Tree trimming update: There's always collateral damage

The tree service I've used for ten years arrived on schedule at 8am last Thursday morning.  I walked through the garden with the arborist who owns the business and the crew's leader, reviewing what needed to be done.  (The arborist and I'd identified the work required weeks before on a prior walk-through to prepare an estimate.)  The crew of six promptly got to work.  In contrast to most of the tree services that do work nearby, they don't rely on power tools nearly as much so the job is much quieter overall.  They finished the job after 5pm.

I'm happy with the tree work.  Here are the before and after shots:

These are before and after shots of the largest peppermint willow (Agonis flexuosa) on the southeast corner of the back garden.  I think I've had it trimmed only once before.  The foliage had grown thick over the years, especially after this year's heavy rains, and it was shading much of that end of the garden.

These are before and after photos of the peppermint willow on the northwest end of the garden

There are 2 more peppermint willows sited just behind the hedge that lines the street.  Their curtain of foliage shades the garden behind the hedge.  Portions of the trees had branches that had died back, as shown in the before photo on the left.

These shots, taken from an area near the house, show the same 2 trees from the inner side of the hedge

I get the 4 strawberry trees (Arbutus 'Marina') trimmed every year.  These are before and after shots of the 2 trees on the north end of the back garden.

The Arbutus foliage was especially dense after this year's heavy rainfall.  These photos provide a closer look at the tallest Arbutus on the north end of the back garden.

And these offer a before and after comparison of the smaller Arbutus in the back garden

This is a before and after comparison of the Arbutus on the north end of the front garden.  There's an issue here we'll come back to at the end of this post.

These are before and after shots of the large Arbutus on the south end of the front garden.  It sits atop a moderate slope that drops 5-6 feet on the back side of the tree.  This shot was taken from a walkway that bisects the front garden.

These are shots of the same tree taken from the south side of the garden looking west

The Hong Kong orchid tree (Bauhinia x blakeana) got a light touch to remove the bare twiggy stems you can see in the before shot on the left

The crew tackled the thorn-covered twiggy stems in the interior of the 3 citrus trees (Mandarin orange, navel orange and lime) along the fence in the cutting garden.  It's hard to see the difference in the before and after shots as I didn't take closeups but the dead stuff was removed without sacrificing our beloved navel oranges, which usually ripen in January.

Several dead branches from the Magnolia grandiflora in the front garden were removed.  The light in the after shot on the right was weird because I took it during last week's solar eclipse, which was only partially visible here.

These are before and after shots of the cherry laurel (Prunus ilicifolia) hedge that sits along the property line.  It's a delicate trimming job because it's close to our lath (shade) house. 

Last but not least, here are the before and after shots of the ornamental pear tree (Pyrus calleyana).  In retrospect, I should've had the crew cut more off some of the lower branches but I'll see if my husband will take care of them for me.

 

There was the expected collateral damage, annoying but easily repairable.

The small succulents, especially Crassula radicans 'Large Red', looked worse for the wear after the crew cleaned up the heavy foliage cut from the Arbutus above.  As I continued to remove leaf debris, matters only got worse so I pulled the plants and took cuttings - a lot of cuttings (as shown on the right).  I'll replant them and probably other plants there but for now I've just cleared away the mess.

I also removed a lot of the overgrown peppermint geranium (Pelargonium tomentosum), some of which had been trampled in the cleanup process.  There's more trampled peppermint geranium and Arthropodium cirratum (middle photo) to be tidied up.  I'm taking cuttings of the Pelargoniums and trusting that the Arthropodium (Renga lilies) will recover in time.  The Pacific Coast Iris (left) in the back garden also suffered foot traffic but I plan to remove much of the rampant ivy and divide the Iris anyway.

 

Unfortunately, there was more significant damage in another area, where I'd previously had no problems worthy of note.

Going back to the north end of the front garden, here's another photo of the before and after of the Agonis and the Arbutus in that corner, taken from inside the hedge.  Do you notice the difference between the Agave attenuata situated between the trees in the 2 photos?

Here are before and after photos of the large clump of Agave attenuata (foxtail agave) that came with the garden.  This clump has been the source of a dozen or more pups I've planted elsewhere in the garden over the years.

A closer look at the foliage makes the degree of damage clearer.  Only the Agave attenuata and and Agave colorata (right) were affected.  In prior years, the tree crew put a planks of plywood on top of saw horses to provide cover for the succulents while they pruned the tree above.  My guess is that they used a tarp instead because the Agave attenuata were too tall for the old method to work.  The tarp was sitting next to the bed when I walked by the first time.  The damage was already clear.

