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

Eleven years ago the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao opened its doors to visitors from all over the world, and thus ushered in “The Bilbao Effect”. Cities wishing to be considered “world class” and attract those tourist dollars have since constructed remarkable structures to house cultural institutions, from the Getty Center in Los Angeles to the new museum of Islamic Art in Doha, Qatar. These museums put the capital “A” in architecture and I think of them as the cathedrals of our time. The impulse which built the Canterbury cathedral and sent thousands on the Way of St. James to Santiago de Compostela was of course by nature, spiritual. Within that paradigm, however, was also the desire to get out into the world and see something new, to gather together with others and to be inspired.

The California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco recently opened its doors to a wildly enthusiastic public. Located on the site of the previous academy which had been damaged in the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, the new academy designed by Renzo Piano not only houses a stunning collection of exhibits celebrating the natural world, but, in the tradition begun at Bilbao, the building is itself a star attraction. This building, however, takes the next leap by going beyond architectural theatrics. Receiving platinum certification under the LEED program (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) the academy boasts an impressive list of recycled materials and energy savings. Rather than merely discussing environmental concerns such as climate change and alternative energy, the new academy is an environmental philosophy made real in three dimensions.

One of the things that I particularly wanted to see during my visit to the academy was “The Living Roof”. Green roofs in other applications have shown to reduce the “heat island effect” of higher urban temperatures due to large expanses of black tar roofs and pavement. Green roofs reduce the interior temperatures of buildings reducing energy costs for cooling. The living roof incorporates these qualities with an original and artistic arrangement of undulating hillocks which lies over the domes of the interior rainforest and planetarium. To keep the soil and plants secured on the slopes, an ingenious solution was developed by the firm, Rana Creek. Biodegradable trays with planting mix were placed like tiles over the structure. A collection of native plants knit the whole together.

California native plants thrive in this environment despite months of drought. Floral displays of California aster Aster chilensis delight as well as provide an important nectar source for butterflies and bees.

Upright stands of purple flowering Prunella vulgaris emerge from wild strawberry Fragaria chiloensis.

Numerous plants are yet to emerge. Look for glorious displays this spring of pink flowering Sea Thrift Armeria maritima, yellow and white Tidy Tips Layia platyglossa, and orange california poppies Eschscholzia californica.

The glass roof of the central piazza can be glimpsed from above

The academy’s central piazza is a place for people to relax in an atmosphere of structual lightness and transparancy.

Views of the surrounding park are invited into the museum. The twisting copper tower of the neighboring De Young musuem is enjoyed from the piazza as a kind of monumental sculpture.

I spoke with Larry Reed and John Loomis, landscape architects with the firm SWA Group who designed and implemented the construction of the academy gardens. They described that when the living roof was first installed and before the planting trays had time to set, they came to the central piazza each morning grateful that the plantings had not collapsed into the piazza below! The Living Roof, seen from below, has proven to be a technological success as well as an artistic one.

The living roof is enjoyed by visitors from a viewing platform. This arrangement brings to mind the Karesansui, Japanese viewing gardens. The roof terrain is an abstraction of the hills of San Francisco, contemplated from a set location.

From the viewing platform one can see the band of photovoltaic cells which contributes to the energy needs of the academy.

The living roof affords new vistas into the park. Beyond the concourse is the Japanese Tea garden and the De Young Museum sculpture garden.

Flanking the academy are the east and west gardens. At first glance, I thought these gardens were lacking in much to interest the plantsperson. After being in them for a bit I found that their direct approach with rectangles of expansive grass was the perfect counterpoint to the busy interior. After visiting the busy academy’s exhibits, the gardens are a respite where childeren can run around and people relax.

A hanging sculpture by Maya Lin and carved sculptures of animals by Benny Bufano grace the grounds.

Landscape architects Larry Reed and John Loomis describe the former site of the east garden as a “cesspool of trash cans and concrete. The former academy was a collection of mis-matched buildings. The new academy has a smaller footprint, allowing the creation of the gardens. The new design is also pulled back from the site of the Shakespeare Garden.”

“The forests of Golden Gate Park were in decline” according to Reed and Loomis.
“Pine trees were dying, and rather than try to recreate a formal 19th century style garden, SWA group focused on de-selecting pine trees and planting redwoods. Understory plantings of oak and bay laurel were established to impove the park’s forest in a wholistic way”

If you plan to visit the academy, I would recommend becoming a member. It would be less expensive in the long run if you plan to visit more than once and there are times set aside for admittance to members only . The academy is worthy of support not only for the museum itself, but for the important contributions it makes to the field of science.

From the Academy’s website:

The California Academy of Sciences is a multifaceted scientific institution committed to leading-edge research, to educational outreach, and to finding new and innovative ways to engage and inspire the public.

The Academy’s mission - to explore, explain and protect the natural world - extends to all corners of the institution; from a research expedition in the highlands of Papua New Guinea, to a teacher training program in a California classroom, to an interactive game on the museum exhibit floor.

My personal thanks to landscape architects Larry Reed and John Loomis for discussing with me their work on the academy.
http://www.swagroup.com/

For more information of the California Academy of Sciences
http://www.calacademy.org/

Academy Sustainability Statement:

Sustainability is often defined as meeting current human needs without endangering our descendants. There is a broad, scientific consensus that our current environmental demands are unsustainable, causing climate change, degradation of natural habitats, loss of species, and shortages of essential resources.

The California Academy of Sciences’ mission to explore, explain and protect the natural world compels the Academy to engage in scientific research relevant to sustainability, to raise public awareness about these urgent problems, and to minimize its own environmental impact.

The Academy’s green building signifies its commitment to sustainability. The culture and internal practices mirror that commitment in the areas of energy, water, waste management, transportation, purchasing and food. Academy programs highlight the living world and its connection to the changing global environment. Academy research focuses on the origins and maintenance of life’s diversity, and its expeditions roam the world, gathering scientific data to answer the questions, “How has life evolved, and how can it be sustained?”

