Giant redwood, Sequoiadendron giganteum, is famously the largest tree in the World. Although not quite as tall as the coastal redwood, Sequoiadendron sempervirens, it is bulkier. It grows taller than three hundred feet, with trunks wider than thirty feet, to weigh more than six hundred thirty tons.
Yet, like many species, it has at least one cultivar. ‘Pendulum’, which is the weeping giant redwood, is nothing like the simple species. It might grow forty feet tall, if it is able to support itself at such a height. It’s canopy might grow a few feet wide, but it really cascades more than it reaches outward. It really is weird. It looks more like a relative of Mr. Snuffleupagus of Sesame Street than like a relative of giant redwood.
Of course, its weirdness is what makes it so appealing. It is sculptural. It is bold. It really makes one wonder what planet it is from.
I got this picture in Kitsap County in Washington, hundreds of miles from the native range of the simple species within the Sierra Nevada. Actually, I see more of this cultivar in the Pacific Northwest than here. It likely performs better there because of the colder winter weather. Furthermore, this weird cultivar is more popular than the simple species, partly because it is so distinctive, and partly because it is more proportionate to home gardens. Simple giant redwoods only fit into very spacious landscapes.
Weeping giant redwood may not be good for anything more than its weirdness, but at least it excels at that. Otherwise, it provides no significant shade. It does not bloom conspicuously. It provides no fruit. It does not even make good firewood. Fortunately, weirdness has certain appeal. Within our home gardens, we can grow what we like, even if merely for its weirdness.
Arizona will be in the rear view mirror shortly after this episode of Six on Saturday posts at midnight on Saturday morning. I got a few pictures this time though. They are not too colorful only because I found the diverse cacti to be more compelling than the abundant desert bloom. Palo verde, esperanza, ocotillo, caliandra, oleander, bougainvillea, lantana and a few other flowers that I did not identify were all in bloom. A few others will bloom soon. We should be in Los Angeles by about noon, and at the View Park Garden Tour on Sunday. This is not how I planned this excursion, but it is working out rather splendidly.
1. Wile E. Coyote, of whom I posted a picture last week, may have been requesting a ride to visit his old colleague, the Road Runner, here in Arizona. I neglected to consider that.
2. Cacti are obviously popular in Arizona, likely because they perform so reliably and are so striking. This and the next two are field grown nursery stock. I can not identify them.
3. This cactus developed a rather wide colony. Many impressively big cacti get relocated. However, I doubt that this entire colony can be relocated intact. It will likely be divided.
4. This unidentified lumpy cactus seems to be quite tame. The few that I have noticed in my neighborhood grow less than three feet high. They grow almost twenty feet tall here.
5. Hesperaloe parviflora, red yucca is difficult to get a good picture of. Its grassy texture and grayish color can look shabby. Its pink bloom is nice against a clear blue sky though.
6. Carnegiea gigantea, saguaro is the State Flower of Arizona, and what tourists like me expect to see in Arizona. I pulled over outside of town to take this picture from the road.
These coastal redwoods are very distinct from giant redwoods.
“Hidden giants: how the UK’s 500,000 redwoods put California in the shade” was published in the Guardian more than a month ago. It was amended to specify that it is about giant redwoods rather than all redwoods, as if that is a distinction that is easily omitted. Incidentally, it later mentions that, “For millions of years, the world’s tallest trees have graced California peaks and coastlines,” which is a reference to coastal redwoods, which are a different genus from giant redwoods.
What is worse is the claim that, “Researchers found that the Victorians brought so many seeds and saplings to Britain that experts say the giant redwoods now outnumber those in their US homeland.” More specifically, it continues to explain that, “The Victorians were so impressed that they brought seeds and seedlings from the US in such large numbers that there are now approximately 500,000 in Britain, according to a Forestry Commission estimate that includes coastal redwoods and dawn redwoods (a separate Chinese species) as well as the giant redwoods. Experts at Kew think most of the UK trees are giant sequoias, the official name for giant redwoods. California has about 80,000 giant redwoods, as well as also having coastal redwoods and a few ornamental dawn redwoods imported from China.”
