The soft pastel shades of these tulips brighten this somewhat shady landscape.
The mild winters that are so comfortable for us are not so desirable to tulip bulbs, which need to be chilled to perform as perennials. Consequently, they behave as brief season annuals locally. The most popular varieties have simple single flowers in white, yellow, pink, red, purple or pinkish orange. Double tulips are rather ruffled. Parrot tulips are larger and even more ruffled. As the names imply, lily-flowered tulips are shaped like small lilies, with pointy flared petals; and fringed tulips have finely serrate petals. Tulips stand between half a foot to two feet tall. Early types are already finished blooming. Late types, particularly if planted late, may bloom as late as early May.
This should have been done earlier. While most who participate in Six on Saturday have been posting pictures of early spring bloom, I have been posting less colorful pictures of dormant corms, their barely visible new spring growth, some windmill palm foliage and a sliced weirdly yellow beet. Some of the few flowers that I posted pictures of were oddly pallid, which was sort of why I thought they might be interesting. Now that I am posting floral pictures, early spring flowers are beginning to deteriorate. The first two are rather shabby. The third has not been quite right for a few months. I should have found fresher flowers.
1. Eucalyptus cinerea or pulverulenta, florist silver dollar got an identity crisis. I learned it as cinerea. I am now told that it is pulverulenta. Regardless of its name, bees enjoy it. We thought we added another tree of the same species nearby, but it is the other species.
2. Tecomaria capensis, cape honeysuckle really was prettier earlier. Its bloom is not too profuse, but it is distinctly orange. Goodness, I really should have taken a better picture.
3. Rosmarinus officinalis, rosemary is badly infested with mites, but blooms regardless. It is right across the road from the silver dollar, and just as popular with the honeybees.
4. Lavandula stoechas, Spanish lavender is the only lavender that self sows here. It does not become invasive though. Its bloom may be blue, pink, white or, obviously, lavender.
5. Tulbaghia violacea, society garlic is one of my least favorite of perennials. It stinks! It is not so much to look at either. It has been here for many years though, and will not die.
6. Grevillea rosmarinifolia, rosemary grevillea seems as popular with hummingbirds as rosemary and silver dollar is with bees. Hummingbirds are prettier than this odd bloom.
White is my favorite color. Do not argue with me about it. I do not need to hear that it is not truly a color or that it is the absence of color. Technically, it is either or both the complete absence of color or the complete saturation of all color. In that regard, it has either or both the same or opposite definition as black.
A prism demonstrates the colorfulness of white light by separating it into all other colors that it contains. Nothing is lacking.
Other colors can be mixed with a bit of white to become a tint, but retain their identity. They can be mixed with a bit of black to become a shade, but retain their identity. They can be mixed with other colors for various hues. Only white and black lose their identities with the addition of another color. No matter how pale, white becomes a tint of the additional color. No matter how dark, black becomes a shade of the additional color.
Pink is not really a color, but it is somehow more acceptable as such than white is. It is merely a tint of red. In other words, it is red with white.
Furthermore, brown is not really a color, but is somehow more acceptable as such than white is. It is merely a shade of orange. In other words, it is orange with black.
Gray is either or both a tint of black or a shade of white, but only if either or both black or white is considered to be the color that it is. Goodness, this is getting complicated.
Ultimately, such analysis is irrelevant to my predilection for white. Brent says that I am a white supremacist. That is rude. I just know that my favorite color is white.
Some flowers are blooming strangely this year. Well actually, one bloomed strangely last year, and is now blooming normally. Flowers that prefer more winter chill than they can experience here are blooming quite nicely this year, even after less frost than last winter. I can neither make sense of it all, nor complain about it. I mean, it may be strange, but it is strange in a good way. We added a windmill palm that I mentioned two weeks ago to a landscape. I like palms, especially this palm, but I am not sure that I like them here with the redwoods. Palms are strange with redwoods.
1. Trachycarpus fortunei, windmill palm is strange because it is one of only three palms here. Palms and redwoods should not mix. It remains canned, so will be removed as the unseen angel’s trumpet behind it grows. I featured it two weeks ago, before it came here.
2. Hyacinthus orientalis, hyacinth is not so strange either, but it performs strangely well and reliably with only minor chill. Several have been blooming like this for several years.
3. Bergenia crassifolia, pig squeak is blooming strangely late with a strangely light pink floral color. Otherwise, it blooms a bit better now that a sycamore that shaded it is gone.
4. Ribes sanguineum, red currant is blooming with a strangely light pink floral color too. It is not much more than white, but is not white. All are this same strangely pallid color.
