Friday, May 10, 2024

Foliage Friday

I noticed a post on Instagram last week referencing (hashtag) "Foliage Friday" - or maybe it was "Friday Foliage."  As I have a fondness for alliteration and as Pam Penick of Digging retired her Foliage Follow-up meme years ago, I thought that would make a good title for one of my occasional foliage posts.  In May, when the focus on flowers is at its spring peak, a foliage cleanse seems all the more important.

I collected photos of my current foliage fixations.

These shots feature Abelia 'Kaleidoscope' in my back and front garden areas.  The shrubs add a touch of sunshine on the gloomiest days.

I planted dwarf Japanese maple, Acer palmatum 'Mikawa Yatsubusa', along the fence in my cutting garden in February 2011.  While it's said to grow up to 6 feet tall and wide, mine is less than half that size, which is just fine.  I've never pruned it.

In contrast, managing the size of this coral bark maple, Acer palmatum 'Sango Kaku', is a challenge.  The goal is to keep it just below the top of the garage roof, while also containing its girth within my cutting garden.  In my climate, Japanese maples want protection from intense sun, as well as wind.  They've done well in the cutting garden, while I've lost those I've tried to plant elsewhere.

Refreshed by winter's rain, the ordinary green Aeonium arboreum are looking their best

The huge rosettes of Aeonium canariense are doing well next to the garage

I like Aeonium 'Zwartkop' best when its bare lower legs are hidden by other succulents as is the case here

I cut back these 3 Agonis flexuosa 'Nana' hard in January and sprayed Neem oil to address a problem with thrips.  They've been slow to fill out, possibly because our temperatures have been lower than usual, but thankfully the foliage looks healthy.  Long before year-end, the shrubs are likely to fill the entire space with those empty spaces no longer visible.

This is the most sculptural of my artichokes, which according to my records is Cynara 'Purple Romagna'.  The chokes are a lovely deep purple.  My only issue with it is that it's the thorniest artichoke I've ever seen.  I prune away the leaves at the back of the plant so they don't stab me or the gardeners who trim the hedge behind it 4 times a year.

This is Dais cotinifolia, aka pom-pom tree, which I planted in February 2019.  Supposedly, it accepts pruning to create a bushy shrub but it's refused to fill out so it's living on borrowed time.

I love to watch the persimmon trees leaf out each year.  This one planted against the fence is Diospyros kaki 'Fuyu'.

The persimmon in the background of the north-side garden is Diospyros kaki 'Hachiya'.  The bright spring green color of its leaves makes me happy.

This is one of 2 Echium wildpretii I planted in a relatively dry area in front of the garage in April 2022.  They've remained relatively small and show absolutely no intention to bloom.  I love the plant's shape but, if it doesn't do well after 2 years of exceptional rain, I'm unlikely to plant it again.

My Ginkgo biloba 'Autumn Gold' tree, planted in May 2021 to replace the mimosa tree (Albizia julibrissin) that died, is doing okay, although it's yet to produce the fall leaf color its name suggests.  It's still loosely tied to the support provided when we planted it because the wind in this area can be brutal.

I still haven't gotten around to pruning the ginormous Leucadendron 'Chief' shown here nearly enveloping the smaller Leucadendron 'Ebony'

I did lightly prune this Leucadendron 'Jester' and appreciate the fresh foliage that generated.  Luckily, its bare legs are hidden by the Lobelia laxiflora in front and the large Melianthus major behind it.

The tree-sized Leucadendron 'Pisa' is doing its spring thing with masses of chartreuse yellow-green bracts.  These are congregated at the tips of the tallest branches because the branches don't respond well to pruning into bare wood.

I affixed signs in English and Spanish asking the gardeners not to hedge prune my Leucadendron 'Wilson's Wonder' this year.  My 2 plants deserve more space than I allotted them but I think this one benefited from the gentler pruning job I did.

Mangave 'Mission to Mars' responded well to the rain, gaining some girth.  It's book-ended by Aeonium 'Jack Catlin' cuttings that formed nice clumps.