Honeybees and bumblebees, hummingbirds and cedar waxwings, books in the teahouse and friends on the lawn, wildflowers and poppies dancing in the sun: this was the year in my garden.

A few years ago I decided to remove a number of perennial shrubs in my San francisco garden to recreate the feeling of the meadow garden I had known as a boy. My aunt and grandmother, whom we called Joan and Grammie, lived above a cove on the wild Mendocino coast north of San Francisco. My father one morning recounted a dream he had about his sister Joan where she was growing plants on a clothesline. I can well believe that if Joan had wished to have a clothesline garden, she would have achieved spectacular results. Joan did not let drought, deer or fierce ocean winds deter her. She remarked that in a garden such as hers the law of averages applied. If some of the cuttings survived and some of the seeds sprouted and managed to live despite the odds ranged against them, then all was good. When tamping the soil over a seed or around a cutting she would say “Now live and be happy”, and I suppose this sentiment also applied to people as well, for we had many happy times.

In this section of my garden which recieves dapped light from tall tree ferns Chrysanthemum paludosum and forget me nots ( Myosotis sp.)”knit” a border with poppies and wildflowers about to emerge.
 My aunt was proof that a garden need not cost anything at all in terms of monetary outlay. All was needed was an inventive and positive approach. We collected lupine seeds up and down the coast and a treat was an expedition to our “favorite nursery”, a ghost town appropriately enough called Casper, located above the cliffs. Here plants popular in the early 20th century such as Love in a mist( Nigella sp.) and Shirley poppies (Papaver rhoeas) had naturalized with native wildflowers.

It was just these informal effects of shimmering color and loose form that I set out to create, in a small hilltop city garden, using the planting method of seeds and naturalization. By closely observing plants that have naturalized in the wild, and giving them a similar situation, the garden began to behave as a wildflower meadow. Over these last few years the wildflowers and old fashioned cultivars have self sown and created the dense and diverse tapestry we first enjoyed on those wild gardens perched above the Mendocino cliffs.

Stepping stones collected from the cove and hauled to a few gardens since create a path from the lower to the upper garden.

“The Teahouse” is too modest to live up to its name, but it takes its tradition from a “Teahouse” my twin brother Patrick and I built for my aunt. Built of driftwood hauled up from the cove, that teahouse was inaugurated by a tea ceremony where my aunt and her friends all came in costume! Joan wore her Chinese brocaded coat and jade and Patrick and I wore the vintage karate jackets, bleached for the occasion, that she used to wear while cooking. A grand time was had by all!
The current Teahouse incarnation is used every day as a place to read a book or muse in the shade. Facing Southwest, it commands a borrowed view over the city to Twin Peaks. After the above image was taken, sweet peas climbed the plum tree with a heady fragrance.

Despite the loose, naturalistic form this is still a small city garden, so foxgloves which self sow in the front of the border or Clarkia in the lawn are dug up and transplanted to where I feel they would be set off best. Recently I gathered seeds from many of the plants such as Shirley poppies to ensure a continuous bloom for future seasons.

Once the poppy seedheads have dried, vents open below the crown. I gather the dried poppies and place in a paper bag with the seedheads down. The tiny black poppy seeds exit from the vents. I then store the seeds in envelopes labeled with the name to be planted in the Spring.

I have not shown all the aspects of my garden: the area we grow berries, strawberries and herbs, the garden of symbolic cairns and rocks, the view of the city beyond.

 I appreciate every type of garden, from a terrace garden filled with poetry, gardens with rare specimens such as Pinus montezumae, an enchanted pond grotto only achieved by hard work, a celebratory victory garden, sidewalk gardens which enhance the community, gardens of art and Martians, gardens which bring joy and change the world and so many more.

And so progresses the rhythm of the seasons, where in every turn is a new activity, something new to consider and the delight of the promise to come.

Wayne Thiebaud, Street and Shadow, 1982-83, 1996 http://www.crockerartmuseum.org, Oil on linen
35 3/4 in. x 23 3/4 in. Crocker Art Museum, gift of the artist’s family

“Vertiginous.”
This is the way Wayne Thiebaud (the painter, not artist, he insists) describes the landscape of San Francisco. Various dictionaries define this word as having an aspect of great depth, drawing the eye to look downwards. A giddy precipice. Inducing a feeling of vertigo, dizziness or of whirling.  Alfred Hitchcock must have had the same thought in mind when he set his 1958 psychological thriller, Vertigo, in San Francisco. Against the backdrop of a gleaming cityscape James Stewart and Kim Novak play cat and mouse as they plunge their cars over the city’s precipitous streets.

There are other cities with hills and expansive views such as Lisbon and Hong Kong, but it is the imposition of a relentless grid of streets with a willful disregard for the terrain that gives San Francisco its unique quality. No discussion of gardens in San Francisco is complete without considering the city’s topography and layout. Behind the many densely packed wood-framed structures lie hidden small “pocket” gardens. Some are placed well below the dwelling, while others perch precariously above, accessed by winding wooden stairs.

Wayne Thiebaud, 24th Street Intersection, 1977. Oil on canvas, 35 5/8 x 48 in, Private collection, copyright Wayne Thiebaud

Wayne Thiebaud once lived down the street from me in the Potrero Hill neighborhood of San Francisco. I never did get up the nerve to borrow a cup of sugar (or a tube of Alarizon crimson) from him, but it was a source of neighborly pride that he was there, just the same.  Thiebaud’s paintings of mass produced pies and cakes vaulted him into the “pop art” scene of the 1950’s. With paint as thickly applied as the fillings and frostings he depicted, Thiebaud’s work revealed an optimistic regard for his subjects, and did not share the deprecating satirization seen in later pop art.  In 1973 Wayne Thiebaud moved to Potrero Hill, at the time a working class enclave of Russian and Eastern European immigrants. Located on the bay below downtown, this neighborhood of  low rents, sunny fog-free weather and spectacular views from its grid of plunging streets attracted writers such as Alan Ginsberg (who wrote Howl here), Lawrence Ferlinghetti, and the artist Robert Bechtle.

