Good rain year, a deer and some new plants

Unlike many recent years, we had a cool, rainy May and a cool, rainy June in Seattle. A bit more warmth would be nice but spring and early summer is when we really need rain, so no complaints here. With its warm, dry summers, our Mediterranean climate is delightful in many ways though it can be a most consternating irritant for gardeners, especially those doing any spring transplanting. But of course, for gardeners it’s always something. If it’s not the weather it’s bacterial, viral or fungal pathogens or herbivores. Aphids haven’t been bad so far this year and rabbit fences are more or less in place, but a deer has been spotted on campus once again. Last time a deer visited the herb garden it ate a lot of the chokeberry, prune plum and blueberry foliage.  It’s so quiet on campus this summer that it must be a great place for a deer…to rest and quickly move on…without eating.

As usual, with  spring came many new plants to the garden. Some are profiled below and others will need time to establish themselves before going public.

In section B,  alpine lovage (Ligusticum mutellina), a perennial  from the mountains of central and southern Europe. It’s more compact but looks somewhat similar to our North American medicinal plant, osha (Ligusticum porteri).

A few yards away is one of several Himalayan plants featured in the garden this year. It is in the Rutaceae, it looks like rue (Ruta sp.) and one of its common names is false rue. It is matsukaze-so (Boenninghausenia albiflora, var. japonica) and it is used for its antibacterial properties. Several varieties exist and the species is widespread from the Himalayas to Japan, where this variety is native.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Masuri berry (Coriaria nepalensis) is another medicinal plant from the Himalayas.  Two are along Stevens Way by the bus stops and one is in section B. They are the only members of their plant family, the Coriariaceae, in the garden.

In section E, also from the Himalayas, herb paris (Paris polyphylla, a donation from a fellow gardener. Thanks Neal!) It has many, many common names and many medicinal uses in that diverse region of the world. And look at that beautiful, hand-lettered sign. Penmanship is a lost art…lost on me anyway.

The shati, kapur kachri, cao guo yao, spiked ginger lily (Hedychium spicatum) goes by many more common names than I’ve listed. It’s a Himalayan native whose rhizomes are used medicinally in all of the healing traditions in the great span of cultures represented in the Himalayas and their drainages. The fruit are also eaten. These are subtropical plants. They did fine outside this past winter when temperatures reached about 25F, their supposed limit. Time will tell how they do if we get down to the teens. Hopefully they will flower this year.

But the world is a big place and the Himalayas are just part of it. What about Uzbekistan?

luo hua shu kui (Alcea nudiflora) is a hollyhock, native from Uzbekistan to western China and north to Russia. That’s the only common name I could find for it. What do they call it in Uzbekistan? Your guess is as good as mine. The flowers, leaves and sometimes roots of this and other hollyhocks species are used medicinally wherever they grow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jiao hao (Incarvillea sinensis var. przewalski) has long been used in traditional Chinese medicine to treat pain, especially rheumatic pain. They are supposedly annuals or short-lived perennials. These are less than a foot tall. They’re from northern China.

 

Lei gong teng (Tripterygium regelii) from China, Korea and Japan is a shrubby vine or maybe a viny shrub, sometimes described as scandent (having a climbing habit), not unlike its American cousin bittersweet (Celastrus scandens) also in the Celastraceae plant family. It was badly damaged by rabbits last year but it grew right back with hardware cloth protection. Extracts from the plant are used to treat certain autoimmune conditions.
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3867260/

Nearby is waterside astilbe, xi pan luo xin fu (Astilbe rivularis) from southern China through se Asia. It is used in ayurvedic and traditional Chinese medicine for treatment of gastrointestinal conditions. These are still seedlings.

Chinaberry (Melia azedarach) flowering up a storm next to section B. The scent of the flowers is sweet. I couldn’t locate the source until I grabbed the step ladder and got up into the tree. It has many traditional medicinal uses throughout its native range from southeast Asia to northern Australia.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Closeup of Chinaberry flowers.

In the sun, a few yards away from the chinaberry tree grows some white sage (Salvia apiana), a plant sacred to the tribes of northwestern Mexico and southwestern USA. The parched and ground seeds have been used  to make pinole.  Those pale flowers… they resisted but I persisted and finally got an image…not a great image but good enough. The shape of the flowers looks difficult for smaller pollinators to access and studies have shown them to be ineffective pollinators. However, bumblebees (Bombus spp.) and carpenter bees (Xylocopa spp.) are large enough to push the lower lip of the flower down to get to the nectar, triggering the stamens to swing downward, allowing the anthers to make contact with the bee, releasing some of their pollen. It’s actually pretty fascinating and is succinctly explained here:
https://www.cabi.org/ISC/abstract/20163257085

In section C, pipicha (Porophyllum linaria) from Mexico is used as a condiment, like cilantro and much like its cousin papalo (Porophyllum ruderale) in section A. This is its first season in the garden so I’m not sure how big it will get.

Achoccha (Cyclanthera brachybotrys), an annual vine from South America produces small fruit with soft spines. They can be eaten raw, cooked or pickled. Pictures of the fruit appear quite similar to some African cucumber species I’ve grown in the past at the Medicinal Herb Garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beach peas (Lathyrus japonicus) growing in section A, not the beach. I’ve seen them growing on saltwater beaches here but they are also found along the shores of our Great Lakes. As circumboreal natives whose seeds can remain viable for years while floating in sea water, it’s not too surprising they have also been reported in the southern hemisphere, in Chile and Argentina. The seeds and young pods are edible.

With a hardware cloth barrier, the Virginia mallow (Sida hermaphrodita) is growing again. It’s nearly 8 feet tall in this photo. It is used as a high-protein fodder crop, a pollinator plant and as a source of bioenergy, due to its fast growth and high lignin content.

Rabbits have been unable to get to the sassafras (Sassafras albidum) and it has shot up to almost 4 feet. Hardware cloth is the answer to rabbits.

It made it through its first winter. Pistachios (Pistacia vera) are supposed to be hardy around here in zone 8, however, their native range is roughly from Syria to Afghanistan. Let’s say that puts their latitude at about 34-35˚ N . Our latitude is almost 48˚ N, so probably not ideal. But I planted them near the olives and pomegranates so they can all shiver together through winter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meadowsweet or Queen of the meadow (Filipendula ulmaria) is one of the many tall plants in the western border of section E. The flowers have a sweet almond/cherry scent, or something like that…hard to describe… go smell them if you want to find out. The whole plant has been used to treat all sorts of digestive conditions as well as symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis and gout. But don’t forget to smell the flowers.

