The Low Line (really)

Credit goes to New York for currently being the city with the most moxie, ingenuity, and brass-balled chutzpah in creating new public parks. (See Frank Bruni’s 7/14/12 piece in the NYT’s Sunday Review “Our Newly Lush Life.”) New York’s recent success with parks illustrates two important points: Where space is at a premium, look again at existing, abandoned infrastructure. When money is tight, get creative with public/private relationships. New York is aiming to build on the enormous success of the High Line, the abandoned elevated railway transformed into one of the most exciting public/private garden collaborations of recent years, but this time going underground.

Yes, underground, where the sun don’t shine.


Photobucket

With a moon-shot, can-do, New York swagger, co-creators of the Delancey Underground project, James Ramsey and Dan Barasch, envision light reaching the abandoned Delancey Street Trolley Station through “a large system of mirrors and fiber optics to transport sunlight from the streets above into the cavernous facility, filling the space with enough natural lighting to even allow plants to grow.” (“The Low Line – New York’s First Underground Park“)

Architectural Digest’s 5/11/12 Daily Ad reported on a soiree held to benefit the High Line and ended with this intriguing snippet:

As for New York’s next great park, Boykin Curry, a partner at Eagle Capital Management, and his wife, interior designer Celerie Kemble, mentioned a project they’re currently championing: the Low Line. ‘Some friends and I have been collaborating on this,’ explained Curry of the proposed two-acre subterranean park that would occupy a former trolley terminal on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. ‘A friend of ours is an engineer who invented the technology to bring sunlight below ground, so you can grow trees and grass there,’ he continued. ‘We’re working on it with the MTA and the city.’ Fingers crossed.”

No, I’m not making this up. You can read more about the Low Line here and here. Initial fund-raising goal was met on Kickstarter this past April.

Posted in design, garden travel, garden visit, science | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Bloom Day July 2012

I’m taking the last few weeks of July off work, which means sitting at a computer is the last thing I want to do. But miss a Bloom Day? Never! Since I’m heading out on more adventures this week, I’m going to rush through a few photos of my garden and then add in a few from last week’s trip to the Bay Area.

Papaver rupifragum and the Broom Fern, Asparagus virgatus (zone 7-10).

Photobucket

No vase required for this arrangement.

Photobucket

Helenium puberulum — of all the knockout heleniums to grow, right? I do like knobby stuff, though. I thought perhaps less petals meant less water requirements than fully petaled heleniums. Silly logic and not at all the case. A one-summer experiment.

Photobucket

Dahlia ‘Chat Noir’ — trialing a couple peachy dahlias this summer, too, and am not at all enthused. Done with dahlias. Except for this dark beauty. Saliva canariensis and Persicaria amplexicaulis in background

Photobucket

‘Monch’ asters are making a reappearance this year. Amazing long period of bloom, consorts well with grasses.

Photobucket

Disclaimer: Bloom Day post effectively ends here. All photos after this point are not of my garden.

Continue reading

Posted in agaves, woody lilies, Bloom Day, garden ornament, garden travel, garden visit, plant nurseries, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Natural Discourse at UCBG opens 7/14/12

For the past several months, I’ve been following the development of Natural Discourse, the collaboration of artists with the University of California Botanical Garden at Berkeley, and now we can see the outcome of their efforts at the official opening this Saturday, July 14, 2012. Not to be missed if you’re in the Bay Area this weekend. Ongoing through January 20, 2013.


Photobucket


Posted in garden travel, garden visit, MB Maher | Tagged , | 1 Comment

gardenbrain

I will be forever indebted to *Eric Liu and Nick Hannauer for coining the word “Gardenbrain” in their op-ed in the 7/10/12 edition of The New York TimesThe Machine and the Garden.” I’ve always had one. Turns out our economy needs one too. One of the best reads I’ve had in weeks. Rather than recirculating the same cliched buzz words for our economic woes, the writers show how “We are prisoners of the metaphors we use.”


