Zanthan Gardens
Weblog of a Central Austin Garden

The Japanese have a saying, juu-nin to-iro, literally “ten people, ten colors”. Or to put it into less compact English, “Ask ten people a question and you’ll get ten different answers.” What has fascinated me about reading everyone’s Spring Fling posts is seeing something I experienced through other people’s eyes. One of the reasons I read is to learn to see the world through eyes more observant than mine, to think about things that would not have occurred to me alone. And so, to have almost forty different perspectives of a shared experience is revealing. It shows me how subjective the experience of a garden is. How much we take out of another’s garden is strongly related to how much we put into seeing it.

Some people focused on things I never gave a second glance. They peeked into niches and corners I didn’t notice. Others photographed the same grouping and created a striking composition where I just took a simple snapshot. All these eyes help me see what I missed. These different perspectives inform my own experience. Looking at them together I feel like I’m looking through the compound eye of some giant insect, seeing the world in a way I never saw it before.

For all the differences, there are some similarities. There are photos of bluebonnets and other wildflowers, of newly-made friends laughing as they pose with arms around each other. Many people tried to capture the dramatic descent to the pond at the David-Peese garden, or James David’s exotic voodoo lily, or a careful grouping of stones. I smiled in recognition and thought, “Yes. That appealed to me, too.”

However, one common photo on many of the posts seemed strange to me (although I snapped it myself), a shot of James David’s lawn.

• Barbara @ Mr. McGregor’s Daughter
• Brianna @ Seeds
• Dawn @ Suburban Wildlife Garden
• Diana @ Sharing Nature’s Garden
• Kiwi @ Aurora Primavera
• Nancy @ Nancy’s Garden Spot

For all our talk about tearing out lawns and replacing them with flowers or vegetables, why were we gardeners drawn to lawn. Did the lawn provide a sense of relief, to come up into the air and light after all our winding through the dark and narrow paths filled with exotics on a steep hillside? Did we need a dose of its strong lines and geometry to counteract the exuberant growth of the rest of the garden?

And yet we were drawn into the space only with our eyes. We all photograph it from the outside. Is there something forbidding about the lawn? something that made us all hang back at the entrance as if we were afraid to enter a sacred enclave? Perhaps a lawn as imposing as this one doesn’t need a sign saying “Keep of the Grass”. Or perhaps after admiring the clear swathe with its distinct lines and sharply cut borders, there was nothing to left to pull the gardener into it and we turned our attention elsewhere.

What do you think?

I returned from my recent visit to Las Vegas with a newfound love for cactus and succulents. I couldn’t resist bringing home a golden barrel cactus but the only one I could find that would fit into my carry-on luggage was this novelty plant from the discount plant table at Lowe’s. Although I originally intended to remove the plastic eyes that had been glued on to create “My Peeps, Cactus Buddies”, many people wanted to see a photo of it. So I decided to make Mr. Peeps (as I’ve named him) my Spring Fling mascot.

Mr. Peeps loved the first stop on our Spring Fling tour: the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. There he found all sorts of cactus and succulent cousins to hang out with. It also gave him a glimmer of hope that he might be able to survive in Austin’s humidity.

However, when the Garden Bloggers visited the private gardens of James David and Gary Peese I was forced to leave Mr. Peeps in the car. I told him that the tropical climate of the garden wouldn’t suit him but the truth is that these gardens are just too upmarket for a lowly plant from the Lowe’s discount table.

During the cocktail hour given by Pam/Digging, Mr. Peeps may have had a few too many Mexican martinis. The next thing I knew he was cavorting in Pam’s stock tank pond swooning to the mariachi band.

I know some of you other Garden Bloggers made friends with Mr. Peeps. If you decide to post any photos of him during Spring Fling, leave me a comment and a link.

Friday dawned with a heavy downpour. So much for the promise of fine Texas weather that we used to lure all the northerners and midwesterners down for Spring Fling. Pam/Digging had arranged for the four of us to visit the beautiful gardens of Jenny Stocker. Go see her photos. They’re amazing. As was the garden. As was Jenny.

