What a delightful surprise! It happens sometimes here in the rose garden. It may not look like much, as a short stemmed single lily floret that is mostly overwhelmed by the English lavender that I held back with my boot for this picture. It should be three feet tall or so, with several florets. The surprise is that no one planted it. Well, at least no one planted it recently. This rose garden has more history than is obvious from what blooms here now.
Old pictures show that it was formerly an extravagant perennial bed, with an abundance of canna, dahlia, penstemon, pelargonium, Shasta daisy, Japanese anemone, various iris, and of course, various lilies. Lower annuals were cycled through the seasons at the front edge. Only a few roses bloomed against the low wall at the rear. Soil was likely regularly amended with compost and fertilizer. Someone put significant effort into maintaining it.
Nearby redwoods appreciated all the effort, and extended their roots into the fertilized, richly amended and regularly irrigated soil. Their growing canopies extended over and shaded the upper portion of the perennial bed so that all but daylilies and Japanese anemone were replaced with ferns. Perennials that got dug and stored for their dormant seasons were later installed elsewhere as it became obvious that they would not be happy here.
Because the few roses did not seem to mind the redwood roots, a few more, as well as English lavender, were added in informal rows to replace deteriorating perennials. Annuals require more effort than they did originally, but are still cycled through the seasons in a narrow row at the front edge. The rose garden now seems to have always been here, as if intentionally planned. Every once in a while, we find reminders of extravagant history.
Six on Saturday: Oh, The Shame!
Not my shame of course; but that of the trees in the pictures below.
Do not try this at home. I only did it because I am a horticulturist and arborist; and I happen to be one of the last arborists in America who condones coppicing and pollarding, which are depicted here.
Coppicing is cutting trees or shrubbery down to the ground annually, or at least regularly every few years or so. Some coppiced trees form basal burls or lignotubers. Some just form thicket growth that replaces itself after getting coppiced back to the ground.
Pollarding is similar to coppicing, but rather than cutting all growth back to a stump or stumps at ground level, it involves pruning all growth back to the same distended knuckles at the ends of a few main limbs annually, or at least regularly every few years or so. It is done in such a manner that the pruning wounds are compartmentalized by the new growth of the following year. Knuckles can be elongated by leaving single short stubs.
There are a few reasons for coppicing and pollarding. Some subjects develop an abundance of appealingly lush foliage. Some develop an abundance of appealing or useful twiggy growth. Coppiced red twig dogwoods are much twiggier and more colorful while bare in winter. Pollarded or coppiced willows produce an abundance of canes for basketry. White mulberries are pollarded to provide an abundance of lush foliage to feed silkworms.
I coppiced a Eucalyptus globulus ‘Compacta’ and pollarded a Eucalyptus globulus for two main reasons. Both are such problematic trees that I do not want to plant either into the ground, so must keep them contained. Also, I want the remarkably aromatic juvenile foliage that develops in response to coppicing and pollarding.
1. Eucalyptus globulus ‘Compacta’ coppiced stump. It is not such a great example of a coppiced stump, since the tree did not grow enough two years ago to get coppiced last year. Consequently, the few main trunks that were just recently coppiced are already starting to form their own separate lignotubers on top of the original, which is now rotting below. Soon enough, they will fuse to form a single lignotuber, concealing the evidence.
2. Eucalyptus globulus ‘Compacta’ before getting coppiced. It is quite small for a specimen that was not coppiced last year.
3. Eucalyptus globulus ‘Compacta’ after getting coppiced. Rhody is not impressed.
4. Eucalyptus cinerea in need of pollarding. This tree grew too big too fast to survive any longer in the relatively small #15 (15 gallon) can. Fortunately, in just a few days, it will instead get installed into a landscape where it can disperse roots and mature into a normal unpollarded tree. After a few years, it might get pollarded anyway, just to produce silvery juvenile foliage withing reach of the ground, but that is not a concern just yet.