Speaking of flowers, some random lilies (Lilium martagon?) near Cascara Circle. They escaped the rabbits.

The various blueberry cultivars (Vaccinium spp.) have heavy fruit sets this year. The cool, rainy weather has been good for them. If you find the lilies you’re near the blueberries.

Plains prickly pear (Opuntia polyacantha) flower in clear detail. The xeriscape bed looks pretty sad in winter but it shines in July.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Deer turned the little fig tree into a twig tree. This is the Monday update photo. Hungry deer did quite a bit of selective pruning in three days.

Final photo is faunal photo. This raccoon (Procyon lotor) was ravenously eating something large and either furry or feathery. S/he had a good meal and wasn’t interested in sharing it. The alarmed crows were getting too close and so was I. As our eyes met s/he conveyed a simple and clear message, “One more step and I’ll chew your leg off.”

 

That’s the news. If the deer sticks around I’ll have another short post with pictures.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

abundant spring rain

gift gratefully accepted

 herb garden bounty

 

 

 

 

See you in the garden.

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This quiet spring

Birdsong and maybe a baffling spring wind wafting through the conifers excepted, all is quiet in the Medicinal Herb Garden and the surrounding city, state, country and much of the world right now as we step out of our busy, daily routines and into social distancing and isolation at home as much as possible. We are doing a good job of ‘flattening the curve’ here in Washington state. It’s impressive to see fellow citizens engaged in this sort of enlightened self-interest because the lives of so many depend on it, both COVID-19 patients and those trying to heal them. Unfortunately, as businesses struggle or fail and the unemployment lines grow, that collateral damage becomes its own sad story.

Another story is also unfolding as volunteers band together to form ad hoc mutual aid associations to fill in for closed school cafeterias, by making meals for kids who need them, or sharing materials and making masks or using crowdfunding sites to help support closed neighborhood businesses and their employees, or getting supplies to the housebound. And on and on. It’s usually in hard times that we come to know what we’re made of, how well is woven our collective fabric. It’s looking pretty strong right now.

And with so many people staying home, their gardens are getting some love, and some gardeners are learning to grow their own food and herbs, just in time for the planting season. It’s likely we will come out of this pandemic with a more food-secure and hopefully, cooperative country, better prepared for the next natural disaster. That is definitely a good thing.

Though there are few human visitors right now, the Medicinal Herb Garden abides. It’s still early in the season but by May, the transplanting will be in full swing. If you see hand-written signs in front of new plants, be patient; reduced staffing at the UW might lead to a few delays.

We had a cold March but the garden is waking up. Here is barely a smattering of what you might see if you could safely manage a visit while maintaining current social distancing guidelines.

I didn’t get out early enough to take its picture before the sun got so bright but this is the Canadian serviceberry (Amelanchier canadensis). Fruit rust or no fruit rust, they are a beautiful small shrub or tree that should be more widely planted on city parking strips. Our western serviceberry (Amelanchier alnifolia) is smaller and usually shrubbier.

Those airy flowers will turn into delicious fruit some day.

Very early stage of an umbrella plant (Darmera peltata) flower spike. It is growing in the little boggy area south of Cascara Circle, next to the…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

western skunk cabbage (Lysichiton americanus) which can get over 4 feet tall, grows well in boggy areas and smells like a skunk.

Young cascara tree (Rhamnus purshiana). The seedlings come up all over near Cascara Circle. Its dried and aged bark is still used as a safe laxative. Birds eat its black, shiny fruit and they deposit the seeds very nearby (yes, the fruit are also laxative).

Sometimes people drop off their goldfish in the Cascara Circle cistern. Those fish rarely die of old age. One year when there was a proper school of them the size of brook trout, I spotted a great blue heron standing in the water. It ate every fish. Raccoons will also catch fish trapped in such a small area. I’m not sure if that’s what this rascal is doing.
Apparently they have many sensitive nerve endings in the pads of their forepaws and water increases the sensitivity. Here is a great entry on raccoons from PAWS:
https://www.paws.org/resources/raccoons/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fern-leaved biscuitroot (Lomatium dissectum) in the morning light of section D. Its native range is on the hot, dry, eastern side of the Cascades so it needs to get up early in spring to beat the heat of summer.

Unopened flower buds of white-flowered asphodel (Asphodelus albus) in the north border of section D. When these buds open they will each transform into a long raceme of star-shaped white flowers which will turn into large, spherical seed capsules.

From South Africa, giant honey flower (Melianthus major) in the border of section E.
If you rub your fingers on its leaves, your fingers will smell like peanut butter. This plant is a little over 2 feet tall but can grow to a striking 8 feet or more. Unfortunately, a really cold winter will set it back in Seattle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blue cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides) in section D is up and ready to flower early like many herbaceous perennials of the eastern hardwood forests. They take advantage of the sunlight before the deciduous trees leaf out. The blue cohosh is doing better this spring, protected by rabbit fencing. Speaking of rabbits, they seem to be scarce in the garden these days, maybe because all of the fencing has closed off their sources of food or maybe they are in some sort of cyclical downturn.

The false unicorn (Chamaelirium luteum) seems to have found a place where it can thrive in section F. Its common name refers to its long, white flower spikes.

First tendrils of wild yam (Dioscorea villosa), nearly ready to start twining around their trellis in section F.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you can’t bear the sight of  any more daffodils (Narcissus pseudonarcissus) and need yellow spring flowers to fill a spot in your garden, there’s always oxlip (Primula elatior).
The young leaves are edible and the roots are diuretic and expectorant. These are in section F.

Last year’s growth still visible, the Syrian rue (Peganum harmala), desert plant though it is, has survived yet another Seattle winter. It would do better if it still got full sun exposure but had some overhanging tree branches to keep it drier in winter.

On our nearly deserted and eerily quiet campus, someone passed through and left this offering in Cascara Circle. It seemed like a good omen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

tulip tree petals

dandelions, daisies, sage

springtime mandala

 

 

 

 

 

See you in the garden…eventually.