Essentially, the article claims that this data demonstrates that there are more redwoods in the United Kingdom than there are here. Apparently, approximately half a million redwoods live there, and “experts” “think” that most are giant redwoods. Also apparently, only about eighty thousand giant redwoods live here.
Response to this is no easy task. It is a comparison of all redwoods in the United Kingdom to a very slim minority of redwoods here. About eighty thousand mature specimens of giant redwood live in the wild alone. Countless more immature specimens, including abundant seedlings that are only a few years old, live with them. Countless more giant redwoods have been installed into landscapes throughout areas of California that are collectively almost as large as all of Britain. Such trees have been getting planted here at least as long as they have been getting planted there. It is impossible to estimate how many giant redwoods are here, but there are many more than merely half a million. Furthermore, regardless of how the article was revised, the half a million redwoods of the United Kingdom includes coastal redwoods and dawn redwoods. There may be as many dawn redwoods here as there are there. More importantly, there are more than two million acres of wild coastal redwood forest here. In other words, for every redwood of any species there, there are at least four acres of wild coastal redwoods here. Many redwoods inhabit each acre of redwood forest. Also, many millions of coastal redwoods are planted into landscapes here.
Incidentally, the three species of redwood are actually three distinct genera, and the official name of giant redwood really is giant redwood. It is Sequoidendron, not Sequoia.
The article continues to say with complicated grammar, “Spurred by the climate crisis, devastating droughts and scorching temperatures have added new stressors for the redwood, particularly the famous giant sequoias, which now struggle to bounce back after big wildfires.” However, there is no climate crisis with devastating droughts or scorching temperatures here. Summers here are naturally dry and warm. That is simply how the climate here is. Most forests here burn at least every century or so. Therefore, redwoods that are thousands of years old have survived many fires. Now that some forests are allowed to burn as they naturally should, fires will not likely be so unusually lethal to younger redwoods in the future. Another claim that, “Vulnerable trees are also increasingly under attack from native bark beetles, insects that feed on their spongy red trunks until they topple.” is likewise inaccurate. Bark beetles rarely damage redwoods, and are no more likely to damage them now that they ever had been.
The landscape in front of the home across the road from where I am staying in Arizona is weird. Like many of the landscapes here, it is simple, with only a few small shrubs and stone surrounded by gravel, but also includes this silly pair of purple leaf plum trees. They are pruned into symmetrically round form. The pruning keeps their canopies nicely dense with strikingly bronzed foliage. What makes them so weird is their location. Within the climate here, shade is an asset. However, these trees are not allowed to make much shade. The natural form of these small trees could frame the facade of this house nicely. However, they clash with it defiantly. With their profuse spring bloom and rich foliar color, these trees might enhance the scenery from within the windows. However, they subjugate it and exclude any other scenery, and likely exclude a bit too much sunlight without providing significant cooling shade through summer. I am certainly no landscape designer, but in my opinion, this landscape looks odd. The vegetation is of good quality and quite healthy. The stone and gravel is neatly arranged. The facade of the home is quite appealing. The problem is that the assemblage of the landscape relative to the home is awkward. The tree in the foreground is one of the first three mesquite trees that I ever met when I pruned them up for clearance last year. It and the specimen next to it are also awkwardly placed in front of their home, although the third is in a better situation next to the garage. That is precisely why these three trees were pruned up for clearance, and why they will be pruned higher as they grow. They already provide a bit of shade, and will provide more as they grow.
Eight columns arranged in a semicircle behind the High Place garden at Filoli were found by excavation for the foundation of a skyscraper in San Francisco. The stone from which they were carved is European, but no one knows how or why they were buried under San Francisco. They could have been recycled into one of many buildings that were destroyed by the Great Earthquake and associated fire of 1906, and subsequently buried within landfill with tons of other debis. They were more likely recycled as ballast for a European ship that, as it deteriorated or became obsolete, was dismantled and buried within landfill in San Francisco. It is a mystery. They are in a formal landscape at Filoli now, and will likely remain there for a very long time.