5. Eucalyptus globulus pollarded knuckle. This is only the second pollarding procedure for this subject. The first procedure involved lopping the lanky single trunk off right here where the knuckle is now. The multiple limbs that developed were just recently lopped off, leaving this distended knuckle to repeat the process, hopefully annually.
6. Eucalyptus globulus pollarded trunk. This is why Eucalyptus globulus should not get pollarded! They look ridiculous if deprived of their naturally elegant form. They do not look much more dignified with multiple pollarded limbs. Oh, the shame!
This is the link for Six on Saturday, for anyone else who would like to participate:
https://thepropagatorblog.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/six-on-saturday-a-participant-guide/
Holly Fern
This is one of those perennials that has mixed reviews. Although relatively tough once established, holly fern, Cyrtomium falcatum, is susceptible to rot and fungal leaf-spot. It likes to be watered somewhat regularly, but rots if the soil is constantly saturated. Leaf-spot is not as dangerous as it looks, but can be unsightly. Too much fertilizer (to correct the damage) can burn the foliage too.
Individual fronds might get as long as a foot and a half, with half a dozen to a dozen pairs glossy and irregularly toothed pinnae. Foliar texture (remotely) resemble that of some types of holly. Because they disperse their roots so efficiently, mature specimens do not like to be transplanted. Small plants can grow as houseplants for years, but eventually want to get out into the garden. Holly fern likes a bit of shade, and will tolerate rather dark shade.
Ferns Are Shady But Cool
It could be either an asset or a liability. With few exceptions, ferns do not want to be too exposed to direct sunlight or wind, especially during warm and dry weather. However, as long as they get just enough filtered light, they can be quite happy in sheltered spots that are a bit too shady for other plants. Most like to be watered regularly, and perhaps lightly fertilized in spring and summer.
They provide neither floral color nor fragrance. They lack interesting branch structure and bark. Since they reproduce by spores, they do not even produce any fruit, either edible or ornamental. For those who do not know them any better, they might seem to be rather boring. Yet, those of us who grow them know how handsome their lush, finely textured and uniquely patterned foliage is.
Of the popularly grown ferns, only two develop ‘trunks’, (which are actually just clustered wiry roots growing downward through rotting stems). Two others are ‘epiphytes’ that naturally cling to trees or exposed stone, but in home gardens, are more popularly grown on wooden plaques. Most other ferns are terrestrial understory perennials that naturally live in the partial shade of larger plants.
Although mostly confined to the ground, some ferns can get quite large. Individual leaves, which are known as ‘fronds’, can get several feet long. Even before it develops a trunk, Australian tree fern produces huge fronds that can shade an atrium. Other ferns with smaller leaves can spread very efficiently, and can even become invasive. Fortunately, most ferns are relatively complaisant.
The two popular epiphytic stag-horn ferns have weirdly lobed but otherwise undivided fronds. Leaves of the odd bird’s-nest fern is neither divided nor lobed. Otherwise, fern fronds are intricately divided into small leaflets known as ‘pinnae’. These pinnae are neatly arranged on opposite sides of leafstalks known as ‘rachi’. Some ferns have silvery variegation, but most are rich dark green.
Ferns innately do well in pots. Boston, maidenhair, rabbit’s foot, holly and bird’s-nest ferns are actually excellent houseplants. However, Australian tree fern and a few others shed irritating fuzz that would be a problem in the home. Most of the popular ferns are evergreen. Many consume their own deteriorating foliage by covering it with new foliage. Some ferns need occasional grooming.
Horridculture – Unpruned Fruit Trees
They do not come with instructions for their maintenance. Deciduous fruit trees, particularly the stone fruit trees (such as cherry, plum, prune, apricot nectarine and peach) and pomme fruit trees (such as apple and pear), can be procured as easily as nasturtium seed or petunias. Whether bare-root in winter or canned (potted), they very often get planted into gardens where they are expected to produce their fruit as easily as daisies bloom.
Instructions for planting that come with bare root stock are useful for getting those particular trees started, but mention nothing about how even brand new trees need to be pruned after installation, and will need specialized pruning annually every winter thereafter. The same applies to rose, raspberry, blackberry (all varieties), grape, and to a lesser extent, fig, pomegranate, persimmon and several other fruit producing trees, vines and shrubs.