Photobucket

The Machinebrain metaphor yields a picture of the world “where markets are perfectly efficient, humans perfectly rational, incentives perfectly clear and outcomes perfectly appropriate.” When we refer to economic “engines” and “fueling” the economy, that choice of metaphor impedes understanding because “economies, as social scientists now understand, aren’t simple, linear and predictable, but complex, nonlinear and ecosystemic. An economy isn’t a machine; it’s a garden. It can be fruitful if well tended, but will be overrun by noxious weeds if not.”

Government spending is not a single-step transaction that burns money as an engine burns fuel; it’s part of a continuous feedback loop that circulates money. Government no more spends our money than a garden spends water or a body spends blood. To spend tax dollars on education and health is to circulate nutrients through the garden.”

Wise regulation…is how human societies turn a useless jungle into a prosperous garden.”

Gardenbrain — what a fruitful metaphor. Nice potful of gears too…



*Authors of “The Gardens of Democracy: A New American Story of Citizenship, the Economy and the Role of Government.”

Posted in books, essay, pots and containers | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

talk to me about the weather

When I was a callow youth, a period of uncertain beginning and dubious ending, if all you could talk about was the weather, you had my sympathy. (Possibly you also had my barely concealed disdain as well as sympathy. I was that callow.) Weather conversation was a fallback adults used to avoid discussing all the unpleasant things their jobs and kids were doing to them and/or betrayed a woeful lack of imagination. Now I think and talk about the weather constantly, and not just my own local weather but, for example, the disastrous state of the Mid West’s corn crop from drought and the unprecedented heat in the continental and eastern U.S.


Photobucket

Since my middle-age years have no resemblance whatsoever to the same period in my parents’ lives, or so I like to believe (just as they once liked to believe), I chalk this weather fixation up to the Internet and its plethora of garden blogs and forums. There are so many more stick pins on my map of people and places to wonder and worry about, mainly due to the gardens I’ve come to know via the Internet. This summer I’ve got a corn crop of my own, if a crop can be had with just three plants, all from seed Nan Ondra generously offered for SASE last fall. (Zea mays ‘Tiger Cub.’) I won’t be eating this corn. It’s grown for those beautifully variegated leaves, not the cobs. Making a garden is often typecast as an escapist, tra-la-la pursuit, and there is thankfully plenty of tra-la-la to be had, but the more I learn about gardens, the more I sense that they are also outposts where the sky and land are vigilantly scanned by the sentry on duty, who is the first to note when the fruit trees’ crop is ruined by a freakishly late cold snap after being cajoled into early growth by an unseasonably mild winter. Reading the reports of the many sentries on duty, I’m coming to the sobering, middle-aged realization that weather talk is not just idle chatter anymore.


Posted in edibles, Occasional Daily Weather Report, Plant Portraits, science | Tagged | 12 Comments

Lotus jacobaeus’ nonstop summer concert

a summer garden is a lot like an outdoor jazz concert, the surprising improvisations and unexpected solos. I checked past Bloom Day posts, and this nearly black-flowered lotus started its nonstop performance back in January. This short-lived perennial for zones 9-11 is endemic to the Cape Verde Islands off the coast of West Africa, islands of volcanic origin uninhabited at the time of Portuguese colonization in the 15th century. Average rainfall around 10 inches.


PhotobucketPhotobucket

Surrounding players are key. This legume’s pea-like flowers are so dark that they’ll disappear without a lighter backdrop. The upright spears of the Sencecio anteuphorbium are providing some structure for the twiggy, sprawling habit of the lotus, and the senecio’s jade-colored leaves are a good color foil too.

PhotobucketPhotobucket


From the Wikipedia entry on the Cape Verde Islands: “Average daily high temperatures range from 25 °C (77 °F) in January to 29 °C (84.2 °F) in September. Cape Verde is part of the Sahelian arid belt, with nothing like the rainfall levels of nearby West Africa. It does rain irregularly between August and October, with frequent brief-but-heavy downpours. A desert is usually defined as terrain which receives less than 250 mm (9.8 in) of annual rainfall. Cape Verde’s total (261 mm/10.3 in) is slightly above this criterion, which makes the area climate semi-desert.”

