Philip’s Garden Blog

This last Valentines Day we exchanged cards, savored specialty chocolates and planted trees in our city.

“Share The Love” was the name of the Valentines Day tree planting event held by The Friends of The Urban Forest. We joined up at 9:00 in the morning with other volunteers and neighborhood residents to plant over thirty trees .

Since 1981 the non-profit Friends of The Urban Forest has overseen the planting of thousands of trees on the sidewalks of San Francisco. Friends of the Urban Forest obtains permits, removes sidewalk concrete, purchases and delivers the trees, supplies, tools and materials. Neighborhood residents select a tree from a list of trees that will do well in the climate and that is appropriate for the situation. On planting day neighbors come together to assist each other in planting the tree that they will be responsible for outside their residence or place of business.

Except for a few neighborhoods, most of San Francisco in the past had few trees on its streets. The city itself is dense with Victorian apartment building and flats, and there are few front yards and other street planting. The Friends of The Urban Forest has transformed the cityscape with thousands of trees, reducing the “heat island” effect and providing habitat for many birds. The group is committed to the belief that trees are a critical element of a livable urban environment.

Volunteer extraordinaire Charlie Starbuck, looking dapper in his green beret, gives a demonstration planting before we break into smaller groups.

I could not help but notice all of the “For Rent” signs in what is normally a very popular neighborhood. One of the residents, Marta, confirmed that all parts of the city have been hurt by the economic downturn. I was impressed looking at this group who had come together in uncertain times: an older couple, the stylish group of Japanese-American young women, gay and straight neighbors who were meeting for the first time.

Planting manager Naomi Le Beau answers our questions.
Should we use planting mix?
No, the existing soil or “backyard dirt” is best
Should we place the bushier part of the tree away from the wind?
The stronger side of the tree with the most branches, if there is one, should be placed into the direction of the wind.

With Naomi’s calm assurance and winning enthusiasm we think to ourselves “Yes, we can do this! Let’s go!”

Our group heads up the hill where Kris, a Friend of The Urban Forest volunteer, is our guide planting the trees for this street.
Kris holds a planting stick, while David, the homeowner, is engaged.

Everyone gets into the act.

An evergreen pear (Pyrus kawakamii) is the tree that has been selected for this location. Native to Asia, this tree is tolerant of poor soil and does well in coastal California. A suitable choice for this location, this tree will not become overly tall and conflict with utility wires. This tree is effective when pruned, an important consideration in a narrow sidewalk. Evergreen in winter, this tree will delight in the spring with a display of white flowers.

A curved saw is used to gently score the roots.

Now that this tree planting has begun, a number of volunteers and residents split up from this group and begin the next tree planting.

Kris uses one of the stakes which will be used later to ensure that the root ball is at the proper height with the sidewalk.

A cardboard tube is inserted and rocks are placed into it. David will water the tree for the first year into this tube, allowing water to get to the roots. The rocks filter dirt, and eventually the cardboard tube will decompose.

Donning a hard hat and climbing a ladder, a volunteer pounds the stakes for the tree with a post driver.

I am struck how when strangers join together in a common purpose, what is needed to be done is achieved naturally and instinctively without language. I cannot help but think that today we are isolated in so many ways: working inside corporate cubicles and behind locked doors watching television. When given the opportunity to join together in a task such as planting a tree, we immediately know what to do. Perhaps working together is what really makes us human.

Ta Da!  Now that this tree is planted, this group will join with the other groups in the neighborhood until all the trees are in the ground. Around noon the tree plantings will be done, and the volunteers and residents will enjoy a potluck lunch.  I look forward to visiting this tree in the future to see it grow and thrive.  I will never forget the people who planted these trees, and in the act of planting a tree, a city becomes a community.

Wa (Harmony)

After leaves have fallen from branches and late flowers have gone to seed, the garden in winter exists in a time apart; a time of pine, moss, stone, twig and branch. Thin light from a low sun reveals immutable forms; the winter garden is ascetic, chaste and austere. Wistful recollections of summer’s past and yearnings for the promise of spring is what often informs us during this season, but the quiet beauty of a garden in winter has its own truth. On a hushed day flanked by storms past and expected, one’s eyes can be opened to this beauty, the mind in concert with the moment.

Kei (respect)

The traditional Japanese garden has many forms, and for me the Japanese Tea Garden, Chaniwa, expresses the qualities of the garden in winter. This type of garden, intimately incorporated into the Japanese tea ceremony itself, is a unique intersection of a highly developed aesthetic philosophy and a spiritual ritual.  There are those who have spent a lifetime studying The Way of Tea, or Chado, and I will only attempt to touch lightly here on the gardens, the Roji, that are attached to the teahouse and their role in the tea ceremony.

Sen Rikyu (1522-1591) had a profound influence on the tea ceremony and the surroundings in which the ceremony was held. Eschewing elaborate imported Chinese porcelains and the like, Rikyu incorporated into the ceremony both the spiritual practice of Zen Buddhism, with an emphasis on the immediate and non-duality, and a highly considered appreciation of the rustic, the irregular and the asymmetric softened by the patina of age.  The progression of the ceremony became a kind of ritualized set choreography of prescribed gestures and deportment;  participants cleared the mind of irrelevancies, the past and future, and allowed the mind and body to be in the moment.

Guests assemble in the outer garden, resting in a shelter called a machiai as they await their turn to proceed to the teahouse to participate in the tea ceremony.

Sei (Purity)   

As the guests are summoned to the teahouse, they proceed to the inner garden, uchiroji, on a meandering path. Carefully placed to direct and slow the guest, these stones should be placed naturally as if one were proceeding down a mountain path. The word roji can be translated to “dewy path” and walking on this path of simple stone and moss prepares the participant to open their “beginner’s mind”, passing from the mundane world to the heightened experience of the rustic tearoom.  A low water basin is provided, as washing the hands and mouth before tea literally and spiritually removes the “dust of the world.”

