A short mid-day walk in Golden Gate Park

at the DeYoung Museum...



I love the old statues in Golden Gate Park. Lions, sphinxes, Irish patriots, men of science, flying gods slaying serpents. So romantic!

I went up to the tower, but none of the pictures I took there look very good. They have a huge, very detailed satellite map of San Francisco on a wall up there that's more interesting than the panoramic view. Panoramic views of San Francisco are everywhere.



This picture is blurry.



At Stowe Lake...



Evidence of recent goddess worship...



I came this close to taking the rusty metal one home with me (pinching his thumb and index finger very close together, but not actually touching). I had all kinds of reasons why that would be okay. It's not like it belongs to anyone anymore, just sitting there. I'm entitled to take it. Wouldn't a good Wiccan appreciate my desire to have this witchy relic in my garden, imbuing the environment with its mystical energy? Wouldn't she like to see Wiccan influences spread and propagate?

But then I realized I didn't have a bag, and I'd have to carry it in my hand and people would see me with it. They'd laugh. And what if I got spotted by a Wiccan gang? A gang of hippie witches could totally kick my ass.

Or I could come back with a bag. And wouldn't it be funny to take all the Wiccan artifacts and replace them with lots of little crucifixes and Virgin of Guadalupe candles and portraits of Jesus with a bleeding heart. I'd show them!

A Japanese pagoda from our sister city Osaka.



Turtles, just before a scary little girl came by.

I've got the blahs today.

The neighborhood is quiet and foggy this morning. I don't feel like working in the garden even though there is so much to do.



You can't see it in all the confusion, but I just planted Cercis occidentalis in there. The Princess Plant is overused, I know, but I like it. I divided the potted Cymbidum last winter...I think both divisions might bloom this year. I'm going to put a bench in that bare spot in the middle left.



I'm done with Dahlia imperialis after this years' bloom. A bench is going to go there next year, and I won't have anyplace to grow it after it goes in. Does anyone want a segment? With protection from the wind and ample water, D. imperialis grows 10' in a few months from a 6"-8" segment of trunk. And then it makes big flowers in winter before dying back. I'll have dozens of segments to give away by early spring 2007.



The streets are quiet.







I should have taken a picture of this front yard last winter when the landscaping was new. It looks great. Someone did a good job.









Princess plant and aeonium (sp?); nice combination.







I get coffee and a bagel (an everything bagel with cream cheese, cukes, sprouts and onions) and have a seat in Holly Park.

Monterey cypress. Growing too tall for their own good, but still pretty.



I've taken this picture dozens of times over the last few years, sitting here with coffee and bagel.



Then I swung on the swing for a few minutes, and watched that guy do his yardwork.



The camera gives the court a weird angle.



The big kids are back in school, but the little ones still have plenty of free time.



Cute little girl!



Done with coffee and bagel, I head over to the other park in the neighborhood for a little hike. This cactus garden looks good all year long. Even dying, cacti are interesting to look at. The pink flower is Amaryllis belladona, commonly called Naked Lady.



I usually take this path.



But today I'm taking this one.



Thickets of fennel and blackberry



give way to Eucalyptus globulus.



The path brings me right up to the back of these houses. Too bad for the people in the houses, I guess. They have great views of Diamond Heights and Twin Peaks.





Onwards...





and upwards.













I can sense the guy on the hill in the center of the picture sees me taking his picture.



I'd love to replant that area with the native blackberry, and add some Fremontodendron and Salvia Clevelandii.



That's Holly Park in the distance, where I started out.



Closer...

My house is always obscured.



This neglected ginger lily (Hedychium) is the third one I've seen lately in bloom. Meanwhile, mine, pampered and well-tended, remains flowerless and I'm thinknig about removing it. Maybe I'll stop pampering it instead.



I took a similar walk last July.

The world's largest flower. Link.

"How many of these strange plants still survive is unknown, but the last of them can be expected to vanish as the remaining primary forests of Borneo and Sumatra are burned."

More here. Scroll down to #10.

Which Buffy Girl Are You? Find out @ She's Crafty

I don't think I'm super Anya-like.

But I do adore that once-twice-a-demon (RIP)...

Six horrifying parasites.

Link.

A micro-compact house in the backyard would be totally cool.

"Freakboy had these temporary 'Wolverine' piercings done at a shop in Brazil; I'm guessing that they're a little impractical around the house and on the toilet, but they're probably good conversation-starters at church and such."

Picture at the link!

