Succulents and More™

Crazy in the best way: what Kyle and I have been up to

2026-10-08T16:35:08.408-07:00

If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you know that my partner-in-crime Kyle and I have been working on something big behind the scenes. This post about our 36-hour trip to Santa Barbara in July may have given you some clues.

Closeout plants from San Marcos Growers Kyle and I brought home from our trip to Santa Barbara in July

So many new plants need room — room that Kyle and I definitely didn’t have.

That’s where luck came in.

Through sheer serendipity, things fell into place. Our friend Eric, who lives on a large rural property in West Sacramento less than a mile from the Sacramento River, agreed to rent us space in his partially unused greenhouse. That’s where our haul from San Marcos Growers went:

But our new space in Eric’s greenhouse isn’t just home to San Marcos plants. Kyle and I have brought over dozens (hundreds?) of plants from our respective backyard “nurseries.”

How the heck did we end up with all these plants?

Here’s a short video of our stock area with the mother plants that we’ll be propagating from:

And here are the plants we’re offering in our first-ever plant sale — everything from companion plants like plectranthus and tradescantia to aloes, agaves, hechtias, dyckias, echeverias, etc:

Our first plant sale will be on Halloween, Saturday, October 31, from 10 am to 2 pm. Most plants will be $5, $10, $15, or $20. Some rare plants, or larger specimens, will be priced a bit higher. Cash only.

Partners-in-crime

Our plant sale will be in conjunction with Eric’s open garden, featuring cacti and succulents in repurposed metal containers. Remember my post from June? Eric has expanded his collection since then. There’ll be lots to see, like-minded people to talk to you, and even some refreshments.

If you live in Northern California (or happen to be there on October 31) and would love to come by, please email me and I’ll send you the address.

As an extra incentive, the UC Davis Arboretum will have their first public sale the same day, Saturday, October 31, from 9 am to 1 pm (more info here). You could swing by their sale first and then head over to see us in West Sacramento, a 25-minute drive from the Arboretum Teaching Nursery. Officially, our sale goes from 10 am to 2 pm, but we’ll be around if you arrive a little later.

Kyle and I are lucky in that we’re not in this for the $$$. Our goal is to bring landscape-ready succulents to Northern California. Most of the plants we have are simply not available in mainstream nurseries, and we want you to give them a new home in your garden.

This sale, our first, is an experiment. If all goes well, we’ll have another one in the spring. Gerhard has been propagating a lot of echinopsis, and many of them will be available then. And Kyle has been working on a number of aloes that would make perfect landscape specimens.

Here’s a preliminary list of plants we’ll have available in our October 31 sale:

I’ll post another reminder closer to the sale date, but here are the 3 W’s:

WHEN:

Saturday, October 31, 2026, 10 am to 2 pm

WHAT:

Kyle and Gerhard’s first plant sale
Eric’s open garden

WHERE:

West Sacramento (email me for address)

It would be wonderful to see some of you there!

Sometimes sad San Francisco succulents

2026-10-06T18:11:36.448-07:00

Last Sunday my wife and I visited our friend Tim in San Francisco. An accomplished painter, he had an open studio at a space he shares with a few other artists. His studio is a 10-minute walk from the BART station at 24th and Mission. It’s just a few blocks, and yet I saw many succulents in front of apartments, along the sidewalk, in median strips.

San Francisco isn’t exactly the kind of climate most succulents thrive in. Typically, temperatures are in the 60s, often lower. Mild for sure, and good enough for a lot of temperate plants, but too cool for many succulents to thrive. But because they need so little, especially regular watering, many city dwellers gravitate towards them.

Of course I’m anthropomorphizing, but some of the succulents I saw on the short walk to our friend’s studio looked like they would rather be someplace else. Still, they’re hanging on, providing pops of green where most other plants would struggle.

Potted aloes with a few feet of trunk...

...those aren’t common sights in SF

Aeoniums appear to be the most common streetside succulents in SF

These don’t seem to get much water over the summer, but they should plump up when the rain returns in the fall

Jade plant (Crassula ovata) in a garbage can. That’s a metaphor for something...

Quite a fancy urn for this agave

In contrast, these succulents don’t look so hot

I have no idea who planted these aloes, aeoniums, and agaves in the median strip. I doubt it was done by the city of SF, so maybe a guerrilla gardening effort?

Good-looking Agave attenuata

These are the kinds of massive aeonium rosettes I expect to see in SF. More than any other succulent, aeoniums thrive in SF’s mild climate. It looks like a big rosette got snapped off. Maybe by a passer-by?

I have no idea which agave this is (maybe even a mangave?), but it looks rough. Mealybugs don’t help.

I have a feeling this is the extent of gardening for many apartment dwellers. Yeah, pretty soul-sucking.

As sad as some of the other succulents were, this aloe looked downright vigorous. Maybe because some caring soul gives it regular water? The two dog poop bags cracked me up.

Another happy Agave attenuata underplanted with a variegated plectranthus, also looking happy. Agave attenuata thrives in cooler coastal climates, like Santa Barbara and the Bay Area. If I lived there, I wouldn’t even bother with other succulents that want more heat, like aloes.

Speaking of thriving: This massive Yucca elephantipes has clearly found its happy spot.

I have no idea how old it is...

...but likely it’s been here for decades

I’ve never lived in a densely populated urban area like San Francisco, but the thought of gardening in this kind of environment is depressing to me. No offense to anybody, just my personal feelings.

Ending on a positive note: This Echeveria agavoides ‘Lipstick’ is about as perfect as it gets. Tim found it abandoned on the sidewalk and nursed it back to health. In addition to being an artist, he also has quite a green thumb.

Tim’s Echeveria agavoides ‘Lipstick’

Ponytail palm bed makeover

2026-10-02T13:12:40.139-07:00

Not every garden project has to be a major undertaking. In fact, most are small, completed quickly, but with immediate impact.

This post is a good example.

The area I’m talking about is next to the front door, so we walk by it multiple times a day. I’ve been low-grade dissatisfied with it for some time, but I didn’t have any specific plans. I don’t know what possessed me, but earlier this week, I decided to rip out the two out-of-control clumps at the base of the largest of our three ponytail palms (Beaucarnea recurvata): Oscularia caulescens (top) and Aloe × spinosissima (bottom). The Hechtia argentea on the right is one of my favorites, and it won’t go anywhere.

Oscularia caulescens (top) and Aloe × spinosissima (bottom) at the base of the largest of our three ponytail palms (Beaucarnea recurvata)

A slightly different angle:

A closer view:

Ground-level view:

For comparison, this what this spot looked like in March 2022:

March 2022

In the 4½ years since the photo above was taken, the caudex (base) of the ponytail palm has grown significantly, essentially pushing the plants in front of it off the mound into the walkway. At the same time, its expanding roots having been sucking up water and nutrients that previously had been available to the oscularia and the aloe.

I toyed with the idea of simply thinning out what was there, but I quickly realized the best (and most sensible) way to move forward was to rip everything out and start over. So that’s what I did:

This spot didn’t have a rock border, unlike most beds in the front yard, so the first step was to get more rocks and then shuffle them around until I had something I was happy with. The next step was replanting. When I started out, I assumed I would simply stick cuttings of Oscularia caulescens and Aloe × spinosissima in the soil (I had added two 5-gallon buckets of high-quality garden mix). But why cling to the status quo when you can do something different?

Here’s a wide-angle shot of the redone bed, with the three ponytail palms towering over it:

Left to right: Aloe betsileensis, Ananas ‘Mila’ (red leaves), Sedum ‘Firestorm’, Aechmea recurvata, Aloe ‘AJR’ (moved from all the way on the left, below Aloe betsileensis).

This is a small area, so there was only room for a few plants: Aloe betsileensis (left; same spot as before), ‘Mila’ dwarf pineapple (Ananas ‘Mila’), Sedum ‘Firestorm’ and Aloe dorotheae (both left in place), Aechmea recurvata, Aloe ‘AJR’ (right). I’m particularly excited about ‘Mila’. It’s a compact pineapple hybrid with deep red foliage that can take full sun and is remarkably drought-tolerant. And it’s hardy down to zone 8b (10°F). It may even fruit.

‘Mila’ pineapple in the front

Aloe ‘AJR’ used to be the all the way on the left (see photos above). Now it’s on the right, next to Aechmea recurvata — a much better spot with deeper soil. Aloe ‘AJR’ is a Kelly Griffin hybrid available from Altman Plants, the grower that produces the small succulents you see near the garden center entrance at virtually all Home Depot and Lowe’s stores.

Aloe ‘AJR’ on the right

The next photo might shock you. It was taken on March 17, 2009, the day after I planted the three ponytail palms from a two-gallon pot. So much has changed — in fact, everything is different now except for the ponytail palms.

Ponytail palms on March 17, 2009, the day after I planted them

For comparison, a few wider shots showing the bed today. The overhauled area is on the left, at the base of the largest ponytail palm.

Sometimes, when I look at older photos, it turns out that I like what was there before better than what is there now. Not in this case. The current iteration of this bed is the best it’s ever been. And that’s a deeply satisfying feeling.

This and that: late September 2026

2026-09-28T15:01:12.532-07:00

It’s official: Summer is over. The days are getting shorter, but to me, the most obvious sign of fall is the quality of the light: In the summer, the light is glaring and harsh. At this time of year, it’s noticeably warmer because the sun is lower in the sky.

I complain about the summer and the heat all the time during the summer, but at the cusp of fall, when summer is slipping away, I don’t want to let it go. Looking at the forecast for next week, it appears summer isn’t quite ready to fade away either: temperatures in the low to mid-90s for a solid week, starting tomorrow.

Sorry for the random introduction, but here’s the late-September edition of This and that.