Rikyu stressed the purity of the roji, the inner and outer parts of the garden divided by a bamboo wicket or sarudo so that it “appears as if a hermit lives in a hut in an old thicket.”

 
Jaku (Tranquility) 

An aesthetic sesibility that Rikyu refined was the concept of wabi; the style of the tea ceremony as practiced by Rikyu came to be known as wabi-cha, or literally “poor tea”.
Words such as “poor”, “rustic”, “desolation”,  and “imperfection” have different shades of meaning in the West. The concepts that these words express take on an exaltation of taste in the concept of wabi: free of avarice, competition and the ways of the world, the hermit in his solitude, observant of nature and sheltered in his hut on an inhospitable mountain found contentment and spiritual clarity.

The tea garden is informed by nature, but is not a “natural” garden. Natural elements are carefully considered for volume, form and balance. Within this construct is the lack of ostentation, and the quality of restraint; truth is found in the natural world, and in its bittersweet imperfections.

Neither blossoms nor tinted foliage are seen around a rush thatched hut that stands alone by the sea strand, twilight of autumn.
—Fujiwari Teika (1162-1241)

The term wabi is often conjoined with another philosphical concept, sabi. The effects of time such as the weathering of wood, the corrosion of metal, the patina of age, the cycles of nature, indeed our own mortality is inherant in the concept of sabi, and the fusion of the words wabi-sabi is a rich poetic idea that expresses both the tea garden, and the human condition in all seasons.

It is in us that God meets with Nature, and yesterday parts from tomorrow. The present is the moving Infinity, the legitimate sphere of the relative. Relativity seeks adjustment; adjustment is art.“
— Kakuzo Okakura, the Book of Tea (1906)

The gardener who has seen many seasons and harvests may ponder what is the beginning and what is the end? What is completion? Is it the plant in flower and in fruit? The plant gone to seed or with dormant roots? The tender sprouts of spring?  The garden in winter, and the tea garden shows that nature is constantly devolving toward, or evolving from that which is.

Rikyu loved to quote an old poem which says:  To those who long only for flowers, fain would I show the full-blown spring which abides in the toiling buds of snow-covered hills.
—Kakuzo Okakura, The Book of Tea

 

 

In the Moment, Rick Carpenter 2002

This is a garden about garbage.

This is a garden about art made from garbage.

This is a garden about recycling garbage that may save our planet. 

When I first heard that there was not only a garden at the dump, but that the city of San Francisco also sponsored an “Artist in Residency” program there, I knew that this was something I had to see.  The reaction from other people when I said I planned to visit a ”dump garden” was mixed. Some people said, “Cool” and other people wrinkled their noses, asking, “Will it smell?”  I set out on the third Thursday of the month when tours are given of the facility, the artist’s studios, and the sculpture garden to find out for myself. Would I be the only person there? I met with a good sized group that had gathered for the tour.

San Francisco is considered one of  America’s greenest cities and Mayor Gavin Newsom and the Board of Supervisors have enacted a plan to cut greenhouse gases in the city to 20% below the 1990 level by 2012. All kinds of people have come together in San Francisco to make practical changes towards sustainability in their personal lives, and in the community. Recycling garbage is certainly a way where an individual or a family can do something “hands on” to make a difference.

After a discussion of ecological concerns and about the work done at the SF Recycling & Disposal, Inc.’s Solid Waste Transfer and Recycling Center (affectionately known to those in the know as “The Dump”), we donned orange vests, protective glasses and hard hats (the explanation for the wearing of the hats was to prevent us from getting seagull poop in our hair. OK. Sounds good to me!).  On the way to the garden we headed into the garbage facility itself.

Standing in the garbage shed was my perfect idea of Hell. Odd bits of refuse continuously banged through a chute placed high up the wall adding to the pile, and yes, it stank. In a way, there was a kind perverse humor for me in this experience. I am known in my family as someone who will go to great lengths to avoid unpleasant things, and for the most part, my experience with trash is a tidy affair. We sort discarded things neatly in their color-coded bins and then it is taken away. Where this trash goes is rarely considered; refuse goes “out there”, to a landfill perhaps; a nether place far away.  In the presentation that commenced the tour, we discussed some pressing ecological “time bombs”. By becoming aware of the ”Great Pacific Garbage Patch”, I now know that garbage is in everyone’s face.

Eco Bomb, Francisco Perez Cardona 1991

Crossing the Pacific Ocean in 1997 after competing in a trans-Pacific yacht race, Captain Charles Moore discovered “The Great Pacific Garbage Patch”, a floating debris field two times the size of Texas. Formed by circular currents called Gyres, debris from the of the perimeter of the Pacific Ocean (garbage from the US, Japan and other nations) is drawn to the still waters of the center. This monstrous accumulation of trash chokes not only the surface of the Pacific, but hundreds of feet into the ocean’s depth.

Particles Dancing, Linda Raynsford 2000

“I want to say one word to you.  Just one word…plastics.”  This line from the 1967 film, The Graduate is to me like one of those prophecy twists from the ancient Greeks. Yes, there is a future in plastics because it never goes away: plastic stays around forever, becoming smaller and smaller, and ever more deadly.

Unlike natural debris which eventually degrades, plastic remains a polymer even at the molecular level. In the Great Pacific Garbage Patch photodegraded plastic particulates choke the upper water column. Fish ingest the plastic particulate, birds feed this to their chicks, and the plastic enters the food chain.