Back from a week in Provincetown, Mass

A lone (humpback?) whale visiting with the ferry on the way to Provincetown, Massachusetts. Early August. We had its attention for about ten minutes. I wish I'd taken a movie instead of stills, but I didn't think of it.













I didn't take as many pictures of my vacation as I thought I did. We did something photographable every day, but I didn't bring my camera with me, and I didn't take any pictures in Provincetown itself, or of any gardens. (Ptown front yard gardens have very uniform vegetation in the summer: coleus, hydrangea, lilly, and privet were everywhere, and lots of humungous hosta. I also saw one nice Amaranthus caudatus and two big Hydrangea petiolaris which were cool.)

This is the place we rented:









The books I brought with me to read:



(I like to read many short books on vacation as opposed to fewer, longer books. I also like to reread favorites, like Lot 49 and Demian. That Carl Sagan book was good, but spent too much time dealing with UFO abductees.)

We walked a mile-long promontory out to the dunes and beach.









This native beach rose was everywhere. Elsewhere, I saw it make big, bright red hips that I neglected to photograph.





Some friends came over and one night we got very drunk and played Uno. I won.

The Bloedel Reserve

Among other things I did when I was in Seattle last week, I visted the Bloedel Reserve. It's a 150 acre estate and you have to make reservations to visit. They only let in 150 people per day. Here are some pictures.

This beautiful Paulownia tomentosa stands next to the visitor center.



The flowers are gone; here are the fruit.



The path leading away from the visitor center, and toward the meadow.



The meadow serves as a transitionary period between the stress of the day behind you and the restorative forest ahead of you. You can see the woods in the distance; you anticipate your arrival as you make progress. A few sentinel trees stand in the meadow to ease the transition.











I want everyone to put this kind of color consideration into their own landscape. Dark trees everywhere? Plant a light tree in front of them!

Inside the woods; Gaultheria shallon (Salal, or Lemon Leaves when used as a foliage cutting in flower displays; the berries are delicious), many ferns, Berberis sp. (formerly Mahonia, or Oregon Grape)...








To be continued... I have to wake up at 6 a.m. tomorrow to catch a plane for the east coast. I'll be gone for a week, and I'll finish this post then.

Cheers.

ADDED: Okay, maybe I'm never going to get all my Bloedel Reserve pictures up. Let's try tho'. Shortly, after entering the meadow, this pond:



All the benches, and there are many, come from Smith and Hawken.



There's a swan, but I couldn't get a good picture of it.



It's just a swan.

So, after the pond, this bridge:



Over this gulch...



Comes before this bridge, which is bent at 90 degree angles to confuse bad spirits...



Some pretty pitcher plant off the side of the bent bridge:



Madenhair ferns fail in my garden. Look at that texture.



We approach the Bloedel House...



Salix. I have the species name in a book...Will try to remember to post it.



Behind this Salix is the Japanese garden. We'll get there in awhile.



I'm not a big fan of hydrangea...



But these are pretty:





At the house, I'm most impressed with this planting. It looks like grape, but w/ really big leaves.



And soft thorns.



I'm not even sure if these are called thorns. Maybe there's a better word.



I also like this duck in the Buxus.



I can't remember what came between the house and the Japanese garden, so I'm going to skip to the Japanese garden, and append anything I can't place at the end of the post.





Acer.



I remember identifying it as Vaccinium ovatum under the Acer palmatum, but I could be wrong.



Leaving the Japanese Garden, there's a lovely moss garden.





I think this is beautiful:







Time to go... there's a reflection pond that was kind of under restoration so I didn't take pictures.

On the way out.



Back to the meadow where I started.

I caught a while hare today and went to visit the Blake Garden in Kensington.



Blake House is the official residence of the president of the University of California. The house sits on a 10-acre garden used as a teaching facility for UC Berkeley's Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning Department.

The gardens are fabulous.

Paths beckon on either side when you walk in.

The red plum tree stands out in a sea of green. I head to it.



It's loaded with plums.



One of the very few acceptable uses of a boxwood, imo: to frame something wild. It works pruned laxly like this.



I'm not alone.



She's with this guy.



Male and female, doing a little dance. The manzanita nearby are dancing too.







The paperbark exfoliates.



This is all going on in the gardens fronting the house where there are lots of places to sit and watch...



And lots of small ponds and pools for reflection and contemplation.

Shady ponds



and sunny ponds.



Exquisite.



The reflection pool...





The fish are 2 feet long.



For the reflective moment consider the union of opposites. Not just earth and sky, but the orange fish swimming in the reflected blue sky.

(Note to self: for a better photograph, cool down the reflected sunlight on the lily pad.)

