For urban areas, the first rain of the season is typically icky. It mixes with all the crud and filth that has accumulated since the last rinsing rain of the previous spring. Damp roads smell like a mix of automotive fluids and wet tires. Asphalt roofs smell like tar. Even urban trees can initially smell like damp dust. It takes a while and a bit of rain for the crud and filth to rinse away.
This is the second rain of the season, and in a less than urban area. It does not smell objectionable, and is not notably cruddy. However, it still flows with an abundance of pollen that had not rinsed away already. Perhaps this pollen accumulated just since the previous rain, although not much has been blooming visibly at this time of year. It is impossible to say even what species dispersed so much pollen. Nonetheless, here it is, floating in the first few puddles to accumulate. Yuck!
It is no wonder that pollen is as effective at pollination as it is. It is impressively abundant and permeating. It is also no wonder that it is such a pervasive problem for those who are allergic to it.
Floral color communicates to pollinators. Pollination is, after all, the priority of all flowers. Those that rely on pollinators more than breezes for pollination must therefore advertise. They effectively customize their bloom for preferable pollinators. Some incorporate floral fragrance if necessary. Most preferable pollinators are insects. Some are hummingbirds.
Seven species of hummingbird inhabit California. Some are always here. Some migrate south for winter. A few are only here while they migrate between farther south and farther north. All eat only small insects and floral nectar. Blooms which rely on hummingbirds for pollination are happy to provide. They have a mutually beneficial symbiotic relationship.
Many plant species have customized their bloom for pollination by hummingbirds. Many of these flowers are elongated, tubular and curved to fit the long beaks of hummingbirds. Most, although not all, are bright and rich colors that hummingbirds prefer. Bright red and orange are probably their favorite colors. Floral fragrances are more for other pollinators.
Many who enjoy gardening enjoy hummingbirds within their gardens. Hummingbirds are as colorful as some small flowers, but are much more dynamic. They enjoy hummingbird feeders and birdbaths or simple saucers of water. They also appreciate the various sorts of flowers that appeal specifically to them. Such flowers can appeal to everyone anyway.
Hummingbirds enjoy too many flowers to list. Those that customize their blooms for them will be expecting them. Many that customize their blooms for other pollinators can attract them anyway. Zinnia, coneflower and most composite flowers are ideal for pollination by bees. Many of their bright floral colors that attract bees entice hummingbirds incidentally.
Columbine and nasturtium are more customized for hummingbirds. Penstemon, foxglove and various trumpet vines accommodate a range of pollinators. Honeysuckle, lupine and sages do too, but seem to fit thin hummingbird beaks best. Bright floral color of hibiscus, fuchsia, canna and bottlebrush are impossible to ignore. Indiscriminate taste is an asset.
Flowers of all fruit need pollination for fruit to develop. Most are self pollinating. Some require pollination from another variety. Some are dioecious, so female flowers need pollination from male flowers. A few, such as figs and muscadines, are even more complicated, but they are topics for another article. For now, I am concerned with my female kiwi vine, which is growing like a weed, but would have been unable to produce any fruit without a male pollinator. It was not a planned acquisition. I grew it from cuttings from a bit of vine scrap that someone brought to dump in the debris piles here. Because it grew so well, I requested some male vine scrap from the same person who provided the female vine scrap. Obviously, since he grows the female vine in his home garden, he also grows a male vine to provide pollen. I wanted the scrap while it was dormant through winter, because that is when I prefer to start hardwood cuttings. By the end of winter, I figured that it was too late to start cuttings, and that I would need to wait to try next winter. Then, just a few days ago, the person who provided the female vine scrap brought me a small piece of the male vine, which was already foliated and growing! This presents a challenge, since I lack access to a greenhouse with bottom heat and mist. I cut the stem into five cuttings. Three have single axillary buds that are still dormant. Two are vascularly active terminal cuttings, which are merely short shoots that grew from two axillary buds that are still attached. All but the smallest leaves were removed from the terminal cuttings. So far, they seem happy under a jar. Now, I can only watch and wait.