There is no consensus on how to clean up the massive Great Pacific Garbage Patch, but hopefully we can prevent it from from expanding. San Francisco has banned plastic bags from large stores such as supermarkets. This translates into 5 million fewer plastic bags every month. Other cities, nations have followed suit, or are considering a ban. In my house we now have a collection of re-usable canvas bags that we take with us every time we go shopping. It is actually quite easy to do, something practical in a small way that when done with others has a big impact.

Deborah Munk who led the tour pointed out this bale of paper collected for recycling. Deborah explained that a ton of paper like the one showed here was the equivalent of 17 to 24 trees.

I thought is was so fitting than an envelope from the Sierra Club was found in this bale.  One of the oldest grassroots environmental organizations in the United States, the Sierra Club was founded by the preservationist, John Muir.  Looking at the image of this paper bale after my visit, I had to call Deborah Munk again to confirm how many trees a bale like this would preserve. I imagined John Muir with his lanky, upright figure and grizzled beard standing before a grove swaying in the breeze; a grove of about seventeen to twenty-four trees.

Conehead Chairs, Norma Yorba 1995

San Francisco recycles an impressive 70% of its garbage. This can be compared to the city of Dallas, Texas which only recycles 2%.  In many places change and awareness of environmental concerns is begun by just one person. In San Francisco in the 1970’s the artist Jo Hansen began to sweep the litter strewn sidewalk outside her house and compiled journals of urban detritus. Her personal act of sweeping one sidewalk grew into a celebrated public art practice and citywide anti-litter campaign. As a vocal SF Arts Commissioner, Hanson suggested to Norcal Waste Systems, Inc. and the City of San Francisco that they develop an artist in residence program at the city dump, offering a studio and stipend for artists to create artwork from the waste stream to raise public awareness.

Deborah Munk explained that the artists in the program can only use items from the dump. Shopping carts are used by the artists to gather the materials that they will need assemble and create works of art. As the artists sift through the trash with their carts in tow, they say they are “going shopping”.

Stanley, Dana Albany 2003

A collection of sculptures created by the artists are displayed in the sculpture garden. Placed on the hill above the dump, the garden incorporates some plants rescued from the trash, and the paths were constructed from salvaged concrete from the old Embarcadero freeway that had been torn down after being damaged in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake.  A show featuring the work of the current artists in residence, David King and Christine Lee is being held this January 23 & 24, 2009.

There are many gardeners that would say that a garden is strictly about plants. I have to admit I am entranced by flowers, striking plant combinations, edible plants, native plants and the like, and I relish and honor the horticultural expertise of the plantsperson.  I would argue that gardens have also been about The Idea: the yearnings of the collective unconscious.

The great Mannerist and Baroque gardens were expressions of temporal power; the sublimation of nature manifested as a triumph of civilization.  The landscape parks of the 19th century, as well as the “natural” gardens of Robinson and Jekyll can be seen as a reaction to the despoiling of the landscape during the industrial revolution:  an expression of the Arcadian ideal.  An art garden at a dump speaks to us now: with a planet in peril, each person, each family, every gardener can make a difference to save the Earth we love.

For further information and to visit the garden go to: www.sunsetscavenger.com

Garden tours are held for adults on the third Saturday of each month at 10:00 a.m. The tours are geared to those interested in knowing more about the AIR Program, and for those interested in applying to be one of  the artists. Tours also include an overview of the company and the garbage and recycling operations in San Francisco. For safety reasons, the tour is not appropriate for children under 8 years of age. To make a reservation for a Saturday tour, please call Deborah Munk at (415) 330-1415.

Every year there are a few gardens that I have to visit. These are “destination” gardens: gardens worthy of a dedicated outing. The Green Gulch farm and garden in the Marin headlands is of that category. Usually we visit this garden in the summer, when parts of the garden are filled with the heady fragrance of rose, nicotiana and lavender. Recently we came here on a foggy, winter morning, and we found that these gardens and the farm had a special quality in every season.

Green Gulch Farm Zen Center, also known as Green Dragon Temple (Soryu-ji), is a Buddhist practice center in the Japanese Soto Zen tradition.

The public is welcome to the gardens and plant nursery, and to participate in their upcoming garden programs. On Sunday, March 15, 2009,  head gardener Carolyn Cavanagh along with Sukey Parmelee lead an edible native plant walk through the surrounding hillsides.

I had the pleasure of talking with the head gardener Carolyn Cavanagh about the gardens and farm. The most formal of the gardens was influenced by the horticulturist Alan Chadwick who contributed not only a sensibility for gardens in the English manner, but also introduced biodynamic techniques to the farm. The plantings were carried out by Wendy Johnson. A circular yew hedge (Taxus baccata) surrounds the garden punctuated by flowering arbors on the four directional entrances. Carolyn commented that the yew hedge is rigorously pruned to keep it at its current height. Centering the garden is a Japanese snowbell (Styrax japonica) surrounded by low clipped hedges.

The garden lies in a gently sloping valley which decends west to the Pacific ocean. The surrounding coastal hillsides are protected land, part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.

The flower borders maintain winter interest with foliage contrasts of russet, light green and gold.

In the orchard, espalliered fruit trees are interplanted with rows of currants and raspberries.

The orchard encompasses 28 varieties of fruit trees.

Carolyn explained that many of the trees have a dwarf root stalk to keep harvesting manageable. High density or angle plantings are incorporated; the entire orchard is highly pruned.

A sculptural manzanita, Arctostaphylos sp.,  stands at the entrance to the Garden of Peace.

A Tibetan cherry tree, prunus serrula, is festooned with mementos as a path for healing.

A highlight for me during a visit to these gardens is the plant nursery. Certified by California Organic Farmers (CCOF), I have purchased many plant treasures here such as the California native flowering current, Ribes sanguineum. This plant delighted me with long racemes of pendulous pink flowers, and I was excited to see what I would discover here today.