Mangave 'Red Wing' is happier in the ground than it's been in pots

This isn't the best photo but the plants grabbed my attention for 2 reasons.  First, 2 of my 3 'Tom Thumb' Phormiums survived gopher activity in the area.  Second, the fern was a surprise.  In general, ferns do not survive in my garden.  I'm not even sure which one of several I tried in this area this one is, especially as I don't think I've seen it in years.  My best guess is that it's Rumohra adiantiformis (aka leather leaf fern) but it could be Asplenium x 'Austral Gem'.


Coincidentally, another opportunity for alliteration presented itself this week: peacock plumage.  In the dozen-plus years we've lived here, peacock sightings have been infrequent.  Although the birds have been prevalent in our peninsula since at least the 1920s (you can find a brief history here), we'd only seen juvenile males occasionally when they're kicked out of the family nests, but they never hung around our immediate area for long.  However, that's changed this year.  Some were spotted a couple of months ago about a mile away on the grounds of the former Marymount University (now owned by UCLA).  Not long afterwards, an adult male moved into our neighborhood.  At least three peahens were spotted a week later and the assumption is that nesting is in process.  They'd steered clear of our house, though, preferring to hang out near homes with pine trees, where I'm told the females like to nest to stay safe from coyotes.  That remained the case until Wednesday morning.

The peacock's cries were unusually loud.  My husband said it sounded like he was in our front garden, which is exactly where I found him, lounging casually in our Magnolia tree.

As I took photos from different angles, he grew uneasy

My strategy worked.  As I followed him, he flew onto the house roof, then onto the garage roof, and then into my newly renovated succulent bed before finally headed up the street in the direction of his usual haunts.  Peacocks don't like paparazzi.


Best wishes for a peaceful weekend.


All material © 2012-2024 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party


Wednesday, May 8, 2024

The bright spots in my daily walks

Spring isn't just wonderful in my garden.  My entire neighborhood is full of color, even though there are relatively few committed gardeners to be found.  I thought I'd share some of the highlights I've seen in the past few weeks before summer moves in and toasts the display.

The entrance to our neighborhood is currently decked out in a massive display of Echiums, Centranthus ruber, and Limonium perezii, all of which are effectively wildflowers here

One neighbor's Beschorneria yuccoides has lived up to its potential

February's post on neighborhood gardens featured lots of succulents.  While they're still a prominent feature, I'm sharing just 3 shots of succulents this month.  Clockwise from the upper left are: what I think is an Agave potatorum sitting atop a wall; a cluster of Aloe maculata in full flower; and what I believe are ice plants (possibly Delosperma) growing through shrubs. 

Clockwise from the upper left are several colorful shrubs: a hybrid broom (Cytisus), a Pelargonium hybrid, Polygala grandiflora, and what I've always thought must be a Salvia.  The last is a huge evergreen plant (at least 4x4 feet) blanketed with tiny blue flowers for much of the year.  I've looked at plants in both the Salvia and Lobelia genera and haven't found a clear match.  My phone's ID app was no help.

White flowering shrubs include: Cistus ladanifer (aka white rockrose), what may be a Cotoneaster, and Prunus caroliniana (aka Carolina cherry)

Rhizomatous and bulb flowers: Iris orientalis, Ornithogalum (aka Star of Bethlehem) and, Watsonia

Other spring-flowering plants include: Alstroemeria, Eschscholzia californica (California poppies), and Thunbergia gregorii (aka orange clockvine)

Roses, other than the white 'Iceberg' variety, are relatively uncommon in front gardens here but there are some.  Those shown here are all from one neighbor's garden.  She told me she planted 70-odd roses and every one of them looks fabulous.  On the top row are 'Brandy', Julia Child', and one she couldn't name.  In the middle are 2 shots of 'Perfect Moment'.  Directly adjacent to the street are a variety of carpet roses (bottom row).

Roses in other neighbors' gardens include these 2


It's not just plants that give the neighborhood color either.

