A Growing Obsession

“garden for fire”

Posted on February 17, 2025 by Denise

This piece appeared in the Opinion section of the Los Angeles Times February 13, 2025, by historian and landscape designer Wade Graham under the title: “Do more than clear brush. Garden for fire.” I wrote to the author asking for permission to repost it here, which he kindly gave. Wade stresses the importance of gardens and allays misplaced fears of plants seen solely as ignition sources: “Plants in the right place in the landscape are never simply ‘fuel.’ They provide beauty, enjoyment and habitat for wild nature, and crucial protection from fire.”

It is worth copying in its entirety:

Do more than clear brush. Garden for fire

By Wade Graham

“The catastrophic fires in Los Angeles County have stoked anxiety about the role of flammable vegetation around homes and other structures. Months of drought, combined with fierce Santa Ana winds, made for fires that consumed brush at rates of up to three football fields per minute.

And the long-standing injunction to clear brush and trees from around a building to create “defensible space” against fire didn’t always matter. Most of the structures lost in the Eaton and Palisades fires — 16,248, according to Cal Fire at this writing — appear to have been ignited by other buildings, not by vegetation. Stark images from the fires’ devastation have frequently shown plants and trees intact — green and unburned — surrounding the incinerated ruins of buildings.

Fires driven by strong winds are less about direct flame setting a structure alight than about missiles: firebrands — burning pieces of vegetation or structures — and especially embers — small burning particles. Firebrands in particular can be blown many miles ahead of the flaming front of a fire, starting new blazes. This “spotting” was a critical factor in the scale of damage done by the Eaton and Palisades fires. Embers, shot sideways at a building as if from a spark cannon, lodge and ignite the surface of a structure or, worse, find ways inside it, igniting it from within, no matter what it is made of.

In extreme conditions, no amount of brush clearance can guarantee protection. A moment of unwelcome clarity came in the 2017 Tubbs fire in Santa Rosa, Calif., when winds approaching hurricane strength blew sparks across the eight-lane 101 Freeway and then an arterial road, igniting a Kmart that was surrounded by an asphalt parking lot, burning it to the ground. Indeed, too much clearing can in fact leave structures vulnerable, with nothing to slow down wind-driven embers.

Given what we now know, we can — and need to — have gardens around our buildings, but gardens designed and tended with fire in mind. The most recent guidelines, including those recommended by the Los Angeles County Fire Department, specify zones of gradually increasing planting radiating out from a structure’s walls.

In the first five feet — Zone 0 — everything must must be noncombustible: concrete, stone, gravel or a similar material. Traditional foundation planting is out, as is wood mulch.

No wooden auxiliary structures should be attached to the building. Not a wooden fence and definitely not a wooden deck. This change in particular can be hard to accept for Californians who cherish indoor-outdoor living. In the Northern California town of Paradise, which was almost destroyed by 2018’s Camp fire, a proposed rule against wooden decks attached to houses, strongly supported by fire officials and scientists, was soundly rejected by remaining residents.

But there are options: first, by separating the wooden part of the deck or the fence from the structure by at least five feet of fire-resistant material — metal or cementitious boards. Decks could also be freestanding. We don’t need to lose our decks entirely, but we have to rethink them.

Zone 1, the next 25 feet out from a building’s walls, is where a garden can thrive. Paradoxically, plants rooted in deep, moist soil offer better protection here than a flat, inorganic surface. That’s because well-watered plants have high “fuel moisture,” which inhibits ignition and catches and smothers flying embers. Plantings in Zone 1 should be low, and not very flammable — more green leaves than woody stems. Succulents or lush ground covers such as star jasmine are better than rosemary, for example.

For the segment closest to your house, traditional lawn is good, but an alternative that requires less water and mowing would be even better: native sedges or yarrow, or nonnative ground covers such as kurapia. Past this first Zone 1 segment, use low shrubs — not too closely spaced, perhaps interspersed with noncombustible pathways or patios. The key is to strike a balance between the heights and massing of greenery, without creating dense thickets.

Zone 2 extends beyond 25 feet from the house, where we can have larger shrubs and carefully placed trees. In older iterations of “defensible space,” trees were anathema, but we now recognize their potential benefits. They provide shade, which goes toward another paramount goal of smart landscape design: climate resilience. And new research shows that some trees with dense, hard leaves, such as native coast live oaks, can act as a “catcher’s mitt,” stopping and knocking down flying embers before they reach a building.

Beyond 100 feet from a structure, modifying vegetation has little effect on its survival in fires. However, local fire department regulations may require “brush clearance” up to 200 feet away. Wherever your property ends in an urban environment, it is better to have perimeter walls than hedges. Working with neighbors to coordinate landscape strategies, especially where different buildings’ zones overlap, will amplify success.