The official start of Spring Fling, our dinner party at Matt’s El Rancho, felt like a giant family reunion, even though this was the first time most of us garden bloggers had ever met. And yet we knew each other. For years we’ve shared the daily joys and sometime tribulations of our gardens. Talk immediately turned to weather, soil, seeds started, plants failed, and plans realized. Although we spoke the same gardening language, we often did so with different accents. Some say to-may-to; others to-mah-to. (Lirope? Basil? Crinum? Cercis?) Carol spoke botanical Latin while Annie held firm to the ecclesiastical pronunciation of her youth. And let’s not even mention my inability to pronounce the name of any rose I grow; they’re all French.

Being bloggers as well as gardeners, most of our conversations included references to each other’s posts, all that accumulated detail that made us feel like old friends–old friends who in many cases had never seen the other’s face, or knew the other’s real name, or occupation.

Gardening has always had a tradition of friendship through correspondence. One of the most famous, between Elizabeth Lawrence and Katherine White almost did not survive their meeting in person. Among the garden bloggers, however, I sense an immediate comraderie. This experience is so beyond what any of us envisioned when Pam tossed the idea out at us last December.

I’m running on pure adrenaline right now. Must dash off for the real beginning of Spring Fling.

The year we met, I planted bluebells for AJM to remind him of home. I know that when I was an ex-patriot, that I really missed the sheets of bluebonnets that signal spring to a Texan.

Now the bluebells I planted weren’t the wildlings of English woodlands, Hyacinthoides non-scripta; they were the larger, garden variety from Spain, Hyacinthoides hispanica. As it turned out, for many years Spanish bluebells were the variety preferred by English gardeners because the flowers are larger and form on both sides of the stem, and because the plants more vigorous. Apparently too vigorous. In recent years, concerns about invasive aliens interbreeding with the natives have raised alarms in England. The beloved native is threatened by a Spanish army breaching the garden walls.

This is not a problem in Central Texas so I grow my Spanish bluebells without guilt. They grow very well here, die down quickly after they bloom, and come back reliably without being aggressive.

Spanish bluebells in Texas.

I finally got to see English bluebells in their native habitat when we drove down to Oxford and the Cotswolds a couple of years ago. Impressive. Sheets of blue. Just like bluebonnets!

English bluebells in England. I don’t know if the color is really that much deeper or if it’s just a trick of the light.

I love the cyclical nature of gardening. I’m amused to find myself taking photos of ‘Souvenir de la Malmaison’ as I did exactly one year ago. I wish I could put her on pause because today all her flowers are in full bloom and by tomorrow the petals will be scattered on the paths. And I really wanted Carol to see her. Ephemeral beauty. She’s bloomed non-stop all through March but she won’t make it to April. Fortunately ‘Blush Noisette’ is waiting in the wings to take the spotlight. Thus I am consoled.

Read the rest of this entry »

Thanks to all of you who wrote such sweet things about my wild garden. I’m very lucky to live in an equally wild neighborhood where unconstrained exuberance is celebrated rather than regulated. I took some photos today of some of my neighbors’s gardens so that you can see that mine fits right in.

2008-03-29. Bouldin Creek cottage with larkspur and decorated car.

In particular, Vive’s comment struck a chord. I didn’t approach making a garden with any set ideas; that is, I didn’t have a vision starting out. Unlike Margery Fish I didn’t really set out to make a garden at all. I just liked puttering around in the dirt among the plants. The concepts I developed over time grew along with the garden, grew out of the garden. They are still evolving. I use this blog a lot to work out my ideas, to mull them over out loud. Discussing my ideas with all of you helps me clarify my thoughts. Visiting your gardens via your blogs inspires and encourages me.

I was a writer long before I was a gardener. So I’ve actually given much more thought to the problems of finding (and keeping) my voice as a blogger. However, nothing I’ve ever written has matched the eloquence and good sense of the post written by my friend Kate in her Gentle Plea for Chaos.

I write this post specifically to my readers at Blotanical who will not find Kate’s post there among the Picks because I want you to know that although Blotanical is a wonderful introduction to the world of garden bloggers, there is an entire universe beyond it. Take this moment and click through to read Kate’s post. Now isn’t that something to think about? I can’t think of much to add, except maybe…

Find your vision. Celebrate who you are. And be.

2008-03-29. Bouldin Creek cottage with fairy circle.

At Diana’s yesterday, with Bonnie and Pam, stuffing welcome packets for the Garden Bloggers Spring Fling, I realized how comparatively few garden plants I have in my garden. I decided I’d better set expectations for any Spring Fling visitors who are stopping by before Friday’s dinner at Matt’s El Rancho. (Anyone on the Friday dinner list is invited. Let me know if you need directions.)

