Oxalis in Spring (No. 1–3)

In the Bay Area, the arrival of spring heralds the appearance of a particular type of green mound, one topped by effusive yellow blooms. Some people dread the presence of oxalis pes-caprae because of their profuse bulbils and roots, impossible to eliminate from otherwise well-tended gardens; others (like me) appreciate that these particular weeds bring distinctive colors to the awakening landscape. Whatever your feelings, there is no avoiding oxalis. They pop up at the edges of lawns, within short stretches of parklets, across abandoned lots, and over the undulating landscape of the local hills.

I encountered the first of this year’s oxalis at Lands End. Along a parking lot sidewalk, small clusters of yellow petals tentatively reached out from a tangle of hardy flora. Squat coyotebush and hedges of buckwheat towered above them. I imagined they were still shy. In the cold of early morning, the petals were barely beginning to unfurl. Most of the delicate flowers retained a distinctive cone-like shape.

It didn’t take long to find a blossom on full display. Under the warmth of a bright afternoon sun, the petals had flamboyantly flipped outward into five distinct, broad lobes. But the beauty was fleeting. Once shadows crept in, the petals would close again into their tight little rolls.

What an amazing range of motion these plants are capable of!

Along the hills, faint washes of yellow also began to appear. From my distant vantage point, I wasn’t sure if these were all oxalis; maybe some were the equally fluorescent crowns of wild mustard. There was a time when I confused the two species of plants.

Under the thinning cover of rain clouds, I imagined millions of yellow blooms waving in the wind.