Potrero Hill where Thiebaud Lived is placed directly below the cityscape of downtown.

Inspired by the setting, Thiebaud produced paintings of fantastic cityscapes, with cliffs for streets punctuated by improbable gardens. All were executed using strong, saturated pigments reflecting the brilliant technicolor light of the city.

  
 Wayne Thiebaud, Down Eighteenth Street, 1980 Oil and charcoal on canvas http://hirshhorn.si.edu/

Thiebaud presents not a literal representation of San Francisco, but the idea of the city. Wayne Thiebaud describes the process of painting this series: I’ve always painted out of doors, with a french easel, some in the city, but not very much. So I started from the San Francisco intersection, and I remember one time painting on the street, and a nice man came along, an older fellow, and he stayed longer than most people would, and he watched, and finally he couldn’t resist, and he said, “I’ll be God-dammed. You are painting the intersection.” He couldn’t believe it. so I knew from the beginning I was in trouble.

After painting directly on the street, and making 20 or 30 pictures that way, I felt none of them were very successful. The reason for not feeling that they were delivering on what I had hoped for had to do with some sort of dramatic feeling in this particular San Francisco landscape, and the on-site works weren’t reflecting this. And during this time, I had a chance to talk to the critic Brian O’Doherty, and he was relating to me how Edward Hopper worked on his city pictures. He made lots of different sketches, watercolors, drawings, and then he put them together, like a stage set. So I thought I would try that and see if it might help. I went back to the studio, and began to make a lot of drawings with graphite or charcoal on paper, which I could move around a lot, kind of playing around with them. These drawings seemed to offer more of the visual feeling that was closer to the idea of San Francisco. So, when I returned to painting again, the city itself looked more like the composite drawings I had been making. An that dialogue between what was actually there and what was made up became the basis of the entire series
Wayne Thiebaud: Cityscapes
Exhibition catalog with an interview with the artist by Richard Wollheim. 52 pages with color reproductions. Published by Campbell-Thiebaud Gallery, San Francisco, 1993
http://crownpointpress.stores.yahoo.net/waythiebcit.html

Wayne Thiebaud Apartment Hill, 1980 http://www.nelson-atkins.org/ 

It is the San Francisco neighborhoods whose names end in “Hill” (Potrero Hill, Telegraph Hill, Russian Hill, and Nob Hill) where Thiebaud’s cityscape paintings come to life. In a walk I took recently up and down these hills, the glancing light of the late afternoon sun placed some streets in deep shadow, while the apartment towers on the summits were illuminated like signal beacons.



Tourists crowd six deep before the crooked Lombard street as they will do before the Mona Lisa. I want to ask “Haven’t you seen a winding street before?” Looking closer, however, at these families from India and France, those polite Dutch kids with their blond dreadlocks, I see that everyone is smiling, laughing and appear quite giddy. This is the city as amusement park.  The camera in my hand is nothing unusual on these streets. Indeed, because of it, I fit into the scene.



 As I continue my walk to Nob hill I come to suppose that in a Thiebaud cityscape we are all a brand of tourist, where what is real is so improbable that only the fantastic comes close to reality. San Francisco as depicted by Wayne Thiebaud blurs the concepts of truth and the idea, where the city itself becomes a kind of polychrome dreamscape.

Planted smack dab in the middle of San Francisco’s Civic Center Plaza is a demonstration garden of edible and ornamental plants that has the potential to not only create a radical shift in our food production, but a re-imagining of the garden itself.

“Utopian ideas with real world applications” is the way that artist and designer Amy Franceschini describes her work. While travelling in Ghent in the the east Flanders province of Belgium, Franceschini  discovered that this city underwrote private vegetable gardens as being considered critical for local food supply and the health of the environment.

Amy Franceschini believed that our “centralized” agricultural system led to food production far from urban centers. Not only was this wasteful in fuel, but in turn led to higher prices at the supermarket. Growing produce locally in under-utilized backyards and public lands in urban environments meant that organic practices in food production could be insured. Food and fuel independence in uncertain times is also a national security issue. Inspired, Franceschini turned her sights to that most innovative of American cities, San Francisco.  Joining with Blair Randall of The Garden for the Environment, San Francisco’s non-profit demonstration garden, a pilot project funded by the city of San francisco named Victory Gardens 2008+ was created. This program calls for:

A more active role for cities in shaping agricultural and food policy. This program offers tools, training, & materials for urban dwellers to participate in a city-wide transformation of underutilized backyards, public lands, school yards, and marginal urban sites— turning them into productive growing spaces.  The SF Victory Garden program builds on the successful Victory Garden programs of WWI and WWII but redefines “Victory” in the pressing context of urban sustainability.  “Victory” is growing food at home for increased local food security and reducing the food miles associated with the average American meal.

The city hall gardens inhabit the same site used as a victory garden during WWII. In the 1943 image above, the victory gardens here were utilized more as a demonstration garden, but it inspired an enthusiastic populace to plant victory gardens in Golden Gate Park and throughout the region.Victory gardens throughout the US in the 1940’s accounted for 41% of the national food production!

The City Hall gardens today are sponsored by Slow Food Nation, Seeds of Change who specialize in 100% certified organic, openpollinated seeds, and The Studio for Urban Projects which focuses on art, architecture, ecology, and the public realm to generate projects that re-imagine the urban landscape.

I spoke with Blair Randall,  Victory Gardens 08+ Program Director, about the structure of the planting areas. He explained that, “The raised beds of rich composted topsoil was necessary as the existing soil under the Civic Center Plaza was sandy and low in fertility like many parts of San Francisco. The circular paths between the beds aided in harvesting.”  Drip irrigation, shown with black tubes in the image above, is an integral part of their approach. Water-wise drip irrigation is necessary in an environment which experiences drought and water scarcity. The traditional kind of jet spray irrigation is inefficient and also contributes to powdery mildew in this climate of dry days and foggy nights.

