Monday, March 19, 2012

Throwing Needles - well needle grasses - at the Garden.

A couple years ago I had the idea it would be fun to create a "river of grass" flowing down the chaparral slope to the road below, using a needlegrass. But nary a river nor even a trickle was to be. Maybe the topsoil layer there was too thin, or the slope too exposed and difficult to irrigate. This year I'm trying to grow needlegrasses in other locations, to learn where it is happy.

I have learned since trying the river of grass that two kinds of needlegrasses grow wild here: nodding needlegrass, Stipa cernua, and foothill needlegrass, Stipa lepida.

The needlegrasses were until recently known as part of the Nassella genus. The Latin name nassa means "wicker basket" or "net" But now Jepson has lumped them back into Stipa, whence they emerged some years back. Stipa is from the Greek for fibre.

I like the look of  nodding needlegrass a little better because it has longer awns - awns being the long "needles" on the seeds that give needlegrasses their name. So pretty how it catches the light.



 Foothill needlegrass awns are about an inch to an inch and a half and don't weigh the panicle down.





And maybe foothill needlegrass can take more shade and is more adaptable. I see it for sale more, and I think I've seen more of it on our property. There is some on all the east and south east slopes where there is a additional shade from nearby trees at some time of the day, but some hours of mid-morning through early afternoon sunlight.



Las Pilitas Nursery has a useful page on Stipa cernua (and a very similar one on S. lepida)  There I read this tip:
I think in many of their habitats they regenerate only when there are ideal conditions that may occur only every 60-130 years. The Stipas occur throughout California in many plant communities. They do not form large solid stands except in 20-50 ft. clumps near seeps, but in most areas they stand as locus individuals.

For the bunch grasses to be stable long-term plant the Stipas at 3 ft. intervals with at least some of the wildflowers from the native community between the Stipa. If you can plant a perennial for every 5-10 Stipas all should be happy. If you want to plant an oak woodland with Stipas, plant them in the open areas between the evergreen oaks, and under the deciduous oaks.
So maybe one reason my river of grasses failed was the lack of  interplanted perennials?

To avoid confusion as much as anything, I've focused this year on growing  just the noddling needlegrass. Overall, both these grasses behave and look quite similar to each other, with nodding needlegrass preferring more sun.

Both germinate very readily. This year I have about six flats of seedlings to dispose of! On the native plant network, I read some quite complex propagation protocols involving stratification and so on - but I haven't had to do anything other than stick em in liners and water and wait a few weeks.


Both  are cool season grasses, so I sow in early fall, for bloom time around March and April, and on into early summer. When it's hot they do tend to dry out till the rains return. I think I'll try giving some of my test plants summer water to see if they stay a little greener.




This month, with all the lovely rain we've been having, I've been basically throwing needlegrass at the garden to see where it will stick, like a horticultural Jackson Pollock. It's fun to experiment, and see for myself what conditions they thrive in.

I've put some at the top of the north garden slope, in a fairly shady area. I've put it outside the greenhouse in full sun, between some deergrass I've got growing there (and late daffodils I planted just today!),



and in the bed opposite, near a coffeeberry that gives it a little shade, and in the succulent bed, next to the house.

I also tucked a few among the rocks on hummingbird hill, a south east facing slope that gets some shade from a nearby oak in front, and from my dad's cottage above. Also I'm scooping out little holes in containers and tucking some in along with monkeyflower and other things.

Basically, wherever there is a place a grass might go. And I'm not done yet. It will be nice if it grows on slopes, because it has deep and fibrous roots, good for erosion control.

I'm also saving some to share with friends, and I'm donating a flat of them to the Santa Cruz CNPS plant sale, April 21. But I'll be planting more out next weekend to be sure.

Rabbits have munched quite a few of them down to about two inches. But the ones protected behind rabbit fences are doing fine.