At first glance, I thought the Agave attenuata had experienced sunburn but it was hard to believe that so much damage could occur in such a short time.  Yes, the succulents are now getting more sun but the change wasn't dramatic enough to account for damage that severe.  Moreover, only the agaves were affected.  When I looked at it again, I remembered an old blog post by Loree Bohl of Danger Garden that described very similar damage.  I couldn't remember the label pinned to the cause but I posted photos on Instagram hoping for input.  I also conducted an online search and found Loree's 2016 post describing "agave edema," which you can find here.  At about the same time, Loree commented on my Instagram post, affirming that her agaves and mine had suffered from the same problem.  I found Loree's original 2010 post later.  While there's some question about using the term "agave edema" to describe the phenomenon, the description Loree provided in that post seems to be spot on:

Edema occurs when the roots of the plant are absorbing moisture from the soil but the leaves stomata are closed (due to the weather conditions and the plant being covered reducing photosynthesis) and the plant is unable to transpire at the normal rate.

With my husband's help, we removed the 6 largest and most damaged Agave attenuata rosettes in the original clump.  I took out 2 more rosettes that I'd planted as pups from the same clump several years ago, as well as the Agave colorata that had already been slated for removal.  A couple of the pups that had grown up under the larger rosettes show nominal damage but I can live with that as the blisters aren't glaring.

Lesson learned - the hard way.  I don't blame the tree service.  I doubt they've had experience with this particular problem.  I made the mistake of assuming all would be well as their prior efforts to protect my succulents had been successful.  I didn't realize that they'd modified their approach, in all probability to deal with the fact that the clump of Agave attentuata on the north end of the garden had grown so tall.  Luckily, the agaves on the southwest slope of the garden weren't covered by tarps and there was no damage there.  Luckier still, I already had a number of good-sized pups in place on the north end of the garden.  I'll definitely add my concerns about how the agaves are protected when discussing future tree trimming sessions.

All material © 2012-2023 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

Let's visit the back slope!

In the spirit of the "Coronavirus Tourism" posters created by Jennifer Baer, I'm providing another virtual tour of my garden, this time focused on my often-neglected and very steep back slope.  (You can view my prior tour of my lath house here.)

Despite its size, my back slope, situated on the eastern side of our half-acre lot, is easy to ignore.  When in our back garden, your eye stops at the Xylosma congestum hedge that runs the entire length of the back border.  On the other side, the property drops down dramatically and nothing planted there shows above the top of the hedge.  In fact, until the day of our final inspection prior to closing our purchase of the property, I didn't even realize it was there.

So let's pay a visit, shall we?  We access the back slope through the dry garden on the north side of the house.

From this angle, the gravel path I added after we moved in appears to end at the fence marking the property line between us and our neighbor on the north side

But, if you proceed as far as the grape arbor support my husband built, you can see signs that the path continues to the right

Rounding that corner, marked by a decaying tree trunk and a friendly Green Man, you see the first of the concrete blocks my husband installed as a stairway a year or so after we moved in

There was a slippery dirt path here when we moved in and, after I'd repeatedly fallen on my back side traversing it,  my husband laboriously dug these 50lb concrete blocks into the slope, working around numerous large rocks that studded the area.  I should mention that our entire neighborhood was the site of a large rock quarry in the 1940s.

Once we pass the hedge's northernmost edge, the back slope opens up to full view.

This area is bordered by the Xylosma hedge on the upper level (right) and a bay laurel on the lower level (left).  Our neighbor has a vegetable garden on the other side of that bay hedge, bordered on her side by a chain link fence.  When clouds aren't in the way you can see the harbor beyond those tall pine trees.

Those concrete blocks my husband installed are more widely spaced than they look and, without handrails, the trip to the bottom is usually made relatively quickly watching your feet as you go, without much attention to the plants on either side.

The stairway turns and ends with 4 more narrowly spaced concrete blocks

Once you turn the corner shown in the last photo, you reach a relatively flat area.  Here's what you might notice first:

A humongous crossvine (Bignonia capreolata), with a mammoth trunk, sits against the neighbor's chain link fence on our side of the property line.  My understanding is that the neighbor planted the vine decades ago when the property line was less well-defined.  The vine is trained along her fence but spills over in all directions, including the ivy-covered area belonging to our neighbor on the south side..  The vine is pretty but almost unmanageable in our climate, as I learned in my former garden.  I'd take it out except that this would impact my neighbors on both sides.

This is a view of our south property line looking in the other direction.  The wine barrels you see belong to the neighbors on our south side.  There was a huge Yucca elephantipes here when we moved in, which my husband lobbied to remove because it was also completely out of control.  We installed 3 Pittosporum tenuifolium 'Silver Magic' here to provide some of the privacy lost when the Yucca was removed.  There's a Ceanothus arboreum here too, which will eventually become a small tree.

I transplanted a few Centranthus ruber seedlings here years ago and they've gone crazy.  I tried sowing wildflower seeds here too but rampant alyssum (Lobularia maritima) choked most of those out.

