In the many months since the last post, pretty much everything has changed in the garden. Insects have been born, lived full lives and passed on, plants have grown inches, in some cases several feet. Buds have turned to flowers and flowers to seeds. New generations of birds and mammals are now at home in and around the garden. In short, it has been a fairly normal growing season.
A week or two ago a raccoon finally discovered that medlars (Mespilus germanica) are both edible and growing on the branches of the medlar tree. I briefly watched it working its way through the canopy, eating as it went. I didn’t take a photo because I was too busy throwing sticks at it (not too hard; we’re frenemies after all). I finally drove it out of the tree so I could pick a few medlars (for scientific purposes only). But of course it came back and ate the rest. I’ve been finding coyote scat here and there but have not set eyes on one since last winter. No unique bird observations to report, though ravens have been seen and heard on the fringes of campus, just passing through unfortunately. Rabbits are still around but are mostly fenced out. They will eat some bark off the woody plants this winter as always. They’re pretty good at changing their menu as the need arises, even eating strongly flavored plants in the mint family this year which is a bit of a surprise.
Ok, last post was in spring so I’ll start there and move on.
It’s spring! Or it was spring (May 11 to be exact) when I took this photo of the eastern redbud (Cercis canadensis) north of Cascara Circle. Redbuds flower early and not for long so they get missed. Keep your eyes out next May. A western redbud (Cercis occidentalis) with darker flowers, blooms at the same time a few yards away, next to Okanogan Lane.
More spring flowers every year on the arrowleaf balsamroot (Balsamorhiza sagittata) in the xeriscape bed. It really seems to be thriving in that spot. Still no flowers on the Texas prickly pear (Opuntia engelmannii) in the foreground…
but just around the corner and a few feet away, the tulip prickly pear (Opuntia phaeacantha) has produced its first fruit. It should be turning red soon. I can’t remember it flowering but it must have.
This year the abundance of flowers on the Siskiyou lewisia (Lewisia cotyledon) attracted the rabbits…briefly. A couple of the flower stalks were gnawed off and that was it, no more. One species of Lewisia is called bitterroot (Lewisia rediviva) but I suspect all or most species in the genus have bitter properties the rabbits don’t like. They also ignore an adjacent species in the xeriscape bed, Columbia lewisia (Lewisia columbiana).
Western wallflower (Erysimum capitatum) and nodding onion (Allium cernuum) are both rabbit
favorites so now they are fenced in like most beds in the garden at this point.
The French rose (Rosa gallica) is one of the bombproof, foundational plants in section B near the garden shed. The scent is what, in a perfect world, all roses would possess. I wonder how many of its flowers have been pollinated by the noses of humans. It starts flowering in May, along with the fragrant peonies in the next bed over.
I turned the corner just as this rabbit had toppled a stalk of false Solomon’s seal (Smilacina racemosa). Startled, it hopped off with the stalk dangling from its neck. Then it stopped to assess my threat level. Just the guy in the straw hat, an extremely ineffective, halfhearted predator, no worries. So it turned its head and started eating the dangling stalk off its back. And why not? There is a Buddhist parable about a man being chased by a tiger. At a cliff’s edge he has to jump to escape. Grabbing hold of a vine he hangs there, noticing with horror that there is another tiger pacing below. As it appears things can get no worse, a mouse saunters out and starts gnawing on the vine. At that moment the man sees some wild strawberries growing over the edge of the cliff. He reaches out and grabs one, popping a ripe, sweet, delicious fruit into his mouth. End of story. That’s a parable for you. So much to think about. The rabbit, the guy in the straw hat and the false Solomon’s seal stalk drama was not like that. Just another day in the herb garden.
Last two pollinators on campus. Just kidding. Grim as the insect news is all around the world, the garden is full of pollinators. The diversity of plant families and species represented in the garden attracts an endless stream of insect life. There is nowhere else like it on campus.
Northern bedstraw (Galium boreale) in section F. Roots are used for dyeing red, aerial parts are edible and medicinal. And the delicate beauty of the flowers and foliage make it a great ground cover in a place without foot traffic.
The two largest paw paw trees (Asimina triloba) finally put out a few flowers this year. Fingers crossed for more flowers and some fruit next year.
Lemon bee balm (Monarda citriodora) with bumble bee. It was a cool, wet morning and our bee is barely hanging on. Hopefully that is not its final death grip, though there are worse ways to die than clinging to a flower.
Devil’s shoestring (Nolina lindheimeriana) flowering for the first time in section D. If you find this plant in the wild…you’re in Texas.
Annual snake gourd (Trichosanthes cucumerina). They can grow up to 5 feet.
Luffa vines (Luffa aegyptiaca) in section C did very well in the steady warmth this summer. So many fruit which are edible when they’re immature and valuable as a spongey skin brush for the shower kit when they mature and dry out. The seeds are also edible.
