Twilight of the lawns

This article in The New York Times yesterday caught my eye. It's all about the decline of the great American lawn in the arid West. Most likely, it is a harbinger of the decline to come right across the country in coming years.

As the Earth heats up and drought becomes a permanent part of our lives, water will inevitably become more scarce and much more expensive. Gardeners will be forced to change their habits as water available for plants becomes less available. As the article points out, in some cities in the West, officials are already paying homeowners to rip out their thirsty lawns and plant landscaping that does not require as much water. In Los Angeles alone, since 2009, $1.4  million has been paid out to homeowners under such a program.

In other cities, lawns are now illegal! In Las Vegas, for example, lawns are banned for new housing developments. And the grass medians on the famous Strip are now synthetic turf.

In Texas, as far as I know, no city has actually banned lawns yet, but most of us live under water restrictions that dictate when we can water our plants. Typically, we are allowed to water only on certain days of the week and at certain hours of the day, usually after sunset. These restrictions are enforced more or less strictly depending on where you live. In Austin, if the police find you sprinkling your lawn (or other parts of your garden) during daylight hours, you can be fined as much as $475.

Gardeners are adapting. More and more of us are planting waterwise plants that can stand up to the drought. This is part of the basis for the boom in native plant nurseries. Gardeners are becoming educated to the fact that plants that have lived here for hundreds or thousands of years and have adapted to the dry climate can be used successfully and beautifully in the garden. Moreover, plants such as cacti and succulents are becoming common in landscapes and are sometimes taking over where lush, green grass was once the norm.

This use of native plants and a variety of plants instead of the monoculture of a grass lawn is also a boon to native wildlife, particularly pollinators. In the long term, it may very well be the salvation of some of these species.

The Times article, in their typically even-handed, tell-both-sides way, points out that "some people" think the  campaign against lawns has already gone too far. They point to worries that children will not have appropriate outdoor play spaces. Personally, I think that is a phony issue.

When I was a child, I spent my days outdoors. I was always outside. I can't ever remember actually spending time in the house before twilight. I didn't have a green lawn to play on, but I also didn't have a television or modern technological gadgets to entertain me inside. I made my own entertainment and that was outside. Today's children certainly need to get outside more, but I don't think it's the lack of a green lawn that keeping them inside. It is instead a cultural issue and a parental issue, one that won't be solved by planting a water-guzzling lawn.

This nation was once an ultra lawn-loving place. The American dream was the house with a wide expanse of dark green grass out front. This was true in every part of the country, regardless of climate, and the lawn industry devoted itself to developing grass that would grow in every climate. We've been slow to change, but now that change is picking up speed, and the knowledge that extensive grass lawns are wasteful and not necessarily good for the environment is becoming more widespread and accepted, especially among those who are environmentally conscious. Public policies that encourage this kind of thinking are, in my view, a very good step in the right direction. The twilight of the lawns is no cause for sadness.

This week in the garden - #75

Hot, hotter, hottest. That about sums up the week in the garden. 

You want more words? Dry, drier, driest. 

We've had temperatures soaring to 100 degrees F. and no rain, which tells you just about all you need to know about my week in the garden.

*~*~*~*

In spite of the hot, dry conditions, some good things have happened in the garden this week. For example, the brugmansias have finally started blooming.

This pink one lives next to the patio.

This yellow one has lived in the garden for years, but this year its blossoms look smaller than usual. In the picture, it appears bi-colored, but actually, in life, it is all yellow, although it is shades of lighter and darker yellow. 

 The brugs' cousin, the big sprawling datura, has been full of its blooms at night this week.

While the brugs' blossoms point down toward the earth, giving them their popular name of "angel trumpets," the datura points toward the heavens and is sometimes referred to as "devil's trumpet."

 Esperanza or yellow bells (Tecoma stans) was full of blooms this week.

All spring and summer, the blue plumbago has been a winner. It has been in constant bloom, attracting passing butterflies and bees. In fact, it may well be my garden's "plant of the year" so far.

*~*~*~*

The clouds and thunder and occasional sprinkles teased us today but never delivered on their promise. The weatherman says maybe tomorrow. I'm not counting on it.  

Happy birthday to me!

When I fired up the old laptop this morning and called on my friend, Google, this is what I saw.

Hmmm, I thought, some famous person has the same birthday as me. Then I ran my cursor over the doodle and read, "Happy Birthday, Dorothy!"

Wow! My friend Google remembered my birthday. I didn't know she/he/it cared. I guess it's true that Google really does know all my secrets. 

Will birthday greetings from the NSA be next?

Anyway, all of that is just to say that I'm taking a birthday break. Normal blogging will resume tomorrow...or whenever I recover from my celebration.  

Wordless Wednesday: Stapelia gigantea blooms

The Philippine lilies are blooming

Philippine lilies, aka Formosa lilies (Lilium formosanum), blooming in my garden today.

I am mostly a failure when it comes to the growing of anything that springs from a bulb. Maybe I plant the bulbs too deep or too shallowly, or I don't water them enough or I drown them, or maybe I just have the wrong kind of soil. For whatever reason, bulbs and I just don't seem simpatico, with a few notable exceptions. And so it is particularly gratifying to find one that seems willing not only to survive in my garden but to actually thrive there. Meet my Philippine lilies.