Plants in the right place in the landscape are never simply “fuel.” They provide beauty, enjoyment and habitat for wild nature, and crucial protection from fire.”

Wade Graham is a writer, historian and landscape designer with a practice based in Los Angeles. wadegraham.com

Posted in climate, design | 2 Comments

a brief but well-timed visit to the Disney Concert Hall garden

Posted on February 12, 2025 by Denise

Sometimes I take the Metro train from Long Beach to visit family near Downtown Los Angeles. Yesterday Mitch and his daughter Domino picked me up at the usual stop on Grand Avenue, and we explored the Broad Art Musem and MOCA a bit before heading outdoors for some running room for a two-year-old. I wanted to check the progress on the petite but powerful Disney Concert Hall garden. It had been years since I visited, and I was curious as to how the plantings were holding up in this pass-through space known as the Blue Ribbon Garden.

But the fountain is always Domino’s destination. It is a strikingly fussy, sentimental feature against the backdrop of Gehry’s sleek leviathan of swooping stainless steel panels. But unlike the competing visions of Robert Irwin and Richard Meier for the Getty garden, this little garden was designed by Frank Gehry himself. (“Meier was aghast at Irwin’s proposal; it posited an all-out argument against the permanence and eternal unities that Meier’s architecture symbolized. Both men were directed to collaborate together. Not surprisingly, things did not go well.” When Fountainheads Collide)

3F0A9788 — the Rose Fountain dedicated to Lillian Disney combines her love of roses and Royal Delft Blue porcelain — “A Rose for Lily.” Lillian collected airport shop Delft knockoffs, which Gehry noted on a visit during the hall’s planning stages. 200 Delft vases were commissioned and then shattered along with 10,000 tiles to make the fragments for the fountain.

3F0A9823 — no erupting jets, just some gentle bubbling at the center of the rose

The erythrina, dombeya and bauhinia trees have claimed the garden for shade now, which is quietly carpeted with plants tolerant of the dappled light, including liriope and lomandra. I knew the now-closed Worldwide Exotics nursery had provided plants for the garden and believe the extensive planting of pyrrosia is owed to them.

The tropical and subtropical trees now dominate the smoothly undulating plantings, creating a serene gardenscape to wander through. But what were the fiery spikes interrupting this tranquil scene in the month of February?

3F0A9779 — Scadoxus puniceus, the Paintbrush Lily

I’ve never grown Scadoxus puniceus, a South African member of the Amaryllidaceae, but to me it has the look of a plant that takes forever to mature to blooming size and may or may not take a year off depending on whether it has a proper dry rest at the precisely required time — aka tricky. Or perhaps it’s dead easy. Whatever the case, a mature stand in full bloom was an unexpected sight arising out of the surrounding sea of tranquility.

3F0A9776 — A bulb-like plant that loves the shady life

Posted in Bulbs, design, garden visit, MB Maher | 4 Comments

clippings 2/6/25

Posted on February 6, 2025 by Denise

our goofy Acacia baileyana ‘Purpurea’ a lanky 20-25 footer getting its golden wash of February blooms

The Purple Fernleaf acacia was radically limbed up while I was in Oregon, due to its canopy encroaching on neighboring roofs and fences. It was one of the more shocking sights in the garden upon our return in October. Marty supervised the job while I was in Oregon and told me yesterday he was inclined to take out the entire tree! He’s always been very anti plants near structures, and I’ve slowly, grudgingly come around to his POV, especially so after the January urban wildfires.

Another benefit of the acacia pruning has been providing room for the unnamed trevesia to grow. I think the initial pruning may have allowed in too much sunlight, causing the leaves to singe, but hopefully now it will settle into the new dappled light. The trevesia planted in 2020 tolerated surprisingly dry conditions these past years, but I’m wondering now if the garden’s success was due to two very rainy winters.

The next project we’re dreaming up is a misting system rigged on the pergola for the pots and tillandsias underneath.

the weeping acacia canopy extended below the top of the fence and grazed the pergola before the trimming. The new look took getting used to, but overall I think Marty was right. And the light is much better, the debris much less! The trevesia is the green popsicle seen directly over the orange aloe blooms.

And it turns out our acacia’s odd silhouette was ahead of the curve, because after the January wildfires seemingly everyone, homeowners and professionals alike, got busy cutting back trees. And aesthetics were not top of mind, just the goal of a 5-foot clearance of plant growth from structures and utility wires. Our parkway jacarandas were pruned by the utility companies just a couple months ago too, but after the fires the trees trimmers came back with an even more radical trimming agenda in mind. Buried utility wires would turn our neighborhoods into urban parks, but until then…it’s almost looking like Stumptown South. The parkway trees are now short and squat, unlike my lanky acacia.

