I don’t see this succulent for sale frequently, or in gardens very often for that matter. Got mine at the San Francisco Flower & Garden Show a couple years back, which coincidentally is opening next week, March 23-27, 2011. If I find it again, I might bring home another Senecio crassimus this year. Judging by the bruising and damage to its leaves, the pampered life of a container might be more suitable to this light shade-tolerant succulent. I’ll miss those purply stems and leaves alongside the path of the gravel garden rising up out of a carpet of Sedum rupestre ‘Angelina,’ but if I pot up the senecio with a small piece of ‘Angelina’ today to pair up these two again in a container, I should get a full chartreuse carpet in the pot, oh, in about a week. Dustin Gimbel has shared some S. rupestre ‘Lemon Coral’ with me, which he finds vastly superior to ‘Angelina,’ so I’ll be having a comparative growathon between the two this spring.
West Los Angeles Nursery Crawl
I don’t explore West Los Angeles and Santa Monica nearly enough, since getting there means battling some of the worst traffic in Southern California. But yesterday afternoon I had to work in the 1800 block of Sawtelle, roughly between Olympic and Santa Monica Boulevard. Leaving mid-day, the traffic was relatively thin, and I arrived early for my appointment, which was fortuitous since it left me 15 minutes to explore The Jungle, a small nursery located directly opposite the building I was working in. I had discovered this nursery in just such circumstances a couple times over the years, but in the frenetic haste of a workday timetable never noted the name or location. It was lovely to stumble on it again, always a thrill to combine work with plant trawling. It is tucked away tightly on its small lot amidst tall office buildings and, driving by, can easily be overlooked. But even if you’re distracted by West LA street life and inadvertently swiveling your gaze in the opposite direction as you drive by, you’d be clamping eyes on the Yamaguchi Bonsai Nursery just across the street from The Jungle. This little block of Sawtelle is the rarest of rarities, a street with not just one but three independent nurseries, including Hashimoto Nursery, which I didn’t have time to visit yesterday, all very small, but each with a distinctive eye and taste guiding nursery operations, such as these valances of Spanish moss as drapery for a wall of The Jungle’s greenhouse.
A display of ferns and Spanish moss were grown vertically in sculpted pockets of sphagnum moss against a large backboard, possibly of plywood.
And what self-respecting jungle doesn’t have fauna to go with its flora?
That first 15 minutes was the only time I’d get at The Jungle, which was closed when I was done with work and ready to head home a little before 5:00. I wanted to pop in before driving home to rethink passing up a variegated paddle plant, Kalanchoe ‘Fantastic,’ but was spared that agonizing deliberation. There was a large variegated Billbergia nutans, the bromeliad known as Queen’s Tears, that I wanted a second look at too. This little nursery caters to landscapers, and plants come in large (and expensive) sizes, though they had an excellent assortment of succulents in small sizes. Checking comments online, The Jungle reputedly has the best selection of bamboo on the Westside, but I didn’t have a chance for a good prowl and will have to return, next time ensuring the camera memory card is empty. I had enough foresight to bring a camera when heading to the Westside, but not enough to check the memory card, which was a few photos shy of full, so obtained just a couple photos.
With The Jungle closed, I headed to Yamaguchi Bonsai Nursery, still open just across the street, and spotted this through the chain-link fence (photos taken this morning in my garden). A restio I hadn’t seen before, Elegia fistulosa. The one that caught my eye was enormous, much more upright than my thamnochortus at home, with inflorescences so big that, from a distance, they had an effect almost of cattails. A gallon size was helpfully placed nearby, so I nabbed it.
This morning in my garden. Still very slender in size, the large one at Yamaguchi must have been at least three times this one’s diameter, bristling with blooms.
And then this lacy number on a shade bench caught my eye. Thalictrums are a fatal attraction for me in zone 10, fatal to the thalictrums, poor things, not that I torment trial many new ones these days. But this California native meadow-rue, Thalictrum fendleri var. polycarpum, Fendleri’s Meadow-rue, is reputedly drought tolerant when established. Positively Oudolfian in its post-bloom state. I believe the flowers would be yellow in color. Who knows why dessicated flowers were such an appeal that day. Just being contrary, I suppose, now that it’s spring.
This thalictrum came staked, a little over 2 feet in height, with typically gorgeous meadow-rue foliage.
