These paperwhites, a housewarming gift from a dear friend, are almost as white as the snow outside. They may not warm my toes, but they warm my heart!

I passed it by the first week. The second week it was the only one left in the grocery store, and marked down. Last year I had no success inducing dormancy and rebloom in a hothouse cyclamen, but this year I'm going to try again.

When it was blooming outside, the flowers were a deep red. Now they are pink. I guess I should just be thankful it's blooming at all.

Inspired by the words of Elizabeth Lawrence, “We can have flowers nearly every month of the year,” Carol of May Dreams Gardens started Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. On the 15th of every month, garden bloggers from all over the world publish what is currently blooming in their gardens, and leave a link in Mr. Linky and the comments of May Dreams Gardens.

Imagine having a garden composed of only female plants. It could be considered a goddess garden. Think how subtle that would be. I wonder how long it would take for visitors to discover the organizing principle. It might be the solution for persons with pollen allergies or provide cuts for their house.

I could have included Ash, Willows, Poplars, and many others but making a list or creating a catalog isn’t the point. By asking a simple question “Why?” and pursuing it, an unnoticed world opened up. It was always around me, waiting to be revealed. One last story.

The picture of cycads from earlier doesn’t match the words in the paragraph. The plants are well-grown but they certainly don’t “dominate” the bed, let alone the room. On one of my visits I discovered that the wonderful old plants I wrote about were gone. I was heart-sickened and very depressed about it. Yes, they had outgrown their area, becoming too tall and touching the ceiling. But still, to treat them as trash and throwing them out felt wrong. My visit was ruined; the joy I always felt was gone.

The facility has undergone several expansions over the years. I always think of these as the “new” areas because their more modern architecture doesn’t mesh seamlessly with Morgan’s original design. I routinely visit several areas throughout the building and a surprise was waiting for me in one of the new wings. The old cycads hadn’t been discarded but had been moved to a temporary bed while a permanent one was prepared. The people in charge valued what was around them; they weren’t just taking care of a place. They are stewards, honoring the past, living in the present, and planning a positive future. My wish is many more years for the cycads and all of us.

I had a hard time thinking of a vegetable that belonged with this group and then it hit me: Asparagus. Named varieties are usually all male but the grower missed this one. Asparagus is my number one favorite vegetable and the plants from the garden are the sweetest I’ve tasted. Male and female are equally good but do remove the seedlings as a crowded bed will become impossible to tend.

This seems the right place to state that marijuana is also a member of this exclusive group. In this case, it is the female plants and their buds that are the objects of desire. Or so I’ve been told. Although I came of age in the late 60s and 70s, I’ve never had the desire to indulge in the herb. However, I did one time partake of it baked into brownies. My thoughts and perceptions seemed the same after imbibing as they did beforehand, so I can’t truly say if a high was achieved. But my memory of the brownies’ sublime chocolaty goodness still lingers, so who knows.

If you were to cross a rush with papyrus, added a touch of bamboo and seasoned with horsetail, the result might be a Restio. In this case, the entire family is dioecious. Originating mostly in South Africa and Australia with a smattering of species in other countries in the southern hemisphere, these are tough plants that can take a lot of drought and seasonal wet, don’t require intense fertilization, and aren’t bothered by pests. Their sin is they aren’t cold hardy but they can take colder temperatures than once was believed. Their foliage is usually a variation on non-branching reed-like culms but there are also plants with feathery groupings of fine hair-like stems that make great contrasts to other plants. Plant size can vary from 18 inches to 10 foot specimens, depending on the species. Sexual dimorphism can come into play as Restio females are often larger and more robust than the males.

We’ve been growing one of the more common ones for five years and it makes the seasonal cycles from indoors to outdoors and back with aplomb. Its needs are simple – water, light and protection from winter. It doesn’t require feeding and doesn’t get bugs. It’s the earliest to go out in the spring and one of the last to return in the fall. It doesn’t fall apart if a light to mild frost hits it. It takes division beautifully and mixes well with its neighbors. What’s not to like?

Part 5 of a 6 part series. Tomorrow – wrapping it up.

I never considered it before I started looking for these plants but some of them exhibit sexual dimorphism, an obvious physical difference between male and female. The Silene is a good example. The male leaves are narrower, its sepals are pigmented and the flowers are smaller but more abundant. The females are a brighter white, their bases are inflated and they rise on taller stems.

Bittersweet also exhibits differences when young. My male is smaller but its leaves are broader. The female is a vigorous grower and is four times as large with narrower leaves. There are generally two kinds of plants available, American and Asian. I suspect my plants are Asian, based on the way the flowers and fruits are distributed and arranged on the stems. My desire is to grow only the native species. Well that’s the excuse I’ll use for their removal because, except for the little fruits, there is nothing distinguishing or interesting about their growth or foliage. I’m happy to try something new. Maybe from the next group of plants.

