Earlier this month I took another hike around our property, camera in hand, to see what was in flower.

The chollas took much of my attention, as these brilliant pink blooms are always hard to ignore. The yellow-flowered ones hadn’t opened yet, but the pinks and vermilions were brilliant.

I believe all of these are one or another subspecies of Cylindropuntia imbricata. To be honest, cholla identification has me overwhelmed, so I am guessing at these names, at best. There may be as many as five or six different Cylindropuntia species and subspecies on our two acres alone.

I know that many people would find this difficult to understand, but I am frankly fascinated by these plants. They do take some careful proximity, thanks to those highly effective spines (reverse barbed, apparently) and their capacity to detach and stick to passers-by. But they have their place in the local ecosystem, and many animals and birds find good shelter among their roots and branches.

Besides, they are spectacular in bloom.

But it isn’t all about chollas.

At the same time, the soft, brownish-golden catkins of mesquite (Prosopis velutina) are still blooming in much quieter hues.

.The palo verde trees (Parkinsonia microphylla) have flowered for weeks now. The bees approve mightily.

And while the catclaw acacias (Senegalia greggii) have mostly faded, the whitethorn acacias (Vachellia constricta) have hung out their fabulous little golden spheres. (These were formerly Acacia greggii and A. constricta, respectively.) To my nose, the whitethorn blooms are the most intensely fragrant of our local thornscrub trees. With their scent added to the rest, the air smells rather like a posh perfume counter from my younger years.

Whitethorn is not nearly as floriferous as its catclaw cousin. It blooms later and more sparsely. However, it is also more of an opportunist, with the capacity to set summer bloom unexpectedly during a strong monsoon season. Whenever they arrive, these flowers are always welcome.

And now down to the smallest of wildflowers. There was plenty of chia (Salvia columbariae) flowering in the wash this spring.

It is now setting seed.

Chollas were not the only species of cactus in bloom.

I also enjoyed watching this butterfly on an as-yet unidentified wildflower of the yellow daisy type.

I hope you’ve enjoyed walking around my small patch of blooming desert!

It’s a new week, so it is time for another In a Vase of Monday with Cathy at Rambling in the Garden! I have a very herbal vase this time, which feels appropriate for the warming weather.

Many Mediterranean plants grow quite well here. This fact further encourages my love of growing these sun-country herbs that thrive in dry, rocky soils while withstanding the depredations of rabbits. Not least among these are lavenders, thyme, and oregano.

Oregano will flower later in the year; but at present I have plenty of lavender in bloom, mostly Lavandula dentata, along with the darker-flowered L x “Goodwin Creek Grey”.

Both of these are combined with some long, wispy stems of thyme. Sadly I seem to have lost my lemon thyme (Thymus x citriodora), but this is the best stand of Thymus vulgaris I’ve ever grown. Hopefully it will continue to grow well and supply both vases and kitchen.

I love thyme’s tiny, pale flowers.

And then there is the South American native, tree tobacco (Nicotiana glauca). There were a few plants in place when we moved in. Initially I worried they would prove to be invasives here as they are in so many other places, but the word from the Spadefoot Nursery website (which I often rely on for such information) is that they are not a problem in this region. And certainly they seem to set quite a bit of seed without producing many seedlings to grow on.

The main plant grows in the shade at the north corner of the house. It is very nearly the height of a small tree at this point. I cut a stem with a few of its pretty yellow flowers and buds for the vase. And of course its large leaves are a special addition as well.

I used my hand-thrown stoneware vase to hold this fairly simple combination.

Do check the other posts linked to Cathy’s for more Monday vases, most of them a good deal more spring-like than mine. Conditions are inching toward early summer here.

The native thornscrub is still flowering heavily, though beginning to look a little tousled after all the blooming, the winds, and the bee activity. But it’s been a beautiful, bright yellow month across the foothills.

Happy Monday!

P.S. If you are interested in poetry from this corner of the world, here is a link to my recent collection Where the Sun Sings on Lulu.com

Where the Sun Sings

As we reach the middle of April, the weather has shifted closer to its usual patterns and temperatures. The heatwave has ended, giving us pleasantly cool days (by desert standards) and nights with a bit of actual chill to them. What the second half of the month will bring to the garden I really don’t know.

But at present the native Sonoran thornscrub is a wealth of bloom. Since some of these trees and shrubs are part of the garden, they certainly must feature in an April version of “Five Favorites” with Cathy at Words and Herbs.