Of course, we can't ignore the lemon tree planted here as it's the areas's dominant feature.  It's been so much happier since the Yucca came out.  It produces lemons year-round except when a severe heatwave hits and knocks it out of commission for several months.

On closer examination, you might notice a few other things.

Calla lilies (Zantedeschia aethiopica) appear every spring following our winter rainy season.  They disappear when summer's heat hits.  After last week's early heatwave, most of those you see in this photo are now gone.

A purple Osteospermum (left) has planted itself down here.  I foolishly planted the Matilija poppy (Romneya coulteri, right), which grows too big for the area.  I'd planned to take it out this past winter and somehow never got around to it.  I'll take it out after it finishes blooming this season.

A week ago, too late to take constructive action to stem its impact, I discovered that the peach tree planted at the edge of the slope had been severely impacted by peach curl disease.  It looks hideous at the moment.

I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do about the peach tree.  It was planted by a prior owner and, while it often sets a little fruit, that fruit never has never survived long enough to ripen.  It may not help that it's irrigated by a gray-water system fed by our washing machine waste.  I could thin it's twiggy growth and spray it thoroughly in the fall in an effort to stop the fungal disease that causes the foliage to blister and curl but cleaning up the area below the tree, which is covered in a thicket of ivy, would be harder to accomplish, much less maintain.  I may end up taking it out entirely but I'll probably give spraying a try to see if it makes any significant difference first.

But let's forget about the ugly peach tree and focus on the more attractive features of the back slope.

The back slope is at its most colorful in spring

Moving to the other side of the lemon tree at the base of the lower tier of concrete steps, here's what we see:

I planted the foxtail agaves (Agave attentuata) here several years ago from pups taken from another plant in my front garden.  I added various Aeoniums at intervals since.  I moved the bearded Iris down here from other areas and, to my complete surprise, they've done better here than anywhere else in my garden.

This unknown dwarf Iris may be 'Darth Vader'.  It's wonderfully fragrant.

If you look up from this spot, above the Xylosma hedge you can see the mimosa tree (Albizia julibrissin, left), just beginning to leaf out now.  Shifting your eyes to the right, you can see 2 Arbutus 'Marina' in the upper level of the garden.

But let's take a look at the plants on either side of the concrete block stairway as we proceed more slowly back up the way we came.

Going up these stairs carrying anything heavy isn't fun and I almost always take the trip up slowly

The steep upper area on your left is covered with a dense layer of ivy and honeysuckle, punctuated by weeds.  I pull out what I can but, as you can see in the photo on the lower left, there's a patch of grass weeds I haven't managed to tackle along the southern property line.  Geranium incanum (lower right) is also a weed here.

But looking to right of the concrete stairway, we see a lovely Echium webbii I planted a couple of years ago.  In bloom now, it's a magnet for bees and butterflies.

I planted Euphorbia 'Dean's Hybrid' (left) and Pelargonium 'White Lady' (right) down here years ago and both move themselves around the area willy-nilly

The pink evening primrose (Oenothera speciosa) planted itself here after I cleared the area of the weeds that formerly covered this part of the slope

I planted seedlings of Centranthus ruber here too and it continues to spread on its own

Lampranthus 'Pink Kaboom' (left) is fading while gray Santolina chamaecyparissus (right) is just getting ready to bloom

Artichokes have done exceptionally well on this dry slope.  There are 2 varieties growing here but I can't name either.

The prior owner we bought the house from put a fig tree in here.  It wasn't pruned well at the outset and my attempts to manage it since haven't improved things much.  The small amount of fruit it produces each year is snatched by critters before it ever ripens.

A dozen more steps beyond the fig and artichokes, we arrive back at the main level of the back garden.

Eventually I hope the centerpiece of this area will be the Callistemon viridiflorus you see in the middle of this shot.  I looked for this plant locally for years without success.  In October 2018, Tamara of Chickadee Gardens in Oregon sent me a one-gallon plant.  It's still small but it's just produced its first bloom and I'm thrilled.

Thank you Tamara!!!

So that's the back slope.  It offers opportunities that I find simultaneously tantalizing and daunting.  Terracing the upper level of the slope has been a dream of mine but access to the back area with heavy equipment is virtually impossible.  I've tried clearing small sections of the ivy and honeysuckle myself, working from the concrete block path but, given how steep it is, all I've managed to do is to crawl up on hands and knees 4-5 feet from its edge.  And the ivy and honeysuckle comes back quickly so the results of my efforts in one area are mostly erased by the time I clear the next small section.  Working down there during the hot summer months can be unpleasant too.  And then there are the fire ants, which I've run into on three occasions now...Thus far, I've decided to focus on the upper, more visible areas of my garden.