Abutilon sp with Penstemon barbatus blooms profusely in the nursery garden even in winter. I noted that these are plants to consider for color in the garden this time of year.

Many of the plants featured at the nursery are also grown in the surrounding gardens. I find this helpful as many plants are semi-dormant this time of year, and it can be difficult to envision what a plant will look like when mature. Some plants can be glorious when left to grow a few seasons in the garden, but can look rather twiggy and hapless when constrained in a pot. I purchased a one gallon plant that I have wanted for years, Angelica archangelica. The small, celery like leaves in its container gives little hint to the tall and wild display I hope to see from this plant in my garden this summer.

Libertia peregrinans does give you a sense of its habit when potted. With its striking orange-brown foliage, Libertia planted in the adjacent garden was an effective contrast to the yellow-green foliage of feverfew, Chrysanthemum parthenium.

With its deep overhanging roof, the potting shed overlooks the nursery garden, now mulched for winter.

Made partly of straw bale construction, the shed was built by the community.

A series of alcoves are incorporated into the thick north wall.
Volunteers are welcome to work in the garden on Tuesdays from 9:00 a.m. until noon. Volunteers are invited to stay for lunch.

The nursery is open every day, year round from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. The nursery features organically grown plants which flourish in the coastal climate: flowering perennials, natives, culinary and medicinal herbs, shrubs, bamboo and fruit plants. Plants are for sale throughout the day.

Progressing through the valley as it gently descends to the sea, the series of ornamental garden rooms opens to cultivated land. Late blooming Calendula flowers thrive amongst rows of asparagus and a stately cardoon, Cynara cardunculus. On the morning of our visit, windbreaks of Monterey cypress, Cupressus macrocarpa held back the coastal fog.

Begun over 30 years ago by gardener emeritus Wendy Johnson, the Green Gulch farm was a pioneer and leading voice in the employment of organic farming methods in the United States. Today the farm is a living model for sustainable agricultural practices and land stewardship.

A summer residential apprenticeship program is offered in organic gardening and farming. The apprenticeship emphasizes meditation practice and hands-on work experience and instruction in organic farming methods. Former apprentices have gone on to establish organic farms, bakeries and promote positive growth in their communities in numerous ways. Jeremy Rourke, a public school teacher, works with elementary school children teaching computer science and chess and mentors at-risk youth:  “I found out a lot about myself at Zen Center….On the farm time slows down….You see the lifecycle of plants; it’s going at its own speed. Giving up my time expectations of life helps with patience in working with the kids.”

Led by Alan Hawkins, workshops in beginning beekeeping are offered.
Now that it is winter the bees are cold and in their hives. We wish them well.
–Carolyn Cavanagh, Head Gardener at Green Gulch Farm

From May to November the farm provides its organic produce to the San Francisco vegetarian restaurant, Greens. Located at Fort Mason, the restaurant’s large windows command spectacular views of the Golden Gate and the Marin Headlands. Chef Annie Sommerville, with produce from Green Gulch Farm, has elevated vegetarian cuisine to influence and inspire chefs nationally.
Today we are surprised if a good restaurant does NOT have vegetarian options. Greens helped pave the way for this acceptance.
http://www.greensrestaurant.com

On Saturdays from June to October you can buy Green Gulch produce at San Franciso’s Ferry Market Plaza. Located on the Embarcadero by the bay, this market is a happening place with regional growers of certified organic produce, artisanal breads and cheeses.
http://www.ferrybuildingmarketplace.com

For more information and to visit Green Gulch Farm and Gardens:
http://www.sfzc.org

The website includes many excellent public transportation and rideshare options.

Directions by car:
Take Highway 101 to the Highway 1/Stinson Beach exit. Turn left onto Highway 1 (Shoreline Highway). Follow the green signs for Highway 1/Stinson Beach. After 2.5 miles the road forks - bear left towards Muir Beach. Go 2 more miles and you’ll see a eucalyptus grove and large sign on the left indicating the driveway, “Zen Center/Green Gulch Farm/Wheelwright Center.”

The basis of farming is actually awareness…. Understanding interconnectedness, understanding impermanence, birth and death: it’s all right there on the farm.

 –Sara Tashker, Green Gulch Farm

 an old pond
 a frog jumps in
 the sound of water
                        Basho 

In a narrow coastal valley nestled in the Marin headlands is the Green Gulch Farm Zen Center, also known as Green Dragon Temple (Soryu-ji). This Buddhist practice center in the Japanese Soto Zen tradition seeks to “awaken the bodhisattva spirit, the spirit of kindness and realistic helpfulness”. This approach is also applied to the stewardship of the land. On the site of what was a sprawling ranch, the Green Gulch tributary, the gentle creek that traverses this place of gardens and meditation, had become choked by invasive non-native plants.

The following images are of the restored habitat today, where many diverse native plant species thrive.

Overlooking the pond, the Zendo (meditation hall) is a refinished barn from the former ranch.

embraced by water;
hugging cedars, grasses, reeds:
brown spongy swamp mud
                                    Sondra Ball

the single rivulet
how slowly a pond
lets go
                                      Laurie W. Stoelting

Introduced as an ornamental houseplant from South Africa, Cape Ivy (Delairea odorata) is now considered a serious invasive pest along the California coast. Cape Ivy expands vegetatively as a vine through the spread of stolons. Fragments of the plant as short as one half inch, carried by runoff or landscape machinery, can take root and colonize new areas. In riparian corridors such at Green Gulch, choking mats of Cape Ivy have been removed. Other exotics such as nettles and poison hemlock have been removed as well and hauled to the compost yard to produce finished compost. The result of the restoration is a rich diversity of native grasses, annuals and aquatic plants.

tender willow
almost gold, almost amber,
almost light…
                Jose Juan Tablada

In sheltered areas along the creek, young Coho Salmon have been spotted. The restored creek has been brought back into balance with the cycles of the seasons and the rythms of nature.
For more information, and to visit the Green Gulch Farm Zen Center:
http://www.sfzc.org

soldier ferns, soft moss 
beside the slow moving creek
the sun’s rays are warm
                                Sondra Ball
 

The week before Christmas we woke up to the sound of soft rain. Now, most people would pull up the bedcovers and linger over a cup of coffee. That does sound wonderfully cozy, but I could not pull on my hiking boots fast enough. Armed with my coat and camera I set out into the misty rain to one of my favorite gardens in San Francisco: the Native Plant Garden at Strybing Arboretum.

