Early Rain

This could be a sequel to ‘Late Summer’ from yesterday. It happened shortly afterward. It certainly adds another interesting component to this already odd year of weather. Although not impossible, rain at this time of year is rare. Almost all of the rain here occurs between late autumn and early spring.

Weirdly, if rain does occur during summer, it typically does so around the fifteenth of August. Seriously, it is very prompt about that schedule. It typically either begins or ends on that same date.

The first flash of lightning of the storm that started the CZU Fire occurred at 11:59 p.m. on the night of the fifteenth of August of 2020, less than a minute prior to midnight. So, although the storm occurred during the early morning of the sixteenth, it technically began on the night of the fifteenth.

This brief rain shower was minimal, but by local standards, it was surprising. I sort of wanted it to continue long enough to dampen and contain the dust of summer. It might have done so briefly, but could not prevent the dust from becoming dusty again shortly afterward. The aroma of damp asphalt dissipated even before that happened. It was fun while it lasted.

Perhaps this rain shower will be the last of this unusually autumnish weather. Warm and dry summery weather typically resumes immediately after brief rain showers that happen during the middle of August. Technically, for a summer rain shower, it is only half a month late. So far, the forecast does not suggest that pattern, but it has been wrong before, even here. I doubt that there will be any more rain prior to autumn, even if cool autumnish weather resumes until then. But of course, I have been wrong more often than weather forecasts.

Late Summer

Such weather is early this year.

The change of seasons can be boring here. It might seem as if this climate experiences only two seasons. Summer is the primary season, which seems to extend through most of the year, with what seems to be merely a few days of another brief secondary season which is not summer. Perhaps this brief secondary season is autumn, winter and spring, but that is too many letters and big words for such a small season.

That is how those who are familiar with more distinct seasons might perceive seasons of this innately mild climate. Those of us who are familiar with this climate perceive it quite differently. We are aware of the four seasons, regardless of how mundane the transitions between them seem to be. In fact, some might contend that, if autumn seems to be minimal here, it is merely because this climate experiences a fifth season between summer and autumn, which is known as Indian summer.

Indian summer is an extension of summery weather into autumn, and sometimes occurs after summer seems to have begun to succumb to autumn. It does not happen annually, and does not seem to be happening this year, but certainly could. It is sneaky that way.

For now though, autumn seems to be sneaking into the last two weeks of summer, much like Indian summer sometimes sneaks into autumn. Nights have been interestingly cool. Low clouds have been lingering a bit longer after sunrise than they typically do.

However, vegetation that enjoys warmth does not seem to be decelerating for cooler weather. Perhaps such vegetation knows more than the rest of us do about what to expect. Perhaps it is merely more responsive to photoperiod than weather. Regardless, I get the impression that this is how late summer typically is within other climates.

Six on Saturday: Frosty Forecast

Frost is not a problem here. The several species here that are not resilient to frost are the problem. The first of my Six actually has no problem with frost, but does have a problem with starting too late to finish prior to frost next winter. The second also has no problem with frost, but does not want to bloom as weather cools into autumn. The other four are from a frostless region of Los Angeles. I neglected to protect them from the earliest frost last winter because I did not expect it. Their recovery was slow through mild spring and summer weather. They are now growing vigorously rather than decelerating for autumn. This increases their vulnerability to frost next winter.

1. Dahlia X pinnata, mixed dinnerplate dahlias are starting to grow, with only a third of their season left. I described the delay last week. Only three of two dozen survived so far.

2. Gardenia jasminoides, gardenia seems to be healthy, and generated a typical number of floral buds, but is now shedding such floral buds, likely in response to cooling nights.

3. Solandra maxima, cup of gold vine was new here when it got frosted last winter, then grew slowly through atypically cool weather last spring, and is now growing like a weed!

4. Platycerium bifurcatum, staghorn fern also waited a bit too long to start growing like this. It could eventually enjoy rain and humidity through winter, but not even mild frost.

