It’s probably my favorite place in all of San Diego: Presidio Park. You can see the white castle-like structure overlooking I-8 as you drive towards the coast. Situated on a slope where on July 16, 1769, Father Junipero Serra raised the cross and blessed the hillside site he chose as the site of a new mission known as San Diego. It would be the establishment of the first western settlement in Upper California. On this knoll with a knock-down view, the mission and presidio of San Diego were set up.
Since that day in 1769, the presidio played an important part in the history of a district which ran for 125 miles to the north. A tiny fortified city in which more than 400 people lived, married and passed away within the walls of the settlement, this was the birthplace of San Diego, receiving official status in 1834.
When visiting the park today, it is natural to feel as though you are in an outdoor chapel. The astounding views from the Serra Museum move you to stop and take a moment to watch the sun set into the horizon. On bright clear days, you might be able to see the “green flash,” that brief moment when a ring or sphere of green will appear on or around the sun. If you blink or look away, you’ll miss it.
Thanks to a young man in 1870, the Presidio has retained its prominent spot and importance in the city’s history. One of the city’s great civic leaders, George W. Marston established Presidio Park and present-day Junipero Serra Museum, envisioning the park as a shrine to the spot’s historical significance.
The forty acres of shrubs, trees, emerald green lawns and natural beauty are unequaled for beauty and view. What’s more, the park is a treasure of interlacing trails that wind through deep, lush forests, with the hum of the I-8’s traffic in the distance. You are in the middle of the country in the middle of the city here.
The most intriguing trails of the park are found on either side of the restrooms directly behind the parking circle of Cosoy Way. On a recent afternoon when May Gray was clouding the skies, my husband and I started on the trail to the right. We immediately found ourselves transported into a fantasy land of nasturtiums growing up and down hillsides, even crawling up tree trunks. The muted colors of the century-old trees gave the landscape a soft, dreamy feel. The temptation to look up all of the time had to be tempered with caution to look down. Tree roots and other toe-stubbers on the trails can make it easy to trip.
But do go, do explore this treasure, maybe especially in the otherwise dreary days of June Gloom. The trails are cooler then, and the colors and forms of trees, bushes, and flowers make perfect subjects for photography because there are no harsh shadows from strong sunlight.
On some parts of the trail, the trees grow closely together. Their branches overhang tightly with each other, making a delightful tunnel. As we walked through the tree tunnel, I felt as though I were entering a forest harboring many secrets of old souls.
The lacy-looking California Sage perfumes the air. Rub your fingers along the stalk and you will smell the minty fresh scent of sage. Purple sage, loved by Anna’s and Allen’s Hummingbirds, are a must for breathing in its scent.
The whimsical Matilija Poppies wave in the breezes. Because of their very large white petals and a solid yellow round center, they are often nicknamed “Fried Egg Flowers.”
Birds abound on the trails and in the trees of the Presidio Park. The California Towhee, in particular, are in large numbers scrounging on the ground looking for insects underneath the piles of leaves and twigs. Their name Towhee is derived from “toe,” and “heel.” This average-sized brown bird, with its telltale “snip snip” call, uses its toe and heel to jump up, scrape back with the toe and land on its heel. Then they probe around with their beaks to find yummies in the leaves.
Squirrels and rabbits scurried along in front of us as we walked up and down and around the trails. This treasure of a park, a gift that should always be cherished regardless of up-and-coming plans for redevelopment, is a legacy for generations to come, thanks to George W. Marston and the other luminaries of the late 1800s.
— Cynthia G. Robertson is an award-winning freelance writer and photographer, putting together interesting and informative articles for more than 30 years. Her stories, essays and poems have also been published in “Acorn Review” and several anthologies, including “Six Feet Apart…in the Time of Corona.” She blogs about her observations of nature and spirituality, and in 2019, she penned her first novel, “Where You See Forever.” Find out more at www.cynthiarobertson.com.
