casa coniglio

If there was any doubt about the weather, it became abundantly clear this afternoon.

Here's snow coming down on Karl:

'Winchester Cathedral' was planning on making a show, but this is as far as it got.

A spider web under an overflow pipe makes for a curious scene.

Apache plume (Fallugia paradoxa) becomes a delicate tracery.

There's a heuchera and some dianthus under there.

An early winter storm has hit us, and yep, that is snow on the mountains. Yesterday morning there was flurrying at my house. Today's high is supposed to be 41F and tonight is expected to be as low as 23F. The osmanthus flowers froze last night, and are crispy brown this morning. We'll see how the rest of the garden fares as the week goes on.

Although saffron crocus (Crocus sativus) doesn't make a dramatic show like Crocus speciosus does, it is a nice surprise to have in the fall. Here it is, peeking out of the Artemesia versicolor. I find that although saffron crocus survives, in my garden it never produces enough to make a good showing. Maybe it needs a more Meditteranean climate. It is also a slightly muddy mauve which does not catch the eye in the garden, even if it is attractive enough up close. My two flowers won't make enough saffron to flavor a dish of paella, but I like the novelty of having the blossoms.

Like fall leaves, the purple asters give a big splash, but the color doesn't last for very long. After all, they don't have a lot of time to put out seeds before the cold weather comes. Fortunately, after the big show, comes an encore. Quickly after the blooms fade, sometimes even before the last of the purple daisies fade, the pappus forms attractive puffballs that catch the light. These help the seeds disperse (like dandelion seeds), but can make a mess as they stick to clothing when the gardener is trying to neaten up the garden.

Not to be confused with Dahlia, which might sound similar, Dalea frutescens, or the Black Dalea, has tiny pea-shaped flowers (it is a legume after all). It blooms for a long period in the fall. In milder climates, it can bloom all winter, but not here. Here, in my neighbor's yard, it hardly needs any water at all.

It's that time.

As follow-up to the last post on C. speciosus, here's another view.

Osmanthus heterophyllus (Holly-leafed osmanthus) started blooming yesterday, and I'm thrilled. It's blooming at least three weeks earlier than last year, when it started blooming in November. Last year, just when the first blossoms started to open, we had a freeze, and all the flowers and buds were gone. Most people probably wouldn't notice. This plant is rated as hardy to zone 7 or even 6, but that's for the plant, and not the flowers. But that's why most people plant this tough shrub from Japan - for the leaves.

The leaves are said to resemble English holly, although the plant is much smaller, and leaves generally are not as lustrous (except one cultivar: 'Gulftide' which may be a hybrid with another species). Apparently, this plant is much loved in Japan, since there are quite a few cultivars. 'Purpureus' has purple new leaves, 'Goshiki' is a short bushy plant with splotchy/speckled variegation that to me looks like spider mite damage but to other people is delight itself.

Incidentally, "heterophyllus" as you might have guessed, refers to "different leaves" (although you might think it refers to being a "heterophyte," or a plant deriving its nutrition from other organisms, it's not). My plant once had holly-like leaves on the bottom, but rounded leaves at the top. Now it is only rounded leaves as you see in the photo. Like English ivy, the juvenille leaves are different from the mature form, although in holly-leaf osmanthus, the plant still blooms on the juvenille form. So "holly-leaf" is a misnomer in a sense, because that's only half the picture. There is a form 'Rotundifolius' which is only, as the name says, the rounded leaf form.

I didn't plant this plant for its leaves. I planted it for the flowers, which bloom in late fall, so late that some years I don't get to appreciate them. Although they are charming to look at, they certainly don't make a splash. I wanted the fragrance. I wish I could grow its relative Osmanthus fragrans, whose flowers smell like apricots simmering in honey, but alas, O. fragrans is not hardy here (though I've recently learned that a variety O. f. 'aurantiacus' may be). So I planted O. heterophyllus, which has its own delights. The flowers smell like an exotic blend of honeysuckle and green tea, and although the fragrance is not powerful, it carries a long distance, so that when I am in another part of the garden, I can detect even a few blossoms in bloom, and the plant can line its branches with hundreds of blossoms.

Of course I'm a bit curious about why the plant has bloomed almost a month early this year. Is it that the temperatures have stayed low enough to trigger a bloom cycle? Or is it that we are headed for a particularly cold winter?

Just a few days ago I was bemoaning the lack of fall leaves in my garden. I missed the dramatic statement of the changing of the seasons. Like spring-blooming fruit trees, there is not much that is more visually impressive than colorful fall leaves to ring in the season. Fall leaves are the season's last hurrah before the onset of the quiet of winter. These colorful leaves set the heart a-leaping.

The problem with fall leaves, is the same problem as spring flowers: they don't last very long. A week, maybe two is all you'll get for all the drama. While this is as much as you could ever ask for in a bouquet of roses, or even a pot of amaryllis, it seems all too soon that it is over.

Here's my neighbor's ash tree, with my 'Wichita Blue' juniper in front, as I posted it October 3rd:


Here it is today, soon to be ready for the bleak days of winter:

The impressive but brief show of the fall leaves is in contrast to the flowers of long-blooming plants. Agastache 'Ava' has been blooming since August (with some color showing in late July). Here it is today:

Not bad for three months of color, eh? Agastache 'Firebird' has been blooming since early July and is just fading out. Chocolate flower has been blooming since May, and is still blooming. I wonder: do we just take these long-blooming plants for granted?

It's too bad the fall leaves don't last longer, isn't it? Which had me thinking: there are plants whose fall foliage last a long time. In fact, there are a few plants whose cold weather color lasts as long as the weather stays cold. I've even blogged about some of them previously (in February).

Eriogonum umbellatum. Duh. How quickly we forget. It's even a native plant.

