Red Cactus for a Blue Moon

My patio table usually has a plant of some sort acting as a centerpiece, but a couple of months ago I decided to make up an arrangement of “Moon Cactus.” This is not a manifestation of my taste and style in decorating; I just wanted something quirky and humorous to look at.

The name, Moon Cactus, is a commercial name that seems to appeal to kids, who are probably the No.1 fans of these bizarre specimens, beating out the second largest group--vacationers picking up last minute souvenirs in airport gift shops across the Southwest.

Moon Cacti are not a genus. They are result of a cactus graft. The colored tops are not normal—the colors occur because the cactus does not produce chlorophyll. The combination is necessary because the top cannot survive without chlorophyll and the bottom supplies it. Usually the colored top of the joined specimen is a Gymnocalycium mihanovichii var. friedrichii and the bottom a Hylocereus trigonus, but there are also other combinations in many colors.

My little arrangement will never see direct sunlight because the sun would fade out the color. The colored part is also easily sunburned, so this little grouping will live under my patio for the rest of its natural life.

The moon is at her full, and riding high, Floods the calm fields with light. The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all asleep to-night.

~ William C. Bryant

The moon will turn full on May 31, 9:04 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time.

Prickly Problem

Beavertail Prickly Pear Cacti (Opuntia basilaris) pads are normally four to eight inches long and wide and are shaped like a beaver’s tail. Occasionally, the pads can reach 13 inches long, which means my Beavertail is quite peculiar. It has wavy pads, scalloped pads, round pads, and taco-shaped pads, but not one pad shaped like a beaver’s tail. Some of its pads are 26 inches wide and 18 inches long. Moreover, it has never flowered.

Beavertails are known for their abundant flowering, even on a single pad plopped into the soil just months before. This specimen started in my garden as one pad two years ago. Rather than flower, it adds improbably--shaped pads, and now has over 30!

Beavertails are a sprawling variety of Opuntia and usually stay under two pads tall. This one is now three pads tall at two years old. Not one pad has dropped. The pads are really quite attractive with their unusual shapes and their distinctive purple outlines, but I chose this variety of Opuntia strictly for its bloom potential. The flowers on the Beavertail are a gorgeous pink to fuchsia, and I placed my specimen where I could see those expected flowers from my family room window--flowers that have never arrived.

Since there are no flowers, I suppose I could eat the pads. Opuntias have been used for food for centuries. With the size of the pads on this specimen, I could feed a crowd! The pads, or Napoles, are a vegetable that tastes a bit like green pepper, and the pears, which form from the flowers, are a fruit that is reminiscent of watermelon. The pears are called Tunas, and both the pads and pears are common in grocery stores in the Southwest. Already diced pads, or Napolitos, are also readily available. For the adventurous, Gourmet Sleuth explains everything you never wanted to know about cooking and eating Prickly Pear.

The one thing normal about this specimen is its abundant glochids, which caused some grief once when I bumped into it. The glochids are made up of thousands of miniscule stickers that cling tenaciously to skin. The more you rub, the worse it gets. Because there are no spines, they look harmless enough, but these invisible stickers are worse than most spines!

I have checked with cacti specialists at the Desert Botanical Garden to find out if my Beavertail is a mutant, or if the problem with the weird pads and lack of flowers is environmental. No one wants to hazard a guess, so I guess I'll just enjoy its inimitability.

Round and Round She Goes

Every garden needs a little something besides vegetation to beautify, enhance and personalize the space, barring objections from HOAs and grumpy neighbors. I have this, along with far too many other little whimsies here and there, peeking out from various spots in my backyard garden.

This copper and steel kinetic wind sculpture is my favorite nonliving thing in the garden. Balanced in such a way that the cups catch even the slightest breeze, the two sides spin in opposite directions and the whole thing rotates 360 degrees. It is a delight to watch and it is silent, so there is no noise competition for my second most favorite inanimate object, wind chimes! The wind sculpture is useful too, because I can tell which way and how strong the breeze is in an instant. For some reason, I like to know which way the wind is blowing.