The deodar cedars of Christmas Tree Lane in Altadena survived the Eaton Fire. (Chris Pizzello / Associated Press) via LA Times

There may be a fit of tree-trimming ongoing now, but in actuality many trees withstood the firestorm surprisingly well, and it was more the houses that provided the fuel for the conflagration. In an LA Times article on what trees survived the fire, oaks, deodar cedars, camphor trees (Camphora officinarum), and sycamores were some that merited mention. Cristhian Mace, natural areas biologist for LA Co. Parks & Rec, “was thrilled, however, by how well the oaks and sycamores fared around the Eaton Canyon Nature Center, which burned to the ground. ‘Every mature sycamore I saw [in the canyon] had some dark scarring on their bases, but that was it,’ she said. And almost all of the oaks came through just a little singed, ‘so both trees proved their heartiness.‘”

And “Sometimes it’s just the luck of the draw — or the direction of the wind, said Altadena native Rebecca Latta, a biologist and certified arborist. ‘When the fire’s hot enough, it doesn’t matter what you do, but I’m concerned that people are vilifying the trees,’ Latta said. ‘Houses are concentrated fuel sources, and what we saw here is that the trees got burned by the houses next to them burning, not vice versa.’”

The curator of the rose garden at the Huntington, Tom Carruth’s deodar cedar and other plants stand unscathed by the Eaton fire that destroyed his East Altadena Drive home, and the homes of his neighbors.
(Jeanette Marantos / Los Angeles Times)

The articles may be paywalled, so one more quote: “Many other large conifers like pines survived the fires too. In fact, many of the biggest survivors appear to be evergreens such as conifers and native oak trees, said fire safety educator and landscape architect Doug Kent, who recently visited the burn areas in Altadena. ‘The oaks did an incredible job; they really lived up to their mythology as fire catchers,’ Kent said. ‘And the camphors, which are not native, did a great job too. They’re a popular evergreen tree with a big, open canopy, like an umbrella with reddish green leaves.’”

water hogs in action! The system can be rigged to a soaker hose.

So with fire and water very much dominating our thoughts and conversations, we naturally turned to…the water hogs. In March of 2011 I wrote about a modular water storage system I admired, designed in Australia. The system was briefly available through Groupon (is that still around?!) and we bought six, capable of holding 51 gallons each. The units can slide horizontal under a deck or stand vertically, but we never found the perfect Goldilocks location and stored them in the attic. With the narrow strip behind the garage/office recently cleared out to paint the fence (my former potting area with shelves), Marty decided this might be the time and location to install the water hogs.

A narrow space never ideal for a potting area, it mainly collected lots of garden junk

Weirdly, there’s not much info available on the system since the initial fanfare that attracted my attention, which would suggest that they are not in widespread use. And that may be due to the fact that after rigging them with the included plumbing hardware, the system leaked. Not the food-grade water hogs themselves, just the fittings. Marty bought new plumbing pipes and connectors locally, and now the system is watertight. It’s not connected to the roof gutters but used just as water storage for now. (And in fairness, that the original fittings leaked may also be due to being stored in a hot attic for 14 years.)

foreground Echeveria ‘Frank Reinelt’ with ‘Maria’ immediate top left

Bringing the eye down to ground level for some plant talk, the Echeveria agavoides moved to the back garden to fill in gaps are settling in, and now a few distinct kinds can be discerned. Echeveria ‘Frank Reineilt’ is the largest, with broad pointed leaves, an open habit, not as incurved as the species.

Found in eight locations in Mexico, it is an extremely variable species, so it’s no surprise I’ve brought home a few different kinds over the years.

Echeveria ‘Maria’ or possibly ‘Lipstick’

If I’m correct that this is ‘Maria,’ it also has an open habit with short apple-green leaves. tipped in red. As the echeverias adjust to this sunnier site, their true coloring will develop and help with IDs.

guessing this more numerous echeveria in my garden is E. agavoides ‘Prolifera’

I may have also spotted a very small, single rosette of ‘Lipstick’ (or ‘Ebony’), but the majority are the rapidly offsetting kind that may or may not be Echeveria agavoides ‘Prolifera.’

with Agave stricta and a warty-leaved echeveria, not really a fav but, hey, it survived so it gets a place

Still bringing home plants — Aeonium ‘Super Bang’

Soft rain the past two days has been a godsend for this very dry, dusty garden

Two days after the Los Angeles fires started on January 7, I noticed an article published in a journal entitled “Hydroclimate volatility on a warming Earth” that describes a noticeable whiplash effect characterized by “frequent transitions between very dry and very wet conditions.” Los Angeles’ previous two wet winters followed by extended drought certainly fit the model. And now the term “whiplash” is everywhere. Very apropos of so much these days, right? A whiplash world. I’m trying to use my attention judiciously, no longer expecting to discover when the just causes triumph but instead following the outlines of the damage being done to bear witness. Let me know how you’re coping! Take care, stay well!