I hope you enjoyed today's tour.  Best wishes navigating the impacts of the coronavirus pandemic in your own backyard!  Take care.


All material © 2012-2020 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

September Favorites

I'm once again joining Loree of danger garden in identifying the plants that earned my favor this month.  The exercise, which has me making the rounds of my garden to see what's doing well, is always useful in providing perspective.  This time, it also led to the discovery that my adversaries, the raccoons, had made their own extensive examination of my garden, in the process of which, among other things, I discovered that they'd dug up some of the bulbs I'd planted only days ago.  But they also left me empty snail shells here and there so I'm trying to see the yin and the yang of my relationship with them.  Everything's been tidied up again and, hopefully, they'll employ their skills elsewhere for a time and give me a break.

On to this month's favorites!

I've presented the large mass of Acacia cognata 'Cousin Itt' that grows under the peppermint willow in my back border on other occasions but this time I'm sharing the 'Cousin Itt' growing elsewhere in my garden.  All took their time to beef up but I think I can now say they've reached a mature size.  The plant on the left, which sits underneath the Leucadendron 'Pisa' outside my home office window, is almost too enthusiastic and I fear it may someday swallow the plants surrounding it.  The plants in the middle and right-hand photos sit on opposite sides of a flagstone path that extends through the front garden.  If you look closely at the middle photo, you can see an exposed branch, which we were able to attribute to breakage resulting from a battle between 2 of my raccoon friends after viewing video from our security cameras.

As I've recently spent considerable time working on the succulent bed in front of our garage (described here), I'd plenty of time to admire the large, multi-trunked Agave attenuata I inherited with the garden.  Not only is it a beautiful specimen of its species, it's also the source of many of the pups I've cut and relocated to other parts of the garden.  As the photo on the right shows, there are more good sized pups available now, which I may soon move elsewhere.

I planted the 3 Cuphea 'Vermillionaire' pictured here just over a year ago.  They also took their time bulking up but, despite the hot, dry summer, they've finally taken off.  This is the first of the orange-flowered Cupheas I've tried that's done well.

Erigeron glaucus 'Wayne Roderick' wins a spot on this month's list just because it's so darn pretty.  It blooms intermittently throughout the year.

I featured Gaura lindheimeri as a favorite sometime this past spring but, as it sprung back this month after a severe haircut in June, it deserves another mention.  Its flowers are among the most noticeable in my front garden at the moment.  In the late afternoon, the flowers tend to look sad but every morning the plants shine once more.

Leonotis leonurus is another plant that I cut back in June only to have it bounce back with a new flush of flowers in September.  The taller of the 2 plants shown here was inherited with the garden but it never before looked as good as it does this year.  I don't know if I can credit the hard pruning I gave it last year for its revival or our heavier-than-usual winter rains but I'm pleased by its rebirth (especially as I'd been close to digging it up and tossing it out).  The shorter plant was added last fall.

I featured Pennisetum advena 'Rubrum' last month and warned that the plant would probably be even better looking in September.  It is so I'm showing it again.  There are 4 of these plants spaced at intervals along the moderate slope facing the street in the front garden.  You can see 2 in this photo.

Plectranthus ciliatus 'Zulu Wonder' is just now coming into bloom.  While I grow the plant mainly for its quilted green leaves with purplish undersides, I love the graceful flowers too.  The mass planted by the back door grew from cuttings I brought from my former garden.  Although I've planted cuttings elsewhere, this is the only spot in which it's done really well; however, I'm trying it once again in a shady spot in the front garden. 

Pseuderanthemum 'Texas Tri-star' always looks its best at this time of year.  I think it responds to the increased humidity we often get in late August and September as a by-product of the monsoonal rains in the desert areas to the east.  The plants do bloom but the flowers aren't nearly as colorful as the variegated foliage.

Salvia elegans, commonly known as pineapple sage, produced only a smattering of flowers all through the summer months but now it's finally blooming heavily.  I wonder if that's because I left the hose running there too long a couple of weeks ago?  In any case, both the bees and the hummingbirds love it.

Trichostema 'Midnight Magic' is a hybrid form of our native wooly blue curls.  The latter is an extremely finicky plant that I've killed twice.  This one is much more at home in a garden setting.  It flowers sporadically.

The 3 clumps of Zephyranthes candida (aka rain lilies) I planted years ago surprised me by blooming earlier this month without any rain.  Since then we've received light rain twice (tallying a whopping 0.15/inch) and the rain lilies have just kept producing new flowers.  Despite the common name linking their flowering to rainfall, it seems more likely that flowering is triggered by seasonal weather or light shifts as a review of old blog posts indicates they also bloomed in September last year.

That's it for this month's favorites.  Visit Loree at danger garden to find her picks.  And, if you'd like to see what's looking good across the pond right now, visit Chloris at The Blooming Garden.


All material © 2012-2017 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party