Back when horticulture was still respected, a very long time ago, dense shrubbery with finely textured foliage, such as Japanese boxwood, could be purchased already shorn into cubes that only needed to be installed in a closely set row to become an ‘instant hedge’. For some small hedges composed of small plants that recovered efficiently from transplant, it actually worked reasonably well, even if they did not look so great at first. It also worked for a few larger shrubs that happened to transplant very easily, such as glossy privet. Tall arborvitaes happen to work exceptionally well as instant hedges, although the best spacing for them leaves temporary gaps in between. However, most of the best of the bigger shrubbery should not be planted as instant hedges. The taller specie of Pittosporum get too distressed from transplants when mature, so should instead be planted while small, and allowed to grow…
Without becoming invasive, common alyssum, Lobularia maritima, can almost naturalize in favorable situations. It disperses seed profusely, so often appears where it is an asset to the garden. Since it is so docile, it subordinates to more vigorous plants that it mingles with. It does well on loosely set stone walls. If necessary, it is easy to remove or relocate.
Common alyssum blooms with tiny but profuse white flowers. If they naturalize, varieties with pink or purple bloom eventually revert to white bloom after a few generations. Some varieties revert slower than others. Although popular as a warm season annual, alyssum can continue to bloom through next winter. Individual plants may survive for a few years.
Mature alyssum plants might get a bit higher than half a foot, but will get no higher than a foot. If they perform for more than a year, their progeny may begin to replace them before they get shabby. After removal, shabby plants, with a bit of shaking over bare spots, may share their last seed. Alyssum grows easily from seed, and is available in cell packs too.
Cool season annuals were cool just a few months ago. Now, it is getting to be about time to warm up to warm season annuals. They will become a hot commodity as winter yields to spring. Many begin to bloom with warming spring weather, and continue to bloom until autumn. Then, as the weather cools, they relinquish their space to cool season annuals.
Warm season annuals, or summer annuals (or warm season or summer bedding plants), are technically a bit early for a few regions. They should wait until after the last frost date, which might be later in the month for some climates. Even where frost is no threat, it may be too early to replace cool season annuals that continue to perform until spring weather.
Warm season annuals only seem to be seasonable now because the weather has been so pleasantly mild and even warm. Some cool season annuals are already beginning to deteriorate, which facilitates their replacement. Warm season annuals might dislike cool nights and short days, but should appreciate the opportunity to disperse their roots early.
However, some degree of risk is associated with early planting of warm season annuals. Mild frost, although unlikely, is still possible in some climates, and could necessitate frost protection for vulnerable plants. Resumption of rainy and more typically wintry weather is more likely. Heavy rain can thrash fresh bloom. Sustained dampness can cause mildew.
Like warm season vegetable plants, warm season annuals can grow from seed or small plants from cell packs or little pots. Some prefer to grow directly from seed. Others prefer transplanting. Nasturtium, for example, prefer direct sowing. Petunia, which perform well after transplant as seedlings or small plants, are likely to languish if they grow from seed.
Because seed take a bit of time to germinate, they can go into the garden slightly prior to the last frost date, and earlier than vulnerable seedlings. Similarly, they can start within a greenhouse early for later transplant. With proper scheduling, frost should no longer be a problem by the time seedlings emerge above the garden soil, or are ready for transplant. More variety is obtainable as seed.
Saint Joseph did not have it so good. He is still the most famous carpenter, and somehow got the most excellent city in the World named after him, but he did not work in a shop like this one. The most well outfitted carpentry shops back then lacked modern power tools, and the selection of woods that are now so easily imported from all over the World.
The best lumber in this shop at the Conference Center (where I work in the landscapes part time) is actually not the exotic sort. Three very important timber crops, (coastal) redwood, Douglas fir and ponderosa pine, happen to be native. A few of the larger of these trees that need to be removed get milled into lumber that gets used here.
Much of the lumber shown in this illustration is recycled from old buildings that were built from local lumber at a time…
Today’s episode is brought to you by the letter ‘T’.
This is not Sesame Street.
Nor is this freshly painted concrete ‘T’ a monogram that designates the garden as mine. Even I am not ‘that’ vain.
It is part of a sign at the train depot. There happen to be enough of the right letters for my last name. I suppose that with a pry bar and a shovel, I could be ‘that’ vain.
There is no ‘Y’, so my first name would not work, particularly in conjunction with my last name, which would take the only ‘T’ and ‘O’ available. Am I really vain enough to be putting this much thought into this? Oh my! For right now, I should only be concerned with keeping the vegetation clear of the sign. The amaryllis foliage above barely flops into it. The overgrown photinia hedge behind the amaryllis was just removed…
Esperanza and poinciana (pride of Barbados) from Crazy Green Thumbs will be delayed again. I still have not sown the seed, and when I do, I will likely delay posting pictures of them until I have exhausted all of these pointless pictures that Brent sends to me. There may be six more for next week after these six. Fortunately, the few that arrived since this purging began are not very interesting, so need not be shared. These six pictures arrived at various times through the past few months; and I did not document dates for them. It would be difficult to identify their chronology without inquiring with Brent, and without familiarity with potentially observable seasonal indicators of the particular climate. I am less than three hundred fifty miles away, but in an entirely different climate and region.
1. Baby queen palm, Chamaedorea plumosa, which is not princess palm, Dictyosperma album, is related to popular bamboo palm, Chamaedorea seifrizii. Brent got this for me.