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Autumn/winter digest

The good news is the days are growing longer; not by much but it starts to add up about now, luckily, because it has been quite dark and rainy for a while. Rainy and warmish in the lowlands since our brief and minor snow event, that rain has been mostly snow in the mountains and the snowpack is reassuring. Right now, Stevens Pass has 84″  and Snoqualmie Pass has 72″ on the ground.

The rabbits have spread out for the winter as they must go further afield for food. This time of year they’re eating the bark off all sorts of woody plants throughout campus. Seems we will have to come up with a management plan for a lot of green spaces on campus and throughout the city. The hardware cloth has been working in the medicinal herb garden and I can think of no better option, so expect to see more of it.

Speaking of rabbits, at least one of them seems to have a sweet tooth.

A fellow gardener (thanks Steve!) donated a section of a hollow log that was filled with honeycomb from a honeybee hive. So we put it in a wooded corner of the garden and I set up the game camera to see what animals might be interested.

No luck with Sasquatch, but Honey Bunny made an appearance.

The honey trough proved to be irresistible. Who doesn’t like honey?

After the honey was depleted, I moved the camera to another part of campus, a place known to be frequented by a certain coyote (Canis latrans) who slips in and out through a five inch gap in the fence.

The glowing pile in the middle of the photos is coyote feces. And that specter trotting past in the background is the coyote. That’s the one and only shot of the trickster….

…but another trickster was fascinated by the camera and made many visits to investigate. Good old crows (Corvus brachyrhynchos).

Alex Honnold is probably the most famous free soloist. But think of all the unsung dirtbaggers who go about their business away from the limelight. Choosing to go unaided by wings, this little bumblebee (Bombus sp.) made slow but steady progress up one of the boulders in section C.

I couldn’t bear the suspense but I have a feeling s/he made it.

Still around and eating rabbits, the barred owls (Strix varia) continue to be a
welcome sight around the garden. Get ‘er done, bird.

An owl or coyote got what does not remain of this rabbit on the eastern edge of the garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Townsend’s warblers (Setophaga townsendi) can sometimes be seen around here in winter. This one was foraging on the ground in section D.

 

The jujube/suan zao ren tree (Zizyphus jujube var. spinosa) near the bus stop finally got its top clear of the surrounding foliage and into the sun, producing a nice crop.

Here’s a small sample of the fruit. They start out green, then turn a light orangish, brownish, burnt umberish color.

 

That’s the catch-up news. It’s seed starting/ordering/distribution time. At this very moment, the flowers are beginning to open on the Indian plums (Oemleria cerasiformis) around Cascara Circle. Almost time to break out the sunscreen…or not.

 

 

 

 

 

overwintering

animals working harder

plants taking a break

 

 

 

 

See you in the garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ravens, owls and death caps

They’ve all been present around the Medicinal Herb Garden recently. Barred owls appear to have made campus or nearby woods their home, but the ravens are unusual in the city, where they are infrequent visitors, passing over from one rural area to the next and stopping briefly like the rest of the tourists who visit Seattle.

On September 30th, two ravens (Corvus corax) visited campus. One landed in a deodar cedar (Cedrus deodara) near section B. That one is pictured here. The other one was on top of a Port Orford cedar (Chamaecyparis lawsoniana) on the east side of Anderson Hall, along Rainier Vista. It flew off before I could take its picture.

Our current barred owl’s location is often betrayed by the chorus of bird alarm calls. Owls are not easily scared off so sometimes all parties just play it cool and casually monitor the situation.

“Crow, what crow?”
“Owl, what owl?”

Barred owls (Strix varia) are fairly tolerant of human presence but it’s good to respect their space. They don’t need any more stress in their lives. To take the pressure off spotted owls (Strix occidentalis), land managers have been shooting barred owls in Washington, Oregon and California. Alas, in the triage times of the 21st century, options are limited and tough decisions must be made. Had we preserved more old-growth forest, maybe the spotted owls would have been better able to coexist with the westward-migrating barred owls. Or maybe not. We’ll never know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Small in size but with a large and bold spirit, the chickadees are at home in the thickets at the edges of the garden. I’ve been scolded many times for straying into their territory. I haven’t had one land on me yet, but they will land inches away if I’m near their food source.

Garden visitors sometimes ask why I don’t deadhead all of the perennials in autumn and winter. See the black-capped chickadee (Poecile atricapillus) in the center of the picture? That’s part of the reason. It is eating the seeds of downy sunflower (Helianthus mollis) and Culver’s root (Veronicastrum virginicum). There are a lot of birds that spend their winters here and the more there is to eat, the better off they are. And there are insects that live in the shelter of the dried plant matter. If you were to break off a few dead stalks of any herbaceous plant in the garden, and bring them inside where it’s warm, the little creatures that had taken refuge for the winter would soon come crawling out. Remove all those stalks and you remove them and or their eggs, pupae or larvae.

Chickadee surveying its vast store of seeds. Do the wee creatures a favor and save your garden cleanup until the new spring vegetation starts to emerge.  And if the plants aren’t diseased, break up last season’s stalks and drop them in place to serve as mulch and habitat as they would in the natural world. If your neighbors are dubious, explain your reasoning and you might just win them over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Though butterflies, with the exception of the western tiger swallowtail (Papilio rutulus) seem to be growing scarce here, despite my efforts to plant as many butterfly-friendly plants as feasible, in early October this red admiral stuck around in section D just long enough to be photographed.

No sign of any Lorquin’s admiral (Limenitis lorquini) butterflies this season but finally, on the third of October, a red admiral (Vanessa atalanta) appeared in section D and alit on one of the plant label stakes while I was collecting seeds. Stinging nettle (Urtica dioica), a plant with a worldwide distribution similar to that of the butterfly, is the primary host plant for the red admiral caterpillar.

How much better can a tree look in October? This crepe myrtle (Lagerstoemia indica) has already flowered, and the flowers are pretty spectacular, but the fall colors in the leaves this year have stolen the show. We’re not zone 9 (yet) but we can grow some fine crepe myrtles up here. I’m starting to see them planted as street trees in Seattle and that is a good thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The turning leaves and mature seedheads of bowman’s root (Porteranthus trifoliatus) in section A

Obligatory fall color shot of the staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina). Clear, cold weather in recent days has brought out bright colors.

 

A new bench in Cascara Circle is already getting a lot of use. Public benches are such a great civic amenity. There should be more of them throughout the city and on campus. They get used as soon as they are installed.

