April garden

I usually have flowers in April from annuals I planted the previous fall, but not this year. It's very sad. On the other hand, I spend a lot of time complaining generally about insufficient flowers. I have this idea that moving to a bigger, sunnier lot in the suburbs will ease my frustration. Probably not anytime real soon.

This is one of the first plants I bought six years ago when I started the garden. Some commercial variety of Tiarella cordifolia, I presume. J'adore. Once upon a time, I had several clumps of it. Now just two or three. So I'll have to divide it this year and propagate some more.



I got the birdbath right, for now. Right, as in "standing straight up". I don't see as many birds using it nowadays. I think that's because shrubs have grown over head and it is not quite so exposed. So either they don't see it, or they do not feel safe using it. Move the birdbath or cut the shrubs?



We had some rain on Monday, but we are moving in to the long dry season. When the moss DISAPPEARS.



I moved some things around. The Beschoreneria in the upper-middle of the picture is in a pot. They don't need any water so I dropped it in a hole under the buckeye. I took the monardella and freesia out of the pot with the Phormium 'Black Adder' and I'm just going to let that green succulent fill in around it. I forget the name. Sedum something.



The gray leaves talk to the artichoke planted nearby. And the artichoke talks to another Phormium 'Black Adder' nearby it.



Maybe probably too nearby.



And then there's another Beschorneria and two cordyline. I take this picture constantly. Sorry. It's a small garden. I have taken many different pictures over the years, but there are some I seem to take over and over.



Camassia is the springiest thing flowering right now. I have three clumps of various ages and sizes.







Up above the garden Ceanothus 'Ray Hartman' is still going strong.



And neighbors.



I think I mentioned the buckeye didn't flower, right? Oh well. Maybe next year.



I don't know if you remember, but awhile ago I let a passionflower engulf the princess plant. That was a fun experiment, but I'm happier with out the passionflower. It was all leaves anyway. Now I have a place to hang glass ornaments, which I would like to buy many more of. I should investigate something besides twine to hang them with.



Not all twine-like supports are bad. I guess it depends on the size of the ornament.

Angel Island

Sunday was my last day of spring break before the last quarter of my Master's program. We spent it on Angel Island, the bay's largest natural island. Larger Alameda was a peninsula until 1901 when the marsh connecting it to the mainland was removed for a shipping channel. Angel Island became an island itself 10,000 years ago after the last ice age. Miwok hunted deer here for 2000 years before the Spanish arrived in 1775. It was a military fort during the Civil War, and an immigration station until WWII. Angel Island became a state park in 1962.

It's 25 minutes by ferry from Pier 41 with views of the Golden Gate,



Sutro Tower,



Coit Tower,



The new Bay Bridge,



Alcatraz,



and Marin.



It's a lovely place for hiking or camping. I have long wanted to camp here for the night.



We actually, gasp, rented Segways. It was Guy's idea. He found it on Groupon. I have to say, once you're riding the Segway you don't feel like you look like a tool... And you can make them go pretty fast. That's always good. Anyway, you can also rent bikes to circle the island. But to see the prettiest parts, I think you must walk.

















Many people come to see the immigration station, where thousands of would-be Chinese immigrants were detained for years at a time.



Waiting indefinitely, some carved poems in the walls.







There are several of them. These are the "poems on a weary wall" in the Rich poem I posted the other day.

Other remnant's of the island's past remain as well. The serpentine quarry,



Cannon battery,



All kinds of old buildings





where "old ghosts crouch hoarsely whispering".