Randall continues, “This also becomes a matter of good public policy for cities with municipal gardens who wish to set a standard of water conservation.”

Bold effects are achieved with contrasting plantings of chartreuse and bronze colored leaves. It is exciting to consider that this new approach to vegetable and edible landscapes has not only environmental benefits, but also innovative aesthetic possibilities.

While strolling through this garden, I could not help but notice a profusion of flowering plants both in their own beds, as well as incorporated within the beds of edible plants. These flowering plants are used to attract pollinators. Featured here are California native plants such as the pink flowering Clarkia amoena, and two species of Baby Blue Eyes, Nemophila menziesii, and Nemophila maculata “baby five spot”

In many home gardens, households struggle between those who have an interest in edible plants, and those for whom it is not a garden without flowers. Traditionally, except for a tidy row of marigolds, flowers were banished from the vegetable patch. Adventurous gardeners may have included the artichoke in the flowering perennial border, but generally an apartheid of species prevailed. In the wholistic approach of  Victory Gardens 08+, both flowering  and edible plants are integral for a healthy ecosystem.

The focus of Victory Gardens 08+ is of course on edible plants, fruits and vegetables. What is striking to me personally is that when plants such as the squash shown above is elevated as a garden feature, considerations of  the plants usefulness as a food source also takes on new meanings. What may have been taken for granted in a plant which provided food in the past, now in this context can be appreciated for its aesthetic, emotional and spiritual qualities.

 The gardens featured here attracted an incredibly large and diverse crowd of people who wanted to experience this place with their families and connect with others. In my last visit to this garden I sat on the straw bales which define the perimeter and had a great time chatting with the people next to me. Watching the huge crowds of people enjoying this garden I saw young people taking in the scene, an Asian grandfather excitedly pointing out plants to his family, gardeners in straw hats, mothers and fathers. It came to me that even though people could certainly visit a community garden to see edible plants, it was the very fact that this garden was placed in our most public of places, the Civic Center Plaza, that created a setting where everyone felt they could participate. Blair Russell  remarked “This garden in this particular setting creates a civic engagement; people of all backgrounds come together here and discuss what kind of city they want to live in.”

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This morning I asked a few friends this question:  ” What do you think of when I say the words wild strawberries?“

 ”Pat and Pam both thought of the Ingmar Bergman film of the same name.

 ”It sounds like the name for a girl band”, said John.

Josip and Ulla  said it reminded them of their respective childhoods in Bosnia and Denmark.

Josip collected wild strawberries in an open glade of the woods above his Bosnian home of Banja Luka. Accompanied by his brother, mother and baka (grandmother), they collected vast bounties in a glass jar in the heat of high summer. Once a snake startled them foraging and they avoided that particular patch the next summer!  The wild strawberries served at home were mashed and mixed with whipped cream.

The wild strawberries in Ulla’s Danish childhood summer home in Dragør never made it to the table or in a dessert. They were eaten first thing in the morning with the dew still on them. The intense flavor of the tiny fruit is what she remembers most. Had any wild strawberries been spared these dawn raids, she says they would have been incorporated into a dish of raspberries and red currants called rodgrod med flode.

What got me started thinking about wild strawberries was the discovery yesterday of a crop of tiny delicious gems in the wild strawberry patch we have in our garden in San Francisco. We have two strawberry beds. The bed of the garden strawberry Fragaria ananassa produces a prolific crop of the kind of large strawberries that makes you think of the Fourth of July and strawberry shortcake. The bank of wild strawberries Fragaria vesca produces small fruit of intense flavor. Like Ulla’s Danish garden, we savor these wild strawberries directly off the plant as soon as they ripen.
Growing in open woodland glades, I have tried to create a  situation in my garden which replicates where the wild strawberry grows naturally. The soil is somewhat acidic and well drained. The site has full sun during the day, and dappled shade in the late afternoon. I have planted the wild strawberries next to the garden bench so friends could discover a “taste sensation” as they sit and enjoy.

It is important that one does not plant the mock strawberry Potentilla indica. Invasive in many states, this noxious plant has similar leaves to the true strawberry (fragaria sp.), but not its habits or flavorful fruit.

I love taking hikes along the northern California coast, not only for its natural beauty, but to see native plants that are available in  plant nurseries in their natural situation. The California native beach strawberry, Fragaria chiloensis does not have very sweet berries, but is an excellent ground cover for the coastal home garden . Shown in the image above growing in its native habitat near the coast in August, one can see that this is an aggressive species. Spreading by a web of interlocking runners, the beach strawberry stabilizes the soil and prevents shifting dunes and erosion. Notice how green this plant is even after months of drought. The coastal fog provides enough moisture for the soil under the dense plant cover. A large area would be wanted if one were to plant this, with full sun and sandy soil.

As with Ulla and Josip the wild strawberry brings back memories for many people of summers past, of childhood innocence and hopes. Psychological associations and emotions of loss and regret are intertwined, too, in a plant that evokes such strong recollections.  In Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 film Smultronstallet or Wild Strawberries, an aging professor returns to his old home and in a dreamscape of memory re-lives his young love, Sara, collecting wild strawberries. He watches in dismay as Sara encounters his brother Sigfrid whom she kisses fervently, spilling the wild strawberries in their passion.

Wild strawberries can evoke yearnings for idealized rusticity, for the pastoral. In the 1898 Elizabeth and Her German Garden, Elizabeth Von Arnim describes her fastasy cottage in a glade of the Hirschwald:

I know the exact spot where it should stand, facing south-east, so that we could get all the cheerfullness of the morning, and close to the stream that we may wash our plates. Sometimes, when in the mood for society, we would invite the remaining babies to tea and entertain them with wild strawberries on horse-chestnut leaves. But no one less innocent or easily pleased as a baby would be permitted to darken the effulgence of our cottage- indeed I don’t suppose anyone wiser would care to come. Wise people want so many things before they can enjoy themselves, and I feel perpetually apologetic when I am with them for only being able to offer them that which I love best myself- apologetic, and ashamed of being so easily contented.