BRUNSRYLLIS FLOWERING FOR THE FIRST TIME

No, “brunsryllis” isn’t a typo, nor is it a rare tropical disease. It’s a hybrid between two South African bulbs, Brunsvigia litoralis and Amaryllis belladonna. I’ve never seen a Brunsvigia litoralis in real life (it looks like this), but Amaryllis belladonna is the common naked lady.

The cross I have was made by Ken Blackford, whose San Diego garden I got to see in April 2025 (post here). It’s produced leaves in the winter for several years, but this is the first time it’s flowered. The flowers were definitely worth the wait.

×Brunsryllis (Brunsvigia littoralis crossed with Amaryllis belladonna) from Ken Blackford in San Diego, an expert grower and hybridizer of South African bulbs

The flower stalk looks so naked with no leaves around (they come later in the year after flowering is done)

×Brunsryllis flowers up close

LATE-SEASON CACTUS FLOWERS

Some of my echinopsis hybrids are now in their 5th or 6th wave of bloom since spring. Gotta love plants that don’t need much, yet produce flowers like these:

Echinopsis ‘Day Dream’

Echinopsis ‘Sleeping Beauty’

A FEW MORE RANDOM FLOWERS

I have no idea where this canna came from, but it’s welcome to live here. It’s a good 6 feet tall and produces flower after flower.

NOID canna in the strip between our house and our neighbor’s

A wider view of this area reveals more flowers:

Middle: Hechtia roseana ‘Mr Freckles’

The tall fluffy inflorescence belongs to Hechtia roseana ‘Mr Freckles’. It’s a regular bee magnet.

Hechtia roseana ‘Mr Freckles’

And to the right of the hechtia, a surprising sight:

Flower stalk from Agave parrasana ‘Globe’ × mitis ‘Nova’, a Nick Deinhart hybrid

A flower stalk from an agave hybrid created by Nick Deinhart, Agave parrasana ‘Globe’ × mitis ‘Nova’. It’s a beautiful plant (see here in January 2025), but it’s been swallowed up by the Mangave ‘Permanent Wave’ next to it. In fact, pretty much all you can see of it is the inflorescence rising above its vigorous neighbor:

Flower stalk from Agave parrasana ‘Globe’ × mitis ‘Nova’

Not every gardener likes a wild unruly look, but I let some plants do what they want, at least temporarily. This West Texas sage is one example. I like the way its rangy stems weave their way through the neighboring aloes, depositing pops of blue here and there:

West Texas sage (Salvia reptans)

Groundcovers are probably the most underappreciated plants in the garden. They bring so much to the table. The vignette below is a good example. The mangave is great, sure, but it looks even better combined with this creeping germander:

Gray creeping germander (Teucrium aroanium) in flower on the left, ×Mangave ‘Bloodspot’ × Agave oteroi, another great Nick Deinhart hybrid

Teucrium aroanium about as perfect as it gets

FIRST FALL ALOE BLOOM

Aloe flower season is still months away, but there are some early bloomers that give us a sneak peak of what’s to come. Here’s one of the first, a beautifully spotted Aloe labworana with an emerging inflorescence. The flowers will be yellow.

Aloe labworana with an emerging flower stalk

COOL NURSERY FIND

I haven’t been to nurseries much since late spring so there haven’t been many opportunities to discover cool things. But look what I found at Green Acres in Sacramento last week: a Joshua tree (Yucca brevifolia). I don’t think I’ve ever seen one for sale at a regular nursery before. I don’t really need a Joshua tree, nor will I live long enough to see it mature (its growth rate is ½ inch to 3 inches a year). But that didn’t stop me, so now I have my own little one:

Joshua tree (Yucca brevifolia)

For comparison, here are blooming-size Joshua tree specimens in northwestern Arizona near Jan Emming’s Destination: Forever Ranch where the Mojave and the Sonoran Desert meet:

Joshua trees in their native habitat in the Mojave Desert

TOO UNSIGHTLY TO BEAR?

I walk by this sight every day, and every day, I wonder how long I’ll be able to put up with it:

Aloe suprafoliata now

This sad thing is Aloe suprafoliata. It looked very different last December:

Aloe suprafoliata in December 2025

It was getting squished between the surrounding plants so in late spring, I decided to move it a few feet forward. Unfortunately, the leaves were so brittle, most of them broke. Now, after a long summer, what’s left is the sorry sight above. I’m tempted to dig it up and chuck it, but knowing what a beautiful plant it can be, I’m going to leave it in place through the winter in hopes it will recover.

SHORT AND TALL

This is another sight I walk by every day, and I don’t typically give it much thought. But yesterday I was struck by how comically small the ‘Hercules’ aloe looks next to the Yucca rostrata on the right. The aloe (actually a cross between Aloidendron ‘Hercules’ and Aloidendron barberae) will eventually reach 12 to 15 feet or more, potentially rising above the yucca, but it’s taking its sweet time to get there. Right now, it’s not even 4 feet.

Aloidendron ‘‘Hercules’ × dichotomum (i.e. ¾ A. dichotomum, ¼ A. barberae, for those of you keeping track) looking tiny next to...

...Yucca rostrata

RARELY SHOWN AGAVES

I try to showcase as many of the plants in the garden as possible, but there are some I seem to skip consistently. The corner of the L-shaped sidewalk bed — the 90-degree intersection where the two perpendicular sides meet — doesn’t get the attention it deserves. There are some nice plants there, especially Agave shawii on the right and Agave pelona in the center:

Agave pelona (center) and Agave shawii (right)

Of the three Agave pelona I have, this is the largest and most beautiful. Agave pelona is one of the slowest-growing agaves in my garden. It took 5+ years to get to where it is now, and it isn’t close to mature.

SEEDLINGS THAT RATS LOVE TO MOW DOWN

I’ve talked about our rat problem before. All year the buggers have been nibbling on succulents, usually cacti, but also lithops and even some agaves. The damage typically isn’t fatal, just cosmetic, but with slow-growing plants it takes years for them to outgrow it.

There’s something else beyond succulents the rats have been drawn to: seedlings from the hardy tapioca tree (Manihot grahamii) we used to have next to the house. We had it removed in the summer of 2024 and ended up redoing that area in January 2025. Two years later, we still have seedlings from the tapioca pop up. I’ve been potting them up to give away and to keep a few in pots around the garden (the leaves are spectacular). Except that rats mowed down every single one — not eaten, mind you, just chewed off above the soil line. I have no idea why. Fortunately, I found a few more seedlings recently. They’re now on the front porch table, hopefully safe from rats (I’ve never seen any rodent damage in the front yard).

Good news on the rat front: I’ve been diligent about keeping our electronic Rat Zapper trap baited inside the greenhouse and have caught 10 rats in the last three weeks.

Manihot grahamii seedlings; some are already producing the deeply lobed adult leaves I so love

SIGN OF THE SEASON

Another sure sign fall is here: the limes from the tree at the foot of the driveway are dropping and rolling into the gutter. Occasionally, we drive over one, and the smell is heavenly.

Limes in the gutter

STELLA

The days are still warm, but the nights are getting colder (it was 49°F when I got up this morning). Stella usually jumps up on the bed after I leave, and she appreciates being covered with a soft blanket. Hard to believe she was a street dog in Taiwan for the first six months of her life!

Stella comfy on our bed

Leaners

2026-09-24T15:38:21.260-07:00

Gravity is a good thing. But too much of a good thing is not so good anymore.

I’ve been battling an excess of gravity in the garden for a while. Here are the two most recent examples.

Yucca queretaroensis (or, more likely, a naturally occurring hybrid between Yucca queretaroensis and Yucca filifera) has become a signature plant in front of the house. It’s now over 7 ft. tall. But it’s not only grown in height, it’s also grown in lean. Call it the Leaning Yucca of Davis.

Yucca queretaroensis today

It gets plenty of sun, and yet it’s leaning towards the west as if to catch every last ray of sunshine. Lately, the lean has become more pronounced, as if gravity is pulling the (no doubt heavy) head down. I have no idea if (or when) it will eventually topple over, but it would definitely crush a few things in its path.

The plants inside the yellow oval would get flattened if the yucca fell

There’s nothing I do to make this Yucca queretaroensis straight. It’s simply too big and too heavy to stake or tie down.

It didn’t always have such a tilt. Three years ago it was ramrod straight:

Yucca queretaroensis in September 2023

Not far from the yucca is my biggest barrel cactus:

Ferocactus herrerae a few weeks ago

It, too, is tilting towards the sun, and gravity seems to be pulling it downward.

I bought in Palm Desert 15 years ago

Last year I shoved a big rock under it to prevent it from taking a nosedive.

Speaking of nosedive, two of my favorite flowering cacti did just that earlier this year. Here’s Echinopsis ‘Flying Saucer’ in April. It had nine big flowers (see here); maybe they were simply too heavy.

Echinopsis ‘Flying Saucer’ in April 2026

I’ve since then re-rooted and re-planted the stem that had snapped off. Fingers crossed it will flower next year.

Echinopsis ‘Flying Saucer’ in April 2026

The second one was the tallest stem of Echinopsis ‘First Light’. First it started to lean, which I tried to stop with a rock...

Echinopsis ‘First Light’ in June 2026

...and a couple of days later it snapped:

Echinopsis ‘First Light’ in June 2026

As with ‘Flying Saucer’ above, I successfully re-rooted it and planted it in the backyard.

A few more leaners (and fallers) from over the years. First, Aloe ‘Moonglow’:

Aloe ‘Moonglow’ in February 2026, too many flowers?

Second, Yucca rostrata between our house and our neighbor’s (what is it with these arborescent yuccas?):

Yucca rostrata in November 2025, just before we cut it down

Unlike the other examples, this Yucca rostrata was planted on level ground (not on a mound). It didn’t lean south or southwest, towards the sun, it tilted north, away from the sun — what’s up with that? We were afraid that it might eventually fall over and hit our neighbor’s garage, so we cut it down last November (detailed post here).