My first favorite for this April is the pale yellow and white blooming of the littleleaf palo verde trees, Parkinsonia microphylla. I don’t think I have ever seen them bloom so heavily. The rains we received in late winter must have done their work well, along with the early warmth.

Imagine a small tree with thousands of these delicate flowers hovering above green-barked stems. This is the magic of Parkinsonia microphylla in bloom.

There are two small thickets of mixed thornscrub growing against the rickety fencing that currently forms the official edges of the garden, clusters of little trees and large shrubs. Probably half are palo verdes. The hum of the bees in all these flowers carries across the garden.

In the garden’s center grows a large mesquite, Prosopis velutina. Its flowers are quieter in color: a soft golden-brown.

Thirdly there is the ocotillo, Fouquieria splendens. The clump in the garden is finally growing out, which makes me very happy. It had been hacked back before we moved in. Although individual canes can safely be removed at ground level, ocotillo is not made to be pruned! It carries its flaming scarlet blooms only at the tips of the long canes. It took these plants several years to regrow their blooming tips.

It’s a special time of year when these vibrant vermilion spires glow across the desert at heights of ten to thirty feet. These in the garden are at least higher than my head now, and growing well. That color is always breathtaking.

My fourth pick for April is a lavender. Lavandula x “Goodwin Creek Grey” has finally settled in and has just begun to flower. Its deep, midnight purple blooms stand out against the very soft, very pale gray foliage.

I love this variety; and former experience tells me that hummingbirds and butterflies do also, so it is an important addition to the garden. When happy, it can flower nearly year-round, taking a break only during the hottest and coldest weeks.

And finally, of course, a rose.

It’s a struggle growing roses here. I have had my losses to weather, deer, and rabbits elsewhere; but this garden takes the attempt to a new level of difficulty, adding a very coarse, rapidly draining soil, salty well water, and a new pest, leaf-cutter ants. Let’s just say that I am exceedingly grateful to have any roses that continue to live and even to bloom!

But the lovely “Nastarana” has put out a big cluster of its semi-double, soft white flowers. Very special!

And to end this post, here is a special mention for a very unexpected April flowering. The so-called Barometer Bush, Leucophyllum frutescens “Green Cloud”, decided that the temperatures and humidity were both high enough to bring out a happy showing of its pink-purple trumpets with their spotted throats.

Happy April!

I’m joining in with Cathy for In a Vase on Monday, and here is a vase I have been hoping to make, waiting for the right blooms to be open at the right times.

.This finally happened Sunday, and just in the nick of time, as purprle iris “Sheriffa” had to be rescued from strong winds…

…while iris “Gold of Ophir” had to be coaxed out from under the overbearing presence of the mesquite tree (Prosopis velutina).

I combined these with the dark purple of Lavandula “Goodwin Creek Gray” and the yellows of brittlebrush (Encelia farinosa). This may well be the last cutting of brittlebrush blooms till next winter, as most of the plants look as though they are already going into dormancy for the drier, hotter months.

I’m delighted to bring “Gold of Ophir” inside, as I feel that in the garden I’ve never quite been able to fully appreciate the soft translucence and the satin sheen of its petals, rather like a heavy silk charmeuse.

“Sheriffa” is spectacular in the garden as well as the vase, and it is planted in a spot that is easy to view. But it also bears a closer look for all its exquisite colors and patterns, especially the splendid, metallic blue wash over the purple—an effect difficult to capture fully with the camera.

The other thing I cannot post is, of course, the fragrance from both irises.

The weather has been so odd here, that I have no idea whether any more irises will flower now. Bringing these two indoors is a special treat, whether they prove to be a lovely interlude or a grand finale to iris season. A very good reason to cut flowers and enjoy them inside, as Cathy encourages us to do!

Happy Monday!

It is a season of wildflowers and bees.

The other day my sister and I went on an exploratory wander through the wash on our two acres. We went cameras in hand, so here are some of the wild blooms I photographed.

Arguably the star of the show was the brilliant pink of this enormous cactus flower. (I wish I knew the botanical name, but I ‘m not certain of it.)

If the stamens look a little tousled in this picture, there is a reason…

We were not the only ones appreciating its flamboyance and abundance. This native bee was tumbling all around in the pollen.