 

Paw paw trees (Asimina triloba) west of Cascara Circle. They should start flowering in the spring of 2020 or 2021.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s called the cactus apple (Opuntia engelmannii) but it hasn’t flowered yet so no fruit have appeared. Maybe next year.

Last of the second crop of figs (Ficus carica) in section B. These will not ripen but they will be consumed by something or other.

Culver’s root (Veronicastrum virginicum) foliage at the end of its season.

Fall colors on the path north of section B. The yellow shrub is a pomegranate (Punica granatum)and the leaves on the path are from the sugar maple (Acer saccharum).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The birds have been getting the seeds from pods on the western sweetshrub (Calycanthus occidentalis) in Cascara Circle, so I picked them just before they opened. Sorry, birds, those seeds are for our international seed exchange program.

Mature seedhead of desert mule’s ears (Wyethia scabra) in section D

Seeds of bitter gourd (Momordica charantia).

 

Most people don’t mess around with wild mushrooms. It’s easier to buy the cultivated mushrooms at the grocery store. And there is a much wider variety at the stores these days, not to mention wild-collected mushrooms. Morels, chanterelles, lobsters, porcini, hedgehogs and matsutakes can be found in season at the high-end groceries and farmers markets. Some skilled forager vetted those mushrooms and you can be pretty sure they are safe. But there are so many other edible mushrooms growing in the cities, out in the country and in the wilderness. However, there are still other mushrooms that aren’t particularly good to eat: some are foul and bitter and a few are extremely dangerous, even deadly. The death cap (Amanita phalloides) is a deadly one. It kills more people than any other mushroom.  And it suddenly appeared in profusion on the edge of the Medicinal Herb Garden this October. So, here are some pictures. Take the time to familiarize yourself with them, especially if you are a casual forager. These European mushrooms are spreading on the west coast. Death caps can’t hurt you if you don’t eat them, so please observe the most important rule of mushroom picking: ‘When in doubt, throw it out’. Repeat: ‘When in doubt, throw it out’. Enough said.

Death cap (Amanita phalloides) first breaking through its universal veil…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and a little later…

…and later still

 

On that happy note, enjoy your Samhain, Dia de los Muertos, Halloween or whatever else you do or don’t celebrate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

last October light

catches the raven’s feathers

in the setting sun

 

 

 

 

See you in the garden.

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Autumn arrival

After some good rains in late summer to prepare us for winter, we have passed through another equinox and into autumn. It’s always a little surprising how quickly the days become noticeably shorter. The sun is low enough in the sky that the second flush of Lattarula figs (Ficus carica ‘Lattarula’) in section B struggles to ripen because the deodar cedars (Cedrus deodara) to the south are now blocking the sunlight. That’s late September for you. At home I pulled my tomatoes up by the roots to force them to ripen, but the rains have kept the roots wet and the plants aren’t even wilting. That’s Seattle for you.

Other than some sort of tiny ants (where did those little devils come from?) eating the root hairs of some of the plants in section C, it was a pretty good season for plants.

Beach plum (Prunus maritima) on the south side of section C. That plum is the size of a grapefruit and could feed a family of four. Just kidding. Beach plums, at least the ones growing in the Medicinal Herb Garden, are the size of a cherry, and a small cherry at that. Their pits look just like cherry pits. I’m refrigerating all four that I collected and will plant them in the spring to have more beach plum shrubs for border areas. Their floral display is over the top. Hopefully fruit production will catch up one of these growing seasons.

In the absence of tamarillo fruit (Solanum betacea) we must make do with dwarf tamarillos (Solanum abutiloides). They’re edible when they turn orange. Some might even consider them delectable. Some others that is. Find them in section C before they are consigned to the greenhouse for the duration of the winter.

Camera angles can be so deceiving. This calabash/bottle gourd (Lagenaria siceraria) at its soft, green, edible stage is almost three feet long. There are many delicious shrimp and calabash recipes throughout the warmer parts of the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tiny bitter gourd (Momordica charantia) with flower still attached.

They look like they could turn into hard, inedible gourds but they turn yellow, get soft and split at the bottom when they ripen, allowing their seeds to drop to the ground. They are eaten when they are still green, as above.

Ripe fruit of sticky nightshade (Solanum sisymbriifolium) in section C. Even the husk around the edible fruit is spiky on this plant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ripening fruit of the purple devil (Solanum atropurpureum) in section C.

First fruit of the tropical soda apple (Solanum viarum) in section C. The whole plants will go in the dumpster before the fruit ripen. Ditto for all of the spiky Solanum species. They are worrisome.

The squirrel-sown chestnut (Castanea sativa) in the border near the fig tree in section B is 15 feet tall and already has at least six fruit though they are probably all duds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ashwaganda (Withania somnifera) which amazingly overwintered last year, grew quite tall and robust and produced a lot of fruit.

Those are healthy plants. They seem to like section D.

The regular rain we received this summer has been good for the zhi shi/trifoliate orange/hardy orange (Poncirus trifoliata). The unripe fruit are used in traditional Chinese medicine to treat various stomach and abdominal complaints. The ripe fruit can be used to make marmalade and maybe, in a pinch, as a substitute for yuzu (Citrus junos) in a kosho recipe, perhaps with some freshly picked matsutakes (Tricholoma magnivelare…or whatever our North American matsutakes are currently named). Later… Ok, strike that idea. I recently tried the rind of Poncirus trifoliata fruit. It’s not a contender with yuzu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Look at those colorful grapes. Soon they will all be dark purple and ripe. These are California wild grapes (Vitis californica) in the woods north of Cascara Circle.

Northern bayberry (Myrica pensylvanica) fruit are coated with a waxy, fragrant substance that is used to scent candles on the east coast.

Medlars (Mespilus germanica) always produce a a lot of fruit but this year it’s looking like an extra bumper crop. Maybe that summer rain helped.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Female flowers on the eastern gamma grass (Tripsacum dactyloides). Those fuzzy, white stigmas have just emerged and will slowly turn purple…

…as these are just starting to do. The male flowers are conveniently located above the female flowers so that the pollen they drop will land on these sticky stigmas.

