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.
Saint John’s wort is the common name of a few species of Hypericum. Hypericumbeanii sometimes gets the distinction of Bean’s Saint John’s wort. That sounds more like carob, Ceratoniasiliqua, though. Carob is the locust bean that sustained Saint John the Baptist in the desert. Mr. Bean was actually a respected botanist of the Royal Botanical Garden.
This Saint John’s wort is not as invasive as naturalized sorts, but is as resilient. Although rarely available from nurseries, it survives in old and neglected landscapes. Established specimens need no irrigation, but perform better with it. This species is likely rare merely because of its resemblance to invasive sorts. It propagates quite efficiently from cuttings.
Hypericumbeanii is a shrubby species, unlike more familiar ground cover types. It grows about two or three feet tall and wide. Its bright yellow flowers are about two inches wide, and bloom through summer. Foliage is deciduous where winter is cooler. Here, it is likely to linger until spring foliage replaces it. Partial shade is tolerable, but might inhibit bloom.
Aridity is a measure of humidity. Humidity is a measure of aridity. Although opposite, they are similar. Humidity is the quantity of water vapor that is suspended within the air. Aridity is a deficiency of humidity. They are components of weather that are more likely felt than seen. Although, aridity clarifies the air, which typically causes the sky to seem more blue.
Of all components of weather, only atmospheric pressure is less tangible than aridity. It is measurable with instrumentation, but perceptible to very few. Except for its clarification of the sky, aridity is just as invisible. It is more perceptible, though. Just as humidity inhibits dissipation of heat, aridity promotes it. Therefore, arid heat feels cooler than humid heat.
That is why the West Coast is famous for its delightfully arid weather with sunsets. Even when the weather here is warmer than elsewhere, it may be more comfortable. Although undesirable, smog and smoke from forest fires provide color for clear sunsets. Temperate arid weather is more conducive to gardening. However, some vegetation might disagree.
Fragrant flowers can not disperse their fragrance quite as effectively during arid weather. Nor can aromatic foliage disperse its aroma quite as effectively. A few varieties of colorful foliage and flowers may fade a bit faster with minimal humidity. After all, most vegetation within home gardens is originally from more humid climates. It naturally enjoys humidity.
More importantly, most vegetation needs more water through arid weather. It loses much more moisture from its foliar surfaces at such times. Any breeze, which people might like, exacerbates loss of moisture. Obviously, warmth does also. Automatic irrigation requires appropriate adjustment as weather changes. Manual irrigation may become demanding.
Irrigation is less demanding for species that actually prefer local Mediterranean climates. Many of such species are native. Most are native to other regions with similar climates. A few are native to climates that are more arid, but tolerate a bit of extra moisture. Weather and climate do not adapt to a garden. It is best to cooperate with climate than not.
California quail are the Official State Bird of, as one might guess, California. They are delightfully plump but small game birds that are on the ground more than anywhere else. They fly only when necessary, and seem to avoid landing in trees or shrubbery. They effectively avoid predators by running into thickets of vegetation that their predators can not follow them into. Some believe that they sound like they say “Chicago” when they talk to each other. Actually though, they say “Hey Paco!”, in a politely mellow tone. They are a chaparral species that venture into adjacent forests such as the redwood forests here. Relatively colorful males, such as this, are typically followed by their visually subdued female mates after spring, and by now are likely to be followed by a herd of tiny and fuzzy chicks. Their motion on the ground is fluid, although most of a small herd can angularly and suddenly change direction, as if the Papa quail follows his silly apostrophe shaped topknot to the left or right, and the rest follow. They run about pecking at exposed soil, and often stop to scratch at forest debris where soil is not so exposed. Not only do they eat insects and mollusks, but most of their diet is seeds. Since only a negligible minority of seeds within our landscapes of desirable vegetation, such as naturalized wildflowers, almost all of the seeds that California quail eat here are those of weeds. They proactively eat weeds before they happen.
Contrary to common belief, cicadas are native to California. There are actually more native species here than in any other state. Of course, that is partly because California is so big, with so many distinctly diverse ecoregions. Cicadas are merely less prominent here because they are less numerous than they are within dense hardwood forests farther east. Within most regions here, they are somewhat rare. Even where they are most numerous, they do not congregate to form obnoxiously loud populations as they do elsewhere. Some native species are content to share their relatively mixed western forests with relatively few individuals of their own kind, and perhaps a few individuals of other cicada species. They are loud enough to find each other over significant distances. This cicada found its way to where I was enjoying the garden last Thursday. It was quite intimidating when it arrived with loud buzzing of its wings. It flew awkwardly before bashing into a steel building with a loud ‘PING’ that sounded more like a fat acorn falling onto the roof. I should have fled. It circled on the ground briefly before getting airborne again, and coming after me! It landed on my collar. I managed to maintain my composure as I removed it. I could see that one of its wings was impaired, as is evident in the picture above. That did not stop it from trying to fly again. It did not get far before landing on the asphalt driveway. It did not cooperate for the second picture below, which, although not of good quality, demonstrates that the impaired wing is not so impaired. It was likely merely out of whack from crashing into the wall. Before we could get acquainted, this no longer so intimidating cicada flew away as awkwardly as it arrived.
Both wings seem to be fine now. (This cicada did not want its picture taken.)
Some of these six are early. Some are late. Some merely seem to be one or the other, but are actually right on schedule. Only the banana pup, which is the only of these six that is not blooming, was influenced intentionally.
1. Hymenocallis latifolia, Peruvian daffodil is actually right on schedule. I expected it to remain dormant through summer to bloom for autumn, after naked lady. It may still do so if it foliates first. Otherwise, it should naturally bloom for summer. These are my first.
2. Musa acuminata ‘Cavendish’ banana was divided earlier and allowed to grow for two months, but then lopped and sent by mail. It must now grow new foliage before autumn. It is actually less likely to rot with this technique. I am quite pleased to have procured it.
3. Hedychium gardnerianum, kahili ginger surprised me with what initially seemed like early floral trusses. However, they have since grown so slowly that they might bloom for later summer or autumn, which is when I previously thought that they normally bloom.
4. Gladiolus hybridus, gladiola has been unexpectedly reliably perennial, and is actually slowly multiplying. A sport of an orange and yellow variety now blooms yellow. Another blooms red. This one seems to be trying to extend its bloom season by blooming so late.
5. Amaryllis belladonna, naked lady is doing the opposite. It should not bloom for about another month. This bulb might be blooming early as a result of distress associated with crowded confinement with too many other bulbs within a big pot. It is pretty regardless.
6. Bougainvillea, which lacks a common name that is actually common, could have been blooming since the weather began warming at the end of last winter. It recovered slowly from minor frost damage, though. It still seems to be rather lean, but at least it is trying.
Other types of ice plant bloom with different colors.
The bright orange, inch and a half wide flowers of Lampranthus aurantiacus, a type of ice plant, should bloom between winter and spring, but a few are brightening my garden right now. This bright yellow flower in the picture is that of the variety ‘Glaucus’, which I grew from a cutting last year. My single low mounding plant is about a foot wide now and will eventually spread to about two feet wide, and can get about a foot deep. Stems can root where they lay, forming new plants that will spread farther. To accelerate the spread, more plants are very easy to propagate from small cuttings. Lampranthus aurantiacus has narrow, inch long leaves, and a relatively shrubby basal branch structure.
Among the many garden chores that I neglected so far this summer is the ‘processing’ of many of the bits and pieces of unusual succulent plants that I acquired from earlier volunteer work days at the Arizona Garden at Stanford. Volunteers are always welcome to take any of the debris that we generate. After everyone present took what they could, I could not bear to waste what was left; so I took more than I should. Cacti, agaves and yuccas cannot be recycled as green waste, so would otherwise have been disposed of.
I really wanted large canes of a particular unusual yucca, so processed them as large cuttings first. I only needed to cut away all but the foliage on top, stick them in the ground and keep them watered until roots grow. This particular desert yucca does not grow roots as efficiently as tropical yuccas do, though.
Meanwhile, many pieces of cacti, ice plant, and succulents that I can not even tell you the names of remain out in a pile in the driveway. However, as I was looking them over today, I noticed that they are not only alive, but actually seem to doing quite well. Some are even blooming!
This is just too weird. There is no soil. There is no watering. Even if there were, there are no roots to exploit the resources that are necessary to keep plants alive. These bits and pieces of various succulents get only sunlight and warmth during the day. Apparently, this is all they need for now.
They know that it will eventually rain. When it does, they will develop new roots into the soil wherever they are. Since I do not intend to let them do this in my driveway, I will eventually get them into the garden, and water them in to hasten the rooting process. I will groom them and strip lower foliage from agaves and aloes, so that they look better than the debris that they are. They should actually grow slightly and look pretty good by autumn.
There are so many different kinds of ‘succulent plants’ or ‘succulents’, that the definition is not always so clear. All cacti are succulents that are equipped with spines. Many relatives of poinsettia (euphorbs) have fleshy green stems just like cacti, so are also succulents. Some of these even look like cacti, with comparable spines. Aloes and agaves are succulents as well, with large fleshy leaves, some with very sharp leaf tips and teeth on their leaf margins. The list goes on, including sedums, sempervivums, echiverias, aeoniums, crassulas, lithops, ice plants and more.
Simply speaking, succulents store water in distended ‘succulent’ leaves, stems or even roots, in order to survive long dry seasons. Most happen to be remarkably easy to propagate from cuttings. Some can even be grown from relatively large cuttings. In the desert where water is a very limited commodity, many succulents defend themselves with spines or teeth.
Yuccas, which are related to aloes and agaves, are considered (by ‘some’) to be succulents as well, even though they lack fleshy leaves or stems. Some yuccas that form trunks and branches, particularly those that are from tropical or forest environments, and especially the common Yucca elephantipes, are just as easy to propagate from cuttings as other succulents are.
I am certainly no landscape designer, but I think that I sort of dig this.
Window boxes annoy me. They were originally developed to contain aromatic herbs that dissuaded mosquitoes from entering small windows, likely before the invention of window screens. They remained popular while window screens were expensive, and to grow culinary herbs where garden space was limited in old European cities. None of that is useful to me. Mosquitoes are not much of a problem here, and if they were, window screens are not expensive. There is plenty of space for herbs in the garden. Furthermore, window boxes eventually rot as a result of the irrigated medium within, and share their rot with the wooden walls that support them.
The small shelf that I suspended below this window was intended for eleven small tissue culture plugs of various cultivars of banana. I wanted to shelter them from minor frost last winter. I intended to remove the shelf after winter. Obviously, I did not.
Without a plan, I moved eleven small specimens of various species from the nursery onto the shelf just to see how their composition could develop. I typically do not like to obscure scenery or obstruct sunlight from windows, but thought I could make an exception for this window. The scenery is not particularly appealing, with a busy roadway nearby. Through summer, a bit of shade from the warm late afternoon sun might be nice.
I did not want the grassy texture or bronzed foliar color of the sugarcane right outside the window. Nor did I want the disorganized texture of any of the gingers. I am rather pleased with how these few other species work though. They are nearly half as high as the window, but as I mentioned, for this window, I do not mind. They look rather jungley.
The eleven small specimens here are in eight #1 cans and three 4″ pots. The three 4″ pots are nestled into the gaps in between two rows of four #1 cans. A pair of young plugs of Cucurma longa, turmeric, in two of the three 4″ pots are not visible to the left and right. Only two blooms of a small specimen of Agapanthus africanus ‘Peter Pan’ lily of the Nile in the middle 4″ pot are visible. Four rooted cuttings of Solandra maxima ‘Variegata’ cup of gold vine are in the closer row of #1 cans. A pair of large specimens of an unidentified cultivar of Heliconia psittacorum, parakeet flower, are to the left and right in the rear row. A pair of pups of Musa acuminata ‘Golden Rhino Horn’ banana are in the middle of the rear row. This is so very inconsistent with my style, but I am getting to like it.
Hummingbirds and butterflies are quite fond of tropical hibiscus, Hibiscus rosa-sinensis. They are attracted to the bright yellow, orange, red, pink or white color of its bloom. They stay for the syrupy nectar that they find deep within the flowers. Tropical hibiscus attracts pollinators rather efficiently, but almost never generates seed. Most cultivars are hybrids.
Tropical hibiscus flowers are not overly profuse, but are about three or four inches broad. Fancy hybrids that bloom with broader flowers are not as vigorous as more typical sorts. Most cultivars bloom with somewhat ruffled single flowers. Some bloom with more ruffled double flowers. Both types of flowers have five garishly flaring petals. None are fragrant.
Tropical hibiscus grows as evergreen shrubbery about six to a bit more than ten feet tall. Pruning to remove congestion of inner growth promotes healthier outer growth. Besides, whitefly and scale insects often proliferate on crowded foliage. Leaves are mostly two to five inches long and two to three inches wide. Bloom continues from summer to autumn, mostly with warmth.
Flowers bloom for pollination. It is that simple. Most rely on wind to disperse their pollen. They are more abundant than colorful or fragrant. More prominently colorful and fragrant flowers rely on pollinators. Their color and fragrance attract preferred pollinators, such as insects, birds or bats. Such flowers sustain their pollinators with nectar or surplus pollen.
More than pollinators appreciate their diligence. Almost everyone who enjoys gardening enjoys floral color and fragrance. Cultivation of naturally appealing bloom began several thousand years ago. Selection and breeding most likely began relatively soon afterward. Ultimately, during relatively modern history, hybridization began getting too complicated.
Pollinators were not a priority during such processes. Because most ornamental flowers produce no usable fruit, pollinators are unimportant. Because of extensive hybridization, many ornamental flowers are sterile anyway. Floral color, fragrance and various tangible attributes are more important. Modern bloom appeals more to people than to pollinators.
A few modern flowers now confound their original pollinators. Some types of insects can die of exhaustion while trying to ascertain them. These insects may recognize floral color or fragrance but not strange floral structure. A few modern flowers are too frilly for access. Some attract pollinators without providing enough nectar or extra pollen to sustain them.
Several exotic flowers with less or no breeding distract pollinators with their abundance. Lemon bottlebrush blooms very abundantly and is still common within some landscapes. Blue gum eucalyptus is naturalized in parts of California. Both attract monarch butterflies that native species rely on. Native ceanothus must instead rely more on other pollinators.
Furthermore, a few pollinators actually disrupt native ecosystems. Honey bees, although very important to local agriculture, are not native. They arrived in San Jose in 1853, from where they dispersed throughout the West. It is now impossible to assess their influence. Even seemingly beneficial influence is unnatural and therefore ecologically detrimental.
Tony Tomeo 