Kiwis from the market are also vining plants and yep, they have two houses too. Buy plants from a reputable seller if you want fruit and be sure to always get two. The Kiwi genus is Actinidia (ak-tih-NID-ee-uh) and if you’re willing to venture into new territory there are ones that are hardy into zone 4 and maybe even 3. Their fruit is smaller and hairless than the typical Kiwis and they’re also green when ripe. I recently bought some of these fruits, marketed as “Kiwi berries”, that were the size of large grapes. No peeling was required as the skin is soft and edible and so are the miniscule seeds. The taste was delicious, showing a flavor kinship to grapes, bananas and custard. If you think of them as “fancy” or “gourmet” grapes you’ll really enjoy them. Actinidia plants themselves are handsome enough that even if they didn’t fruit you would want them climbing on something. In fact, the species kolomikta (koh-loh-MIK-tuh) is grown for its foliage. The leaves are naturally variegated with a large pale area at the tip of each leaf. The best cultivars tend towards white and sometimes even pink. The male is the showier of the two.

If there is one plant that most people know you need two for fruit it would be Holly. A mainstay for the holiday season, the evergreen ones are often the backbone in many borders. There are many species, varieties, and hybrids. Lists are available that recommend which males and females are the most compatible with each other. Think of the list as a dating service that has pre-screened and matched up the possible partners based on their flowering time and the species involved.

There is another shrub that is also associated with holidays but you’re more likely to have sniffed it than seen it and that’s Bayberry. Plants grow best in part shade and are nominally evergreen but its steel blue berries are the real reason to grow it. A friend with an herb business used to collect the berries and their seeds from a splendid patch growing at the largest mall in the Albany region. But they’re no longer there as the mall removed the plants and created an employee break area in their place. I keep hoping a seed or two might have been overlooked and the plants can grow again but so far nothing has come back.

The Staghorn Sumacs around here are what helped push me to write about this subject. Some plants had large red fruits on their terminal growths while others didn’t and I wondered why. I wish it had come to me intuitively but no, I looked it up. These are large plants and their non-stop suckering makes them ill-suited for any but the largest gardens. I mature clump can easily be 30 x 30’ and larger. The golden leaved variety “Tiger Eyes” is reputed to be smaller and less aggressive.

Sumacs have fantastic fall color but beyond that I couldn’t see the point to growing them. That changed one day in early spring. After a short spate of warm and sunny days, the weather turned cold again and then shifted over to snow flurries. Denied easy access to the ground, Robins flew onto the plants, settled down and began actively dismantling the fruits. I’ve also seen wild turkeys in midwinter take advantage of the bounty. One athletic bird was balanced on top, opening and eating the fruits. It was also inadvertently knocking down others to its cohorts below. Part 4 of a 6 part series. Tomorrow – part 5

The swelling flower buds of Red Maples give some of the first colorings in spring, letting us know that most of winter is behind us. The open flowers reveal that they’re part of this group, too.

Another dioecious American native is Kentucky Coffee Tree with the challenging name Gymnocladus dioica (jim-NOK-lad-us dy-oh-EYE-kuh, try it, it’s fun). Ungainly as saplings, they appear as nothing more than sticks but with handsome and large compound leaves. I have a liking for plants in the pea family and planted three small ones. I’m hoping I have both types but it will be many years in the future before I’ll know.

If you noticed the similarity between dioecious and dioica then you’re quicker at perceiving patterns and relationships than I am. But once my attention was drawn to it I’ve been seeing this species name more often than I expected.

A commonly encountered garden perennial is Goatsbeard, Aruncus dioicus. Its extravagantly creamy flowers enliven shaded beds in summer and its commonness here allows it to escape close scrutiny. I feel fortunate that mine is a seed-grown clump rather than clonally (vegetative) propagated and double lucky to have both sexes. The female is the plant with the slender plumes on the far left in the above picture. After the flowers are gone the seedpods look as if small green chains have been threaded along the stems.

False meadow rue, Thalictrum dioica, is a native woodlander. It’s not locally abundant but I see it every so often, especially now that I’ve been looking for it. It doesn’t have the wow factor of the garden selections and hybrids but has its own grace. The flowers in close up remind me of sea creatures; the male are little jellyfish and the female are tiny octupuses or anemones. A more familiar plant is stinging nettle, Urtica dioica. We used to call it electric weed as we plucked young seedlings from cutflower beds. It was onerous and never-ending work but preferable to handling the mature stems. I’m crazy enough to consider growing it again because it is a preferred food plant of Red Admiral butterflies.