5. Heliconia psittacorum, parakeet flower has done well since last winter. I brought nine rhizomes from Los Angeles. They are still a bit too small to survive average frost though.

6. Dichorisandra thyrsiflora, blue ginger is likely even more vulnerable to frost. Most of its cuttings did not survive last winter. I am impressed and pleased with the six that did.

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/

Horridculture – Nature

Nature is dysfunctional.

Horticulture is unnatural. It involves unnatural manipulation of exotic species that were unnaturally imported from all over the World. It provides unnatural irrigation and unnatural chemical fertilizers and amendments. It involves unnatural containment of many plants within unnatural synthetic media within unnatural plastic cans or other containers. It strives to eliminate much of what is natural, such as pathogens and competition. It is ironic that so many believe that a simple but totally unnatural houseplant brings a bit of nature into their particular environment.

Nature, although quite natural, is dysfunctional. It is messy. It is dirty. It is tragic. It is potentially dangerous. It is overrated. Realistically, it is a hot mess of problems. Somehow though, it seems to be appealing.

That is why so many of us strive to incorporate more nature into our respective lifestyles by very unnatural means. We crave a sort of idealized version of what we believe nature should be. It would likely be easier and more efficient to accept such attempts as unnatural, and exclude what nature might try to contribute.

Some are quite happy to live and work in high rise homes and offices with minimal natural influence. They still breathe natural air, and appreciate natural sunlight and the stabilizing effects of natural gravity, but shelter themselves from what is most bothersome about nature outside, such as weather, wildlife and most insects.

This unfortunate old coast live oak is an exemplary victim of nature. It grew here naturally for two centuries or so. It obtained all that it needed from the natural soil, air and weather. It survived natural insect infestations, and long ago, may have survived natural forest fires. Ultimately though, perhaps in conjunction with a bit of natural wind and natural fungal organisms associated with decay, it succumbed to natural gravity.

This old oak finally succumbed to the same nature that it exploited for centuries.

Jungle Update

New foliage is already beginning to replace older foliage.

Strelitzia nicolai, giant bird of Paradise is growing! It is not much growth, but it is more than expected. The specimens were heeled in about a month ago to begin the slow process of recovery from division and relocation. Within the damp soil of their temporary situation, they should begin to develop rudimentary roots without actually dispersing them too remotely prior to another relocation to their more permanent landscape after the beginning of the rainy season of autumn. In other words, the roots should begin to grow, but not grow too much.

They can grow more when they get settled within their permanent situation. This is done in two separate processes because the specimens are easier to monitor and irrigate prior to rain within the confined space where they are heeled in. Besides, they would not be very appealing within their permanent landscapes until they begin to recover. Once they begin to recover, they should grow faster, so will not be too unappealing for too long, and even if they are, it will be through winter, when fewer people are here to notice.

Anyway, while they begin the process of recovery and development of rudimentary roots, foliar growth is expected to be minimal. It was expected to stagnate for at least a month or so, and then to slowly resume as the minimal foliage that was retained deteriorates. Like root growth, foliar growth should accelerate after final relocation.

Instead, foliar growth is already accelerating, perhaps as a response to removal of so much of the original foliage while foliage is necessary to sustain rudimentary root growth. Perhaps these specimens actually are as healthy and as vigorous as they seem to be. Although this fresh new foliar growth will be more vulnerable to frost through winter, it is nonetheless gratifyingly encouraging.

Proud Land

Proud Land

‘La France’, in 1867, was the first hybrid tea rose to be hybridized. ‘Peace’, in 1945, was the first hybrid tea rose to be classified as a hybrid tea rose. Yes, it took quite a while.