The problem with the stone fruit and pomme fruit trees is that they were bred to produce an unnatural abundance of unnaturally large fruits that are too overwhelming to sustain as they ripen, and too heavy to support. The others are in a similar situation, but are somehow able to continue to produce and generally support their own weight as they get overgrown and congested. Roses deteriorate and succumb to disease as they get congested.
This is why annual winter pruning is so important. Such pruning concentrates resources into fewer but superior fruits, rather than too many inferior fruits. It also limits and contains (closer to the main trunk and limbs) the weight of the fruit, so that limbs are not so likely to break as fruit develops.
These wimpy stems hanging vertically from the weight of the maturing apricots might be able to support the weight of the fruit, but the excessive fruit will be of inferior quality.
Box Elder
This ain’t no ordinary maple. Although there are other maples with trifoliate leaves (divided into three distinct palmately arranged leaflets), box elder, Acer negundo, is the only maple with pinnately compound leaves (divided into three or more distinct leaflets that are arranged pinnately on a central rachis). Leaflets might be solitary too. Almost all other maples have palmately lobed leaves.
Box elder is considered to be the ‘trashy’ maple. It grows fast, but only lives for about half a century. The happiest barely get to be twice as old. Because it gets more than forty feet tall, possibly with multiple trunks wider than two feet, it can become quite a big mess as it deteriorates and drops limbs. Yet, it is aggressive enough to have naturalized in many regions where it is not native.
Despite all this, and the lack of good foliar color where autumn weather is mild, a few cultivars of box elder have been developed for landscape use. ‘Flamingo’, which is likely the most popular, is variegated with white through summer, after pink new growth fades. ‘Violaceum’ develops smoky bluish growth in spring. ‘Auratum’ starts out yellowish. Mature leaflets are about three inches long.
Spontaneous Limb Failure Is Real
It sounds like science fiction, but it is not. Every spring and during particular summer weather, limbs can fall from trees without warning, and seemingly for no reason at all. It happens when least expected, while the weather is warm and perhaps humid, but notably without wind. The lack of wind is what makes it so unexpected. It is a phenomenon known simply as spontaneous limb failure.
Those who witness it might think that the arborists they call to clean up the mess will not believe their descriptions of what happened. Yet, arborists are familiar with it. Quite a few species of trees are notorious for it, especially in urban landscapes where they get watered regularly. Most of such trees are either chaparral trees that do not expect much water, or riparian trees that do expect it.
Spontaneous limb failure occurs as warmth accelerates vascular activity, but humidity inhibits evapotranspiration, which is evaporation from the foliage. Accelerated vascular activity increases the weight of the foliage. Inhibition of evapotranspiration limits the ability of the foliage to eliminate some of the excess weight. Limbs break if unable to support the increasing weight of the foliage.
Spontaneous limb failure is not as easy to predict as the more familiar sort of limb failure that is caused by wind. Limbs that get blown down typically exhibit some sort of structural deficiency or disfigurement prior to failure. Some limbs that succumb to spontaneous limb failure do so as well, but most do not. They just happen to be the healthiest and most densely foliated parts of a tree.
Native coast live oak and valley oak are the two most familiar of the chaparral trees that are notorious for spontaneous limb failure. Native cottonwood, willow, box elder and sycamore are riparian trees that are perhaps even more susceptible to spontaneous limb failure. Sweetgum, carob, stone pine and various eucalypti are some of the exotic trees that might drop limbs spontaneously.
In summer, spontaneous limb failure is less likely as growth slows and limbs strengthen.
Campground II
This is a formerly unplanned sequel to the article ‘Campground‘ from last Sunday. That article described my concern for any of the homeless who might camp on the banks of an adjacent creek, below innately unstable and structurally deficient riparian trees. Just a few minutes after the article posted at midnight, the biggest and most deteriorated box elder tree in the area of concern coincidentally fell! No one was there at the time to be hurt.
