Plants invite us, over and over again, sometimes quietly and sometimes in a riot, to slow down and take a closer look at the living world that surrounds us. There is just always more to know. Every plant has a story, and you can only hope to meet them and learn them one by one.

In the midst of our increasingly fast-paced lives, we find learning and loving plants is a grounding antidote for our tender hearts. In this spirit, we present a journey of botanical friendship, ecological wonder, and delightfully simple planting recipes. 

It’s the time of year in Oakland when the joyful California sunshine brings forth the familiar little faces of the California Poppy. The four fluttering petals catch our eye as they’re tickled by the caress of even the slightest wind. You glimpse these golden clusters even in the most barren urban landscapes, on busy roadside medians and along harsh highways. They thrive in the most unlikely places, asking for so little, yet giving so much. We wanted to know more about this paradoxical species -- delicate yet pervasive, ephemeral yet resilient, and iconic yet, largely, ignored.

We found out California poppies are as delightfully unique as they are ubiquitous. They have a long ethnobotanical history and were highly valued by Native Californians for food and for their healing properties.

The Nisenan tribe from the Yuba and American River watersheds gathered young spring leaves before blooming and boiled or roasted them with hot stones, then laid them in water to eat. California poppy alleviated Yuki toothaches, fed Sierra Miwok stomachs, healed Wintu newborn babies’ navels, and induced sleep among the Ohlone.[1] And it’s not surprising that California made this charming golden flower the official state flower in 1903.

But if you’ve ever tried to pronounce its botanical name, or god forbid spell it, you’ve probably realized it’s quite a mouthful: Eschscholzia californica. (pronounced, Es-sholt-zee-ah Kal-ih-for-nik-ah) As with every name, it has a story.

A GREAT FRIENDSHIP

So what’s up with that botanical name? The etymology of Eschscholzia californica begins with a story of friendship in San Francisco.

In 1816, Johann Friedrich von Eschscholtz and Adelbert von Chamisso were hired by a Russian dignitary to document and collect species on the expedition aboard a ship named the Rurik. Eschscholtz was a Baltic German physician, naturalist, and entomologist. Chamisso was an accomplished German poet and botanist, and known for his humility and uncommon generosity with sharing findings from his collections. Unacquainted at the time of departure, the two men ended up forming a deep friendship on their global voyage.

Chamisso’s biographer said this of his journey:

“The only individual who entered at all into his tastes, though he possessed not the same energy in collecting, was Eschscholtz. He too gathered some plants and profited by the liberality of Chamisso, who exchanged duplicates and gave him specimens.”[2]

Despite this description, Eschscholtz was no scientific slouch himself. According to the expedition’s record, he had strayed so far botanizing the night before the ship set sail from Alaska to California, that he had delayed the departure of the boat.

Chamisso and Eschscholtz arrived in San Francisco, then part of colonial Spain, in October 1817. As the crew restocked the ship in the Presidio’s harbor over the course of a month, the two friends went exploring. Chamisso’s initial impression of San Francisco was unenthusiastic, as he wrote in his journal:

“The fogs, which the prevailing sea-winds blow over the coast, dissolve in summer over a heated and parched soil, and the country exhibits in autumn only the prospect of bare scorched tracts, alternating with poor stunted bushes, and in places, with dazzling wastes of drift sand.”

Their remark is not surprising as October in California is about as dry as it gets. Chamisso and Eschscholtz must have been quite surprised when, from amongst these ‘dazzling wastes’, sprang forth a luminous golden flower. Chamisso earnestly named this flower after his good friend, Eschscholtz. It seems appropriate that such a joyful and generous plant also had a benevolent name-giver. In turn, Eschscholtz named a number of species, including a local lupine, after Chamisso, Lupinus chamissonis. Lupines and poppies are often seen together in California grasslands and the poppy is known as a symbol of friendship.

SEASONS OF LIFE

Have you ever seen the surreal color of rolling hills in full wildflower bloom? California poppies offer a glimpse into the ephemeral wonder of our landscape. While many in our horticulturally ‘gentle’ climate want to see beauty all year round, there is still a season to our Californian climate that ebbs and flows with the sun and the rainfall. Poppies germinate in fall, grow over winter if there’s enough rainfall, then bloom in the spring and typically die back in the summer.

California poppies provide measure over a seasonal timescale in this way, but also register the hours of sunlight in the day if we pay close attention. They are phototropic, meaning the plant responds to sunlight, and the delicate petals open and close depending on light levels. It has been observed that beetles will get trapped inside the closing flowers at dusk, perhaps choosing to use the petals as shelter for the night.

The poppy’s insurance against drought is to create extensive seedbanks in the soil that will grow and bloom only when there has been enough water. This adaptation is what creates the superbloom phenomena. While their petals and foliage appear delicate, don’t let their dainty appearance deceive you. They are anchored by a robust underground taproot that stores water and nutrients, making them strong, drought-tolerant, and able to persist through California’s long hot summers.

Their seed pods are a thing of wonder - long, slender crescents that explode when mature, sending the tiny round seeds flying from the mother plant. They provide sustenance to our local fauna friends. Birds feed on the poppy seeds and bumblebees, honey bees and beetles seek the poppy’s pollen.

RECIPE FOR A

GUERILLA SUPERBLOOM

In addition to being a symbol of friendship and an ecological workhorse, our dear California poppy is one of the easiest and most rewarding native species you can grow yourself. Best of all, you don’t even need your own garden. These bad gals will grow in open lots around your neighborhood, in medians, and in the cracks of sunlight beneath freeways. Quick note: it is not recommended to spread poppy seed in nature preserves, wildlands, etc, as commercial seeds you purchase will have a slightly different genetic makeup than the wild population, and we don’t want to go jumping into anyone’s evolutionary process. 

Plant poppies from seed in the fall. They will germinate after receiving some rain over winter, and will burst into color come spring. Supplemental water is only necessary if there is no rain, or if you want to prolong the blooming season through summer. If they like their situation, they will readily self-seed and you’ll have more poppies in the years to come.

So here is the guide for your personal superbloom:

To sow in your garden or other open urban soil, clear the area of weeds. Mix 1 part seed with 4 parts compost or potting soil. Throw the mixture onto your cleared soil like you’re flouring a surface to roll out pie dough. Use a sheet of cardboard to gently press the newly seeded soil into the earth and you’re done! Baby poppies look like a tiny blue green wishbones sticking out of the soil, which is how you can identify them versus any weeds that will inevitably crop back up amongst them.

For conditions with less open soil, you may have greater success with a seed bomb. These small balls of seeds and soil have long been used by guerrilla gardeners as a way to disperse plants into under-planted areas around the city.

To make a seed bomb, combine 3 parts clay (either from a clay-ey soil or clay powder from a craft store), 5 parts compost, and 1 part seed. Mix that together with a small amount of water until you can form them into 1” balls. Set the balls on a baking tray to dry and then they’ll be ready to go. To disperse, simply toss the bomb into a plant void of your choice and cross your fingers for rain.

We believe growing plants is best done with a sense of playfulness and room for experimentation (read: failure). Even if your plants don’t take root the first time, don’t stop trying. They’ll pop up out of the ground and delight you when you least expect it.

And yes, California poppies are truly as darling and romantic as described above. But they are also a serious ecological force in California and one of the few native species that will grow out of a crack in the sidewalk. They ask for next to nothing, yet give back multitudes in return, and we love them for it.