To the thoughtless a flower is often a trivial thing—beautiful perhaps, and worthy of a passing glance—but that is all. But to the mind open to the great truths of the universe, it takes on a deeper significance. Such a mind sees in its often humble beginnings the genesis of things far-reaching and mighty. Two thousand years ago one grain of the shower of pollen wafted upon the wind and falling upon a minute undeveloped cone, quickened a seed there into life, and this dropping into the soil pushed up a tiny thread of green, which, after the quiet process of the ages, you now behold in the giant Sequoia which tosses its branches aloft, swept by the four winds of heaven.

Whether manifesting itself in the inconspicuous flower upon the tree or in the equally unassuming inflorescence of the vegetable, or unfurling petals of satin or gauze of brilliant hue and marvelous beauty, the blossom is the origin of most that is useful or beautiful in the organic world about us. Strip the world of its blossoms, and the higher forms of life must come to a speedy termination. Thus we see the flower playing a wonderfully important part in the cosmos around us. It becomes henceforth not only a thing of beauty for the gratification of the Æsthetic sense, but the instrument by which Nature brings about the fullness of her perfection in her own good season.

There is perhaps no nature-study that can yield the same amount of pure and unalloyed pleasure with so little outlay as the study of the wild flowers. When one is interested in them, every walk into the fields is transformed from an aimless ramble into a joyous, eager quest, and every journey upon stage or railroad becomes a rare opportunity for making new plant-acquaintances—a season of exhilarating excitement.

Mr. Burroughs, that devout lover of nature, says: "Most young people find botany a dull study. So it is, as taught from the text-books in the schools; but study it yourself in the fields and woods, and you will find it a source of perennial delight. Find your flower, and then name it by the aid of the botany. There is so much in a name. To find out what a thing is called is a great help. It is the beginning of knowledge; it is the first step. When we see a new person who interests us, we wish to know his or her name. A bird, a flower, a place—the first thing we wish to know about it is its name. Its name helps us to classify it; it gives us a handle to grasp it by; it sheds a ray of light where all before was darkness. As soon as we know the name of a thing, we seem to have established some sort of relation with it."

Having learned the name of a flower or plant, or having been formally introduced to it, as it were, our acquaintance has but just begun. Instead of being our end and aim, as it was with students of botany in the olden times, this is but the beginning. If this were our ultimate aim, all our pleasure would be at an end as soon as we had learned the names of all the plants within our reach. But the point of view has changed and broadened. The plant is now recognized as a living organism, not a dead, unchanging thing. It is vital; it grows; it is amenable to the great laws of the universe; and we see it daily complying with those laws, adapting itself to its surroundings—or perishing. It becomes a thing of absorbing interest when we trace the steps by which it has come to be what it is; when we note its relationship to other closely allied forms, and locate its place in the great world of plants.

A thoughtful observation of the structure of plants alone will fill the mind with amazement at the beauty of their minutest parts, the exquisite perfection of every organ. Then it is most interesting to notice the various kinds of places where the same plants grow; how they flourish in different soils and climates; how they parry the difficulties of new and unaccustomed surroundings, by some change of structure or habit to meet the altered conditions—as clothing themselves with wool, to prevent the undue escape of moisture, or twisting their leaves to a vertical position for the same purpose, or sending their roots deep into the earth to seek perennial sources of moisture, which enables them to flourish in our driest times. It is wonderful to note, too, the methods employed to secure the distribution of the seed—how it is sometimes imbedded in a delicious edible fruit, again furnished with hooks or bristles or springs, or provided with silken sails to waft it away upon the wings of the wind. Then the insects that visit plants. It is marvelous to note how plants spread their attractions in bright colors and perfumes and offerings of honey to bees, butterflies, and moths that can carry their pollen abroad, and how they even place hindrances in the way of such as are undesirable.

Studied in this way, botany is no longer the dry science it used to be, but becomes a most fascinating pursuit; and we know of no richer field in which to carry on the study of flowers than that afforded in California.

