Gardening with a Wild Heart

The San Joaquin Valley, California: A Pretty Good Place

2010-12-15T00:30:00.000-08:00

Some of us have an insatiable craving to understand the land around us. Sometimes, amazing books come along to help in this task. One such is Robert Edminster’s Streams of the San Joaquin. Written about California’s “El Valle De Los Tulares,” the San Joaquin Valley, this self-published gem reflects a lifetime of scholarly, on the ground observation of his home place, a part of California not often appreciated. Almost every point he makes is accompanied by an illuminating color photo.

There’s understated poetry in his story about his uncle’s dislike of the family farm, saying to his father, “Jack, Jack, why did you move to this godforsaken country?” I wondered about this as a boy because, not knowing anything else, I thought it was a pretty good place….Now, after more than 50 years of research…, I still think of the wet marshes and dry alkaline plains of the San Joaquin as “a pretty good place.”

If only there had been a Robert Edminster for every part of California.

California's Fading Wildflowers

2010-12-04T15:06:00.000-08:00

An intriguing new book in the field by Richard A. Minnich, is called California's Fading Wildflowers; Lost Legacy and Biological Invasions, hardback . Literally crammed with information, this heady book condenses a vast amount of firsthand information about southern California's wildflower fields of the past and present. Minnich promotes the viewpoint that wildflowers were even more prevalent than was previously thought. It's fascinating to read the many newspaper accounts of impressive bloom times. He makes it clear that we are not the first to worship California's wildflowers - "Many Los Angeles suburbs celebrated annual flower festivals as late as the 1920s."

The Grain Fields

2010-12-04T15:04:00.000-08:00

Since many wildflower seeds were used as food, (roasted and ground to make pinole), it makes sense that harbingers of a good seed harvest in the form of beautiful flowers produce an unconscious but palpable positive response."Permaculture" in California had a unique face because for many indigenous tribes, the seeds of ephemeral wildflower seeds were a crucial source of sustenance. A wildflower field was an unplowed, unmowed, unfertilized, untilled, unpesticided, unwatered, always returning grain field - part of the California definition of permaculture. Given our nitrogen addiction, and its dire consequences, it's thought-provoking to walk through this very lean, low humus, low nitrogen field with its intoxicating abundance of food-producing bloom.

Wildflower Rant

2010-12-04T14:56:00.000-08:00

Wildflower Field in Central California, with Owl's Clover

As I roam the wildflower fields in the spring, I speculate that humans have an actual biochemical response to wildflower fields. I fancy that these beautiful flowers stimulate powerful bursts of serotonin, chemicals surging through the blood that allow the ignoring of painfully strong winds or baking heat or scratchy seed-laden socks, as we search and wander, continually amazed. The places that still sing this song of annual wildflowers are fewer all the time. They teach us what we need to know, so that wandering through wildflowers might happen at home too.

Last spring was a particularly inspiring wildflower season. In a favorite central California flower field, where the wind howled, I filmed the wind in the wildflowers. Click here to view the video. It was amazing how frequently the mix changed, to different proportions of species or different species altogether. The soil in this field was lean and sandy, even white in some places. Some "dry creeks" of pure sand ribboned through the field, and they too carried their full freight of wildflowers. Every year, as well, the mix of species changes, and the reasons for this variation are both obvious and obscure, an under-investigated arena. Speculating while wandering is an important part of the wildflower experience.

Quick Biology Lesson

2010-12-04T14:51:00.000-08:00

Annuals are those species that go through an entire life cycle, from birth to flower to seed production to death, in one season. In California, that means that they germinate with the rains in the fall and winter, make good root growth through the rainy season, then begin bloom with the sun in the early spring to mid and late summer. Wildflowers go to seed through the summer,which waits for the fall rains to begin the cycle again. The gardener can go along with this ancient pattern, or choose "horticultural play," manipulating bloom time by manipulating the time of sowing.

