Hairstreak Elegy for Hood Mountain
Hood Mountain has been my favorite butterfly spot for years. I believe I've photographed most of the 45 or so species recently seen flying here, before successive fires in 2017 and 2019 damaged most of the park. Hood was closed after the 2017 fire for more than a year, and is still in a long process of reopening. Since I've had access I've been visiting to see how things are coming along. Changes had to be expected.
One great loss that is obvious is John Muir's Hairstreak. This is our local 'Juniper' Hairstreak; formerly hosted by the Sargent's Cypress Forest covering the North and West ridges. This scarce creature was always one of the first new butterflies each spring on this mountaintop. Rich chestnut brown flushed with purple and touches of green , these seem a miracle in the austere setting of these bone-dry serpentine ridges. By early April and the blooming of the dwarf ceanothus(Musk Brush) you might see pristine individuals nectaring alone. As season progresses they were more numerous as they shift to emerging Yarrow, Yerba Santa, Blue Gilia and especially Common Wooly Sunflower. By midseason they fly in the company of a growing cast of pollinators including choice butterflies and day flying moths. Muir's hairstreaks have been easily seen here all the way into July. By then, these vivid insects are so faded so that they are hardly identifiable.
There are other decent sites for Callophyrs muiri in our region, but I doubt any match this community on the roof of Sonoma County. Several hundred acres ,over two serpentine ridges, with an unworldly forest of stunted grey-blue trees hedged with Manzanita and a scattering of serpentine endemic plants. Hood is a true gem by any standard, and this 'Pygmy forest' was its pride. And a gem even rarer for being open to the public! Sonoma County is proud of its parks, but the truth is that we've a rather slim proportion of public land; and most of our Cupressus sargentii is on private land.
For example, there's a robust grove along Stoetz Road in the west county that supports muiri. Folks used to visit the site of an old garbage dump here; but that's closed. Worse, the neighbors are not friendly; going so far as lining this country lane with huge boulders to prevent anyone stopping here. I have seen nice butterflies and even Jewelflowers along the road; but only by slinking along, feeling much the criminal after contriving to park unconventionally. The area of the old dump would make a marvelous reserve, so it's a pity.
Inat. reports suggest there are a lot of John Muir Hairstreaks in the 'Cedars'(i.e. sargentii) district above Armstrong Woods, alongside numerous other serpentine wonders. This might well rival Hood Park, but you visit here only by special arrangement, so few will manage a trip. And there are surely other places--I've seen singletons here and there in the Mayacamas--but it's hard to learn anything without access. My plan is always to visit any Sargent's Cypress I can get to.
This project will be bittersweet after watching successive fires sweep over Hood in 2017 and 2019, together destroying the Cypress forest and the butterfly here. The first fire only nibbled at these ridges, burning roughly south to north, but incinerating everything until being stopped at the crest by a broad firebreak along Panorama Road. Imagine running a bulldozer along this stoney ridge in the choking smoke in front of an advancing fire! By such heroic efforts the forest survived then, and the next two springs hairstreaks were abundant. What was ominous was the completeness of the burn south of the firebreak, in contrast to the often spotty damage in the adjacent Fir/Oak forest.
In nearby Orchard meadow you can appreciate the difference. This old home site is still surrounded by a respectable number of Fir. The old shack and fruit trees are gone, but the meadow's Douglas Thistle, Lupine, Hedge nettle and Vetch sprang right back. The colony of Boisduval's Blues on the Lupine seems to have survived intact. This spring I saw California Dogface here on several visits. This meadow is back in business.
Just above in the Cypress forest, fire left nothing to regenerate. The charming spring of 2019 was followed by more fire in October; a more intense and extensive burn leaving a clean slate for recolonization. Aside from a tiny clump of young trees next to a driveway off Panorama Road, the only survivor is a single patriarch towering over a moonscape. Absent the forest, the hairstreak is done here.
In the years since we've been in the grip of drought, but even so, the mountain is visibly recovering. Our meager springs of 2020, 2021 and 2022 managed to bring increasing bloom to the burned area. Notable for butterfly people is a massive growth of Yerba Santa, formerly quite scarce in the park. Yarrow, Common Wooly Sunflower, Blue Gilia and others are increasing. Butterflies seem to be rebounding. Particularly gratifying is an abundance of Spring Whites visiting persisting Jewelflowers. But we've had two springs now without Muir's Hairstreak. I'm concluding that they've been lost here for the immediate future; and as long as it takes for enough of the trees to come back.
That recovery, if it happens, will be a long time. Saplings in the 2017 burn area are now 18" high. But these are only found here and there, mostly at the margins of the forest. Unfortunately, none of the burned trees has the trick of resprouting from the ground, like the Bays and Toyon nearby. These ridges will sport sargentii again, but nothing like what we've lost here. Perhaps even scattered small clumps of cypress might support muiri here? It might be possible to reintroduce them from nearby populations... . In the meanwhile, more flowers on the burn scar will make make this spot very attractive to many nice butterflies.
Personally, I still have trouble accepting this particular loss. I expect that every March when the Musk Brush blooms, I will be haunted by the fear of missing the return of John Muir's Hairstreaks to these ceanothus gardens. The Ghost of John Muir will stir, and I will not be able to resist two or three climbs up here before April. And I'm sure, when I see my first blooming ceanothus, I'll be holding my breath. Often for butterfly people, no amount of faith or shoe leather will secure a sighting of a particular insect, so it does not do to get greedy. If I was a spiritual fellow, this would be a good time to invoke some baloney about the folly of attachments. In this dreary era of extinctions, such equanimity is hard. When I think about these situations I just get angry, and the remedies needed are far above my means.
For me consolation springs from the early Spring Whites I might see on these visits, with all the other discoveries in a regenerating forest. Along Pine Flat Road and on Geyser Peak I've seen both California and Boisduval's Marbles fly with Whites, and it makes sense they're here too. That's something I don't want to miss.
