Horticulturists are by nature, nonconforming. I happen to find it difficult to conform to what makes us nonconforming. Trends are fleeting. Old technology that has worked for decades or centuries is still best. Although I am not totally against chemicals, I find that almost all are unnecessary for responsible home gardening. Pruning is underappreciated, and fixes many problems.
Various species of iris that are native to exposed coastal hillsides are uncommon in nurseries. Even nurseries that specialize in native species grow only a few. Iris douglasiana was probably the most popular of these years ago. Its slender flowers are various shades of steely blue, like faded denim. Nowadays, most Pacific Coast iris are hybrids of various native and a few exotic species.
The color range of these modern hybrids is impressive. Many bloom with rich shades of blue, purple, burgundy, rusty red, orange, gold, yellow or rosy pink. Softer and pastel shades include coral pink, lavender, creamy white and bright white. There is even sky blue that is almost comparable to the color of well faded denim. Flowers are more substantial than those of their ancestors though.
Bloom is sometimes significantly early, or as late as May. Otherwise, it should happen about now. Each floral stalk supports about two or three flowers that bloom in succession. Floral stalks tend to lean outward from the center of mature plants, and curve to hold their bloom upright. Bloom typically stands less than two feet high. Their slender and arching dark green leaves stay even lower.
Germinating seedlings know which way is up. Perhaps they just know which way is down. They can not see, hear, taste, smell or feel anything like we can. Nonetheless, they know which direction to extend their first root and stem. One thing that they can perceive is gravity. Gravitropism, which was formerly known as geotropism, is how they respond to gravity, or the Earth that generates it.
Positive gravitropism is why the first root to emerge from a seed extends downward toward gravity. Negative gravitropism is why the first stem to emerge from a seed extends upward away from gravity. Positive is toward. Negative is away. Roots and stems that develop after the first, disperse in other directions in response to other stimuli, but never really forget where gravity comes from.
Once a primary stem of a seedling emerges from the soil, it immediately responds to sunlight. Just as it exhibits negative gravitropism to grow away from gravity, it exhibits positive phototropism to grow toward sunlight. Since sunlight comes from above, positive phototropism is compliant to negative gravitropism. Branches will later disperse laterally to avoid the shade of other branches.
While branches are finding their way in the World, roots are doing the same. All of them can not always reach for the center of the Earth. They branch and disperse laterally as they sense that they are sufficiently deep in the soil. Those that venture too deeply sense an inhibition of gas exchange. Those that are too shallow sense if they get too warm or dry. There are a few types of tropisms.
Roots respond to moisture, nutrients, chemicals, temperature and mechanical stimulation within the soil. Branches and foliage respond to humidity, wind, temperature variations and air pollution. In order to function within their dynamic situations, plants somehow coordinate their responses to all of the many stimuli they experience. They are impressively perceptive, as well as responsive.
Even celery, green onions and leafy tops of carrot in a refrigerator can reach upward away from gravity.
Lunaria annua is known more for coin shaped seed pods than bloom.
Money plant, Lunaria annua, which some may know as ‘honesty’, is honestly not a wildflower here. It is neither native nor naturalized. Yet, it seems to grow wild on roadsides, in drainage ditches, and around the perimeters of some of the landscapes. It certainly produces enough seed to naturalize. It just would not have done so in this climate without a bit of intervention.
Many years ago, someone who maintained the landscapes here started sowing seed for money plant. I do not know if he was the first to sow the seed, or if he collected it from plants that someone else grew. He collected seed annually to disperse randomly by simply tossing it out wherever he though it might happily grow into more money plant.
Since money plant wants a bit more water than it gets from annual rainfall here, it was happiest where it is most often seen now, in roadside drainage ditches and on the perimeters of irrigated landscapes. It somehow competes effectively with other seemingly more aggressive vegetation. In the more favorable situations, it self sows, but can not perpetuate indefinitely.
The horticulturist who dispersed the seed for so many years retired a few years ago. Consequently, there has been a bit less money plant annually since then. It certainly tries to naturalize, but was rather scarce last year.
We could not allow it to go extinct just yet. We collected some of the seed from the plants that bloomed last year. I dispersed a few where I thought they would be happy without being obtrusive in the landscapes. I gave most of the seed to a neighbor who happens to enjoy tossing random seed into random (but hopefully suitable) spots where wildflowers would be nice.
It is such a delightful tradition that is worth continuing.
The only reason we developed a small vegetable garden here this year is that we have been unable to go to work for about a month. Without my second most time consuming employment, I had time to clear a small unused space (which was not nearly as simple as that sounds) and sow seed for vegetables. It was a late start a month ago, but not too late.
In fact, there was still time to do it before the last storm to go through. I know that sounds trivial, but as a Californian who is accustomed to gardening in a chaparral climate, and sometimes where there is no water available, planting prior to a storm ‘seems’ to be rather important. I know it is not. Water is available here. Otherwise, I would not grow vegetables.