Noted Austin landscape architect, Ivan Spaller said of me and my garden, “[She] spends her days toiling away in a weed-infested garden…”

And so I do. My garden is big and my budget is small. So I rely heavily on weeds to fill in the empty spaces.

Visitors are often drawn to the bright fleshy leaves of the false dayflowers, Commelinantia anomala, only to recognize them close up and say in disappointment, “Oh. It’s that.” But I love how fresh and crisp the foliage looks and who can resist a flower with a face like this?

I also rely heavily on the false dayflower’s cousin, the spiderwort. It was in full bloom when I first saw this house and, in part, is what made me fall in love with this place. I try to confine it to the mini-woods but it insists on popping up in the meadow, the lawn, and the vegetable garden.

The cilantro, which I grow to eat, has taken over the meadow. It bloomed a month before the larkspur this year and makes an excellent filler.

I do manage my garden of weeds, edit it. In order to give it some semblance of a garden, I think it’s important to clump like weeds together–a drift of cilantro, or baby blue eyes, or spiderwort. I will pull the lone larkspur out of a clump of Love-in-a-mist. I transplant self-sown plants where I want them rather than where they’ve come up. Imposed order is what differentiates the garden from nature. And yet, in a wild garden one must have a light touch. I was made very happy when two different people asked me if my violas had self-sown (no) because they were not planted in the typical straight lines of bedding out plants.

I think I’ve always been guided, unwittingly, by a poem I wrote when I was seventeen–before I ever imagined myself a gardener.

I am a garden wild;
Growing thriving,
Reaching leafy green tentacles
In curious search.
I am, they say, haphazard, untamed,
Existing most improperly
in a world full of gardeners.

Like fellow Austin gardener, Rachel @ In Bloom, I’ve been enjoying the spiky blossoms of aloe vera this week.

They come as quite a surprise to me. I never knew that aloe vera bloomed. For years they did nothing but form more pups. Ever since my friend Dana shared a few pups with me, I’ve kept potting and repotting them until I had three pots so heavy that it took both of us to lug them indoors each winter. I’d read they were frost-sensitive.

In the summer of 2006, however, a construction worker knocked his ladder into one of the pots. I didn’t have another large pot for the three biggest plants so I stuck them in a empty bed until I could get one. I never got around to it. The aloe survived in a dark, dry place where nothing else grew. I liked their spare geometry.

So I left them. I thought winter would kill them off but as I still had plenty of pups, I didn’t mind treating these three as annuals. Winter did not kill them off. Neither did a second winter. Both winters were mild and the aloe vera have the advantage of being planted in front of a stone wall which reflects heat. Had they been elsewhere in the yard I think I would have lost them. In places, the leaves took a reddish cast from cold damage. Earlier this month they sent up bloom stalks and finally last week the yellow flowers started opening.

I quickly did some Google searches on “aloe, yellow flowers” and discovered that they are aloe vera (which is their common name), Aloe barbadensis being the botanical name, although there is a trend to use aloe vera for both.

Before I dragged the pots of aloe outside this week, I cut off two of the biggest stalks and stuck them in another dark, empty spot near the front fence. The pots have gotten too heavy for me to lift and the aloe seem to prefer being in the ground.

Update: 2016-11-05

The red-flowered Aloe arborescens is said by some to be the “true” aloe, the one with the most beneficial medical properties.

Update: 2018-03-17

I’ve decided to redo this bed from scratch.

The two hard freezes in January 2018 reduced this bed to pups. I had already hacked out the frozen tops. However, the pups were weak and not thriving. They are smothered by cedar elm leaves and I think I even put Christmas tree mulch in here one year.

Pulled 25 pups and potted 24 of them in the 4-inch pots. One was larger so I put it in a larget pot. (photos).

…though I’m known to be a bit rakish.

Heidegger says that one way being asserts itself is when we notice the absence of something. Presence is being ready to hand, handy. Absence is being missing. When my hand rake went missing about a month ago, I felt its absence keenly. I didn’t know how much I relied on, how handy it was, it until I lost it. I’ve been using various tools in its stead; I even bought a hand cultivator but nothing has worked as well for me as my old hand rake.

