{"id":6631,"date":"2015-08-02T09:17:35","date_gmt":"2015-08-02T16:17:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogadmin.plantlust.com\/blog\/?p=6631"},"modified":"2024-01-24T07:19:30","modified_gmt":"2024-01-24T15:19:30","slug":"the-sea-of-juniper-is-filling-in","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/plantlust.com\/blog\/gardens\/the-sea-of-juniper-is-filling-in\/","title":{"rendered":"the Sea of Juniper is filling in"},"content":{"rendered":"

Just a bit over a year ago, I had the vision of someday removing the giant swath of Juniper we inherited with our Flamingo Park House. The “Sea of Juniper” was some 12′ wide and 40′ long. Apparently, back in the 60s and 70s, people got the notion that mass planting Juniper was a good idea. It was not. Truth is, I never thought we’d really get it out–and there were days when I tried to make peace with its undulating giganticness. It’s not that terrible, I told myself–even as a little voice said, oh yes it is. <\/p>\n

\"Juniper<\/a>
Juniper and miscellany shrubs,\u00a0azalea, spirea, etc., with a peek of Mt. St. Helens beyond.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

At first I thought, maybe I can make a winter-long project of it, snipping a recycling bucket or two each week. Even five buckets-worth didn’t make a dent. Hahahahaha.<\/p>\n

\"Hand<\/a>
Hand removal of Juniper over time has drawbacks. (Note decorative scallop-edged dodahs\u00a0atop the wall.)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

And then as detailed in a previous post, the men (my husband Bill and son Elliot) showed\u00a0mercy, and took the challenge up themselves. Praise be. I would have never gotten in out by myself, and I sure didn’t want to spend the thousands of $$$ having it done. There was some concern the wall might fall down, but it’s still standing. Oh those men! They’re awesome–almost all of the time.<\/p>\n

\"Rig<\/a>
Men used the rig to pull stumps. I’d have been hand digging until the twelfth of never.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Pumpkin never passes up an opportunity to supervise.<\/p>\n

\"The<\/a>
The men kick it in gear, with gung ho and power tools.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

This part reminded me of mid-dental procedure, when I’m praying nothing happens to the dentist\u00a0and there’s not an earthquake.<\/p>\n

\"And<\/a>
And then there was none, at least in this part.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Here’s something I learned. It is way easier to plant a garden from scratch when everything is cleared and the soil is\u00a0prepared. I removed some of the old juniper needles, and then topped the rest with Eric Kosher’s<\/a> special mix, half compost and the other half, a top soil\/sand mix. (Paul Bonine of Xera<\/a> said I could go this route, composting on the needles, and so I did.)<\/p>\n

\"Juniper<\/a><\/p>\n

Juniper is gone and bed is clear.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Clear<\/a>
Clear bed with fresh compost, a beautiful sight\/site. I’m going to need a lot more plants.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

And for the record, I told myself no willy nilly planting. No impulse buying of cool plants. This will be a dedicated space where things make sense, and of course, are drought tolerant.<\/p>\n

\"First<\/a>
First plants, a pair of Nolina (?) flanking Agave bracteosa<\/a>. The roundy things were here. I turned the scalloped tops earthward.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

It all looked so pitiful in the beginning, and as usual, I thought, this will never work. A field trip to Little Prince of Oregon<\/a> with fellow garden bloggers kicked started the front corner. Also a few trips to Xera and Cistus<\/a>…<\/p>\n

\"The<\/a>
The lower tier seemed a manageable place to start. The bed got a good boost from a bloggers field trip to Little Prince of Oregon.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

And then a little of this and that. I bought 2 Echium candicans<\/a>, just in case one didn’t make it. Why oh why did I plant them so close together. I guess to guarantee they both would survive. The Opuntias came from Spencer Hauser–the real Opuntia Santa<\/a>. Crazy, you stick ’em in the ground, and they’re off and blooming.<\/p>\n

\"Eryngium<\/a>
Eryngium agavifolia was transplanted from the back yard.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Looking from the top angle toward the street.<\/p>\n

\"Opuntia<\/a>
Opuntia Noid, Yucca rostrata, Echium candicans, Eryngium<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I made some sensible purchases, Manzanitas,<\/p>\n

\"Arctostaphylos<\/a>
Arctostaphylos aka Manzanita groundcover that will\u00a0cascade down the wall.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Why oh why can’t I keep track of my plants. But I have a new plan: photograph the plant with its\u00a0tag when it goes in the ground.<\/p>\n

\"Note<\/a>
Note to self: photograph plant with tag after planting.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The fabulous Pennisetum macrourum<\/a> aka African Feather Grass shown below was a gift from Scott Weber<\/a>. And that’s Canna ‘Intrigue’<\/a> slipping in to the right–nka as the tropical-needs-watering zone. I couldn’t help myself. It was open house at Rare Plant Research<\/a>. It would have been rude<\/em> to walk away empty handed.<\/p>\n

\"Pacific<\/a>
Pacific Mist Manzanita top left and John Dourley Manzanita<\/a> center. (Unless it’s A. Martha Ewan<\/a>.)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I later saw a picture of this fabulous grass in a book, and thought that I had to have it. I didn’t realize, I already did have it, the very plants that Scott Weber had given me–which he and Norm delivered to my door. These make me so happy every time I drive up to the house. They look great sitting up on high.<\/p>\n

\"Pennisetum<\/a>
Pennisetum macrourum aka African Feather Grass<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Still in the sensible choice category, this Mattole Select California Fuchsia. And in the bonus category, Hummingbirds love it.<\/p>\n

\"Zauschneria<\/a>
Zauschneria septentrionalis ‘Mattole Select’<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I transplanted a paddle from the Opuntia humifusa in the back–which we’d transplanted from the Alameda garden hellstrip. These adorable plants have a heart of gold, and spines of splinters!<\/p>\n

\"Opuntia<\/a>
Opuntia humifusa with an Eryngium agavifolium (needs weeding, which entails many tiny glochids in the skin, dammit.)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

And then starts the slippery slope. But I LOVE Canna musafolia, and this section is pretty close to the spigot, so I can give it a little sprinkle now and then, ahem, constantlty with this #@$% weather. And the Phormium aka New Zealand Flax was a bargain at Means<\/a>, so in that went–and I have to water the Banana Cannas anyway, so…<\/p>\n

\"Canna<\/a>
Canna musafolia, Cardoon (gift), and Phormium.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

 <\/p>\n

And then the brilliant mad-scientist of gardening, Lance Wright<\/a>, posted notice he’d seen this rare and super cool plant at Xera, so I ran right over and bought two. (The one planted in full sun bloomed. The other in part sun, did not.)<\/p>\n

\"Michauxia<\/a>
Michauxia campanuloides because Lance said so. Cool, right?<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

 <\/p>\n

It’s supposed to be biennial, and I don’t know exactly what that means season to season. But next year will tell.<\/p>\n\n\t\t