My son Mitch’s car in the Pacific Palisades the morning of January 7, as the fire gained ground before the evacuation orders. He and his family left around 10:30 a.m. and made it out before the streets became impassable due to abandoned cars.

Posted in climate, clippings | 6 Comments

Bloomday January 2025

Posted on January 15, 2025 by Denise

Tulbaghia ‘Fairy Star’ in foreground, just planted today. The old LA streetlamp shade is an old find that I appreciate more and more.

The 15th of every month occasions a long-running tradition for bloggers to post on blooms in their gardens wherever situated on the globe (started by Carol J. Michel). In my currently stripped-down SoCal garden, made lean on a diet of low water/neglect, winter-blooming aloes seem even more fabulous than usual to me, especially since I’ve missed this sight the past few winters.

The garden is “stripped down” in the sense that there’s none of my usual plans and planting for summer, since I will be away, but I have been noting what’s survived some challenging conditions and built on these observations. Tulbaghias have been notable for handling extremely dry conditions here. Some of the leaf growth had completely flattened to the ground when I returned to the garden in October, but with a little care the plants have rejuvenated and even bloomed. So I continue to pick up new varieties locally when available. (Another recent find was the Golden Society Garlic, Tulbaghia ‘Oro Verde’ not pictured.)

Tulbaghia ‘Flamingo’ planted January 2025

Tulbaghia ‘Fairy Star’ planted January 2025

I’ve been moving this diminutive tulbaghia around the garden the past few days, looking for an opening where it can be backlit and not swamped by other plants. A tricky little plant to showcase, but what a light-catcher, and easily stirred into movement by any slight breeze. The Santa Ana winds have not been very pronounced in Long Beach, unlike the canyon areas.

Bilbergia ‘Violetta’ one of three in bloom

Pelargonium echinatum, summer deciduous, 18 years in my garden!

Every winter I become enamored all over again with summer-deciduous pelargoniums. I’ve currently got my eye on quite a few on offer from Geraniaceae.

Other than the aloes in bloom, the garden is pretty quiet…

In addition to the tulbaghias, other grass-like plants that have endured include seslerias, lomandras, some sedges, restios, even libertia.

It’s been a tumultuous, emotional week, with friends and family affected by the firestorm. Like most Los Angeles residents, I’ve been immersed in reading and watching fire alerts on Watch Duty. The political theater is sickening, but not surprising. I’ve been subscribing to Austin Keon’s newsletter for years, but following it a little more closely lately — a generous, humane viewpoint is essential! Take care, be safe!

Posted in Bloom Day, climate, Los Angeles garden post 2024, succulents | 4 Comments

winter-blooming aloes go about their business

Posted on December 13, 2024 by Denise

Returning from a 10-day trip over Thanksgiving, the garden buzzed with energy from emerging aloe flowers.

Seeing the refreshed garden after the weeks of cleanup in October/November was a pretty special homecoming.

Catching the aloes starting their winter bloom cycle is an event I’ve missed in our 3-year absence. It’s reassuring to find that, whatever conditions the aloes endured, they’ve not missed a beat.

Felicia echinata, the dune daisy, from Curious Flora — new perennial acquisitions are getting trialed in containers

Another classic road trip benefit is…bringing home plants. I’ve been reluctant to add much to a garden that has to survive without a caretaker half the year until I find an arrangement that works. So adding in perennials among succulents has been crossed off garden practices for now — other than the existing reseeders like Sonchus palmensis and Geranium palmatum. But our route home took us 5 minutes away from Curious Flora (formerly Annies Annuals). Marty insisted!

Trichostema ‘Midnight Magic,’ a hybrid of the native Woolly Blue Curls from Curious Flora

Here’s the basic outline of the road trip. Thanksgiving dinner had us in Sebastopol, north of San Francisco, and we decided to add on a quick trip back to the Oregon Coast since we were sort of halfway there already. The only consideration was the state of the road up Interstate 5 at Mount Shasta. Tire chains necessary? Icy conditions? Using Highway 101 as an alternative adds about two hours travel time, but we opted for the optimal road conditions it offers in December. The stunning scenery 101 provides was a benefit we’d forgotten. It had been years since we’d driven up Highway 101, encountering herds of elk while driving through redwoods in Northern California, the spectacular Oregon coast at Bandon, Florence, Yachats — it was an ecstatic drive. We somehow managed to avoid a drop of rain the entire time. I was looking forward to some rain in Tillamook, but it too was dry and frosty, and I stayed housebound with a head cold for nearly the entire visit.