I’ve shopped around town for a replacement and finally found one today at Breed and Co ($9). It is from The Rumford Gardener, their Oxford Series Mini-Rake. (How could I go wrong with a tool named after AJM’s university?)

Now some of you, (Carol!) may find it inconceivable that I do not use a hoe. I’m more of a hands-and-knees gardener. I don’t feel comfortable gardening at a distance, standing up. I’m really in it for the dirt.

I find this mini-rake perfect for getting in between the annuals in the meadow and breaking up the crust in the mulch after a hard rain, for uprooting small weeds and pulling out leaves (especially those stuck in the agaves). I don’t know if it is my favorite tool, for I could not do without my Fiskars pruners or my trowel either. But I really missed it and I’m happy I found a replacement.

Carol at May Dreams Gardens invites us to tell her what’s blooming in our gardens on the 15th of each month.

March 15, 2008

If, as Carol quotes Emerson, the “earth laughs in flowers”, then for this fleeting moment at Zanthan Gardens we are ROGL. March is typically the month that I have more types of different flowers blooming than any other. I’m not saying the garden is drenched in blossom here. Quite the opposite. In fact, a visitor just this week remarked that the most overwhelming color in the garden right now is spring green. But as early spring flowers give way to late spring flowers, March provides a greater variety of plants in flower than at any other time of the year. Often it is just a stem of this, or a couple of flowers of that. April will be the month of masses of flowers but with less variety.

New for March

Beginning in March, I can find something new blooming in the garden almost every day. The paperwhite narcissus have given way to the jonquils. My only large cup daffodil, ‘Ice Follies’ bloomed between GBBDs. After that came the yellow daffodils, ‘Trevithian’, ‘Hawera’, and then the Quail.

Trevithian

The jonquil ‘Trevithian’ began flowering on March 3rd and three flowers are still open. They always come back but they never flower vigorously in my garden.

Hawera

Three diminuitive triandrus ‘Hawera’ nod their heads. They are so small and delicate, I think they must be fairy flowers. They began flowering on March 10th.

Quail

One stem of the other jonquil ‘Quail’ opened on March 12th with three flowers. Notice the brown edges caused by the 95F/35C degree heatwave that hit Austin yesterday. I saw it lying flat on the ground yesterday. Luckily some cold water and cooler temperatures today perked it up in time for its GBBD photo.

Cilantro

The meadow is filling in. The cilantro, Coriandrum sativum, has been rampant this year. It looked very weedy for awhile but now that it is flowering all is forgiven.

False Dayflower

The cute little faces on the false dayflowers, Commelinantia anomala, always make me smile. I’ve spent ten years selecting the bicolor flowers and weeding out the solid dark blue ones.

Rose ‘Ducher’ and Bluebonnets

My new ‘Ducher’ rose likes is much happier than the one I lost, probably because I put it on the opposite side of the yard where it could receive sun all winter. I’ve never seen ‘Ducher’ bloom like this. It looks like it’s on steroids, but it’s just Dillo Dirt. In my experience, ‘Ducher’ prefers cooler weather and blooms best for me in early spring.

More bluebonnets, Lupinus texensis are opening. Most of the flowers are still on the plants that oversummered, but a few fall-sprouted plants are beginning to flower, too (although not very profusely).

Baby Blue Eyes and Cilantro

In stark contrast, the baby blue eyes, Nemophila insignis, seem to be on a quest to take over the garden.

Grape Hyacinth

A few blue bottles, Muscari racemosum/neglectum just opened this week. I noticed them already flowering at Pam/Digging’s almost a month ago.

First Larkspur (Opened Today)

The blooming of the larkspur, Consolida ambigua marks spring, part 2 at Zanthan Gardens.

Rose ‘Souvenir de la Malmaison’

The last two weeks, ‘Souvenir de la Malmaison’ has been putting on quite a show. She beat the shade and the little green worms. She is one of the roses I stripped in February.

Rose ‘Blush Noisette’

‘Blush Noisette’ has just emerged from the shade of the Texas Mountain laurels and put out a few flowers. I forgot to get a snapshot of them today though.

Anemone coronaria ‘The Bride’

This was the first year that I’ve ever grown anemones. They were both more successful and less successful than I had expected. More, because they flowered at all, even after the raccoons kept digging them up. Less, because I should have planted them all together en masse to get a nice effect rather than dotting them here and there. I always make this mistake.

