Another stab at addressing my back slope

You may have noticed that I often refer to my back slope in negative terms, frequently referencing it using adjectives like "horrible" and "hideous."  The slope and I have a difficult relationship.  I didn't even realize the area was part of the property my husband and I were buying until the day of our official home inspection prior to the close of escrow.  My husband pointed out the steep, narrow dirt path leading down to another garden area sandwiched between neighbors on two sides - it was invisible from the main area of the back garden.  It was separated from one neighbor by a wire fence fronted by a bay laurel hedge, while a gigantic Yucca elephantipes informally marked the boundary line between us and another neighbor.  The area consisted mainly of weeds and a mature lemon tree, which sat in a flat area at the slope's base.

My husband addressed the area before I gave it much attention.  Concerned about the number of times I fell trying to get down the slope, he installed a stairway using cement blocks, laboriously working around embedded rock.  He also raised issues with the out-of-control Yucca, leading to its removal, a nightmare process that required help from two separate tree service companies.  I started paying the area more attention after those events but, daunted by the very steep upper slope covered in ivy, I focused on the more manageable area between the cement block stairway and the hedge.

The back slope has had its moments.

This photo of the area's spring display was part of an April 2020 post as part of my brief "Coronavirus tourism" series

The slope's colorful moments are few and far between and the combination of heat, drought and water restrictions hasn't done it any favors.  A persistent knee problem has limited the time I spend in the area under the best of circumstances.  After a few run-ins with fire ants in recent years, I began avoiding the area entirely, which didn't help matters.  

This year, I decided I needed to give up some of what I'd originally planted in the area, filling in with succulents if I planted anything at all.  Encouraged to spend more time there upon learning that fire ants are generally most active when temperatures are between 72F and 96F, I took advantage of our cool-season temperatures and got to work cleaning up the area.  I pulled up a lot of dead plants and removed a large Carpinteria californica.  At my request, my husband also cut down a dead fig tree planted by the prior owner.

This is a view of the back slope taken in early January

This photo was taken earlier this week following the removal of the fig tree

When I first planted the lower area of the slope, I used edging material constructed out of wood, plastic and nails the prior owner had left behind.  It decayed over time and I'd begun to pull it out.  Eyeing the concrete bricks removed from our back patio when we pushed out the kitchen wall during our 2019 home remodel, I decided I'd try using them as replacement edging.

I've already reduced the store of concrete bricks stacked behind the garage by close to a third

So far, I've placed 30 large bricks along the outer boundary of the bed and used 24 smaller bricks to support plants within the bed 

The following two photos show the spots in which I've used the smaller bricks.  I plan to add more of these in areas in which I've removed the prior edging material.

I planted a new Aloe maculata (aka soap aloe) here, as well as a several Aeonium 'Kiwi' cuttings

I added cuttings of Aeonium 'Blushing Beauty' and 'Agave 'Blue Flame' here, along with more concrete bricks

The bricks are very heavy and hauling them down the slope isn't much fun.  It also isn't easy digging them into place or stabilizing them in very dry soil but I'll continue laying the bricks on a gradual schedule. 

Even though I feel I've barely started my latest project, I think it already looks better than it did last year.  The heavier-than-usual rain in December is owed much of the credit for the improvement but the cleanup helped.  Here's a look at the plants remaining in the lower bed:

Ribes viburnifolium (aka Catalina currant) is in full bloom

The remaining 4 artichokes have produced new foliage.  There are Centranthus and Euphorbia 'Dean's Hybrid' seedlings dotted among them.

The noID Aeonium arboreum fleshed out in response to the rain.  The gray Santolina handled last year's summer heat without protest so it gets to stay.  The Arctostaphylos bakeri 'Louis Edmunds' planted in December 2018 is still small but seems okay.  More Centranthus foliage can be seen here and I expect it'll bloom in spring as usual if we get a bit more rain.

The trailing Lantana is blooming vigorously.  Buried underneath it is an unidentified Abelia species I obtained in 2012 by mail order that produces lavender flowers.

Pelargonium 'White Lady' has self-seeded freely.  It isn't flowering much at this point but its bright lime foliage is appreciated.

The Agave attenuata always look good.  The noID bearded Iris here are the only ones that bloom reliably in my entire garden.

The plants at the bottom of the slope also got a boost from December's rain:

All the Drimia maritima (sea squill) bulbs have produced foliage and clumps of calla lilies (Zantedeschia aethopica) have appeared, although not in the same number as in earlier years.  The Centranthus seedlings I planted under the lemon tree years ago have formed a mass.  I've thinned the self-seeded alyssum (Lobularia maritima) but there's still a lot of it.  An Osteospermum has also seeded itself in the background on the left.

I've attempted to remove this Matilija poppy (Romneya coulteri) at the base of the tree-sized Ceanothus arboreus twice but apparently never get all the roots.  It produces beautiful flowers on a plant that grows well over 6 feet tall and it's too big for the space.  Our gray water system dumps our washing machine's bounty here, which probably helps sustain it.

The gray water run-off may be insufficient to support the 3 Pittosporum 'Silver Magic' we planted along the property line.  I cut back the smallest plant shown here as it looked dreadful but I'm not sure it's going to make it.  All the ivy growing around it may not be helping matters.

This January photo shows the largest Pittosporum in the distance to the right of the lemon tree.  It and the middle shrub are both looking sparse when viewed in closeup but some judicious pruning may help them.  The bare tree to the right on the Pittosporum, planted part-way up the slope by a prior owner, has never produced ripe fruit but it would be a challenge to remove.

The ornamental pear trees (Pyrus calleryana) in full bloom beyond the rampant ivy are part of our neighbor's property

In addition to finishing edging the lower bed with bricks, I need to prune the Pittosporums, weed the area at the base of the upper slope, and cut back that mass of ivy creeping across the property line and down the upper slope.  I'm also seriously concerned about the health of the lemon tree, which needs some dead branches pruned out, and the bay laurel hedge, which needs to be treated for black sooty mold.  However, I'm giving myself the weekend off.  Next week, fire ants permitting, I'll pick up on these projects.

All material © 2012-2022 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party