Not far away, in dappled shade, several wild plants of Nicotiana obtusa were flowering. I am oddly enthusiastic about this unassuming desert perennial. It clumps up more like a classic border perennial than most desert natives will do, making good basal foliage topped by longer flowering stems. Its rough foliage—not really visible in this photo—stays green through the summer if it is growing in shade, and its blooms are a greenish white; both facts give it a visual cooling effect during the hot months. As well, it tends to flower opportunistically at any time of the year when it finds conditions to its liking.

So that is a fair list of reasons I would like more desert tobacco in my garden. You may add to these the fact that it transplants fairly well, which is often not true of desert plants. And of course, being a Nicotiana, it is toxic and therefore generally left alone by insects and mammalian munchers. Here at least, it self-seeds freely but so far not problematically.

Having said all this, I’m afraid my photo of a flowering stem doesn’t communicate its desirablility very much!

In the same general area someone seems to have discarded an old gate post long ago. The wood and the hardware alike show the effects of years of intense sun, even in this relatively shady spot.

I managed to get a couple of pictures of the unknown blue wildflower I added to a recent vase.

This is almost the entire plant—just a wispy stem with a few narrow leaves and a cluster or three of flowers. Sometimes it surprises me by growing from a mound of foliage, but on closer inspection this always proves to be foliage from some other plant, dogweed (Dyssodia papposa) or thimblehead (Hymenothrix wislizeni) or such.

And of course, this post would not be complete without the furry clusters of cactclaw acacia (Senegalia greggii).

They are blooming heavily now. Their scent is one that drifts on the breeze, no doubt beckoning the bees, who are eagerly working all through the many, many blooms. (Yes, there is a bee tail in this photo.)

Being a legume, the pods provide fodder for many wild creatures during the summer, so the bees’ work is quite important.

I have had to leave out a good many other plants now in flower—mesquite, ocotillo, the last blooms from Mexican poppies (Eschscholzia californica ssp mexicana) and fairyduster (Calliandra eriophylla), and the first flowers on prickly pears and chollas (Opuntia and Cylindropuntia sp). But it was a long wander among wildflowers even without those. Thank you for joining my walk!

Once again I am joining Cathy for In a Vase on Monday.

My original plan for today’s vase was to cut some full aloe stems and make something large but simple. The aloes have been flowering for weeks and are only just beginning to fade.

But then I stepped out to see the first open bloom on rose “Paradise”, and of course my intentions went the way of the wind.

So this resulting vase is smaller but has more variety than I had planned. It contains rose “Paradise”, smaller sprigs of aloe blooms, Lavandula dentata, L. x “Goodwin Creek Gray”, and some stalks of Penstemon parryii, full of seed pods. These are setting so many seeds that I thought they could spare a few.

I could also have made a yellow bouquet with a stem of iris “Deep Buttercup” and more flowers from the ever-faithful Encelia farinosa. I decided to leave the iris stem in the garden, however, as it will continue to bring more color there with new buds still forming.

And I do wish I could bring in some of the scented branches of mesquite and acacia (Prosopis velutina and Senegalia greggii), which are now masses of bloom and bees. But they will fold and drop their leaves, flowers will wilt, and the bees had best stay outdoors! Here is a photo, though, of Senegalia greggii, the catclaw acacia, also known as the wait-a-moment bush.

So that is Monday here in southeastern Arizona. The weather is still unseasonably warm, but milder than it was, and the plants are rising to the occasion, speeding up growth and flowering, not to mention setting seeds.

Wishing you all a happy new week!

I am posting this very after-the-fact, but I wanted to go ahead and share the beauty of iris “Pixie Power”. After all, it managed a swift and spectacular display in the brief window between what I suppose was mid-spring and the sudden onset of summer weather in late March.

How it did it I don’t know, but one large clump sent up a swirl of bloom stalks, which all opened together in a glorious burst of blue.

A few days later, there was not a single bloom that had not folded and browned, but the foliage still looks healthy. I’ve already removed the bloom stalks to let the roots and leaves focus on simply surviving whatever the weather will send our way. No need to set seeds—this year unusually so!

Pixie Power is a standard dwarf bearded iris, whose small size means that it normally flowers well in advance of my tall beardeds. At this point I don’t know what to expect from the latter this year, but I find irises are incredibly resilient and often astonishing plants, and overall they have grown well in this garden.

