Friday Night Botanical Garden

How I do enjoy visiting the Botanical Garden after work.

Even more so on a Friday.

San Franciscans are chillaxing in the park.



It's been hot in the Bay Area. Yesterday, all the floats in my Galileo thermometer sank to the bottom. My laboratory thermometer said it was 104 degrees F in my garden. I set a digital thermometer in a ceramic container I grow tomatoes in, and it read 124 degrees F!

Anyhow, we're taking it easy.



Aesculus californica, the California Buckeye; my favorite flower of late spring, early summer.



This is the tree.





















That's Cussonia paniculata (Araliaceae). The cabbage tree has gone from being something that I didn't notice, to something that I didn't care for, to something that I didn't hate, to a South African species that I appreciated, to a fun plant that I could conceivably have in my garden one day, to a functional vertical element that I ought to start getting serious about, to a plant that I NEED TO HAVE RIGHT NOW. This is its foliage.



Anyhow, I'm thinking I'll buy the largest specimen I can find that will fit in my car. I really shouldn't plant anything until October. It could also work as a container plant in a back corner. I'll move forward once I settle on the details.

Now back to the Botanical Garden.







I'm keeping my eye on the Agave chiapensis inflorescence.















Leptospermum rotundifolium.





It would be nice to have a Banksia too. Now that I have the basic native plant framework established in my garden--the number one planting priority for me--it's fun to think about folding in other mediterraneans.





Acmena smithii, was Eugenia smithii, in fruit (Myrtaceae). The common name is lillipilly or lilly-pilly. The berries are supposed to be edible, but I've never tasted them--have you?



The dangling red foliage belongs to another Australian Myrtaceae, Angophora costata. I guess I didn't take a picture of the whole tree, but it's not a great specimen anyway. Opposite leaves distinguish this genus from Eucalyptus (for one thing).











This was super-fragrant from several feet away.

"Tasting the Bounty"

The New York Times wrote about San Francisco's farmer's markets today:

Nearly every day year-round, there is a farmers’ market to check out, offering not only plenty to taste and buy, but sights, sounds and people-watching. Even if it’s not practical to construct a perfect salad back at the hotel room or tote heirloom tomatoes home on an airplane, the markets of San Francisco are worth visiting as a spectacle in themselves.

The markets come into their full glory starting in May, with the arrival of stone fruits like cherries, peaches and pluots — a juicy cross between a plum and an apricot — adding to seasonal vegetables and the year-round fare of olive oil, organic honey, goat and cow’s milk cheese, greens, walnuts, beef and more.

Did you not know what a pluot is?

I find the nicest farmer's markets to be a little too crowded for me, and the not-so-nice ones to be a inferior to my corner market. But they really are all over town--including the one downtown (mentioned later in the article), where my friend Emma's son sells artisan bread. And I just learned my current employer, UC San Francisco, has a farmer's market on campus every Wednesday. So I will have to check that out for for you. I mean me. I mean us.

I was esp. gratified to see farmer's market in my neighborhood mentioned--where, as the article leaves unmentioned, you can buy live chickens for your own home slaughtering:

At 7:30 a.m. on a spring Saturday, clusters of Chinese shoppers were already jostling for the freshest bok choy and choy sum at the market on Alemany Boulevard. Others headed for Maria del Carmen Flores’s grilled pupusas, a tasty El Salvadoran corn cake filled with beans and cheese. Danny Grossman, a shopper, discussed his morning finds — a bouquet of rainbow-stemmed chard for $1, organic strawberries for $3 a pint.

If the Ferry Plaza is the prince of the city’s markets, displaying its produce like buffed jewels, Alemany is its down-home uncle — a place where a panoply of fresh food and flowers are sold in a bustling parking lot. “No porcini ravioli here,” Mr. Grossman said. “There’s still dirt on the leaves.”

The scene is San Francisco eclectic. As sweatpants-clad shoppers mingled, the Prairie Rose Band, its lead singer dressed in cow-pattered fake fur chaps, twanged bluegrass tunes on a banjo and fiddle. Patrons in knit caps joined impromptu drum circles. Asian grandmothers stared at a tattooed man with a giant iguana on his bicycle handlebars. Hand-painted murals of produce, flowers and the Buddha adorned the selling stalls.

As much as I enjoy reading about San Francisco--and Bernal Heights--in the New York Times, I want to say the most amazing farmer's market that I have ever been to was not in San Francisco, but in Portland, Oregon at the state university. What a sight that was!

Bloom Day

My garden's spring wildflower show is winding down. Since I've blogged about it extensively, I won't take up much space with it here. Scroll over the pictures for the name of the flower, or click the pictures for larger file sizes.





Actually, here are two that we haven't seen much of, yet:

Collinsia heterophylla--this one is pure white, but they can be purple-white bi-color as well.



and Mentzelia lindleyi--these seem to be later than the rest. They want to be near aloe and agave, don't you think? (I took these pictures late in the afternoon; it was getting relatively dark.)



So far, the wind poppy Stylomecon heterophylla has the most intriguing fruit.



