halloween frights

Happy Hal­loween to all of you!

Grow­ing up, Hal­loween was always my favorite of the hol­i­days. These were the years before every­one clois­tered their chil­dren into par­ties sur­rounded by armed guards, and after the years when the celi­brants really meant “trick or treat” when they said it–as in “give me some candy, oth­er­wise I’ll throw eggs on your cars.” Ah. Kindler, gen­tler times…

I have three lit­tle selec­tions to share with you today, ranked from mildy scary to dizzy­ingly horrifying.

Num­ber one: Scary.

Dracula vampira

(The image to the left from the Orchids in Our Trop­ics web store [ source ])

In my orchid-growing days I was fas­ci­nated by plants in the Pleu­rothal­lis alliance of neotrop­ics orchids, although I was never brave enough to try grow­ing any of them. Of the thirty or so gen­era in the alliance, one genus had a spec­tac­u­lar name so appro­pri­ate for today: Drac­ula!

And if that’s not wild enough, Carl Luer in 1978 described what is per­haps the most out­landish of the species in the genus. And what do you sup­pose this mad sci­en­tist picked for the species name? Vam­pira! (A mad sci­en­tist with a sense of humor–I like that!) Besides hav­ing a ter­rific name, Drac­ula vam­pira is one awe­some plant, some­thing this photo attests to. Most of the pleu­rothal­lids are small lit­tle won­ders, but the flow­ers on this one are eight inches top to bottom.

Scary, but intrigu­ingly beau­ti­ful at the same time.

Num­ber two: Scarier.
I know that I’ve shared this one bit of scari­ness with you before, but it con­tin­ues to scare me every time I see it.

Ugly house

Ugly house

Every neigh­bor­hood prob­a­bly has one of these, a house with a yard that looks like it’s audi­tion­ing for a part in a post-holocaust movie. Like, did the radi­a­tion from the bomb blast take out all the plants? To their credit, the home­own­ers do get points for cre­at­ing a yard that takes no water whatsoever–a bonus in our cur­rent drought. But there are so many bet­ter ways to save water and enhance the world you live in. Greg sug­gested that some­one seed­bomb this house in a bit of guer­rilla gar­den­ing, but how do you seed­bomb concrete?

I’m not a big fan of the new gen­er­a­tion of fake turf that’s going around these days. Although it’s light years beyond Astro­turf, it still looks like plas­tic from less than fif­teen feet away, and it does noth­ing to bat­tle the urban heat­ing phe­nom­e­non. At least it would begin to dress up this yard. And cur­rently the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Water Dis­trict of South­ern Cal­i­for­nia is offer­ing rebates of thirty cents per square foot of lawn that you replace with the plas­tic stuff. (At a cost of $12 a square foot for the fake turf, the rebate doesn’t go ter­ri­bly far…)

The water agen­cies are also offer­ing rebates on water-efficient sprin­kler heads, start­ing at $4.00 per head, which would pay for most of the unit, as well as rebates on weather-based sprin­kler timers. Check out the infor­ma­tion on the rebate pro­grams. One grouse I have with them is that there’s noth­ing that would give you a credit for replac­ing lawn with low-water-use plants that would also help keep the city cool by reduc­ing the amount of reflected solar energy that is con­verted to urban overheating.

Num­ber three: Scari­est.

I was in the back yard look­ing for the cat the other evening, round­ing her up for the evening indoors. She was being extra-coy that night, and I had to go for the flash­light. Return­ing to the gar­den, the flash­light beam high­lighted this atroc­ity less than two feet from my face: the dreaded tomato tobacco horn­worm! (Edit: Thanks to Jenny for cor­rect­ing my iden­ti­fi­ca­tion of this lit­tle terror.)

Tomato Hornworm

Tomato Horn­worm

Eek! I felt like Janet Leigh in the shower scene from Psy­cho, only I was bet­ter dressed at the moment.

This is a hor­ror than any gar­dener can empathize with, I’m sure, par­tic­u­larly when the tomato tobacco horn­worm is chomp­ing on the last pre­cious tomato plant of the sea­son. As much as I try to be kind to nature, I marched inside to get the Felco shears and did bat­tle with the beast.

(This photo is actu­ally of another worm I dis­cov­ered the next day. All sum­mer long there were no horn­worms. And then sud­denly, bam!, there were sev­eral, chomp­ing away on what may be the last tomato in the neighborhood.)

So…you decide. Was the tomato tobacco horn­worm the scari­est thing? Or was it the vile, mur­der­ous gar­dener who would com­mit unspeak­able acts with a pair of shears?

October 31 2008 04:07 am | Categories: gardeninglandscape designmy garden | Tags:

3 Responses to “halloween frights”

  1. Greg on 31 Oct 2008 at 4:57 am #

    Ha ha…well, I think it’s fun the horn­worms waited until Hal­loween week to make their fright­en­ing appearance.

    As for the shears, I’m afraid to pass judge­ment, as I often run grubs through with a stick and then leave them posted at the edge of gar­den beds to ward off oth­ers. I can be pretty prim­i­tive, at that.

    Enjoy the day!

  2. tina on 31 Oct 2008 at 5:52 am #

    Love that Drac­ula plant, the ‘scary’ house and the horn­worm. You have an inter­est­ing per­spec­tive on scary that is very gar­dener like:)

  3. lostlandscape on 31 Oct 2008 at 9:45 pm #

    Greg, didn’t the orig­i­nal Count Drac­ula do the same to his ene­mies to warn them against mess­ing with him?

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