Not only was there a storm, but there was a second storm later! Of course, it is not really that simple. The first light duty storm was nice, and soaked things sufficiently. Then the weather stayed strangely cool for this time of year. Nothing germinated. Then the second storm was brief but torrential enough to erode all of the recently sown seed right out of the new garden!
It was too comical for me to be too annoyed by it. I only needed to see what survived the erosion so that I could replace what did not. I almost replaced everything anyway, just because I was that certain that nothing survived.
Well, as it turned out, not much was missing! The garden got a slow start, and was delayed again by cool weather, but somehow seems to be recovering nicely. Even some of the very old seed that I did not expect to be viable has germinated.
A neighbor family relocated to a new home a short distance away. The former home needs such major repair that it may instead be demolished and replaced. For now, it remains abandoned. I collected a few plants from the abandoned garden so that some could be relocated to the new home. So far, only two Philodendron selloum and one Mexican fan palm went. The rest remain here, and may actually go to other homes.
1. In all my career, I have never seen a trunk of a palm shrivel from desiccation like this. All of the now absent roots were desiccated also. I seriously doubt that this queen palm will survive.
2. It got canned anyway. Without significant roots, it certainly did not need all this medium. It only got a #15 can so that the shriveled trunk could be buried, sort of like a weird palm cutting.
3. This lemon tree was almost left behind because it is so mutilated. It looks a bit suspicious too, sort of like shaddock understock of a formerly grafted tree. Actually, it is ‘Ponderosa’ lemon.
4. The smaller of two Mexican fan palms got canned into a #5 can until it starts to produce new roots and foliage. Actually, only the queen palm and the big Mexican fan palm got larger cans.
5. This bigger Mexican fan palm got a squat #20 can because the trunk is wider than a #5 can. There are not very many roots in there yet. It got left here to divert traffic around the garden.
6. These three Philodendron selloum were all I originally wanted to salvage. One lacks foliage for now. The other can that seems to be empty contains bare tubers of an unidentified heliconia.
This is the link for Six on Saturday, for anyone else who would like to participate:
It may not be as useful as those marketing it say it is, but blue spruce stonecrop, Sedum reflexum ‘Blue Spruce’ is a nice grayish component to pots of mixed perennials. It contrasts nicely with golden foliage, and looks great with the chartreuse foliage of closely related ‘Angelina’ stonecrop. The limber stems cascade a few inches over the edges of tall urns and hanging pots.
The succulent leaves are quite small, and as the name implies, look like plump blue spruce needles. The succulent stems do not stand much higher than six inches before flopping over. They do not get much wider than high initially, but have a sneaky way of rooting where they touch the ground to cover more area. Yellow flowers bloom just above the foliage in summer.
What blue spruce stonecrop does not do well is uniformly cover large areas of hard or dry soil. It can spread nicely, but is patchy, with thin spots and thick spots. It is really only reliable as ground cover over small areas. It prefers to be watered occasionally, even though it does not need much water. It also likes relatively loose or friable soil, even though it does not need rich soil.
There are all sorts of succulent plants, ranging from finely textured small stonecrops to huge suguaro cactus. Because aloes and agaves are succulents, the closely related yuccas, such as Joshua tree and Spanish bayonet, are commonly considered to be succulents as well. Even begonias and impatiens could be considered to be succulents.
Succulent plants are some of the most distinctive plants available. Foliage can be various shades of green, as well as yellow, red, blue, orange, purplish, gray, bronze, nearly black or variegated. Leaves may be thick and fleshy like those of jade plants, or thin and neatly arranged in tight rosettes like those of aeoniums. Cacti have no real foliage, but some have flashy flowers.
Except for the larger sorts of cacti and some yucca, most succulents are very easy to propagate. Jade plants and iceplants grow very easily from stems simply stuck wherever new plants are desired. Aloes and hen-and-chicks grow just as easily from pups (sideshoots) separated from parent plants. Technically, even leaves can be rooted, and will eventually grow into new plants.
Because scraps from pruning can be used as cuttings, there is rarely any need to actually take cuttings from desirable growth. Where more Hottentot fig (freeway iceplant) is needed on a freeway, it simply gets ‘plugged’ (as cuttings) from scraps of debris from where established growth needs to be cut back to an edge. There is much more debris than can be used!
Pots of mixed succulents are ridiculously easy to grow simply be filling pots with potting soil, and then plugging bits of various succulents. All sorts of contrasting colors and forms can be mixed. As plants grow, those that dominate can either be pruned back, or given more space by removing slower plants. The removed plants need not be wasted, but can be plugged somewhere else.
Small succulents are just as easy to plug into informal walls of stacked stone or broken concrete. Some small succulents actually stabilize loose stone. Their docile and finely textured roots are not likely to do any damage.
If I put a spider plant in the pot on the right, I may never get it out.