Even though technically hardy in Tillamook’s zone 8, I brought Agave toumeyana back to the zone 10 garden to fatten it up with some winter sunshine.

On the return drive south, to cross over from 101 back to Interstate 5 near San Francisco took us right past Curious Flora, formerly Annies Annuals, now reincarnated as a retail nursery, no longer offering mail order. Arriving near closing, there was no time for photos but just enough time to bask in the enduring glow of this incredible nursery. The huge Agave ovatifolia is still there anchoring its nursery bed. The cow had been returned to its rightful place near the entrance. And table after table brimmed with transcendently healthy and alluring nursery stock, with names very familiar to us catalogue junkies (on labels that already reflected the owner change to Curious Flora.) It was a very reassuring visit, with cheerful employees bustling about, all the plants still safely under the care of long-time knowledgeable staff. (Another recent source of plants came from an excellent local nursery now calling it quits, with no happy ending on the horizon. A 3-gallon Beschorneria ‘Flamingo Glow’ and gallons each of Aloe brevifolia and Aloe ‘Always Red,’ all planted yesterday, all three plants for a total of $20 at 75% discount.)

A little pot of recently germinated Dioscorea elephantipes accompanied us on our travels, too fragile to be left behind. From 5-year-old seed from the Denver Botanic Garden, I was astonished to find two seedlings not long after sowing in October. A third seedling germinated in late November, after I inadvertently left the pot out over a cold night in Sebastopol. I wasn’t much of a fan of caudiciforms previously, so let the seeds idle for years. I always thought they were the least attractive plants at succulent shows! Now I appreciate their waterwise longevity, both as plants and seeds! If they survive, these plants will outlast me.

Take care and have a great holiday!

Posted in plant nurseries, pots and containers, succulents | 8 Comments

fence project status

Posted on November 22, 2024 by Denise

(A quick recap. Creeping fig, Ficus pumila, covered the south CMU wall of the back garden since we bought in ’89. Clinging tightly, it grew tall and thick and provided excellent evergreen privacy. A couple years ago, the neighbor on the other side of the CMU wall tired of the upkeep and tore it off his side. From that point the weight imbalance proved fatal, and during heavy wind last year it cleaved off our side of the wall too. Overnight the 9-foot green wall turned into a 6-foot pink wall that no longer provided privacy. Tenants said nothing of the collapse, and I only discovered it on a quick visit, lying like a rug over the back garden. (I’m pretty sure that’s what killed the bocconia and more.) I also hated the constant upkeep, but I loved watching possums stealthily navigate the green wall, creating mysterious waves of crunchy leafy movement, only a slim tail in evidence. It was wonderful for wildlife; birds, possums, raccoons, fig wasps.)

Various euphorbias like the corncob euphorb (E. mammilaris) and a trailing caput-medusae were rewarded for surviving in individual small pots with a slightly larger group pot slipped into the urn

Early morning photos are a little dark, but the colors are basically true. CMU cinderblock soaks up a lot of paint, three undercoats and a final color coat. Four colors, mustard, grey-blue, pale yellow/chartreuse and pea green. Mustard and grey-blue are repeated, six panels in all. The visible wood supports were painted pea green. Except for the mustard, the choice of colors was mostly inspired by the succulents themselves.

a wood turner was getting rid of lots of spindles a few years back and it was time to use them or toss them, and now seemed a good time with the garden relatively bare. Experimenting with placement before paint, ideally groups of three totems in varying heights using leftover fence paint.

showing the southeast corner where the varying fence heights meet — no need to extend height on the east side and usually this corner is covered by the neighbor’s wisteria and pepper tree all recently pruned. When covered with creeping fig, an additional 2-3 feet of depth was added to the boundary wall, maybe more if not kept tightly trimmed. And the branches eventually thickened to the point that a tight trim was impossible.

the green is a little blotchy and needs another pass with the roller

waking up to the garden the morning after the panels were up brought some calm I didn’t know I was missing

A vendor at the Long Beach flea had some nice plants including some amazing greenovias from South Korea. Cash only, so I had to pass. But I did shake out all our pockets for this Aeonium ‘Pink Witch.’

