The calender says that it is now autumn. The weather does not necessarily agree. Some of the trees are dropping their leaves. However, the leaves are not falling because the weather is getting significantly cooler. The leaves got cooked during that weird heat wave a few weeks ago. If the weather can be this confusing here in our very mild climate, it must be really crazy everywhere else.
It is hard to make sense of what trees are dropping leaves in response to the earlier heat. Coast live oak, which normally tolerates heat quite well, was really annoyed by the heat in some areas. Cottonwood and other poplars are expressing their discomfort too, but that is to be expected from them. Sycamores, which are normally sensitive to weather anomalies, are not overly concerned.
All this means to us, the janitors of our trees, is that some of us might be raking leaves earlier than expected. These leaves will not be the nice colorful sort that we like to see in autumn. Those will come later. It is still too early to know how the weather will affect autumn color. All we know so far is that some trees will have less foliage for coloring. Sweetgums are hinting at a colorful autumn.
Leaves should be raked as they fall. However, because no one wants to clean the eave gutters any more than necessary, they can be cleaned only a few times, or maybe only once if trees shed efficiently. They are easiest to clean before the rain starts and the wet leaves start to decay. Unfortunately, most deciduous trees continue to drop their leaves well into the rainiest part of winter.
Lawns and shallow or dense groundcovers really do not like to be shaded by fallen leaves for too long. To perform through winter like we expect them to do here in our mild climate, they want as much sunlight as they can get while the days are shorter and the sun is lower on the horizon. Besides, fungal pathogens like mildew and rot, are more likely to proliferate under damp fallen foliage.
Finely textured leaves under low shrubbery and coarsely textured groundcover that ‘eats’ fallen leaves is a nice mulch, so does not need to be raked. If it can not be seen, and is not too abundant, it is probably not a problem. The exceptions are fallen leaves of roses, grapes, cane berries, deciduous fruit trees, and any plants that are susceptible to diseases that overwinter in fallen leaves.
Somewhere in the San Lorenzo Valley, there is a little old lady who is stitching a blue quilt. It is made of all the blue ribbons that she wins every year at the Jelly and Jam Contest of the Santa Cruz Mountains Harvest Festival. I do not know who she is, but I recognize her squiggly writing on the fancy labels. It is barely legible. Her hands are worn and tired from three quarters of a century off picking fruit, processing it into jelly and jam, and then stitching all her blue ribbons together. She probably giggles as she works, and thinks about everyone who wins only red or white ribbons.
No one knows for certain who the parents were, so the hybrid Grevillea ‘Peaches and Cream’ lacks a species designation. (If it is important, the parent are most likely Grevillea banksii and Grevillea bipinnatifida.) It is an evergreen shrub that gets about four feet high and wide, with intricately lobed light green foliage. Individual leaves are about four inches long and two inches wide.
The nomenclature of horticulture, or the ‘naming’ of plants, is very similar to that of automobiles. All those confusing Latin names work just like the names of cars, with species, genus and even family. The Electra is made by Buick, which is a subsidiary of General Motors. I write an article about this every so often. It probably made more sense back many years ago, when both cars and plants were simpler.
There are certain things that we expect to find in a coffee shoppe. Mainly, we expect to find . . . coffee. Yes, coffee, . . . duh. We can get all sorts of coffee beverages; hot, chilled, steamed, infused with things that have no business going into coffee. They have all sorts of cool sounding but strangely irrelevant Italian names that white people enjoy telling people of Italian descent how to pronounce. Yes, my name is Tony Tomeo; and I don’t want twenty cups of coffee with bread. Well, besides the coffee beverages, there are plenty of coffee beans; all sorts of roasts. I do not know of any coffee shoppe that grows any of the beans that it sells, but there is nice coffee shoppe in Felton, The Mountain Roasting Company, that grows coffee trees.
Modern garden varieties of pampas grass found in nurseries are generally non-invasive. Their flowers are described as ‘sterile’, and therefore unable to produce seed. What that really means is that they are exclusively female, and unable to produce seed without male pollinators. However, they have the potential to be pollinated by naturalized pampas grass, and sow a few hybrid seed.
Things might have gone better for Cinderella if she had taken a Buick to the ball instead of that detrimentally punctual pumpkin coach. It was on such a tight schedule! It might have seemed like a good idea on the way too the ball. It certainly was a unique ride. The problem was that it made no accommodation for Cinderella’s tardiness at midnight. It adhered firmly to its own strict schedule.
This has very little to do with gardening; but like I said in the description of this blog, anything goes when it comes to the ‘Elaborations’ category. Anyway and furthermore, I do not like to write about garden sculpture, garden art, or any of those knick-knack fads that involve putting more than plants and the necessary infrastructure to sustain them into the garden. I do happen to like certain tasteful garden statuary, like Saint Francis, or Saint Fiacre (the rarely seen ‘real’ patron saint of gardening) or any of the saints; but only if I have a suitable space for them. This is nothing like that; but is just excellent enough that I wanted to mention it.
Brent and I met in college, when we were assigned to the same dorm room in Fremont Hall at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo. Our similarities were remarkable. He came two hundred miles north from west of Los Angeles. I came two hundred miles south from west of San Jose. We were both the middle of three children, although I had just acquired an extra younger sister the year before. While the other boys we grew up with were playing with Hot Wheels, Brent and I were busy planting miniature trees around the miniature roadways. His childhood dog was Speckles. Mine was Freckles. We were weirdly similar prior to September of 1986, but have been perfecting our differences since then.
