colder than alaska

It’s been a cool sum­mer so far, fol­low­ing on the heels of a sunny but cool spring. I’ve been watch­ing the tem­per­a­tures in the paper for Fair­banks, Alaska, and most days the offi­cial San Diego report has been cooler. In fact it’s been cooler than almost any­where in the US except for maybe Anchor­age in Alaska. Brr.

At my July 4th party I was talk­ing to some­one there with ties to the Scripps Insti­tu­tion of Oceanog­ra­phy, and his thoughts were that this is typ­i­cal for an El Niño year. The phe­nom­e­non that the locals call “May gray” would be slow to get started (as was the case this year), and the dreaded sub­se­quent phe­nom­e­non the we call “June gloom” would drag on longer than usual. All that seems to be happening.

The gar­den natives don’t seem to be wor­ry­ing about the tem­per­a­ture as much as I’ve been. In fact the late-spring bloomers seem to be hav­ing a field day, extend­ing their bloom, look­ing nice at a time of year when they don’t always. Black sage is often done by this time, but there are a few lin­ger­ing flow­er­ing stems.

For stun­ning flow­ers, though, the black sage has passed the baton to Cleve­land sage. Here’s the com­mon and gor­geous cul­ti­var ‘Win­nifred Gilman.’

…and here’s Win­nifred in closeup…

One of local live-forevers, Dud­leya edulis, has had one of the more amaz­ing years that I can remem­ber. Here’s an 18–20 year old plant from above, all cov­ered with flow­ers. In this photo it’s sprawl­ing six feet across from one edge to the other.

The same dud­leya, viewed from ground level as it cas­cades over a short lit­tle retain­ing wall.

The San Miguel Island buck­wheat that I grew from seed two years ago, Eri­o­gonum grande var. rubescens, is finally hit­ting its stride, finally look­ing the pho­tos I’ve seen in books. Maybe the cooler weather will keep it look­ing nice longer.

Among the many non-natives that call my gar­den their home, this is Clero­den­drum ugan­dense, finally perk­ing up after look­ing like a twig until late in May. I think it’s been a some­what slow start for this plant this year, but it always waits until the weather warms to look like a plant you want to keep in the garden.

The com­mon orna­men­tal sage, Salvia ‘Hot Lips,’ is grown for its red and white bicol­ored blooms. I’ve heard that it blooms mostly with white flow­ers when weather turns cold. In the left photo these are the only two red and white flow­ers I could find on three plants. The rest of the flow­ers are white. In the depths of win­ter, how­ever, this plant is often com­pletely bicol­ored, so I’m not sure if there’s any truth to this color change rumor.

Some of the plants that I worry about the most are my Amer­i­can pitcher plants, these Sar­race­nia from the South, where the daily low tem­per­a­tures these days are often run­ning ten degrees above the San Diego day­time highs. For­tu­nately these plants seem to respond more to daylength than to tem­per­a­ture, and the plants look pretty good. Still, they might be taller by now where they originate.

Cool as the days may be, one thing told me for sure that I do not live remotely near Alaska. Mon­day night was the grand open­ing of the first giant bloom of this climb­ing cac­tus, prob­a­bly Hylo­cereus unda­tus. Even if it’s prob­a­bly been slow get­ting started this year, it’s prob­a­bly the best proof that I’m over­re­act­ing. Hardy to not much below freez­ing, one hit of arc­tic cold and you’ll freeze this plant’s tuchas off.

At eight to ten inches across, the only shy thing about this plant is that it only opens as dark­ness approaches. Peo­ple in cold climes covet being able to grow plants like this–or in fact many of our more ten­der Cal­i­for­nia natives.

That’s def­i­nite proof, Dorothy. We don’t live in Alaska. It just might feel that way these cool sum­mer days.

July 07 2010 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 13 Comments »

july bloom day

For this month’s Gar­den Blog­gers Bloom Day I have some closeup pho­tos of some of what’s bloom­ing in the gar­den. I’ve done a cou­ple posts on using back­grounds behind plants (Back­ground check / One way to pho­togr­pah a tree). Inspired, all but one of these shots uses a white sheet of mat­board placed behind the plants. Each color of back­ground presents a dif­fer­ent end result. Using white accen­tu­ates dark flow­ers and stems, and some of these pho­tos are a busy net­work of dark lines against the light background.

There are some new­com­ers just com­ing into bloom, but many plants have been in bloom for sev­eral months. When life gives you more of the same flowers…well, I was think­ing I’d try to pho­to­graph them a lit­tle differently.

