All Saints’ Day is November 1. As the name implies, it is a feast day that honors all Saints. It is one of the most important Holy Days of the Catholic Church. Yet, not many of us know about it.
We are much more familiar with the day before, which had been known as All Hollows’ Eve, and is now known simply as Halloween. Although some of the associated traditions are fun for children, Halloween has become an excuse for people to dress up in costumes, party, ruin perfectly good pumpkins, and behave stupidly. What an unsaintly way to celebrate, just prior to the day designated to honor all Saints! Saint Patrick’s Day is no better. People dress up in green, party, exchange disposable potted shamrocks, and behave stupidly, all on a day that had been designated to honor a Saint whom they know very little about, and care even…
After a forest fire, white alder, Alnus rhombifolia, might be the first trees to regenerate into freshly deforested riparian situations. It grows quickly to exploit such an opportunity, and temporarily dominate a recovering ecosystem. Individual trees do not live for much more than half a century though. Then, they relinquish area to slower but more enduring trees.
Years ago, white alders did the same in new landscapes that needed shade. They grew fast to provide shade while preferable trees matured slowly. They subordinated and then vacated their landscapes as the preferred trees grew. Unfortunately, this technique is not so practical within municipalities that require but rarely grant permits for removal of trees.
Although native, white alder is not prominent everywhere within its natural range. It might seem to be rare in Southern California, with only a few sporadic trees to provide seed for regeneration after a fire. Farther north, large and sustained colonies resist encroachment of other trees. Mature white alders can get forty to eighty feet tall, or taller where crowded by taller trees.
Autumn is also fall for a reason. It is the season during which most deciduous foliage will fall. Some deciduous trees that lack good fall color may look neater without their shabby old foliage. Sadly though, the splendidly colorful deciduous trees must shed also. All that collective debris that succumbs to weather and gravity gets messy, and can clog gutters.
Evergreen plants shed too. They are just sneakier about it. Some shed old foliage during spring or summer while simultaneously replacing it to stay evergreen. Some shed slowly but steadily for several months, rather than concentrating the mess within a brief season. Many shed during autumn though, as wind and rain dislodge their lingering older foliage.
Whether deciduous or evergreen, various plants shed at various rates. Monterey cypress shed so steadily through the year that they are never caught in the act. Fruitless mulberry can defoliate in just a few days if frosted suddenly enough. Sudden defoliation seems to be messier, but can be an advantage. For example, gutters may need cleaning just once.
Weather is also variable. Rain began a bit early this year. The associated dampness can accelerate defoliation for some species. Other species respond more to temperature. An early chill may accelerate their shedding. It is therefore impossible to predict when it will be necessary to rake fallen leaves or clean gutters. There are simply too many variables.
Unfortunately, the weather that causes leaves to fall is the very same weather that makes raking and cleaning gutters so unpleasant. No one wants to work in the garden while it is cold. Nor does anyone want to get onto a dangerously wet roof to clean gutters. There is no need to rake or clean gutters before rain and cool weather cause debris to fall though.
It should be obvious when it is necessary to rake leaves from lawn, pavement and street gutters. Bigger leaves tend to be more problematic by clogging drainage. Smaller leaves may just as easily stain pavement or decking though. Roof gutters are not so visible, but probably need cleaning while raking is necessary nearby, and hopefully before clogging.
Since this article posted three years ago, I have been through this old neighborhood a few times. Much of it is barely recognizable. However, it is amazing how familiar some of it is.
By modern standards, the public schools that I attended in the early 1970s would be considered to be bleak and primitive. The building were utilitarian and simple, from about twenty years earlier. The landscaping was comparably simple, with a big lawn and proportionately big shade trees. A screen of alternating Monterey pine and Monterey cypress was hedged on the southern half of the eastern boundary of the schoolyard. The only deviants to the simplicity were a few significantly older trees on the northern half of the eastern boundary of the school yard. There were two coastal redwoods, a Canary Island date palm, a cedar, and a spruce of some sort. They were all quite mature, and were likely remnants from an old farmhouse that was there before. Perhaps they wanted us to be aware that everything changes. On the way to kindergarten, back when children were allowed to walk to…
Calocedrus decurrens. Incense cedar. The first tree that I ever planted was a small incense cedar, like the tree in the picture here. Of course, it was not this big when I planted it.
It came from my maternal grandparents’ cabin near Pioneer, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. It was a wild seedling that might have been pulled up because it was where the cabin was to be built. My grandmother planted it into a small wooden planter in the backyard. Once it recovered and started to grow, she gave it to my parents, who had me plant it on a small hill in the back yard. Although not native to the Santa Clara Valley, it did well, and grew tall and lean. I tend to compare all incense cedars to my first tree.
Almost all are older and bigger, with plump trunks. I can guess from…
New England is even farther away than Williamsburg. Although I have never been there, I sometimes think that some of the vegetation here resembles vegetation there, particularly as foliage and berries get colorful during autumn and winter. Autumn is a bit later here, and does not last as long. The associated color is relatively subdued. There are not as many colorfully deciduous trees. I do enjoy showing off what we get though. There is so much more to California than boringly evergreen palm trees and redwoods; and redwoods happen to make an excellent backdrop for New England style fall color! I will brag about various palms later.
1. Rio Grande turkey was intentionally naturalized here a long time ago, but only began to invade local home gardens since about the 1990s. To me, they look like they belong in New England.
2. Lantana camara makes these weird black berries, which the turkeys are not interested in. Just like turkeys, colorful (or just black) berries in autumn remind me of gardens in New England.
3. Moss, which had been rather grungy and brown through late summer, is now rich and vibrant green from rain last Wednesday. I suspect that moss such as this is common in New England.