And finally a tree, a ‘Sonoran Emerald’ palo verde, originally planted in the L-shaped berm along the sidewalk:

Parkinsonia ‘Sonoran Emerald’ in May 2019, right after it had fallen into the street

The typical pattern: first the lean, then the nosedive. The tree was simply too heavy to stake so the tumble was inevitable. You can read about the cleanup here.

Many of our plants are on mounds or berms. Only some of them lean, others grow perfectly straight. I have no idea why. But I’ve become more proactive. When I spot the beginnings of a lean, I shove a rock under the plant to stabilize it. That does the trick, at least for a while.

Do you have any leaners, tilters, or topplers in your garden?

Hechtia vs agave: who wins?

2026-09-21T00:30:00.000-07:00

We once had a Great Dane named Cisco. We got him as a young puppy. Puppyhood didn’t last long. Within a year, he had tripled in weight. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was very loving (and lovable).

Cisco with my mother

Legs for days

For some reason, I thought of Cisco when I finally accepted the fact that the hechtia in the photo below was simply too big to live here:

Hechtia ‘Oaxaca Sunset’ reaching towards Agave impressa

This top-down view...

...illustrates the situation very well

It wasn’t always like that. Here’s Hechtia ‘Oaxaca Sunset’, on the right in all its compact-sized glory, in March 2023:

Hechtia ‘Oaxaca Sunset’ on the right (Lachenalia quadricolor, a South African bulb, on the left)

But, like Cisco, Hechtia ‘Oaxaca Sunset’ eventually grew up and ended up occupying more space than I had allotted (the fact that it formed a clump, rather than just one rosette, exacerbated the situation). Seeing how Agave impressa would always come out on top, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make: The hechtia had to come out to give Agave impressa room to breathe.

Now, lest you think I have elephant skin, I did put on protective gear: my ThornArmor 3092 gloves and arm protector sleeves my wife gave me a few years ago. My trusty cordless reciprocating saw made quick work of the task. In less than five minutes, I had cut off the large hechtia rosette that was encroaching on the Agave impressa:

To my surprise, the hechtia was planted in a heavy metal ring, not in the ground. I’d forgotten all about that, but it explained why it was so easy to remove the clump.

I ended up with a bunch of offsets. They don’t have roots yet, but they will root in their own time, measured in months, many months. (Again, patience, patience.)

The largest pup does have the beginnings of roots, and it’s already started to color up (this variety turns a vivid red in the winter):

What the spot looks like now:

I think I’ll put the largest pup back in the metal ring and start all over again. I did like how it looked originally.

SIDE NOTE: The fern on the left in the photo above looks so healthy at the end of summer! It’s a wavy cloak fern (now Astrolepis sinuata, previously Cheilanthes sinuata), a dryland fern native to the rocky cliffs and deserts of the southwestern United States south into Mexico and South America. It’s done exceptionally well, handling our heat and little water with aplomb.

ANOTHER SURPRISE: I found three bulbs to the right of the hechtia. I have zero recollection of planting these, but I must have. Kyle thinks they’re alliums (ornamental onions or garlic). They’re very much alive, so maybe we’ll know in a few weeks.

Oddly enough, a Google Lens search on the photo above apparently violated content guidelines? Seriously?

Sacramento area: Micro Paradox plant sale, September 25, 3:00-6:30 pm

2026-09-18T00:30:00.000-07:00

Six weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit Micro Paradox, a tissue culture lab in the Sacramento area. They propagate a wide variety of plants — everything from fruit and shade trees to shrubs, perennials, house plants, and succulents. Check out my post from early August to find out more about tissue culture and Micro Paradox and to see photos from our tour.

The bulk of Micro Paradox’s sales is wholesale to other growers and retail nurseries; a selection of their plants are available to consumers through their Etsy store and their MicroStarts retail website. In other words, you can’t just drive up to their facility and buy plants right then and there.

Except on Friday, September 25, you can. Micro Paradox will have a plant sale from 3:00 to 6:30 pm.

The sale will feature some of Micro Paradox’s unique agaves, houseplants, fruit trees, and more, as well as overgrown stock. There’ll also be a “fill-a-tray” promotion where folks are given a tray which they can fill with as many plants as they like. And there’ll be giveaways.

If you live in the Sacramento area, this is an event you don’t want to miss. Micro Paradox is located northeast of the airport, about 30 minutes from downtown. Even if you live a little further away, it should be worth the drive. I’ll be there!

WHAT: Micro Paradox plant sale

WHEN: Friday, September 25, 3:00 to 6:30 pm

WHERE: 3560 Sankey Road, Pleasant Grove (click here for MapQuest directions)

Mangave bulbil update: big success

2026-09-15T21:38:53.227-07:00

Here is one of my Mangave ‘Foxy Lady’ (I have two) in its prime, a year and a half ago:

Mangave ‘Foxy Lady’ in April 2025

In the spring, this ‘Foxy Lady’ started to flower. As is the case for the vast majority of agaves, manfredas, and mangaves (hybrids between the two), flowering is the end of the road. In most cases, the pollinated flowers become seed pods, but some varieties go a different way: They make bulbils on the flower stalk — baby plants that are genetic clones of the mother. Check out this post from early July to see the flower stalk on the Mangave ‘Foxy Lady’ above. It was laden with hundreds of bulbils.

As I mentioned in my July post, I pulled off a few bulbils as an experiment. They rooted very quickly, so on August 14, I began to harvest bulbils in earnest:

Harvesting ‘Foxy Lady’ bulbils on August 14

Some bulbils are fused together like this

I filled a seedling tray with a well-draining soil mix (50% garden soil, 50% lava rock) and then stuck the bulbils into it. Straightforward and completely low-tech.

Seedling tray filled with bulbils in well-draining soil mix

Fast-forward a month to September 12, 2026. Roots coming out of the bottom of the seedling tray Kyle is holding — that’s a very good sign!

I gently removed the rooted bulbils and potted them up in 3" pots. Kyle watered them in:

Here they are, ready to spread their fledgling wings and fly:

32 potted up ‘Foxy Lady’ bulbils

That’s batch #1, 32 individually potted ‘Foxy Lady’ bulbils. The photos above were taken on Saturday, September 12, 2026.

The next day, September 13, 2026, I harvested more of the bulbils still attached to the flower stalk:

Since there were so many, I discarded the runts and stuck the larger ones in another tray filled with well-draining soil mix (essentially a repeat of what I’d done a month earlier):

Batch #2, September 13, 2026

With virtually no bulbils left on the flower stalk, I decided to dig out the ‘Foxy Lady’ clump — the bloomed-out mother plant, the offsets that flowered sympathetically and are goners (see my July post for an explanation), and the viable offsets that, together with the bulbils, form the next generation:

Mother plant

Viable offsets on the left

The bloomed-out rosettes, big and small, went in the green waste bin. Below are the pups after I cleaned them up a bit. Most have roots already:

Harvested pups

The four largest pups look ready to take off: one is in a 2-gallon pot, the other three are in 1-gallon pots:

The pups look pale because they hadn’t been getting full sun. They should color up quickly now.

There’s nothing special or difficult about what I’ve done. If you have a mangave (or agave) that flowers and produces bulbils, wait until they are a good size and then simply pop them off and stick them in soil. That’s really all there is to it. You may not want 60 or 70, but try a few.

I've found the perfect succulent companion

2026-09-11T00:30:00.000-07:00

I love succulents, obviously. But to create a garden, you need more than just aloes, agaves, cacti, etc. You need rocks as anchors, and you need companion plants to offset and complement your succulents. I have a variety of companion plants, including shrubs and flowering perennials, but one group ties everything together: groundcovers. There’s no formal definition of what a groundcover is, but to me it’s any low-growing plant, no more than five or six inches in height, that spreads horizontally to form a dense mat.

A couple of years ago, the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery, which grows plants both for the UC Davis Arboretum itself and for their popular seasonal plant sales (October 3, October 31, and November 14 this fall), introduced what ended up being the perfect groundcover and succulent companion plant for my garden: Artemisia pedemontana. I’ll give you more details later, but first look at how good it looks.

In the backyard (sorry for bombarding you with so many photos):

And in the front:

Hot afternoon sun, some dieback

What is Artemisia pedemontana? It’s a low-growing, silver-leaved member of the daisy family (Asteraceae), valued more for its finely textured foliage and compact habit than for its (thankfully) inconspicuous flowers. It’s native to mountainous areas of northern Italy and the Balkans (the species name is a reference to the Piedmont region of Italy), and it’s well adapted to exposed, dry conditions.

Close-up of the foliage of Artemisia pedemontana

According to Google, Artemisia pedemontana is sometimes sold under the common name “silver spreader.” I’ve never come across any “silver spreader,” have you? In any case, it forms a low (2-4"), spreading mound of finely divided, woolly foliage. The dense covering of silvery hairs gives the plant a distinctly pale appearance and helps reflect sunlight and limit moisture loss. Depending on whether it’s in the sun or shade, the foliage appears more blue, green, or silver. It’s evergreen and produces small whitish-yellow flower heads in early summer. Denver Botanic Gardens lists it as hardy to USDA Zone 4 (tolerates frost and cold down to around 0°F).

The flowers are an annoyance (personal opinion) more than anything else, but they’re short-lived

Artemisia pedemontana is particularly attractive in rock gardens, alpine plantings, troughs, dry borders, and (I might add) succulent-centric beds where its soft silvery foliage can provide contrast with darker or spikier plants. Based on my experience, it grows equally well in full sun and mostly shade, and it gets by with minimal watering once established.

Artemisia pedemontana cuttings I propagated

All the mounds of Artemisia pedemontana you saw in the photos above came from two (!) 3-inch pots I bought at the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery. Yes, you read that right.

Artemisia pedemontana has proven to be easy to propagate for cuttings. I’ve been sharing it with friends for the last year, and I’m happy to announce that Kyle and I will have some available in our upcoming plant sale, tentatively set for October 31 in West Sacramento (location and more details to be announced soon). It appears we're the only local source for this fantastic ground cover since Artemisia pedemontana won't be offered in the fall plant sales at the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery.