If you’re in the mood for something different how about Glade Mallow, Napaea dioica? These can be big plants and in their preferred habitat of part shade and good moisture the leaves are large and the flowering stems are tall – up to ten feet. Small white flowers in clusters on top are reputed to be fragrant. I haven’t grown this one yet but I keep eyeing seed lists and I know I’ll succumb at some point.

Red Campion, Silene dioica, is an English wildflower I might want to grow in the future. Until then I’m enjoying its European stable mate white Campion. There’s no question it’s a field weed but it’s so pretty and carefree that I don’t discourage them when they wander into the garden. I like all kinds of Dianthus but they haven’t grown well for me. Silene is also a member of the Pinks family and I’ll use it as a substitute until I’m able crack the code of my Dianthus deficiency. Part 3 of a 6 part series. Tomorrow – part 4

In the Oakland hills near the Berkeley border is Chapel of the Chimes, a columbarium. Renovated and expanded by Julia Morgan, the architect of Hearst Castle in San Simeon, it is a melding of Spanish and Gothic styles with arches, latticing and copious stained glass. I’ve been visiting since I was very young and it remains one of my all time favorite destinations. I reacquaint myself each visit with its myriad fountains, conservatory gardens, retractable skylights and hidden rooms.

Chapel of the Chimes is built into a hillside and Morgan’s building takes full advantage of the site. From the main entry hall the original building rises in three terraces. Two palms dominated the first terrace. As I grew older and embraced the world of horticulture, I realized they weren’t palms but cycads, members of an ancient group of plants. These plants were tall and splendid and had been there for many decades. When they flowered it surprised me. Closer inspection revealed the inflorescences were different and I realized they were female and male plants. What were the chances that one of each would be there? I took it as a sign of providence and fate.

Ginkgo trees are also relics of an earlier time and share the fact of separate male and female plants. Most named cultivars are male as the females are accused of being “messy” with their fruit drop. If you have the space why not plant a group of both kinds and let them fulfill their destiny.

The native Black tupelo mostly fits in with this group of plants. Considered dioecious, it occasionally produces flowers of the opposite sex as well as perfect flowers on the same tree. I hope you’re not thinking confused gender identity too. Part 2 of a 6 part series. Tomorrow – part 3

The street I grew up on was lined with Sycamore trees. Their leafy masses were a delight in summer and always produced some good-natured grumbling during fall raking. These were small city lots and as time moved on problems developed. Blocked sewer lines became common and sidewalks started to lift and shift, making walking difficult and potentially hazardous. The repair costs were a burden for most owners so my family and most of the other homeowners had their trees removed. The city proposed replanting with new trees of a different type and most of us accepted their offer. The trees they planted were selected for their smaller mature size and evergreen leaves. The homeowners were satisfied but something was lost and the feeling of a neighborhood was gone, at least to my eyes.

After several years of living with the new trees it was apparent something was different with ours. Most of the others remained tidy, growing modestly and seemed unchanging from year to year. Ours insisted on being different. It grew faster than its street mates, always suckering madly. Its branches were longer, its leaves more lustrous and luxurious. The reason it was different was revealed when pods appeared and dropped on everything below it. The city had planted Carob trees and ours was one of the few females around.

Whether for beauty or fragrance or the fruit that may develop, we enjoy flowers for many reasons. Their real purpose, however, is reproduction and continuance of their genetic lines. Most plants have flowers with pollen and seed-bearing parts, their stamens and pistils, in one flower. These types of flowers are described as “perfect”.

Imperfect flowers are unisexual, being either staminate (pollen-producing) or pistillate (seed-producing) but not both. Monoecious (moe-NEE-shus), meaning one house, have separate flowers on the same plant. My alders already have small pollen-laden catkins waiting for spring and their assignations with the cone-like females. Corn, squash, calla lilies and other aroids, and tuberous begonias are common examples.

Dioecious (dye-EE-shus), meaning two houses (see the pattern) are imperfect flowers on different plants. This is a very small group in the floral kingdom and you have to wonder why this was thought to be the path for survival and continuation of their lines. But it works and the plants are still with us. Allow me to introduce you to some of these odd plants. Part 1 of a 6 part series. Tomorrow – part 2

I am trying Red Dragon Wing Begonia as a houseplant this winter.

I planted them three to a twelve-inch pot, and they grew beautifully in the light shade of my Juneberry tree with scarcely any attention from me. It helped that we got regular rainfall this summer because I often forgot they were out there and didn’t water them when I watered my other containers.

