Tag Archives: landscaping

Singing in the garden.

A finch was singing an exuberant evening song, as I gathered my trowel and gloves and empty plastic pots into the garage, planning to call it a day. It was 7:00, after all. But then I remembered I had wanted to take a picture of the rudbeckia, even though it is far from blooming; it’s huge, and so robust — much bigger than I imagined it would get, when I planted it last fall. I didn’t take its picture after all, but I did notice that my eight butternut squash plants nearby looked a little dry, so I dragged the hose over and gave them all a long drink. The pansies needed deadheading, so I did that as well….

Pineapple Guava

Today was warm enough that I could comfortably spend a few hours in my garden, and the whole time feel that I was floating from one blessed task from another, in my little piece of Paradise. Many of the plans I made in the fall are coming to fruition; the plants that I transplanted to and from the front and back gardens, and the new ones I installed, are thriving and starting to bloom. I am so thankful.

The area by the front door is still somewhat of a hodgepodge, at least while the California poppies and nigella are doing their thing. When they are done it will be a little less crowded, the clary sage (three plants!) will bloom, and that scent will quicken soul and body.

Nigella, Love-in-a-Mist, about to open.
Borage volunteer.

More and more, I realize that with home and garden things, the only one I need to please is myself — and I am trying to be easier to please. Last summer when I asked my old gardening friend to look at my garden with me, I thought she would be be wise about helping me with decisions, as she has known and helped me at various times since we were neighbors, decades ago. But back then we were similarly limited in what we could do with our gardens.

This time I was surprised and disillusioned. She scrutinized and judged my garden according to the principles she goes by in her own garden, which covers a couple of acres, and for which she has a full-time gardener to execute her designs. She told me I need more “white space.” After she went home I thought long and hard about that; I knew that what I really wanted was less white space.

Bugloss is also in the borage family.

This afternoon I planted two of the four tomato plants I bought recently. I am so excited about growing tomatoes again, now that I am using the sunnier front yard for things that need full sun. I also set out into my planter boxes the parsley and basil that looked like one plant each, in 4-inch pots. In the last few years these are so often actually several plants that are growing all crowded together. In this case I separated out eight tiny parsley plants and eleven basil plants! Of course, so tightly packed like that, many of them have minimal root systems, so they don’t usually all survive. I wish I could buy a six-pack instead, but such a thing isn’t to be had.

There are too many things I want to tell about, having to do with my beloved garden. They will have to spill over into another post, soon. I do want to say that I often think about how much my late husband would have liked this garden. I’m pretty sure he would be, or is, very happy that I took out the swimming pool and managed, with a lot of help, to create this special place. My heart is singing — and the olive trees are in bloom.

Chocolates and swans in the garden.

I noticed recently that I am always writing the same words about my garden. Things have changed a bit in the last year, though. I’m not sure the net result is positive, but maybe it will all lead to me saying something new eventually.

Echinacea with teucrium in background.

The new landscaper is soon going to be the former landscaper. He just doesn’t have a vision of garden beauty that matches mine, and I haven’t been won over. Unfortunately, I had to actually see his ideas “leafed out” before I could know how wrong they are; now I need to fix some design problems by moving plants in the fall, and buying a couple of new ones. I’d hoped to have all this done by last fall and to be enjoying the refurbished areas by now.

Chocolate Cosmos with an Iceland Poppy behind.

Oh, well, a garden is always a process, and I suppose it’s like with so many projects: everything takes longer than expected. And it is a joy to work out there, or to wander. I took a walk in a more upscale neighborhood near mine, and noticed that some front yards are tidy and boring, and some are a bit messy or hodgepodge-y. The latter are obviously houses where the owner(s) like gardening and are trying out different things, and don’t have the time or know-how to do the successive plantings or the upkeep to keep it looking interesting and orderly at the same time. So I won’t worry too much if mine is not perfect, either… It’s just that I thought the area right by the front door should look more put together than it does.

Lavender and fig tree

Depending on the viewing angle and size of frame you are focusing on, there are still some very nice scenes, front and back. Those are the ones I’m sharing in this post. My own hodgepodge I will ignore for now.

The Chocolate Cosmos is new to me and to the garden. There are three shades of color, and the plants I bought are medium-dark chocolate. They are perennials with a tuberous root, and reports conflict about whether they will even like winters here. I had to take out some very happy Iceland poppies to make a place for them; it must be that the poppies are getting enough shade there to keep blooming, and I’m glad I didn’t have to take them all out yet.