That Bulldog garden fork is about 42″ tall. The tea tree (Melaleuca alternifolia) next to it is a good foot taller. That is how much it grew in one season. Last winter it died down to a stump. I cut it off at ground level and it didn’t even sprout new growth until late spring. There is a lot of energy stored in roots.
California nutmeg tree (Torreya californica) in the garden border. I started this tree as a seed and it’s now about 8 feet tall. It’s a slow but steady grower in the Cephalotaxaceae. We currently have another tree in this family, the Japanese plum yew (Cephalotaxus harringtonia) and soon I will find a place to plant a Chinese plum yew (Cephalotaxus fortunei).
There was no stiff wind blowing. That’s just the way rubber rabbitbrush (Ericameria nauseosa) grows. See it in section C. This species of Ericameria is called rubber ribbitbrush because of a latex sap in its roots. Flowers and stems are used to make a beautiful yellow dye.
A few feet away, Colorado four o’clock (Mirabilis multiflora) flowering like there’s no tomorrow. Not all flowers get pollinated but a higher percentage of the flowers produce seeds each year. Maybe the greater number of flowers is attracting a critical mass of pollinators or maybe the roots have stored up enough energy to sustain more seed production, or both…or neither. Maybe is a word that gets used a lot in the garden…by me anyway.
Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) was languishing in section E, weakened by the deep shade and competing roots from a nearby pin oak tree (Quercus palustris). It seems to be doing much better in section F. When plants aren’t thriving I will often try moving them if it’s feasible. Sometimes that does the trick.
Umbrella plant (Darmera peltata) leaves turning color in the Cascara Circle bog. Its native range is from southwestern Oregon to northwestern California.
Quaking aspen trees (Populus tremuloides) as fall color in Cascara Circle. Some warned that they would sucker up from the roots and the garden would wind up with an aspen grove. I can live with that.
The fruit of the pomegranate (Punica granatum) mature around here when the foliage is turning from green to yellow. That would be autumn. As autumn progresses and rains return, fruit left on the branches will often split and look like Pac-Man.
November color around section C looking south from the Chemistry lawn steps. The three red shrubs in the center are the unfortunately conceived snowball viburnum (Viburnum opulus var. freakshow). When it rains, their gigantic, sterile snowball flowers weigh the branches to the ground. What is wrong with Viburnum opulus in its wild state, with real flowers that produce actual fruit? That is why we call it the highbush cranberry. Ornamental plant breeding, like ornamental dog breeding is too often a solution in search of a problem. The yellow off to the left is one of several stately European beeches (Fagus sylvatica) to the west of Anderson hall. This is the time of year when they stand out.
That sculptural tangle is a meeting of California wild grape (Vitis californica) and highbush cranberry (Viburnum opulus…the real deal in its natural fruit-producing state).It didn’t take long for members of the local fauna to discover that grapes are edible, so the fruit disappear quickly. I hope the seeds are being deposited far and wide. Wild grapes are all good. A few feet away, a hedge of evergreen huckleberries (Vaccinium ovatum) has become the focus of the many resident songbirds. They’re hungry, it is cold and there is not as much to eat at this time of year.
Plants, plants, plants, is that all the land can bear, you ask? Why no, there’s fungus and owls and fearless blue creatures with long ears. Behold.
Campus porcini (Boletus edulis) near the garden. There were two in good shape. It looks like a squirrel sampled the goods. It’s common to find porcini with tooth marks, whether up in the mountains or down in the city, for they are toothsome. Back off, rodent.
Ready for the frying pan.
Old dependable keeping the grounds in order. Barred owls (Strix varia) are usually around the edges of the garden, often on the branches of conifers. Look up and you might see one. I take pictures of them because, unlike most birds around here, they sit there and pose. They’re easy.
And so was this guy. Near the garden, someone was walking him on a leash. The tortoise and the hare, we all know the Aesop fable. But domesticated rabbits are more like the tortoise than the hare. Unfortunately, they lack the protective carapace of the tortoise. Calm and imperturbable grazers, curious products of artificial selection, they seem to lack both the flight and the fight instinct. The woman walking him said he stared right at a coyote that had fixed him in its gaze one day on campus. And he didn’t blink. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, she picked the brave little nibbler up and moved on. Wise move.
We’re past the autumn cross-quarter day and the winter solstice is closing in. The coming weeks make for a good time to hunker down in the shortening, darkening days, dig deep and break the spell of last year. All that energy and wisdom you have stored up, pour it into the cauldron and stir slowly over the fire. Slowly. This is a time to slow down and breathe deeply. Get lots of sleep like the bears in their dens. Our work days should be shortened at this time of year. Really. We need that and we (even the whip-cracking bosses) would all be much better for it. Alas.
songbirds gathering
evergreen huckleberries
winter garden scene
See you in the garden.