In fact, I wasn’t even sure whether Pixie Power would flower at all this spring, given the very mild winter we had. I was worried it would need a few freezing nights at least. But apparently not!

I am one of those gardeners who feels there can never be too much blue in my garden.

During the same brief window of full spring, the mandarin orange by the kitchen also put out a mass of bloom, also now finished. At least it is fairly easy to keep it happy and watered. The bees did their part toward next winter’s crop.

Although the citrus and iris flowers are over, the bees continue to have plenty of sources for nectar and pollen because now the little native trees have begun to bloom. Velvet mesquite (Prosopis velutina), catclaw acacia (Senegalia greggii), and littleleaf palo verde (Parkinsonia microphylla) are all stepping into the great task of keeping the desert alive.

They have just begun to flower, and I have no photos yet. But here is a last shimmer of blue from Pixie Power.

Today’s post is my first In a Vase on Monday post in a long, long time. I’m having to keep it small and brief, partly in keeping with my new, hopefully sustainable blogging plans, and partly because of our recent weather.

After an early and gorgeous round of spring, we have moved into what seems to be full summer… only two or three months early! Temperatures have moderated somewhat; it is only 96 F/ 35.5 C today. If that comment sounds wry? It is. We saw recent highs of 103 F/39 C before the official end of winter, let alone spring. This is not normal; even the desert has its seasons and natural transitions, and this is far outside those. And I know that this weather anomaly stretches clear across the southwestern US.

So I had none of the recent, wonderful penstemons or globemallow blooms to pick today. They have all gone to seed. Iris “Pixie Power” which, being a dwarf, blooms early, has come and gone in a flash, as did my first-ever showing from iris “Southland”. All the larger irises are waiting wisely.

What I do have are a small cluster of first roses from Nastarana, along with late yellow daisies from Encelia farinosa, a reliable winter and spring bloomer here.

The scarcely visible gray foliage comes from an Eremophila maculata variety of forgotten name. And at the back of the vase are minuscule blooms of soft blue, courtesy of a wildflower I have not yet managed to identify. It loves to pop out during these hot days just as the last moisture is disappearing from the soil. The entire plant is very small and very wispy, just a waif of a little desert annual. On high, open ground, I have to watch carefully to avoid stepping on it.

In other news I have just published a poetry collection Where the Sun Sings, a small book full of the sunlight (and moonlight), the plants and wild creatures I’ve found around me here. It is available on Lulu.com, which now prints books on both sides of the Atlantic, making (I hope) for faster shipping, wherever the reader might be.

Where the Sun Sings

Many many thanks to Cathy at Rambling in the Garden for keeping IaVoM going so faithfully. I’m thrilled I can at last get back into creating Monday vases!

Happy Monday to all!

One of the highlights of spring here is the sudden appearance of the soft orange blooms of globemallow. Sphaeralcea ambigua is known as a desert wildflower that can readily transition to garden use in xeric, native plantings. Cultivars in pink, red, and white have been developed as well, adding to its range of possibilities for the gardener.

So of course I was excited to find Sphaeralcea growing wild on our two acres, bringing a welcome burst of its more usual orange color dotted down the side of the little canyon below our house. However, this is not Sphaeralcea ambigua, but S. laxa, a species adapted to more alkaline soils high in calcium carbonate, leading to its common name of Caliche Globemallow.

S. laxa is a smaller, wispier plant than its better-known cousin. Its leaves are a deep gray-green. Both they and the flower petals exhibit a gentle ruffling. The dark maroon stamens are apparently one key to identification.

Though I’ve tried various ways and locations to introduce it into the garden, it seems shy of simply growing as a border plant. But left to seed itself gently around acccording to its own preferences, it has increased slowly. And this year I have the largest showing yet. A cluster of plants has appeared on each side of one fence line; a little orange face has just emerged from between the outer branches of Calliandra eriophylla, and I am keeping my eyes out for more. With its shy ways, I am certain it will never overwhelm the garden, and I could use a lot more of these gentle little plants, which seem to blend beautifully with everything.

In other news, the first rose blooms have opened. The delectably fragrant, semi-double white “Nastarana” has led the way. Mind you, I haven’t gotten to smell or photograph it yet as the two initial flowers are buried beneath a protective cage of poultry wire. But some more adventurous shoots have emerged beyond the wire, and they are full of buds. Hopefully the rabbits will spare them!

I leave you with one more sprig of Sphaeralcea laxa… Happy Monday!