One thing I like is that the landscaper divided the White Swan echinacea so that I have more of it now; likewise a favorite violet salvia. I’m working on getting even more of those White Swans to plant in a couple of months before they go dormant.

Today I cleaned up around some plants, like the acanthus above, taking away dead leaves and pulling out little grass sprouts that are remnants of big ornamental grasses that I removed last year. The grass shoots were growing out of the Yerba Buena ground cover, too, so as I knelt on it or moved the long stems aside, its most delicious scents were released into the atmosphere.

It was only recently that I learned, or remembered, that these white echinaceas are called Swans. It really is the perfect name for them, and makes me love them more. My garden is overflowing with gifts

Frosty with ceanothus.

The sun shone in a blue sky, so I braved the chill to walk the creek path this morning. It wasn’t too cold at all. But when I got back, I saw that the fountain was still iced over. Behind it you can see the newly pruned pomegranate and plum.

January is progressing pretty much as usual in the garden, with the typically surprising, commonplace glories. Most of my landscaping does not go into dormancy, so every day reveals something showing its aliveness by a changed feature. A few asparagus had sprung up in the last week, so I cut them to put into soup for breakfast, along with a portion of those greens I harvested last week.

Dan the Landscaper added to the collection of new plants that arrived in nursery pots in November, and quite a few went into the ground last week, including the first-ever ceanothus that has lived on this property. It came with buds, and they are starting to open. Ceanothus is a genus of 50-60 species, sometimes called California Lilac, and I never remember their names, but we had a large one on our former property in another town, “long ago.”

ceanothus
Yarrow flowers of this morning.

When I type that common name it reminds me of my first encounter with this plant. My late husband and I had only been married a year when he returned from a backpacking trip with a friend, bringing me a flowering branch of white ceanothus that his hiking buddy had told him was California Lilac. The fragrance of those blooms imprinted itself on my mind. I think most of the blue or purple varieties are not that aromatic.

One plant I am most excited about having in my garden is Clary Sage — and I have three of them just planted. These are the white ones, which I haven’t had before, but I expect to love them as much as the purple I’ve had in the past. Clary sage is a biennial, so I have to remember to have new ones going in every year, if I want to have it blooming regularly in June. This picture below is from the back garden, in ’23. My little starts only have about ten leaves each at this point, and can’t be expected to bloom until spring of next year.

Clary Sage in 2023

While I wait for the new landscaping to get installed and to grow up, I put in various bulbs and annuals, so that when I go in and out the front door I can be cheered by their colors. I see the leaves of muscari and anemones poking up, but right now it is the wholesome faces of the common pansies that greet me every day. This one is saying hello to you right now.

Gardeners happy in the weather.

Strawberry tree (arbutus) fruit I didn’t get to eat.

Last week we got quite a drenching, and it was exhilarating. Early in the week the wind blew down pine needles and strawberry fruit, midweek featured 5+ inches falling on one day, and the day after that the landscaper “Dan” worked in the rain all day and installed many plants in my front yard. He was sopping at the end, and only quit when he did because he still had to drive an hour to get home before dark; his eyesight is not good and he’s having cataract surgeries starting this week — hence the need to accomplish as much as he could beforehand. The things not planted are waiting in the utility yard. Look at those ferns! I’ve never had ferns in my garden before.

I worked outside myself, consulting with Dan and looking on as he tested how plantable the soil was after all that wetting. We were both amazed to find bone dry soil under some of the areas that had been thickly covered in mulch. Other places near the borders of the space, with less mulch, standing water filled the holes several inches down, in clay, and he didn’t plant there. While Dan soldiered away completely exposed (in his thin rain suit), I spent most of my time in the garage with the big doors wide open, organizing, cleaning and sorting, and when I took things to the trash bins or did a little trimming of dead flowers, I didn’t get very wet. I was wearing waterproof boots and a rain jacket.

The temperature was mild, so we were able to enjoy our work and the invigorating weather without being cold. That air was a strong tonic. I was happy to get started on the small area of relandscaping, and to have someone to talk to about all the plants and how to arrange them; he said he always loves planting; we were both joyful because we are always greedy for rain in California. Oh, and it was definitely a relief to see the garage quite a bit tidier.

From time to time when I went into the house I would put another log in the stove, so that when darkness fell and I closed all the doors and window shades, oh how cozy I was.