2. Of all of Brent’s landscapes, this might be my favorite. The formality is rad. However, these illuminated Canary Island date palms, Phoenix canariensis, must be embarrassed.
3. Mexican fan palm, Washingtonia robusta, is a most common palm of the Los Angeles region. Although palms are popularly informal, some might be formal and symmetrical.
4. Mexican fan palm dominate the view. Kentia palm, Howea forsteriana, California fan palm, Washingtonia filifera, and queen palm, Arecastrum romanzoffianum, got in too.
5. Brent likes to show off his palms. They are more visible from next door than from the garden they inhabit. The Mexican fan palm is a Memorial Tree for Brent’s brother Brian.
6. Coons! The arborist who pruned this Mexican fan palm returned to finish shaving the trunk, but found that a pair of coons who inhabited the beard were not ready to relocate.
The soft yellow or rusty red bare stems of osier dogwood have better color where exposed to cold and sunlight.
New spring foliage will soon be obscuring the rusty red or light yellow stems of osier dogwood, Cornus sericea (or Cornus stolonifera). Because this odd dogwood is grown for these distinctively colorful stems instead of blooms, it can be pruned harshly before foliation, to promote more twiggy growth for next winter. Unpruned plants form thickets five to ten feet high and ten or more feet broad. The flowers are actually rather pathetic relative to those of other dogwoods, since they lack colorful bracts. Where exposed to frost, the opposing two or three inch long and one or two inch wide leaves can provide nice reddish autumn color.
My neice finds seeds for most of her favorite vegetables, flowers and herbs, like this prolific chamomile, at Renee’s Garden.
Even after a few years of trying most of the seeds available from Renee’s Garden Seed catalog, my niece still wants to grow them all every year. Sadly, her compact garden and landscape designer father who thinks he owns it can not accommodate all the seeds that she wants. She is therefore forced to limit selection to her favorites and those that she has not yet tried.
‘Cupani’s Original’ and ‘Perfume Delight’ are still her favorite sweet peas because they are so very fragrant. The big softly blushed pale yellow flowers of ‘April in Paris’ are a close second. Although not as fragrant, I wanted her to try ‘Electric Blue’ for its shaggier darker green foliage and smaller but refined deep blue flowers.
Perhaps as a strategy for an alliance, my niece’s oppressive father planted ‘Buttercream’ nasturtiums, which was a new variety with semi-double cream colored flowers. She rebelled with the brilliant red shades of ‘Copper Sunset’. The softer orange shades of ‘Creamsicle’ was a diplomatic compromise.
Both could agree on the soft lavender and pink shades and white of ‘Gulf Winds’ alyssum, the rich deep pinks of ‘Mountain Garland’ clarkia, and the traditional ‘Mrs. Scott Elliot’ columbine, since all three are so complaisant with mixed annuals and perennials. Taller and more vigorous cosmos got their own space. ‘Dancing Petticoats’ provided a mixture of cheery pink shades. ‘White Seashells’ looked sharp against the deep green privet hedge.
Since utilitarian vegetable plants are inconsistent with such a designer landscape, my niece grew vegetables that are as flashy as foliage plants. I suggested richly colored ‘Scarlet Charlotte’ chard, with a bit of ‘Italian Silver’ that exhibits distinctive white petioles and veins. She went for the more colorful ‘Garden Rainbow’, ‘Neon Glow’ and ‘Bright Lights’.
Some (but not all) of Renee’s Garden vegetable seed mixes have a distinct advantage of color coding. The various seeds withing these mixes are dyed with different colors so they can be planted separately if desired. Since seed packets usually contain more seeds than are actually needed, vegetable seed mixes are a practical way to get fewer but enough of a few different types of seed in single packets.
More varieties of seeds are available from the online catalog of Renee’s Garden Seed at www.reneesgarden.com than at retail nurseries. Yet with so many fun varieties to try, the retail seed racks certainly have more selection than any garden really needs. If it were at all possible to try them all, my neice would have figured out how to do it already.
This landscape is nothing fancy. It is out in front of a fast food establishment on Ocean Street in Santa Cruz. It is low maintenance, and starkly simple. It would be nice if the so-called ‘gardeners’ would cut back the African iris and English lavender a bit better, but they may have left them like this so that they are less likely to get trampled. The colored chips get replenished regularly, and the trash gets harvested quite efficiently. As I said, it is nothing fancy. The only remarkable feature had been this exemplary crape myrtle in the middle.
Only a few weeks ago, it was a perfect small specimen. Even though it is still quite dinky, the main stems were all at good angles, well spaced and aimed in the right directions. None of the stems were crossing over others, damaged or otherwise misshapen. I can not explain what happened…
Even when weather is more typical for the local climate, many types of flowering apricot, Prunus mume, bloom during winter. Flowers seem to be a bit more resilient to wind, rain and frost than those of flowering cherry that bloom a month or so later. Nonetheless, they are delicate and share their white or pastel pink color with wintry landscapes only briefly.
Although many garden varieties of flowering apricot are fruitless, some, particularly feral trees, produce fruit. Some of such fruit is desirable to those who utilize it. However, most is unpalatable without specialized processing. Flowering apricot works as understock for a few related trees, so occasionally grows from the roots of such trees after their removal.
Flowering apricot is quite rare locally, which is why it seems to be so unseasonable as it blooms so early. Like flowering cherry and plum, it blooms on otherwise bare stems prior to generating new foliage for spring. Copious bloom of garden varieties is nicely fragrant. Flowers are nearly an inch wide. Mature trees are about ten to more than twenty feet tall, and almost as broad.