Female flowers are visible on the top stalk. The middle and bottom stalks have male flowers to the right and female flowers to the left (though the male flowers haven’t opened yet on the bottom stalk). Ideally, the stalks would be upright so that pollen would fall down onto the female flowers, but maybe, probably, the wind is strong enough to blow pollen sideways.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First flowers opening on the oku momiji haguma (Ainsliaea acerifolia) in section B. The hardware cloth kept the rabbits from eating the flower stalks this year.

African honeysuckle (Turraea heterophylla) flowering in section D. It’s not related to the other honeysuckles (Lonicera spp.) which are members of a different family, the Caprifoliaceae. African honeysuckle and Chinaberry (Melia azedarach) are the only members of their family, the Meliaceae, represented in the garden.

Early stage in the development of a flower on Maximilian sunflower plant (Helianthus maximiliani) in section D…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…and a freshly unfurled flower. Perennial sunflowers can spread out a bit but they require little care and can fill an open space quickly. They’re good for wild border areas but might be too vigorous for small or orderly gardens.

Umckaloabo (Pelargonium sidoides) flowers are tiny and fragrant. Native to South Africa, Umckaloabo root is used to treat respiratory illnesses.

Creosote bush (Larrea tridentata) has hairy fruit consisting of several seeds. This desert plant has hung on in the xeriscape bed through a couple decades of Seattle winters. It looks a bit like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree but it flowers and produces fruit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Great golden digger wasp (Sphex ichneumoneus) on the narrow-leaved milkweed (Asclepias fascicularis) in the xeriscape bed. So many wasps and bees and flies can be found around and on the flowers in the garden. When they’re feeding they are easy to observe. Hurry if you want to see them before they disappear for the winter.

The stink bugs seem to be increasing in numbers and diversity, but maybe I’ve just started noticing them. These might be nymphs of the southern green stink bug (Nezara viridula). They appeared to be sucking the juice out of the fruit on the udo plants (Aralia cordata).

After following it around the garden, trying to take its picture, I finally got an acceptable shot while it was resting on the tea (Camellia sinensis) hedge. It is a holly blue butterfly (Celastrina argiolus) that is native to North America and Eurasia.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The manzanitas (Arctostaphylos spp.) on the western border of section C have leaf gall on some of their branches. Apparently this is caused by the manzanita leaf gall aphids (Tamalia coweni) which are protected within the gall. The plants look healthy and only a small percentage of their leaves are affected by the galls so there is no management required.

Black-capped chickadee (Poecile atricapillus) feeding on the seeds of the Chilean tarweed (Madia sativa) in section A. This bold little bird practically owns section A.

Yellowjacket (Vespula sp.) sipping nectar from the flowers of Chinese angelica (Angelica sinensis) in section A. It’s good to have plants with nectar attracting the attention of yellowjackets in September. Better flowers than the food we’re trying to eat at our picnics.

Bald-faced hornet (Dolichovespula maculata) and honey bee (Apis sp.) together in one place. I’ve occasionally seen bald-faced hornets and yellowjackets ambush, kill and eat foraging honeybees but the feeding must be good enough at some of the nectar sources that coexistence is possible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vana tulsi (Ocimim gratissimum), a tender perennial,grew to six feet this summer. It is a much bigger plant than the annual tulsi (Ocimum sanctum)…

…which grows inches away and rarely gets much taller than a foot and a half.

The perilla/zi su/shiso (Perilla frutescens) grew to be over six feet tall this year in section C. That’s the tallest I’ve seen it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The hardware cloth cage around the groundnut (Apios americana) vines has protected them from rabbits and allowed them to flower once again in section E.

Hog peanut vine (Amphicarpea bracteata) with developing seed pods in section F. The seeds are edible.

Seed pods of white swallow-wort (Vincetoxicum hirundinaria) in section E. This was its first year flowering.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Big sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata) is flowering again. It has been a few years.

So common on the dry east side of the mountains, it’s a garden curiosity on the west side.

Naranjilla (Solanum quitoense) flower in the same bed as the tamarillos. I can’t wave my garden wand and make Seattle a tropical or even subtropical location (nor would I want to), so I will store this plant in a greenhouse and hope it is big enough to produce fruit next year. It’s hard not to grow frustrated at times with our zone 8 circumstances. We see glimpses, intimations of what zone 9 must be like but it’s just…out…of…reach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Late summer sunlight in section E.

September is Silphium flowering time. Behold prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) in section C on a wet morning. This resilient plant, native to the (formerly) deep, rich, prairie soils of the Midwestern USA, has managed to survive in the wastelands and margins of its former home, displaced by pavement, buildings, the plow and human-selected agricultural plants.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dwarf tamarillo

beach plum, medlar, grape and fig

chestnuts nearly ripe

 

 

 

 

 

 

See you in the garden.

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Update: Thirteen feet tall and flowering

It has been a mild and rainy summer so far. The plants are loving it and so are most gardeners. The sotol plant (Dasylirion wheeleri) reached thirteen feet on the 3rd of July when some of the flowers closest to the bottom of the spike were starting to open. It is now the 10th of July and almost the entire spike is flowering and listing a bit to the west and curling downward.

Sotol (Dasylirion wheeleri) flowers beginning to bloom on July 3rd. The flower spike is thirteen feet tall in this picture.

Almost all of the flowers have opened and the honey bees (Apis mellifera) have found a new favorite place as of July 10th.

Sotol flowers and a few bees, more of whom arrived as the mist cleared up and the sun came out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Big Bird were a plant…

 

Sacahuista (Nolina microcarpa) in a nearby bed is still flowering…

 

…in fact, its flowers are attracting bees right this very minute.

 

White sage (Salvia apiana) flowers in the xeriscape bed. They are resting against the decrepit wooden structure that formerly held the sign for the Medicinal Herb Garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tropical soda apple (Solanum viarum) flowering in section C. I will remove and bag and toss in the garbage all fruit before composting this plant in autumn. It can be invasive.

Sticky nightshade (Solanum sisymbriifolium) flowering in the same bed. The edible fruit are surrounded by husks, like ground cherries and tomatillos (Physalis spp.). However, even the husks are thorny on this well-defended plant.

Purple devil (Solanum atropurpreum) flowering in section C. Not sure I want to save seeds from this plant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Western tiger swallowtail (Papilio rutulus) sipping nectar from showy milkweed (Asclepias speciosa) in section B. Take a whiff of those flowers if you get the chance. I saw showy milkweed growing by the side of the road on the east side of the Cascades, between Methow and Twisp this past weekend. It doesn’t love the west side of the Cascades but it can grow in a well-drained, sandy site, unlike the heavy clay/silt in which it now grows. I will probably have to move it this fall.