A Dazzle of Clarkias

2010-08-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

This time of year, the Larner Seeds Demonstration Garden is giddy with 7 different species of clarkias, thriving in numerous situations. COME VISIT!

Clarkias as much as any native California genus lend themselves to horticultural frivolity and play. Sturdy and tough, easy to grow, they are adaptable in containers,or to broadcasting in the ground.

In nature, different species of clarkias thread through golden grasses on dry hills throughout California, their vivid colors intoxicating, and their survival a reminder that the dry time in California is not naturally a drab one. Far from it.

We grow them in ceramic containers, in large wooden boxes, under trees, shaded by buildings, in full sun or partshade. They can be watered and coddled, or neglected and treated to tough love. Every part of California has its own suite of clarkia species, so use them as part of a restoration garden or as a horticultural celebration. We can't say enough about this genus, so we'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Clarkia amoena, farewell to spring

Clarkia rubicunda, Ruby chalice clarkia

Clarkia identification tips:

First note whether deeply lobed, like Clarkia concinna, or not, like Clarkia amoena. Then note presence of markings and their locations, such as at the base, (Clarkia rubicunda) or in the middle of the petal (Clarkia amoena). Note whether buds are upright (Clarkia amoena) or drooping (Clarkia rubicunda). Don't get confused by the term "godetia." - an old common and botanical name no longer in use.

Clarkia unguiculata, mountain garland

Clarkia amoena, farewell to spring

The Most Beautiful Oak Tree in California

2010-04-15T09:59:00.000-07:00

Maybe it would help our local oaks, struggling against SOD, if we had a contest to declare which, among the many beauties, is the most beautiful oak in the world (of California). In this way, they might sense that they are valued, thought of, praised, admired, and the object of our constant gratitude, that, as we do for family, we long for their health and longevity.

The tan-oak, reviled for years as a “junk tree” disliked by the timber industry, is now largely extinct in Marin County and some of Sonoma. To the Pomo, it was known as “the beautiful tree” and valued for its acorns, favored above all other kinds. Let’s stop the disaffection.

I would like to enter our jay-planted oak, now about 15 years old. Inconsistent with my constant iteration to my customers, clients, and friends to keep forest trees away from homes, it is much too near our rental cottage, called The Quail House, where it hospitably allows roosting quail to spend the night. The way it frames the hip roof is friendly and beautiful, though sadly, not something that can go on forever.

From inside the Quail house, it displays silvered limbs and trunk and rich green leaves at every window of the northwest facing wall (there are three). It absorbs the northwest winds, sucks them up with its naturally rounded form and dense crispy foliage. Also, the redwood siding on that shaded, protected side of the house displays rich color still, while the other sides of the house, which is always cool, have been bleached by the sun.

I submit that this tree has the most graceful form, the healthiest foliage, and the strongest, cleanest claim to vigor and the life force of any I know. Every spring, numerous seedlings, its offspring, appear, and I have selected one to someday take the place of its parent, situated in a more advantageous distance from the Quail House.

Please submit pictures of YOUR oak tree . The winner will receive one 4” pot of peppermint candy flower (Claytonia sibirica), one 4” pot of Pt Reyes checkerbloom (Sidalcea calycosa rhizomata), and one 4” pot of meadow rue (Thalictrum polycarpum). We have found that all these species do well under oaks, requiring no summer water and blooming freely

These must be “home yard” oaks, that live with people. Contest ends May 15, 2010

Simplifying California Native Bunchgrasses

2009-02-14T12:24:00.000-08:00

It’s clear from the questions and orders we’ve been receiving that interest in California native bunchgrasses is at an all time high. And why not? They’re beautiful, drought-tolerant, important for wildlife, good forage, erosion resisting, and among other things, uniquely Californian. We’d like to answer some of the most frequently asked questions here.