Within a dumpster of recyclable broken concrete, I noticed this old concrete column. With a bit of investigation, I also found the base. Each component is very heavy. I have no idea what they were, but I suspect that they were the base of an elaborate birdbath. I did not find any associate basin within the dumpster. In order to identify their origin, I inquired about these items with those who disposed of them. At the location, I found a small portion of the column that fits between the base and the larger portion of the column, as well as another column that is identical to the original with the smaller portion attached, but no other base. Nor did I find any basin or other features that might have been supported by the columns. They are either already disposed of, or buried by earlier excavation. It is such a waste. Regardless, these items are here now, and will hopefully be incorporated into the landscapes, although I have no idea how.
As expected, the second half of my vacation was delayed. Then, very unexpectedly, all of our delays worked out. Rhody, Carson and I left exactly on time. Then, as unexpectedly, and just an hour from our first destination at Brent’s Jungalow, we were diverted to our final destination near Buckeye near Phoenix in Arizona. The explanation is as tedious as the additional six hour drive, at night and partially through Los Angeles style traffic. We are here now but got almost no pictures yet. We stopped only briefly in San Luis Obispo, where Brent and I were in school from 1985 to 1990, and where a few of our friends live.
1. From his shelf in back, through the dirty windshield, and through the dirty window of a cafe, Rhody stared impatiently at me as I tried to enjoy a bit of coffee the day before we left. ‘Hot Lips’ Salvia microphylla to the left is the only vegetation visible in this picture.
2. Wile E. Coyote also stared at me impatiently, at the end of the same day, as I finished a last task prior to leaving. I can not identify the vegetation that is visible in this picture. I suspect that the tree to the left and above is a common Pacific willow, Salix lasiandra.
3. The hills have eyes. I have no idea what the pair of shrubs at the center of this picture are. I only know that they have not changed since I arrived at Cal Poly in 1985. I got this picture right outside of my classmate’s office in the Alan A. Erhart Agriculture Building.
4. Also right outside of my classmate’s office, several specimens of unidentified eucalypti were recently installed. I recognize none of them. This specimen exhibits remarkably big leaves for the genus. These trees are very close to where I first met Eucalyptus torquata.
5. Barrel cactus, Echinocactus grusonii, dies ugly. It looks like something out of a horror movie, or like it consumed a horror movie. I suspect that this and several other similarly imploded carcasses decayed because of automated irrigation that is intolerably frequent.
6. Is this good or bad landscape design? I typically prefer uniformity and symmetry, but this seems to be excessive. Several rotting specimens, mostly to the right, are disrupting the symmetry, but also leaving voids. I got this random picture as I left San Luis Obispo.
Contractions are awkward for me. I certainly could use them if I want to, I just prefer not to. It is a pointless habit that I should be more comfortable with breaking sometimes.
Another habit that I should indulge in less is the use of six different cultivars of the same species for my ‘Six on Saturday’ posts. I have done it for camellias, rhododendrons, roses, flowering cherries, bearded iris, African daisies and a few other species, including various annuals. I refrained from featuring six azaleas simultaneously for yesterday morning, although I did feature three bearded iris, which comprised half of the ‘Six on Saturday’. I should remember to limit azaleas to three pictures, or preferably two or one, if I feature them on ‘Six on Saturday’ later, as they continue to bloom.
These two pictures of azaleas were omitted from my ‘Six on Saturday’ post yesterday because, as the theme implies, such posts are limited to six pictures. Perhaps I should have used one or both of these pictures instead of one or two pictures of bearded iris. It is too late now.
The first azalea above is variegated. Its leaves resemble those of variegated andromeda. I do not remember what cultivar it is, although the label remains attached to at least one specimen. At least three specimens inhabit the same landscape together. They are blooming better this spring than they have in the past, perhaps because, annually, they are bigger and more established than they were for their previous season.
Relative to the many azaleas here, the second azalea below is nothing special. I like this particular picture because it happens to show a bee visiting the bloom. My pictures tend to be more technical than artistic. Perhaps I should try to include a bit of wildlife sometimes.