I was given a start of these lilies as a passalong by a friend about three years ago. For the first couple of years, they grew but didn't actually produce any blooms. This is the first year that they have rewarded my patience in not yanking them out of the bed a year ago. This year they actually bloomed right on schedule, here in the first week of August.  

The Philippine lily resembles a much taller Easter lily of which it is actually a close relative. These lilies can create stalks of up to 5-6 feet tall and so they are generally best planted at the back of the flower border. Those stalks will bear clusters of nodding white trumpets full of golden pollen. As the pollen is shed, the inner parts of the trumpet can become suffused with a golden hue.

Like plants such as datura, brugmansia, night-blooming jasmine, and 4 o'clocks, these lilies emit a wonderful scent at night that attracts moths, particularly the interesting hummingbird moth which is about as large as a hummingbird and is sometimes mistaken for that little bird.

Philippine lilies are said to set many seed which will easily germinate and produce new lilies. This summer/fall will be my first opportunity to test whether that is really true. I hope it is, because I would love to have more of these lovely lilies in my garden. 

This week in the garden - #74

Whew! Let me wipe the sweat from my brow and take off these nasty garden gloves and we'll get on with exploring this week in the garden.

It's no fluke that it's hot. In fact, the period from July 27 through August 20 is historically the hottest part of the summer in these parts. So far, it is living up to its reputation.

I have to pick my moments carefully in order to get work done in the garden now. For most of the day, it is pretty unbearable out there. The best time of day to work would be early in the morning, but I'm a late-to-bed, late-to-rise kind of person and I don't seem to be able to change that habit, so I lose the optimum time for gardening.

My strategy is to work in small increments of time throughout the day and to spend my largest chunk of time outside in the late afternoon, when things have cooled off a bit. In this way, I've actually managed to accomplish quite a bit this week.

Last week, I worked mostly in the front yard, so this week has been spent in the backyard - weeding, deadheading, pruning, replenishing mulch, and, of course, watering. It is the never-ending cycle of the gardener. I confess I love it!

*~*~*~*

When things get really hot, we quickly learn which plants have the mettle to take the heat and keep on performing. Here are some of this week's winners.

Throughout the summer and, in fact, throughout most of the year, the yellow cestrum brightens the garden with its yellow blossoms.

'Pride of Barbados' continues to send out blooms in spite of the heat.

And out by the goldfish pond, the jatropha sports its bright, tropical flowers.

'Belinda's Dream' is, of course, a dependable bloomer throughout much of the year.

I have daylilies that bloom early, midseason, and late. This is one of the midseason varieties.

The white "cat's whiskers" are blooming well, but the purple variety has so far been a disappointment.

The variegated abelia has lots of these pretty little blooms. It lives in a bed with the 'Tropicannas' which are grown mostly for their colorful foliage, although they also have bright orange blooms.

The native beautyberries have produced an abundance of berries this year, which will make the birds happy. The berries are now turning purple, signifying they are ripe. I also have one of the white-berried specimens, but, for some reason, it doesn't seem to be doing as well this year.

*~*~*~*

Of course, it's not just the plants and the gardener who have to learn to tolerate the heat. There are other critters in the yard who must deal with our climate. The green anoles, for example.

This year's baby green anoles have just hatched. Everywhere I turn these days I seem to encounter one of the tiny creatures, some of them just two-and-a- half or three inches long, obviously just out of the egg. The adult anoles are seldom seen at this time of year, but when it gets just a bit cooler, they will be back, too.

And then there is the backyard box turtle, Sammy.

Sammy still turns up most every day on the back porch looking for his dry kibble handout. Perhaps that's one of the way he copes with the heat. He doesn't have to work up a sweat looking for food because he knows where he can dependably find it! Every time I see this little turtle he seems to have sustained a little more damage to his shell. It must be a tough world out there for box turtles.

*~*~*~*

I do enjoy sitting on my patio at the end of the day as activity in the garden winds down and the sun sets behind my neighbors' trees to the west. The frenetic activity of the birds slows down until, usually, the only birds left at the feeders are the cardinals who like to get in one last snack before sunset. The hummingbirds, too, whiz around, visiting all the flowers and storing up energy for their high metabolism bodies to get through the night. Things get quieter. The southern breeze ruffles the leaves and the sun slowly sinks.

The sun sinks a little earlier and a little farther south each day. A month ago, it set on the north side of a particular large pine tree in my line of vision. Now it has passed all the way to the south side of the tree's trunk and in another month it probably will have made the trek all the way to the next tree in the line. By the time the winter solstice arrives, it will have passed far enough south to be out of my direct view when it sets.

And so we mark the passage of time, our journey through another year. I have a birthday coming up soon, so the passage of time is on my mind. But it is not a sad thing. Everything has its season and the season yet to come is maybe the best one of the year for us. Autumn - something to look forward to during the hot, miserable days of August.

Wordless Wednesday: Variegated Fritillary on lantana