Yes, this is a good time to plant native grass seed in the ground. You may have to supplement with irrigation if the rains stop before the seeds have germinated and made good root growth.
Which grasses should I plant? The wonderful thing about California is that we have so many different ecosystems; the challenging thing about California is that we have so many different ecosystems. It’s impossible for us to know definitively which particular bunchgrasses used to grow or may still grow at your particular site, but to make the best guesses possible, we recommend the following:

Bestcase scenario is to have bunchgrasses already on the site that you can augment through proper mowing or grazing techniques.
Next best is to have a nearby site with native bunchgrasses and similar elevation, aspect, and soils, that you can use as a model.
After that, go to sources such as our pamphlet Distribution of Native Grasses of California, by Alan Beetle, $7.50.
Also reference local floras of your area, available through the California Native Plant Society.

The single greatest problem growing bunchgrasses is non-native invasive species, particularly alien grasses. Ways to knock them back are addressed in our “Notes on Natives” series, the pamphlets both on Wildflowers and on Grasses.
Have realistic expectations. In hot sunny dry situations, most bunchgrass species will usually go at least partially dormant in the summer. Don’t expect a bright green lawn. Some species can maintain partial greenness with supplemental water. BUT remember, “Brown’s’s the New Green,” so relax and perceive the subtle beauty of these fascinating plants.
For background on the ecology of native bunchgrasses, see our Notes on Native Grasses or the chapter “The Land Wore a Tufted Mantle” in Judith Lowry’s Gardening with a Wild Heart.

Container growing: We grow seedlings in pots throughout the season, but ideal planning for growing your own plants in pots is to sow six months before you want to put them in the ground. Though restorationists frequently use plugs and liners (long narrow containers), and they may be required for large areas, we prefer growing them the horticultural way: first in flats, then transplanting into 4" pots, and when they are sturdy little plants, into the ground. Our thinking is that since they are not tap-rooted but fibrous-rooted (one of their main advantages as far as deep erosion control is concerned) square 4" pots suit them, and so far our experiences have borne this out.

In future newsletters, we will be reporting on the experiences and opinions of Marin ranchers Peggy Rathmann and John Wick, who are working with UC Berkeley researcher Wendy Silver on a study of carbon sequestration and bunchgrasses. So far, it’s very promising. But more on that later. For now, I’ll end with a quote from Peggy, who grows, eats, nurtures, lives, and sleeps bunchgrasses, for the health of their land and the benefit of their cows.

“It takes a while. But it’s so worth it.”

Clovers

2008-10-02T10:07:00.000-07:00

"In former times we gathered clover."
-Carolina Welmas (Cupeno Indian), 1973

Once so common as to be an important food source for the indigenous Californians, the native clovers of California are now rarely seen. Once, they inhabited the bare spots between bunchgrasses, fixing nitrogen for the bunchgrasses with which they intertwined, or shared the wildflower fields with other annual wildflowers. Most are extremely attractive, both in flower and foliage, and quite varied. Low-growing, they make good "front of the border bloomers", and are delightful in containers.

Normally, they are sown in the fall and bloom in early spring to mid-summer, but we have had successful grow-outs sowing both later and earlier. See picture below: Sowing the seed in flats in February, we transplanted into 4" pots in April, into the ground in June, and still have them blooming in September, both in containers and in border plantings. Trifolium albopurpurpeum, delicately beautiful, with deep purple and white markings and long, narrow, elegant leaves,

Clovers are both nutritious, delicious, and TOXIC. WARNING: All clovers have toxic principles, so please don't eat them till we know more. The indigenous technology of "clover eating," precious knowledge, is not readily available to us. Consider yourself warned. For now, till we know more, please grow for their beauty, interest, and wildlife value. Note that in 1902, V.K. Chesnut in his classic ethnobotany, Plants Used by the Indians of Mendocino County discusses the importance of clover-eating. He also mentions that in Round Valley, an Indian woman died, reputedly from eating too much native clover.