 The 1904 essay, Strawberries by John Burroughs captures the delight of this plant, and its nostalgic appeal:

Lives the country boy who does not like wild strawberries and milk,-yea, prefer it to any known dish? I am not thinking about a dessert of strawberries and cream, but bread and milk with the addition of wild strawberries is perculiarly a country dish, and is to the taste what wild birdsong is to the ear. When I was a lad and went afield with my hoe or with the cows during the strawberry season, I was sure to return at mealtime with a lining of berries on the top of my straw hat. They were my daily food and I could taste the liquid gurgling notes of the Bobolink in every spoonful of them; and to this day to make a dinner or supper of a bowl of milk with bread and strawberries-plenty of strawberries, well is as near to being a boy again as I ever expect to come.

What comes to your mind when you think of wild strawberries?

I just de-activated the “math question” which was needed to post a comment on my site. Others had mentioned this, but I could not imagine what they meant.

My twin brother Patrick took me to task and told me how annoying this was. I logged out and discovered that a person had to perform mathematics to post! Good grief! If I had to do this when I wanted to say hi, or I like your garden etc. I would kick the bucket!

Thank you to all who ever posted in the past. I sincerely appreciate it. Now, I hope you will say hello in the future without feeling you are taking a math test!!!

Very warm regards,

Philip

Last Sunday, on a foggy morning in August, I took a walk through Crissy Field in the Presidio National Park. This year is the tenth anniversary of this parks restoration from abandoned airfield to the ecological treasure it is today. I knew before I went that the spectacular burst of spring wildflowers had long passed, and that I was between the migratory seasons of birds and waterfowl. What I found was that this park had treasures  to be discovered any time of the year.

Situated in the northeast corner of the San Francisco peninsula, Crissy Field is like a platform  placed before one of the world’s most beautiful settings:  on the rugged and sparsely populated northern California coast, the coastal mountains part to reveal one of the greatest of natural harbors, the San Francisco Bay. The “Golden Gate” is not just a bridge, but a natural portal to the one of the world’s most dynamic regions.  In looking at this park today it is hard to imagine that this is a restored urban landscape. Imagine this place a flat airfield, abandoned and derelict. Covered in concrete, asphalt, hazardous waste and studded with weeds, Crissy Field and its views were off limits to visitors.

Because of its stategic location, the Presidio was one of the nation’s preeminent military bases. Crissy Field, named in honor of Major Dana Crissy, was the military’s first Air Coast Defense Station on the Pacific coast. The end of the cold war led to a re-evaluation of the nation’s military locatiions. In October 1994, the U.S. Army lowered its flag for the last time, and the Presidio was transferred to the National Park Service as part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.  Beginning in 1998, tons of asphalt and rubble was removed. A new kind of park was concieved which balanced both ecological habitat restoration  and recreation. A legion of volunteers planted over 100,000 native plant species. Ten years later Crissy field thrives for both nature and people.

The fragrance hits you first: imagine the smell of sage and the astringent quality of artemisia. Combine that with a woody note like sandalwood and you are there.  These are the aromas of the coastal scrub which takes me right back to my childhood growing up on the wild California coast.

This place was once the village called Pentlenuc. It was the winter seasonal home of the Yelamu tribe, associated with the larger Ohlone American Indian tribe which populated the  Bay Area. With only about 200 members, the Yelamu divided their time here and with the eastern parts of  the peninsula.  In June of 1776, Spanish missionaries established the Mission San Francisco de Asisi; the tribe was quickly incorporated into the mission and the Yelamu’s traditional way of life was lost. Today Crissy field remains a spiritual place for the native Ohlone people.

 
Plants and grasses knit together with an incredible diversity. This also helps to conserve moisture in the soil during the long dry season.

The California Aster, Aster chilensis, is a perennial which provides nectar for butterflies and the over 60 species of bees which inhabit The Presidio. It has a long summer bloom despite the fact that it must rely on months of drought. Native to salt marches and grasslands, it has found the perfect habitat at Crissy field and flourishes here.

Striking stands of Wrights Paintbrush, Castilleja weightii, flourish in the coastal scrub. The brilliant red color (also seen in red and gold) is produced not by flowers, but by bracts. Paintbrush cannot live alone as it is a partial parasitic. Sending sneaky projections from its roots called haustoria, it takes nutrients from its favorite hosts such as bunchgrass and wild buckwheat.  The green mounding shrubs are Coyote Brush, Baccaris pilularis. An important element to the coastal scrub, the plants roots secure the soil and emerges when native grassland is spared grazing.

The sticky Monkey flower, mimulus aurantiacus, has a complex relationship with the specialist butterfly Ephydryas Chalcedona. This butterfly lays its larvae on the leaves of this plant in the spring when the nutrients and the sticky resin which coats the leaves are at their highest levels. The high nutrients act to feed the larvae, but the sticky resin prevents the plant from being consumed completely!  When the larvae no longer feed on the leaves in the early summer, the Sticky Monkey Flower converts energy from the production of resin to flowers, producing the glorious displays you see here.

Yellow bush lupine, Lupinus arboreus, begins to produce seedheads in the late summer. When the tidal marsh was being restored, remnants of a historic Yelamu shellmound was discovered. Seeds of yellow bush lupine found at the 400 year level of the shellmound proved that the species was native to the area, and not introduced at the time of the Mexican and American settlements.

The restored tidal marsh is a central feature of the park. Once buried in hazardous waste covered in asphalt, the marsh re-creates the one which once existed behind the coastal dunes.

The Presidio is visited by an astonishing 200 species of birds, more that any urban park in the world. Located on the Pacific flyway, the marsh at Crissy field is visited by 9o% of all the migratory birds who pass through this area from the Northern Arctic to the tip of South America. The restored saltwater marsh is home to 17 fish species.

