This is recycled from last year, and was intended for a Saturday.
Feverfew
Historical herbal applications were the origin of its now silly name. Feverfew, Tanacetum parthenium, is a relative of chamomile. Its leaves are useful for herbal tea like floral buds of chamomile. Feverfew is delightfully aromatic, although some may disagree about how delightful it is. Some believe that it can repel unwanted insects, but may also repel bees.
Feverfew is likely more popular for its floral display than its aromatic foliage. Its abundant small composite blooms are very similar to those of chamomile. They are nearly as wide as three quarters of an inch. Their yellow centers are a bit flatter. Their ray florets (petals) are a bit wider. They bloom on open trusses that hover loosely above their basal foliage.
Feverfew has lime green foliage with a fine texture. It can stand almost two feet high with bloom standing a bit higher. It migrates slowly, but can slowly get where it should not be. Pruning scraps can root as cuttings. Feverfew prefers rich soil but does not need it. Good sun exposure and even watering are more important. ‘Aureum’ is bright greenish yellow.
Botanical Names Should Simplify Horticulture
Botanical names of the vegetation that home gardening involves may seem complicated. Some are difficult to pronounce or spell. A few seem to be as lengthy as sentences. They seem to be a foreign language because most are Latin. Some are Greek. However, they are more valid than common names. What is common here might be uncommon abroad.
For example, Acer pseudoplatanus is a type of maple here in North America. However, it is a type of sycamore in England. Its common name is regionally inconsistent, so can be confusing. Its botanical name, though, is the same everywhere. Incidentally, Acer is Latin for “maple”. Pseudoplatanus is Latin for “false sycamore”. Technically, it truly is a maple.
Technically though, only a few cedars are truly cedars. Both deodar and blue Atlas cedar are species of Cedrus, which is Latin for “cedar”. However, incense cedar is a species of Calocedrus, which is a separate genus. Western and northern red cedars are species of Thuja, which is arborvitae. Again, botanical names are more valid than common names.
Nomenclature is a standardized application of names. Simple botanical nomenclature is binomial, which indicates that it involves two names. The first is the “general” or “genus” name, which is capitalized. The second is the “specific” or “species” name, which is not capitalized. Both are italicized. Species is singular and plural. Genera is plural of genus.
Botanical names are actually very similar to automotive names. Only italicization and the lack of capitalization of the species are different. Buick, Chrysler and Mercury are all like genera. Electra, Imperial and Grand Marquis are all like species. Sequoia sempervirens uses the same binomial format as Buick Electra. Botanical names really are that simple.
Many automotive species include variants, such as Limited, Custom and LSE. These are like varieties or cultivars of plant species. Such variants are evident by single quotes, but lack italicization. For example, ‘Soquel’ is the cultivar of Sequoia sempervirens ‘Soquel’. (‘Cultivars’ are ‘cult’ivated ‘var’ieties that are true to type only by vegetative propagation. Varieties can be naturally true to type by seed.)
Locusts!
Well, not exactly locusts; although, until they were reclassified within the Order Mantodea, they were of the same Order Orthoptera as locusts. Nor are they affiliated with either honey locust, Gleditsia triacanthos that I wrote about for last Tuesday, or carob, Ceratonia siliqua that I wrote about for the previous Tuesday, and which is the sort of locust that sustained John the Baptist in the desert. These abundant critters are young mantises, which likely hatched shortly before posing for this picture that my niece took on her front porch. My niece had seen a slow moving adult mantis there last autumn, and guessed that it might have deposited eggs, and then later died in privacy. Fortunately, she enjoys all sorts of flora and fauna, and was not too disturbed by this scene, or by the mother last autumn, as even some who work outside might have been. In fact, to the contrary, she was pleased that their mother felt that her porch was safe enough for them to start their lives on. She knows that there are plenty of insects for them to eat within the vegetation that inhabits the landscape there, as well as in nearby landscapes. This many mantises will eventually disperse into the neighborhood to satisfy their voracious appetites as they grow. That is why mantis eggs are available for sale from some nurseries. They are beneficially predatory insects because they consume detrimental insects. Since their arrival, my niece did a bit of research on their sort, and found that some people actually raise certain rare varieties of mantises as pets. As weird as it seems, it is no weirder than pet tarantulas. Anyway, this picture was taken more than a week ago. These baby mantises are likely already growing fast and dispersing elsewhere into Los Angeles.
