A recent column concerning purple voodoo lilies, white peace lilies, white calla lilies, and multi-colored calla lily hybrids evoked the following responses:
“I just thought I would write and tell you about my voodoo lilies,” wrote Linda Self. “We discovered one about 50 years ago when we thought something had died in our yard due to the smell. But then we realized the odor was coming from this beautiful purple flower. Today, I have them growing all up and down a walkway and in a corner of my yard. They don’t get any water except for rain and an occasional hosing down of the walkway. I don’t fertilize and pretty much ignore them and they bloom every year with beautiful purple stinky lilies.”
Karen Hong, who gardens in West Covina, wrote: “I just read your article, which included colored calla lilies and peace lilies. As your article states, growing my peace lily in a shaded, protected place has allowed it to thrive. It was planted in 2010 after my husband’s death. A burgundy calla lily was given to me a few years back for Mother’s Day. It has since spread quite a bit.” The 16-year duration of the writer’s peace lily (Spathiphyllum), a classic indoor plant, is a testament to its suitability as a garden ornamental, as long as it grows in a protected location. Keep in mind that West Covina is located in the San Gabriel Valley, where scorching summer heat is common.
A corroborating email where success with indoor plants has been demonstrated in a protected outdoor location comes from Greg Fitze in Long Beach. He has pathos (Epipremnum pinnatum) and arrowhead plant or Nephthytis (Syngonium podophyllum) luxuriating in pots on his front porch, while a hanging basket of Swedish ivy or creeping Charlie (Plectranthus verticillatus) displays long pendulous chains of waxy, shiny, deep green leaves.
Karen Hong’s benign neglect of a burgundy calla lily hybrid is instructive regarding its habitat. Bath colorful calla lily hybrids (Zantedeschia hybrida) and common white calla lily (Zantedeschia aethiopica) are native to South Africa. Yet while the white calla is a rhizomatous riparian plant, growing not only on riverbanks but directly in marshes and streams, the hybrids grow from bulbs on dry slopes. I once tried growing the hybrids but made the mistake of assuming that, like white calla, they needed moist soil; they soon died from overwatering. Colorful hybrid callas resemble many bulb plants whose soil is best kept dry once flowers have withered and leaves have turned brown.
In addition, Karen Hong sent a photo of a flower I had never seen before that also grows from a bulb. Native to Mexico, it goes by the name of Aztec lily (Zephyranthes formosissima). The bloom has six red segments, three arching upwards, and three drooping down. In the manner of paper white narcissus, amaryllis (Hippeastrum) and gladiolus, I have learned that, once planted, you can just forget about this species as its flowers return reliably year after year. As to its light and soil preferences, the writer states: “I have clumps of it growing in my front yard and the ones that bloomed this year are in the drier part of the yard. The ones in the shadier and damper part of the yard didn’t bloom at all.”
A reader in the South Bay wants to know why his pistachio tree does not bear nuts. Since the nut-bearing pistachio species (Pistacia vera) is dioecious, meaning male and female flowers appear on separate trees, one of each was planted. The problem is that pistachio trees require 900 hours of winter chill to flower properly and produce nuts, while the South Bay only receives 250 hours of winter chill, the number of hours between 32 and 45 degrees from October 1 to February 28. Curiously enough, one of the trees that provides spectacular fall color even in low-chill areas like the South Bay is Chinese pistachio (Pistacia chinensis). It produces a symmetrical dome at a mature height of 30-40 feet, showing off brilliant scarlet, orange, and gold foliage before it drops in late November.
Last but not least, Mike Davison, who gardens in Toluca Lake, sent this observation of monarch butterfly behavior: “About a month ago, I was sitting in my backyard reading when I suddenly saw two majestic monarch butterflies flitting back and forth between an oak tree and a milkweed. One of them came down from the tree and was perched atop the milkweed. Shortly thereafter, the other one flitted down and perched beside the first one. When I looked up from my book a few minutes later, both monarchs were on the ground at the base of the milkweed. I was about to walk over and see if they were alright when one flew up with the other grasping its body and wings into the oak, where I lost sight of them. I assume that I had seen monarchs mating.”
Your assumption is correct. Monarch mating is initiated by males that actively seek out females, nudging them down to the ground. Once there, the male locks up with the female. While bonded together in this way, the male typically takes flight and brings the female up into the canopy of a tree, where, protected from predators, they can continue their coupling, which may last up to 16 hours. At the conclusion of this event, the female descends onto a milkweed to lay her eggs.
Biodiversity in Urban Gardens
The California Native Plant Society has launched BUG (Biodiversity in Urban Gardens), a program aimed at mapping California natives and the wildlife that visits them. All you need is an iPhone or digital camera and an interest in native plants to participate. Liv O’Keeffe, senior director of public affairs for the California Native Plant Society, explains that “through community scientist observations made in California, BUG participants will gather crucial data about the relationship between native plants and native insects, birds, reptiles, and mammals.” Presumably, the community scientists being enlisted in this effort are you and me, and our observations are to be shared on iNaturalist.org, a worldwide repository for flora and fauna images, with millions of followers representing 95% of all countries globally. There is no charge to view images on the site or to upload your own. To find BUG most easily on this site, go to cnps.org/education/bug. When you get there, scroll down until you find two links, one for home and neighborhood gardens in California and the other for public gardens in this state.
Do you have a story from your garden to tell? If so, please send it to joshua@perfectplatns.com for possible publication here. Your questions and comments, as well as garden successes and conundrums, are always welcome.
California native of the week
Blue-eyed grass (Sisyrinchium bellum) and yellow-eyed grass (Sisyrinchium californicum) deserve a place in your garden, if only because of their laissez-faire self-sustaining presence, propagating through their death-defying rhizomes and their seeds’ penchant to self-sow. The culmination of both species’ bloom occurs at the end of June, although blue-eyed grass has been flowering since January, and yellow-eyed grass only started blooming last month. They do need regular water to thrive, but you will be rewarded with small but decorous, six-petaled, star-shaped flowers in purplish blue or golden yellow. These are not actually grasses, but members of the iris family (Iridaceae).