I do adore Penstemon parryi, the wild desert species that grows along the roadside ditches here and, thankfully, also in my garden now. I am not alone in my delight. The Anna’s hummingbirds, hawkmoths, and now swallowtail butterflies have been very enthusiastic.

I planted Penstemon seeds several years ago… and nothing happened. Actually that proved to be not quite true. The rain and soil moved the seeds, and a few eventually sprouted just where they well pleased a year or two later. I transplanted this one but left another (top photo) in its chosen spot at the roots of a cluster of well-established ocotillos (Fouqueiria splendens). I am learning to respect the decisions of native desert plants!

They are now doing just as I hoped: bulking up nicely and feeding everything that loves nectar, as well as being a delight every time I peek out the back window.

They have found their way into poetry as well, where perhaps it’s a little easier to express all the fluttering, flickering movement.. I happened to be looking down at the foliage when I noticed the shadows…

Flickering shadows
across gray penstemon leaves
mirror the brilliance
above them the sable wings
quiver among carmine blooms.

I could not resist adding this somewhat blurry photo as well for the sheer exuberance.

As most old friends of this blog will know, I have not posted in a very long time, and it has been even longer since I posted regularly. This has not been for lack of wishing to continue, but rather because of health issues. These have, sadly, also affected my activity with the garden, such as it is.

I think it’s a little beside the point (and would mostly likely be unutterably boring) for me to try to explain here my various difficulties and theories. Suffice to say that while I’ve been diagnosed with chronic migraines, I’ve been unable to successfully communicate with doctors about the rest of my symptoms, nor about my concern that there is something more basic that is actually causing the migraines, etc.

At any rate, what it means in practical terms is that I am coping with constant, intense fatigue, both physical and mental, as well as frequent pain. Most of what I manage to do is done sitting up in bed, which is not, alas, a very practical way to garden. I am learning (or trying to learn) to work more closely with nature and the natural rhythms of soil and weather here. These are much more volatile than they were in my garden near Phoenix; no doubt this is because of the effects of the river valley and the surrounding mountains.

Not being able to care “properly” for my plants has meant quite a few losses. But the other side of it are these enormous spires of Penstemon parryi and their joyous visitors. A garden can’t be all wrong when it is helping to raise baby hummingbirds!

I have (as one does) done a lot of research online to try to find answers and solutions to my health dilemma. I’ve found the information and advice for myalgic encephalomyelitis to be quite helpful, though I certainly would not want to be adamant about a self-diagnosis! But it does seem to help when I follow the recommendations for cutting back and pacing my energy usage very, very carefully. And with that advice, I am hoping to be able to reclaim a little bit of my garden and photography energy.

Posts may be a good deal shorter than they used to be. There may be far fewer photos. But perhaps after all I can begin again to share the joy and presence of growing things. Only time will tell.

For those who have made it all the way through this rather somber explanation, thank you, and I leave you with one more glimpse of a butterfly on Penstemon parryi.

The iris season is drawing to a close.

This week I’m enjoying my first-ever blooms on “Black Wings”.

And, probably the very last to bloom, the reliably late-flowering “Mary Geddes” has opened as well. This was a pleasant surprise, as she is distinctly overcrowded, having needed to be divided last year. Now I’ll be waiting until weather cools sometime in October.

Meantime I’ll enjoy any blooms I get from her, as Mary is a favorite of mine.

There have been roses scattered around the garden for weeks now. This week it’s the turn of the noID miniature rose by the back patio.

I wish I could add Nastarana here, but it is difficult to get pictures of it because I have so thoroughly encased it in chicken wire. It is, however, blooming beautifully, and has been for at least a couple of weeks.

In this garden, one of the best annual-to-short-lived perennial companions for the roses is dianthus.

And then there are the bees.

Bees are busy in the wild catclaw acacia (Senegalia greggii) which leans over the fence on one side of the garden.

And they are frenetically busy in the Opuntia blooms on the other side of the garden. This particular prickly pear has been trying to come on into the garden, pad by pad; but it is not as welcome as the catclaw, as it doesn’t provide any shade.

Still, anything that makes the bees so very happy has its place, I suppose. Can you see the bits of pollen they were kicking up?

Rowdy. I’m not sure how much pollen actually got collected. But the garden is indeed buzzing!

Thanks to Jim at Garden Ruminations for hosting Six on Saturday!