One of the most famous summer jazz performances of all time was coincidentally by another of Cape Verdean heritage, Paul Gonsalves, who played tenor sax for Duke Ellington. At the Newport Jazz Festival in 1956, Gonsalves electrified the crowd with a tour de force solo in Ellington’s “Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue,” over 20-something choruses of blistering sax. Have a listen and a good read about the performance too. Happy weekend!




Posted in plant crushes, Plant Portraits, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

salvias, large and small

Two salvias new to my garden, both in bloom this first week of July.

Looking at these photos, I can easily imagine a response of: You’re kidding. Those washed-out things? So what?
Why I find certain plants appealing is a perpetual mystery, but a possible clue is the element of surprise that reseeders add to a garden. Surprise and also a snug sense of community as they return in new configurations with other self-sowers, until that fine day when you wake up to find you’ve created your own idiosyncratic chapparal/meadow. This salvia has the same rugged, big-leaved stature and similar culture requirements of verbascum. I’ve tried to establish this infamously reseeding biennial salvia in my garden for many years, whether by seed or by bringing in plants. Never a single bloom until this year. Either they’re planted too deep in a border and are swamped, and/or the slugs get them. (Perhaps fall planting was a mistake, though conventional wisdom is to get biennials planted late summer/fall for bloom the next summer.) This Salvia sclarea ‘Piemont’ is from Annie’s Annuals & Perennials, planted this spring, a nice airy location provided by removing a few more pathway bricks for optimal breathing room. Compared to AA&P’s website photo, the coloring on mine does look slightly anemic. But it’s a start, and hopefully variations in seedlings will bring better color. Plus, look at those leaves and star presence among grasses.

PhotobucketPhotobucket


And now for the small salvia, less than 6 inches tall, Salvia taraxicifolia, the Dandelion Sage, a perennial salvia found at the Huntington Botanical Gardens plant sale in spring. If I hadn’t decided to give the golden oregano a clip, I wouldn’t have noticed it was in bloom. Whether that makes a plant charming or irrelevant is a matter of personal taste.


Hope it reseeds.

Photobucket


Posted in plant crushes, plant nurseries, Plant Portraits | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

crocosmia

Thin stands of crocosmia are what’s left of the formerly generous clumps of fast-thickening cultivars with names like ‘Star of the East,’ ‘Solfatarre,’ ‘George Davidson.’ They pop up now as anonymous singletons in surprising locations every year, always some shade of orange, always signalling that things are really going to start heating up temperature-wise, color-wise, every-wise imaginable. There was a time long ago when the appearance of crocosmia and the lighting of summer’s orange torch in the garden caused some mild unease about its color-wheel effects on, for example, crimson Persicaria amplexicaulis. Now I just call such effects…summertime.


PhotobucketPhotobucket


Posted in Bulbs, design, Plant Portraits | Tagged , | 2 Comments

plant crushes

New plant crushes developed since visiting the Huntington Botanical Gardens on Saturday.

For frost-free zones 10-11, from Mexico, South America, Jatropha multifida. Easy from seed, fast growing, drought tolerant shrub or small tree. Spectacular coral flowers give it the common name Coral Tree. Like two others in the Euphorbiaceae, Euphorbia cotinifolia and the manihots, it might be worth trying even where tender as a summer tropical. Furcraea as a backdrop is a nice touch too. I saw this large specimen in the Desert Garden greenhouse after I’d already passed up a small rooted cutting on the sale tables at the CCSA plant sale at the Huntington over the weekend.


jatropha multifida

Also in the Desert Garden greenhouse was this mesmerizing, Medusa’s-head of a tillandsia, maybe T. xerographica.

Photobucket

Agave ‘Snow Glow,’ white-margined, variegated form of Agave ‘Blue Glow,’ the wildly successful hybrid of Agave attenuata and Agave ocahui.
A little over my budget though. Gratifying in a perverse way to see jacaranda bloom debris trapped on many of the spines and leaves of the plants for sale. Just like home.

Photobucket

I was surprised and thrilled to find so many cool pelargoniums at the show, like this caffrum hybrid ‘Diana,’ whose flowers remind me of a lewisia.

