Many gardeners lead elemental lives, working as we do with Earth (soil), Water (rain), Air (fresh or otherwise) and Fire (sun). These each in their own way figure into the prosperity (or difficulties) in our gardens. Today, it is Water and Air that are on my mind. No question what the Water element refers to, as those of us in the Bay Area are being inundated with rain. Today the Air element refers to Air plants, better known as Tillandsias. We have been selling a lot of them at our Grand Lake Ace nursery, I've been using them in XMas gift terrariums and my own collection continues to grow. So to celebrate this versatile bromeliad, here are photos of a variety of species, some taken of individual plants and a few shown in artistic creations. These photos are all from the web.
T. butzii. One of the easier air plants to find, this simple but beguiling species makes a great upright plant for a terrarium
T. fuchsii. I'm not familiar with this one but I love the look and the way it was photographed here. It reminds me a bit of my T. tectorum (see below) because of its wispy 'branches.'
T. funkiana. This colorful little guy is indeed bringing the funk! Love its delicate foliage then the bright, bright flowers.
T. ionantha. Possibly the most common of all tillandsias, nonetheless this guy blooms readily and is really colorful.
T. oaxacana. As the species name implies, this beauty hails from Oaxaca Mexico. I love the silver and pink combination.
Tillandsia recurvata. Here's an interesting way to use tillandsias. They've simply been attached to what looks like a fence-like structure and are growing there. Lovely.
T. ionantha rubra. Again, the variety name is self explanatory. This specimen has almost finished blooming (can you spot the tubular purple flowers?). It's always a nice bonus when the foliage on a particular tillandsia adds a bit of color.
T. acostae. This hardy, stiff-leaved species is found from Mexico south to El Salvador. Here we see the 'spears,' which have yet to open their flowers.
T. stricta hard form. Tillandsia stricta is one of the most popular of all tillandsias. This picture illustrates why. It's easy to grow and a prolific bloomer. Many mature tillandsias form these large masses, which when they eventually bloom, put on quite a show.
Oops, wrong picture. No, just kidding. This is T. usneoides, sometimes call the goat's beard tillandsia for its cascading lichen-like structure. Easy to grow, it's a great way to add texture to one's garden or art display.
T. utricularia. I couldn't find out much about this fabulous species, except that it may grow in the Florida everglades. Anyone know more?
Tillandsia wreath. Here's one way to express one's creativity. Whether displayed during the holidays or at any other time of the year, this kind of wreath is fun and easy to make.
T. xerographica. One of the most unique, and largest, of the tillandsias, Xerographicas make an immediate statement with their silvery, wide, recurved leaves. The larger ones can get immense, up to two feet across.
Here's another artistic creation using tillandsias. This was fashioned using a branch of grapewood. Air plants may be safely fixed to various surfaces using Liquid Nails or Wood glue.
T. bergii. One of the easiest air plants to grow, Tillandsia bergii will eventually form a long chain. There is no end to the ways you can secure air plants to surfaces, as this photo demonstrates.
Here's another clump of Tillandsia ionantha. This clump looks to have been started on (secured to) a chain link fence.
Tillandsia art installation, Bardessono Hotel, Napa Valley CA. Designed by Flora Grubb and Seth Boor and constructed by SmithBuilt, this wall sculpture makes a fabulous artistic statement.
T. stricta making itself at home in a sea urchin. Simple but elegant!
T. tectorum. One of my favorite tillandsias and one that is fabulous to gaze upon even when not in bloom, this silver spidery tillandsia is too fabulous for words.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Friday, January 1, 2016
Winter visitors
For gardeners, winter can be a slow period. Fortunately for those of us who are also bird lovers, winter is the prime season for viewing both common year round birds as well as winter-only visitors. Here are a few of the regular visitors to my garden this time of year. One could easily add more but I had to stop somewhere.
Winter is the time the American goldfinches show up. As is the case for many birds, the males are more brightly colored. For this bird, the males also sport the distinctive black spot on their forehead. Goldfinches love nyjer or thistle seed, which you can stock in either the appropriate tube feeder or in a mesh thistle sock. One good thing here is that squirrels are not interested in nyjer seed as it's too tiny. Goldfinches are such avaricious feeders that they'll keep feeding while you're a mere 10' away!
Our most consistent hummingbird in the Bay Area is the brightly colored Anna's hummingbird. When the sun reflects just right on their heads and throats bird lovers are treated to striking rose-pink colors. Larger than our other Bay Area hummer (Allen's), and more colorful, these guys will often hang around the entire year in milder zones. And of course we are treated to the male's unique courtship rituals and territorial squabbles with other males.
I often hear Bewick's Wrens before I spot them. A friend has described their call as the 'sound of a doorbell buzzer', a sort of "zzzztt, zzzztt" sound. They're easily ID'd by the upright tails and the overall coloring. They're a bit shy so it may take awhile to spot them.
Everybody knows this little fellow, the Chestnut-backed chickadee. So fast that you don't actually see it fly from a nearby tree to a bird feeder and then back, these birds are highly social and fearless. Many an experienced (and patient) birder has reported training them to eat seed out of their hands. And they have that lovely call -- chicka-dee-dee, chicka-dee-dee. They live year round here and are common sights at bird feeders.
Downy woodpecker. These guys are always such a treat when they come calling. They're after insects beneath the bark of trees (thus the hammering to excavate). They tend to show up in winter and if you have a suet feeder, that's their favorite non-insect food. Not all that big, a modest 7" in length, they can be a bit elusive and irregular in their visiting habits.
For perhaps the most common bird at people's feeders, the House finch sure is a colorful and pretty bird. Not fussy about what they eat, they prefer seeds of all kinds, they are quick to come to feeders once the chow's been put out. More industrious than you might think, they're experts at finding all manner of foods.
I'm lucky to have Northern flickers in my neighborhood. They're a fairly large bird and are distinctively patterned. Once you've ID'd this handsome guy you won't forget him. He's fond of insects, meaning you'll see him on the ground hunting worms and other nutritious insects.
Oaktits get my vote for the best combination of humorous looks and deadly efficiency. They're expert seed crackers, holding, say, a sunflower seed between its toes then hammering away at it with its beak. Just as fast as chickadees, they don't linger at feeders, zipping over to snatch a seed and then zooming back to the safety of a branch. Ounce for ounce one tough little character!
Perhaps our most frequent city hawk, Red-tails are both fearless hunters and surprisingly patient. They'll sometimes sit in a tree for 5-10 minutes at a time, surveying the scene. One of our larger hawks, with a body up to 25" and a wingspan approaching six feet, red-tails are simply magnificent birds. They show up in November and usually hang around till February, though they have been known to stay longer.
Ahh, the lowly sparrow. There are of course many kinds of sparrows around these parts and it's fun to try to ID which is which. Seed eaters like the finches they are comfortable hanging out with, sparrows live here year round. Once you take a closer look (and put out of your mind that they're common), they're actually pretty birds.
Swainson's Thrush. These guys are more common than you might think but the combination of the way their plumage blends into tree branches and their shy nature means we don't always notice them. They're known for their pretty song so sometimes you hear them first.
This may look a bit like a goldfinch of some sort but it's actually a Yellow-rumped warbler. Their superficial resemblance to goldfinches, especially as they flit by, means that we don't always realize that it's this cute warbler coming to our hummingbird feeders for a drink. As usual, males are more colorful than the females. They're usually around just for the winter.
Below is a handsome fellow indeed, the Northern Mockingbird. I'm lucky to have a family of them return to my street each year. They're especially recognizable in flight, where their white wing patches flash in the sun. They're primarily fruit eaters and I always see them on my neighbor's Persimmon tree, helping themselves. Once you've had mockingbirds you never forget. The males are famous, or infamous depending on your POV, for their amazingly varied - and LOUD - calls, which typically start at dusk. Which means they can still be 'singing' at 10 pm. Loudly. They come by their name honestly, being able to mimic (or mock) nearly every sound they hear. And if Endurance Singing were ever an Olympic sport, mockingbirds would take home the Gold. Many a human I'm sure has been tempted to open their window at 11 pm and yell "She's (female mockingbird) not listening. Shut the hell up!"
Perhaps America's most iconic bird (sorry bald eagle), the American robin is a familiar winter and spring sight. They too love worms and insects so you'll see them on the ground hunting for anything that wiggles.
Love 'em or hate 'em, Scrub jays aren't going anywhere so we may as well enjoy their brilliant blue foliage. Jays belong to the Corvidae family, a group of birds that include crows, ravens, jays, magpies and nutcrackers. Members of this family are exceedingly smart birds, even able to learn how to use tools. I put out unshelled peanuts on my kitchen ledge every morning and sometimes I see one or more jays sitting in the tree watching me, waiting on breakfast.
No mistaking this iconic bird, the Cedar Waxwing. Okay, here's a trick question: why is this not a representative photo of this species? And the simple answer is that they always travel in flocks. That can be as few as a half dozen or as many as 100. They're very social birds and are of course berry eaters. I have a holly tree next door and they find those berries irresistible. They don't seem to mind the old joke "Who was that masked bandit."
Winter is the time the American goldfinches show up. As is the case for many birds, the males are more brightly colored. For this bird, the males also sport the distinctive black spot on their forehead. Goldfinches love nyjer or thistle seed, which you can stock in either the appropriate tube feeder or in a mesh thistle sock. One good thing here is that squirrels are not interested in nyjer seed as it's too tiny. Goldfinches are such avaricious feeders that they'll keep feeding while you're a mere 10' away!
Our most consistent hummingbird in the Bay Area is the brightly colored Anna's hummingbird. When the sun reflects just right on their heads and throats bird lovers are treated to striking rose-pink colors. Larger than our other Bay Area hummer (Allen's), and more colorful, these guys will often hang around the entire year in milder zones. And of course we are treated to the male's unique courtship rituals and territorial squabbles with other males.
I often hear Bewick's Wrens before I spot them. A friend has described their call as the 'sound of a doorbell buzzer', a sort of "zzzztt, zzzztt" sound. They're easily ID'd by the upright tails and the overall coloring. They're a bit shy so it may take awhile to spot them.
Everybody knows this little fellow, the Chestnut-backed chickadee. So fast that you don't actually see it fly from a nearby tree to a bird feeder and then back, these birds are highly social and fearless. Many an experienced (and patient) birder has reported training them to eat seed out of their hands. And they have that lovely call -- chicka-dee-dee, chicka-dee-dee. They live year round here and are common sights at bird feeders.
Downy woodpecker. These guys are always such a treat when they come calling. They're after insects beneath the bark of trees (thus the hammering to excavate). They tend to show up in winter and if you have a suet feeder, that's their favorite non-insect food. Not all that big, a modest 7" in length, they can be a bit elusive and irregular in their visiting habits.
For perhaps the most common bird at people's feeders, the House finch sure is a colorful and pretty bird. Not fussy about what they eat, they prefer seeds of all kinds, they are quick to come to feeders once the chow's been put out. More industrious than you might think, they're experts at finding all manner of foods.
I'm lucky to have Northern flickers in my neighborhood. They're a fairly large bird and are distinctively patterned. Once you've ID'd this handsome guy you won't forget him. He's fond of insects, meaning you'll see him on the ground hunting worms and other nutritious insects.
Oaktits get my vote for the best combination of humorous looks and deadly efficiency. They're expert seed crackers, holding, say, a sunflower seed between its toes then hammering away at it with its beak. Just as fast as chickadees, they don't linger at feeders, zipping over to snatch a seed and then zooming back to the safety of a branch. Ounce for ounce one tough little character!
Perhaps our most frequent city hawk, Red-tails are both fearless hunters and surprisingly patient. They'll sometimes sit in a tree for 5-10 minutes at a time, surveying the scene. One of our larger hawks, with a body up to 25" and a wingspan approaching six feet, red-tails are simply magnificent birds. They show up in November and usually hang around till February, though they have been known to stay longer.
Ahh, the lowly sparrow. There are of course many kinds of sparrows around these parts and it's fun to try to ID which is which. Seed eaters like the finches they are comfortable hanging out with, sparrows live here year round. Once you take a closer look (and put out of your mind that they're common), they're actually pretty birds.
Swainson's Thrush. These guys are more common than you might think but the combination of the way their plumage blends into tree branches and their shy nature means we don't always notice them. They're known for their pretty song so sometimes you hear them first.
This may look a bit like a goldfinch of some sort but it's actually a Yellow-rumped warbler. Their superficial resemblance to goldfinches, especially as they flit by, means that we don't always realize that it's this cute warbler coming to our hummingbird feeders for a drink. As usual, males are more colorful than the females. They're usually around just for the winter.
Below is a handsome fellow indeed, the Northern Mockingbird. I'm lucky to have a family of them return to my street each year. They're especially recognizable in flight, where their white wing patches flash in the sun. They're primarily fruit eaters and I always see them on my neighbor's Persimmon tree, helping themselves. Once you've had mockingbirds you never forget. The males are famous, or infamous depending on your POV, for their amazingly varied - and LOUD - calls, which typically start at dusk. Which means they can still be 'singing' at 10 pm. Loudly. They come by their name honestly, being able to mimic (or mock) nearly every sound they hear. And if Endurance Singing were ever an Olympic sport, mockingbirds would take home the Gold. Many a human I'm sure has been tempted to open their window at 11 pm and yell "She's (female mockingbird) not listening. Shut the hell up!"
Perhaps America's most iconic bird (sorry bald eagle), the American robin is a familiar winter and spring sight. They too love worms and insects so you'll see them on the ground hunting for anything that wiggles.
Love 'em or hate 'em, Scrub jays aren't going anywhere so we may as well enjoy their brilliant blue foliage. Jays belong to the Corvidae family, a group of birds that include crows, ravens, jays, magpies and nutcrackers. Members of this family are exceedingly smart birds, even able to learn how to use tools. I put out unshelled peanuts on my kitchen ledge every morning and sometimes I see one or more jays sitting in the tree watching me, waiting on breakfast.
No mistaking this iconic bird, the Cedar Waxwing. Okay, here's a trick question: why is this not a representative photo of this species? And the simple answer is that they always travel in flocks. That can be as few as a half dozen or as many as 100. They're very social birds and are of course berry eaters. I have a holly tree next door and they find those berries irresistible. They don't seem to mind the old joke "Who was that masked bandit."
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Happy Solstice!
As we approach the winter solstice, a 'calendar' that goes back literally thousands of years, it gives us an opportunity to reflect on our place in the natural world. No matter how many electronic gadgets we have or how big and modern our houses are, we are still tied to natural rhythms. In the very least we are governed by the length of the day and in three days we hit the shortest day of the year. Just as it's hard to appreciate four distinct seasons if you only have two (or even one), it's hard for us to fully appreciate the warmer and longer days of spring and summer without first experiencing the shorter and colder days of winter. Or to put it another way, don't hate the winter for being winter. Honor it and then also cherish the days as they get longer.
Now suspend that mutual honoring with the fact that Oakland and the Bay Area offer the opportunity to garden year round, a suspension of reality that most other parts of the country don't get to indulge in. It's a delicate suspension of two worlds but one I'll take. Today I wandered out into the garden, camera in hand, not expecting there to be much to photograph. But surprise, surprise there were a host of solstice visual treats that compelled me to photograph. Here they are and while none are about to win any photography awards anytime soon, it is a way of sharing my winter garden.
Front yard area. The S. African Osteospermum 'Voltage Yellow' thinks it's summer and is putting on a very cheerful show. To the right and in front is the new Coprosma 'Pina Colada.' They make a colorful winter pairing.
Luculia pinceana. This winter blooming shrub gets my vote for best shrub nobody's ever heard of. Very pretty pink flowers but the real attraction is its heavenly scent. Truly, one of the most intensely fragrant shrubs you'll ever smell. Sweet!
Any guesses what this is? It's a Cotinus 'Royal Purple' in its near winter disguise. I get different colors every late fall, sometimes orange, sometimes gold, sometimes red. All beautiful!
While the Cotinus is just about done, my Leucospermum 'Veldfire' is just getting started. That fuzzy little center is the earliest stage of what will become one of the most magnificent flowers in all of the Proteaceae world.