Aspidistra elatior, cast iron plant, is a foliar perennial. In other words, it is grown more for its lush and famously resilient evergreen foliage than for its bloom. The resiliency of its foliage accounts for its common name. Its bloom does not account for much. In fact, it is rarely seen. This is not because it is rare, but because it is not much to see. Such bloom is typically obscured by the lush evergreen foliage. Even if exposed, as in these pictures, it is not prominent. Individual flowers are tiny and dark, and do not extend much above grade. They seem to be designed for pollination by ants or other insects that might walk over them on the ground. In the picture above, one flower is blooming to the far left, another is beginning to bloom to the far right, and a third floral bud seems to be developing below that which is is beginning to bloom to the far right. Even the closeup of the far left bloom below is more weird than visually appealing. The floral form, texture and color suggest that they are intended to attract flies. I did not notice if the floral fragrance was consistent with that assumption, nor do I want to. I know what sort of fragrances flowers disperse to attract flies. However, I suspect that if such floral fragrance were notably objectionable, cast iron plant would be known for sometimes producing it, or not be quite as popular as it is.
Jamaican allspice, Pimenta dioica, is rare here. I am beginning to learn why. Because it is tropical, it is vulnerable to even very minor frost. Actually, it is not so keen on chill either. It is rated for climates that are no cooler in winter than Zone 10. This is Zone 9. It seems to grow reasonably well in the Los Angeles region, where I collected my cuttings from Brent’s Jungalow Garden, but it is rare there also. That could be because it is not much to look at. Its foliage is no more interesting visually than that of common privet. Although the foliage is splendidly aromatic, only those who are familiar with the species, or become acquainted with its aroma while pruning it, would know. Its bloom is neither prominently colorful nor fragrant. What is worse is that the bloom is dioecious, with male or female flowers on different specimens. Single specimens have no problem blooming, but can not produce allspice fruits without a mate. Single male specimens are fruitless for obvious reasons. Single female specimens are fruitless without pollination. Not many people who grow the very rare single specimens are aware of this, although most are satisfied with the delightfully aromatic foliage. New specimens only very rarely become available in nurseries, and when they do, all of them were likely grown from the same stock specimen, so are genetically identical and of the same gender. Only seed grown specimens are random in regard to their respective genders, and even among them, their genders are unknown until they eventually bloom. The potential for growing both genders is proportionate to the number of seedlings. For example, one seedling will be of one gender. Two seedlings are as likely to be of the same gender as they are to be of different genders. Three are more likely to include one of another gender. Several or many are proportionately less likely to be of the same gender. All of my several cuttings were from the same specimen, so would have been genetically identical. It does not matter much now anyway, since only one survived, and even it is still rather wimpy. It has developed only two new leaves, and retains a trimmed portion of one of its original leaves. I am pleased with it regardless of its gender, and will be satisfied with only its aromatic foliage.
It is much too early to distinguish gender of these carob seedlings.
Phoenix dactylifera, common date palm supposedly became more popular than Phoenix canariensis, Canary Island date palm during the 1990s for two primary reasons. Firstly, it is less susceptible to pink rot that was killing so many Canary Island date palms at that time, and continues to do so. Secondly, mature specimens became so readily available as their orchards were being displaced by urban development, particularly around Las Vegas and Palm Springs. Of course, fruiting date palms would have been too messy for the urban landscapes that they were recycled into. So, to prevent such mess, only female trees were recycled for such landscapes. Without their male pollinators, they are fruitless. Female trees are generally shorter, more lushly foliated, and therefore more appropriate to refined landscapes anyway. Besides, all but between one and five percent of trees in date orchards are female. Male trees were not completely wasted though. Although not as lush, they are taller and statelier, so were recycled to landscape remote desert highway interchanges, where their pollen does not reach female date palms that now inhabit more urban landscapes. It all works out well, although contrary to the original purpose of the date palms involved. It would seem silly to separate genders of most familiar dioecious species, such as kiwifruits and hollies. However, only female carob trees are available from nurseries nowadays because they would be messy with pollination, and also because male floral fragrance is horrid! Male carob trees are only available for agricultural purposes, or grow as feral males from seed. The problem that I will eventually encounter with my carob trees is that I grew them from seed, and will not know what their genders are until they are a few years old. I want a female specimen in a specific location, and a male pollinator in another specific location. I think that I will put three seedlings in each location, select one that matures to be the preferred gender for its particular location, and eliminate the other two. Alternatively, I could allow two genders to grow together in such a manner than the male grafts to the female to become a branch that I could prune to be a small but necessary portion of the collective canopy. Of course, there is a possibility that all within each group of three could be the wrong gender. I will not know until a few years from now.