The native purple chalice clarkia, Clarkia purpurea, is another local native I've started a lot of and am also popping them in the ground here there and everywhere. I'm hoping it will like to grow among the needlegrass - that would be pretty.
When I was looking for some ethnobotanical info, the only info I found was on the site of the Mauna Kea Visitor Information Station, in Hawaii. I find it ironic that our native needlegrass has been introduced as an exotic in Hawaii:
Stipa cernua, an introduced grass native to California, can be found growing around the Visitor Information Station (VIS) on Mauna Kea. Stipa cernua is a very drought tolerant grass, used by some landscapers on the Mainland in xeriscape installations. It is said that Native Americans in California used to burn Stipa cernua in the mountains to facilitate its regrowth of tender young shoots which they then harvested and ate.
I'm sure somewhere on my property, nodding needlegrass will take hold and live for its reputed 100 year lifespan (so I read somewhere). And then I will know something, and I'll be very happy -- and I'll turn my attention to learning where foothill needlegrass likes to dwell.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Bouquets to Art, Part 2


In yesterday's blog about Bouquets to Art, the amazing event at the de Young I visited on Thursday, I showed bouquets to sculpture and paintings on the second floor. Today, I'll show a few bouquets from the first flow. Let's start with the walkway to the de Young elevator to the tower, which is described on the deYoung website like this:.

The magnificent Hamon Observation Tower provides unparalleled panoramic views of San Francisco, the Pacific Ocean, Marin headlands and the lovely landscape of Golden Gate Park. The Tower is the perfect space for a cocktail hour to kick off your reception, or for an intimate wedding and reception.

When there isn't a wedding reception, the public can ride the elevator up to the tower and enjoy the views. On Thursday, the views were somewhat foggy, but the beautiful bouquet that mirrors the view of the tree fern in the garden (above) was quite breathtaking.

If you have a chance to go, you'll find that the waiting area for the elevator includes intriguing wire sculptures -- and on Thursday, several bouquets mirrored the sculptures.

 
Only now, looking at the photo, do I wonder whether the red flowers mirror the fire alarm or whatever red contraption is visible on the wall in the back.

Because, this must be said, many of the bouquets were a little tongue in cheek. Here's a bouquet that's a riff on a photo.


And here's the photo.


So, you wonder what says "Fresh" better, the photo or the glorious orchids? I'll leave it to you to decide.


Other bouquets were true reflections, thoughtfully composed, holding the spirit of the photo and making it three dimensional.

I was particularly impressed by the bouquet to the Rothko painting below. It's one of those paintings where, forgive me for saying this, I wonder whether I couldn't do this myself. A few squares of color. Nice, but...

But I know I couldn't do the bouquet.  I mean, just look at it. Clever in its three-dimensionality, great use of color.


I mean, just look at it! And yet, so soon gone...


And that's the essence of what makes this event so special in my mind. It is glorious, exciting, and so soon gone. I so enjoyed watching the many women (OK, maybe there were 10% men there that day) walking around laughing, pointing, clearly excited by it all. It wasn't what you usually find in a museum, where voices are subdued, kids are told to hush, and the mood is somber.

And yet, look at these mesoamerican terracotta pieces. Lovely, colorful, around for many centuries.


Then look at the bouquet, one of my favorites. The chalky surface of the succulents mirrors the sculptures, the colors are a perfect mirror. The shapes resonate with each other. One will be here for centuries more, we would hope. The other will be dismantled tomorrow. But how sweet to have seen it!

Friday, March 16, 2012

Bouquets to Art


We're interrupting our regular program of exciting news about native plants in our gardens (and elsewhere) for a brief sojourn into the world of art. Yes, dear friends, I had the great pleasure yesterday of visiting the deYoung museum's annual Bouquets to Art event, and it was totally spectacular. Over 150 floral designers present a bouquet to a piece of art, matching the mood, the colors, the shape, or all of that. Above, one of the bouquets that did have a California native included (California buckeye branches, just leafing out).

And here the painting that inspired the bouquet. I loved the play on shape and colors!



Even more surprising was this painting.


Being a lover of strong color and decisive shapes, I would have walked right by this. But look at the bouquet that captures the wintery mood.


And just look at the close-up, the amazing attention to detail, the play on white a gray, with just a little green. 


Equally intriguing were some bouquets offered to pieces of sculpture. The puma bronze in the upstairs hallway is beautiful, but I'm not sure I would have stopped in my tracks to admire it.


This bouquet, however, certainly did. The floral artist talked in here description about the black cat seducing the puma. And yes, black (or close to black) flowers created a mysterious place for the cat to lie in wait, with a small bouquet of red roses as an offer to the puma.


I especially liked bouquets like this one, where the floral artist did not just follow the lead of the art, but added a totally new dimension. And can you believe that face (made from plant materials, of course)?


Black flowers were also central to this painting, which was close to the two beautiful cats.


