A dream propelled Bob Ramirez to volunteer at Kuruvungna Village Springs five years ago. Now president of the Gabrielino Springs Foundation, he’s spearheaded the site’s rebirth.
Across cultures, natural springs are revered as a gift. Hidden in a pocket of West Los Angeles, Kuruvungna Village Springs, a 2-acre former Gabrielino-Tongva village site, is an oasis where fresh water bubbles out of the earth.
It hasn’t always been that way. The springs produce 56,000 gallons of fresh water a day and are “a cultural treasure,” says Bob Ramirez, president of the Gabrielino Springs Foundation, the 501c3 nonprofit that manages the springs. But they had been virtually abandoned and forgotten until just a few years ago.
Ramirez was drawn to restore the land after his ancestors visited him in a dream five years ago and told him to “have fun with the water.”
He showed up as a volunteer with his sons at Kuruvungna, only to find the site neglected and the board dysfunctional. A wild rose and a fallen willow tree were the only California native plants on the site. The perimeter was overrun by algerian ivy, a stubborn and invasive plant. The pools of water were dirty and cloudy.
After helping maintain the site for a few years, Ramirez took over as the foundation’s president and began championing a volunteer-led restoration effort. Now, on the first Sunday of every month, the site is open to the public, and volunteers can drop in to help pick weeds, rake leaves, and work on compost.
“To create an environment where getting connected with the native plants [gives] you the opportunity to learn about and to make relationships with the plants and the animals—that just makes us better human beings,” Ramirez says. “It’s not like we’re going to change the world right away. It’s a reminder that we’re connected to the Earth.”
Today, the pools of water are bordered by willows, and juncus, a grassy flowering plant, lines the walkway. Because the springs are untreated and, as Ramirez says, “full of life,” plants were chosen intentionally to provide shade for the pools of water. The site is home to coyote bush, native water lilies, and dogbane, an Indian hemp that also functions purposefully for basketry. A kiiy, or thatch hut, that Ramirez and a team of volunteers fastened using just tule, willow branches, and a $14 spool of hemp, stands at one end of the site, serving as an inspirational sculpture.
California medicinal herbs, including coastal sage, black sage, and blue sage, exude heavenly aromas while also attracting bees who pollinate from plant to plant. Two gardens—a Mesoamerican garden with corn, beans, squash, and avocado trees, and a Polynesian garden with banana trees sporting still-green bunches—thrive on the fertile land. A solar-powered water pump distributes the water from the springs throughout the property.
Horticulturist Carol Bornstein assisted in the restoration with her knowledge of California native plants. The Theodore Payne Foundation, an organization dedicated to promoting California native plants, donated plants toward Kuruvungna’s restoration effort and also connected Bornstein, who serves on the foundation’s board, to the springs. She’s provided recommendations on plants harmonious with the site, helped with planting, and identified weeds for removal.
“Native plants are a part of what has evolved over time in concert with the soils, the climate, the topography, the wildlife,” Bornstein says. “It’s all the fabric of a place. All of those things together make for a healthy ecosystem. When you start destroying [and] disrupting pieces of that ecosystem, you compromise the overall health of everything that is a part of that ecosystem. Sadly, that is a reality of what humans have done over the millenia.”
Frank Obregon, a plant propagation horticulturist with Descanso Gardens, as well as professionals from the UCLA Botanical Garden, have also been instrumental in the process. The restoration is supported by the community and private funders, including Jane Fonda and Bob Dylan, who donated boulders from his home to the site.
Non-native trees that were planted by neighboring University High School nearly 70 years ago remain on the site; Ramirez, who builds custom homes through his business Ramirez Design Studio, plans to wait about 20 years before removing them so he can use the wood for furniture.
“Springs are central to life,” Ramirez says. “We have one right here in our backyard—in the city, surrounded by buildings. It’s pretty unique.”
Native animals who are regular residents to Kuruvungna include a coyote and raccoons. Ramirez says volunteers have identified more than 41 birds, whose various calls can be heard echoing overhead.
Still, invasive species burden Kuruvungna’s California native species. Non-native squirrels girdle young trees and eat the cambium layer around the trunk, causing the tree to die. Ramirez’s effort to repopulate royal chub, a small silver endangered fish that used to thrive throughout streams, creeks and rivers across the area, has been thwarted by crawfish, an invasive species native to Louisiana, which eat the chub and other native animal eggs.
“They used to thrive throughout all the streams and creeks and rivers in L.A. County,” Ramirez explains. “Now they’re endangered and threatened because they don’t have any habitat. It’s all been paved over by a big city.”
Ramirez sets out traps to catch crawfish, and the traps are often dragged out by animals on the land. Ramirez is in the process of setting up a critter cam to determine whether the coyote or raccoons are responsible.
The track of University High School is visible from the springs, but Ramirez says not many students or staff know much about the springs. He sees an opportunity for the site to be an educational resource.
“Springs are central to life,” Ramirez says. “We have one right here in our backyard—in the city, surrounded by buildings. It’s pretty unique.”
With proper funding from the state and city, Ramirez hopes to be able to establish Kuruvungna Village Springs as a cultural educational center that is created in collaboration with the Tongva community.
“A lot of the culture was lost,” Ramirez says. “It’s been recreated over the last few decades by culture bearers who want to maintain and re-create the traditions of the Tongva. There is a Tongva community of elders and educators, people like us, maintaining the springs. This is a very sacred place for the Tongva because it’s the only real piece of land left that we can say: ‘This is Tongva land.’”