Longfellow writes of “Air sweeter than wine”, and in the park this rainy morning I breathed in the heady ozone: damp, earthy and of green, growing things. I was not a completely solitary visitor to this garden as numerous house finches (Carpodacus mexicanus), golden-crowned sparrows (Zonotrichia atricapilla) and other small birds clustered in the shrubbery, their presence made known by droplets of water as they flew from branch to branch, and by the babel of their birdsong. I imagined they were saying “Party over here! Party over there!”

With the arrival of the winter rains in northern California, now is a time to plants seeds of all types, and especially native plant seeds. These native wildflowers are uniquely adapted to this area’s climate of cool, wet winters and long, dry summers.

A few years ago when I first visited the Native Plant Garden at Strybing I thought to myself, ” I know these plants, this place, this feeling. This is the California landscape in which I was born and that I love”. Other parts of the arboretum are quite beautiful, but the trees are too big, the lawns too expansive for me to attempt to re-create in my own garden. I felt this native garden could be a teaching laboratory for me. This last year I planted seeds representing some of the plants shown here to see how they would do in my own garden. Most of the native plants in my December garden are dormant or are just seedlings. In a few months these plants will begin to grow and flower.

 The following pictures are from a visit I took to the Native Plant Garden at Strybing in April of 2008, and assists me with plant selections when planting seeds right now.

Tufted Hairgrass, Deschampsia cespitosa, has grown luxurient in this spot by April. In the arboretum one cannot venture off the path, but imagine sitting in the springy grass with your back nestled in the hollow of a California Buckeye tree, Aesculus californica, just coming into leaf.

The yellow flowers of meadowfoam, (Limnanthes douglasii) are spectacular planted en masse, and to do that economically one must do this by seed. This plant is delightful in flower, but I have learned a few things along the way in its cultivation. Limnanthes in my expeience can be devastated by slugs and snails when tender and young. Also, It is not reliable as a bedding plant. In reviewing again how it grows naturally in its habitat, I can see now that it prefers a natural, dry watercourse. There must be enough moisture deep down for this plant to “live happy and grow”.

I think I will try this again in the descending walk between the upper and lower sections of my own garden. The natural stepping stones could be made to effect a natural watercourse, interplanted with meadowfoam. Let’s see what happens this spring!

Without a doubt, one of the easiest of California wildflowers to plant by seed is the orange flowered California poppy (Eschscholzia californica). I have found to my delight numerous species of this type that have white flowers, yellow flowers, pink and even apricot flowers! The orange is the most common, but withstands a variety of climatic conditions. It can be a perennial in the right conditions, and very happily re-seeds. This time of year I am busily transplanting Eschscholzia sp. from where I feel they should not be (like under the garden table), and to where I think they could be set off best. When planting with seed, thinning the multitude of plants that emerge will allow a few to grow to be quite vigorous and provide a delicious display of blooms for bees …and for you!

The pink flowered Clarkia sp. turned out to be one of my great dicoveries this last season. Shown here intermixed with native grasses, planted alone in my own “test kitchen” in a miniscule plot of my own garden, I was amazed by the vigorous and showy blooms we had from this seed to plant. Clarkia comes in a number of species, some double, some single flowering — all are spectacular.

There is a common misconception that one can simply throw native plant seeds willy-nilly about and expect a flowering garden. My personal experience is that this is simply not the case. Most seeds like good, well-drained amended soil, and do need to be planted in the soil to prevent being eaten by birds.  But I do love birds and I have a birdbath and feeder with good seed for them. Mother nature has many seeds to expend to birds, and the law of averages applies. If you have a limited budget, and wish to plant directly by seed with plants such as Clarkia, plant them carefully in a well prepared bed.

In this type of garden, pure color appears to float like daubs of paint on a green colored ground.

One of the California native irises, Iris longipetala flourishes in great stands in the coastal prairie.

Iris douglasiana produces many different colored flowers. It is instructive for me to see how nature arrays these plants in clumps. Where one Iris in the garden is a jewel-like specimen, a great drift of these flowers provides a spectacular display in the spring. In the background is the yellow flowering tree, Fremontodendron californicum

 Admission is free to visit the native plant garden at Strybing Arboretum http://www.sfbotanicalgarden.org/

Further information can be found with The California Native Plant Society: www.cnps.org

From their website:
The California Native Plant Society (CNPS) is a non-profit organization dedicated to the understanding and appreciation of California’s native plants and how to conserve them and their natural habitats through education, science, advocacy, horticulture and land stewardship

Many seeds and rhizomes of the plants shown here can be purchased online with Larner seeds: www.larnerseeds.com.  I hope to visit Judith Larner Lowry’s demonstation garden on the coastal bluff of Bolinas soon. That will be another garden adventure!

As the days of the year grow shorter, the Pacific coast near San Francisco clears of fog. This is my favorite time of year to be out and about, to be in the sun; an expedition to a world away minutes from home. Recently, on a warm and hazy December afternoon, we took a jaunt to one of my favorite places, the Marin headlands.