Afterward, hybrid tea roses became very popular both for the cut flower industry and home gardens from the 1950s through the 1980s. Because of their single bold flowers that bloom on tall and sturdy stems from spring until autumn, they are still very popular as florist flowers. However, more florific floribunda roses became more popular for home gardens through the 1990s. Since the turn of the Century, all sorts of simpler shrubby roses, such as carpet roses, became more popular than all of the other types of roses. Hybrid tea roses and other types that produce comparably exemplary cut flowers require more specialized maintenance than most people want to commit to. Sadly, hybrid tea roses are now passe.

‘Proud Land’ was the first of the hybrid tea roses that I installed into my mother’s new rose garden in 1984. It came from Jackson & Perkins while Jackson & Perkins was still based out of Medford in Oregon. Unfortunately, it suckered so profusely during its first season that I wrote a letter to Jackson & Perkins about it. Jackson & Perkins generously replaced it for the following season. Also, my mother, who was unaware of the replacement, purchased another replacement. As if that were not enough, I managed to abscise all sucker and burl growth from the original while it was dormant for the following winter. So, three individual specimens of ‘Proud Land’ bloomed at the center of the small rose garden for 1985, which was the year that I graduated high school.

Technically, hybrid tea roses are at their best after about five years, but should probably be replaced before about ten years. ‘Proud Land’ continued to perform though, with no indication of deterioration, until I finally removed them in 2020. They live here now. I grew a few ungrafted copies from their pruning scraps. I should properly graft a few copies also. Realistically, there is no need to retire the originals.

Some consider hybrid tea roses to be passe. I consider them to be historical.

Six on Saturday: You Get What You Pay For

It all started when I succumbed to the temptation of cheap but out of season bulbs. They were actually canna rhizomes that did not work out so well. The supplier gave me credit, which I used to purchase cheap but out of season dahlia tubers. I suppose that I can not blame the supplier twice. I should have known better from the beginning than to violate my most basic rule against purchasing plant material, even if I try to justify doing so for work. Contrary to the title of these Six, ginger, elderberry and a dinky lime tree that cost nothing are working out quite nicely.

1. Dahlia X pinnata, mixed dinnerplate dahlias were purchased with the credit that I got for the ‘Red King Humbert’ Canna that were both virused and not ‘Red King Humbert’. I again fail to be impressed. I canned any that were not completely desiccated, but do not expect any survivors. I should have requested a total refund after the primary purchase.

2. Dahlia X pinnata, mixed dinnerplate dahlias grow through spring for summer bloom. I figured that, even without enough time to bloom, they could grow enough to replenish their resources before winter dormancy, and then grow and bloom next year. I assumed that tubers that are available this late had been refrigerated to maintain their dormancy. Instead, a few diligently tried to grow earlier, but could not escape from their packaging.

3. Zingiber officinale, ginger is not so limited by seasons. It grows whenever it wants to.

4. Citrus X latifolia ‘Bearss’, Persian lime grew from the stump of a tree that I pulled out of a neighbor’s yard. It cost nothing, but will eventually be worth more than I paid for it.

5. Sambucus nigra ‘Madonna’, European black elderberry likewise cost nothing, and for a while, it looked as such. It provided sixteen copies though, and the first found a home.

6. Rhody is irrelevant to the previous five of these six, but everyone wants to see Rhody.

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/

Horridculture – Nice Trellis

Heard but not seen it through the grapevine.

This is such a visually appealing trellis at the Cavallaro Transit Center in Scotts Valley. It is so very visually appealing that no one wanted to obscure its visual appeal with the two vines that it was intended to support. It is very well designed also. Neat holes were left in the concrete pavement for the two vines that were not planted. Capped terminuses of the irrigation system that was intended to provide the absent vines with water are ready for installation of emitters. The otherwise exposed ground was covered neatly with gravel. It is all well executed.

All that is missing is the vines.

Realistically though, who notices? It really is a visually appealing trellis. Vines would be visually appealing also, but would also clutter the landscape more. Besides, they would require more maintenance, and the surrounding landscape already lacks adequate maintenance. The empty trellis actually seems to be an asset to the otherwise bland landscape. I only notice the absence of vines because I am a horticulturist.