North Fourteenth Street is about as close as I have ever been to Italy; but amongst all the Green foliage here, I can find a bit of White albino Redwood foliage. It is a ‘sport’, which is a silly word for mutant growth. Because it lacks chlorophyll, and is consequently unable to photosynthesize, it is reliant on resources that it draws from the tree that generated it, which has a canopy of normal green foliage. Because of this reliance, copies of this mutant growth can not be grown as cuttings. Such cuttings simply could not sustain their own growth. I have made a few unsuccessful attempts to graft this mutant growth onto normal trees. The scions deteriorate before they can graft. I should try again. This foliage really is as strikingly white as it looks in pictures. I am certainly no expert on floral design, and I know that this foliage does not last for long once cut, but I suspect that it would look striking with black bearded iris or black hollyhock, or on a smaller scale, with black pansies or black petunias. Heck, it might likewise be striking with white flowers. In the early 1970s, albino redwoods, which are merely albino sports of normal redwoods, were considered to be very rare, with only a few documented specimens. Although they really are quite rare, many more have been documented since then, and many more, such as this specimen, remain undocumented. I wrote about this albino redwood foliage a few years ago, and was reminded of it by the wildlife photographer of Portraits of Wildflowers near Austin. Except for a few trees that are barely north of the border with Oregon, coastal redwood is exclusively native to the West Coast of California. It is the tallest tree in the World.
Six pictures can not represent all that is blooming now. I did not even try. Nor did I post six pictures of six different cultivars of the same species, as I typically do with camellias, azaleas, rhododendrons, flowering cherries, roses, or other flowers that we grow several cultivars of. I posted three pictures of bearded iris, but I could have procured more than six if I wanted to. I likewise could have posted more than six pictures of different African daisy. I tried to mix it up a bit more than I typically do, as I did with the snakeroot here.
1. Persicaria bistorta, snakeroot and (likely) Iris ensata ‘Variegata’, variegated Japanese iris from Tangly Cottage Gardening are happy on the edge of the pond. The Japanese iris is barely visible at the center. The rest of it is on the edge of another stream. Naturalized exotic Nasturtium officinale, watercress to the upper right shows how close the water is. I thought that there were two cultivars of snakeroot, but found three labels for ‘Superba’, ‘Firetail’ and ‘Dimity’. I can segregate their copies later, but will likely leave these mixed.
2. Clivia miniata ‘Variegata’, variegated Natal lily from Brent’s Jungalow tried to bloom, but this happened before I took a picture. Its cultivar is unidentified, but it is variegated.
3. Osteospermum ecklonis, African daisy blooms too generously for anyone to take all its flowers. About six cultivars inhabit this particular landscape with a few more in another.
4. Iris X germanica, bearded iris are blooming so tall that some should be staked. There are too many cultivars in the Iris Bed to take pictures of, so I will show only these three.
5. All cultivars of the primary Iris Bed are unidentified. At least three that were relocated from the forest are likely feral. One is pale white. This pale yellow looks like Tweety Bird.
6. All of the iris here, like the iris in my garden, have history. This iris is from the former home of an respected colleague. He brought it to me before the garden was demolished.
This is no simple hack job. Someone or a few someones put a great deal of effort into this very thorough hack job. This took significantly more effort than would have been needed to do it properly. Seriously, proper pruning would have been much easier, and much healthier to this victimized vegetation. In the future, this vegetation would have needed much less maintenance. Furthermore, this is more than visually unappealing. It is downright unsightly. Removal of such disfigured shrubbery would be an improvement, even without replacement. As the illustration below demonstrates, this is not merely a single specimen. It is an entire herd of brutally disfigured shrubs. How did someone determine that this was the right thing to do?!
This mangled shrubbery is vine maple, Acer circinatum, which is native to the Pacific Northwest where I got these pictures. I actually like this particular species because it can perform similarly to Japanese maple, but is not Japanese maple, which I am not at all keen on. Part of my dislike of Japanese maple is the result of working with so many that were ruined like these vine maples were. Vine maple is more tolerable to me because it is too rare here at home for me to encounter any that are ruined like these. This is a first for me. Perhaps that is why it was more difficult to ignore than the countless similarly ruined Japanese maples that I do not need to work with, but see around town.
I can not help but wonder what these vine maples would look like if they had developed somewhat natural form with only significant pruning for clearance above the adjacent pavement, perhaps with minor pruning to limit congestion within their canopies.. Would they resemble mature Japanese maples with extra trunks by now?
Tony Tomeo 