 

Like all good adventures, getting to the destination is part of the fun. Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco is a thrilling preparatory to the headlands itself. As one progresses over the bridge the traffic slows. People strolling and admiring the view flank the right, bicyclists on the left. The towers of the bridge rise above, first one and then the other as you pass underneath. Painted the distinctive color, “international orange”, the towers for all their Art Deco modeling are muscular and thrilling as they suspend their cables over the roiling sea below.

 

Take the Alexander exit beyond the bridge. Turn left under the freeway. Turn as though heading south back onto the bridge. Veer up the hill to Conzulman road. At the rise there is a small gravel parking area on the left. follow the trail to Battery Spencer. This area is currently undergoing a native plant restoration.

 

The view from Battery Spencer is a familiar one to many from television and the movies, but that does not lessen the heady experience when one stands on the natural platform gazing over the cliff. 

 

The headlands played a vital role during WW II in the defense of the bay and the nation. Strategic military batteries in the headlands, once top secret, are now linked by public trails.

 

Another former battery, Hawk’s Hill is now the home of the Golden Gate Raptor Observatory. From Battery Spencer, continue 1.8 miles on Conzulman road until it becomes one-way. Park off the roadway and walk up the trail on the west side of Hawk Hill past the locked gate. It is a just a few hundred feet to the summit.

 

Raptors, such as red tail hawks, golden eagles and peregrine falcons use the headlands as a migration thoroughfare.  While on migration, birds of prey use air movements, such as rising thermals and updrafts on hills to maintain their altitude. Many hawks prefer to fly over land, avoiding open water.

 

Upon reaching the Golden Gate, migrating raptors are squeezed by the San Francisco Bay on the east and the Pacific Ocean on the west. Hawk’s Hill is the ideal spot to witness this remarkable migration as the raptors, if they can catch a good tail wind, zip across the two mile gap.

 

From their website: http://www.ggro.org/index.html

“We saw the two adult peregrines flying around and showing off. From there, the peregrine party took off. We had a total of nine buzzing the hill, chasing around red-tails and otherwise causing havok during the course of the day. We also got a nice look at an adult golden eagle.“

 

A few paces from the summit is the perfect bench to observe the raptor migration, passing ships and to simply commune with the beauty of it all.

 

Hawk’s Hill, with the cypress trees crowning the summit, can be seen from Point Bonita.

 

Shaded from the afternoon sun, a winding footpath leads to the Point Bonita lighthouse. Warn children that like all exciting adventures or a quest, sometimes one must proceed with caution!

 

Wild cabbage, Brassica oleracea, thrives on these marine cliffs.Tolerant of sea salt, but not plant competition, wild cabbage is perfectly edible. I am familiar with this type of plant from my childhood as it was one of the few things that would grow on the rocky seaside cliffs near my family’s home.

 

The path to the lighthouse leads through a tunnel. The sound of the ocean on three sides is like what one imagines when placing one’s ear to a nautilus.

Emerging from the roughly cut tunnel , one then crosses a bridge placed between rocky outcrops. The tunnel was dug by the Chinese workmen who also constructed the Sierra tunnels for the Transcontinental Railroad.

 

 The atmosphere surrounding the lighthouse is diffused with mist from the surf below, blinding with reflective light.

 

Point Bonita lighthouse is reached by a final suspension bridge over crashing waves.  Standing sentinel at the entrance of the Golden Gate, The lighthouse has guided mariners through a spot notorious for strong currents, deadly shoals, rogue waves and great white sharks!   Originally the lighthouse was located higher up the hill. Frequently enshrouded by dense fog, the lighthouse was relocated to its present location just above the Pacific and below the fogline.

 

Living in the keeper’s residence next to the lighthouse was not without its challenges. In the early 20th century Keeper Alex Martin and his wife fashioned harnesses for their young children as they played outside. This fortunately saved young Dorothy as she was found one afternoon dangling over the cliff secured only by her tether!

 

Unlike Southern California, most of Northern California’s cities are inland. The coast here is wild, austere and wonderfully unspoiled. One can spot grey whales with their calves off this coast this spring as they migrate from Baja to Alaska. Look for the blow or spout up to 15 feet high. Sometimes you will see the fluke, the 12 foot wide tail of the grey whale at it descends into the deep.

The road from Point Bonita winds north to Fort Cronkhite. Once a military base during WW II, this fort, along with other military posts such as Fort Baker and the Presidio across the bay in San Francisco are now part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area and the National Park Service. Once a seasonal home of the Miwok, this beach and lagoon is today a place to contemplate, run around, fly a kite and spread your toes in the sand.

The straightforward military buildings of Fort Cronkhite have found a new life with organizations such as the Headlands Center for the Arts.  Mission statement:

In creating Headlands Center for the Arts, the founders sought to re-configure the role of the artist from a marginalized position to that of a central participant in our society. Over 1,000 artists have worked with Headlands in its various programs. We host artists from different disciplines and cultural backgrounds, and our public programs bring artists together with scholars, activists and other professionals. By facilitating interaction across traditional boundaries, Headlands works to introduce artists and audiences to new creative processes, and to broaden the range of possibilities for art’s function in our society.

I honor the creative process, and I welcomed this rare glimpse into these artists’ studios. The above studio intrigued me: the tableaux of wing chair placed resolutely away from the stunning view beyond the windows; the wine bottle and glass carefully placed.

I loved this studio for its delicious ferment: the masses of squeezed paint tubes and brushes; old fashioned metal trash cans and a monitor fitted with a propeller.

I love the tubes of classic oil paints: burnt sienna, raw umber, Vandyke brown, Prussian blue, Alizarin crimson, sap green, cadmium yellow, manganese blue, titanium zinc-white…

The Headlands Center for The Arts mess hall has an open kitchen. Filled with light from south facing windows, I thought this place had a wonderful atmosphere. Dinners accompany many of their public programs.  www.headlands.org

The “mess hall” walls feature hand painted paper panels; each unique panel depicting the native plants and wildlife of the headlands.

