This article by Galen Peterson was originally published on Palladium Magazine on May 21, 2022. It was featured in PALLADIUM 07: Garden Planet. In m

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2025-01-09 14:30:09

This article by Galen Peterson was originally published on Palladium Magazine on May 21, 2022. It was featured in PALLADIUM 07: Garden Planet.

In much of North America, late October brings the first winter snows. In California, it’s still fire season. I took advantage of the t-shirt weather to take a ride through Bohemia Ecological Reserve, a land trust in Sonoma County.

I rode in the bed of a truck belonging to Cam, the forest’s steward and my guide, alongside his polka-dotted dog. Our bumpy ride over access roads took us across a newly restored landscape—streams and ponds dotted the serpentine barrens where groves of endemic Sargent’s cypress stretched themselves out into the uniquely Californian heat.

The cypress stand was neatly separated from the rest of the oak savanna, resembling the paradise European explorers must have first encountered. Turning a corner, Cam pointed to some foothills in the distance, calling out from the driver’s cabin that they were covered in parched Douglas fir. The stand had colonized the hills in the absence of wildfire.

Stewarding the landscape is hard work. Cam uses chainsaws to cut down tan oaks that have succumbed to sudden oak death, and maintains access roads by mowing and mulching the golden grass on either side. The work is intensely physical, and his hands are calloused and leathery. This preserve was no untouched wilderness—its ecological health hinged on the work of human hands.