I first saw these at the El Prado Gallery in Tlaquepaque Village in Sedona about 10 years ago, and although I was taken with them immediately, back then I couldn't justify spending that kind of money on "yard art." On each trip to Sedona, I would stop at the gallery and marvel at the display of dozens of wind sculptures, all works of Lyman Whitaker, and imagine one of them spinning furiously in my garden.

In May 2006 I visited several open gardens during the Sedona Garden Tour. The gardens were lovely and their views breathtaking, and three of the gardens had one or more of Whitaker's wind sculptures strategically placed to highlight the views and gardens. Well, that did it for me. After completing the tour, I stopped at the gallery and purchased a sculpture after an hour of debate--not on whether to spend the money (that ship had sailed) but rather, which model to choose. I chose the Double Spinner model because of its size (90") and its simple movement. Once home, setting it up took minutes, and I have never regretted purchasing it. I've spent many hours watching it spin, and marvel when it does not, which is rare.

If you haven't seen Whitaker's works, check out the Wilford Gallery website and look under Sculptors. Their site shows Whitaker's various wind sculptures in motion. They are fascinating, hypnotic works of art.

Moment of Remembrance

Day is done
Gone the sun
From the Lakes
From the hills
From the sky.
All is well,
Safely rest.
God is nigh.
Fading light
Dims the sight
And a star
Gems the sky,
Gleaming bright
From afar,
Drawing nigh,
Falls the night.
Thanks and praise,
For our days,
Neath the sun,
Neath the stars,
Neath the sky,
As we go,
This we know,
God is nigh.

Hang On Little Tomato...

There are 16 tomatoes left on this bedraggled, lopsided plant purchased in early March at Lowe's, already potted and complete with a wire cage support. It was a bargain--only $11.99, and it already had a couple of tiny tomatoes and plenty of flowers. So far, I've harvested 33, so by the time these last ones ripen, my cost per tomato will have been about a quarter. I'm not much of a vegetable gardener, but I do like fresh tomatoes, so I buy one of these instant plants every year at the home improvement center and they have always done well. This one didn't have a label so I don't know what variety it is. The tomatoes are very sweet with low acidity. I prefer a little bit more tang, but they are certainly better than tasteless grocery store tomatoes. Now that we are having 100 degree-plus days, this plant is on its last legs. If I can keep it going just two more weeks, those last tomatoes will ripen on the vine and then I'll send it off into the sunset.

Here is my backup plan to continue having fresh tomatoes all summer. It is an AeroGarden, a Christmas gift from my son that has provided three different types of crops so far. The AeroGarden is a device that grows plants without soil, just water and nutrients that continually flow over the roots. No muss, no fuss, and perfect for someone like me who doesn't have much interest in maintaining a vegetable garden. I'm currently growing tomatoes, but I've had crops of salad greens and basil before starting the tomatoes. The salad greens mix included seven different varieties of lettuce, and there were plenty of greens for two small salads daily for over six weeks. The international basil crop produced seven different types of basil, more basil than we were able to use. The cherry tomato crop pictured here is now six weeks old. It will be awhile before I have any tomatoes from these plants as the tomato crop takes about 14 weeks from start to harvest. (The tomatoes in the photo are from my potted tomato plant.)

I love to watch the daily progress of the plants, and the AeroGarden doesn't look bad on the kitchen counter. It is a gift that just keeps on giving.

Bean Counting

The 12 Chilean Mesquites (Prosopis chilensis) in my garden have formed their beans, and by June, tons of ripe beans will be littering my landscape. We chose the Chilean Mesquites because they are very fast growing and we needed shade quickly. In hindsight, I realize that having so many is going to present more than a few problems, not only because of the litter, but also as they mature they will need major pruning that we will not be able to do ourselves. Our mesquites are already too tall to pick the unripe beans while they are still in bunches. As the beans ripen, they will drop individually, so I will have to wait until then to start the cleanup--just in time for the sweltering monsoon season! If I had any interest in using the beans, Desert Harvesters provides some neat facts about mesquites, and ways to use mesquite bean flour in recipes.