The restoration of Crissy Field included a balance of natural restoration, historic preservation and recreational use. Large grassy lawns recall the original grass airfield. The distinctive red and white structures include the historic Presidio Coast Guard Station. shown above. It is now the home of the Farallones Marine Sanctuary Visitor Center.
Native plants have been emphasized in the park, but the tall palms have been retained as they help tell the story of the park’s history.

Crissy field now has a popular sandy beach which is popular with children, strollers and dogs. This is not a swimming beach as there are terrific underwater currents, great white sharks and frigid water!

Looking east the skyline of San Francisco emerges from the morning fog.

Another component in the natural restoration of the park is the re-creation of the dune swale habitat which originally existed here. Located between the bay and the tidal marsh, endangered plants which are native to San Francisco are preserved here.

The Beach Evening Primrose, Camissonia cheiranthifolia, has a large root system which secures the dunes from shifting.

Native to the San Francisco dunes, the Dune Tansey, Tanacetum camphoratum, is greatly endangered due to habitat loss. It is thrilling to see this plant in person and to know it has been saved from extinction.

Crissy field needs your help! Volunteer and become a Presidio Park Steward.

From the Golden Gate National parks conservancy website:

Help enhance rare native plant habitat and create important wildlife corridors in the Presidio of San Francisco. Learn about dune and serpentine systems while working in our scrub, grassland, woodland, wetland, and bluff habitats. Our activities will include invasive plant removal during the summer dry season and native revegetation during the winter rainy season. Habitat restoration is a proactive way to participate in environmental healing while removing invasive plants and revegetating with natives. Come learn about local plants and animals and be a habitat hero!

For  more information contact:
PresidioParkStewards@parksconservancy.org
 

The panorama of Rome includes a melange of roof terraces enlivened by rustic pergolas with trailing vines, potted shrubbery and modern antennae; the roofscape is as though the traditional orti (market gardens) of the region has been raised on high above the city. Interspersed in this landscape of tiled roofs and terraces are domes, bell towers, obelisks and monuments, many of which are flood-lit at night.

Rome benefits from a mild Mediterranean climate, and the enjoyment of al fresco living is enhanced by the western breezes off the sea, known in Rome as Er Ponentino. Arriving in the Roman spring and extending into summer, these gentle winds cool the city and its citizens. Romans have for centuries climbed to their rooftop terraces to catch the breeze and enjoy a siesta ( from Latin sexta or sixth hour), partaking of a leisurely midday meal and rest.  Er Ponentino and the roof terrace are inextricable to the rythyms of the city.  Henry James  wrote of spring in Rome:  “There are days when the beauty of the climate of Rome alone suffices for happiness.”

Such reverie is forgotten in the days of the Sirocco, where Rome is subjected to the hot dry winds which carry from its origin the gritty bite of the Sahara.

Saint Ambrose (340-397 CE) in his advice to Saint Augustine wrote:  “Si fueris Romae, Romano vivito more…” (when you are in Rome live in the Roman style…)

In the many visits I have made to Rome, our best experiences have been when we have heeded this advice ourselves. In the image above the great dome of the Pantheon looms over our roof terrace.The Pantheon, constructed in 125 CE by the Emperor Hadrian is the best preserved of the ancient Roman monuments, and is considered one of the most influential structures in the history of western architecture. I think of the Pantheon as the hub of Rome’s Centro Storico, that historic district of old Rome which incorporates the Piazza di Popolo to the north, the Spanish steps to the East and Piazza Navona and neighborhoods to the West. It is a place of pedestrian only streets and surprising piazzas where the theatre of la passeggiata takes place:  Romans of all ages descend from their apartments and roof terraces to stroll in the cool of the evening in the convivial atmosphere.

Russell Page (1906-1985), the influential 20th century garden designer wrote of the Roman roof garden in his book, The Education of A Gardener, “…only in Rome does a miscellaneous pot-grown greenery seem to fit, perhaps because in this hilly town the flowery roof-top of one house is often the terrace of the one above.”

Viewed from the roof terrace Rome’s famed quality of light appears dense with diffused atmosphere; the city basking in an amber luminosity. The chiarascuro of light and shadow on the ochre colored walls gives the city a theatricality as though staged for an opera.

Above the pedestrian-only streets of the Centro Storico, the traffic and noise of Rome seems far away . The cadence of footfall, the passing of a flock of pigeons, low snippets of Italian conversation echo up from the cobbled streets below the terrace. Without automobiles, the sound of the city is like a kind of music; this I felt, was the way Rome sounded for centuries.

Rome has about 400 churches, each possessing at least one if not dozens of bells. This combined with schools, convents and other institutions with a bell or two, means that at nearly all hours of the day there is a bell ringing in Rome. On the roof terrace one can hear them from great distances; bells for the hour, for the quarter and the half, bells for the Angelus, bells that caused Francoise Rabelais to call Rome L’Isle Sonnante, The Ringing Island.

One does not need to rent an apartment with a roof terrace to enjoy this uniquely Roman experience. In the Centro Storico  there are a few rooftop restaurants where one can enjoy a Campari and soda or a leisurely meal. I was recently asked to describe my most memorable meal, ever. I immediatly thought of a lunch in Rome shown in the above image. In heat of the afternoon, the city surrounded us in a somnolant haze; the  gentle breeze and the distant sound of bells was our accompaniment on a rooftop terrace overlooking the eternal city, Rome.

Growing up on the Monterey Bay, we and most people we knew, referred to San Francisco simply as “The City”. A visit here was an exciting prospect; a time to get dressed up, to go shopping, to visit a museum or see a show. And of course, a chance to enjoy a delicious meal in one of San Francisco’s famed restaurants. My family still lives near Santa Cruz, but I have lived for the last two decades in the city, and I have loved every minute of it.