I had two pots of them, but I only brought one pot in to winter over. It is still blooming like crazy in a western window. The leaves are not looking too happy, which may be due to the adjustment of moving indoors. Or it could be my erratic watering practices (ahem). But it also does reside in the same room as our wood stove. The stove is on the other side of the room, but I’m sure it dries out the air, despite the kettle of water we keep on the stove.

If I can keep this begonia alive throughout the winter, I’m hoping to root cuttings and plant them in the window boxes. For now, I am very pleased to see its bright blooms on the many dreary winter days.

Inspired by the words of Elizabeth Lawrence, “We can have flowers nearly every month of the year,” Carol of May Dreams Gardens started Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. On the 15th of every month, garden bloggers from all over the world publish what is currently blooming in their gardens, and leave a link in Mr. Linky and the comments of May Dreams Gardens.

Mulch can kill trees–that sounds kind of extreme, doesn’t it? But it caught your attention, right? I suppose it would be more accurate to say improper mulching can kill trees, but as I look around me, improper mulching of trees seems to be the standard practice, the only kind of mulching around trees that’s being done.

The previous owners of our new home appear to have paid a lot of attention to detail and tried to rebuild and remodel everything correctly, so the house would endure. They very considerately left behind a paper detailing the house’s history, in which they say that this oak tree was planted in 1885, the same year the house was built:

The flare of this 126-year-old oak tree is buried in mulch

The tree flare is easily visible on this tree growing in the woods without human intervention

How does mulch harm trees?

When you put mulch around the trunk of a tree and cover the root flare, you are covering up parts of the tree that were meant to be exposed to air. The excess moisture can cause rot, but the trunk of the tree is supposed to have access to air, and by piling up mulch against the bark you are preventing this. If the mulch is left there long enough, the tree will try to compensate by growing adventitious roots. Unfortunately, these same roots can wind up wrapping around the tree and girdling it. Figure 11 on this article written by a tree preservation expert illustrates this girdling in progress. The tree winds up killing itself. So we have three ways improper mulching can kill a tree:

1. rot
2. suffocation
3. girdling

In addition, the stress of improper mulching could make the tree more vulnerable to a secondary problem, such as an insect infestation.

Uh-oh. How do I fix this?

You need to remove the excess mulch from around the tree. I’ve started doing that with the oak that I mentioned previously.

I've started to remove the mulch from around the oak tree

So what’s the right way to mulch a tree?

According to Marianne Ophardt, a Washington State Cooperative Extension Agent writing for the Mid-Columbia Community Forestry Council, you should keep the mulch “six inches away from the trunks of young trees and one foot away from the trunks of older, mature trees.” Ideally, the mulch will be in a 2 to 4 inch layer extending out to the drip line, because lawn grass releases chemicals that inhibit the growth of trees. Not many homeowners with large trees want such vast expanses of mulch. Trees can grow in lawns, but more slowly. The most important thing is to avoid burying the tree flare.

Why does this happen?

I can understand why homeowners over-mulch their trees. They’ve heard that mulch is good for plants in general. They know that string trimmers can damage the trunk. But they want to have their lawn looking neat without getting off their riding lawn mowers if at all possible. It seems like the way to accomplish that is to mulch right up to the trunk, and mow right up to where the mulch and grass meet. I guess people spend so little time nowadays around naturally growing trees that the lack of a tree flare doesn’t bother them, or they think it doesn’t matter.

But I have seen plantings of trees around businesses, obviously hired out, that have “mulch volcanoes” around them. You would think a professional landscaper would know better. Could it be that their clients actually prefer the volcano look, and insist on it? What do you think?

Resources Consulted

• Root Collar Inspections
• Rejuvenating Tree Roots
• Mulching Trees is Good and Bad
• Saving the Maltby Oak

When we first started the process of buying our new house, I thought we’d be moving in August. In early July I started digging up colchicum corms as the leaves died down, indicating they were going dormant. It turns out the first date proposed for closing on a house is usually wildly optimistic, and my first opportunity to plant the corms in their new homes was Labor Day weekend–when it was raining.

I dug these colchicums in early July, when they went dormant.

The weather has not been cooperating, but neither is the soil. This is what the native soil at the new place looks like:

The saturated clay soil is heavy and difficult to work with

For the Plant Geeks Among Us: Colchicum Botanical Structures

The silver lining in this horticultural cloud is the opportunity to see how colchicums “work.” Compared to other bulbous plants, they have an odd structure–a foot–that extends below the base of the corm. You can see in the photo below that the primary flowering shoot emerges from this foot.

The primary flower stalk emerges from the foot of the colchicum corm.

The leaves are from this past spring. If the ovary is fertilized, the seed capsule will emerge with next spring's leaves.

Rose ovaries--the hips--are right behind the blossom.

That’s one reason why I like colchicums. Besides being pretty, they are seriously weird.