The Queen of Clovers
Showy Indian clover, Trifolium amoenum. In 1993, a single plant of T. amoenum, presumed to be extinct, was about to be bulldozed next to a road near Occidental in Sonoma County. Rescued in the nick of time, those precious seeds have been carefully passed around for grow-outs. This year, we grew twenty plants, and are listing this seed for the first time in VERY limited quantities.

Grindelia stricta - Gumplant

2008-09-05T13:55:00.000-07:00

What a year for gumplant, Grindelia stricta, this has been. It started blooming early August and is still going strong in September. The blossoms are large yellow daisies, easily 3” across, which make good cut flowers. They are frequented by masses of European honeybees (this is data, they’re still around as of August 2008) and many interesting though unnamed native pollinators. Butterflies love it.

I’m always surprised to see it growing around the lagoon, where it is lanky and scrawny compared to the magnificent plants that now appear in new places in our garden. Deep green leaves and stunning flowers, and we don’t help it out much, no water and no fertilizer. Seems to like wood chip mulch. Maybe it is our appreciation that makes it so healthy. Cut about four inches above the ground in late fall. Appreciate.

Scrophularia californica - California Bee Plant

2008-09-05T13:01:00.000-07:00

Today (September 4), we collected the fine black seed of California figwort, or California bee plant, Scrophularia californica. In the class of large perennials that go dormant in the late summer/early fall, California bee plant astounds me with its ability to rise up through the most trying circumstances, such as a smothering cover of cape ivy, that nasty vine considered the kudzu of the west, which easily eliminated shrubs and trees in the vacant lot next to our Demonstratiion Garden. The only other plant in sight was California bee plant.

When bee plant turned up in my courtyard garden, it was so attractive, with its large fresh green leaves and small but beautiful deep red flowers that I allowed a mass to flow around an old stump. I cut it to the ground every fall and enjoy its return with the winter rains. It spreads through underground rhizomes as well as seeds, but is easily contained by simply pulling unwanted plants straight out of the ground. They give up in a mannerly fashion.

The flowers backlit glow ruby-red, and though not usually considered for the native plant garden, it should be. Maybe the seeds are edible, as the seed of so many native species are. (I’ll let you know). Easy to grow, and the bees will thank you.”

Achillea millefolium - White Yarrow

2008-08-31T10:48:00.000-07:00

Part of the sunflower family, Achillea millefolium grows in full sun, but if used for a lawn substitute, usually is more satisfactory through the summer with a bit of shade, unless on the coast. As it is soft to the touch and spreads through rhizomes, we are experimenting with using it as part of a grassless “coastal lawn,” with other low-growing native herbaceous species, like coast strawberry, Pt. Reyes checkerbloom, and coast lotus.

For light traffic, not a soccer field. Cut every few months, don’t allow to go to seed. Leaves are aromatic, and foliage color ranges from dark green to silver gray. If let bloom in spring and early summer, its flowers will attract bees and butterflies. It is also found in Europe, and in California, local forms should be treasured.

Tarweeds and the Fifth Season

2008-08-21T22:36:00.000-07:00

Deep in the dense fogs of August, I see in the garden outside my study window a multitude of sunny yellow disks floating disembodied in the pervasive gray. Their scanty stems and petioles are scarcely visible, so that the blossoms themselves, with no visible means of support, seem suspended in midair. To say they are a cheering sight doesn't begin to express the impact of the native wildflower called elegant, or common, tarweed (Madia elegans), blooming in the days of fog.

California's unique "fifth season," the time when the true aridity of our region most expresses itself and no immediate hope of rain exists, is supposed to be quiet, restrained, and without much bloom, as befits a Mediterranean climate. Yet tarweed's drought-evading strategies allow it to blossom when the soil dries and cracks, days are long, and rain only a distant memory. The clay soils preferred by tarweed may retain sufficient moisture at depth to retard desiccation till seeds have set. An unusual mucilaginous substance in the leaf tissue also aids in water retention.