There has been a long-felt need of a popular work upon the wild flowers of California. Though celebrated throughout the world for their wealth and beauty, and though many of them have found their way across the waters and endeared themselves to plant lovers in many a foreign garden, the story of their home life has never yet been told.

It has been the delightful task of the author and the illustrator of the present work to seek them out in their native haunts—on seashore and mesa, in deep, cool caÑon, on dry and open hill-slope, on mountain-top, in glacier meadow, by stream and lake, in marsh and woodland, and to listen to the ofttimes marvelous tales they have had to unfold. If they shall have succeeded in making better known these children of Mother Nature to her lovers and appreciators, and in arousing an interest in them among those who have hitherto found the technical difficulties of scientific botany insurmountable, they will feel amply rewarded for their labors.

The present work does not claim by any means to be a complete flora of the region treated. Our State is so new, and many parts of it have as yet been so imperfectly explored, that a comprehensive and exhaustive flora of it must be the work of a future time, and will doubtless be undertaken by some one when all the data have been procured. Such an attempt, however, were it possible, is without the scope of the present work.

California, with her wonderfully varied climate and topography, has a flora correspondingly rich and varied, probably not surpassed by any region of like area in the Northern Hemisphere. Thus the author finds herself confronted with an embarrassment of riches rather than with any lack of material; and it has often been exceedingly difficult to exclude some beautiful flower that seemed to have strong claims to representation. She therefore craves beforehand the indulgence of the reader, should he find some favorite missing.

In making a choice, she has been guided by the following general principles, and selected, first—the flowers most general in their distribution; second—those remarkable for their beauty of form or color, their interesting structure, history, or economic uses; third—those which are characteristically Californian. At the same time, those which are too insignificant in appearance to attract attention and those too difficult of determination by the non-botanist have been omitted. Flowering plants only have been included.

Many of our species extend northward into Oregon and Washington. Thus, while this work is called "The Wild Flowers of California," it will in a certain measure apply equally well to Oregon and Washington.

It has been the aim of the author to picture for the most part the flowers peculiarly Californian, leaving Mrs. Dana's charming book, "How to Know the Wild Flowers," to illustrate those we possess in common with the Atlantic Slope, thus making the works the complements one of the other.

Mrs. Dana has kindly permitted the author to use her plan of arrangement—i.e. of grouping all the white flowers in one section, the yellow in another, the pink in a third, and so on, which, in the absence of a key, greatly facilitates the finding of any given flower. The flowers of each section have been arranged as nearly as possible according to their natural succession in the seasons, with one or two exceptions.

Such confusion is rife in the nomenclature of Californian plants, and the same plant is so often furnished with several names,—and several plants sometimes with the same name,—that the authority is in every instance quoted, in order to make it perfectly clear what plant is meant by the name given. Wherever allusion is made to the Spanish-Californians, the Spanish-speaking Californians are meant, very few of whom are Castilians at the present day, most of whom are of an admixture of races.

The flower-cuts are all from pen-and-ink drawings by the illustrator; and all but four are from her own original studies from nature. These four, which it was impossible for her to procure, have been adapted by her from other drawings, by the aid of herbarium specimens. They include Aphyllon fasciculatum, Fremontia Californica, Hosackia gracilis, and BrodiÆa volubilis. It has been impossible upon so small a page to maintain a uniform relative size in the drawings, for which reason the plant-descriptions in fine print should be consulted for the size.

The author and the illustrator desire to make grateful acknowledgments to many kind friends throughout the State who have rendered them assistance in numerous ways. Their gratitude is due in particular to Miss Alice Eastwood, of the California Academy of Sciences, who, by her unfailing kindness and encouragement, as well as by her personal assistance, has rendered them invaluable aid. Also, to Mr. Carl Purdy, of Ukiah, who from his wide experience, as a grower of our native liliaceous plants, has a knowledge of them shared by few or none, and who has generously placed at their disposal the results of his observations. They also tender their thanks to the Southern Pacific and the North Pacific Railways, who, by their generous granting of reduced rates and passes, have made possible a wider personal acquaintance with the flowers than could have otherwise been enjoyed.

San Rafael, Cal., October 15, 1897.