Here is an evening version of “In a Vase on Monday”, that perennial favorite of many of us gardening bloggers. It is faithfully hosted by Cathy over at Rambling in the Garden.

Today’s vase almost didn’t happen. I’ve been too sick the last few days to do much of anything, but the white clusters of rose “Nastarana” have been beckoning this whole time. This afternoon I rallied enough to cut some, then a brief search led me to add a few unknown wild sprigs and three stems of Salvia microphylla “Hot Lips”.

Nastarana is a rose I’ve wanted to try for a long time. It is said to be one of the most fragrant of roses. My specimen is still less than knee-high; and its scent isn’t fully developed yet, it seems, though an initial bloom was heavenly. Right now the main issue is keeping it safe from rabbits so that it can grow into its full glory.

Despite its still-small size, it has covered itself with bloom.

I used my copper-glazed stoneware, teardrop-shaped vase. Its small mouth accommodates the little handful of material I gathered.

As this is such a short post, I’ll add a couple of pictures I took the other day. The various wild cacti are coming into bloom now, including this lovely one with the deep magenta blooms. I think this is some species of Echinocereus; there are a number of them through the wash area on our property. They are exciting to see at any time, of course, but as you can tell, they are quite the showstoppers when in bloom.

Happy new week!

Weather Diary:

• High: 88 F/31 C, Low: 52 F/11 C

• precipitation: none

• Humidity: 9% - 31%

• UV Index: 10

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From irises to roses is traditionally a fine line from late spring into summer, but that line will likely always be rather blurry here. There has already been a good deal of overlap, with the first rosebuds appearing at about the same time as the first iris buds.

Fortunately, rabbits do not care much for irises. Need I say more?

But those days when spring melts into summer are still a very real thing here, and we seem to have nearly reached them. The summer solstice is still two months away, but the Sonoran Desert already has a foot fairly over the line into what can only be called summer.

The plants are changing. The annual spring grasses, whose tiny tufts form a most improbably lush green carpet in a wet spring, are drying up. The wild lupines are gone. The swathes of yellow California poppies are shrinking. Scorpionweed’s pale lavender has partially replaced the lupines, while globemallow still creates vibrant patches of orange along the roadsides. But the big burst of spring wildflowers is slowly giving way to the dry earths of summer. Slowly, because some of our rain came quite late in the season.

But above all, the heat is building. Today’s temperature reached 95 F/35 C in our little paradise northeast of Tucson.

And it is still a paradise… just a rather warm one!

And there were an iris and a rose to be picked for In a Vase on Monday.

To be precise, there was a rose, an iris, and a small clump of Salvia farinacea.

The rose is “Paradise”. The bush has been blooming profusely, but thrips have damaged the blooms, leaving me just this one to add to today’s vase. I wonder whether a bit more water would reduce their impact? Or is this wishful thinking!

The iris is “Deep Velvet”, an historic iris from 1939 with brilliantly purple flowers brightened with a warm-hued heart.

And Salvia farinacea has just begun to flower. It gets cut back by our winter frosts and takes its time returning to full growth.

It isn’t a large bouquet, so it went into my small stoneware bottle.

I’d hoped to strengthen the cool tones with iris “Frances Craig”, which has just begun to flower, but the buds are too close-set for cutting. Isn’t she lovely, though! I caught a few pictures as the sun was going down—must get some more tomorrow.

For most of my fellow IaVoM participants, the warmer weather and sun will mean more flowers, not less, but we are stepping over that line into the beginning of the lean season here. Still, I think the garden is much better positioned for it this year. There are yet more irises to flower, and just this afternoon I spotted the first bright red blooms on my newly planted Baja fairyduster (Calliandra californica).

Do check what other gardeners are putting in their vases at Rambling in the Garden. Cathy, for one, has lovely tulips for today, while I have to keep reminding myself that it is still April, after all.

Happy Monday!

Weather Diary: Clear and sunny, High: 95 F/35 C, Low: 57 F/14 C, Daytime UV: 10

The first flush of the tall bearded irises has begun. In fact, it looks as though I will have irises continually now until the season is fully over. (Cue the celebrations!)

The very first in bloom was “Indian Chief”, which you have seen in these pages before. As it always does, it is flowering abundantly this year, and, as always, it is so dramatically and effortlessly beautiful.