Road to Nowhere
Music videos were so artistic in the 1980s. Some of them said as much as their associated music. The Talking Heads composed a music video for Road to Nowhere that, although it seems ridiculous now, was captivating at the time. It seemed to be about how life is dynamic with deviations from that which is expected. To me, it also seemed to be about enjoyment of being here now, or perhaps, there then. After all, it was filmed near Hi Vista in 1985, far away and long ago.
I did not experience Hi Vista in 1985, but did manage to get to Littlerock in about 1987, about two years later and thirty miles to the southwest. I am glad to have seen the region then. It has changed so much that I sort of hope to never see it again. Although I do not intend to avoid it if there is ever any reason for me to return, I would prefer to remember it how it was about thirty-seven years ago. There are plenty of other scenic regions of the Mojave Desert to tour.
While in the region, I noticed that a few interchanges on the highways that we drove on were more substantial than the highways were. They were proportionate to the urban development that was expected for the region. The portions of the highways between the interchanges were upgraded later, which is now a long time ago. So much of what I remember as rural is now suburban or urban.
That is what this landscape reminded me of. It is near my formerly rural home south of San Luis Obispo, where I lived while in college. Although this parking lot was here before I was, it has since been renovated. The area beyond was merely pasture occupied by cattle. This long and prominent crosswalk crosses the parking lot as if going somewhere important, only to terminate at this empty landing, which is surrounded by ceanothus. It certainly looks odd. Obviously, the walkway is intended to continue in some form into development that is planned for the adjacent site. I had not been here in about thirty-four years, so should not be surprised by such changes. Perhaps I am no more surprised than I am amused by this landscape and its associated road to nowhere.
Six on Saturday: &
Odds & ends. Bits & pieces. Rhythm & blues. That is all I got here. The latter might make sense with #4 below. It makes this no easier for me though. I have difficulty writing with characters such as “&”, and even “#”, although I do use “#” when necessary to describe a caption number or can size as for #6 below. Perhaps I should challenge my comfort zone a bit more, as I did when I tried using contractions a few months ago. Although I did not continue using them afterward, it was not nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. At least I now realize that I could do so if I choose to. I simply choose to not do so. In other simpler words, I could, but I don’t.
1. Carson, Rhody’s Roady, posed for this thumbnail illustration for a recent article about how similar binomial botanical nomenclature is to traditional automotive nomenclature.
2. Purchases are almost against the rules in my garden. They can only involve items that I lack access to. This purchase that was delivered by mail apparently needed ventilation.
3. Someone who does not take compliments well diverted this one to me. No one knows what seed it contains, but I suppose that we will find out when it grows after next winter.
4. Salvia guaranitica ‘Rhythm & Blues’ came as a cutting in a red Solo cup with the pack of unidentified wildflower seed. This is why I abide by my rule that disallows purchases.
5. Saccharum officinarum ‘Pele’s Smoke’ sugarcane provided more cuttings than I knew what to do with. Fortunately, most succumbed to frost. I can accommodate these fifteen.
6. However, they are merely the fifteen best specimens that were big enough for #1 cans. At least as many smaller cuttings that got separated from them still need four inch pots.
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/
Crassula tetragona
Although the narrow and pointed inch long leaves of Crassula tetragona (which lacks a common name) are not at all similar to the plump rounded leaves of the closely related but much more common jade plant, it is much more similar to jade plant than it appears to be. Both enjoy sunlight but will take a bit of shade. Both can be damaged by extreme exposure (reflected glare and heat), as well as the opposite extreme, frost. Their succulent stems are so easy to root as cuttings, that rather substantial pieces that may need to be pruned off can be stuck into the soil as instant new plants. Even leaves of these and various other specie of Crassula can be rooted as very small cuttings. Besides its distinctive foliage, Crassula tetragona differs from jade plant only because it is limited to about a foot and a half high and wide, and blooms with unremarkable white flowers instead of more prominent flower trusses.