I have two other tree varieties in my landscape, and they too are very messy. The Desert Museum Palo Verdes, (Parkinsonia Hybrid 'Desert Museum') are advertised as low litter, but they are long and heavy bloomers and the dried flowers around the trees are an inch deep right now! Willow Acacia, (Acacia salicina) drops pods and seeds all summer, and then its dried little puff balls in fall and winter. All this litter dropped on gravel is tough to clean up. Unfortunately, I like a litter-free landscape!

Tamarisk--The Big Ugly

This monstrous Tamarisk tree, (Tamarix aphylla) also called Athel Pine, is located near Goodear Arizona, and is at least 50 feet tall and 50 feet wide. Imported to the United States beginning about 1850, the Tamarisk was used as an ornamental plant and as erosion control. The tree in this photo is probably 75 years old, and is able to transpire about 400 gallons of water a day, or, the weight of its foliage every hour at 80 degrees. It has a deep taproot that can extend 100 feet or more in depth, with lateral roots that reach out 150 feet or more.

These trees were common when I was a kid--almost every farm had several. They were mistakenly called Tamaracks, but the Tamarack (Larix laricina) is a different genus altogether and doesn't grow in the low desert. Tamarisks were originally planted in the West Valley the 1920s and 1930s as windbreaks and fast growing shade, but that was before folks realized the extent of the thirstiness and invasiveness of this species. The trees were slowly eliminated in more populated areas, although stands can still be found here and there. The Tamarisk's cousin, the Saltceder (Tamarix ramosissima) has decimated riparian areas throughout the Southwest. Athel Pine may be sterile but it can hybridize with Saltceder, so it is still a threat to native vegetation.

I've always thought these monsters were ugly. They thrive in alkaline soil because the tree expires the salt through its leaves, which then drops around its canopy. The heavy salt content in the surrounding soil prevents anything else from growing around it, and the soil gets very powdery all around the tree. Birds and wildlife don't even like it.

We had several of these trees growing on our childhood farm. My dad tried everything to get rid of them--from burning the stumps after the trees had been chain-sawed down, blasting the stumps, and finally, trying to pull out the stumps with a tractor. Nothing worked, so he gave up and just trimmed off the new growth that was constantly sprouting up from the stumps. He would have had to use a giant bulldozer or herbicides to kill the monsters. Nothing else works.

Developers have been building all around the tree in the photo, so I doubt it will be around much longer. I'd like to watch the removal process on this one! It should be quite a production. I, for one, will be glad to see it go.

Prepping For Rain

Keeping a rain log in the Phoenix area is like striking out the pitcher—it is almost too easy. That was one reason I decided to participate in the community-based rainfall-monitoring network developed at the University of Arizona by Sustainability of semi-Arid Hydrology and Riparian Areas (SAHRA) and the Arizona Cooperative Extension. With our average yearly rainfall of about seven inches, monitoring won't be a labor intensive proposition!

By volunteering, I will be reporting daily rainfall totals on my property, which will fill in a gap on the map maintained on the Rainlog.org website. Very localized thunderstorms during monsoon season can lead to heavy rain in one area, and just down the road, there will be no rain at all. By having participants all over the Valley recording daily rainfall totals at their locations, water managers, drought planners, weather reporters and scientists can get a more accurate picture of rain patterns.

It was a snap for my husband to mount the recommended Tru-Chek rain gauge, and now I can start my online reporting duties. It will be fun to check the website when we finally get some rain. For the first time I'll be able to see the variations without having to depend on the TV weatherman.

Community-based rainfall monitoring is going on across the Southwest, sponsored by various organizations in the different states. Rainlog is the place where all this happens.

Tree Atrocity

I saw this sad sight in the parking lot of the restaurant where we had dinner this evening. The rubber hose material and tie wire is cutting into the tree and strangling it. This type of trunk girdling is common in public areas and it always disturbs me.

This and the butchering of shrubs into unnatural shapes do not point to competent landscapers. One would think that the landscapers would notice such trunk girdling during their routine maintenance, but I’ve seen three-year-old trees still staked—with the stakes actually grown into the tree.