This odd but vigorous plant is a Pelargonium crispum variegated Lemon. So, the crispum name owes to the crinkly leaves; the variegated moniker owes to the yellow and green leaves and the lemon, well, it really does smell powerfully of lemon. It's kind of a wonder plant, giving a little of everything to its caretaker.
The photographer in me coached this Salvia discolor. "There, just a little to the left. Turn slightly to me. There, hold it!" It does look good against the gray stucco wall, showing off a bit of its white undersides and stems.
Winter means Daphnes, at least to me. Here's my D. odora variegata. It started as a tiny 4" potted plant so it's made good progress in a mere year and a half. It's planted along the main walkway, along with other fragrant plants, so all can enjoy its sweet smell.
Kalanchoe 'Chocolate Soldier.' Whatever name you give to this kalanchoe, it showcases bluish-gray, felty leaves, highlighted with those chocolate tips. Very easy to grow, whether in a pot or in the ground.
Heavenly bamboos (Nandina domestica) may be called utilitarian (you say that like it's a bad thing ...) but they're also beautiful and look good year round. This year I'm finally getting a few red berries.
If you're wondering what the heck I'm shooting here, it's the last of the Viburnum opulus foliage, now a pinky-orange. This is my Jungle Strip, where the various shrubs are largely left to fend for themselves. They've done surprisingly well, augmented by the occasional deep watering.
This Asarina erubescens 'Bridal Wreath' isn't making a break for it (though it certainly looks like it). It's still producing a few late season, all white flowers. Probably the easiest Asarina to grow and that's saying something.
Here's another attempt to capture winter color on dying foliage. In this case, it's a tuberous begonia, offering up a mix of reds and golds on otherwise dark green leaves.
Thunbergia alata 'Arizona Red.' This IS the time of year for Thunbergias, especially in the milder zones. This new variety is possibly the reddest of all the 'Susans.' It'll likely bloom well into late January if not longer.
Sempervivium tectorum calcareum. This Hens and Chicks is a favorite of mine and I love the name. The species name 'tectorum' makes it seem solid and tough and that's sort of what it is.
"The Wooly Bush that ate Oakland!" Well, almost. My Adenanthos sericeus is now 12' tall! Umm, that's a bit taller than the 6' listed on the seller's label ... If I ever write a book I'm tempted to title it "Your results May Vary." Indeed. And when I run for president my slogan will be 'A wooly bush in every garden!' (forget about chickens in pots). Okay, you have to be of a certain age to get the reference.
Succulent bowl #4. As is. Meaning, I just pulled out a couple tiny weeds, pointed the camera and click. It's progressing nicely and the Crassula muscosa (Watch chain plant) in back has kind of gone wild.
Zygonista murasakikomachi. Easy for you to say. Translation: an orchid. Love the color!
My favorite Camellia reticulata, C. 'Frank Hauser' has produced its first flower. Yes, this is its actual color! And the photo doesn't even make clear its silky petals and how wavy they are (not flat like C. japonica varieties). No wonder Reticulatas are considered the Queens of the camellia world.
From the extravagant to the sublime, here's a photo of my Chaenomeles 'Cameo.' Love the subtle colors and the fact that flowering quinces start blooming in winter.
Though my juvenile Jacaranda 'Bonzai Blue' is done blooming, it looks like it will hold onto its foliage year round here in Oakland. This dwarf only reaches 5-6' so it's easy to keep it in a container, as I've done. Love the foliage and of course those lovely purple flowers when they arrive.
Now suspend that mutual honoring with the fact that Oakland and the Bay Area offer the opportunity to garden year round, a suspension of reality that most other parts of the country don't get to indulge in. It's a delicate suspension of two worlds but one I'll take. Today I wandered out into the garden, camera in hand, not expecting there to be much to photograph. But surprise, surprise there were a host of solstice visual treats that compelled me to photograph. Here they are and while none are about to win any photography awards anytime soon, it is a way of sharing my winter garden.
Front yard area. The S. African Osteospermum 'Voltage Yellow' thinks it's summer and is putting on a very cheerful show. To the right and in front is the new Coprosma 'Pina Colada.' They make a colorful winter pairing.