Book review: Meeting Agave utahensis by Dan Zarrella

2026-09-09T07:33:12.984-07:00

Dan Zarrella (mojave.lv), one of the country’s leading experts on Agave utahensis, has written two guest posts for Succulents and More:

Agave utahensis in habitat and in cultivation (September 2024)
Agave utahensis clonal rings (November 2024)

Now Dan has published his first book based on years of field research and practical propagation experience: Meeting Agave utahensis. Read on to find out more.

If you’re interested, you can pre-order the book for $30 until September 9, 2026. This includes a signed softcover edition of the book, a high-resolution PDF for instant download, and a bonus packet of Agave utahensis seeds harvested from hand-pollinated plants in Dan’s collection.

Book cover

Of the 270+ species of agaves, few have the allure and mystique of Agave utahensis, one of North America’s most distinctive agaves. This is doubly true for variety eborispina, which is coveted and collected by aficionados worldwide because of its long and often fantastically twisted spines. Since Agave utahensis is very slow-growing, wild populations are under intense threat from poaching and habitat loss.

Meeting Agave utahensis is the first book ever dedicated entirely to this remarkable species. Dan Zarrella, a social media and marketing specialist by profession and an amateur botanist by passion, has spent considerable time observing Agave utahensis in its native habitats and has done extensive research into the use and management of Agave utahensis among the Indigenous peoples of southern Nevada. The book examines a broad set of topics, ranging from taxonomy and ethnobotany to habitat destruction, wild collecting, and climate change to propagation and responsible buying.

The result is part field guide, part historical investigation, part conservation plea, and part cultivation advice, written in an approachable language easily understood even by readers who aren’t hardcore agave nerds. And since the habitats of varieties nevadensis and eborispina extend into California, the book will be of interest to California native plant enthusiasts as well.

Table of contents

The book begins in Red Rock Canyon near Las Vegas, where Dan introduces visitors from Japan to plants they had previously encountered only in collections and photographs. In habitat, Agave utahensis is considerably more variable than the typical nursery and collector forms suggest. Plants vary in size, coloration, spine length, and growth habit, with differences associated in part with elevation, geology, and isolated mountain habitats. Dan uses these observations to introduce the concept of “sky islands,” where populations occupy mountain environments separated by warmer and drier valleys on between. He suggests that historical changes in climate may have brought some currently isolated populations into contact, which would help explain the species’ considerable variation.

“Agave utahensis is a notably variable species. Two plants growing feet from each other can look completely different. One will have short, straight spines, and the next will have wavy spines and thick lateral teeth. A few steps away will be one whose teeth look less like teeth and more like fringe.”

A major portion of the book examines the long relationship between Agave utahensis and Indigenous peoples of the region. Archaeological evidence suggests that in southern Nevada Agave utahensis was cooked for thousands of years and consumed as food. Dan describes roasting pits associated with Agave utahensis and draws on accounts of the harvesting practices of the Nuwuvi, or Southern Paiute people. Plants were selected and harvested according to established practices, while portions of the plant were left in the ground, capable of regenerating and producing new growth.

Agave utahensis var. eborispina

A clonal ring of Agave utahensis

Agave utahensis is exceptionally cold hardy

Dan argues that these harvesting practices helped maintain healthy populations. He surveyed 96 clonal clumps and rings of Agave utahensis and identified examples that, according to his proposed dating method, predated European settlement and overlapped the period of active Nuwuvi harvesting. He contrasts this history with the wild-harvesting of agaves in Mexico for mezcal production, where removing mature plants before seed production can reduce regeneration and genetic diversity.

“Large-scale Indigenous harvesting of utahensis went on for thousands of years—seven times longer than mezcal harvesting has been happening in Mexico—and their populations do not look damaged. They look abundant. There are hundreds, thousands of clumps and rings on every hillside near roasting pit sites. There is still so much diversity here that Gentry called it a species trait.”

The book also traces the complicated taxonomy of Agave utahensis, including the changing treatment of eborispina, nevadensis, and kaibabensis. Differences between populations have sometimes been treated as evidence for separate taxa and at other times as variation within a broadly defined species. The result is a nomenclature that has changed repeatedly and does not always correspond neatly to what can be observed in the field.

Flower stalk of a merged-spine specimen known online as “The GOAT” cut off by unknown perpetrators to collect its seed

Another topic that receives considerable attention in the book is modern collecting and habitat loss. Agave utahensis is popular with collectors because of its compact form, distinctive spines, and variation between populations. Some plants available to collectors are nursery-grown, while others have been obtained from wild populations. Dan discusses the difficulty of determining provenance, particularly when plants pass through commercial channels and lose their original documentation — if it existed in the first place.

“[Collectors] want rare specimens, from well-known locations. Forbidden locations. The line between legal collection and poaching is purely paperwork. And even that doesn’t stop much of the industry.”

Dan is particularly concerned about plants entering international horticultural markets without reliable information about their origin. He advocates documenting legitimate salvage, expanding propagation from known material, and emphasizing seed-grown plants. He also proposes greater regulatory oversight, including possible CITES protection, to improve transparency in international trade.

Wild-collected Agave utahensis for sale at a nursery outside Las Vegas

Since they were dug from private land, they’re not considered poached

The final chapter is about growing Agave utahensis. This is a topic of particular relevance to collectors, especially since Agave utahensis is often challenging to grow and keep alive in cultivation. Dan stresses that Agave utahensis needs regular water during times of active growth provided the soil dries between waterings. He describes a simple method of weighing potted specimens before and after watering to determine the optimal watering schedule.

“We don’t need to steal agave to have a collection. A seed-grown utahensis is slow and small, but it’s also honest. It’s the result of months and years of light, water, airflow, and waiting. But it doesn’t empty hillsides. It doesn’t take without giving back. And it doesn’t hide its provenance. A seed tray with a label is the opposite of a black plastic pot with only a price tag.”

The most important thing I learned is that Agave utahensis, while it loves a great deal of light, is not very tolerant of heat. That explains why over the years I’ve lost several specimens planted in the ground in full summer sun. In cultivation, Agave utahensis is best grown in bright shade or, as Dan does, indoors under full-spectrum LED lights.

“People have been a part of the Agave utahensis story for thousands of years. For most of that time, even when something was taken, roots were left behind.… Cultivated plants aren’t wrong, but they do carry a responsibility. The machinery of the supply chain takes without giving back. It names from a distance and attaches only price tags. It leaves holes with no roots. Grow utahensis with roots.”

Ultimately, the book places some responsibility on collectors and growers. A cultivated Agave utahensis can represent successful conservation if it was propagated responsibly, but the same plant can represent the loss of a wild individual if its origin is unknown or questionable. The distinction is important because the growing popularity of unusual agaves can create commercial incentives to collect plants faster than wild populations can recover. Dan’s central argument is that the future of the species depends in part on changing the relationship between collectors and wild populations. Cultivation can play a positive role, but only if it reduces rather than increases the demand for plants taken from their natural habitats. The book provides a useful reminder that successful cultivation begins not only with knowing how to grow a plant, but also with understanding where it came from and how it was obtained.

Another spectacular specimen of Agave utahensis var. eborispina

Meeting Agave utahensis is one of only a few books dedicated entirely to one agave species (there are several books on the commercial cultivation of Agave tequilana). It's a much overdue addition to the literature on agaves, and a book of interest to anybody concerned about the threats facing the plants we love so much.

Time for everybody to know who Nick Deinhart is

2026-09-05T18:01:11.027-07:00

If you've followed my blog for any length of time, you've probably come across the name Nick Deinhart. Nick is one of the best agave and aloe growers I know, and he's made countless cool hybrids — I'm lucky to have some in my garden right now. And I'm even luckier to count Nick as a friend.

The following is an article I wrote for the Cactus and Succulent Journal, published quarterly by the Cactus and Succulent Society of America. It appeared in their Summer 2026 issue (Vol. 98-2). It's a long piece, about 2,600 words, and it goes into a lot of geeky detail, but ultimately it's a story of dedication, determination, and dogged pursuit to follow the path you've set for yourself. Nick has been doing amazing work in aloe hybridization, mostly for himself and without seeking attention. But I think it's high time for him to get some of the recognition he so richly deserves.

Grower’s Spotlight: Nick Deinhart

Cactus and Succulent Journal, Vol. 98-2 (Summer 2026)

Photos by Gerhard Bock and Nick Deinhart

On California’s Central Coast, a quiet horticultural revolution is unfolding—one seedling at a time. Nick Deinhart (Figs.1 and 2), currently Horticulture Unit Manager at California Polytechnic State University (Cal Poly) in San Luis Obispo, is a plant breeder with a deep family legacy and a penchant for tinkering with genetics who is redefining what an aloe can be. Over 25 years, he has moved from the “ugly” accidents of a novice to the complex, multi-species hybrids that now define his breeding program, driven by a pursuit of the Holy Grail: aloes that bloom multiple times a year.

Roots in the Azores and the Central Valley

The foundations of Nick’s career were laid long before he understood the science behind plants. He was born into a family where gardening was a part of life. His great-grandfather, an immigrant from the Azores, an island chain off the coast of Portugal, maintained a beautiful garden in San Jose that served as Nick’s earliest classroom. “He was a true horticulturalist,” Nick recalls. “He didn’t really know the names of plants or even care. He just admired them for their beauty. And he was an amazing propagator.” Complementing his great-grandfather’s influence was a more practical education from his father for whom the annual summer vegetable garden was a cherished ritual. “A highlight of my childhood was him and me, every year planning and executing our summer garden,” Nick remembers. “That was always really special to me.”

These formative years instilled in Nick a fundamental connection to the soil that would eventually lead him to pursue a plant-oriented career. He earned an Associate’s degree in horticulture from Modesto Junior College while working in local retail nurseries, followed by a BS in plant science from Fresno State University.