I will say that I am not so keen on such structures in other landscapes. Most are overbuilt. Many such as this are within situations that trees would be more practical.

I have encountered several similar structures, but with single pillars, in downtown Livermore. Grapevines climbed them to form inadequately and improperly pruned grape trees to flank the main streets. Honeylocusts that flanked the same streets would have been more than adequate alone. The grapevines were intended to commemorate the formerly vast regional vineyard that were replaced by equally vast tracts of home, but their shabbiness was too insulting.

Landscape designers and architects should realize that vines require significant specialized maintenance. Architects rely on landscape designers to select vines for their trellises. Landscape designers rely on gardeners to maintain their vines.

What a splendid hole in the concrete!

White Perennial Pea

Bright pink, light pink, but no white here.

Perennial pea is a somewhat naturalized exotic species here. It may not be aggressively invasive enough to be classified as a weed though. However, I would classify some of it that I can not exterminate from at least one of our landscapes as weeds. Once it gets established, it is very persistent.

It seems to prefer to grow on roadsides or fences. It is not so common in flat open spaces. It rarely gets big enough to overwhelm or otherwise damage other vegetation. It dies back when the weather gets too inhospitable for it. It regenerates when the weather is more comfortable.

Perennial pea certainly is pretty. Almost all of it blooms with typical bright purplish pink flowers. A few uncommon specimens bloom with variations of lighter pink. White is even more rare. Only red is more rare than white. I have never seen it growing wild. Although seed for red perennial pea is available, I know of no one who has actually grown it.

Therefore, until someone can prove that red actually exists amongst naturalized perennial pea, white is the rarest color. It might also be my favorite. I can not decide. White is my favorite color. Also, perennial pea happens to look great in white. Yet, the familiar obnoxiously bright pink is so typical of the species. It is the color that everyone expects to see growing wild on local roadsides.

I was fortunate to find a specimen at work that blooms white. I grew a few copies of it, but kept them canned. I shared some with colleagues in other regions until only two remained here. I was not too alarmed when these last two were overwhelmed by other vegetation and died, since I thought I could grow more copies from the original specimen. That was until I found that the original was destroyed by excavation to mitigate erosion from last winter!

I believe that another specimen that blooms white lives nearby. Its particular colony has already finished bloom for the season. I must therefore wait for it to resume bloom, or look for errant bloom through winter. After getting so involved with it, perhaps it really will be my favorite.

Muskogee?

This is not a color I had expected.

What cultivar of crape myrtle is this?! I realize that this picture is blurred, which is why it was not included within my ‘Six on Saturday’ post this morning, but it is the floral color that is important. Is it purplish pink, or just bright pink? What cultivar does it look like?

I expected this crape myrtle to be one of the old reliable cultivars because it was a gift from the Arbor Day Foundation. The primary old reliable cultivar that blooms with similar floral color is ‘Muskogee’. Yet, even with my limited ability to discern color quality, this floral color seems to be a bit too rich. I sort of expect a milder and scarcely purplish pink from ‘Muskogee’. I suppose that the Arbor Day Foundation can also grow modern cultivars like the rest of us.

Regardless of its identity, it is certainly pretty. The foliar color during autumn is comparable to that of old reliable cultivars. Because neighbors like it, I grew a few copies for them. We would like to incorporate more crape myrtles into the landscapes at work. The abundance of spring color from other species there mostly finishes prior to the summer bloom of crape myrtle. Summer is the busiest season, so justifies flashy color.

Embarrassingly though, I am still none too keen on crape myrtle. If I did not typically spell ‘crape’ as ‘crepe’, I would prefer to spell it without the ‘e’ at the end. I was impressed with it when I first started to notice it through the 1980s, but then realized that it was becoming too common through the 1990s. That was long after Brent told me that it had become too common throughout the Los Angeles region significantly earlier. Decades later, it is still too much of a good thing.