They're called "cushion plant communities".

A mixture, or "community", of plants that look like, well, cushions.

Pin cushions, that is.

These plants grow where it's hard. Where either the soil (or lack thereof) or environment, or both, are too harsh for most plants. Where growing close, snug to the ground is not only an advantage, but the only way to survive.

A seed is lucky enough to sprout, grow a wee bit, and then stalls, waiting for a little more growth the next year. And the year after that. Some of these clumps may be decades old, or older.

Bonsais in miniature. Most of these plants have close relatives that grow "normally". The clump with white flowers in the middle of the frame is a Miners' candle. So-called because the taller version grows tall enough that miners would break off the year-old dead stems and use them as torches. But not this diminutive variety.

And I've seen smaller versions of Miners' candle, in harsher places.

But most of the time, looking at these steep slopes of rock or clay, you don't pay much attention to the few clumps of greyish green mixed in with the native, bare soil. Unless you've just put your hand or knee on one, since many tend to be a bit prickly. Most of the year, they're pretty unremarkable vegetation.

But springtime, ohh, especially in a wet one like this one...

The colours come out. And places that you never paid attention to before, are suddenly hillsides of beauty.

If only for a week or two.