Fig. 2 Nick’s outdoor growing area in San Luis Obispo.

The spark: a raffle and a monk

Nick’s entry into the world of hybridization was fueled by a combination of luck and literature. At a show and sale hosted by the San Joaquin Cactus and Succulent Society at a Stockton mall—an event Nick hadn’t even known existed—he won a $50 gift certificate to Poot’s Cactus Nursery nearby. He used it to buy his first small aloes, Aloe jucunda and Aloe bakeri.

For a year, the plants grew quietly side by side, but eventually, they bloomed at the same time and set fruit. Nick, a junior college student at the time, was immersed in Robin Marantz Henig’s book The Monk in the Garden, which details the groundbreaking genetic discoveries of Moravian monk and naturalist Gregor Mendel. “The stars were aligned,” Nick says, as the academic theories of heredity met the physical reality of his blooming aloes. Though those first seedlings were, in his estimation, “the ugliest hybrids ever” and were promptly discarded, the conceptual seed had been planted. He realized he did not have to be a passive observer of nature; he could be an active participant.

Living in the “sleepy one-horse town” of Modesto, Nick was initially isolated from the active succulent breeding scene in Southern California. He was unaware that figures like David Verity and Kelly Griffin were already doing pioneering work in aloe hybridization. “I kind of independently started doing this and found out that I could do it,” he says of those early experiments.

Finding the tribe: Fresno and San Diego

A move to Fresno to attend Fresno State proved to be a turning point, not just for Nick’s education, but also for his personal life. During a tumultuous period following the tragic loss of his father, the Fresno Cactus and Succulent Society became a sanctuary. Despite being decades younger than most members, Nick found a surrogate family among the “grandmothers” of the club. “It was like I found my tribe,” he reflects. “Those ladies took me in. We all loved plants the same way.”

After graduating and moving to North San Diego County, he joined the San Diego Cactus and Succulent Society where he made many valuable connections. A year or so later, as he was getting ready to leave San Diego and move north to San Luis Obispo, he became friends with Jeremy Spath, now a leading agave hybridizer (HiddenAgave.com). He considers Jeremy a “brother from another mother” and a primary influence on his life.

Their friendship led to botanical expeditions in Mexico with Kelly Griffin, already known as a master aloe and agave hybridizer. On their first trip, in 2015, Nick, as the “greenhorn,” served as the “chauffeur to the tour guide,” driving hundreds of miles across several states in five days to see species like Agave horrida in their native habitats. This was followed by many more trips with Jeremy and Kelly, sometimes two or three a year. While Nick’s primary focus today is aloe hybrids, he also grows pure species from seed, both aloes and agaves, and he makes the occasional ×Mangave (Figs. 3 through 5).

Fig. 3 Seed-grown Aristaloe aristata

Fig. 4 Seed-grown Agave impressa

Fig. 5 ×Mangave ‘Bloodspot’ × Agave ‘Blue Glow

The architecture of the hybrid: Aloe humilis and Aloe hemmingii

Nick’s initial experiments with Aloe jucunda and Aloe bakeri in the early 2000s were a valuable learning experience but didn’t produce any memorable results. What really kicked off Nick’s aloe breeding obsession was Aloe humilis (Fig. 6), a diminutive species he loves for its compact size and the prickles that cover its leaves. One day he came across Aloe hemmingii released by Altman Plants (incorrectly labeled Aloe harlana at the time). He found a “really nice high-white one” at a big box store, which he then crossed with Aloe humilis. He got about a dozen seedlings. Most were unremarkable, but one stood out—a plant that retained the distinctive prickles of Aloe humilis on both the top and bottom of the leaf while inheriting the larger teeth and robust nature of Aloe hemmingii. Crucially, this hybrid exhibited a trait that would define Nick’s career: it bloomed several times a year. This cross remains in his collection today (Fig 7), serving as the genetic foundation for many of his subsequent projects. “It may not be super showy, but it has the reblooming trait, and that’s what I’m trying to pass on,” he says.

Fig. 6 Aloe humilis.

Fig. 7 Nick with an offset from his original Aloe humilis × hemmingii cross.

The pursuit of the Holy Grail: re-blooming aloes

In the world of aloe breeding, the Holy Grail is a plant that transcends the once-a-year flowering cycle. Nick’s goal is to create specimens that provide year-round color and interest, particularly for today’s smaller residential gardens.

Early in his career, he was at the mercy of the seasons, “praying” that two desirable plants would bloom simultaneously. After reading about other breeders freezing pollen, he experimented with the method and found it highly successful, with aloe pollen remaining viable for up to a year. This allows him to crossbreed species with different blooming schedules, for example a species that flowers in January with one that blooms in June. The resulting hybrids often inherit the bloom times of both parents and flower repeatedly throughout the year.

Another major influence in this pursuit was Brian Kemble, the curator of the Ruth Bancroft Garden in Walnut Creek, California. Brian worked both with Aloe humilis and Aloe zubb (known as Aloe sinkatana at the time), the latter a rebloomer by nature. Brian noted that hybrids involving Aloe zubb often flowered more than once, a finding Nick confirmed through his own lineage of Aloe zubb hybrids.

The “zubb empire” and the “mini ferox”

The Aloe zubb lineage is perhaps the most significant result of Nick’s long-term work. It began with a hybrid between an orange-flowering Aloe zubb and a yellow-flowering Aloe marlothii. This produced a yellow-flowering hybrid which he then crossed back to an orange-flowering zubb. One of the seedlings stood out for its beauty. Nick named it ‘Cheerleader’ for its vibrant, pom-pom-like flowers (Fig. 8). This hybrid, a mix of three-quarters zubb and one-quarter marlothii, seemed to never stop flowering.

Fig. 8 Aloe ‘Cheerleader’ (Aloe zubb crossed with a yellow-flowering Aloe marlothii, backcrossed to Aloe zubb). Nick uses ‘Cheerleader’ in many crosses (see Fig. 24-25).

Nick then took ‘Cheerleader’ and crossed it with Aloe ferox, a South African giant known for its massive blooms (Figs. 9 through 11). This gave rise to his “mini ferox” series—plants that possess the dramatic, robust flower power of the large species but remain compact enough for smaller gardens. “I want to see big flowers, lots of racemes, lots of color,” Nick explains, noting that he now has a “high threshold for pleasure” when it comes to aloe blooms. These mini ferox types often bloom three times a year, with each cycle lasting weeks to months (Fig. 12).

Fig. 9 Classic form of Aloe ferox in flower.

Fig. 10 Dark red-flowering candelabrum form of Aloe ferox (‘Black Cherry’) that Nick has used in many hybrids.

Fig. 11 Close-up of Aloe ferox/candelabrum ‘Black Cherry’ flowers.

Fig. 12 Aloe ‘King Zubb’: Aloe [(zubb × (zubb × marlothii)] × ferox.

Collaborations in the landscape

While many hobbyist hybridizers keep their work private, Nick’s plants have found their way into the world through his friendship with another Nick—Nick Wilkinson. Wilkinson, local landscape designer (Botanica Nova) and owner of GROW Nursery in nearby Cambria, has been an invaluable supporter, purchasing Nick’s hybrids and incorporating them into his landscape designs throughout the region.

One prominent example of this collaboration is the Cambria Shores Inn on Moonstone Beach, owned by Wilkinson’s parents. Wilkinson planted some of Nick’s crosses in the hotel’s succulent garden, providing Nick with a unique opportunity to see his creations reach their mature potential (Fig. 13). “Having my hybrids in local landscapes has been so beneficial for me,” Nick says, especially as he has moved many times over the years and has rarely had a garden of his own. Even today, he keeps tabs on how his creations are doing and collects pollen where possible (Figs. 14 and 15). Other pollen sources include Aloes in Wonderland, Jeff Chemnick’s private botanical garden, and Cold Spring Aloes, Tom Cole’s nursery, both in Santa Barbara.

Fig. 13 Aloe comptonii × ferox planted out at Cambria Shores Inn.

Fig. 14 Nick hand-pollinating Aloe capitata × rubroviolacea.

Fig. 15 Nick often applies pollen from multiple aloes to a single inflorescence. Different colored threads indicate the pollen source.

Genetics, variability, and scoffing by the purists

As Nick’s hybrids have moved into their F2 generations and beyond, the genetic complexity has increased exponentially. Some of his current crosses are the product of five or six different species, including marlothii, claviflora, cameronii, and aculeata. The most complex read like mathematical formulas, for example [(zubb × (zubb × marlothii) × ferox] × (marlothii × thraskii) (Fig. 16). With so many years of practical experience, Nick usually has a fairly good idea of which traits a new hybrid is likely to inherit, but there is always an element of chance, and surprises do happen—good and not so good.

Fig. 16 This tag shows how complex some of Nick’s hybrids have gotten.

Botanical purists, who believe species should remain unadulterated, occasionally scoff at Nick’s tinkering with nature’s blueprints. (Sometimes it’s more like a good-natured ribbing since Nick is friends with many of his critics.) Ultimately, Nick remains unfazed by the “eyerolling” from the traditionalist camp. “I don’t do this because I’m looking for others’ approval,” he says. “I do it because I genuinely love it.”

Fig. 17 Aloe cameronii × white-flowering form of ferox.

Fig. 18 Aloe ‘Jim’s Jubilee’: Aloe (arborescens × ferox) × spectabilis.

Fig. 19 Aloe ‘January Embers’: Aloe (arborescens × ferox) × spectabilis. This is a sibling to ‘Jim’s Jubilee’ in Fig. 18, demonstrating how seedlings from the same batch can turn out to be quite different.

For him, the goal is not to replace nature, but to celebrate and expand upon its beauty, bringing together the best qualities of the parents involved and creating something new and unique that would otherwise not exist.

