Weed Eater

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.

Cicada

The left wing seems to be injured.

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.)

Six on Saturday: Early or Late

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.

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/

Change of Scenery

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.

Blue or Pink

As a native of the Santa Clara Valley, I am still impressed by blue feral hydrangeas.

Hydrangeas were so much more predictable only a few decades ago. They were either colored or white. White was obviously white. In the Santa Clara Valley, colored was pink. We knew them as colored only because they technically had potential to be blue, whether or not we actually saw it. Application of aluminum sulfate was necessary for blue floral color. Such color was only temporary, and could fade in the process of bloom if the dosage of aluminum sulfate was inadequate. Consequently, blue hydrangeas were rare. However, within the redwood forests of the Santa Cruz Mountains to the south and west of the Santa Clara Valley, most colored hydrangeas were blue. Application of lime was necessary to make them pink. Just like blue floral color within the Santa Clara Valley, pink floral color within the redwood forests was only temporary, and could fade in the process of bloom if the dosage of lime was inadequate. Nowadays modern hydrangeas are not so sensitive to soil pH. Blue hydrangeas bloom a bit more purplish in the Santa Clara Valley, but are still mostly blue. Pink hydrangeas likewise bloom a bit more purplish in the Santa Cruz Mountains, but are still mostly pink.

Hazards

Horticultural industries are innately hazardous. Most horticultural professionals work outside in all sorts of weather, regardless of what that weather might be; stormy, cold hot and so on. Some of us who grow horticultural commodities might occasionally work with hazardous chemicals, and many of us work exhaustingly long hours, and sometimes in the dark of night. Those who work with landscapes might also work with the same chemicals, as well as potentially hazardous motorized tools. Arborists work with the most hazardous machinery, as well as dangerously heavy debris falling from great heights, and those who climb do their work dangerously high above the ground. Then there is this, which sounds much worse than its bad punctuation. “!PLEASE DO NOT! SIT (I WAS HIT BY A STRAY METEOR)” It sounds like all sorts of bad! I do not know what is worse, sitting or a stray meteor. It is not actually a horticultural concern, but the implication is that whatever happened, it happened on this now broken bench that was formerly located within one of the landscapes that we work in. I suspect that the bench merely broke because it was deteriorated by the weather, which is a concern of meteorology.

Six on Saturday: P III

P was about a white blooming perennial pea, Lathyrus latifolius, that I recently found to replace what I inadvertently lost earlier. P II was irrelevant to both that and this, but did happen to get a title that incorrectly designates it as a sequel to P, and prevents me from using that title for this Six on Saturday post with three variants of perennial pea and the more typical sort. Perhaps I should not have expended such effort for such a weed. What is worse is that I canned and am now growing copies of the three variants as well as the favored white blooming variant.

1. Canna are irrelevant to the primary topic, but are too cool to not mention. These were placed here temporarily in random pots until a new landscape gets installed next winter.

2. Canna musifolia dominates, which is why there is not much bloom. This one stands a bit more than eight feet high in its pot. It might be ‘Omega’ like the compact Oldsmobile.

3. Lathyrus latifolius, perennial pea is the primary topic because I found three variants. This one blooms with swirled pink flowers. It is about as rare as those that bloom white.

4. This looks white in this picture but is actually blushed very slightly with pink. I should have gotten a better picture. I dug and canned a copy because I had never seen it before.

5. This is the typical floral color of the species. To me, it looks purplish pink. I am not so proficient with color. Others say it is pinkish purple. It justifies my preference for white.

6. Like the picture of the very slightly blushed white flowers, this is not a good picture of flowers that seem to be slightly richer purple than the typical purplish pink. I got a copy.

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/

Sports

This white lily of the Nile appeared this summer within this exclusively blue colony.