The Marine Mammal Center Hospital is currently closed to the public. Their new facility, currently under construction above Fort Cronkhite will open in 2009.
The Marine Mammal Center has rescued thousands of ill and orphaned marine mammals such as elephant seals, sea lions, sea otters, harbor seals, fur seals, dolphins, harbor porpoises and the like at their facility. Their programs have educated thousands of schoolchildren and members of the public to our interdependence with marine mammals, their importance as sentinels of the ocean environment, the health of which is essential for all life.
http://www.marinemammalcenter.org

Located in Fort Cronkhite near Rodeo beach, The Headlands Native Plant Nursery is one of five native plant nurseries operated by the The Golden Gate National Park Conservancy. These nurseries grow over 140,000 plants for up to 50 different habitat restoration projects.

Volunteer at this or any of the other nurseries:  www.parksconservancy.org.

Come grow with us at the Marin Headlands Native Plant Nursery! Each year, we grow over 30,000 plants to restore natural habitats within the Marin Headlands. The dedication and support of our volunteers are vital in the effort to grow plants, collect seeds, maintain the nursery facility, and much more. Our projects are outside, fun, and always hands-on.

East of Fort Cronkhite on the San Francisco Bay is Fort Baker, set on Horseshoe Cove.

A military site since the 1860’s, Fort Baker’s distinctive colonial revival architecture was constructed in the early 20th century.

Gracious officers’ quarters were placed around an expansive parade ground. Stands of Monterey Cypress and Blue Gum Eucalyptus were established as windbreaks.

Fort Baker is now part of the Golden Gate National Park. The historic structures which had fallen into great disrepair have undergone a stunning restoration. Currently undergoing LEED accreditation for its eco practices in reuse and green build, Fort Baker is home to The Institute at The Golden Gate, an organization that partners with others to address environmental issues such as climate change and preserving urban open space.

The newest lodge in the National Park system, Cavallo Point-The lodge at the Golden Gate is acclaimed for its commitment to the highest standards of environmental sustainability.

As as special treat during our visit to the headlands, we enjoyed a memorable lunch at the restaurant at Cavallo Point Lodge, Murray Circle.

Being out in the sun and fresh air works up an appetite, and ginger spice pot de creme with homemade biscotti was the perfect way to end a day spent exploring the headlands!

This spring these tawny hills will explode with wildflowers. From military base to national park, the Marin Headlands is enjoying a renaissance. From rescuing marine mammals, tracking raptors, restoring plant habitats and creating art, people are actively working together to make a difference, in this place and for the planet. With its incomparable views, trails, soaring eagles and volunteer park stewards, the Marin Headlands delight and inspire me in every season.

Movement, change, light growth and decay are the lifeblood of nature, the energies that I try to tap through my work. I need the shock of touch, the resistance of place, materials and weather, the earth as my source. I want to get under the surface. When I work with a leaf, rock, stick, it is not just that material itself, it is an opening into the processes of life within and around it. When I leave it, these processes continue.
      -Andy Goldsworthy, Sculptor, “The Spire”

 The forests of the Presidio are all planted by man and as such they are a cultural landscape: an artifact, naturalistic more than natural; the forest and The Spire re-iterate similar themes and re-enforce the other.
      -Peter Erlich, Forestry Manager, The Presidio Trust

 A towering new sculpture has been completed in San Francisco and is soon to be open to the public. Located on the highest ridge of the Presidio National Park and surrrounded by century old and recently planted Monterey cypress trees, “The Spire” is the most recent work by the British artist, Andy Goldsworthy. Known for his site specific works using natural, found materials such as rock, branches and snow, Goldsworthy created the 100 foot tall structure from the mature cypress trees on the site, felled at the end of their life span.

Last weekend  I enjoyed a tour of the site and forest from Peter Erlich, forestry manager for The Presidio Trust. I came initially to see the work by Goldsworthy, but in the end I became facinated by the history of the Presidio forest, its geology and challenges so enthusiastically shared by Erlich. Growing up near Manhattan, Erlich felt more at home along the Hudson River than he did among the skyscapers of that city. In 1968, like so many others of that generation who heard the clarion call, he came to San Francisco. It was here in Northern California, with its mountains and forests that Erlich, an English major, found poetry in the landscape. Graduating from the University of California at Berkeley in their Foresty program, Erlich eventually began to work in urban Forestry. As Forestry manager at the Presidio he oversees the re-forestation program there. Erlich is a man who loves trees and what he does, all the while quoting his favorite poet Yeats and the story of the remarkable urban forest that is the Presidio.

From 1776 to 1994 The northwest tip of the San Francisco peninsula was a strategic military base which guarded the Golden Gate, the natural portal to one of the world’s great natural harbors. Despite the spectacular views, a posting at the Presidio was considered a great hardship. Combined with damp fog, the winds of the Pacific sent sand from the dunes in a relentless drive to the base. Soldiers stationed at the Presidio complained of endlessly digging sand away from buildings, from the sand in their bunks and the sand in their food.

 

From 1886 to 1900, in a remarkable feat of horticultural endeavor, the army planted over a hundred thousand Monterey Cypress, Blue gum Eucalyptus and Monterey pines in the sterile sand of the Presidio. Plantings were placed on the high ridge to accentuate the topography as in the 19th century landscape manner. The establishment of these man made forests on these once barren dunes rapidly changed the climate of not only the Presidio, but of the growing city of San Francisco. With the wind and sand blocked from these new natural windbreaks, the Presidio  became the verdant landscape we see today.