Yucca whipplei seed is likely more rare in cultivation than in the wild.
Yucca whipplei, which is now known as Hesperoyucca whipplei, should not be so difficult to procure. It is the most common species of the genus within the next few hundred miles south of here, and was quite common in the hills around San Luis Obispo, where Brent and I studied horticulture at California Polytechnic State University (Cal Poly). I should have taken pups from wild specimens within the region, but I know of no one with wild specimens within their gardens. I can only see them from a distance, and, although within view, they are far enough away to necessitate quite a hike to get to. I never bothered to procure pups from specimens that I encounter directly in the Santa Monica Mountains north of Beverly Hills because they might be a different variety, or related to such a variety. Contrary to dramatic bloom, seed of the species is supposedly rare because the larvae of its very specialized pollinating moth devour almost all of the seed that develops from successful pollination. (The moth pollinates a flower only to provide seed for its larvae to eat.) Seed should be even more rare here because the specialized pollinating moth has no business so far from the natural range of its sustaining species. Somehow, a specimen that bloomed at work produced these few seed capsules. Someone else besides the specialized pollinating moth apparently took interest in its bloom. Although I have no idea what variety of Yucca whipplei the particular specimen is, I am pleased with the seed, and will try to grow them if they are viable when their capsules dry. (I hope that removal from their deteriorating stalk does not compromise their development.) Furthermore, I will get at least one pup from the original parent now that it will generate a litter after its monocarpic bloom. It is likely the variety that I want and am most familiar with anyway, because that particular variety happens to be the most common. Of course, I will procure a pup from a wild specimen within the region of San Luis Obispo if I ever get the opportunity to do so, just in case it is any different from what is growing and now blooming here.
Sambucus nigra ‘Black Lace’ can produce a few berries without pollination from another cultivar.
The internet never ceases to amaze with its inefficiency of providing information that should be more readily available. Old fashioned horticultural texts and even encyclopedias were more reliable. I remember reading that elderberry could be self pollinating, but that it would be more productive with another cultivar of the same species. Because I could not remember what species of the genus that information was relevant to, I more recently tried to determine the requirements of each of the few species that I grow. Ultimately, it seems to me that all are about the same in regard to both their ability to self pollinate to a minimal degree, and their ability to pollinate more efficiently with other cultivars. However, I still do not know. Furthermore, I am now confused about the identity of American elderberry, which many sources insist is merely a variety of common black elderberry of Europe.
Sambucus caerulea, blue elderberry is native and too common for me to know or care if it is more productive with other genetically distinct specimens, which, since the species lacks cultivars, are merely other wild specimens. In other words, blue elderberry specimens here can not be adequately isolated from other specimens to determine how reliant they are on others for pollination. Regardless, I will grow about four together within my garden.
Sambucus racemosa, red elderberry is supposedly native here, but I have never seen it in the wild. Consequently, I do not know if other specimens are close enough to pollinate specimens within my garden. Rather than experiment with single and potentially isolated specimens, and because there is no need to separate the four specimens here anyway, I will grow all of them together within my garden. I am considering adding ‘Sutherland Gold’ or other ornamental cultivars in the future.
Sambucus canadensis, American elderberry is not native, so could be grown in isolation here. However, I want berries more than I want to know how reliant this species is on pollination from other genetically distinct specimens. Before I grow cultivars, I will grow about four specimens within my garden from seed. I might consider cultivars in the future, but for now, would prefer to grow them as most people within their native range experience them, and as I grow blue and red elderberries.