In fact, here is a shot I took during the latter part of the eclipse, when the light seemed to smolder out of the brilliant heart of the bloom.

I was actually surprised that Indian Chief was the first to flower because it looked as though that distinction would be claimed by “Conquistador”. However, Conquistador took several extra days in order to open, not one, but two flowers at once, promptly followed by a third. Splendid… but with the overhanging mesquite tree, I can only photograph one of the enormous blooms at a time, so can’t really show you the effect.

“Conquistador” was raised in 1921 by William Mohr, a very influential American hybridizer of early modern irises. The variety was the result of a cross between an an existing tall bearded iris, “Juniata”, and the species Iris mesopotamica. Because of this mesopotamica heritage, its hardiness was considered questionable across large swathes of the country, so it was quickly superseded by other varieties. Sadly, it is now so rare as to be listed as endangered by the Historic Iris Preservation Society.

Gardening in a mild-winter climate, I don’t have to worry about its hardiness, so I can enjoy its regal blue beauty to the full. It is enormous, both plant and bloom; and its cool blue-violet stands out across the garden.

The third iris in this post is also endangered, although it is a slightly more recent variety. This is “Sheriffa”, a lovely metallic, brown-brushed purple and blue iris.

Sheriffa is of a type known as an arilbred. Without going into too much detail, these are hybrids between the standard bearded irises and the so-called aril irises, a group of species from the dry regions of the Near East. Aril irises are notoriously temperamental garden subjects, and the hybrids are an attempt to combine their striking hues and patterns with the greater ease of cultivation belonging to their I. germanica kindred.

This unabashedly spectacular example was raised in 1941. The plant itself is quite tall; the growth so far is rather slender. The blooms are a masterpiece of brown brushed on purple veined on metallic blue with a small beard the color of a glowing ember.

Sheriffa does a lovely butterfly imitation. Here are two such pictures from today.

With the various irises coming into flower, each walk round the garden is more exciting than the last.

The garden is bursting with bloom now, with promise of even more flowers as the irises come into their own. I have half a dozen or so historic irises which are sending up bloom stalks for the first time this year, so I’ve been excitedly chattering to them as I walk round the garden. Fortunately they seem to be entirely happy about my eagerness.

However, it is the stalwart “Indian Chief” (Ayres 1929) that has once again been the first of the tall bearded irises to flower, and it was one of these blooms that inspired my choices for this week’s In a Vase on Monday.

The smoky pink-lavender and wine flowers are as beautiful as the plant is robust and floriferous.

There is still plenty of Aloe vera in flower so I added some bloom stalks to fill out the warm hues of the iris.

For greenery to fill the vase I cut some foliage from our mandarin orange tree. One of the stems has a few buds; the tree is just beginning to bloom also.

Lastly I decided that the smoky hues of the iris would blend well with some lavender, so Lavandula dentata (also in full flower right now) supplied quite a few stalks as well.

I needed something fairly large, so I used this stoneware vase with an iron-rich glaze—similar to, but not the same as—last week’s vase.

I then had quite a bit of trouble finding a good place to photograph everything because this particular vase is just a little too big to be propped on the rock I usually use. Instead I placed the bouquet in front of another rock on the north side of the little pond. There was enough shade there to allow for fair photography; after all, there is no shortage of rocks in this garden!

I certainly hope my readers are happy with seeing pictures of irises. There are likely to be quite a few in the near future.

Many thanks to Cathy for hosting this inspiring theme at Rambling in the Garden. Do check the other vases linked to her post!

Happy Monday!

The rain we’ve received has been more than mere showers. Over the last two days, it has varied between the odd sprinkle and the downright downpour. All very much appreciated by the garden, of course, and I’ve managed to stock back quite a bit of extra rainwater now.

The flowers for today’s vase were cut during one of the lighter sprinkles and then photographed during an odd burst of sunshine.

In the vase there is lots of Encelia farinosa, which is blooming madly right now, in the garden and out.

There are the quiet greens of Nicotiana obtusa, whose stiff stems supplied much of the framework for the bouquet.

Both are joined by the buoyant little blooms of Narcissus “Scarlet Gem”, staying more yellow than scarlet or even orange, but a delight nevertheless.

And there are two luxuriant blooms from rose “Safrano”, which thankfully were undamaged by the rain.

Safrano is an antique tea rose, raised in France in 1837. True to its class, its blooms have a strong tendency to nod on their stems, and these blooms are no exception, looking shyly out over the edge of the vase.