5. Brugmansia X cubensis ‘Charles Grimaldi’ angel’s trumpet did just the opposite. After blooming strangely pallid peachy orange since spring, it now blooms yellow as it should.
6. Helleborus orientalis, Lenten rose is blooming strangely well this year. Typically, only a few bloom like this. Now, many are. This is one of a uniform colony that is likely feral.
White is my favorite color. I sometimes post six pictures of exclusively white flowers for Six on Saturday. Also, I posted six pictures of exclusively red flowers merely to show that I could. I might have tried other colors as well. I do not remember trying yellow though. California bay gave me the idea, although its bloom is rather unimpressive. Silver wattle is much more colorful. So is daffodil. Dandelion is merely a weed; but technically, silver wattle is also. Ultimately, I got four pictures of yellow flowers, a picture of an aberrative beet, and a picture of someone who might qualify as golden retriever light gold, which at least sounds yellow. He can not see most colors anyway.
1. Acacia dealbata, silver wattle is an aggressively naturalized exotic species. It certainly is pretty though. It typically blooms earlier, and maybe by New Year’s Day farther south.
2. Umbellularia californica, California bay does not bloom as prettily. Its flowers are too tiny, too sporadic and too high in its canopy to be prominent, but it blooms nonetheless.
3. Taraxacum officinale, dandelion, like silver wattle, is also an aggressively naturalized exotic species. It infests most lawns, and blooms to toss its seed whenever it wants to.
4. Narcissus pseudonarcissus, daffodil continues to bloom. Several are still budded. If it were not so variable with its bloom schedule from year to year, I would say that it is late.
5. Beta vulgaris, beet should be red, not yellow. ‘Detroit Dark Red’ is best! This seems to taste about the same, but looks like a sick carrot! I loathe carrots! Why do this to a beet?
6. Rhody remains unimpressed. He is no more interested in beets than carrots. He could be more concerned about the first of a few storms that should arrive in only a few hours.
This is no ordinary daffodil. I realize that it looks just like the daffodils that I posted a picture of two Saturdays ago, and it could actually be the same variety, but it is quite distinct. I acquired this particular daffodil in about summer of 1986. It could have been a year or two earlier or later, and might not have been summer. The foliage was not completely shriveled as it should have been during summer, but it lasts longer in the coastal climate that I took it from. I really do not remember when I acquired it, but I know that it was a long time ago, about the summer of 1986.
Although we have not been acquainted for as long as I have been acquainted with my paternal paternal great grandfather’s rhubarb and my maternal maternal great grandmother’s Dalmatian iris, both of which I acquired prior to kindergarten, we have significant mutual history.
I ‘borrowed’ several large clumps of bulbs from an abandoned flower field to the east of my Pa’s home in Montara. The clumps were very overgrown and very crowded, but still in their original rows, as they had been arranged for cut flower production many years prior. Shortly afterward, all of the other bulbs were somehow and seemingly pointlessly removed from the field by an excavator. A monster home was built on the highest part of the field, with a view of the field, which remained completely uncultivated afterward. No one knows how or why all the daffodil bulbs were removed so completely, but none were ever seen again. The naturalized field of daffodils seemed like it would have been an attribute to the home.
Over many years, the bulbs grew at most of the homes that I lived in, until the last few years, after I left the last of them at a former home in town. Then, after bringing a few roses here from my old rose garden at a previous home, I noticed that a few bulbs came with them. I thought that they were fancier daffodils, but now that this one bloomed, it is obvious that they are the familiar daffodils from Montara.
‘Yuletide’ Camellia sasanqua should bloom for Christmas, as the name implies. It typically does. However, it sometimes blooms early or late. It might be slightly late this year, but has been blooming for quite a while, and was beginning to bloom by Christmas.
It certainly is a delightful red. It seems to me that it can be slightly more reddish, with less of a pink influence, in some situations. Perhaps the bright yellow of the staminate centers cause it to appear as such within certain weather conditions or sunlight exposures. This particular flower may seem to be slightly pinkish as a result of distress. The hedge that it bloomed on had been infested with red spider mite earlier.
This particular cultivar of Camellia sasanqua develops distinctly upright and perhaps ovoid form, and can get quite tall. Most other cultivars develop more irregular or sprawling form, with long and limber stems, and relatively short stature.
I am impressed that this bloom is so resilient to wintry weather. Although much of the foliage is under a wide eave, most of the bloom is not under the eave, so has been exposed to both rain and frost. Apparently, Camellia sasanqua bloom is resilient to frost that is colder than it gets here. Camellia flower blight is common regionally, but mysteriously does not damage many flowers within the landscapes here. White and light pink Camellia japonica flowers are more vulnerable, but even they bloom quite nicely here, with only a few flowers succumbing before they finish bloom, and generally as their cumulative bloom cycle is finishing anyway.