The Forests of the Presidio are now coming to the end of their natural life span. Planted in a short 14 year period of the late 19th century, the forest does not have the mix of young and old trees which characterize a natural forest. While Eucalyptus continue to thrive, the Monterey cypress and Monterey pine are declining. Each year the trust replants two or three acres, staggering their efforts to create a healthy forest that can be sustained. Although these forests are not native, they have become an integral element of the park’s ecosystem, providing an important wildlife habitat. The trust has removed 150 of the dying cypress trees at the grove along the Bay Area Ridge Trail. These are the materials for Goldsworthy’s Spire. The trust will replant 1200 trees in this area in the next 10 years.

The Presidio plant nursery has taken on the task of propagating the tree seedlings. The process begins with germination in seed flats.The shoots are then placed in 5″ long tubes until they are ready for Stewey tree pots. This brand of pot is very tall. The typical one gallon pot creates circular roots, while the extended Stewey pots encourage long roots. These roots are just what the seedlings need to become established in the poor soils of the Presidio.

An collection of impromtu sculptures by anonymous artists, assembled from the scraps of lumber from the creation of The Spire, is located opposite the site on the Bay Ridge Trail.

The crew that  constructed The Spire, with Goldsworthy directing from below, is the same crew that is engaged in the forestry program at the Presidio. I think of this as the perfect metaphor for this art installation and shows the blending between the management of the forest and the creation of art.

The Spire by Goldsworthy is a kind of poem to the forest which surrounds it. Growth, decay and renewal are all suggested here. As the young plantings of cypress grow, the sculpture will become part of the larger forest setting.

 Eventually, The Spire will disappear into the forest.

 

 

Oh, heck! I thought we would have this beach to ourselves”

 

This has become a favorite family expression since my aunt Joan first said this on Ten Mile Beach many years ago. We were dragging long canvas sacks, formally U.S. postal bags, now filled with the driftwood we had collected. Far down the coast, obscured by spray from the long rollers off the Pacific,a solitary figure could be seen at the water’s edge. We laughed till our sides hurt at the absurdity of the situation. Even today all one of us has to say is” Oh, heck” to produce a smile. It was not that we were unfriendly, but we had come to love this long stretch of sand and grassy dune for its splendid isolation.

 

It was here that nature seemed at its most elemental. Rocky coves where pines met the sea gave way to the grand gesture: the expanse of water and sky in the brilliant light, rolling hillocks of sand, their southeasterly progression slowed by beach grass shimmering in the wind.

 

Not for me are the crowds of a summer’s beach. When November arrives the lonely, windswept coast north and south of San Francisco calls to me. There is a place between twin lighthouses where the shoals part to reveal a curve of sand and grassy dune not unlike the ten mile beach we had enjoyed all those years ago. Elephant seals congregate in the reserve adjacent to this spot. Once when we were hiking this stretch of coast I spied a long tree trunk on its side, probably washed ashore in the last storm. Ah ha! the perfect place to sit with one’s back to the dunes facing the sea. As I approached, one end of the” tree trunk” moved! It was a male elephant seal, a rogue, banished from the nearby colony. We quickly left him to his place in the dunes.

In the lee of the fore-dunes, lagoons fringed with green and gold rushes pool without access to the sea.  Driftwood and the occasional saltwater deluge adds a brackish tang. Some winters, a storm coincides with an extreme tide sending waves through the hollows of the dunes to the lagoons resting beyond.

The hollows of the dunes are irresistible for me to lie down in.  Sheltered and warm, the rythmic sound of the surf is hypnotic and somnolent. If one lies still long enough, birds and other wildlife will come quite close. I have opened my eyes to see a towhee regarding me next to my face as it scratched about the grass. Here my mind wanders to thoughts of life and of nature; thoughts about grasses surrounding me in the dune hollow and then to grasses in gardens.

In a corner of  the Barbro Osher sculpture garden at the de Young Museum in San Francisco, landscape designer and University of California professor Walter Hood evokes the topography of grassy sand dunes which once covered this site.

Designed by the Swiss architects Herzog & d’ Mueron, the de Young museum incorporates a cantilevered canopy over the terrace of the sculpture garden. Clad in perforated and embossed copper panels, the monumentality of the structure required a landscape that speaks to primative essentials. Hood’s grassy dune alludes not only to the original landscape of the park, but to the reductive qualities of the dune landscape itself.

As night falls over the grassy dunes the soothing sound of the surf become a roar. What is seen and unseen in this landscape is like the lighthouse on the near point sending a whiplash of light over the waves and dunes. Without the companionable focus of a driftwood bonfire surrounded by friends, the dune landscape at night is grand and terrible in its immensity.

                moonlight -

                                    a sand dune

                                    shifts
                                          
                                                              Virginia Brady Young, 2002      

               

 

 

 

 

I have been a new garden blogger on Blotanical twice!

 

A few months ago I had some problems with the feed on my blog and I was no longer showing on Blotanical. A directory of garden blogs from all over the world, Blotanical  was created by Stuart Robinson. Indeed, Stuart’s own blog, Gardening Tips “N” Ideas, originates from Western Australia. It was Stuart who corrected the problem of my blog’s feed and to my great happiness I was back amongst my fellow garden bloggers, or “Blotanists”, on Blotanical.

 

During the time I was “in the wilderness”  It was the people I had come to know on Blotanical that I missed the most.

 

To all of the Blotanists I treasure your joy in the natural world, your expertise and your enthusiasm. I have also been honored when you have shared your challenges as friends will do. Your posts have informed, inspired and delighted me.

 

Even though we are many miles away, you are like a friend with a green thumb passing on cuttings and seeds of plants you have grown to share.

 

Thank you Blotanical

Warm regards to all of you.

 

Philip