Elegant tarweed's lemony-yellow petals, yellow with just a hint of green, are fully open only at the beginning or the end of the day, or when we are enshrouded in fog. I say to garden visitors on a sunny day, "Oh, if only you had been here before the sun came out." In years when it has reseeded around my house, I can wander in a tarweed forest, inhaling its complex soapy fragrances, with their intriguing undertone of kerosene. It's a deep-summer-in-California smell, fresh and bracing. Hayfield tarweed (Hemizonia congesta ssp. congesta), found in fields between Bolinas and Olema, has a sharp, compelling odor and turns our midsummer coastal fields to gold.

I share my love of tarweed with a plenitude of insects. Once I collected seed from the hayfield tarweed mentioned above. In doing so, I disrupted bug paradise, a heaven of insect life going on in those seed heads. The collecting basket into which I beat the seeds was soon teeming with a diverse mass of insects madly trying to escape, now that they had been dislodged from their snug seed homes.

In August-to-October the small black seeds of elegant madia, beloved by finches, rest in the dried flower heads, the stalks forming a delicate tracery of gray. I find the fine blur of their crisp stems, holding on through the fall, to be quite gardenworthy, especially when planted in a relatively large area, at least one hundred square feet. Studies have shown that pollinators prefer such a patch to smaller, scattered populations one of many examples where good garden design creates good habitat.

A homeowner in Los Gatos, looking for a groundcover for the slopes around her new house, went to a nearby hillside to collect seed of Hemizonia congesta ssp. luzulifolia, a tarweed with pure white petals. It thrived and was attractive at all seasons, becoming the keynote plant of her garden—a good example of both a creative use of tarweed and the rewards of turning to local species for garden solutions. This gardener earns an honorary membership in the Tarweed Appreciation Society.

For native Californians, the beauty of wildflowers was literally mouthwatering. Linked with hopes for a bountiful seed harvest from which to make pinole (roasted, ground seed food), tarweed, with its rich and oily seeds, was an important component of the indigenous diet. In Grace Carpenter Hudson's painting The Tarweed Gatherer, held in the collection of the Grace Hudson Museum in Ukiah, California, a member of the Pomo tribe is depicted carrying a seed beater and gathering basket with which to harvest tarweed seed.

Indigenous land management practices fostered flourishing wildflower fields. One writer from the early 1900s referred to tarweed as "wild wheat," saying that the Indian's autumn begins when "the lemo- lo sap-o-lil (wild wheat or tarweed) had all been gathered and winnowed and the whole countryside could now be baptized with fire." Containers of tarweed seeds have been found in archaeological digs. Some of us are eating them again. If we partly owe their presence now to the management practices of West Marin's indigenous peoples, thank you for that. Thank you for tarweeds.

The Tarweed Gatherer by Grace Carpenter Hudson (1865–1937), a painter well known for her more than 600 portraits, mostly of Pomo people. Her anthropologist husband John was an outstanding scholar-collector of basketry and other ethnographic artifacts. This reproduction is courtesy the Grace Hudson Museum, Ukiah, California (www.gracehudsonmuseum.org);
special thanks to curator Marvin Schenck.

More, Much More, about Poppies

2007-07-17T22:23:00.000-07:00

There is much to say about the California poppy. One botanist from UC Berkeley found 70 different subspecies in different parts of California, each varying slightly from the others. The Jepson Manual, the most current California flora, lumps them all together, because they do cross and mingle characteristics. But losing the subspecies particular to different regions is a loss of biodiversity, and ALSO of possibilities for the native plant gardener.

I used to wonder (frequently out loud) why so many orange poppies were found in my coastal region, where I knew the type was yellow with an orange blotch at the base, or no orange blotch. Giving a talk at a garden club on that topic, I saw a woman waving her hand at the back of the room. "I grew up at the ranch that is now Audubon Canyon Ranch," she said. "Every year my father planted a huge sack (I forget now if it was 50 or 100 pounds, but a significant amount) of the orange California poppy." "Oh," I said. Mystery solved.