Bridal wreath spiraea

About six years ago this spiraea had huge white sprays like some giant floral fountain. Then I came very close to losing it. This year, a couple of stems are making a comeback.

California Poppies ‘Mikado’

More California poppies are blooming.

This has been a pretty good year for the flowering trees, except for the Mexican plums. However, many plum seedlings are popping up. I think few fruit usually mature but because it was cool and rainy last summer a lot more did. The rainy summer of 2007 has had a dramatic effect on all the other small flowering trees. The cherry laurel, the Texas mountain laurel, and the redbuds are heavier with blossom than I’ve ever seen them.

Texas Mountain Laurel

The sickly sweet grape soda scented Texas mountain laurel, Sophora secundiflora is in full bloom right now. 2008 has been a spectacular year for Austin’s Texas mountain laurel. I think this was due to last summer’s extra rain. I don’t think mine have ever had this many flowers.

Cherry Laurel

The flowers of cherry laurel, Prunus caroliniana are not as showy or scented as Texas mountain laurel but the bees seem to like them just as much.

Viola

Although the violas have been blooming since November, I’m putting in this shot of them because this yellow one popped up among the white and purple Sorbet ‘Coconut Duet’. It is the first hard evidence of violas self-sowing in my garden. I don’t know if this is from this year’s seed which reverted or from last year (when I had yellow violas).

There are diminuitive flowers on three other plants that I didn’t even bother to photograph: the lavender, Lavandula heterophylla ‘Goodwin Creek’, has one spray; in the oxblood lily nursery, I noticed the pretty pea-flowered common vetch, Vicia sativa; and the potato vine, Solanum jasminoides, is twining its way through the chain link fence.

Carol said we could count potted plants and two began flowering this month.

Meyer Lemon

I’m relieved that the Meyer lemon has staged a comeback. I was afraid that it would hold my neglect last year and subsequent rough treatment of it during repotting against me. When I repotted it on February 10th, I cut it back by two-thirds, hacked off a lot of potbound roots, and stripped all the leaves off it because they were covered in sooty mold. Now, a month later, it is putting out new buds and leaves like never before.

Butterfly Amaryllis

Two flowers are now open on the butterfly amaryllis, Hippeastrum papilio. I realized that the close-up shots I took the other day don’t show how large the flowers are. These are by far the largest flowers in bloom today.

Still Flowering

The four types of oxalis that I grow bloom off and on all year. I don’t think I’ve photographed them for GBBD before, so here they are.

Two varieties of Oxalis triangularis

Oxalis crassipes

Oxalis pes-caprae ‘Scotty’s Surprise’

Also still flowering from previous months are viola, pinks, sweet alyssum, and the redbud tree.

Complete List for March

• Anemone coronaria ‘The Bride’
• Bridal wreath spiraea
• Cercis canadensis
• Citrus x meyeri (potted)
• Commelinantia anomala
• Consolida ambigua
• Coriandrum sativum
• Dianthus chinensis
• Eschscholzia californica ‘Mikado’
• henbit
• Hippeastrum papilio
• Lantana montevidensis
• Lavandula heterophylla ‘Goodwin Creek’
• Leucojum aestivum (summer snowflakes)
• Lobularia maritima
• Lupinus texensis (many plants now in flower; first plant now flowering since 12/15)
• Muscari racemosum/neglectum
• Narcissus jonquilla ‘Quail’
• Narcissus triandrus ‘Hawera’
• Nemophila insignis
• Oxalis crassipis (hot pink)
• Oxalis pes-caprae ‘Scotty’s Surprise’
• Oxalis triangularis (both purple and white)
• Prunus mexicana (Only a couple of flowers left.)
• Prunus caroliniana (cherry laurel)
• Rhaphiolepis indica (had a few very early flowers, then stopped blooming, now about to kick into high gear)
• rose ‘Blush Noisette
• rose ‘Ducher’ (full bloom)
• rose ‘Souvenir de la Malmaison’ (full bloom)
• rosemary (Very few flowers)
• Solanum jasminoides (potato vine)
• Sophora secundiflora (Texas mountain laurel)
• Tradescantia (spiderwort)
• Viola cornuta ‘Sorbet Coconut Duet’
• Vitia sativa (common vetch, a pretty weed)