Photobucket

For stunning photos of a mature plant in bloom, go here.

Not too sure how I feel about this variegated opuntia, and so far I haven’t met a variegated plant yet I didn’t like.

variegated opuntia

Temps weren’t probably much over 90 degrees at the Huntington on Saturday, but by noon I was wilting, dissolving.

Photobucket

Sending out heartfelt sympathy to those suffering through the recent heat wave and power outages in the Eastern U.S.

Photobucket


Posted in agaves, woody lilies, garden visit, plant crushes, Plant Portraits, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Friday clippings 6/29/12

Lobelia tupa from Chile is blooming for the first time in my garden, thereby making everything right again with the world. Long time coming, Ms. Tupa. The color on the lobelia is deeper than salmon but slightly less intense than tomato red. Pure and unmuddied. Don’t crowd her and give her lots of compost. 4 feet tall now but still a young plant. Seems to be a late-summer bloomer everywhere else in her favored digs of zone 8 and warmer.


Photobucket

I had an enormous Agave bovicornuta growing here last year. Big mistake, for both me and the agave, whose leaves were spotting brown from the relatively higher levels of irrigation in the back garden, while my forearms were spotting red from the frequent piercings from its formidable spines. Never should have been planted in a part of the garden I change up so often. Its rapid speed of growth did catch me off guard. For old time’s sake, a photo of the agave from last year. Was that cowhorn agave purdy.

Photobucket

Petunia integrifolia axillaris (“Wild White Petunia”) has started to reseed about, which is always the game plan. Tough and fragrant.
The mother-ship plant came from Annie’s Annuals & Perennials.

Photobucket

Shrubby Teucrium betonicum, also from Annie’s, looks promising but would probably appreciate being moved out of the tough-love gravel garden.

Photobucket

The rolling tool cart is serving as a summer conservatory, changed out frequently with the potted plant du jour.

Photobucket

Moving the Lepismium cruciforme here into full sun will deepen its reddish coloration. I’m waiting for this trailing, epiphytic cactus from Argentina and Brazil to gain some heft and length before moving it to a hanging container. All those tiles I seem to accumulate make great pot trivets, and the glass interrupters are useful for holding down tablecloths in a breeze. Finding sensible purposes for irrational magpie acquisitions is so satisfying. Still haven’t identified the sedum in the foreground on the right.

PhotobucketPhotobucket

The stacked-leaf succulent is Portulaca molokiniensis from Hawaii, which shatters my childishly cliche notions about Hawaii’s plant life as one vast Rousseau’s jungle. I may need to take up my brother’s invitation for a visit one of these days.

Photobucket

Our early morning marine layer, aka the June Gloom, which I find anything but gloomy, is almost over. Dahlias just beginning.
In addition to ‘Chat Noir,’ I planted a couple other dahlias, for a grand total of three this year. They’re a tricky plant to fit into a tiny garden along with the other plants I enjoy growing, so three is really pushing it. Keeping them in pots in the garden border makes it easy to dial in their water and compost needs. Even with these maneuvers, I may end up moving them to my community vegetable plot since their needs are so similar to vegetables.

Photobucket

I mentioned my infatuation with expanded steel in a recent post, seen here in a little table I’ve had for some years.
If you can’t stop yourself from placing potted plants on outdoor tables, even to the point of ruining them, this is the way to go.
Containers drain right through the fretwork.

Photobucket

Southern California is a graveyard of machine shop detritus like these mysterious former agents of industry.

Photobucket

Time for another good prowl through the salvage yards. And the CSSA Annual Show & Sale at Huntington Botanical Gardens this weekend. All on just two days, cheated out of a long weekend by the 4th orphaned in the middle of next week.

Photobucket

Another entry from the Agaves I Have Loved and Lost department, this one taken in June last year of my now-departed Agave guadalajarana. Maybe I’ll find another one at the CSSA sale.

Photobucket

Posted in agaves, woody lilies, clippings, design, journal, Plant Portraits, pots and containers, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments