Just in time

As I get ready to leave town, a flurry of activity, of course, including the first bloom of my Leucospermum 'scarlet ribbons'. It hasn't really opened yet, and I was going to wait to photograph it, but I just couldn't resist because it is so AWESOME. The plant is literally covered in flowers.

Don't worry, I've got some more treats in reserve that will probably open when I'm gone.

Further excitement

At this point, Clivias, or at least Clivia miniata cultivars like this, don't seem particularly exotic to me. Even growing by the sidewalk. But I grew up with a Clivia (eventually many, many Clivias) that my mother babied for years and years before blooming. So it's not something that I take for granted, even now. Especially since this bloom is on a potted specimen I just bought last year, not the plant in the ground.

The first Freesias opened recently, I'm not sure exactly when because I've been so preoccupied with the Calochortus that I didn't notice, until I was out hunting snails by flashlight, suddenly blinded by the reflection off these (those LED lights are bright!). F. alba seems to be very happy, as these are a lot bigger than last year.

*

But the most exciting news of the day is the reopening of Pacific Rim Nursery whose demise I lamented only a year ago. Now, if only I hadn't pauperized myself (and the dollar hadn't shit the bed) in the intervening year!

Seriously, though:
Paeonia cambessedesii or Paeonia mascula subsp. arietina?

Sweet box

Spring is in the air in Nor-Cal, most deliciously in the scent of Pittosporum undulatum, an otherwise nice but nondescript tree that smells divine this time of year. The common name, I think, is wavy-leafed box, but I have been calling it sweet box since I figured out what it was, in honor of its wonderful spring smell. There is, needless to say, nothing particularly boxy about it.

This seemingly precocious spring has induced my first flower of Calochortus umbellatus. The Oakland star tulip is the flower that started it all -- if by "it" you mean my madness. I read about this lovely little bulb and decided that I should plant some, mostly because of the name: it is the only plant I know named after my town. Although apparently even the holotype is from somewhere else. There is no there here. At least part of my reasoning was that it would probably grow well here, being native and all.

But it was not easy to come by, oh no, and thus began my odyssey into the world of rare bulbs and mail order seed and various other obsessions, until I finally obtained some bulbs last fall (Thanks Telos and Far West!). And now my first diminutive and truly beautiful flower has opened.

It is much more subtle than the things that usually appeal to me. Also, admittedly, kind of purple: the petals are flushed a -- delicate! -- mauve purple, and the wonderfully contrasting anthers can at best be called blueish. Nevertheless, I will call them "blue steel".

This first bloom is a mutant: 8 tepals, but the normal 6 stamens. I wish I wasn't an idiot as a child and had learned something about science, because the genetics of the MADS box genes that control these things would be very interesting if I understood it.

Not raining, and pouring

It's kind of insane how practically everything blooms at the exact same time. New appearances this morning included the Passiflora manicata to the right, Monardella, Arum italicum, Calochortus superbus, Nigella and volunteer poppies. These plants are native to 4 different continents* (5 if you count the aforementioned Ixia -- now in focus! -- that opened 2 days ago), all from different families, and all raring to go at the same time.

I guess they're all from more or less mediterranean climates, and judging by the number of bugs flying around these days, now is a good time to get pollinated.

* Assuming that Asia Minor is part of Asia and not Europe.

Stroll

It was so nice yesterday I decided to walk home from work and see what's flowering now. My tour has less ambiance than Chuck's, but I did get a few interesting plants. When I got home it was still light out, so I repaired to the patio with the new Pacific Horticulture, a cocktail, and the baseball game on the radio. Yay spring! Actually, I just said that to torment everyone who lives in the (re-) frozen wastes of the rest of the country -- by the time the game started it was too chilly to sit outside in shortsleeves.

I'm going to spare you another list until the month of plant sales is over, but I did want to mention my latest folly, allegedly a Furcraea roezlii, although that name is invalid, I'm hoping it will turn out to be this. Of course, I have nowhere to put such a thing...

Patience again

So much of learning to garden consists of learning patience. For various reasons, I had a certain level of anxiety about the return of two winter-dormant plants: the "oriental" lilies and the stream orchid, Epipactis gigantea. This weekend the latter finally poked up through the camellia flower carpet-bombing campaign, as seen to the right, and the first lily was spotted as well (not as picturesque as this L. regale).

Just as last year, though, seeds generate the most anxiety. So for (my own, I know you couldn't care less) future reference, the germination update:

(All seeds stratified in ziplocs of moist peat in the vegetable crisper the penultimate weekend of January, except the Alliums, which went in a week later. Bulb seeds in 4" plastic, everything else in flats. Timing info came mostly from Alplains.)

Aquilegia eximia	Two seedlings in the same cell immediately after germination, 3rd just appeared (in same cell).
Allium amplectens	Sown after one month, without sign of germination, back into fridge after about a month to try to get something started.
Allium bisceptrum var. bisceptrum	Sown after c. 2 months, without sign of germination, no action yet.
Calochortus catalinae	germinated quickly and thoroughly, looking good.
Calochortus kennedyi var. kennedyi	Same as above, a week or two later.
Erythronium helenae	Same as Allium amplectens.
Erythronium tuolumnense	Recommended stratification not finished.
Fritillaria recurva (4 populations)	All germinated, planted out 10 days ago, sending up cotyledons now.
Lilium bolanderi	Nothing yet.
Lilium pardalinum ssp. pardalinum	Germinated after c. two months, planted out, presumably getting hypogeal.
Penstemon eatonii var. eatonii	Germinated, sending up cotyledons now.
Penstemon grahamii	Nothing yet.
Silene californica	Secondary leaves going up now.
Triteleia hyacintha	A single cotyledon appeared after planting out, up to 5 now (maybe I let it dry out too much?)

Overall, I'm pretty happy about these results, assuming that the Alliums and Erythroniums will work out eventually.

Equinox

Things are really hectic, as you'd expect this time of year. The Wisteria and Cantua are busting out, and lots of other stuff too, but I've been too busy to get much done, or write about it. After a whirlwind trip to Annie's (Brunsvigia josephinae, holla) I managed to get 18 plants in the ground in an hour before returning grudgingly to other chores. Dahlia, Ratibia, Scabiosa, Nasturtium, Passiflora, Aloe... some other stuff.

Penstemon eatoni, two of the four Fritillaria recurva populations, and maybe something else? have germinated in the fridge, and are awaiting my ministrations. Oh yeah, I need to go to the dry cleaners. Of the plants I've taken out of the fridge, no sign of life from Allium amplectens and only a single Triteleia hyacinthina so far.

So yeah, I'm busy. And plant sale season is right around the corner.

This unknown Freesia hybrid is very striking -- if anything it's more contrast-y than the picture. There is only a single one of these in the nice, mostly white drift we inherited. If anyone knows the name of the cultivar, let me know.

More color

The new growth on the pomegranate is also an eye opener when you really force yourself to look at it, however familiar the red-edged bronze register. But it's not quite on the level of that rose. Or of Zamia splendens:

Sprung

If not actually sprung, Spring is at least gathering itself here, thanks to unusually warm temperatures after the last rains. All of the bulbs that I can think of are up now, including Tulipa linifolia, which I have been quite dubious about. Blooming is another matter, I suppose. Come to think of it, there is one straggler: Fritillaria meleagris.

The Bilbergia that was threatening to bloom sometime in December was definitely slowed by the frost, but seems no worse for the wear. The pomegranate has leafed out, there are nascent buds on the Distictis buccinatoria and the Brugmansia has almost recovered all of the leaves lost in the frost. All we need is a little more rain.

The seeds are starting too: Calochortus catalinae germinated in about 18 days in the fridge, C. kennedyi 10 days later. The crunch is going to come in two weeks, when I'll have to plant out the first batch en masse.

Away from the garden it was a horticulturally eventful weekend, with the Pacific Orchid Exposition (not really my thing) and a CalHort talk on Calochortus (great slides, not so much info). I learned of an amazing plant that I had to have, which, thankfully, turned out to be a myco-heterotroph. Cross that one off the list.