Swallowtail on fuller’s teasel (Dipsacus sativus) in section C.

 

Ripening fruit of the Nanking cherry (Prunus tomentosa). There are two of them in the garden border areas. They are extremely cold-resistant shrubs, hardy to zone 2, and yet suffer damage to their branch tips each winter. I’m not sure why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For some unknown reason, the fruit of this Canadian serviceberry (Amelanchier canadensis) are not hosts to an orange rust or rusts (Gymnosporangium spp.) this year. Okay, a few got the rust but most were fine. I ate some and I can report that they are quite good.

This is supposedly Hindu datura (Datura metel) in section D. It looks a lot like toloache (Datura inoxia)…

… over in section C.

 

 

 

 

 

Miquel’s wintergreen (Gaultheria miqueliana) in section A is native from eastern Asia to Alaska and has white fruit that taste similar to the red fruit of American wintergreen (Gaultheria procumbens) of eastern North America.

Last year in section F, the rabbits (Sylvilagus floridanus) ate the hong jing tian (Rhodiola kirilowii), but this year they have left it alone…so far.

Oats (Avena sativa) in section F. The birds are afraid of section F because it is an easy place to be caught by a Cooper’s hawk (Accipiter cooperii). At some point the seeds might prove too tempting for a bold bird. Time will tell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The yellow-eyed grass (Sisyrinchium californicum) is doing so much better in section C where it gets water and sunlight. The red branches in the background are from nearby crevice alumroot (Heuchera micrantha).

Lots of flowers on the flannel bush (Fremontodendron californicum) this year.

It looks like one of the common breadseed poppies (Papaver somniferum) crossed with another cultivar (probably’Danish Flag’) of the same species. That is balloon flower/jie geng (Platycodon grandiflorus) in the background.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cordate-leaf origanum (Origanum cordifolium) is an endemic subshrub from Cyprus. Look for it in section C.

Eastern skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus) in section D is still immature. One of these years it will produce a spathe and spadix.

I think this is a brown marmorated stink bug (Halyomorpha halys) on the
chokeberry (Aronia melanocarpa).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

on chokeberry leaf

a marmorated stink bug

taking in the view

 

 

 

 

See you in the garden.

 

 

 

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Where eagles dare and sotol flowers

This time of year can be a bit hectic, whether you’re a farmer, a landscaper or a gardener. There’s so much, almost too much to do. Once the students (at least those who don’t take summer classes) have set off on their summer adventures and most of what needs to be transplanted is finally in the ground and growing, it will be time to take a breather…but not yet.

The Sun Tzu eagle commanded the skies over the herb garden for about a month, as the heron chicks were quickly fattening up in their high perches in the nearby rookery. The action was fully visible from the west end of the garden.

Sun Tzu, the bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) who ate all of the heron chicks (Ardea herodias). After a couple weeks of masterfully probing their defenses, this big bird finally struck the heron rookery in the trees of Island Grove, adjacent to and north of the Medicinal Herb Garden. The attacks lasted several days, leading to complete abandonment of the rookery.

In other bird news, Wilson’s warblers (Wilsonia pusilla) have lingered in Cascara Circle. It’s possible they are nesting in the thicket west of the stream. The barred owl (Strix varia) has been scarce in recent months but at least one Cooper’s hawk (Accipiter cooperii) is around.

Something happened here and it could have involved a hungry Cooper’s hawk.

You might have to crane your neck to see some of the flowers this summer.

It has taken the better part of twenty years, but the sotol (Dasylirion wheeleri) is sending up a flower stalk in section C. I’m not sure how tall it will get but I’ve seen pictures of them over ten feet tall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nearby, also in section C, the sacahuista (Nolina microcarpa) is flowering once again.

Closeup of its flower buds before they open. When they do open they will be covered in bees of all kinds but especially honeybees if there’s a nearby hive.

In the next bed over are more plants from drier climates, Mexican cliffrose (Purshia mexicana) surrounded by narrowleaf mule’s ears (Wyethia angustifolia).

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nearby, why are the horned poppies (Glaucium flavum) on the right so big compared to those on the left? Look closely.

Horned poppy is a member of the poppy family or Papaveraceae.

The smaller plants with similar foliage are nougd (Anvillea garcinii), a desert plant native to northern Africa through the Middle East to the Arabian Peninsula. Nougd is in the sunflower family, the Asteraceae or Compositae, and has been used to treat digestive disorders among other things and has shown itself in recent testing to have hepatoprotective effects similar to silymarin, the flavanoid extracted from milk thistle seeds (Silybum marianum). https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21375515

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you refer to the previous blog post you can see that we got some real winter weather. Some of the less hardy plants didn’t do so well.

This Australia tea tree appears to have survived…barely. Several others are doomed unless they manage to regrow from the base of their trunks. The good news is that they will often grow back from the trunk, right at the soil line. The damage from a cold winter isn’t always immediately obvious so there could well be other casualties that will slowly fade away this season. That’s gardening.

The Australian tea tree (Melaleuca alternifolia) near the fig tree was utterly blasted by our cold winter, so I cut it down. Slowly, over the next few weeks, its neighboring manuka, seen here, (Leptospermum scoparium) has presented dead and dying branches. It’s putting up the good fight but it might be on its way out. This is in section B by the fig tree, but less than 100 yards away in section E…

…this manuka specimen is completely undamaged. It’s hard to say what combination of factors makes a specific spot the right place for the right plant. This site probably gets a bit more winter sun and protection from wind…or whatever. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This ashwaganda (Withania somnifera) is quite large considering it is usually transplanted as a seedling from the greenhouse to the garden in a four inch pot in the middle of May. But this ashwaganda came back from the base of last season’s plants. The same thing happened with the yi yi ren or Job’s tears (Coix lacryma-jobi) a couple of feet away in the same bed. Both are often tender enough to die in our winters.

Indian teasel or fuller’s teasel, (Dipsacus sativus) in section C is a biennial. It was planted last year and stayed low to the ground, storing up energy in its roots, then sprang into action in May, quickly sending up flower stalks. The dried seed heads were once used to raise the nap on cloth made of wool.