Fig. 20 Aloe [(albiflora × bellatula) × betsileensis] × capitata

Fig. 21 Aloe ‘Fast Eddie’, named after Nick's late father: Aloe humilis × white-flowering form of candelabrum.

Fig. 22 Aloe (claviflora × petricola) × peglerae.

Next step: tissue culture?

After 25 years of hobbyist breeding, Nick is considering the next phase of his work: possible commercialization. While in the past he has shared hybrid seeds with wholesale nurseries like San Marcos Growers, many of his most spectacular hybrids remain one-offs. The potential for tissue culture—a method of cloning plants in a laboratory setting—would allow him to release his “best-of ” selections to a wider audience (Figs. 17 through 36).

Fig. 23 Aloe betsileensis × marlothii.

Fig. 24 Aloe ‘Cheerleader’ × ferox.

Fig. 25 Aloe ‘Cheerleader’ × ferox. Same parents, very different look.

Fig. 26 Aloe (chortolirioides × arborescens) × compressa.

The prospect is not entirely foreign to him; his senior project at Fresno State involved the successful tissue culture of aloes, and his poster board from that project still hangs in the university lab. With his brother-in-law being an automation engineer with available space on his and Nick’s sister’s property, the idea of a private lab has come up a time or two. For now, it’s just a dream, but dreams do sometimes come true.

Fig. 27 Aloe globuligemma × marlothii ‘Utrecht’

Fig. 28 Aloe vanbalenii × ferox.

Fig. 29 Aloe ‘Rachael’: Aloe (striata × maculata) × prinslooi.

Fig. 30 Aloe conifera × marlothii

Enduring passion

Ultimately, Nick’s work is driven by the same curiosity that led to the “ugly” seedlings in his first hybridization attempt 25 years ago. Whether he is experimenting with grass aloes like Aloe chortolirioides or crossing rarely seen species like Aloe ankoberensis with complex zubb descendants, he remains a dedicated student of the genus. Today, he is less interested in acquiring rare species from others, finding more excitement in the “in-house” possibilities of his own creations.

Fig. 31 Aloe ‘Vincent Price’: Aloe humilis × aculeata.

Fig. 32 Aloe (mawii × munchii) × capitata.

Fig. 33 Aloe ‘Cellar Dweller’: Aloe humilis × aculeata.

Fig. 34 Most Aloe flowers are brightly colored. Some species from the Horn of Africa and the Arabian Peninsula are more muted in color and have fuzzy flowers. This hybrid (Aloe trichosantha × tomentosa) combines two such species.

Fig. 35 Another cross with fuzzy flowers: Aloe (dorotheae × tomentosa) × lavranosii.

25 years in, Nick has made more aloe hybrids than he can count. “It’s my way to bring some beauty into the world,” Nick says of his lifelong commitment to aloe hybridization. “I just have a passion for doing it, and it keeps me out of trouble.” As his babies—some with five or six species in their bloodline—make their way into gardens across California and beyond, they carry with them a legacy that began in the Azores and has flourished through two and a half decades of dogged pursuit. “It takes many years to see these projects through to flower. Good thing I started young.”

You can follow Nick on Instagram or contact him via email. Nick also has a shop on Palmstreet where you can buy some of his hybrids.

This and that, early September 2026

2026-09-03T12:41:07.725-07:00

A new month, a new This and that post. Yep, it’s September, folks! Where has the year gone?

CACTUS OBSERVATIONS

Not a lot of cactus flowers at this time of year, but there are still some:

Dudleya pulverulenta (I’m happy that I’ve managed to keep it looking so good) next to Echinopsis ‘Sleeping Beauty’. Sometimes a side view of a cactus flower is as pretty as the top-down view.

Echinopsis ‘Sex on the Beach’

Ferocactus herrerae. I love everything about this barrel cactus...

...but I’m worried gravity might win out in the end even though there is a large rock propping it up

Closeup of Opuntia cochenillifera ‘Sunburst’

Here’s the entire plant. I started with one pad a friend had given me.

FLUSHING COONTIE

My coontie is flushing. I’ve been wanting to say this for a long time.

Unless you’re from Florida you probably have no clue what that means. The coontie (Zamia integrifolia) is a small cycad native to Florida, the Bahamas, and the Caribbean. Like virtually all cycads, it’s a very slow grower. It produces a new set of leaves once a year — that’s called flushing. Before the new leaves emerge, the old leaves flop down to make room.

A flushing coontie is nothing super special to Florida gardeners, but to me it is.

Zamia integrifolia

My plant has six heads. My friend Michele got it for me at a UC Davis Botanical Conservatory plant sale. The tag says 2006, so it’s 20 years old.

MORE RATTY SHENANIGANS

My rat problem (chronicled here and here) is continuing. For quite a while, they left my succulents alone (the tomatoes were more tempting), but just this week they started to nibble on several young agaves. I’m not sure what I can do. I’ve set out traps, but the odds of catching (m)any of them is slim.

Agave oteroi ‘Filigree’

Agave ‘Pixie’

MORE MANGAVE BULBILS

As I mentioned in this post from July, my Mangave ‘Foxy Lady’ has produced hundreds of bulbils. I’ve harvested the largest ones, but there are still at least 100 left on the flower stalk. My plan is to leave them attached until they’re a bit bigger — the larger they are when you separate them, the quicker they root. I’ll have an update soon.

I love how the afternoon sun lights up the pink leaf margins

CURIOUS NURSERY SIGHTINGS (OR: WTF?!?)

I haven’t been to nurseries much lately (it’s been too hot to do any serious plant buying, let alone planting), but I’ve noticed a few curious things on the rare visits I did make:

This cactus is a textbook case of etiolation — the stem growing thinner and thinner as it stretches towards the light. It’s been kept in the dark for much too long. Cacti need light, folks!

I spotted this sad thing at a garden center in town. It’s a spiral aloe (Aloe polyphylla), and even though it’s pretty much dead, they still want $19.99 for it. We can grow many aloe species, but Aloe polyphylla is not one of them. I get it, it’s stunningly beautiful (check out this specimen I photographed at the San Francisco Botanical Garden in June), but any attempt to grow it in our hot-summer climate is destined to fail. I know from experience. Local nurseries should never tempt unsuspecting customers with Aloe polyphylla.

BLUE RANGER FINALLY FLOWERING

Leucophyllums (commonly known as Texas ranger, Texas sage, or barometer bush) are shrubs native to the southwestern US and Mexico, and they’re equally well suited for our climate. Local nurseries are beginning to realize that — the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery, for example, will have five or six different varieties in their upcoming fall plant sales.

I currently have three leucophyllums, and the Leucophyllum zygophyllum (aka blue ranger) below is finally large enough to bloom well. I love this particular species because of its fuzzy silver leaves (most leucophyllum species have grayish-green leaves).

Leucophyllum zygophyllum outside the front yard fence

Leucophyllum zygophyllum (don’t worry about the Aloe excelsa on the right; it’s in the process of re-rooting after Kyle and I chopped off a couple of feet of crooked stem)

Leucophyllum zygophyllum flowers. Have I mentioned how much I love the silver leaves?

If you’re curious why leucophyllums are called barometer bush: It’s because in their native environment, they can “forecast” rain. Rising moisture levels in the air and low atmospheric pressure act as natural triggers for the plant to flower. They can bloom multiple times from summer through fall, whenever a significant change in the weather occurs. My Leucophyllum zygophyllum burst into flower because I watered it heavily last week.

SOUTH AFRICAN BULBS ARE WAKING UP

Shorter daylight hours and cooling temperatures have caused some of my South African bulbs to wake up. How that works exactly I can’t tell you, but it works.

Below is one of them, Boophone disticha. It spends the summer under a bench in the greenhouse, bone dry, and yet it always returns at this time of year. A sign that fall is coming!

Boophone disticha waking up

EVENING LIGHT

Early evening in the front yard continues to be magical. I love how the plants just glow.

Even the white trunk of the palo blanco tree (Mariousousa heterophylla) glows when the low sun hits it just right

WONDERFULLY WEIRD WEATHER

And then there’s the weather. Does anybody talk/think/worry about the weather as much as gardeners do?

This summer has been wonderfully mild for us. We had a few spells with daytime highs in the low 100s, but they were short. The rest of the time, it’s been in the 90s and, lately, in the 80s. This past week, we’ve had quite a few overcast days, with highs not even reaching 80. No complaints from me!

Overcast days are very unusual in the summer

The other day, we even had a perfect rainbow even though there was no real rain, just a few sprinkles:

And then there was this:

It looked like the zombie apocalypse was finally upon us, but it turned out the cause of the dirty orange sky was a wildfire in Big Sur on the Central Coast, 200 miles away (!).

STELLA VS. SQUIRREL

The squirrels are busy collecting acorns. And they’re ready to defend their haul. This squirrel made a big show of signaling to Stella to stay away. Stella did, but only because I kept her on a short leash. Otherwise she would have chased the squirrel up the tree.

I've already started to collect more random observations for the next This and that.

Where my new rocks went

2026-08-31T19:26:49.378-07:00

In case you were wondering where the rocks went that I talked about in my last post, wonder no more. Some went in the succulent beds in the backyard, others were for a small but urgently needed update just inside the front yard fence.

First let’s rewind to March 2010. Look at the bamboo in the center of this photo:

Bambusa chungii ‘Barbellata’ (center) in April 2010, shortly after planting. The other two bamboos (right and left) are long gone.

This cute little bamboo is now a behemoth 30 ft. tall:

Bambusa chungii ‘Barbellata’ in April 2026. The tallest culms are now as tall as the house.

Bambusa chungii is a clumping bamboo, a non-invasive type that grows in tight, contained circles instead of spreading aggressively underground like the common running bamboos. Still, over time the clump gets wider and wider until new shoots (called “culms”) appear in adjacent areas where they’re not wanted. Here’s an example:

New shoot popping up in the adjacent agave bed...