In my business I meet many people from other parts of the country, and some have made comparisons about San Francisco with other cities. Some comments include that Dubai has more innovative new architecture, that New York has a more exciting nightlife, and that Vegas has better shows. To this I have replied that San Francisco “is really just a big village.”  The city is actually a collection of small villages, each with its own character and secrets. Tucked away in the dense urban landscape are neighborhoods joined by pedestrian-only lanes and stairways. I would love to share with you a recent walk I took with a friend. Some of these places are hidden gems, and others are well-worn on the tourist trail.  All have small pocket gardens and vistas which delight at every turn.

We begin our tour on the verdant stairway neighborhood in Russian Hill known as “Havens Place”.

San Francisco was once known as the “Gateway to the East”, and a Far Eastern aesthetic was incorporated with Western traditions early on. The interest in alternative ways of thought and living allowed the emergence of Eastern disciplines into the city’s culture. The Buddhist sculpture and other references is evidence of that influence here.

Protected from the prevailing winds off the Pacific and the Bay, subtropical tree ferns, palms and various species of bamboo flourish in the sheltered micro-climate.

There are many gardens tucked in and around Havens Place. A leading San Francisco plantswoman, Tova Wiley started the annual plant sale at Strybing Arboretum in 1967.

On my last visit, we were delighted to meet the owner of this lovely garden at the top of Havens place who invited us inside.

A gazebo, dry stonework and colorful perennial plantings re-inforce the “country in the city” quality of this area.

As we retrace our steps, tantalizing glimpses of the city emerge from the dense foliage.

A short jaunt from Havens Place is another pedestrian-only neighborhood, Macondray Lane. Considered the inspiration for the fictional  “Barbary Lane” in Armistead Maupin’s Tales of The City, the wooded enclave has had many literary associations. Mark Twain is said to have strolled here while courting the poet, Ina Coolbrith, in the 1860’s.

No. 15-17 Macondray Lane was installed in 1872 after being shipped from the East coast and “around the horn” of South America to San Francisco.

This has to be one of my favorite sights along this lane. I appreciate the contrast between classic architecture represented here by this balustrade and the inexorability of nature.

Above Macondray Lane is the summit of Russian Hill. The entrance to this enchanting enclave is approached by paired ramps with Beaux Arts balustrades. Built in 1915 by Willis Polk (1867-1924), the famed architect was also comissioned by the Livermore family to construct the townhouses shown here.

This house on Florence Place on the Vallejo Crest exhibits the origins of the Bay Area regional tradition in architecture. Contrasting sharply with the Victorian and eclectic wood frame revival styles being built in the city at the time, classical forms such as the portico shown here are incorporated with a shingled downswept facade.  I think the Lutyens bench is the perfect period touch, and the newpaper on the steps indicates this structure is enjoyed as a private residence today.

While I was enjoying the view looking southeast to downtown and the Transamerica Pyramid building, I heard the flock of wild parrots which make Russian Hill home pass overhead.

Panoramic views of the city, the bay bridge, Treasure Island and the East Bay hills beyond are enjoyed from the small park on the eastern side of the summit.

Looking south from the park is the achitect’s Willis Polk’s own home and studio. Built in 1892, the shingled structure was a double residence comissioned by the painter, Mrs Virgil Williams. Polk waived his professional fee in exchange for the eastern half of the property. Years ago I visited Polk’s residence on a house tour and was suprised by the different levels which cleverly hugged the hillside. The redwood interior is flooded with light, and this aerie commands close-up views of the downtown skyline with a breathtaking immediacy.

Looking north from the pocket park, luxury pre-war apartment buildings are part of the varied mix of structures which contributes to Russian Hill’s unique urbanity.
In the late 1920’s the legendary French designer Jean Michel Frank created a luxurious modern interior in the penthouse for millionaire Templeton Crocker. Considered one of the masterpieces of 20th century interior design, the penthouse combined modern forms with luxurious materials. Squares of parchment covered the walls and ceiling, whilst modern armchairs in white leather were placed with parsons tables, some fabicated in bronze and others covered in expensive shagreen.

On Green Street known as “The Paris block” a few brightly painted Victorians are similar to the type of structures which compose the city.

The house at 1055 Green Street has a facinating history. Originally built in 1866, the house was spared the flames of the great San Francisco fire of 1906. In 1915, the architect Julia Morgan (architect: Hearst castle) transformed the house into the Italianate villa we see today. Decades later the interiors were re-worked by the late elder statesman of San Francisco design, Anthony Hail. An enfilade of light filled well-proportioned rooms separated by tall double doors housed museum quality Russian, Scandinavian and French Neoclassic antiques. The rather quiet front facade gives little hint as to the true scope of the villa, the interiors of which came to epitomize the very best of the highly sophisticated taste and style of San Francisco.
The villa’s association with the best of design continued with later occupants, being recently featured in Architectural Digest with the work of the designer, James Marzo. It is interesting to note the fabric swatches taped to the windows in the image shown here suggesting a current design project.

Next door is the ”Feusier-Octagon House”, originally built in 1857. The Second Empire mansard roof was added in the 1880’s. Once considered a model design for healthful living, the San Francisco landmark is one of a few octagon houses which populate the city.

Across the street “Engine House #31  was built in 1907 as a firehouse following the San Francisco earthquake and fire.

Leaving Russian Hill and trekking through the colorful Italian North Beach district we come to Telegraph Hill. Coit tower, placed advantageously on its summit, can be admired from various vantage points in the city as we have seen.  To San Franciscans and its many visitors, the hill and its tower are seemingly interchangeable.

Departing from the commanding heights of the tower, we make our way to another pedestrian stairway neighborhood, the Filbert steps.

Unlike the other stairways we have traversed, there is nothing “secret” or “hidden ” about these descending walkways. On a recent visit we met people from all over the world enjoying this neighborhood’s ambiance. A friend with me said it was like visiting the United Nations considering the various languages heard. It was a wonderfully “only in San Francisco” kind of experience.