Throughout California, literally tons of the orange-flowered annual type most frequently thought of as THE California poppy, and possibly originating in Antelope Valley in souther California, were sown by Boy Scouts, by garden clubs, by landowners, by gardeners, inadvertently swamping out the individuality of each area's own form of the California poppy. Some were even dropped from airplanes, as "beautification" measures.

It has been so interesting to grow our own form on the coast. As a perennial, it behaves quite differently from the annual inland orange form (I am referring to them as "forms" since the subspecies have been eliminated taxonomically, at least for the moment). The tap root can get immense, as long as two feet, and thick as a baseball bat (which we have experimentally used it as).

In dry years, it flourishes, and I used to worry that it was too aggressive, eliminating other wildflowers. Then I observed that in wet years, it was substantially knocked back, because it doesn't like wet feet. Now I just relax, counting on an ebb and flow of the coastal form of the California poppy, so that it is only one element among many in the garden.

The bouquets must be seen to be believed. Some flowers open 4" wide by the end of their time in the vase. Many songs have been written in praise of the California poppy, but none seem to mention the distinction between Eschscholzia californica and Eschscholzia californica var. californica, formerly, var. maritima. It probably doesn't scan well.

The Coastal Form of the California Poppy

2007-06-09T16:41:00.000-07:00

Though the orange, annual, upright Eschscholzia californica is part of everyone's image of the classic California landscape, the type first collected by the Russians is actually the one pictured here, now called Eschscholzia californica var. californica.

It was once thought there were 70 subspecies of the California poppy all over California. Boy Scouts and others have spent years spreading seed from one gene pool in southern california, but local subspecies still do exist, and it is one good way of locating ourselves more specifically where we live, to foster those in our gardens.

It's always surprising and exciting to see how local natives adapt to local garden situations - and the possibilties are endless, and practically untapped. The native species regularly seen in nurseries are just the beginning.

Nemophillas

2007-05-17T09:07:00.000-07:00

As I queried in our May newletter, breathes there anybody with soul so dead as not to love baby blue eyes. Low-growing, good for the front of the flower border, and stunning in large containers, baby blue eyes is a universal favorite.

Seed can be sown this time of the year in the midwest and east coast; Californians and West Coasters would have to supply the necessary irrigation for germination and early growth, and a part-shade spot would be preferable. My large mass of nemophilas, blooming full on now May 17, was sown in late January, here on the north-central coast.

Five spot is equally delightful; there is no choosing between the two. I have sat for hours on a chair in the middle of our planting, watching native bumblebees and other pollinators go after the nectar these open cupped flowers freely offer. They take longer on each flower than on other nearby wildflowers, like Chinese houses or sky lupine, perhaps because there is more to get.
I sowed one stand in part-shade and one in the open in rich soil, another in the open in less rich soil, with more undigested woody material. I'm fond of the latter space because all the wildflowers are small, reminding me of how they look in certain wild places on very lean soil.

Because I have spent years describing plants, I am always appreciative of those botanists of the past who have allowed themselves to wax eloquent about our California natives, fleshing out the dry taxonomical description with their own emotional reactions to the plants. Isn't that what it's all about?

I agree with herbalist Stephen Buhner, whose wonderful book, The Lost Language of Plants, we offer. I take his philosophy to mean that a way a plant makes you feel - that is that plant's medicine. Masses of yellow composites, such as Tidy Tips (Layia platyglossa), and Goldfields (Lasthenia glabrata), lift my spirits - hence, they are anti-depressants. It's a tangible physical and mental phenomenon. Baby blue eyes makes me think that life is, indeed, sweet.