The house from the far side of the reflection pool. Magnolia to provide winter interest..? Magnolia bloom on and off all year in California because the weather is so mild. The flowers don't know whether they're coming or going. Magnolias are best pruned open to provide dappled shade.



The parking lot planting.



Across the parking lot, a more traditional European-style.











Wisteria pruned--ruthlessly--yielding a tree.



Let's talk about it. This gardening achievement makes a stunning specimen. This one needs a little work, and the shrubs near it should be removed or reduced. I missed it in flower, but the legumes dangle like ornaments on a summery Christmas tree. Next to it, another little pond. Whoever did this, I salute you.

A row of something recently cut to the ground.



Sporting vigorous new growth.



Why ever mix mortar when dry-stacked stone looks so good?



Some good-looking new steps.



Neglected pamaps grass (or jubata grass, whatever), reeking of regret. "If only we could go back in time and not plant this." Who knows. Maybe it's just me.



Like a hummingbird, I can spot the Leonotus from here.



Closer...



Closer...too close.



The Madrone announces entry to the California section.



Another one who likes to exfoliate.





The Madrone is one of many plants named for a Menzies--in this case, Archibald Menzies.



San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom descends from the Menzies clan. Newsom's maternal grandfather, Arthur Menzies, helped plant the California garden in Golden Gate Park, and it now bears his name.

I think this is Muhlenbergia rigens, Deer Grass.



Lupinus arboreus in the fork. It must look better in spring and early summer. Now you barely notice it.





Eriogonum giganteum, St. Catherine's Lace.



Santa Cruz Island buckwheat.



More of it. Gorgeous.









That was all very Channel Islands, but what's a California garden without a redwood grove?



A bower made from cut Sequoia branches.



And that awful Hedera. It's everywhere. It does serve a purpose tho'. It's helping to hold up the hill in this shot.



The stream bed is dry in summer.



A trickle of a stream for the explorer to cross.











The path out...



A flower garden.



Neat beds.





A runner bean teepee.



Some roses.



A lovely farewell.



Another great garden in the East Bay: The Ruth Bancroft Garden.

Added: I went back to the Blake Garden in October 2006.

"[C]hildren who grow up knowing their parents keep track of them 24/7 fail to internalize the common sense and limit-setting that can only emerge from the experience of making independent judgments." Link.

Yes. These "paranoid parents" are infantilizing a whole generation. What are these kids going to do when they get jobs? How is our society going to accommodate them?

Read the whole thing.

I like this too:

By making snooping relatively impersonal, these technologies prompt mothers and fathers to bypass important moral questions about their relationship with their children. If it's all right to scrutinize your daughter's text messages, then it should be OK to read her diary. If it's all right to electronically monitor her driving, then it should be equally kosher to get in to your own car and follow her. Yet there are good reasons most sane adults would balk at these low-tech invasions of their children's privacy.

"Jitterbugs = crabs, of course. Which [Dorothy] got from the Cowardly Lion, who — being a big pussy — represents the lesbian sex. The Tin Man plays the obvious complementary role."

Link.

Cineraria Seed Psychodrama

A 2- to 4-foot-tall form of Cineraria has naturalized in some of San Francisco's public parks. The flowers bloom in shades of purple, blue, violet, magenta and white that look uncommonly beautiful in the soft light of late winter when the inflorescences peak. You'll have to take my word for it because I can't find a single picture I took this year.

Anyhow, it's mid-summer now and the plants have mostly gone to seed. I pinched off as much as I could. The Cineraria will look fabulous in my backyard this winter and spring, but first I have to clean up the seed.



I've never done this before, but how hard can it be? I started outside, letting the evening breeze carry away the dusters and light chaff. I helped by lifting pinchfulls of the mix about ten inches up off the paper and slowly letting the mix fall while the breeze blew through it. The dense little seeds landed with a distinct tap while the larger, lighter particles just blew away.

This took care of about half the chaff.



And here's some of the seedless garbage I collected in a bowl.



At this point, I wasn't sure how to proceed. Get tweezers? Would that be crazy? Me sitting at the kitchen table tweezing out seeds slightly larger than salt grains? But that's what I did, the whole time thinking I should stop. And, thinking in turn, what would it say about me if I stopped before the job was done? That I'm a quitter? That I can't commit to doing tedious but eminently do-able work? Well, whatever. This was my first time. Perhaps I have more to learn. Next time will be better.

Anyhoo, I got hungry and this is where I stopped.



Not too bad, I think.

Lengthy slideshows of really ugly people.