Flowering now in the Cascara Circle bog are two of our more charismatic northwest wildflowers, umbrella plant (Darmera peltata) in the foreground and western skunk cabbage (Lysichiton americanus).

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recognize this weed from your garden? It’s petty spurge (Euphorbia peplus) and it has been and is still used to remove actinic keratoses from the skin. The caustic white sap is used. Be sure not to get any of it in your eyes while weeding. Though it grows wild all over the garden it has been honored with its own bed and plant label this year.
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21375515

Last year the rabbits (Sylvilagus floridanus) ate the little sassafras plant (Sassafras albidum) to the ground. If all goes well it will get big enough to be out of the reach of rabbits.

Luckily for them, the nibbling little rascals have found a plant that we can all agree needs some grazing. The vigorous Chinese ground orchid (Bletilla striata) spreads by rhizomes and seems to do fine being grazed by the rabbits who help to keep the spreading clumps in check. They leave a mess on the ground but that’s ok.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rabbits or no rabbits, Bletilla striata endures.

The new look is not so bad. This year you will notice lots of hardware cloth exclusion fences encircling plants that rabbits like to eat. That’s the best solution for now and the only thing that seems to work. This photo is looking west from the east side of section A.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More of the same in section D. The coral bells (Heuchera sanguinea) in the foreground had all of their flower stalks lopped off by rabbits last year.

Section E has enough challenges with deep shade and tree roots hampering plant growth. Rabbit predation wasn’t helping matters. There’s no shortage of rabbit food on campus. Never fear, they will survive.

Section F in all its fenced-in glory.

 

 

 

 

 

The mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum) in a formal bed in section E is dwindling but this little colony in the woods north of Cascara Circle is thriving. Like so many plants that naturally spread and run, they suffer when confined by borders. Maybe this will be their official home now. The low and dense shade from the hawthorns (Crataegus spp.) and the red oak (Quercus rubra) bordering section E have presented challenges for plant selection.

Garden visitors in early spring.

One was shy and left, but this one was unwilling to go until it had finished with some sort of urgent business involving the water. It must be a pretty good life for raccoons (Procyon lotor) on campus. Crossing Stevens Way (whatever happened to the 20 MPH speed limit?) is probably their biggest risk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s the belated spring news.

 

 

 

 

 

who can say for sure

when the sotol will flower

it’s flowering now

 

 

 

See you in the garden.

 

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A cold and snowy February

Most of Seattle got the better part of a foot of snow or more in the course of a  week  and a half, starting on Super Bowl Sunday. The newspapers declared this was the biggest snow event since 1949. Seattle has many steep hills, pavement that can thaw in the day, then freeze at night (a bad combination for driving as our UW climatology guru, Cliff Mass has pointed out) and few snow plows because we rarely need them. So the city came to a near standstill. Imagine the horror. Workers and students were forced to stay home, gaze out at the glowing, pristine countryside, walk or ski or sled though a soft, dazzling, snowy wonderland, greeting their seldom-seen friends and neighbors on the street, lingering for long hours at local coffee shops and bars (at least those that were open) and city parks, carrying food home from the store in packs on their backs (like CrossFit with a purpose) or maybe joyously sledding down closed streets or neighborhood green spaces. What could be worse?

Somehow we survived. Hopefully we all had the opportunity to push free someone’s car stuck in the snow or return a lost mitten, put extra food out for the birds or let in a cold, stray cat for a few days. Though they are the bane of school administrators and production managers, extreme weather events are a blessing in disguise. The dark spell of the daily routine can chip away at our spirits. Anything that can break that spell is a reminder that we are, at our essential core, believe it or not, free, despite the fetters we make for ourselves.

But not as free as this airborne wanderer:

A Cooper’s hawk (Accipiter cooperii) showed up near Cascara Circle. The crows hadn’t arrived yet to chase it off but the alarm calls of little birds were a good tip to look up.

Section F hardware cloth rabbit screens turned into plastered walls. This was the first snow and then we got hit with a lot more.

Section C with the snow starting to accumulate. The deodar cedars (Cedrus deodara) in the background have a light dusting of snow but they eventually became overloaded as the weather warmed and the snowflakes got bigger. Some large, heavy branches broke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joe Pye weed (Eupatorium purpureum) as the first flakes were falling, before the heavy snow collapsed most of the flower stalks.

Behold the path north of section A shortly after the snow started and before the big limbs started falling.

The same path under the shattered limbs of the Atlas cedar. As you can see, it doesn’t take much snow to break their branches.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three conifers, two of which seem to do fine in the snow but one of which is a disaster area unto itself and a menace to those nearby. The dark green tree to the left is a Chinese juniper (Juniperus chinensis). It sustained no damage in the snow and is, thankfully, outside the dripline of the center tree, the Atlas cedar (Cedrus atlantica) which will drop limbs at the barely whispered rumor of an approaching storm. If you must have one, plant it far from the house and the kids’ sandbox. The poor little Japanese umbrella pine (Sciadopitys verticillata) to the right and in the shadow of its giant neighbor, normally sheds snow quite easily. Unfortunately it caught a very heavy limb and sustained a bit of damage but it will be fine…

…once it makes the wish to get the giant Atlas cedar wishbone removed.

That blasted, blighted upright wreck of a tree at center is the lower half of what is left of the Atlas cedar surrounded by some of its fallen limbs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Australian tea tree (Melaleuca alternifolia) looking a bit frazzled from the cold. The darker green shrub leaning against it is a manuka (Leptospermum scoparium). All of the manuka shrubs seem to have come through fine except for being pushed over by the weight of the snow (which has already melted in this photo…obviously). That was the fate of a lot of shrubs, many of which were blocking pathways and had to be severely pruned. The campus is well represented by several species of Viburnum which can be cut back hard, only to grow quickly to their original size. No wonder they’re so popular as landscape plants.

As the snow melts, tracks (these are raccoon) get bigger. Raccoon and rabbit tracks were all over the place during the snow days. Squirrels seemed to be hunkering down for a while but they appeared again as the snow started to consolidate and finally melt. The bad news for them was no students or staff dropping food in the trash cans for a few days but the good news was that trash pickup was also suspended.

Happy days; the snow is melting. After shoveling the stuff for a few days, as it slowly gets heavier, it is a bit of a relief to see it melting away. Hopefully it protected the less hardy plants during the coldest nights. I fear we might have dipped below 20F at least once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is it, the last little pile of snow on the Chemistry lawn adjacent to section C.

All of the outgoing seed orders have gone in the mailbox to distant lands around the globe. It is officially time to begin planting seeds for this summer. Soon there might be something worth writing about the plants in the garden. Look forward to some new arrivals, as always,  and be prepared for some winter weather losses. Weather…it’s always something with the weather. Accept that fact and your gardening days will be much happier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

making a snowman

the finer points of sledding

today’s school lessons

 

 

 

See you in the garden.

 

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Shortest day, shortest post

Pretty soon the days will begin growing longer again. In this Pacific Northwest winter land of soaking gray days and long nights (we’re further north than Quebec City…. though south of Paris and substantially south of London), where heavy clouds rest low on the tops of dark conifers, solstice is a welcome point in the circle of seasons.

Neither my fumbling attempts as a photographer nor my miniature camera can do western Washington winters justice, but here are some recent photos from the garden.

Rosin weed (Silphium integrifolium)

Downy sunflower (Helianthus mollis)

Bai shou wu (Cynanchum auriculatum)

 

 

 

 

 

Apache plume (Fallugia paradoxa)

Evening primrose (Oenothera biennis)

Wild yam (Dioscorea villosa)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yi mu cao or Siberian motherwort (Leonurus sibericus)

Hawthorn (Crataegus sp.)

Ironweed (Vernonia fasciculata)

 

 

 

 

 

Sword fern (Polystychum munitum) growing through cranberry (Vaccinium macrocarpon) plants on a frosty morning in Section C. There is still some color left in winter. Look closely and you can see cranberries hidden in the foliage.

Honk if you love gray skies! Humans rarely accept the winter weather with the grace of birds. It helps to have feathers that shed water. This is one of our many resident Canada geese (Branta canadensis) strutting its stuff on campus the other day. Grass grows all winter here so the geese are well fed. They also eat all of the windfall crab apples from nearby trees, an amusing spectacle if you’re lucky enough to witness it. Along with crows, geese are one of Seattle’s natural treasures.

 

 

 

 

Well, if you can call that news, that’s the news.

 

 

 

 

 

cry of glaucous gulls

soaring over stormy surf

 winter on this coast

 

 

 

 

See you next year in the garden.

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A hunter’s moon, a little rain and Samhain

A couple of days ago  the morning light from the hunter’s moon, diffused and softened by the predawn fog, felt like the last call for our record-breaking dry spell. The sunny day that followed was another gift for those who love the buffered, sidelong light of the autumn sun and the increasingly colorful leaves on campus and throughout the city. When the heavy winds and rain arrive late like this, the clear, cool nights that precede them can bring out the brilliant orange of the sugar maple (Acer saccarum), the red of the oaks (Quercus spp), sourwood (Oxydendron arboreum) sumac (Rhus spp.) and highbush cranberries (Viburnum opulus) and the yellow of the birches (Betula spp.) and poplars (Populus spp.). A visiting colleague from Massachusetts said the fall colors here were better than there this year.

Today it has been warm and rainy and then sunny off and on. The winds have finally arrived to scatter the leaves, so get outside soon if you can. A walk on a blustery day in October, followed by a cup of tea is just what the doctor ordered.

Sourwood (Oxydendron arboreum) in its fall glory near Cascara Circle

What is there not to like about a pomegranate (Punica granatum)? Seattle should be covered in them. This one is near the bus stop by Stevens Way

High bush blueberry (Vaccinium corymbosum) near Cascara Circle.

A little fog in the morning followed by afternoon sunshine; that was our lucky lot in Seattle for most of October. This is early morning, west of Cascara Circle.

View to the east through section D. Those are hawthorn (Crataegus spp.) branches to the upper right. Though they have little else to recommend their thorny, suckering, fruit-dropping selves, it would be a lie to say they are not attractive in an eerie, almost sinister way, perfect for the season .

 

Poroporo (Solanum aviculare) update from last post: the fruit are mediocre.
They aren’t bad except for the seeds that are hard as guava seeds. Not bad but not really good…though the flowers are top notch and they grow fast.

The last of the harvest of trifoliate orange or zhi shi (Poncirus trifoliata) and black chokeberry (Aronia melanocarpa) near section D. The birds have finally figured out that chokeberries are edible. We could do worse than having our city green spaces filled with bird-sown chokeberries and wild grapes.

Forest spur flower (Plectranthus fruticosus) from South Africa, filled in nicely and grew without any pampering. Hopefully it will survive the winter. Its crushed leaves smell like grapefruit mixed with a hint of menthol. The whole plant is supposed to have antimicrobial properties.

Branches of Szechuan pepper tree (Zanthoxyllum simulans) west of section C. That leaden background is the foggy sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s normally very difficult to photograph spider webs with a little point-and-shoot digital camera. At least for me it is. So, when a thick fog settled in, I took not one…

…not two…

…but three shots, a feat perhaps never to be repeated.

The dewy, floating row cover protecting the clover from the rabbits picked up the tracks of the raccoons. Looks like they had a dance party.

Gathering figs before work one morning last month, I heard a strange trilling noise that I didn’t recognize. Pulling a branch aside revealed a young and worried looking little raccoon (Procyon lotor) staring down at me. We’d both had the same idea for a morning snack. I stepped aside to let it down and it scampered off home…wherever that is.

Barred owl (Strix varia) in the Japanese umbrella pine (Sciadopitys verticillata) north of section A. It is nearly Samhain, a pagan Celtic holiday during which the veil between the living and the dead grows thin.  A visitation from the owl, which in many cultures is or was the messenger from the netherworld, adds a little gravitas to the commercial ‘holiday’ we now refer to as Halloween. From Mexico, another holiday of pre-Christian origin and celebrated at the same time, is Dia de los Muertos,  which seems to have retained its meaning and been woven into a deeper cultural fabric than Halloween.
Listen for the alarm calls of crows and you might be lucky enough to catch a daylight glimpse of this night bird.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The east side of the Biology Greenhouse with the Life Sciences Building in the background, on a foggy day. They are both essentially finished and we hope to start moving into the greenhouse soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fall interregnum

twixt equinox and solstice

its old name Samhain

 

 

See you in the garden

 

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