And some plant news. For locals, the Long Beach Armstrong’s currently has in stock the hard-to-find natural hybrid Alyogyne ‘Ruth Bancroft.’ I’ve sworn to do very little new planting but did manage to shoehorn in this one.

More soon!

Posted in journal, Los Angeles garden post 2024, pots and containers, succulents | 7 Comments

infrastructure week in the SoCal zone 10 garden

Posted on November 11, 2024 by Denise

Now that the back garden has been (mostly) cleared and sorted, it’s a little weird to find that some of the remaining plants have now turned into nameless strangers. Especially the aloes. The one pictured, with the elegant scroll-worked leaves, I’ve finally decided must be Aloe pluridens aka the French Aloe. I’ve been making progress with identification through checking old photos and blog posts, a comforting post-election distraction. There’s just one other aloe that will remain a mystery to be solved once it flowers.

I wish I could just as easily untangle the painful mystery of the recent election results. There are lots of theories on offer. Democrats have lost the working class voter because __________. The degraded state of the information ecosystem is certainly a factor, and I have a little story that might illustrate this part of the puzzle.

On the North Oregon Coast, where we’ve spent the better part of the last three years near Tillamook Bay, work is now underway on repairing the South Jetty. What may sound like a straightforward construction project is anything but to the locals. It concerns infamously hazardous conditions arising from the convergence of fresh water from five rivers exiting through the narrow mouth of the bay. The crabbing and abundance of steelhead and salmon make this coast prime fishing, but the turbulent waters have taken their toll on the community in lives and income lost. Some families lost a husband and a son in a single disastrous fishing trip.

Garibaldi Bay — Kincheloe Point was named for the surveyor Julius Kincheloe who drowned in 1867 while sounding the bar. The lost city of Bayocean was settled on this peninsula in 1909.

Proposals for solutions go back to early in the last century, when an oceanfront community raised the funds for the Army Corps of Engineers to tame the waters and make the boat journey to their homes a little less harrowing. Two jetties were recommended, one on each side of the bay’s mouth, but funds enough for only one jetty were raised. The one-sided solution only exacerbated the problem, and the community named Bayocean was ultimately swept away by the sea.

By the 21st century, both north and south jetties were in place, with continual repairs needed to strengthen them. In particular, local government has sought repairs to the South Jetty since 2009. In January 2022, $62 million was allocated from the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act for repair of the South Jetty. The source of funding is not a secret but it doesn’t appear to be widely known and/or acknowledged either. This work critical to the small fishing communities will undoubtedly be completed under the incoming president’s term, the one voted in office by Tillamook County. The one who never got an “Infrastructure Week” off the ground. The one who didn’t fund the jetty work when he had a chance. The one who will probably take credit for the economic success all these projects will deliver.

There are thousands of such projects underway right now in every state. (You can check the work funded in your state here.) For me this is the kind of problem-solving that one party consistently delivers for voters. Sure, there’s a long arc and it can take years to see results. Would hearing some of these infrastructure success stories on the campaign trail have made a difference? What do I know, I’m just an old liberal…

Marty is quickly finishing work on the fence project. Fence is fresh painted a light grey, multi-color panels yet to be decided. The neighbor’s roofline is all that’s visible, a vast improvement over looking in their windows.

Take care, AGO

Posted in journal, Los Angeles garden post 2024, succulents | 9 Comments

Bilbergia ‘Violetta’ (my how you’ve grown!)

Posted on October 27, 2024 by Denise

50572629988_dd57a8a132_z — new planting under Grevillea ‘Moonlight’ November 2020, foreground bromeliad is Bilbergia ‘Violetta,’ original plant purchased in 2013

In November 2020 I moved a couple pups of Bilbergia ‘Violetta’ under Grevillea ‘Moonlight,’ along with a large astelia and other odds and ends. Only the bromeliads and Callisia fragrans survived. (The callisia aka Basket Plant or False Bromeliad, also multiplied like crazy.) Because I knew this would be a nasty, scratchy job, this was the last area to be cleaned up a couple days ago.

bromeliads and Callisia fragrans prior to cleanup

Those two ‘Violetta’ pups expanded into three large clumps, 3′ in height, with numerous offsets, all moved to the east side of the garden.

Bilbergia ‘Violetta’ moved against east fence October 25, 2024. Silvery Gomphostigma virgatum is new.