Horticulturally, a sport is a genetically variant growth. Although it is more common among extensively bred or genetically aberrative cultivars than simple species, the most basic of lily of the Nile can, on rare occasion, change floral color from blue to white or from white to blue, as I mentioned on the sixth of July. Unvariegated or ‘green’ sports are a more common annoyance among some cultivars with variegated foliage, such as popular cultivars of Euonymus japonica, since they grow faster with more chlorophyll, and can overwhelm the original and more desirable variegated growth. The yellow hybrid gladiola that I posted a picture of for Six on Saturday on the twenty-ninth of June could be a sport of an adjacent orange and yellow hybrid gladiola. I did not give it much consideration because I assumed it to be the first bloom that I noticed from one of a few bulbs that somehow survived for a few years longer than expected. Until last summer, the only hybrid gladiolas to survive from a mixed batch planted years earlier had been either purple or the aforementioned orange and yellow. However, now that the yellow bloom is gone, an equally unfamiliar orangish red bloom emerged from the same small colony of bulbs that had bloomed only orange and yellow. As their common name suggests, hybrid gladiolas are hybrids, so are innately genetically unpredictable, and therefore have potential to generate sports as they multiply. Although I do not know for certain that this new orangish red hybrid gladiola did not survive without blooming for the past few years, I sort of suspect that it and the new yellow hybrid gladiola are more recently developed sports of the original orange and yellow hybrid gladiola. I hope that both are as reliably perennial as the original.

This orangish red hybrid gladiola seems to be a sport of the orange and yellow hybrid gladiola.

July 12, 2024 – Memorial Tree Update (July 14)

The Memorial Tree is becoming a productive member of its ecosystem!

Every year, there is less to write about regarding the Memorial Tree in Felton Covered Bridge Park. That is because every year, it becomes more independent. It no longer needs structure pruning for clearance above the surrounding parking lot. It no longer benefits from supplemental irrigation. The mesh around the base of the trunk really should be removed. So should the truss between the two lowest main limbs. The stake remains merely as a precaution for strong winds, but is likely completely unnecessary. It can be removed after defoliation next winter. The trunk is quite sturdy. Growth is quite vigorous. The branch structure seems to be rather awkward, but such structure is normal for such young specimens of this particular species, and is very unlikely to compromise structural integrity as the tree matures. The canopy is slightly asymmetrical, but not problematically so. The crew who maintains the park replenishes the mulch within the parking lot island around the tree more regularly than they had in the past, and cuts weeds when necessary. They are very protective of this tree, so pull weeds between the trunk and the surrounding mesh rather than get too close to the trunk with their weed whackers. Recently, a neighbor pulled weeds before weed whacking became necessary. Although oaks can technically bloom and produce acorns after only about five years, almost all delay bloom until they are about twenty years old, and some wait until they are twice as old. A lack of bloom this early is therefore normal. The development of two oak apples was a surprise though. Apparently, an oak apple gall moth considers this tree to be mature enough to sustain its eggs. It is as if this little Memorial Tree is already growing up to become a productive member of its ecosystem!

From the ground, I could not get a good picture of these first oak apples.

Perennial Gladiolus

Gladiolus papilio, butterfly gladiolus

Gladiolus papilio, butterfly gladiolus has been performing very well, and, unlike the more common fancy hybrid gladiolus, it has been very reliably perennial. It multiplies and migrates like a wildflower. I know that I brag about it more than I should, and I just posted a picture of it for Six on Saturday last Saturday, but it happens to be one of my favorite perennials now. It was a gift from Tangly Cottage Gardening in the autumn of 2018, almost six years ago. Prior to that, I had been wanting to grow perennial gladiolus for quite a while, although I was not familiar with such species. I was only familiar with the common fancy hybrid sorts, which are generally not reliably perennial. Gladiolus murielae, Abyssinian gladiolus that arrived a few years ago as a gift from a neighbor may eventually inhabit a different portion of the same landscape that the butterfly gladiolus inhabits. It neither multiplies nor migrates as much as the butterfly gladiolus, and is a bit more garish in bloom, but is both reliably perennial and compatible with wildflowers, and technically, is probably more appropriate to that particular refined landscape. Various cultivars of Watsonia, bugle lily, most of which also came from Tangly Cottage Gardening, could also inhabit the same landscape. There is no rush to decide anytime soon, and the refined landscapes at work are constantly evolving. Within my home garden, I can be less concerned with how visually compatible some of such species and cultivars are, and be more concerned with growing what I enjoy. After all, that is how I acquire so many odd species and cultivars with so much history and from so many important gardens, and even from so many natural ecosystems. It is what makes my home garden so important to me.