Be kind to your newer trees and remove stakes and ties after one year. Many smaller trees don't even need staking. Over watered desert trees can grow too rapidly and may need staking for longer periods, so vigilance is necessary to prevent girdling, which cuts off water and nutrients to part of the tree. Girdling also weakens a tree so that it breaks easily with too much weight or movement. Staking also causes weak trees because the trees can’t move freely. Trees need movement to develop strong trunks. I'm speaking from personal experience--our Mesquites and Palo Verdes grew too rapidly and we have had several broken branches and weak trunks. We were amazed at how quickly the ties tightened and began cutting into the trees. We had to check the ties and loosen them every two weeks during the growing season.

If you see sights such as the one in the photo, check with the business owner to find out who owns the property and who hires the landscapers. Call the proper authority and report the problem. Many municipalities encourage this. With just a call, you may save many trees from strangulation. More trees could be saved this way than by cutting back on paper towels, as suggested by environmentalists!

Roadkill!

There is a good reason for the common name of this cactus. Roadkill Cactus (Consolea rubescens) is as flat as a pancake, or, flat as road kill. I doubt I would have purchased this cactus had it been known by any other name. Its appearance and the novelty of its name struck me as quite funny, so home it came. I still smile when I look at it.

A native of the Caribbean Islands and Florida, it is not often found in the Phoenix area because of its frost sensitivity, need for afternoon shade and need for higher humidity than found here. My specimen will remain in a container because of its environmental needs. I keep it on the east side of my patio, and can shelter it in the winter months.



Although it can grow into a 20-foot tree, mine has not grown more than an inch in over a year. Maybe our low humidity has something to do with its slow growth. I can’t find any information on expected growth rates, but then, I don’t care how slow it grows. Its value is in its novelty, not its potential size.

Visitors to my garden do not find the same humor in this cactus as I do, but then some people do not appreciate the humor of cartoonist Gary Larson. To me, the Roadkill Cactus seems like something Gary Larson would have dreamed up for one of his cartoons.

Symbol of Summer

My Sunflower (Helianthus annuus) bloomed today. When I was a kid, I thought Sunflowers were weeds. I never saw them growing in a garden, only on irrigation ditch banks, along roadways or in alfalfa fields. It never occurred to me to add them to my garden, but someone gave me a package of seeds, so I planted three seeds, just for old time's sake. I didn't want any more because Sunflowers require more water than the other varieties of flowers I have in that planting area. In addition they attract birds that eat the seeds that form in the flower's center and I didn't want a mess on my sidewalk.

There is something sweet and old-fashioned about a Sunflower. It is the state flower of Kansas, and it grows throughout North America. What I always thought of as a weed is actually a plant of many uses. It provides a healthy cooking oil, animal food, silage, and those familiar sunflower seeds the birds and we eat. Sunflowers are, I think, the perfect symbol that summer has arrived.

"What is a weed? A weed is a plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered."
~ Emerson

Cactus With Nine Lives

Now and then, a cactus comes along that stands out from the rest. Among the over 100 potted cacti I have in my garden, this Gymnocalycium baldianum is special. This little guy has been through cacti hell.


I found this cactus five years ago at Home Depot. It was in a cracked four-inch plastic container, on sale for a buck. I think it was on sale because it appeared half-dead, and since this species of Gymnocalycium is common, there were many other G. baldianum specimens for customers to choose. The future did not bode well for this one. I potted it, and it languished through the first year, never quite recovering from its initial emaciated appearance. It had three heads, and one didn't look bad, so I tried separating it from the sickly heads with no luck. I decided to put it down--and threw it in the trash. The next day I thought better of it, dug it out of the can and gave it a second chance. After that near death experience, this cactus seemed to get a second wind and began growing. It flowered that spring. It has also been through two pot crashes, a woodpecker mauling and has lived (and thrived) to tell the tale. Well, I'm telling the tale--the G. baldianum does not talk.

