Jeffery Pine trees (Pinus Jeffreyi) smell like butterscotch. Don’t get me wrong— I enjoy the scent of balsam firs (Abies balsamea) that I’m used to in the White Mountains (they smell like, well, pine)— but there’s also something wonderful about stepping out of the camper door into a forest that smells like baking cookies.
The forest where we camped is part of a fire ecosystem. Our particular grove had been burned recently enough to see clear charring on lower trunks and very little underbrush but healthy branches above.
This is particularly relevant because shortly after I left, this area of the National Forest was closed and two nearby forest service campgrounds evacuated due to the Dexter fire, caused by lightning.
This is a Jeffery Pine and a brooding sky. The low-growing sagebrush also has a distinct and delicious aroma!
I couldn’t identify the species of this pine, I just marvel at its resilience growing out of what appears to be bare rock on the Sierra crest at 11,000 feet. I wonder how old it is?
Another marvel of resilience are these columbines growing in a scree field.
Even along exposed ridges with sandy soils and constant winds, bright clumps of wildflowers were everywhere
And while I was expecting lush vegetation along the banks of McGee creek, I wasn’t expecting a turk’s cap lily in such striking contrast to the sky and the neighboring cottonwoods.