4. Tulip tree, Liriodendron tulipifera, is native to neither Maine nor New Hampshire, and was extirpated from its two native counties in Vermont, but is native to other parts of New England.
5. Flowering dogwood, Cornus florida, is coincidentally extirpated from the same two counties in Vermont that tulip tree formerly inhabited, and is also native to other parts of New England.
6. English holly, Ilex aquifolium, is from England, which is the original or Old England. It is naturalized here. Just like the other five of these six, to me, it looks like it belongs in New England.
This is the link for Six on Saturday, for anyone else who would like to participate:
There are not many trees that are as reliable for strikingly bright and clear yellow autumn foliar color as the maidenhair tree, Gingko biloba, is, even in mild coastal climates. The distinctive leaves flare out like fish tails, each with a prominent cleft that divides it into two wide lobes. (The species name ‘biloba’ means ‘two lobed’.) Some cultivars lack foliar clefts, have narrower leaves, or even develop milder yellow color in autumn. Those developed for home gardens exhibit relatively symmetrical branch structure, and are exclusively male, so can not produce the stinky fruit that some older female trees drop. (Trees grown from seed can be either male or female. Female cultivars are grown for fruit production and bonsai.) Some ancient trees in Japan, Korea and China are more than a hundred feet tall. Fortunately, maidenhair tree grows slowly enough to stay proportionate to compact urban gardens for many decades.
Maidenhair trees develop the best yellow fall color.
Contrary to popular belief, good autumn foliar color, or ‘fall color’, is possible on the West Coast. Mild weather only limits the options for trees, shrubs, vines and perennials that color well. Besides, autumn foliar color simply is not a popular priority in western gardening.
Boston ivy must be the best climbing vine for color in autumn. Unfortunately, it is too aggressive for refined urban gardens, and clings with ‘holdfast discs’ that damage the surfaces that it climbs. It is better for freeway soundwalls and interchanges. Grapevine is a more docile option, and also produces grapes, but most cultivars (cultivated varieties) are not too remarkably colorful. Wisteria can turn an appealing shade of soft yellow where well exposed, but its best asset is still the colorful and fragrant bloom in spring.
Eastern redbud, crape myrtle, smoke tree and currant are some of the better shrubbery for autumn foliar color. Of these, Eastern redbud develops the most subdued shade of yellow; and crape myrtle develops the most brilliant shades of yellow, orange and red. Both are incidentally considered to be small trees. Smoke trees that have purplish foliage in summer are typically less colorful in autumn than those with green summer foliage. Some of the Japanese maple trees that display good color in autumn are smaller than some of the larger shrubbery.
The North American and European maples that are so colorful where autumn weather is cooler are not so impressive here. Even if the color is good, the foliage does not linger very long, but instead falls as soon as the weather gets breezy or rainy. Silver maple and box elder (which is actually a maple) which are so pretty and green through summer can actually look rather dingy as they yellow for autumn. Fruitless mulberry, tulip tree, black walnut and the various poplars and locusts can color well if the weather is just so, but display only bright yellow without orange or red. Maidenhair tree impresses with the same limited color range only because it is so reliable, and the yellow color is so very brilliant.
Really, the best trees for autumn foliar color are still sweetgum, Chinese pistache and flowering pear. They do not need much cool weather to display impressively brilliant blends of yellow, orange and red. Where the messy fruiting structures (maces) and aggressive roots are not likely to be a problem, sweetgum is a tall and elegant shade tree. Sweetgum trees innately hold their colorful foliage well, and some sheltered trees sometimes hold their foliage through most of winter. Chinese pistache is neither as messy nor as aggressive as sweetgum is, as it forms a broad and low canopy that is likely to need pruning for adequate clearance. It is becoming more popular as a street tree in many municipalities. Flowering pear is perhaps the most cooperative of the three if pruned to improve structural integrity while young, but stays smaller than the others. It is actually quite proportionate to smaller gardens of modern homes.
The article that I wanted to recycle was already recycled on my other blog, Felton League. It really did conform to the HorridCulture meme for Wednesday. This article was a predesor to that article, which can be seen at; https://tonytomeo.com/2018/11/07/horridculture-blame/
What a surprise. There was none when I went in to use the computer as the sun came up into a clear blue sky this morning. When I came outside just a few hours later, it was everywhere. It was so thick and so aromatic that it was obviously very close, but it did not smell like it was in the ponderosa pines around Scott’s Valley where I happened to be at the time. Once I got on the road back to Felton, I could see that besides the monochromatic ambient smoke that obscured the surrounding hills, a prominent and much thicker brown cloud of smoke hovered low over the San Lorenzo Valley. The smoke was even thicker in Felton, and obscures the range to the west where Bonny Doon is. As I write this in Felton Covered Bridge Park, ash is falling onto the computer screen. The fire has…
Most red berries that provide color and attract birds through late autumn and winter grow on shrubbery. Berries of English hawthorn, Crataegus laevigata, grow on trees. They are not big trees, but they are distinguished. Mature trees might get no taller than twenty feet, but their furrowed trunks with weathered bark resemble those of older and statelier trees.
Trusses of small white flowers that bloom in spring are comparable to those of pear. Like pear bloom, they emit a potentially objectionable musky fragrance. Modern cultivars that bloom with pink, double pink or double red flowers are less fragrant. English hawthorn is uncommon locally. The few cultivars that produce yellow or orange berries might be rare.
The deciduous leaves of English hawthorn are only about an inch or two long and wide. They are deeply lobed, with a handsomely coarse texture. Foliage can turn rusty orange or brownish yellow for autumn. Defoliation exposes any remaining berries, at least until the birds finish with them too. Thorns are unfortunately unavoidable.