casa coniglio

I was hesitant to get a Christmas tree this year. Although it is dramatic, beautiful, fragrant and the ultimate symbol of the season, it seemed a shame to be killing a living thing for ornamentation in the house. Yes, I understand that Christmas tree farms, since they are long term land management, as opposed to farming, are generally thought to be good for the land in terms of soil conservation and wildlife benefit. But still, hacking down a tree seems almost criminal. Call me crazy. It wouldn't be the first time.

I wouldn't get a "living tree" either. Those balled and burlapped trees rarely live beyond the holiday, and take a huge amount of effort. My understanding it that their production isn't as beneficial to the land as the regular cut tree. Most importantly, I don't have anywhere in my garden to plant such a tree, if it were to live.

What I would like to see is the use of invasive trees as holiday decoration. Those siberian elms have an attractive winter branching structure, especially when at a height that would be useful for indoor use. Although deciduous, I remember the Laura Ingalls Wilder book where in the story (was it "The Long Winter?") they didn't have any evergreen trees on the plains, and they used a deciduous tree, and decorated it lavishly. I did this last year, when due to travel, we would not be around to appreciate or dispose of a cut evergreen tree, and decorated the bare branches of a siberian elm in my house. I thought it was beautiful, in a more spare, modernistic way. I took the idea from Sunset magazine (see Sunset.com or Dec. 2005 issue - photo from their article, below).


Here's my version this year, also with siberian elm:

As it turns out, I was outvoted. We got a cut tree (top photo). It is delightful. And fragrant. And I got to unpack the ornaments.

Here's Karl, weighed down by heavy snow.

With the weather as it has been - rainy, snowy, and downright cold, I've stayed indoors. With the semester done, I've celebrated by making cookies.

how scared would you be?

What if it were your "back-up" wish?

at least it can snow.

Despite the cold spell which knocked out the flowers (and fragrance) of my Osmanthus heterophyllus, this fall has been relatively mild. I know that because of the appearance of the plants in my garden during my first foray out in a month (now that thesis is predominantly done). Things are starting to look wintry, but there is still some floral color to add to the winter foliage. Although natural areas of Albuquerque are predominantly brown and grey in the winter, my garden is a bit different. I even saw a rose in perfect bloom in my friend's garden yesterday. Although fall and winter get me depressed, I have to look on the bright side of things.

First the leaves.

While my back was turned, Eriogonum umbellatum has changed into its winter wardrobe of burgundy.
So has Penstemon clutei (which I call P. cutie-i)
The strawberry ('Mara de Bois') has turned a striking red-orange.

Karl (Calamogrostis x acutiflora 'Karl Foerster') has turned mostly yellow and beige.
Juniper 'Wichita Blue' forms a nice scene against the Sandias.
Now the flowers:

Amazingly, there are still flowers on Salvia 'Indigo Spires' which usually blackens and dies to the ground in October's cold spells.
Salvia chamaedryoides also has some flowers left.
Savia coahuilensis has been surprisingly tough, and although it has a bit of a scraggly appearance, it blooms for a very long time (nonstop since June). It is spreading through underground rhizomes, and I may have to pull them out as they encroach on other plants.
Most of my rosemaries have some flowers on them, almost as good a show as early spring - maybe better on some plants.
This wild erigeron only has one flower on it, but it was so charming that I had to take a photo.

Had my thesis defense yesterday. It went well and soon I will be graduating! Just have to get through finals. Very exciting.

I almost missed documenting the color of the three-leaf sumac in my front yard. Some plants were a bland muddy yellow, but this one colored nicely. Some years, this one becomes a claret red, other years it has turned burgundy, but this year it has turned an eye-catching orange-red.

The cold destroyed the Osmanthus heterophyllus flowers just as they were beginning to open. Very disappointing. But there are a few spots of floral color in the garden left. Rosemary 'Gorizia' (above) is still pumping out some flowers, but it is the form of the plant that I'm most impressed with. Dittany of Crete (Origanum dictamnus, below) will keep its color for some time even after freeze-dried by winter cold.



The last of the Crocus speciosus is blooming (above), forming a nice contrast to the fall leaves and the 'Angelina' sedum. There are still quite a few flowers on the Salvia chamaedryoides (below) although the winter will freeze the plants back to the ground.

Not a lot of posts lately since it's crunch time for thesis. I'll be presenting my thesis on December 3, at the University of New Mexico, at 9 am. It is open for any who are interested. The working title is "Healing the Land, Healing Ourselves." The long subtitle is "A physician's perspective of land's connection to health."