This cactus is an olive green, prolific bloomer. Commonly known as Dwarf Chin, the little indentations between the areoles bring to mind a tiny chin. The flowers begin in April and usually last until mid-September.
Baldianums can produce red, orange, pink or white flowers. My specimen has flowers that range from a salmon color to light pink, depending on the age of each flower. I regularly see three or four distinct flower colors on this same plant. Another thing I've noticed is that the flower color changes slightly from year to year. Last year, the flowers were an orangey shade, this year, pink. I've stylized this photo in PS Elements, but the color range is clearly visible.

The globes on my specimen range from two to four inches, depending on age. On this species, the largest globes stay around three inches in diameter, so mine is a bit larger than normal. Because of its history, this little guy has a place of honor in one of my fancier wrought iron plant stands, rather than relegated to the patio floor with the other cacti. I think it rewards me for my rescue efforts--and forgives the trash episode--by producing more flowers each year.

A Garden Anniversary

Today is the second anniversary of the start of my garden. It began as a barren, weed-strewn half-acre back yard, but with a good bit of money, a lot of hard work, some mistakes, a few disappointments and adjustments, it has grown into a beautiful area to enjoy, with the promise that it will be even better with time.
This is just one section of my garden, but it is representative of the other areas in growth, if not theme. I've tried to develop three distinct areas in the back yard, one a lush and colorful area with native shrubs and flowers, the second with plenty of cacti and succulents, and the third, a tropical retreat.

Unfortunately, the prolonged hard freeze we suffered in January wreaked havoc on the tropical section, so I've decided not to repeat that mistake again, but I’ve yet to decide what I’ll do with it. Many plants in that area are still doing well, but with the loss of five good-sized Ficus Trees (Ficus microcarpa var. nitida) along with a Spicy Jatropha, (Jatropha integerrima) Tree Aloe (Aloe arborescens) Ponytail Palm, (Beaucarnea recurvata) and eight Natal Plums, (Carissa macrocarpa) it looks somewhat barren.

One thing I know for sure I won't do is spend any more money on 24-inch box trees. The larger size is not worth it—especially considering the three 15-gallon trees I purchased have just about caught up in size with the boxed trees, and the boxed trees cost ten times more than the 15-gallon trees. Boxed trees are also more likely to be root bound in the box, and because of their size, it's hard to determine if root girdling has started. Boxed trees also need prolonged staking because the trunks can’t support the larger crowns. Prolonged staking delays trunk development. Trunk movement is required to develop the tapered trunks necessary to support a tree.

The struggles we've had with staking and re-staking, repeatedly adjusting the ties to prevent girdling the trunk, and all the other problems that have come with the boxed trees, if I had to do it over, I would buy one mature field-grown tree to use where shade is needed most, and fill in with 15-gallon trees.

Figgy Memories

My grandparents established, in the early part of the twentieth century, a true oasis in the desert on their homestead in about 35 miles west of Phoenix, growing many things that others believed at the time wouldn't grow in this climate. A citrus orchard dominated the acreage near the house, with rows of grapefruit, tangerine, lemon, navel orange and Valencia orange trees. Almond trees lined the lane leading to the house and an entryway arbor was covered with a pink climbing rose. Queen's Wreath covered a patio that spanned the length of the house, and several walnut trees, date palms, a pomegranate and a goldfish pond surrounded the side entry. There was a vineyard, a vegetable garden, beehives, chickens, turkeys, dairy cows, and occasionally a lamb or a goat, and one lone Mission fig tree!


That fig tree (Ficus carica) provided the grand kids with treats every June and October. At the time, we didn’t know that the June crop, called the breba crop, and was the smaller crop of the two, or that Spanish explorers introduced figs to the Southwest. One thing we did know from experience was that the figs had to be ripe when picked, because saving them for another day wouldn’t ripen an immature fig. We also knew that ripe figs eaten directly off the tree were the best treats in the world.





Last year I planted a 5-gallon Brown Turkey fig in my garden. I hesitated about buying it—it was almost $100—but the nurseryman assured me that the Brown Turkey, a small hardy variety, was the best choice for the low desert (Figs originated in the Mediterranean, so many varieties do well here.) He said for good fruiting I should severely prune it each winter for a heavy main crop. I was glad to hear that because I wanted to keep it small.