Opuntia 'Santa Rita' is so obvious.
Then there are non-native plants such as Nandina domestica (Heavenly bamboo). There are some cultivars that just glow throughout the winter. One of these is 'Firepower' (do a google search) named such for the brilliant color the leaves take on in the winter. Other nandinas can turn blazing colors as well, such as this one in another neighbor's yard (is it 'Gulf Stream'?).

Here is everyday Oregon grape holly (Mahonia aquifolium), looking not-so-everyday in the winter.

This is the glowing color that my neighbor's boxwood takes on with frosty weather. It turns back to the nondescript green that we all know, once spring arrives.
For some gardens, this winter-long fall color may be even more exciting than true fall color. Just something to keep in mind.

The Fourth of July Canyon is known for its amazing fall foliar displays. The tree mostly responsible for this is the southwest version of the sugar maple. Known variously as the Wasatch maple, the big-tooth maple, or the rocky mountain sugar maple, this tree is felt to be a regional variant of the sugar maple (Acer saccharum) and is thus now known as Acer saccharum grandidentatum (previously it was known as just A. grandidentatum). It differs from the typical east-coast sugar maple by being shorter (to 20-30 feet tall instead of growing to 60 feet), having smaller leaves, and needing well-drained rather dry soil.



It has the same spectacular fall colors however, and for those of us who live in the southwest and miss the fall fireworks that deciduous forest trees provide, a trip to the Fourth of July Canyon can satisfy this craving.



We took a trip to the canyon yesterday, and it was clearly apparent that we had missed the peak. Perhaps two weeks ago, the canyon would have been incredible. There were sights to see however, from the blazing inferno reds, to glowing oranges and yellows, to delicate pinks. Sometimes this was all in the same leaf.



Good thing we got there early. By the time we left (around 1pm) the parking lot was full, the entrance road was entirely lined with cars parked on the side, and there were a dozen or so cars coming up the road. I wonder where they parked, because there was not a spot left.

Today is day 1 for this autumn's showing of Crocus speciosus. This is one of the plants that I put in the garden to get me excited that it is fall. It helps me overcome the feeling of the pending doom of winter. There are many fall-blooming crocuses, and it is a shame that the spring bloomers get all the attention. Of the fall bloomers, Crocus speciosus is common, but that doesn't stop it from being my favorite (so far).

When blossoms appear, they emerge literally overnight, so that they are always a surprise. One day it is bare ground, and the next the blooms are open. If you are a very careful observer, and have the time to sit in the garden each morning as the sun rises at this time of year, you might catch them emerging out of the ground. It's curious that I have a half dozen blooms today, where yesterday there were none. How do they know to coordinate their blooms to the same day?

The flowers last only a few days, but the corms usually produce at least a few blossoms each, so the show is prolonged. Each blossom is at least twice the size of dutch crocuses, of a luminous color and a shape that catches the light of the sun so that they become glowing bowls of blue. You can't miss them in the garden.

They are worth anticipating in the fall.

Woodbine (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) and chamisa (Ericameria nauseosus) make a fetching combination, don't you think?

It's full-on time for purple aster (Machaeranthera canescens). Around my neighborhood, it's everywhere. Even tiny tufts of leaves in tortured areas of land sprout a few flowers. In other more moist and fertile areas, plants get 2-3 feet tall and cover themselves with flowers.

Typically a biennial or at best a short-lived perennial, it does not make a particularly good garden plant, unless you have the type of personality who can let it self sow around the garden in its preferred areas, changing the appearance of the garden each year. It also has quite a weedy appearance until it blooms.

I let seedlings appear in my unirrigated front yard sometimes, but inevitably, the plants produce pale flowers, not as dramatic as the plants that I see growing in other parts of the neighborhood, like in the horse pasture above, or on the mountainside.

Instead, in my manicured areas, I planted Aster x frikartii 'Monch' which is very similar in color, has a long season of bloom, and larger flowers. It also needs a lot more water, but that's not saying a lot compared to no water at all. I still loved the 'Monch' I had but have since moved on. At this time of year, I long for it again. It was moved to a friend's garden, and I visit it occasionally.

The asters by the roadside seem to be some of the nicest. Above, it cavorts with the yellow blooms of chamisa and reddish buds and stems of Eriogonum annuum. Below, a particularly nice form and color, right next to the roadside.

Some quick snapshots of what's blooming in the garden.

The Salvia pitcheri is blooming well this year, and for much longer than the typical week or two. This one has been blooming for, what, a month now? It's making a nice contrast in color with the stinky yellow blooms of chamisa (Ericameria nauseosus).

Here it is again, with Salvia chamaedryoides behind it.

Salvia chamaedryoides with mariola (Parthenium incanum) behind it.

Salvia 'Indigo Spires' has gotten darker in the cooler weather, the calyces holding a nice dark purple.

Salvia coahuilensis is still blooming. I don't think it ever stops if I don't prune it back. The light green foliage is very aromatic and I smell it on my clothes for a while after I walk by the plant.

The rosemaries are blooming again, this one 'Blue Spires'. Interestingly, 'Salem' still hasn't bloomed for me.

Penstemon clutei has bravely put out a single stem (in front of a seed head from Ceanothus 'Gloire de Versailles'.

A few stems poking out from Lavender 'Royal Velvet'.
The Ceanothus caeruleus has decided to bloom again, but nothing compared to the spring bloom. Ceanothus 'Gloire de Versailles' is still blooming as well (not shown).

Agastache 'Firebird' is still going strong, in front of Calamogrostis x acutiflora 'Karl Foerster'.


...and what's not blooming in the garden. My neighbor's 'Raywood' ash, with my Juniper 'Wichita Blue' in front. Not bad...I have shown 4 plants that aren't blue!