Sambucus nigra, black elderberry is a species that I find to be less interesting than the three North American species that I actually want to grow. However, I have grown ‘Black Lace’ at work for a few years, and recently got it ‘Madonna’ as a pollinator so that the two can make berries together. Because I grew several more copies of each than we can accommodate at work, I will likely grow a pair of each within my own garden. Both are ornamental cultivars that happen to also produce berries. However, formerly without a pollinator, ‘Black Lace’ has been fruitless. This year, one of the copies managed to make these few berries in the picture above without bloom from ‘Madonna’. I suppose that this is consistent with what I read about its ability to self pollinate somewhat. Now, I want to see what it does next year if ‘Madonna’ blooms well.
Four wild seed grown specimens of Sambucus racemosa, red elderberry that were a gift from Tangly Cottage Gardening have been canned for too long, and want to get into the garden.
Sambucus nigra ‘Black Lace’ European black elderberry
1984 was four decades ago. This is happening right now. Sambucus nigra ‘Black Lace’ European black elderberry, with intricately lacy and richly bronzed foliage, and flaring upright form, has inhabited one of the landscapes here for a few years. I was initially not so keen on it, but eventually learned to appreciate it as others who saw it expressed fondness for its distinctive texture and color. It was so popular that I grew a few too many copies from pruning scraps two winters ago, with the intention of adding a few more to other landscapes. I plugged a few more last winter, as if I did not know better. Several were shared with neighbors, but so far, only one was added to another landscape here, and only a few days ago. It may not look like much in the picture above, but should be a bit bigger and more richly bronzed next year. Sambucus nigra ‘Madonna’ European black elderberry, with simpler and yellowish variegated foliage, and somewhat more rounded form, was a more recent acquisition. Although I am not so keen on its yellowish color, it happened to become available while I was considering acquisition of a pollinator for ‘Black Lace’, which has not produced berries yet. Although each can self pollinate somewhat, different cultivars pollinate each other more effectively. Doves enjoy the resulting berries; and people enjoy seeing happy doves. The original specimen of ‘Madonna’ was thrashed when I acquired it, but provided more than sixteen rooted side shoot copies before going to live in a colleague’s garden. The first of these copies was installed adjacent to and in conjunction with the first copy of ‘Black Lace’. It may not look like much in the picture below, but it is just a dinky copy from a four inch pot.
Sambucus nigra ‘Madonna’ European black elderberry
Flowers bloom for pollination. It is that simple. Most rely on wind to disperse their pollen. They are more abundant than colorful or fragrant. More prominently colorful and fragrant flowers rely on pollinators. Their color and fragrance attract preferred pollinators, such as insects, birds or bats. Such flowers sustain their pollinators with nectar or surplus pollen.
More than pollinators appreciate their diligence. Almost everyone who enjoys gardening enjoys floral color and fragrance. Cultivation of naturally appealing bloom began several thousand years ago. Selection and breeding most likely began relatively soon afterward. Ultimately, during relatively modern history, hybridization began getting too complicated.
Pollinators were not a priority during such processes. Because most ornamental flowers produce no usable fruit, pollinators are unimportant. Because of extensive hybridization, many ornamental flowers are sterile anyway. Floral color, fragrance and various tangible attributes are more important. Modern bloom appeals more to people than to pollinators.
A few modern flowers now confound their original pollinators. Some types of insects can die of exhaustion while trying to ascertain them. These insects may recognize floral color or fragrance but not strange floral structure. A few modern flowers are too frilly for access. Some attract pollinators without providing enough nectar or extra pollen to sustain them.
Several exotic flowers with less or no breeding distract pollinators with their abundance. Lemon bottlebrush blooms very abundantly and is still common within some landscapes. Blue gum eucalyptus is naturalized in parts of California. Both attract monarch butterflies that native species rely on. Native ceanothus must instead rely more on other pollinators.
Furthermore, a few pollinators actually disrupt native ecosystems. Honey bees, although very important to local agriculture, are not native. They arrived in San Jose in 1853, from where they dispersed throughout the West. It is now impossible to assess their influence. Even seemingly beneficial influence is unnatural and therefore ecologically detrimental.
Tony Tomeo 