With Ficus carica there’s no worry about pollination as edible figs are self-pollinating. The “seeds” that give the fig its gritty texture are not really seeds, but actually unfertilized ovaries. Yikes! Besides tasting so good, figs are a good source of calcium, magnesium, iron, Vitamin B6, and potassium. They are low in fat and two figs provide seven grams of fiber, more than any other common fruit or vegetable. And, even better, three medium figs contain only 110 calories.

Last week I found a ripe fig the size of nickel on the breba crop of my tiny tree. That first taste of fig from my garden reminded me of all the wonderful times we had as kids, picking figs at my grandmother’s desert oasis.

Sanctuary

There are points of time, of distant memory, when the soul unites within the pattern of the universe. That union brings forth the understanding of life's harmony. So it should be within the garden

~ Author Unknown

Persistence Doesn't Alway Pay Off

For several mornings now, I’ve had to deal with debris in the form of large twigs, Mesquite leaves and Acacia pods covering a good-sized area of my patio. I knew from experience the debris was from a bird, but I couldn’t figure out where it was trying to build a nest. This morning I finally spotted it—a Mourning Dove sitting on a few twigs atop a metal scupper near the roof of my house. I watched for a while, and each time the bird flew away, debris dropped and the nest was ruined. Each time, the bird would start over, delivering more twigs to its chosen spot, and then the same thing would happen again. Last night we had a good wind and what nest building that had been done the day before was completely destroyed, the evidence all over my patio. I noticed the dove had again started to rebuild.

Mourning Doves are not good nest builders to begin with and choosing the wrong spot for a poorly built nest is a recipe for disaster. I read that the male dove chooses the nest site and starts cooing until the female comes and gives her approval and they both start building. Another gal lead down the proverbial primrose path!

Building a nest on a metal scupper is not the thing to do, especially in mid-May in Arizona. Usually Mourning Doves nest in early spring, so perhaps this pair is not thinking straight. By the time any eggs hatched--if it ever got to that stage-- it would be early June and much too hot on a metal scupper for baby birds, especially with no protection from the wind. I can’t imagine baby birds lasting past the first breeze or a 110-degree day.

According to studies, most Mourning Dove nests are unsuccessful. I can understand that statistic by watching this pair with all their bad construction, poor location choice and their repeated attempts with the same results. At the risk of incurring the wrath of bird lovers, I can see where the term “bird-brained” originated. Nevertheless, despite all the perils and trials suffered by Mourning Doves, there are plenty of them. It’s estimated that there are over 500 million Mourning Doves in the United States.

I hope the dove figures out BEFORE she lays her eggs that her nesting plan is destined for failure. If she doesn’t, I'll be cleaning up smashed eggs on my patio instead of nest debris, or worse yet, babies who didn't have a chance from the beginning.

Ebay Oddity

Several years ago before I became acquainted with the various species and forms of cacti, I saw a small, crested bare root Mammillaria species for sale on Ebay. Its unusual form, something I had not seen before in a Mammillaria, caught my fancy. I bid too much and won the cactus. When it arrived, I potted it up in an eight-inch pot, which it quickly outgrew that first summer, and after the second year, I placed it in my garden. As it grew and became even more wavy, I became interested in the reasons for cristation in cacti.

Most any variety of cacti can have a crest formation, It's been reported in 50 genera so far. Cristation occurs when the cells on the growing tip multiply erratically and form multiple growing points rather than the normal single growing point. This is a simplistic explanation, but anyone who is interested enough in cacti variations to pay $69.95, Rainbow Garden Bookshop has a book worth reading. It’s called “Teratopia: Cristate & Variegated Succulents” by G. Rowley (2006).

Some experts estimate that only one seed out of ten thousand will display a cristate form. No one knows why this happens. Experimenters have tried to duplicate nature and force such growth thorough mechanical or environmental damage to the growing tip, but without luck. Some have even tried radiation or insect infestation in order to better understand what causes the deformity.

Cristate cacti are considered more fragile than normal, and it is suggested they be pampered because of their increased sensitivity to light, drought, cold and pests. However, my Mammillaria sp. does fine in full sun and has thrived through drought as well as the record cold of this past winter.

