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< A botanist searches for the seeds of the rare Death Valley Sage

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The Mojave Desert in California has erupted in flowers this year after plentiful early winter rains, and the unusually big bloom presented an opportunity for one botanist - a chance for her to scout out a treasure she has been chasing for more than 15 years, the elusive seeds of the Death Valley sage. NPR's Christopher Intagliata went along for the ride.

CHRISTOPHER INTAGLIATA, BYLINE: The first thing to know about Death Valley sage is that it lives where a lot of people don't - in the forbidding mountains in and around Death Valley.

NAOMI FRAGA: Most populations are pretty remote, so they either require quite a bit of hiking or scrambling up mountains or driving on back roads.

INTAGLIATA: Back roads like this sandy four-wheel-drive track through the desert, which botanist Naomi Fraga is navigating through washes and spindly creosote bushes.

FRAGA: There's no signs. There's no, go this way. This looks like a better road, doesn't it (laughter)?

INTAGLIATA: The sage's scientific name, Salvia funerea, refers to where it was first identified in the Funeral Mountains. We are headed to a nearby string of peaks, the Nopah Range. There's an abandoned mine up here, and Fraga says the surrounding slopes are full of this rare sage. After 20 minutes of driving, we descend into a ravine.

FRAGA: This is where the four-wheel drive is needed, this one little uphill area.

INTAGLIATA: So anyone who thinks plant hunting is for the faint of heart...

FRAGA: (Laughter) You got to develop some skills, you know? I didn't come with these skills ready-made.

INTAGLIATA: Fraga's skills as a botanist led her to direct conservation programs at the California Botanic Garden in LA County. And she's part of an effort to collect the seeds of all the rare plants of California for safekeeping in a seed vault. Imagine freezers full of seeds. It's an effort that's nearly complete, but one of the holdouts is the stubborn Death Valley sage. Fraga has been trying to collect its seeds since 2009, and every time she's come back empty-handed.

FRAGA: I think this is where I park 'cause this is, like... (ph)

(SOUNDBITE OF CAR DOOR DINGING)

INTAGLIATA: After we get out, she counts out a stack of little coin envelopes...

FRAGA: Six, seven, eight, nine, 10.

INTAGLIATA: ...To collect the sage fruits and seeds, if we find any. As we start hiking up an old miners' trail, we see a whole show of color, the hot pink blooms of the beavertail cacti...

FRAGA: That's desert poppy.

INTAGLIATA: And right down next to our hiking boots, the trail is dotted with tiny flowers, purple, white and yellow.

FRAGA: Those are Gilia. These are the suncups.

INTAGLIATA: But we're not here for these flowers. We are looking for the sage. And here's another thing to know about it - in extremely dry years, it doesn't flower at all, and no flowers means no seeds. So this year, after bountiful rains, Fraga might have better luck.

FRAGA: It's a little bit of a gamble, but, you know, there's the plants having a really good year. Well, I feel hopeful.

INTAGLIATA: We leave the trail and start scrambling uphill over sharp rocks, and then just above us...

FRAGA: Oh, there's one. (Laughter) There they are. So do you see that plant that is, like, sort of fuzzy stems sticking up?

INTAGLIATA: Yeah.

FRAGA: That's our plant. That's Death Valley sage. There's one, two, three, four, five.

INTAGLIATA: The plants are lush with silvery green, pointy leaves and fuzzy little buds. And they have dainty, deep purple flowers, an auspicious sign for a seed hunter.

FRAGA: And I want something maybe that flowered, like, a week or more ago.

INTAGLIATA: Fraga plucks off a bud and carefully dissects it with her fingertips.

FRAGA: It's very small, which is not good.

INTAGLIATA: How big are the actual seeds when they're mature?

FRAGA: Nobody knows (laughter) 'cause no one's ever seen a seed.

INTAGLIATA: Up the trail, though, we find an even bigger Death Valley sage, and this one's abuzz with wild bees.

(SOUNDBITE OF BEES BUZZING)

FRAGA: The pollinators are out, so that's really good. I've never seen actually a bee visiting this plant, so that in itself is pretty awesome to get to see that.

INTAGLIATA: And seeing pollinators means a better chance of finding seeds. So Fraga's hopeful as she pulls open another fuzzy little fruit.

FRAGA: OK, here we go. (Laughter) Look at that. This one has two.

INTAGLIATA: Two tiny green seeds, about the size of sesame seeds - not mature yet, but they're getting there. And a few minutes later, she finds more.

FRAGA: The biggest seed yet that I've found. This is definitely a seed. It looks really good. I've opened up so many of these fruits and just seen, like, just emptiness. And it gives me, you know, a lot of hope that Death Valley sage has a future, and maybe this is the year that new Death Valley sages are born.

INTAGLIATA: Now, much of the sage's habitat is protected within Death Valley National Park, but climate change doesn't respect park boundaries. And it could push these desert plants, which already survive under such extreme conditions, into more existential peril.

FRAGA: You can imagine that if conditions were to get more difficult with a changing climate, it's going to be harder and harder to collect seed. So we really need to get the seed now to sort of hedge bets against extinction.

INTAGLIATA: Fraga packs up some of the baby seeds we found, and she says she plans to return soon with more helpers to attempt the first big harvest. Christopher Intagliata, NPR News in the Nopah Range outside Death Valley.

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