...right next to my biggest Agave albopilosa

And this is just one example. I’ve lost track, but I must have removed at least two dozen stray culms this year (fortunately, they’re easy to snap off).

There’s no bulletproof fix short of taking out the bamboo altogether, something I’m not ready to do at this point. I fully expect that some new culms will continue their wayward ways. I can’t stop them, but what I can do is slow them down and redirect them so they don’t mess with my agave bed too much.

To this end, I removed the plants and the soil right next to the bamboo clump:

Then I laid down ½-inch hardware cloth...

...topped with a large slab of rock and half a dozen concrete pavers:

Bamboo shoots are soft and tender when they first emerge but can exert surprising upward pressure, reportedly breaking even through thin asphalt. Still, I’m hoping that my solution will be strong enough to either cause new shoots to abort or to redirect them. It’s possible they’ll emerge even farther away from the clump, but I’ll deal with that if and when the time comes.

I put back the soil I had dug out and added some more for extra height. Then I played around with the placement of a few new agaves:

I used the three sample pieces of onyx I’d gotten earlier in the week, and it quickly became obvious that I needed more. Another trip to Dixon Landscape Materials was in order:

Another van load of onyx

I decided to be conservative in my plant choices because there isn’t that much room.

Ultimately, I planted only three new agaves:

Agave parryi var. truncata in the back, Agave parrasana ‘Impressionist’ (the variegated one in the middle), and a clumping dwarf form of Agave oteroi in the lower right:

The agaves on the left were already there: Agave subsimplex, Agave pintilla, and Agave albopilosa.

As I already said, this won’t fix the problem, but hopefully it’ll make it better. And the onyx really does look good.

More rocks – because you can never have enough

2026-08-27T16:54:00.798-07:00

My friend Kyle has been a major inspiration, and the #1 lesson I’ve learned from his garden is this: You can never have enough rocks. I’ve added tons (literally) of rocks to my front and backyard, and yet there’s always need (and room) for more.

My go-to source for rocks is Dixon Landscape Materials, an easy 15-minute drive on the freeway. The material I’ve been getting for the last few years is called rustic red boulder. At the moment, the rock yard is a bit low:

Rustic red boulders at Dixon Landscape Materials

But there was enough to fill the trunk of our minivan. I try not to haul more than 500 pounds at a time, seeing how it’s an old car. This is a little over 400 pounds:

400 pounds of rustic red boulder on a cart

The real surprise was in the basket right next to the rustic red boulders:

Onyx from Arizona

They just received a shipment of this onyx from Arizona:

I love the look of it but I wasn’t sure if it would work in my garden, so I got three pieces to try out:

Here’s a rustic red boulder (front) and three pieces of onyx. I think they complement each other well:

I’ve started to use the rocks from my latest haul in two spots: one in the front and one in the back. Check back in a few days to see photos.

Plumeria madness

2026-08-24T16:53:58.046-07:00

As I mentioned in my mid-August This and that post, our local Costco warehouse has a variety of plumerias right now, $39.99 for a 3.5-gallon pot:

As I said in my post, “Maybe I’ll go back tomorrow and get one.” And guess what? That’s exactly what I did:

Plumeria rubra ‘Aztec Gold’ from Costco

If you’ve ever seen (and smelled) a plumeria flower, you know why I’m so taken by them. If not, here are some photos I’ve collected over the years:

Maui, Hawaii

Santa Ana, California

Oakland, California

Plumerias (called “frangipani” in other parts of the English-speaking world, like Australia) are shrubs or small trees native to the Neotropics (Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean, into South America) and related to desert roses (Adenium sp.) and oleanders (Nerium oleander). They’re widely grown as ornamentals in other tropical regions, especially Hawaii. In fact, plumeria flowers are commonly used in leis, the traditional Hawaiian garlands, and worn in hair to signal hospitality, romance, or welcome. (One Instagram account I follow, Little Plumeria Farms on the north shore of O’ahu, has been growing plumerias for over 50 years.)

Plumeria flowers have a complex, intoxicating fragrance, variously compared to jasmine, citrus, gardenia, or peach, but distinctly their own. The scent intensifies at night to attract the moths that pollinate them. Between the alluring smell, the beautiful pinwheel flowers, and the fact they have built-in succulence (their stems store water for dry periods), plumerias should be the perfect garden plant. And they are — in areas where winters are very mild. Unfortunately, they start to struggle in temperatures below 40°F and will die at around 32°F.

Even though our winters have become noticeably warmer, we still drop below freezing several times each winter, even if it’s just for a few hours. Why then have I decided to take the plunge and get a plumeria? Because I’m crazy, that’s all. What gives me a morsel of hope is the experience of my friend Tracy of tz_garden, who lives in Livermore, 1½ hours away from here: She simply drags her potted plumeria into the garage in the winter where it stays dry and dark until the danger of frost is over.

Our local Costco had at least 10 different varieties when I was there. I spent a goodly amount of time looking at all of them, but ultimately I went for a yellow-white cultivar, ‘Aztec Gold’. (While I was there, an older couple was also looking. They chose a pink-flowering variety because their grand-daughters are into pink.)

As it turns out, ‘Aztec Gold’ is fast-growing and a very good bloomer, with large 4-inch flowers that have a strong peach scent. Here’s a photo of the flowers from Gardenia.net:

Yellow (and white) are my favorite flower colors, so ‘Aztec Gold’ is perfect in that regard. The fact that its flowers are larger than other varieties is an extra bonus.

Unfortunately, when I unpotted my plumeria trio from Costco, this is what I found:

Three sticks, only one of which had real roots. One of the other two had the beginnings of a root, the other had none:

Still, Costco has an iron-clad satisfaction guarantee, so if some (or all) of them die, I’ll go back for a refund. For now, I’ll hang on to the 5-gallon nursery pot, which has a rather interesting warning:

Really? Human or animal consumption? This smacks of lawyers covering their asses.

I stuck the three lightly rooted plumeria sticks in a large container nestled into the plantings inside the front yard fence. Plumerias love heat and need as much sun as they can get to bloom well. This spot should check all those boxes. My hope is that the gazania and cuphea next to and in front of the gray pot will eventually hide most of it.

Right now, this is all an experiment — another one in a long list — so who knows what the outcome will be. For me, one of the main things I love about gardening is being able to try new (and sometimes crazy) things, to improvise, and to be surprised. I’m a strong believer in taking chances and in serendipity.

Revisiting Fred and Paul's quirky succulent garden in Sacramento

2026-08-21T17:14:59.973-07:00

Last week, I had the opportunity to revisit a very special succulent garden in Sacramento, created and loved by Fred and Paul. Almost a year and half had gone by since my first visit, and I was eager to see their garden again. My friend Michele was my companion on this outing.

Fred and Paul live in a mid-century modern house built in 1959. When they bought it almost 15 years ago, there was lawn everywhere: in the front, along the side, and in the back. Here’s what it looked like in 2011:

Google Street View photo from 2011

The landscaping in the front is fairly minimalistic, dominated by concrete paths, steps, and planters with straight lines and right angles. The design reminded me of Palm Springs – and that was before I found out that Fred and Paul used to own a house in Palm Springs!

Notice the tall multi-branched Euphorbia ammak with its startling yellow coloration above? It’s the signature plant of Fred and Paul’s garden. You’ll see more of it in the back.

Variegated Euphorbia ammak

Gigantic rhipsalis in a color-coordinated pot next to the front door

See the Sale sign? That was one of the reasons for my visit. (The other was to deliver a variegated Aloe ‘Hercules’ to Fred and Paul.)

The expansive use of gray concrete and gray gravel gives a brutalist vibe:

It takes a lot of discipline to leave large spaces unplanted — more discipline than I could ever muster.

Another Google Street View image from 2011:

Google Street View photo from 2011

Before we round the corner, I want to show you a satellite image of the property (originally from my March 2025 post). It shows you where the various garden areas are:

Now we’re on the other side of the house, with the driveway and garage on the left:

The landscaping here — and everywhere else along the side and in the back — is very different from the front: exuberant, joyful, unrestrained. It perfectly matches Fred and Paul’s bubbly personalities.

Cramscaping in the making

Aloe vanbalenii raised up so its undulating leaves can flop down freely

Aloe marlothii, a Craigslist find

A low fence encloses a small exterior courtyard:

Raised bed bordered by stacked rocks

One of several large driftwood pieces

An old water heater turned into a sheep feeder and now into a planter

One the day of my visit, Fred and Paul were having a garage and plant sale with a huge variety of items:

Fred and Paul’s Craigslist ad

I was thrilled to see them selling Euphorbia ammak cuttings harvested from their own plants:

Euphorbia ammak cuttings

A couple of years ago, I would have gladly bought a few of these cuttings, but right now, I have enough of my own

More plants for sale

I did find something I felt I needed to have:

A plow disc sitting on top of, well, something very heavy

Maybe a tire jack for a truck?

I photographed a similar piece in Fred and Paul’s backyard last year:

Similar plow disc piece in Fred and Paul’s backyard in March 2025

After a bit of shopping and schmoozing, Michele and I checked out the backyard:

One of many cool vignettes in the backyard

Paul and Fred memorialized in stone. Darn good likenesses, too (see photo of the guys at the bottom of this post).

An aeonium variety I haven’t seen before

Monkey tail cactus (Cleistocactus colademononis)

Dormant aeoniums

Huge variety of succulents everywhere

Variegated Euphorbia ammak, cholla, and howling coyote

Vintage carousel horse — I mean, who has one of those???

Looking toward the driveway and street

Another large piece of driftwood

Yes, there’s a pool, too. More photos in a bit.