But there is plenty of exuberance to go around in any case.

This has been another fine spring for wildflowers, and both the brittlebrush (Encelia farinosa) and the desert tobacco (Nicotiana obtusa) were gathered from wild-growing plants inside and outside the garden proper.

The vase is one of my hand-thrown stoneware pieces. It makes me very happy to finally have enough flowers to fill it.

Many thanks to Cathy for hosting In a Vase on Monday at Rambling in the Garden each week. Do check the other participants to see what is filling vases in other gardens this first of April!

Happy Monday!

The Archduke has arrived at the garden party. Rose “Archduke Charles”, that is.

Its first flower of the year opened a couple of days ago, and with the cooler, rainy weather it was still in fine condition to bring indoors.

I had originally intended to feature the rose solo, in all its silk moire pink.

But it is quite short-stemmed so it gave the impression of a pompon sitting on top of a bottle. I began looking around for other blooms to join it. I decided against adding daffodil stems this time and opted instead for the gracious blue of dwarf bearded iris “Pixie Power”.

After which a few sprigs of Lavandula stoechas dropped in as well.

It feels odd to have so much to choose from today. It’s still quite a small bouquet in my tiny stoneware bud vase, but the individual blooms are not small.

The archduke and the pixie were photographed outside before coming in to be enjoyed on the dining table. I think they make a wonderful pair. I can only hope I have this much overlap of iris and rose season every year.

If you enjoy bouquets grown in the garden or foraged, please do check out the other Monday vases hosted by Cathy at Rambling in the Garden!

Happy Monday!

This week has seen an explosion of growth and bloom in the garden. The weather has been warm, and it seems that nearly everything is hurrying to catch up. So here is this week’s Six on Saturday, six things that serve as a snapshot of what the garden is doing at the moment.

Rosa “Paradise”

Although the buds are still small, the new growth on rose “Paradise” is a splash of color in itself. The bush responded to its late winter pruning with a lot of strong growth; there is not a green leaf on it, just a mass of new canes and spectacularly red foliage… and now buds.

Salvia greggii

Then there are the salvias. In my last Six on Saturday post (from two weeks ago) Salvia greggii was just beginning to show its bloom power. This week, in addition to the pale yellow of “Lemon Light”, there is also a deep purple—unnamed, but gorgeous. I might add that both these plants were put in just last year and are still fairly small.

Narcissus

The clumps of narcissus “Scarlet Gem” continue to delight both eye and nose.

And just two days ago narcissus “White Lady” opened her first flower.

Iris “Pixie Power”

The second stand of narcissus “Scarlet Gem” is forming a flowering clump with another arrival, the standard dwarf bearded iris “Pixie Power”. Please ignore the weedy grass behind them: it has been judiciously ignored in favor of weeding out the much more aggressive Bermuda grass elsewhere.

“Pixie Power” is the one plant that came along with me through multiple moves all the way from my earlier Phoenix-area garden. It is a tough plant with most magnificent blooms, low-growing and early-flowering.

Calliandra eriophylla

I missed my chance to photograph the largest Calliandra eriophylla bush at its pale pink zenith. It grows all on its own at the back of the garden area, in a patch that hosts wildflowers in a good spring and weeds in others. It deserves—and hopefully will soon have—a better setting than its current fiddlehead companions. But after all, it established itself as a native wilding years before I came here.

As I photographed it, I found it had a visitor—one of the earliest butterflies was enjoying its blooms.

Encelia farinosa

Last is another volunteer—this one is the yellow-flowered Encelia farinosa that sprouted in a very narrow patch between the concrete patio paving and the rocks that make the edge of the little pond. I would never have planted it there for the simple reason that I wouldn’t have known that such a large, woody perennial as Encelia could grow so well in such a cramped space. But it is certainly robust and floriferous and seems quite comfortable.

There are my six for a late March Six on Saturday. Check out the other participants at Garden Ruminations to see what a variety of gardeners are noticing this week.

The weather is heating up here, too much and too quickly this year. This summer may be brutal. But at present the warmth is luscious and the brilliantly clear blue skies are the stuff of dreams. We’re expecting a cool-down over the weekend, with a slight chance of rain.

The garden is beginning to actually feel, and even smell, like a garden, bit by bit. I have some plants to get into the ground as soon as possible… but that is another story!

Happy weekend!