It was while I deliberated over this thalictrum that I overheard a woman drive alongside the nursery, put it in neutral, and shout through the fence about a particular plant. A clerk affirmed, yes, they carried that plant (shiso/perilla), but she’d have to come inside. With the car still idling, the woman shouted back that she’d like two, please. “Ma’am, you’ll have to come inside!” Whereupon, the potential customer drove off in a huff. (Now, there’s an idea, drive-through nurseries!) Buying my two plants, I asked the clerk if we, meaning the great unwashed public, we’re really getting as bad as that incident would seem to indicate, and she rolled her eyes and recounted a few more horror stories.
The Jungle and Yamaguchi Bonsai Nursery have a fine selection of pots, all sizes. The nurseries of Yamaguchi and Hashimoto, like the remnants of cloud-pruned residential topiary still seen in Los Angeles, are vestiges of the time when Japanese immigrants filled the horticultural niche in Los Angeles, opening up the first Flower Market in Downtown Los Angeles in 1913. Yamaguchi’s seems to be less about bonsai now, but that emphasis, along with The Jungle’s landscaping focus, would seem to be clues to the survival of these small but excellent nurseries.
Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Citrus
Easily within reach from the driveway, but morally out of bounds.
I don’t want his bananas, just the citrus.
We inherited a large, scale-infested, whitefly-festooned lemon tree with this house. A couple years later, the giant whitefly, Aleurodicus dugesii, winged into town, and though it didn’t seem possible, the situation got even uglier. Ever since, I’ve been basically content to leave fruit tree growing to the experts. But on reflection, I think the tree was poorly sited by the original owner, in too much shade, causing an orgy of insect attacks, which evoked an unremitting sense of failure until the day the tree was gone. Still can’t make up my mind on home-grown citrus again. I think I’d still prefer another acacia.
Dear AGO
“Hi there, I love your blog..it is super informative and I am really impressed with it!
I have a question, my boyfriend bought me this plant and I have no idea what it is. I live in California but am not even sure if it is indigenous to this state.
Please help me…photo attached.
Krissi”
****
“Hi Krissi —
Love your ring!
Looks to me like your nice boyfriend bought you an iresine maybe. For a reference, compare it to some of the iresines on this page.
Whatever it is, it looks tropical and probably can’t take frost.
Thanks for your kind words about the blog.
Happy spring.”
****
“You are so sweet, thank you so much for your help!
So, last night my boyfriend spent about 3 hours trying to identify the plant…and became very excited after he discovered the zebra plant, thinking it must be ours. However, now that you are sending me this link, it could very well be an iresine. Do you know any way to be sure? What seems to be unique is this plant’s trunk, it is like a miniature tree because it’s base is brown and as thick as a finger.
Confused”
****
“Krissi, I’m going to post this mystery on my blog, with your photos and questions, later this week. Maybe we’ll get some more clues to its identity.
Hoping to banish confusion,
Denise”
****
And that’s the end of the email exchange. But what a boyfriend, bringing home a plant and then researching it for three hours! He’s a keeper for sure, Krissi. And I think aphelandra, aka The Zebra Plant, is a very good possibility, especially due to the thick trunk. If anyone can confirm or deny, please do.
Foliage Follow-Up March 2011
Hosted by Pam at Digging, getting things going with a shout-out for a luscious trifecta of agaves on her blog today.
My contribution today is a variety of the Heavenly Bamboo, Nandina domestica ‘Filamentosa,’ the first nandina I’ve ever purchased. (Nandina is a much-abused local landscape shrub.) And I’ve been inclined to think it was a silly purchase, but now I’m not so sure. It’s been bulking up over winter, the filigree leaves coloring and reddening. Also called Thread-Leaf Nandina. Planted under tetrapanax with golden carex and bergenia, with a couple Aster divaricatus included just this spring. All should be tough enough to contend with the tetrapanax. This nandina is slower growing and smaller than the species.
Bloom Day March 2011
Carol at May Dreams Gardens hosts this exciting monthly event, inspired by garden writer Elizabeth Lawrence’s urging that “We can have flowers nearly every month of the year.†Some days are so bleak, it seems astonishing that flowers could bloom at all, but indeed they always do. Some newer things in bloom in my garden here in Southern California, zone 10, a mile from the Pacific Ocean:
Geranium maderense ‘ Alba’ opened its first flowers this Bloom Day morning.