 See how the shades of green and maroon echo the painting? How the corkscrew shapes in the bouquet are following the shapes on the canvas?


Some bouquets were amazingly simple, like this bouquet to a painting of Abraham's intended sacrifice of his son.  In the painting, a scene of desolation with two large gray stones on which the sacrifice is to be performed (the painting is much longer than high), the photo mainly misses the upper frame. The bouquet uses dried tree mushrooms in desert-like shades of ochre, with two offset spindly succulents, the color of the stones in the painting but off center instead.


 The final bouquet from the upstairs gallery  was another clever riff on a sculpture. The sculture, with its sexy neckline and jaunty hips was so enjoyable.


But even better the bouquet, using primarily calla lillies and some hydrangeas in those little bulgy places.


Tomorrow, I'll do a second post with a few bouquets  from the downstairs galleries. I'm sorry the photos aren't more artistic. My friend and I first spent more than two hours just enjoying and admiring the bouquets, camera in pocket. Then, after a cup of tea, we spent maybe 20 minutes trying for a few unobtrusive photos. I do believe that seeing the art, getting close, using your eyes, not the camera, is essential. Then, maybe, a few photos to share. Enjoy!

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

GBBD - March in the Country Mouse Garden

The first half of March on the central coast of California was sunny and warm, which we enjoyed with a certain uneasiness. Now it's been raining for nearly two days solid and we're not so jolly maybe but are a lot more contented. The ground really needed a good soaking.

I have a few blooms to share, from the sunny spell. I've been too busy planting to take a lot of photos, and more is blooming than I'm showing here. The wild hound's tongue, Cynoglossum grande for one thing. Well, another day, another post.

Mostly what I've been busy putting in are local bunch grasses, and local clarkia, which I propagated a lot of. I figure I'll just throw a ton of them at the garden and see where they stick, and figure out why they like it one place rather than another.


With their tiny little blossoms and juicy leaves, redmaids, Calandria ciliata, are covering the whole area where I planted succulents this fall. I'm letting them take over except where I need to let a succulent breathe, or plant something else.
 

Argh the calla lilies are indomitable! But pretty. But they escape into the wild. Don't plant these unless you want them forever - and they don't escape your garden!


These sweet little violets Viola adunca, can come and stay any time, however. They are slowly spreading in one area, again near some succulents.


Dutchman's pipevine, Aristolochia californica, doesn't bloom much where I grow it, or leaf out as lushly as in Town Mouse's garden. I've started a few other plants in other parts of the garden to see what it does there. But the blooms are are fun to look at.


Ceanothus is the glory of March! This Dark Star bush is over five feet tall, and much wider than tall. The color is richer than the camera shows.


Jerusalem sage, non native, has been  blooming all winter, nice pale yellow blossoms, and so has Verbena lilacina 'De la Mina.' - What a great garden plant. Nursery bought native, doesn't grow natively around here. Very fragrant indeed.



The wildlife garden area (a planted terrace on the woodland side) is not as colorful this year, due to the dry weather. I have watered it every six weeks or so. But the western redbud there, Cercis occidentalis,  is starting to take hold. It's been small and wimpy for several years now. It seems to like the dryer weather. The fuchsia-flowered gooseberry is blooming more now than when I took this shot - but still less spectacular than during last year's wet spring. Guess you can't please all of the plants all of the time.


Here's the shot of my pet alum root, Heuchera micrantha. Still the only one blossoming. I took a couple of short hikes recently in some riparian areas - along the San Lorenzo river and Fall Creek, and saw masses of alum root - but no blossoms yet. So there's hope for my other ones. A lot of the alum root was growing  prettily mingled with redwood sorrel, Oxalis oregana. I took note: a nice garden companion planting.


Well, just to finish with a splash of color - this is close to what the ceanothus shrubs in bloom right now really do look like. Close up of a blossom.

Now I'm off to May Dreams Gardens to thank Carole and register my bloom day. I'll visit some gardens in the morning - it's off to sleep I go... But you can continue on to view Town Mouse's bloom day post - she is pretty in pink this month!

GBBD - Almost spring in the Town Mouse garden


It's hard to believe that spring is just around the corner, but as I went out into the garden this morning, the signs were everywhere. Above, Ribes sanguineum var. glutinosum, a native current, is still blooming its heart out. The flower clusters are not as spectacular as those of some of the cultivars, but for that this plant seems to thrive even in difficult conditions.