Mr Peacock is still with us, although I hear him (constantly!) more often than I've seen him recently.  The members of his harem are shyer and quieter, probably busy sitting on nests in the pine trees they favor.

When I stopped across the street with some flowers for a neighbor this week, I got a peek at the baby finches in a nest built inside a wreath on the front door.  My neighbor told me that she's stopped putting up fancier wreaths as the finches build nests in them every year.


My sightings were generally limited to those portions of front gardens visible from the street.  On this occasion, all my photos were taken using my mobile phone. 


All material © 2012-2024 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party


Monday, May 6, 2024

In a Vase on Monday: Casualties of wind and rain

It had appeared that our rainy season was over.  Even the UCLA climate scientist I depend on for a clear picture of what's happening with California's weather had said that the southern part of our state, with the possible exception of the mountain areas, would be unlikely to see any more rain after mid-April.  Local forecasters gave us a small chance of rain this past weekend but, when I checked the forecast on Saturday, the rainfall estimate was a paltry 0.01/inch.  As a result, I was surprised to wake up and find that we'd received 0.17/inch of rain.  We were also plagued by gusty winds.  The result was that Mother Nature selected most of what ended up in my vases this week.

I featured a post on my steep back slope last Friday.  The space looks its best in spring when everything is growing like crazy but I acknowledge that some of the plants are a bit too exuberant and in need of pruning, if only to eliminate tripping hazards.  That was all too clear on Sunday morning when the combination of wind and rain plastered flower stems across the stairway that offers the only passage in and out of the area.

I cut about 2 dozen tall stems of pink and white Centranthus, many of which I found lying flat on the ground

Back view

Top view: I selected pink Alstroemeria to complement the Centranthus

Clockwise from the upper left: noID pink Alstroemeria, Argyranthemum 'Grandaisy Dark Pink', Centranthus ruber, C. r. 'Albus', Daucus carota 'Dara', and Fuchsia 'Windchimes Upright White'


On Saturday, I'd eyed the Hippeastrum stems in one of my borders for possible use in a vase but I wasn't sure I wanted to sacrifice one of the few remaining stems.  Mother Nature made that decision for me too by snapping a couple of them.  One was no longer vase-worthy but the other became the focus of my second arrangement.

I added larkspur stems from my cutting garden, which had also been battered by the wind

I dressed up the back of the vase with a single stem of Argyranthemum, which has formed a dense mass of primrose yellow flowers filling most of a barrel in my cutting garden

Top view

Clockwise from the upper left: Alstroemeria 'Claire', Argyranthemum 'Angelic Maize', 2 variations of Consolida ajacis from the 'Summer Skies Mix', Hippeastrum 'Luna', Lathyrus odoratus 'April in Paris', and Prostanthera ovalifolia 'Variegata'


For more IAVOM creations, check in with our host, Cathy at Rambling in the Garden.




All material © 2012-2024 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party


Friday, May 3, 2024

Beauty & chaos on the back slope

Largely hidden from view, my back slope on the east side of our property generally peaks in late April/early May and this year is no exception.  It's invisible from the main level of our lot so visitors seldom see it.  Even I didn't know it was there until the day of the final inspection prior to closing our purchase of the house.  In the early days of living here, we ventured down there only to pick lemons as the trip to the bottom via a slippery dirt path was treacherous.  I fell on my back side more times than I can count until my husband created a stairway out of concrete blocks to ease the passage.  Once that was in place, I started planting and gradually transformed the space.  It receives relatively little attention and just a bit of water but somehow manages to shine for a time each year following our winter rainy season.

The back slope is accessed through the gravel path in the north-side garden.  The concrete stairway starts where the path reaches the fence that separates our property from our neighbor on the north side.