This is the capsule ripening:



Not quite ripe:



Then I found one that was ripe. I don't know yet if the pore you see open at the capsule's apex expands down the valve and releases seed that way (valvular, basipetal), or if the pore stays where it is here and the seeds get shaken out by the wind (censer action):



Either way, I plan to collect as much seed by hand as possible so I can be sure to have at least a few plants where I want them next year. Also, I want to share. Let me know if you want any wildflower seeds from my garden and I will give you some. (E-mail lcbii@yahoo.com and we'll hope you don't get shunted to my spam folder.)

While for the most part, my garden is transitioning into summer (Clarkia amoena, Delphinium cardinale, and Oenotheras pallida and hookeri are all in bud; Madia elegans is growing rapidly now), I still see at least one new-ish Anemone flower every time I look in this corner.



Two plants are very clear about the seasonal progression...

Carpinteria californica--this temperamental native is endangered in the wild but generally available in the nursery trade,



and Mimulus aurantiacus--less commonly available but widely seen this time of year in California's natural areas.



I have two cultivars, the unnamed one above, and 'Trish', below:



Besides natives, I have some garden standards like abutilon and foxglove. I actually removed a foxglove next to this abutilon because I think the former was suppressing the latter's growth. I want that abutilon to get much bigger, soon.



A new abutilon:



And another new Abutilon I haven't planted yet to replace foxglove.



A non-abutilon future foxglove replacement.



(It has the absolute best name ever--it's the Marble Gardens Mystery Rose. Doesn't that make you want to visit Marble Gardens?)

I got this Cotula at Annie's Annuals too.



I love it.



Fuchsia boliviana 'Alba'...



Making new flowers despite unresolved suspected nutrient deficiency (so not K or P, I guess).



Not shown: random heucheras, penstemons, geraniums, snap peas, and sweet peas. Some salvias and a gaura. Sidalcea and Cerinthe. Iris. Tomatoes and squash.

Let's see...am I forgetting anything?



I imagine this will be the busiest Garden Blogger Bloom Day yet. Beat the heat by digging the scene at Carol's Bloom Day extravaganza, here.

San Francisco drivers--an off-topic rant.

Dear San Francisco drivers,

When you have the right-of-way at an intersection, I urge you to take it. Use it. Exercise your right to go. By going. Go.

Or "GO!" as I screamed at the umpteenth person I lately encountered who, instead of going, lingered.

Why linger? You got there first. It's your right to go. You should go. I entreat you to go. Your lingering disrupts the rhythm of things. You're not helping. In fact, you're harming. You slow things down. You make driving worse than it already is.

Are you not aware that it's your right to go first when you stop first? It is! And when you stop at the same time, right-of-way passes to person on the right. Yes, that's you! It's your turn! So go.

Has this knowledge lately fallen out of human awareness--like the One Ring lost in the Misty Mountains until stumbled upon by Bilbo Baggins? No, I don't think that's it...

I think people just aren't paying attention. They experience genuine surprise to find another person at the intersection. It's, like, "Oh my gosh! There's another person in the world driving right now! And he's at my intersection--what are the odds of that? (Is that why the stop sign is there in the first place?) Geez, I wonder who should go."

This happens when people are not paying attention. Because if you're paying attention to the world outside of your vehicular enclosure it's easy to notice who's stopping when and where. I know because I do it all the time and I'm nothin' special. It can be easy for you too. Just try paying attention. You'll see.

Yours truly,

chuck b., my back 40 (feet)

Yet more garden pictures.

Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta.







Purple Needlegrass.











I wish the Samubus mexicana would grow faster. Guy gave me permission to remove the bamboo if I planted a bougainvillea. I might just do it.



I don't really need his permission, but it's nice to have everyone on board for major changes. Besides a bougainvillea, removing the bamboo would give me more room for vegetables, and a fruit tree.

Indian Rock Park

I did a few things in the East Bay yesterday, including making an introduction to mmw at Two Gardens, and this stop at Indian Rock Park.



Basically a giant rock outcrop in the middle of north Berkeley.



There were a lot of people so we didn't stay long.



The views were typically impressive for the East Bay hills.





The same giant rocks turn up throughout in the neighborhood.



I guess some people have a hard time figuring out what to do with them.

Weekend garden

We have to enjoy this now, because I'm not sure if we're going to have it again next year or not.



Kirsten says you don't get a sense of its true size on the blog. (She obviously wants me to put more pictures of her on the blog.)



Another wildflower, newly blooming. Mentzelia lindleyi, Blazing Star. I'm at a complete loss for how to describe its fragrance except to say that it's good.



The Carpenteria californica is blooming now too. Its fragrance is like vanilla.











Squash is blooming in the vegetable garden.



And the peas are just huge. Daily tip-pinching is vital to keep them under control.



I made some new acquisitions today at Dry Garden in Oakland. Or maybe Berkeley. Aloe polyphylla. It seems like it was always just a matter of time before I got one of these.



And I bought a small agave. The guy said it won't get more than a foot wide, or so. Agave verschaffeltii. (If you've seen a picture of its inflorescence, please point me to it.)



And one more thing, this Abutilon.



At this point, I think I'm well-stocked to replace the foxgloves when they go down. 'Apricot Beauty' is a real stretch for the name.



They're pink.