Variegated Solanum rantonnetii, now pruned into a standard, to cram more plants under its skirts. Amazingly long-blooming shrub.
Euphorbia mellifera
Shrublike Impatiens sodenii, flowers so sugary sweet they make my teeth ache. Bit of overkill by Mother Nature.
Anigozanthos, a good winter bloomer, with new blooms still coming for spring
Not in full bloom yet, just this one inflorescence on Echium gentianoides ‘Tajinaste.’ I shouldn’t have moved it a month ago. Oh, well.
Self-sown Nicotiana langsdorffii, seedlings found mostly in dry paving, where I pry them up and plant in the garden.
Ein passing by the poppies near the porch, Papaver setigerum
Thanks again to Carol and all the bloggers participating in this Bloom Day, whose blogs I’ll gratefully read while toggling back and forth between news reports about the crisis in Japan.
Dedicating my Bloom Day post to the good people of Japan.
(Huntington Botanical Gardens, Japanese Garden, photo from HBG site)
Something Borrowed, Something Blue
Good fences do make good neighbors. Good fences also make good plant barriers.
In this wisteria’s case, I doubt anyone can be held accountable for planting this mighty vine. I think the birds accomplished that for us.
My job is to keep it out of the smoke tree ‘Grace,’ full-time employment all summer.
Strategically seeded in a corner where four gardens intersect, the location of its main trunk a perpetual mystery, one neighbor keeps it out of his citrus, another from eating the shingles on his garage roof. And still another neighbor works tirelessly to keep it out of his tool shed.
I hope they’re not cursing me as they cut back its sneaky tendrils twice a week in summer. I did not unleash this vegetative behemoth.
Fences are the best defense, visually and physically, against a neighbor’s ill-chosen plants, amongst a laundry list of unsightly stuff. Including laundry.
(We do our laundry outdoors, as does our neighbor to the east. Our neighbor to the west moved his kitchen outdoors, not a satellite trophy kitchen for entertaining, but the main kitchen. The most amazing aromas of Vietnamese cuisine waft over that fence. I have no idea what the neighbors on the southern boundary are up to behind the 8-foot, creeping-fig covered wall, which is as it should be. As we clipped that fig-covered wall yesterday, the two of us attacking our side, the neighbor working on his side, a disembodied arm helpfully passed a beer over the top of the wall to speed us on our work. Good neighbor.)
Tulip Report/Queen of the Night
Sounds less zombie-ish in French: Reine de la Nuit
Amazingly long stems, over 2 feet, planted in a shallow bowl.
With ‘Double Beauty of Apeldoorn’
This will most likely be my final tulip report. A couple pots of bulbs had deformed flowers, short stems.
So the winners this year for tulips amenable to forcing, undergoing 6 weeks of prechilling for this zone 10 February/March display are:
Queen of the Night, Brown Sugar, and Double Beauty of Apeldoorn.
Mail-ordered from Bluestone Perennials in summer of 2010 for delivery in fall. Good price, excellent quality. Order in summer, July/August, for the best selection.
Upon arrival, stash bulbs in an empty vegetable crisper in the fridge. I always plant the bulbs the day after Thanksgiving, an easy date to remember.
The stunted losers were a grab bag of mixed bulbs bought at a local nursery, an impulse buy. An impulse to be resisted next year.
Cheap, easy fun, like doodling with crayons.
(Edited to add: ‘Apricot Beauty’ forces well, too, just wasn’t a personal favorite.)
Smellovision
Here it comes…
Did you get a whiff? No? Maybe scoot your chair just a bit closer.
Smellovision didn’t work so great in 1960 either. I cut this bunch of sweet peas last night from my mom’s first garden, a single raised bed we keep planted for her. Fresh spinach from the little garden for dinner too. The sweet peas were sown last fall, just a couple plants. (At age 82, my mom’s first sweet peas. I felt awful for selfishly prying this bunch away from her but recovered nicely as the scent filled the car on the ride home.) From a mixture by Renee’s Garden “Early Blooming Velvet Elegance,” a day-length neutral blend. They’ve been in bloom for over a month. The bi-colored lavender was a nice surprise.