Tree of Hippocrates

Platanus, or sycamore, supposedly derives its botanical name from the Greek word “platys”, which means “broad”, and describes its wide leaves. However, some believe that its name was derived from “Plato”, who lectured about philosophy within the shade of a sycamore grove, rather than an olive orchard, outside of Athens. The Tree of Hippocrates, is an individual Platanus orientalis that was planted centuries ago, supposedly where Hippocrates lectured about medicine under a much older tree of the same species. Trees grown from cuttings and seed from the Tree of Hippocrates have been shared with medical institutions, schools and libraries all over the World. One seedling was planted at Dominican Hospital in Santa Cruz in 1968. Until only the last few years, it had been pollarded in an exemplary manner, which left no twigs for me to get cuttings from during winter. Only last summer, a gardener left me a few twigs, which I plugged as early cuttings. Of course, most succumbed to summer warmth. Some of the survivors did not root through winter. Now, though, there are four surviving rooted cuttings! So, we have four copies of a seedling of the second Tree of Hippocrates! Does that count for anything?

Six on Saturday: More Unexpected Surprises

Several of these Six were featured here before, and some only recently. They continue to surprise.

1. Musa ingens, oem, or giant highland banana, produced two pups. This is the larger of the two. Although I was told that this is oem, I am not certain. It behaves like the species in some ways, but not others. For example, oem should only occasionally produce pups.

2. Heuchera sanguinea, coral bells does not look coral to me. This looks like simple red. I think of coral as more orangish pink. Is that correct? I can not complain, since I prefer this color. Some of the fancy foliar cultivars here bloom with colors other than coral too.

3. Canna X generalis ‘Cannova Mango’ canna and feral Antirrhinum majus, snapdragon that I posted pictures of two weeks ago are blooming even better together now. Why are some of the best flowers as unplanned as these were? Perhaps I should unplan for more.

4. Helenium autumnale, tickseed was yellow last week. This is literally the same flower. Is this new color orange or red? Was it supposed to be this color, or is this what happens to yellow flowers as they fade? I will need to see how the other two varieties bloom later.

5. Passiflora caerulea ‘Constance Elliott’ passion flower smells like pineapple guava, but only briefly. Its fragrance is gone before I can get someone else to confirm the similarity. The garishness of this bloom does not last very long either. This flower is wilted by now.

6. Rhody rarely cooperates for pictures. He should though, since he is who we all want to see here for Six on Saturday. I would post six pictures of him weekly if he would allow it. Perhaps I should have gotten a picture of Heather too. She cooperates more for pictures.

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/

Cast Iron Patio

Tangly Cottage Gardening made good use of obsolete water meter lids as stepping stones. Now that I procured quite a bunch from where I work part time, I can try something similar. Because they are rectangular and of standardized dimensions, they can alternatively function as contiguous pavers. I intend to eventually pave a small patio with them. Forty-three are identical, 20.75 inches long by 10.5 inches wide, which is approximately 1.5 square feet. One is slightly different, but of the same dimensions. Two are smaller. Because they are not exactly twice as long as wide, all must be set in the same orientation, but that will not be a problem. They can be arranged in five rows of nine, or nine rows of five, as an almost square patio of approximately 68 square feet, with approximately eight foot long sides. Only one lid will be different, and one lid, likely in a corner, will be lacking. If necessary, I can add the two smaller lids to awkwardly fill the otherwise lacking corner, or simply find another lid somewhere. More will be available later. Although it is not yet constructed, I am already pleased with this recycled cast iron patio.

Six on Saturday: Unexpected

Horticultural dysfunction can be, from one to six, annoying, frustrating, very infuriating, entertaining, confusing and pleasantly surprising. Much of this is more natural than it is dysfunctional.

1. Arundo donax, giant reed is not as giant as expected. Four potted specimens look like big grassy weeds amongst these lily of the Nile. They will be removed if they do not grow as fast as they famously should. They are here only temporarily for this summer anyway.

2. Rosmarinus officinalis ‘Prostratus’ creeping rosemary is not as prostrate as expected. I thought that it would cascade more limbry from the top of the wall rather than become fluffy but barely pendulous shrubs on top of the wall. In a row, they look like Soul Train.

3. Agapanthus orientalis, lily of the Nile are expected to bloom for summer. Here on the edge of a trafficked walkway, they are too tempting to kids with sticks. Fortunately, their evergreen foliage is a nice border even without bloom. We try not to be too discouraged.

4. Agapanthus orientalis, lily of the Nile is trying to bloom a bit more than expected, by fasciation. Perhaps it is trying to compensate for the destruction of so much other bloom nearby. Ultimately, a fascinated bloom will be no more substantial than a normal bloom.

5. Echinops sphaerocephalus, globe thistle is unexpectedly solitary. This is the first that I have grown since my second summer after high school, so I do not remember how they typically bloom. Yet, I expected a branched bloom stem. Maybe that is what it does next.

6. Helenium autumnale, sneezeweed was expected to bloom later in summer. This is the first for me, so I can neither complain nor question its timing. Two other varieties bloom red and orange. They, the globe thistle and others came from Tangly Cottage Gardening.

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/

Chameleon

What color is this? It looks pink to me. A day earlier, though, it looked peachy orange. At various times last year and the year earlier, this same angel’s trumped bloomed more orangish orange, yellow and even white. I can not remember its schedule now, but I know that it has been weirdly variable. It is one of four cultivars of angel’s trumpet here, but the only one that will not decide on a color for its bloom.

One of the other four angel’s trumpets here blooms with double white flowers. My favorite, although relatively diminutive, blooms with single white flowers. The most vigorous is ‘Charles Grimaldi’, which blooms with single yellow flowers. A formerly fifth cultivar with big single pink flowers unfortunately rotted without replacements over winter a few years ago.

This particular angel’s trumpet grew from scrap that I took from a green waste pile at the curb of a job site in eastern San Jose several years ago. I took it because I found the pastel orange foliar color of the specimen that it was likely pruned from to be appealing. I had no idea that it would bloom with so many other comparably appealing floral colors.

Six on Saturday: Not Yet Summer Bloom

Too much is blooming now for pictures of foliage, bark, trees, vines, shrubs or any other horticultural subject matter. I got these pictures before yesterday, so they are technically still spring bloom.

1. Gladiolus X hortulanus, gladiolus looks silly alone. It was the first to bloom. All others are in small colonies that developed from reliably perennial bulbs, which were originally components of a mixed batch. I would not have expected any to be so reliably perennial.

2. Lavandula angustifolia, English lavender has similarly lasted longer than expected. It was already a few years old several years ago, when I predicted its natural demise within two years. A feral specimen of Spanish lavender coincidentally grew from a seed nearby.

3. Antirrhinum majus, snapdragon is also feral. All within its colony bloom white. Those of another feral colony all bloom yellow. However, the parents of both colonies bloomed with mixed colors of the same variety. I can not complain, but I wonder what happened.

4. Celosia argentea, plumed cockscomb blooms with these red, orange or yellow flames. The chartreuse foliage in the background is coleus. They are a good example of why I do not procure annuals at work. I have difficulty with such striking color, texture and form.

5. Abutilon X hybridum, Chinese lantern is an awkwardly lanky shrub that will not stop blooming. I would like to prune it down to perhaps improve its density, but do not want to interfere with its bloom schedule. It has been here for many years, and might be feral.

6. Canna ‘Cannova Mango’ canna is not my favorite cultivar, but has too many attributes to discredit. It begins blooming before any other canna here. It blooms more abundantly than any other canna here. I know of no one else who dislikes this color as much as I do.

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/

Almond / Almond

Pote-8-o or pote-aht-o? Tome-8-o or tome-aht-o? Ape-ricot or app-ricot? Pee-can or pi-kahn? What about “almond”? This is different from the distinction of plums and prunes. It is a matter of pronunciation. Is “almond” pronounced like “salmon” or “common”? Those who grow them, and likely know better than the rest of us, commonly pronounce it like “salmon”. Most of the rest of us pronounce it like “common”. The nuts are harvested by machines that shake them from their trees, which supposedly shakes the ‘ell out of them, which sort of makes sense. Although the “l” is silent within both pronunciations, it might be slightly more so within the “common” pronunciation. Everything associated with almonds prior to harvest, such as their orchards, trees, bloom, unharvested nuts and their collective industry, commonly employs the “salmon” pronunciation, in which the “l” may be slightly less silent. Everything associated with harvested and processed nuts and their products, which are what most of us are familiar with, more commonly employs the “common” pronunciation. For the pair of trees in my garden, I use the “salmon” pronunciation. For their nuts, I use the “common” pronunciation.