Volunteering at the San Jose Heritage Rose Garden
(This article is recycled from several years ago, so information about events is now outdated.)
No matter how careful I am to avoid spending any money at Spring in Guadalupe Gardens, I have never escaped without purchasing something, or a few or even several somethings that I did not need but really wanted for my garden. My plunder was relatively meager this year, but did include three climbing roses from Liggett’s Rose Nursery.
One is a ‘Renae’ rose that blooms all summer with remarkably fragrant pale pink blooms. Its fragrance is so obnoxiously strong though; that I gave the plant to my neighbor, and told him that it ‘smells good’. It really does smell good, albeit from a distance, such as in my garden.
The other two roses are ‘Lamarque’, with abundant fluffy white blossoms all summer. The robust fragrance is fortunately more tolerable. I really like the monstrous canes that are already reaching out to cover a bare embankment.
The two ‘Lamarque’ roses are manageable so far. I really do not know how manageable they will be next year though. It would be nice if they could go wild, and only get pruned as they encroach into trees and the driveway. However, roses perform best if properly maintained. I will want to be able to prune off deteriorating flowers to promote subsequent bloom. This process of ‘dead heading’ will not be so easy if I can not reach all the canes.
The Heritage Rose Garden has a similar challenge. Although most of the plants are within reach of anyone wanting to prune them, there are simply too many plants for a herd of goats to remove all the spent blooms from. Since goats are not such a feasible option in a rose garden, volunteers are invited to attend a Rose Deadheading Blitz from 5:00 to 7:30 p.m. every second Tuesday of each month, beginning June 8 and continuing until September 7.
No experience is needed, either for deadheading the roses or for swilling the ice cream served afterward. Volunteers should bring shears and gloves, and wear closed-toe shoes. Shears are available from the staff if necessary.
The Heritage Rose Garden is located on Taylor Street at Spring Street, just east of Coleman Avenue in San Jose. Volunteers can get more information or sign up by contacting Volunteer Coordinator, Lucy Perez by telephone at 298 7657 or by email at lperez@grpg.org.
My bounty from Spring in Guadalupe Gardens of past years includes many succulents, particularly a few specie of Crassula that were frozen by frost early last winter. Their recovery has been delayed by the lingering cool and rainy weather through spring. Now that I am removing the last of the sludge that remains from the previously frozen leaves and stems, I am finding where snails have been hiding and breeding. Even though the sludge is harmless, the snails within are not. I probably should have cleaned it out earlier.
Foliage of fruit trees, roses or other plants that has been infected with peach leaf curl, powdery mildew or any other disease should likewise be removed and disposed of. Either next spring or later this year, secondary infection is much more likely without sanitation.
Six on Saturday: Return To Work
This is recycled from last year, and was intended for a Saturday.
Honey Locust
Within its native range, wild thorny honey locust, Gleditsia triacanthos, is a nasty tree! Its wicked thorns are typically as long as four inches but can be twice as long. Some branch into many thorns or thick clusters of thorns. Thickets of many trees can be impenetrable. Female trees produce a messy abundance of brown pods that are about half a foot long.
Fortunately, its cultivars are much more docile. Most are exclusively male, so produce no pods. Old fashioned cultivars that might produce pods as they mature are now rare. More importantly, cultivars are thornless. That is why their common name is now honey locust rather than thorny honey locust. They are as remarkably resilient as the simpler species.
Most cultivars of honey locust grow no taller or wider than fifty feet here. Some grow only half as tall. Some of the more popular cultivars are brightly yellowish green for spring. At least one is ruddy bronze for spring. The finely textured foliage provides dappled shade. Leaves are pinnately and bipinnately compound, and turn yellow for autumn defoliation. Individual leaflets are less than an inch long, so can be difficult to rake.
Tony Tomeo 