It got cold last night, down into the 20's, and it's supposed to get down to 19 tonight. Looks like the Osmanthus performance is going to get cut off. The roses are already withered, although the Crocus speciosus, the Salvia coahuilensis and the Dittany of Crete still look good. Once the leaves fall, there will be little happening in the garden until spring. Sigh. Good thing I have orchids.

Today Mr. Subjunctive was commenting on his blog (Plants are the Strangest People) about a scent created by Demeter Fragrances called "Dirt," which actually smells like ...dirt. Unlike others, being a scent-aholic, I'm kind of intrigued by this. These are scents that supposedly smell like what it is called (well, except "earthworm"), not inspired by the name. It's got to be better than the awful body odor of some people in the plant club (I mean that "have you EVER heard of a shower?"kind of smell). I see that the line also carries scents such as "Bonfire", "Cannabis flower", "Earthworm" ("not the worm itself, but where it lives...", "Fresh Hay", "Grass", "Greenhouse", "Fireplace", "Mesquite", "Stable" ("Fresh Hay and muck, sweet animal sweat…………….that’s as real as it gets."), "Wet Garden". I'm not so sure about "Sushi". Perhaps what I find most intriguing are "Poison Ivy" and "Giant Sequoia". I've got to find some. I just hope that the scents are not carcinogenic, like some untested fragrances are.

It's lovely weather here in Albuquerque, on the first day of November, with days in the 70's, nights in the 40's and clear sunny skies. I'm lucky I live here, and yet, I'm sad that winter is coming, with its bitter cold and dormant plants. I will worry with every cold spell, that my marginally hardy plants will not make it. But right now, there are plants blooming, and better yet, there are fragrant plants. This is almost enough to take me out of my fall doldrums.

Osmanthus heterophyllus is just starting to open its diminutive flowers, but already the exotic fragrance of sweet tea is scenting the air around it. With luck, there will not soon be a frost which blackens the flowers and cuts short the show.

Hoya pubera is blooming indoors, and although Tovah Martin, in her book The Essence of Paradise (highly recommended by the way), describes its fragrance as "hot chocolate milk," mine must be a mutant, for it smells of hyacinth and lilies. During the day, the scent fills the room (at night, the orchid Little Stars, in the previous post, fills the room with its clove fragrance). The one-inch wide umbels of flowers secrete a sweet nectar which attracts ants.

Ceanothus coeruleus is still, impressively, blooming, the flowers being a darker blue in the cooler weather. I put my nose in a flower panicle today and was surprised by the dusty sweet chestnut fragrance. Tovah Martin says that it is said to smell of cheese, or gym socks, but that it becomes anisey when the blooms begin to fade. I smell roasted chestnuts all the way from start to finish.

Rose Winchester Cathedral is still blooming, although with less than perfect flowers, and mildewed leaves. Its blooms are less fragrant than with warmer weather, but with blooms in November, I'm not complaining.

For some reason, a bunch of my orchids are blooming now. Not that I'm complaining.

Brassavola Little Stars

Dendrobium Blue Twinkle

Laeliocattleya Mini Purple 'Tamani'

Brassocattleya Little Mermaid 'Janet'

Doritis pulcherrima

Sophrolaeliocattleya Jeweler's Art 'Carved Coral'

Crocus speciosus may be my favorite fall flower. Each year I look forward to seeing these blossoms magically appear. This year I watched very carefully every day for signs of them. I found that they appear from the ground and flowers open in less than 48 hours. It's amazing. The large pale globes of flowers are luminous.

In New Mexico, you know fall has arrived when the chamisa (Ericameria nauseosus) blooms. Although they are overpoweringly scented (my neighbor says they smell like sweaty gym socks), the butterflies seem to like them immensely. Some peope say they are allergic to them, but I wonder if it is something else, like ragweed, blooming at the same time, since chamisa is insect pollinated. Still, it's possible for them to be allergenic. They give me a headache.

Penstemon heterophyllus 'Margarita BOP'


Salvia coahuilensis


Teucrium orientalis


Ballota pseudodictamnus


Euphorbia 'Blackbird'


Rosemary 'Gorizia'


Origanum 'Kent Beauty'


Origanum libanoticum

A nice hike to what I call the cathedral rocks at Elena Gallegos showed some interesting plants.

Coffee fern (Pellaea andromedifolia).

I think this is Parry's lip fern (Cheilanthes parryi).

Juniper mistletoe (Phoradendron juniperinum)