Pink seems to be the color of the moment, and I'm happy to report that two different cultivars of Sidalcea (checkerbloom) have started blooming. Near the fountain, a plant I bought last year from Gold Rush Nursery with dainty little flowers of maybe an inch across.


And right across in more sun the more substantial species, maybe 2 inches across and with larger leaves, shown below next to a Cotyledon and some Clarkia seedlings. Both Sidalcea go completely summer dormant and sprout leaves and eventually flowers during the rainy season.


 Further in the shade, the redwood sorrel is struggling mightily to cope with the distressing lack of rain. I've started some hand watering, but there's nothing like a good soaking. Unfortunately, a recent storm that brought 2-6 inches of rain to San Francisco and the North Bay did not result in any measurable rainfall in my garden. Regardless, I'm hoping that with just a little more watering I can tide over my redwood sorrel for a little longer. But it's clear that down here close to the bay is not the native habitat of redwoods or redwood sorrel - both are used to much more rain.



But we also have some red, the Abutilon I bought at the farmer's market a few months ago seems to be settling in nicely and it's already getting frequent visits from the hummingbirds.


An Salvia brandegii 'Pacific Blue' is still showing of beautiful blue flower clusters (and I love the fragrance of the leaves).


And finally, the ultimate harbingers of spring, a few daffodils that I planted a long time ago but that seem to like their spot. Somehow I ended up with my focus on the new attractive succulent I aquired, but it's the thought that counts.


Also blooming are Hardenbergia 'Happy Wanderer', Berberis, several other manzanita, the first Phacelia, Tecomaria capensis, and the tea tree. On the almost blooming list we have several bulbs and Heuchera. 

And now, I'm almost ready to head over to Carol at May Dreams Gardens and see what's blooming elsewhere in the world. Seeing the first spring blooms is always a lot of fun. Thanks Carol!

Sunday, March 11, 2012

California Native Gardening: A Month-By-Month Guide


Every once in a while, a book comes long that is so perfect, I get copies for all my friends. Just released, Helen Popper's California Native Gardening: A Month-By-Month Guide is such a rare treat. Just look at the cover (cover image from University of California Press, the publisher) and start dreaming about the different seasons in the garden. Then open the book and you're hooked.

A great complement to some of the existing reference-focused books, such as California Native Plants for the Garden, Helen's focus is on what to do in the garden through the year. Bookended by some great introductory material and very helpful appendixes, each chapter has a focus on one month in the garden. For that month, Helen tells use on a summary page the main jobs for that month. I especially like that she includes a lot of information about when to water, what to water, and how much to water. And I'm also expecting to return repeatedly to Helen's advice on when to sow wildflowers and take cuttings.


But in addition to the great organization and sound advice, I just love reading this book for the poetry of the descriptions. Here's a short excerpt from the March "What's in Bloom" section:

"Early spring brings the bright orange blooms of the bush monkeyflower (Mimulus aurantiacus, M. longiflorus) to the Transverse Range. An adaptable, short-lived perennial, the bush monkeflower is often used in revegetation projects. It is a larval host to the common checkerspot butterfly and it provides nectar to bees and hummingbirds....Near the Delta, blue flowers grace the arching stems of hounds tounge (Cynoglossum grande) under an oak. Swatches of bright yellow Jonny jump-ups (viola penduculata) and of baby blue-eyes (Nemophila menziesii) stretch along the edge of the tree's canopy..."

Pages like that make it abundantly clear that this book is not just a dry academic treatise, but was written by a plant lover for other plant lovers, by a California native plant enthusiast for other enthusiasts or those who are waiting to become enthusiasts.


Quite possibly the best part of the book, are the photos. Full-color illustrations, a whole page for each month and many more throughout the book, show propagation techniques, design ideas, and plants, often in a garden setting. The quality of the photos is consistently great, and only at second glance does one realize that many different photographers have contributed to the book. Many of the photos were taken by Helen herself, but a few are by Saxon Holt, Judy Kramer, and others.

The last chapter of the book discusses garden styles with many practical suggestions, and also has a table of cutting times, a list of places to see native plants, and "Good Friends on the Bookshelf".

I'm hoping that the book will be available at the upcoming San Francisco Flower and Garden Show, or you can order a copy through your local bookstore. This friend on your bookshelf will be there with good advice all through the year. Have fun!