Baby-Blue-Eyes, sweet soul of spring

2007-05-17T08:03:00.000-07:00

As I queried in our newletter, breathes there anybody with soul so dead as not to love baby blue eyes? Low-growing, good for the front of the flower border, and stunning in large containers, baby blue eyes is a universal favorite. It can be sown this time of the year in the midwest and east coast; Californians and West Coasters would have to supply the necessary irrigation for germination and early growth, and a part-shade spot would be preferable. My large mass of nemophilas, blooming full on now May 17, was sown in late January, here on the north-central coast.

Five spot is equally delightful; there is no choosing between the two. I have sat for hours on a chair in the middle of our planting, watching native bumblebees and other pollinators go after the nectar these open cupped flowers freely offer. They take longer on each flower than on other nearby wildflowers, like Chinese houses or sky lupine, perhaps because there is more to get.

I sowed one stand in part-shade and one in the open in rich soil, another in the open in less rich soil, with more undigested woody material. I'm fond of the latter space because all the wildflowers are small, reminding me of how they look in certain wild places on very lean soil.

Because I have spent years describing plants, I am always appreciative of those botanists of the past who have allowed themselves to wax eloquent about our California natives, fleshing out the dry taxonomical description with their own emotional reactions to the plants. Isn't that what it's all about?

I agree with herbalist Stephen Buhner, whose wonderful book, The Lost Language of Plants, we offer. I take his philosophy to mean that a way a plant makes you feel - that is that plant's medicine. Masses of yellow composites, such as Tidy Tips (Layia platyglossa), and Goldfields (Lasthenia glabrata), lift my spirits - hence, they are anti-depressants. It's a tangible physical and mental phenomenon, with a chemical basis. Baby blue eyes makes me think that life is sweet; here's what some other botanists of the past have said about it:

"When skies are smiling and the earth is already clothed with a luxuriant and tender herbage, we find upon some balmy morning that the baby-eyes have opened in gentle surprise upon the lovely world. The spring breezes blow over no more beautiful and ethereal flowers than these. Companies of them open together, dotting the sward and luring us on from one to another, the one just beyond always seeming a little brighter blue or a little more captivating than those near at hand, till we are beguiled into filling our hands with them.

These delicate blossoms vary greatly in size and color. The largest and finest I ever saw grew upon the flower-sprinkled slopes of Lake Merced, near San Francisco."
From the campanulate, half-opened buds, it has been called "California bluebell," and among the Spanish-Californians it is known as "Mariana."
Mary Elizabeth Parsons, The Wild Flowers of California," 1955.

Any botanists of San Francisco still seeing "Mariana" on the slopes of Lake Merced? These descriptions tell us what was where once, and also, what might be restored. The custom of common naming flowers after women and women after flowers persists in many cultures. We have Rose, Daisy, Lily, the Spanish had Mariana, and the Coast Miwok, where I live, named some women Silai, after checkerbloom, Sidalcea malvaeflora. Other examples out there?

Here's Leslie L. Haskin, writing in 1934 in Wild Flowers of the Pacific Coast, about baby blue-eyes: "They are among the most delicate and charming of our flowers, an epitome of modesty and purity. Compared with the size of the plants, the flowers are very large, often one to one anda half inches across. They are reaised on slender peduncles well above the foliage, so that in a breeze they nod and flutter like white butterflies."

Writing in more modern times is John Thomas Howell, whose beloved Marin Flora is due to be republished in updated form this August: Certainly this (Nemophila menziesii) is one of the most beautiful and best-beloved wildflowers of the spring,a high favorite with everyone...In low wet fields and on springly slopes in the hills a quite different form with white corolla dotted with black or dark blue is sometimes locally abundant. This type is N. menziesii var. atomaria..."

Once some years back we did a small grow-out of the above variety of baby blue eyes,Nemophila menziesii var. atomaria, white with black or blue spots, and were able to briefly add it to our seedlist. It was also delightful in containers. Doing these small grow-outs is my delight, but I can never keep up with all that I would like to be able to offer. Any seed collectors out there who would like to barter - we'd love to hear from you.