Cleaning up the broms filled with grevillea leaves and seedpods took hours. Other than cleaning, the clumps were left intact. Their new location on the east side of the garden will no doubt result in debris raining down on the broms as well, but hopefully a lesser amount. Judging by the vigor and health of ‘Violetta,’ in habitat broms must be pigs for debris-filled conditions.

grey metal fence meets pink CMU wall getting prepped for paint

Two more large clumps of ‘Violetta’ were moved in front of the African Spear Lily (Doryanthes palmeri) and Giant Crinum (C. asiaticum), and the step-down in scale they provide looks right to me. Lots of Callisia fragrans were moved here as well. The plan is to rework the garden with the plants with the proven toughest bonafides. Geranium palmatum and Sonchus palmensis are seeding into the rock spine, which is fine by my new laissez-faire attitude. Covering the ground and keeping out weeds are paramount.

50572595548_b32ab016d2_c — rock spine planted November 2020. Most of the small planting done then is gone.

756a1453 — Terremoto’s Carden Hall Elementary School

Initially I planned to paint the CMU wall one color, specifically a pea-green color similar to the panel in the above photo. Marty leans toward painting the entire wall grey to tie into the metal fence on the east side. But then I found the above photo of work done by Terremoto with panels of color, and I think this is my preference. One of the panels would be grey to link to the metal fence. Too institutional for a home garden? Opinions welcome!

CMU wall runs southern length of the garden. Patch of St. Augustine’s grass is just past the grate on the left

The middle of the garden has been emptied out of weeds, dead or dying plants. A lanky Strobilanthes gossypinus was beat up but still alive, so it’s been pruned and retained. The ‘Golfball’ pittosporum on the right was also retained and will be cut back fairly hard. The clump of Eryngium pandanifolium seen against the CMU wall was thinned to two rosettes. Amazing how this eryngo tolerates the wet of the Oregon garden as well as the dryness in Los Angeles.

Drawback of furry-leaved plants lijke Strobilanthes gossypinus is the grime they accumulate. This is an improvement after repeated mistings.

Agave ‘Ray of Light’ is luminous again after hand-washing the leaves

Variegated St. Augustine’s grass spread into a large bright patch, clambering over possibly agapanthus, giant fennel, and who knows what else. It’s earned a place in this part-time garden. Flicker of magenta on the left comes from Salvia chiapensis, found locally, something for the hummingbirds in addition to the grevillea and pedilanthus/Tall Slipper Plant.

Like the St. Augustine’s grass, Carex ‘Feather Falls’ didn’t even require any cleaning. Yucca rostrata finally developed a bit of a trunk in my absence, which still needs some cleanup. Let me know your thoughts on painting the CMU one color or multiple panels of color. Input, please!

Posted in journal, Los Angeles garden post 2024 | 10 Comments

caudiciform plants for the win

Posted on October 22, 2024 by Denise

I confess the loss of Beaucarnea ‘Gold Star’ was one I dreaded the most during our extended absence. It was one of the first plants I rushed to check upon return. Survival of caudiciform plants was a theme.

Right up there with worrying over Beaucarnia ‘Gold Star’ was concern for its relative xCalibanus hookeri, or Calicarnea, a cross between beaucarnia and calibanus found at Lotusland. It was a mass of undifferentiated writhing leaves until I excitedly stripped away the lower growth to reveal the beautiful shape of its swollen, water-storing trunk for the first time. Caudiciform plants share this trick of being able to store water in their swollen stems, trunks, and above-ground roots. Inadvertently, I’d accumulated a small collection of them: beaucarnias, cussonias, brachychiton, and pseudobombax, and every one of them managed to survive. All but Cussonia paniculata and the calicarnea were in containers.

Admittedly, the two cabbage trees are a little thin on top. Cussonia paniculata was planted in the ground to improve its survival odds, and it was developing a nice mop of leaves until someone felt moved to chop them off. At that point, on a quick return visit, I assumed the plant was done. Seeing this new crop of leaves spurred me to move it back to a pot again in the hopes that a container implies the plant is special, that it enjoys protected status and is not to be messed with.

Cussonia spicata in the tall grey pot, long trunk

Cussonia spicata has always suffered from a receding hairline, so its thin canopy wasn’t much of a change. It’s been moved to a site with more sun, at the end of the pergola where the tetrapanax once held court and the Passiflora vitifolia was removed. (Tetrapanax may be in just temporary exile, lurking and waiting for more irrigation. I like him better in the coastal Oregon garden, so wouldn’t mind if he calls it quits here.). As usual I’m terrible with before-and-after documentation, but did take a short video, link here.

Not only did the potted brachychiton survive the neglect, but Farfugium japonicum ‘Shishi Botan’ did as well, so it was brought along and rehomed in the tank too. A couple of ankle-biting dyckias were planted at the edge of the tank to drape over the side.