This particular section of the steps has a strong Mediterranean quality. The warm, dry summers and the cool wet winters which characterize the Mediterranean climate model, along with the sheltered position of this location, allows glorious displays of Bouganvilia sp. and other frost tender species to thrive.

Leaving this section of the Filbert steps, we can view an Art Deco apartment building immortalized as the residence of Lauren Bacall and the sanctuary of Humphrey Bogart in the 1947 film noir classic, Dark Passage.  I can just imagine the period streetlight amidst swirling fog with the vintage sounds of foghorns.

At night, Coit tower is lit by floodlights.  Combined with the atmosphere of evening fog, the tower is a comforting presence.

San Francisco, along with places like Grenwich Village in Manhattan ,were in the last century havens of Bohemia;  artists, writers and thinkers who rejected the status quo found a place of great beauty and intellectual ferment here. Two world class universities were established near the city in the late 19th century: The University of California at Berkeley  and Stanford. The funding and the rivalry of these two institutions cannot be underestimated in the grounding of the Bay Area as an intellectual center. The development of computer innovations and the internet was naturally born in this free and innovative milieu.

In the 1930’s a remarkable woman named Grace Marchant lived  here at Filbert Steps and Napier Lane. Disgusted by the trash and neglect on these hillsides, Grace Marchant personally moved mountains of refuse including old bed springs and household junk, planting trees and flowering shrubs which flourish today.

Today the garden is treasured by the Telegraph Hill residents who have maintained the garden and insured its survival on a difficult, sloping site.

On the bright sunny morning when we recently visited these steps, the aroma of fresh coffee drifted from this terrace.

Here at the intersection of the Filbert Steps and Napier Lane is a good place to sit on the hand-made bench and commune in  the sheltered setting. The colorful wild parrots which we heard on Russian hill have made this their primary home and dart among the buildings and branches.

Sitting on the bench we can see the gate to the garden itself.

The gardens are completely organic, and mass plantings of drought tolerant species conserve water and prevent erosion.

It is hot now in the Marchant gardens. The fragrance of rose is heady.

Sitting in this garden at the end of our walk, I was reminded of how much I love living here. The city is not without its share of urban problems, but living here has proved to be as exciting and fun as visits were in my youth. I am still discovering things about the city I call home, where a hidden garden is around every corner.

In comparing the portrait of Marisot by Manet and the artist’s own self portrait, important differences can be discerned. Manet (not to be confused with Monet) depicts a woman of direct charm and beauty; a woman whose compelling qualities are set off by her costume all in black. There is an underlying eroticism at play here. In Morisot’s self portrait the artist stands upright; her expression is forthright and without guile. Frippery such as costume and their props are deemed unneccesary to reveal truth.

 
Born into the  Haute Bourgeois, Berthe and her sister Edmé were given art lessons as a natural course of instruction for certain young women of the day. What set them apart was the dedication to their art beyond conventions; a determination beyond all odds to utilize it in art,  taste and new ways of expression. In 1858 Madame Morisot inspired her daughters to paint. She desired that the girls take art lessons so that they could present a birthday gift to their father. She sent them first to the academic painter Geoffrey Alphonse Chocarne who focused his teachings on drawing, and soon afterward to Joseph Benoît Guichard, a former student of both Ingres and Delacroix. Edmé and Berthe enthusiastically applied themselves to his instruction. Under Guichard’s tutelage, the Morisot sisters began to journey to the Louvre in order to study the old masters first hand.

After three years of studio work under the supervision of Guichard, Berthe decided that she wished to study the plein air motif under master landscapist Corot. Edmé joined her sister with these weekly lessons. As part of Corot’s instruction, the family embarked on summer-long painting trips to picturesque locales. In 1862, they rode mules through the Pyrenees. In order to accommodate these expeditions, the Morisot family organized their holidays around Berthe and Edme’s art work for there was no question that the two would have set off on such an experience unchaperoned.

In this painting, we can infer much: the desire to reach out to the outside world, even though it is the cloistered terrace of the home. The subject’s ribbons are like a yoke, the fetters now broken and free and in the same value as the bars to the right of the composition. The cumbersome dress is held up in a natural way, a subtle protest towards the lack of freedom of movement in dress. In this painting, what at first seems a charming scene, is in fact a manifesto for the emancipation of women.

In a personal breakthrough of subject and style, Morisot defines the Impressionistic method with this revolutionary painting, executed in triumphant plein air. All is conditioned by light and natural effects. The viewer is no longer dispassionate, but one with the atmosphere. There is no horizon line, no mythological “other” to inform the scene but what it is: a modern wet nurse and a child. The honesty of this composition and painterly approach cannot be underestimated.  

Morisot produced many paintings of varied scenes. I have selected a few of those which relate to the garden. In her mature work there is a dynamic painterly approach which adresses Morisot’s concern with capturing the ephemeral.

In this remarkable pastel on paper, Morisot treats her subject, pears on pendulous, leafy branches, by dispensing with the subjective; these pears are not a literal representation, nor, indeed an Impressionist reflection. Here, Morisot takes the great conceptual leap of the artist in depicting the idea of pears. In this composition of color and line, Morisot has prefigured the 20th century concern for abstraction in art, and in doing so takes her place in the canon of not only Impressionistic art, but in the revolutionary approaches in thought and the depiction of modern art to follow.

In one of my favorite works by Morisot, the artist is personally direct in this self portrait with her daughter with an economy of line and shade on unprimed canvas. A tour de force of meaning and truth, Morisot deconstructs the process of painting to its most elemental.

The gardens depicted in the paintings by Berthe Morisot always include the family: mothers and children, at times fathers and friends. The immediacy and experience of the natural world is what is celebrated here; the comfort and delight that a garden setting affords to families, and a platform for the artist is what had meaning for Morisot. The ideas found in Berthe Morisot’s paintings are eternal and relevant, and can yet inform us today.