Cistus and Sage in a Wildlife Garden

rock rose (Cistus salviifolius)

For years the rock rose (Cistus salviifolius) was a lush green plant with no flowers. It grew in dappled shade under an ornamental plum tree. For the past year, the tree has been gone and the rock rose has received more sunlight. This spring it is blooming for the first time in fifteen years. I had forgotten it's blooms were white.

Sometimes, you just have to be in the right place at the right time. You can survive and even do well, but one small change can transform existing to thriving. It is an important lesson to keep in the back of my mind. A moment in the garden always brings enlightenment and a new perspective. 

'hot lips' sage (Salvia microphylla)

While Cistus are not natives, as Mediterranean plants they are well suited to California's typical Mediterranean climate. There's another lesson: not every plant in the garden has to be a California native.  

The 'hot lips' sage (Salvia microphylla) is stunning this year. It's a North American native frequently visited by both our Allen's hummingbirds and valley carpenter bees.

The California natives continue to bring waves of beautiful blooms. The redbud has transformed to green leaves. It has passed the flower baton to the Douglas iris (Iris douglasiana). These native California iris have really rebounded with the winter rains. The garden speaks clearly if you listen: change is constant.

 
 I found three new Allen's hummingbird nests this weekend. More hummingbird stories to come.

Pocket Gopher - Villain or Hero?

Ahh! They are back. A pocket gopher has tunneled its way to the lower area of my front yard and undermined one of my native Douglas iris. In the past this area has been beyond their reach, but not any more.
 
Of course, the destructive gopher hones in on what it prefers, my native plants. 

The Douglas iris in the upper left is the current gopher target.

Previous gophers have eaten the roots and rhizomes right off of my native iris in the backyard. I’ve put metal screen boxes underground around plants. I’ve planted narcissus bulbs as alleged gopher deterrents. I’ve even joined my dog in digging them out. I curse the gophers, but they do have a purpose.

Our southern-California soil has a lot of clay. 

The gopher is kicking hard-packed clay up from under the sidewalk

This element of our soil was vital to the adobe bricks that built our missions and the clay tiles of Malibu and Catalina Tile Companies. The industrious, and hungry, pocket gopher tunnels through the hard soil searching out the roots of plants. 

As it builds its underground highway it aerates the soil and mixes the sediments. It creates underground pathways for water to flow and roots to follow. The gopher’s earthen works even provide a protected highway for other animals such as worms, arthropods and especially amphibians.

The underground tunnels of pocket gophers enable salamanders and frogs to travel in a moisture controlled environment without the threat of dehydration. Remember in southern California we have six or more months without rainfall. Gopher tunnels enabled California slender salamanders to travel from my backyard down into the lower areas of the front yard.

Even sections of collapsed tunnel create homes for western fence lizards and alligator lizards.

If only the pocket gopher would eat plants I don’t want. Well, here’s the rub, it is. The root and bulb of this noxious oxalis (an African invasive) has been sheared off by the gnawing teeth of the pocket gopher.  

underside of oxalis with root sheared right off

Living underground, pocket gophers were one of the few animals that survived the volcanic eruption of Mt. Saint Helens. Tunneling activity brought nutrient rich soil up through the volcanic ash layer creating opportunity for plants to reestablish. Just as in my yard, amphibians traveled back into oases of habitat through the gopher tunnels. When large animals, like elk came into the blast area from its edges, their feet broke through the gopher tunnels mixing soil with elk droppings thereby adding seeds and nutrients to the soil.

At Mt. Saint Helens, the pocket gopher is a hero. It would be a hero in my yard if...and here is the big if... if there were a medium-sized predator to control their overpopulating and devouring my entire garden. The coyote, red-tailed hawk and great horned owl seem to be focusing their efforts else where. That leaves me the task of being the predator controlling the gopher population. If the native iris are to survive–out comes the gopher trap.

Rain Comes to Dry California

 What a difference an inch of rain can make!

Saturday it rained for over six hours. The rain gauge measured an inch and a third of spring-awakening water. By the next day, the Douglas iris committed itself to bloom.

While we are still in need of five or more inches to bring us into the “normal” range of rainfall, this gentle winter shower has washed the dust from the leaves and prompted some of the plants to reach for spring.
The Douglas iris is a California native and like all of our other native plants responds rapidly to rainfall. The deep purple blooms typically open throughout April, this year they're a bit early. There are hybrids of this native that come in a variety of shades, from white to deep purple and burgundy. Interestingly, in our yard, it is always the original purple that blooms first and is the most robust. The blooms last for a month or so, depending on the rainfall. The slender green leaves are fibrous and deep in color, they survive both frost and drought. We’ve been most successful with them planted in partial shade.

Our biggest challenge comes on four-tiny legs; pocket gophers that like to lunch on the iris’s rhizomes. If I can keep the rodents at bay, the Douglas iris comes back in larger clumps each year. Even if you initially put them in the wrong spot, they transplant easily. The Douglas iris demonstrates the beauty and practicality of planting natives.

They say it may rain again tomorrow. The iris and I are hoping that is true.

Snail-Free Zone

Brown snails are an invasive non-native species in California. Everyone complains about them in their gardens. They poison them, step on them, even salt them. They were imported here as a food species, but they escaped and have been a problem in local gardens ever since.

They are a problem because most people water too much and grow non-native plants that snails have a taste for. When you try to grow an English garden in a Mediterranean climate you are creating a smorgasbord for brown snails.


When we first moved into our house the entire front yard was African daisies. In the spring and summer the slope was a beautiful array of purple and white. But, the African daisies were filled with snails and sow bugs. At night the snails would venture out from the daisies and devour everything else in the yard. The first couple of times I tried to grow vegetables, everything was eaten by snails.

We tried trapping them in beer, poisoning them with bait, even copper-covered stripping around plants we wanted to protect. The bait was probably the worst part because it was bad for other species as well. Of course the poison bait never worked completely and the subsequent generations seemed to tolerate it more and more, until it was useless.


Finally, I got disgusted. The hillside was eroding under the tangled vines. An area of African daisies died back, because of the snails, and I tore them out. In that small area we planted some native plants. We mulched these plants with bark and an amazing thing happened–the snails left that area and the biodiversity began to increase.

We stopped using poisonous bait and an alligator lizard moved in and started eating the snails.

Now our native Douglas iris are beautiful, drought tolerant, homes for a variety of native insects, they hold the soil, and there are no snails.

My Gardening with Intent action this week is to decide which section of African daisy I am removing next and what native species I will use to replant.