The trunk behind the silver dickia belongs to Brachychiton discolor. Its trunk swells but not to the pronounced effect of Brachychiton rupestris aka the Bottle Tree. My 8-foot Queensland Lacebark survived in a 14-inch pot so earned an upgrade to this heavy tank. (The tank years ago housed Agave vilmoriniana ‘Stained Glass’ but was no longer in use, I moved it to this site vacated by Grevillea ‘Poorinda Blondie’ that died while I was away.).

pulling down a maple-like leaf of Brachychiton discolor for a better view. The accumulation of filth on the leaves is typical of the dry garden here.

Silvery Hechtia tillandsioides with Orthophytum magalhaesii on the right handling life without me very well

on the right, Agave ‘Mateo’ was newly moved to the back garden. The front garden is where the plants sustained the most careless treatment e.g., the cussonia getting topped, the Nolina nelsonii getting porcupined. ‘Mateo’ is getting big enough that I feared he would be getting similar treatment if not moved.

Agave ‘Mateo’ with Yucca ‘Magenta Magic’ on the right, which tolerated the dry conditions effortlessly

leaning trunk of Pseudobombax ellipticum

Pseudobombax ellipticum, the Shaving Brush Tree, is also comically tall and skinny but has earned some extra TLC. The fernleaf acacia is sporting its new limbed-up profile. A helpful neighbor was let loose with a saw and pruners. It’s a messy tree and needed handling, but it’s still a shock to see the canopy reduced to such an extent. I’ve yet to clean out the Yucca rostrata, clotted with years of debris from the acacia. Essential for shade and wildlife, nevertheless trees are the bane of a succulent garden!

87F yesterday, still in the mid 80s today, maybe some clouds by the end of the week to turn off this microwave oven of dry heat. Possibility of a frost tonight on the north Oregon coast. Take care!

Posted in agaves, woody lilies, journal, pots and containers, succulents | 10 Comments

taking stock of the runaway garden

Posted on October 16, 2024 by Denise

I know “runaway garden” is an oxymoron, but even so the SoCal garden (zone 10) seems to have been on a journey without me, cycling through various caretakers, some benign, some less so. The last few days have been the longest time I’ve spent in it since that leavetaking in October 2021. Since returning it’s been nonstop cleanup and sorting out disputes among some very large succulents, retaining the best and generally thinning out the garden for easier future maintenance. And making it safer for kids and future guests.

But I am so impressed with the resilience of the succulents.

Aloe tongaensis ‘Medusa’ is one of many succulents that flourished in pots in my absence. A potted tree Aloe ‘Goliath’ toppled and could not be saved, so ‘Medusa’ is some consolation.

Pots and garden were all bone dry on my return. (The last guest left six weeks ago, and the garden probably had better survival odds once they departed.) In the above photo, the potted ‘Medusa’ and Euphorbia canariensis were both moved to this corner, which is in the process of being reworked almost entirely, a mix of in-ground plants and potted. (If a plant survived all this time in a pot, it stays potted, especially the larger specimens). A poorly placed Aloe marlothii was removed, as was Agave lophantha ‘Quadricolor’ — its leaves were cut off by caretakers, so the plant was basically ruined. Same for an enormous Agave kerchovei ‘Huajapan Red’ that never reddened but was nevertheless stunning if growing too large for its spot. The potted cordyline surprisingly survived the crush of plants and lack of water.

On the right, Aloe capitata x quartziticola was salvaged, overgrown by a leaning Leucadendron ‘Jester’ that had to come out. Small rosette-type aloes will be planted near the paths, with spikier stuff like the Euphorbia canariensis moved further back.

While I was away, the weeds flourished (crouch grass, oxalis, bronze fennel, even Solanum pyracanthos and a prolific euphorbia that I no doubt introduced). The unclipped creeping fig vine had sheared off the back wall from its excessive height and weight, leaving the flesh-colored CMU and the once-hidden neighboring houses visible, which takes getting used to. The passion vine, Passiflora vitifolia, clambered everywhere, hanging in curtains from the pergola, scaling the acacia tree, the roof. Removing the passion vine was key in assessing what could be saved.

Agave celsii var. albicans needs a cleaning but is otherwise in good shape. I’d like to pry that offset away from the mother plant eventually

Weeds covered the ground and encompassed those astonishing survivors, the succulents. (Long sleeves, gloves, and a hemostat are essential.) As much as I fought having a wholly succulent garden, loving the sculptural beauty but less so the inert, seasonless effect, I now recognize that if a frost-free garden is going to be abandoned for years at a time, succulents are the answer. A tree-like Grevillea ‘Moonlight’ and huge clump of Pedilanthus bracteatus continue to satisfy the bees and hummingbirds, animating the garden with a whirring, buzzing soundtrack.