The steep upper side of the slope (right) is covered in ivy and honeysuckle and I've abandoned all hope of terracing it.  However, I've planted the area between the stairway and the bay laurel hedge, as well as the area surrounding the lemon tree at the bottom.
I planted Ribes viburnifolium (aka Catalina currant, no longer in flower) in the upper area and added divisions of Centranthus ruber and artichoke plants there, which return each year with increased vigor

Clockwise from the upper left are: Geranium incanum, a vigorous weed that regularly pops up in the ivy-covered upper slope; artichoke plants that I sometimes allow to flower instead of eating; and a variety of white and pink Centranthus.  Over time, the Centranthus has self-seeded throughout the back slope.

The mid-section of the slope is the most colorful, at least at present

Aeonium 'Velour' mingles with Euphorbia 'Dean's Hybrid' (left) and Lampranthus 'Kaboom' (right) competes for attention

Everything I planted in the lower section of the slope seems to be fighting for space

This is a view of the same area from the other side, where a narrow dirt path separates the bed from the bay laurel hedge.  More Euphorbia 'Dean's Hybrid' has seeded itself here.  In the foreground on the right, trailing Lantana montevidensis and Vesalea floribunda 'Chiapas' (aka Mexican abelia) have merged together.

In addition to Agave attenuata (originally planted as pups taken from elsewhere in the garden), more Aeonium arboreum and a cluster of noID bearded Iris, the area sports clusters of self-seeded Pelagonium 'White Lady' and Santolina chamaecyparissus (top row).  The bottom row shows closeups of 'White Lady' and 'Chiapas'.

Two Aloe elgonica, gifts from Denise of A Growing Obsession, are nearly buried among the other plants.  At a minimum, I need to move the one on the right, which is almost invisible under the arm of an Agave attenuata.

This is the flat area at the bottom of the slope, sandwiched between the lemon tree that came with the garden on the right and Ceanothus arboreus 'Cliff Schmidt' I planted on the left.  With all the calla lilies (Zantedeschia aethiopica) and Centranthus there, it's almost impossible to navigate at the moment.

A humongous Bignonia capreolata covers the wire fence between us and our neighbor on the north side at the southeastern extreme of her lot.  Although the giant trunk of the plant sits on our property (long story preceding our ownership of the property, when the property lines were under dispute), the vine remains for the neighbor's benefit.  I've previously been confused about whether this is a Bignonia or a Campsis but, based on closer looks at the leaves and flowers of each, I believe it's a Bignonia.

I discovered more gopher activity immediately adjacent to the neighbor's wire fence

Clockwise from the upper left are other plants in this area: California poppies (Eschscholzia california), Drimia maritima, Romneya coulteri (aka Matilija poppy), Stachys byzantina, and Zantedeschia aethopica.  The Romneya was a serious mistake on my part as it's a thug.  Although beautiful, I've tried and failed to remove it several times.


The flat area at the bottom of the slope sits alongside the property line with our neighbor on the southeast side.  The tree-sized Ceanothus and two Pittosporum 'Silver Magic' mark our side of the line on one end, where the land drops off on the other side.

There's no fence between us and the neighbors on the south side and their raised planters are openly visible from our side

The ivy was cut back hard on both sides of the property line last year but the rain has brought it back as a living wall between us on the left side of the Ceanothus.  The ground under the ivy is too uneven to walk on safely.


As the temperatures rise, the fire ants are likely to follow and, when that happens, my time on the back slope will be limited once again.  As it is, while working in the area earlier this week, I tucked my pants into my socks and donned boots to protect me from the miserable creatures.

Here are a couple of views from the bottom of the slope looking upward to conclude our visit:

I really should clear the plants infringing on the stairs to avoid tripping hazards.  Maybe I'll move some of the Pelargonium clumps to my renovated succulent bed.




Best wishes for a wonderful weekend.  I'll close with a few photos of flowers that appeared elsewhere in my garden this week.  My guess is they won't make it to Bloom Day.

This is a hybrid Vireya Rhododendron I bought as an experiment last December.  I'd almost given up on it blooming as Rhododendrons (with the exception of some Azaleas) don't like SoCal.

Bearded Iris 'City Lights' (left) and Sprekelia formosissima (aka Aztec lily, right) have each honored me with one of their uncommon visits




All material © 2012-2024 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party