Clay pots have been around for a very long time. It is impossible to know for how long exactly. It is logical to say that they have been around long enough to evolve into the perfect shape for their function. Although the dimensions and proportions are variable, the basic design characteristics of the simplest and best engineered clay pots can not be improved on.
Clay pots are circular from above and below for a few reasons. Such a shape is easily formed on a potters’ wheel. It is more structurally sound than a form with flat sides and more corners. The space within is evenly distributed around the vertical center, without more remote corners. Although roots will circle within, there are not so many corners for them to congregate in.
Drainage holes are at the bottoms because that is where water drains to.
Thick rims around the top edges of common clay pots enhance durability where it is most necessary, and also prevent pots of the same size from becoming wedged into each other when stacked. The weight of stacked pots rests firmly and vertically on such rims, rather than being diverted laterally to break wedged pots to pieces.
It would not be possible to stack clay pots if they were not tapered to be wider on top. Of course, they are tapered for a few reasons, just like they are circular and outfitted with rims for a few reasons. Tapered form fits the natural dispersion of the roots of most plants better. More importantly, tapered form facilitates the removal of firm root systems with minimal disruption.
So, after perhaps thousands of years of evolution to achieve the perfect form, who thought it was a good idea to taper pots inward at the top? The lack of a rim is not so important if pots are not so numerous that efficient stacking is a concern. Such pots can not be staked anyway. They do not get reused as much as common clay pots either, so do not need to be so durable.
However, that upper inward taper is a serious problem for plants that mature and develop firm root systems within. Such mature plants can only be removed from such pots only by tearing their root systems apart, or by breaking the pots apart. Such form is only practical for big pots that contain multiple small plants that, individually, do not get big enough to fill the pots.
For example, big urns of bedding plants or mixed perennials function more as planters than as pots. Bedding plants get removed and replaced seasonally, and even if the don’t, they can not get big enough to develop a solid root system that is wider than the inwardly tapered top of a big urn. Likewise, most perennials get removed from such big pots before they get stuck within.
Palms, agaves, yuccas and other more substantial perennials must not be allowed to live within an inwardly tapered urn long enough to develop a firm root system that can not be removed.
Here on the West Coast of California, Indian hawthorn, Raphiolepis indica, was formerly popular as a foundation plant. The compact hollies that were used as such in the East never became very popular here. Back when rain gutters were prohibitively expensive, foundation plants diffused water as it fell from roofs. This limited erosion, and also inhibited splattering onto lower parts of walls.
Modern Indian hawthorn cultivars are now appreciated elsewhere in landscapes for profuse pink bloom in late winter or early spring. Sporadic bloom might continue through summer, with a minor secondary bloom phase in autumn. The most compact cultivars display slightly richer pink bloom, followed by mildly bronzed new foliage. At least one cultivar exhibits barely blushed white bloom.
‘Majestic Beauty’ is a cultivar that might be a hybrid with loquat. It can grow as a small tree more than ten feet high and wide. Other cultivars do not get half as big. Most get less than four feet high. They work nicely as low and plump hedges, but should be shorn after bloom. Full sun exposure and occasional irrigation should be sufficient. They are popular, because they are so undemanding.
A plant ‘variety’ is a group within a species that exhibits distinguishing characteristics. A ‘cultivar’ is simply a cultivated variety. The first five letters of ‘cultivated’ merged with the first three letters of ‘variety’ to form the word ‘cultivar’. A variety should be self perpetuating to some degree, and may be naturally occurring. A cultivar perpetuates by unnatural means, and would go extinct otherwise.
Of course, the distinction between variety and cultivar is not always so obvious. Varieties of nasturtium were selected from plants that displayed desirable qualities. Seed of these varieties grows into plants that display the same qualities. However, without continued selection, some varieties eventually revert to a more feral state in only a few generation. They are not truly self perpetuating.
Most hybrid tomatoes are unable to perpetuate themselves naturally. Their seed is either not viable, or is very genetically variable. Genetically variable seed grows into plants that are very unlikely to produce fruit that is comparable to that which produced their own seed. Nonetheless, hybrid tomatoes grown from original (primary generation) seed are generally varieties rather than cultivars.
The distinction might be that they grow from seed. A plant that is cloned rather than grown from seed is a cultivar. Cloned plants can be grown from cutting, layering or grafting onto understock, but are genetically identical to the original. Some rare camellias grown now are genetically identical copies of original cultivars that were developed centuries ago. Their seed would not be the same.
Some cultivars developed from selective breeding. Others were random but appealingly distinctive plants in the wild or even in landscapes. Many originated as ‘sports’, which are mutant growths of otherwise normal plants. For example, some plants, on rare occasion, produce stems with variegated foliage. Cuttings taken from such variegated stems became popular variegated cultivars.
Seed from a variegated cultivar is very unlikely to produce more variegated plants.
Tony Tomeo 