Luculia pinceana. This winter blooming shrub gets my vote for best shrub nobody's ever heard of. Very pretty pink flowers but the real attraction is its heavenly scent. Truly, one of the most intensely fragrant shrubs you'll ever smell. Sweet!
Any guesses what this is? It's a Cotinus 'Royal Purple' in its near winter disguise. I get different colors every late fall, sometimes orange, sometimes gold, sometimes red. All beautiful!
While the Cotinus is just about done, my Leucospermum 'Veldfire' is just getting started. That fuzzy little center is the earliest stage of what will become one of the most magnificent flowers in all of the Proteaceae world.
This odd but vigorous plant is a Pelargonium crispum variegated Lemon. So, the crispum name owes to the crinkly leaves; the variegated moniker owes to the yellow and green leaves and the lemon, well, it really does smell powerfully of lemon. It's kind of a wonder plant, giving a little of everything to its caretaker.
The photographer in me coached this Salvia discolor. "There, just a little to the left. Turn slightly to me. There, hold it!" It does look good against the gray stucco wall, showing off a bit of its white undersides and stems.
Winter means Daphnes, at least to me. Here's my D. odora variegata. It started as a tiny 4" potted plant so it's made good progress in a mere year and a half. It's planted along the main walkway, along with other fragrant plants, so all can enjoy its sweet smell.
Kalanchoe 'Chocolate Soldier.' Whatever name you give to this kalanchoe, it showcases bluish-gray, felty leaves, highlighted with those chocolate tips. Very easy to grow, whether in a pot or in the ground.
Heavenly bamboos (Nandina domestica) may be called utilitarian (you say that like it's a bad thing ...) but they're also beautiful and look good year round. This year I'm finally getting a few red berries.
If you're wondering what the heck I'm shooting here, it's the last of the Viburnum opulus foliage, now a pinky-orange. This is my Jungle Strip, where the various shrubs are largely left to fend for themselves. They've done surprisingly well, augmented by the occasional deep watering.
This Asarina erubescens 'Bridal Wreath' isn't making a break for it (though it certainly looks like it). It's still producing a few late season, all white flowers. Probably the easiest Asarina to grow and that's saying something.
Here's another attempt to capture winter color on dying foliage. In this case, it's a tuberous begonia, offering up a mix of reds and golds on otherwise dark green leaves.
Thunbergia alata 'Arizona Red.' This IS the time of year for Thunbergias, especially in the milder zones. This new variety is possibly the reddest of all the 'Susans.' It'll likely bloom well into late January if not longer.
Sempervivium tectorum calcareum. This Hens and Chicks is a favorite of mine and I love the name. The species name 'tectorum' makes it seem solid and tough and that's sort of what it is.
"The Wooly Bush that ate Oakland!" Well, almost. My Adenanthos sericeus is now 12' tall! Umm, that's a bit taller than the 6' listed on the seller's label ... If I ever write a book I'm tempted to title it "Your results May Vary." Indeed. And when I run for president my slogan will be 'A wooly bush in every garden!' (forget about chickens in pots). Okay, you have to be of a certain age to get the reference.
Succulent bowl #4. As is. Meaning, I just pulled out a couple tiny weeds, pointed the camera and click. It's progressing nicely and the Crassula muscosa (Watch chain plant) in back has kind of gone wild.
Zygonista murasakikomachi. Easy for you to say. Translation: an orchid. Love the color!
My favorite Camellia reticulata, C. 'Frank Hauser' has produced its first flower. Yes, this is its actual color! And the photo doesn't even make clear its silky petals and how wavy they are (not flat like C. japonica varieties). No wonder Reticulatas are considered the Queens of the camellia world.
From the extravagant to the sublime, here's a photo of my Chaenomeles 'Cameo.' Love the subtle colors and the fact that flowering quinces start blooming in winter.
Though my juvenile Jacaranda 'Bonzai Blue' is done blooming, it looks like it will hold onto its foliage year round here in Oakland. This dwarf only reaches 5-6' so it's easy to keep it in a container, as I've done. Love the foliage and of course those lovely purple flowers when they arrive.
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