When my Mammillaria sp. is in bloom, the crested portion has densely spaced pink flowers along each side and ends of the fanned portion. The normal globes all have the familiar ring of flowers near the top of the globe. Many cristate forms do not flower regularly and the blooms are sometimes sparse, so I'm lucky to have a good bloomer.

My Mammillaria sp. is now quite large and obviously loves its home in my garden. I’ve added several more cristate varieties to my cacti collection but all are sun sensitive, so they’ll remain potted oddities on my patio.

Gardening is an exercise in optimism. Sometimes,
it is a triumph of hope over experience.
- Marina Schinz

Pineapple Guava -- A Plant For All Seasons

I am a real fan of spring garden tours, sometimes traveling many miles to visit appealing gardens across Arizona. One plant missing in most of the gardens I have visited is Feijoa sellowiana, or Pineapple Guava. It is one of my garden favorites and with all its virtues I am surprised that it is not used more extensively in low desert gardens.

Pineapple Guava is an attractive, evergreen shrub with thick, leathery green leaves that are silvery underneath. It can take the shape of a small 15 ft by 15 ft tree, espaliered, pruned into a dense hedge or screen, or grown in a large pot. It is native to subtropical Southern Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay and Northern Argentina but does amazingly well in the Phoenix area when planted in full sun, with just a bit of partial shade in the afternoon. My Pineapple Guava is located where the filtered shadow of a Palo Verde tree reaches it at the critical hour. It is cold hardy to 15˚F, and although young, my shrub sailed through the January freeze completely untouched.

Pineapple Guava is drought resistant once established, does not require much fertilizer and rarely has any pest or disease problems.

It flowers in late April or early May, with small blossoms that have bright red stamens and six white petals. The petals are somewhat sweet and make an interesting and attractive addition to salads. To produce fruit, Pineapple Guava requires 100-200 chilling hours below 45˚F, so don’t expect much fruit here. If you do want to try for fruit, you will need to buy cultivars selected for fruit production for this area, and those are not easily found. Pollination occurs with birds eating the petals, or by bees.

Also known as Acca sellowiana, Pineapple Guava is available at local nurseries, usually in five or 15-gallon containers. Some nurseries carry them already espaliered. I’ve talked with nursery people who say this plant is becoming more popular now that customers are learning that it really does do well here—come heat or cold.

I like this hardy, versatile plant so much I’ve taken to giving it as a gift to my gardening friends and relatives, who report they are as pleased with it as I am.

"A garden is never so good as it will be next year."~ Thomas Cooper

Beautiful Mistake

When planning my plant purchases, I carefully choose a bloom color that will work best in the spot I have picked for it. The desert abounds with yellow in the spring, so I wanted a cactus with purple-red blossoms to complement all that yellow, so I chose a Strawberry Hedgehog (Enchinocereus engelmannii.) It was more expensive than many of the other Hedgehog specimens, but I didn't care. It would be the perfect choice for its surroundings. My cactus bloomed, and here are the results. This is not a Strawberry Hedgehog as labeled by the nursery. I believe it to be a Texas Rainbow Hedgehog (Echinocereus dasycanthus,) and though the blooms are beautiful, I didn't need yet another yellow flower. When I called the nursery to complain, they said if I brought it in I could exchange it, but I just couldn't make myself dig up that cactus from its new home, just because it was the wrong color.
There must be a moral here.

"When gardeners garden, it is not just plants that grow, but the gardeners themselves."

- Ken Druse

It's Here--With a Vengeance!

No question about it, summer is here. It was 106 degrees today, fourteen degrees above average. Luckily I changed my irrigation controller yesterday so my garden was prepared for this record heat. Many folks never touch their controllers after their landscape is installed, especially if they don't have grass. Plants suffer from too much or too little water, depending on the season. Controllers should be adjusted in spring, summer, fall and winter for optimum plant care. I use a guide specifically for our Arizona desert.

"There is no spot of ground, however arid, bare or ugly, that cannot be tamed into such a state as may give an impression of beauty and delight."

- Gertrude Jekyll