GARDENS OF THE SEA 233 



Due to the peculiar climate, the islands have a pro- 

 cession of plants in bloom every month in the year. 

 The first rain comes in October or November, sooner 

 or later; if it is a good drenching one, the change will 

 be noticed in a week, and the brown, sunburnt ground 

 is tinted green by alfilaria, wild oats, and countless 

 weeds, which form the warp of the carpet that covers 

 the land. This lasts perhaps until April or May, 

 when the greens turn to hay and the land takes on 

 deep burnt-umber tones and tints, and new flowers 

 bloom. All this time the chaparral or the brush never 

 fades, so the island and the canons are always green 

 in sheltered places, and always attractive whether in 

 greens or grays or browns. 



Each of the islands has its peculiarities of flora, and 

 all resemble the adjacent mainland to some extent; 

 some have plants peculiar to themselves, and some 

 have forms peculiar to themselves and to the regions 

 far to the south. 



If one wishes to see cacti, San Clemente is the place; 

 in the east end the finest and most exasperating growth 

 of the real choya I know of on the California coast is 

 to be found. Here are great patches of various species. 

 But the most spectacular growth of cactus I have 

 ever seen, Mr, Gifford Pinchot, Mr. Charles Rowland, 

 and I discovered one day in a knife-like canon on San 

 Clemente. This caiion appeared to be a deep crack 

 in the lava or conglomerate, or both, on the sides of 

 which masses had disintegrated, forming deep caves, 

 of all kinds, sizes, and shapes. 



Out of these, hanging down ten, twenty, or more 

 feet, were swinging in the draft, myriads of snakes of 

 vivid green. The resemblance was so perfect that it 