The tree that fell was located just a few yards to the right of those in the picture of the previous article. It happened to be the only tree that was inside the fence. Therefore, as it fell inward, it did not damage the fence. The trailer that it landed on is for heavy tractors, so was undamaged. Only the top few timbers of a pile of lumber that it landed on were broken, and only because the lumber was recently milled, and stacked so loosely to dry.
The upper picture at the top shows the fallen tree laying on the trailer and loosely stacked lumber, with its dislodged trunk suspended above the ground. The middle picture here shows the base of the dislodged trunk suspended pitiably above the ground, with no roots remaining attached to the soil.
The lower picture below shows how efficiently the trunk pulled out of the crater as if there were no roots holding it down. The few roots that were there were so decayed that none stayed attached to the soil. It is amazing that the tree did not fall earlier! When if fell, it sounded just like one might imagine it would, with a loud but quick crash. There was no sound of tearing or crunching roots. Fortunately, there was no one else there to hear it!
Garter Snake
This little critter surprised me at work last week. Even though I knew it to be harmless, my instinctual response was to get away from it fast. I have encountered enough rattlesnakes to know better than to take the time to identify a snake before getting some distance from it. Even after identifying a snake as a harmless garter snake, I still prefer to avoid it as it leaves. This one was in no hurry, so got picked up with a rake and set safely aside.
Between high school and college, I took a summer job for a (primarily) retail nursery in Miramar on the coast of San Mateo County. At this job, I sometime went with the maintenance crew to work in a few home gardens. At one such job, just overlooking the beach in Montara, I needed to mow an overgrown lawn. Rather than mow back and forth from the upper edge to the lower, I mowed a concentric pattern inward from the outer edge.
What that meant was that I mowed the edge first, and then just inside the freshly mown edge, and then just inside that second track, and so on, with the intention of finishing at the center of the lawn. What I did not consider was that this technique concentrated the several garter snakes that happened to be on the lawn at the time into the diminishing unmown center. Needless to say, I needed to stop mowing while I chased them off with a stick.
What I also neglected to consider during my Indiana Jones experience was that these were no ordinary garter snakes. They were the more colorful and endangered San Francisco garter snake. I remember their extra pair of red stripes on top. Supposedly, they also had an extra pair of blue stripes underneath. I did not get close enough to notice.
Six on Saturday: Abbreviated Rose Parade
There are a few other roses that I could have gotten pictures of in order to submit a complete set of six, but I wanted to show off just these four that bloom in what is known as the ‘rose bed’. A fifth purple cultivar was not blooming when I got these pictures. What seems to be a sixth cultivar that I did not get a picture of is really suckers of ‘Doctor Huey’ understock that appeared far enough away from the original plant to not be a problem.
There are several rose shrubs and standards (trees) in the rose bed, but they are limited to these five and a half distinct and mostly unidentified cultivars. They are the most prominently located roses that I work with. The other roses are in other landscapes, or at the yard of the maintenance shops. Two of the larger groups of roses are uniform beds of carpet roses, which I am really none too keen on.
1. The few rose standards (trees) seem to be floribundas. This one looks familiar, but not familiar enough for me to guess the name of it.
2. I would guess that this hybrid tea rose that grows in a shrub form is ‘Double Delight’. It does happen to be quite pleasantly fragrant.
3. This one seems to be a floribunda like the standards (trees) but grows in shrub form like #2 above. I do not believe it is notably fragrant.
4. I would guess that this one is the common floribunda ‘Iceberg’, growing as a standard. One is a double graft with a purple floribunda.
5. Well, that was it. The fifth purple cultivar is not blooming, and ‘Doctor Huey’ bloomed only once for the year. This nearby yellow calla is irrelevant.
6. This piece of dead madrone is just as irrelevant, but I though it was amusingly sculptural. I probably should have been more careful while cutting it apart.
This is the link for Six on Saturday, for anyone else who would like to participate:
https://thepropagatorblog.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/six-on-saturday-a-participant-guide/
Tony Tomeo 