Deer eat any cultivar of any species of Camellia, but avoid camellias here more mysteriously than camellia flower blight. I do not remember ever encountering damage that was caused by deer; and there are many camellias here.
Except for flowers that bloom randomly throughout the year, most autumn bloom is done. Much of the formerly spectacular autumn foliar color succumbed to wintry rain and wind. Many colorful winter berries have already gone with migratory birds who consume them. Overwintering birds appreciate what lingers. Fortunately, some winter bloom continues.
Cool season annuals likely provide most winter flowers prior to spring. Ornamental kale generates a foliar display like a pastel version of summer coleus. Snowdrop bulbs bloom only white, but look sharp if other bloom is scarce. A few species contribute winter bloom merely because they lack regard for seasons. African daisy blooms whenever it wants to.
However, winter bloom is not comparable to spring bloom. That is an unfortunate reality. Most species that bloom randomly throughout the year bloom best for spring or summer. Most species that bloom specifically during winter are relatively subdued about doing so. Although pollinators are less active, competition for their pollination services is minimal.
Witch hazel is becoming more popular locally for its fragrant winter bloom on bare stems. Modern cultivars bloom with earthy tones of yellow, orange, red, and burgundy red. They prefer cool wintry weather though. Bloom may be inhibited somewhat within mild coastal climates. Winter jasmine bloom, although limited to only brilliant yellow, is more reliable.
Some species of Mahonia likewise bloom reliably but exclusively bright yellow. They are evergreen instead of deciduous. So is andromeda. Its pendulous ivory white or pale pink blooms are more striking in form than color. Daphne, which likely finished bloom already, is more striking in fragrance than color. Its light pink bloom is mostly obscured by foliage.
Camellias are among the most reliably colorful of winter bloom. Their floral color ranges through all hues between white and red. Floral form and abundance are notably diverse. Some bloom rather sparsely. Various cultivars bloom at various times throughout winter. Sasanqua camellias generally bloom earlier, with relatively smaller but profuse flowers. Camellias unfortunately lack fragrance.
The identities of the many different garden varieties are vague. Most are likely hybrids. A few might be simple species. Some that seem to be hybrids are really cultivars of simple species. Regardless, most flowering maples collectively qualify as Abutilon X hybridum. If all were hybrids, as their name implies, none would generate viable seed, as some do.
Flowering maple can grow somewhat fast, but tends to be lanky if it does so. It should be a bit fuller with slower growth or minor tip pruning. Several cultivars grow no higher than doorknobs, but others reach first floor eaves. Flowering maple demands regular watering and rich soil. It enjoys humid warmth, but may roast in arid heat with harsh sun exposure.
Bloom is sporadic from late spring until frost. The flowers resemble those of hibiscus, but are no more than three inches broad. Most are pastel tints of yellow, orange or pink, with prominently richer veining. Some are red, burgundy red or creamy white. The light green or variegated foliage may get a bit sparse through winter. Foliar lobes are quite variable, or lacking.
Flowers bloom throughout the year here. I featured bloom this week to avoid the topic of minor frost damage that I should have protected vulnerable foliage from. Frost is minor here, and does not occur every year, but it occurred here prior to some other regions this year. However, this bloom can imply that it is springtime.
1. Osteospermum X hybrida, African daisy should bloom most for spring, but can bloom randomly whenever it chooses, and often blooms most profusely for summer or autumn.
2. Helichrysum bracteatum, strawflower is my favorite of these six because I remember it as the main cut flower crop to the east of my Pa’s home in Montara through the 1980s.
3. Salvia chiapensis, Chiapas sage is a species that I had never met before last year. They grew well through last summer, and even better with more bloom through this summer.
4. Cestrum fasciculatum ‘Newellii’, bastard jasmine has an interesting name. Of course, it is not really jasmine. It recovered slowly from gopher damage, but blooms nicely now.
5. Rosa, carpet rose is my least favorite of these six because it is so cheap and common. I prefer old fashioned and respectable hybrid tea roses that are such excellent cut flowers.
6. Iris X germanica, bearded iris should bloom for spring. Reblooming types also bloom for autumn. I have no idea what this is, but I sort of doubt that it is a reblooming variety. Earlier, it did not bloom much, so now seems to be blooming late for the first phase this year, rather than blooming again for a second phase within the same year. Furthermore, its simple bloom and slim floral stalks suggest that it is not extensively bred. It might be a simple species that is confused about the seasons here, because this climate is so mild.