I sus­pect the neigh­bors think I’m odd enough tak­ing pic­tures of every­thing in the gar­den, and I thought it’d be extra-distressing if I were to be walk­ing around the gar­den with a big white board as well as the cam­era. As a result all of these are from the quiet pri­vacy of the back yard, with the excep­tion of the one plant with­out a white background.

echinacea-purpurea-with-white-background

echinacea-purpurea-2-with-white-background

Pur­ple cone­flower, Echi­nacea pur­purea.

leonotis-leonorus-with-white-background

sphaeralcea-ambigua-with-white-background

Lion’s tail, Leono­tis leonorus; Desert mal­low, Sphaer­al­cea
ambigua
.

hymenocallis-festalis-with-white-background

osteospermum-with-white-background

Peru­vian daf­fodil, Hymeno­cal­lis fes­talis; Free­way daisy, Osteosper­mum sp.

verbena-bonariensis-with-white-background

juncus-patens-2-with-white-background

Ver­bena bonar­ien­sis; Jun­cus patens (with fallen leaf caught in the plant).

Some salvias:

salvia-nemerosa-snow-hills-with-white-backgroundsalvia-cacaliaefolia-with-white-background

Salvia nemerosa ‘Snow Hills’; Ivy-leaved sage (Salvia cacali­ae­fo­lia).

salvia-discolor-with-white-background

salvia-microphylla-hot-lips

On the left is Andean sage (Salvia dis­color with its almost black flow­ers set in light green calyces; on the right is Salvia micro­phylla ‘Hot Lips.’

Some Cal­i­for­nia buckwheats:

eriogonum-fasciculatum-with-white-background

Flat-topped buck­wheat (Eri­o­gonum fas­ci­c­u­la­tum)

eriogonum-grande-rubescens-with-white-background

San Miguel Island buck­wheat (Eri­o­gonum grande var. rubescens)

eriogonum-giganteum

St. Catherine’s lace (Eri­o­gonum gigan­teum)

clerodendrum-ugandense-with-white-background

sarracenia-leucophylla-with-white-background

But­ter­fly bush (Clero– den­drum ugan– dense); seed pod of white­top pitcher plant (Sar­race­nia leu­co­phylla).

double-variegated-bougainvillea-with-white-background

agastache-aurantiaca-apricot-sprite-with-white-background

Pink and white dou­ble bougainvil­lea (unknown vari­ety); Agas­tache auran­ti­aca ‘Apri­cot Sprite.’

double-pink-bougainvillea-with-thie-background

datura-wrightii-with-white-background

Pink dou­ble bougainvil­lea (another unknown vari­ety); toloache (Datura wrightii).

Thanks again the Carol of May Dreams Gar­dens for host­ing Gar­den Blog­gers Bloom Day. It’s a ter­rific way to build com­mu­nity among gar­den blog­gers want­ing to share the flow­ers in their gar­dens. Check out this month’s offerings!

July 14 2009 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 16 Comments »

a rehearsal

Ear­lier I shared a closeup photo of a san­tolina that had flow­ered but where I hadn’t cut off the spent blooms. The stems had devel­oped a gen­tly lyri­cal brown coun­ter­point to the blue-gray foliage.

Fountain grass and santolina along walkway

Foun­tain grass and along walkway

Here’s what the plant looks like now as you turn off the side­walk towards the house. (The plant in the back­ground is the com­mon red foun­tain grass, Pen­nise­tum x avena ‘Rubrum’.)

I’m treat­ing this as a bit of a rehearsal for what the gar­den might look like in future years. I’ve set three plants of two dif­fer­ent buck­wheats in the ground, and I have at least six pots of another buck­wheat that I’m rais­ing from seed. These are plants that have umbels of tiny flow­ers for two or more months of the year. And then the whole flow­er­ing assem­bly turns brown to black.

The first thing a typ­i­cal gar­dener would be tempted to do is to chop the stem back. But these dried stems hover del­i­cately over the plants and have a quiet beauty of their own. Once you change your expec­ta­tions of how to main­tain a plant–i.e., chop­ping off any dead flowers–and let the plants do their thing, they can be amaz­ing in new and dif­fer­ent ways. (Of course, many plants look much bet­ter by dead­head­ing the spent blooms. It’s the rare gar­den plant that ages so grace­fully as these san­toli­nas or buckwheats.)

St. Catherine's lace at Quail Botanical Gardens

St. Catherine’s lace at Quail Botan­i­cal Gardens

Here’s a shot from the past week­end of Eri­o­gonum gigan­teum, St. Catherine’s lace, past its bloom period at Quail Botan­i­cal Gar­dens. This large buck­wheat is native to the Chan­nel Islands off the coast of South­ern Cal­i­for­nia, as well as some of the adja­cent coast. It looks a lit­tle like Queen Anne’s lace for a while in the spring, and then the stems dry to a warm rust or dark brown that I didn’t cap­ture very well in this photo of a plant in the shade.

It’s a look that’s more infor­mal than many gar­dens in the neigh­bor­hood, a look the coex­ists eas­ily with dried grasses and casual shrubs, but not with roses or man­i­cured bor­ders of annuals.

I’m prepar­ing myself for the look with some of these untrimmed plants, and I’m already anx­ious for how the buck­wheats will look next sum­mer. And maybe by next sum­mer the neigh­bors will be ready for the look, too. The untrimmed san­tolina is just the rehearsal.

October 08 2008 | Categories: gardeninglandscape designmy garden | Tags: | No Comments »