Landscaping around the hot tub deck (rebuilt since my last visit)

Pieces of wood used in a very sculptural way

The tall strappy plant in the middle is Furcraea macdougallii

Variegated Agave ‘Blue Flame’

Same Furcraea macdougallii from the other side

Ponytail palm (Beaucarnea recurvata)

The miniaturized pine on the other side is a beautiful contrast to the succulents that dominate the backyard landscaping

Fred and Paul were busy with their garage/plant sale so I didn’t get a chance to take a photo of the two of them. That’s why I’m borrowing this photo from my March 2025 post:

Fred and Paul in their backyard

The day Michele and I visited was oddly overcast — not typical for this time of year. That’s why my photos aren’t as vibrant as I wanted them to be. I want to go back soon to find out more about Fred and Paul’s design choices, where they find the odd objects they repurpose into garden art, and what makes them tick in general. Look for another post in the near future.

The weed that drives me bonkers

2026-08-17T17:32:27.003-07:00

Weeds are a fact of life for a gardener. I try to stay on top of things, but I’m not obsessive-compulsive about weeding. However, there’s one weed that drives me bonkers: spotted spurge (Euphorbia maculata). It’s an annual that goes away in the fall and doesn’t come back until late spring. But when it does, it’s seemingly overnight — and it’s everywhere:

Spotted spurge (Euphorbia maculata)

It loves to grow out from under things so it’s hard to get to the center of it

It also loves to grow in the middle of desirable plants...

... like this Dymondia margaritae

Spotted spurge’s specialty is to pop up in particularly inconvenient spots:

Who wants to reach into this dyckia clump and try to pull out the spurge?

Or this silver cholla (Cylindropuntia echinocarpa)? I like it, but I try not to get too close to it

Spotted spurge is part of the massive euphorbia family. The Euphorbiaceae is the fifth largest flowering-plant family and includes members as diverse as the rubber tree (Hevea brasiliensis), the world’s most important source of natural rubber, the Chinese tallow (Triadica sebifera), a widely grown ornamental tree, the castor bean (Ricinus communis), and of course the genus Euphorbia proper, which encompasses everything from the poinsettia (Euphorbia pulcherrima), the woody spurges (like Euphorbia characias), the many cactoid euphorbias popular with succulent lovers, to countless pesky weeds like my behated Euphorbia maculata.

What all species in the genus Euphorbia have in common, aside from the milky sap, is their special flower structure. The flowers (called “cyathia”) are reduced to only the parts that are absolutely essential for reproduction. My pesky spotted spurge, which is native to the eastern U.S. but has spread all over the country, is a prime example:

Spotted spurge (Euphorbia maculata)

As much of a pest spotted spurge is, it deserves respect for how it’s evolved to maximize its chances of survival. The growth cycle from germination to flowering and seed production is just five weeks. Let that sink in!

Each plant produces thousands of seeds, which can germinate instantly if the conditions are right (soil temperatures of 60°F to 75°F or higher) or lay dormant for years. The seeds are tiny, no more than 1 mm (the thickness of ten sheets of regular printer paper stacked together) and have hairs that allow them to stick to anything from animal fur to clothing, even shoes, making it easy for them to hitch a ride into the big wide world.

Basically, once you have spotted spurge in your garden, you’ll always have it. That’s just how it is.

This and that, mid August 2026

2026-08-13T18:10:18.539-07:00

It’s been a month since my last “This and that” post. High time for another one, the mid-August 2026 edition.

AGAVES

My previous post was about the teeth on agaves and other succulents. I have a few photos that didn’t make it into that post but deserve to be seen:

Agave horrida from San Marcos Growers

Random variegation on Agave ovatifolia ‘Vanzie’ found at a big-box store

Agave ovatifolia ‘Orca’, the storied variegated clone of the whale’s tongue agave, now in tissue culture at Altman Plants

CACTUS FLOWERS

Cactus flower season is behind us, but some echinopsis hybrids rebloom throughout the summer. Bless them for giving us joy at the doldrumest time of year.

Echinopsis ‘Embraceable You’, a Schick hybrid released by the Huntington

Echinopsis ‘Mutation’ (formerly ‘Freda’). The petals are serrated, but never quite the same way twice. In other words, each flower is a surprise.

Echinopsis ‘Shades of Bourne’

Oops, I missed these. This is all I got to enjoy, in the late afternoon.

The flowers on Ferocactus rectispinus are pretty, but not in the same league as the echinopsis flowers above. But look at the spines! They’re 6" to 7" in length!

MORE CACTUS

A few more random cactus sightings:

Ferocactus pilosus in front of Agave (potatorum ‘Spawn’ × isthmensis) × shawii. A totally random combination that looks great.

A friend gave me an unrooted cutting of what I think is the most spectacular form of the silver torch cactus (Cleistocactus strausii). It took months, but it seems like it’s finally rooted, as per tug test. I love this one.

My friend Kyle made this box for my creeping devil cactus (Stenocactus eruca). Look how small it was exactly two years ago. Two years later, not only has my creeping devil grown arms, it’s also extended far beyond the wooden box. The time has come to think about its future. It will be rehomed shortly; I’ve already talked to the owner of its future home. Update soon.

STOPPED DEAD IN MY TRACKS

Sometimes you’re in the right place in your garden at the right time and spot something that stops you dead in your tracks. This happened to me the other day:

Hardy tapioca (Manihot grahamiii)

The shadows were mesmerizing

STAGHORN

In early April, I came across this staghorn fern (Platycerium bifurcatum ‘Netherlands’) at a local Ace Hardware store. I’d never had much luck with staghorn ferns before, but I decided to try again. Fast forward four months. My staghorn fern, still in its original 1-gallon plastic pot, is not only alive, it’s actually grown! It’s on the front porch, in full shade, a spot it clearly likes. A success story for sure, but nothing more than a stroke of luck. I take no credit for any of it.

Platycerium bifurcatum ‘Netherlands’

“SCHIZOPHRENIC” CANNA

I used to grow cannas many years ago, but when I switched to more water-wise landscaping, I ditched them. That was a big mistake. Cannas may be native to tropical areas of Central and South America, but it turns out that they’re actually remarkable drought-tolerant once established. In recent years, I’ve been adding cannas back into the mix.

No canna cultivar is as striking as Canna × generalis ‘Cleopatra’, a chimera known for its unpredictable mutations. Sometimes the leaves are all green, sometimes they have brown streaks or are half brown, and sometimes they’re all brown. It’s completely random. Plant Delights calls it “schizophrenic canna lily” — a very appropriate moniker.

Canna × generalis ‘Cleopatra’ leaf

The flowers are equally unpredictable: yellow, red, or a mix of both:

Canna × generalis ‘Cleopatra’ flower

REALLY?

I saw this outside a local supermarket:

A 6-pack of shade-tolerant succulents, each in a 4" pot. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Then I saw the price. $36.99 for six 4-inch pots of super common succulents? Wowza. The pricing is insane. These should be $19.99 or less.

THINK AGAIN

Here in Davis, we have decent-sized yard waste bins that get emptied every week. Most of the time, the bins are more than adequate. But some weeks you have more yard waste than you can stuff into the bin. In that case, you simply have to spread it out, because, according to the waste collection company, the lid of the bin has to be closed for them to empty it.

Apparently, this homeowner a few blocks away thought that they could push the envelope just a liiiiiiiittle bit. This was yesterday, the evening before today’s yard waste pickup:

Yesterday, before pickup

And this is today, after the collection truck came through:

Today, after pickup

Oops, the truck simply drove by and ignored this massively overstuffed bin.

I wonder how long it’ll take for the homeowner to figure out what happened? And do something about it?

RECLAIMING PATHWAY?

I love Mexican tulip poppies (Hunnemannia fumariifolia), a short-lived perennial native to the Chihuahuan Desert. Our original plant was a volunteer seedling that came from who knows where, and it’s been reseeding in random spots in the front yard. I usually let it do its thing, wherever it wants to do it, but I’m getting to the point where I want to reclaim my pathway. But then, I’ve been thinking that for months and I still haven’t done anything about it. The flowers are just too pretty.

PLUMERIA TEMPTATION

Just recently I told Kyle that if I ever see a plumeria around here, I’ll give it another shot. (Plumerias are tropical shrubs that do NOT like cold winters.) Well, look what I saw today at our local Costco. I was soooooooo tempted, but sanity prevailed. Except now I have a bad case of missing out syndrome. Maybe I’ll go back tomorrow and get one....

MISCELLANEOUS

A few more random observations:

Aloe inermis is native to the Arabian peninsula (western Yemen) and hence used to extraordinary heat. But still, mine is curling up in on itself, looking like a giant spider ready to pounce.

Aeonium ‘Wheel of Captivation’ from Little Prince of Oregon, a nursery I got to visit in April. Native to the Canary Islands with its moderate climate, aeoniums go dormant, or semi dormant, in our summer-dry climate. This one is definitely holding its own, which makes me happy.

Ceratozamias are cycads native to the mountainous and tropical forests of Mexico and Central America. As such, they struggle in our hot summers. I’ve tried several species of Ceratozamia, and they’ve all died. Except for one, this one: Ceratozamia hildae. I have two plants, one in the front yard and one in the back, and both are still alive, years after I bought them. Beyond the fact that they are super cool plants, I love the fact that new leaves emerge bronze!

POOR STELLA

Stella is used to two walks a day, mid morning and late afternoon. This past week, with afternoon temperatures in the mid-90s, her second walk of the day was either delayed or canceled altogether. Stella eventually got resigned to the situation:

Now that temperatures are back to normal, Stella gets her routine pre-dinner walk and is happy. And if Stella is happy, I’m happy.

Teeth

2026-08-10T17:41:29.303-07:00

If you asked me what feature I love most about agaves, aloes, and cohorts, I wouldn’t know what to say. At least not right away. But if you pushed a little harder, I’d probably blurt out, “the teeth!”

Yep, the teeth. Those small, pointy, and often sharp protrusions along the leaf margin.

Why? Because they’re fierce (those plants know how to defend themselves!), and they’re oh so photogenic.

See for yourself!

Agave horrida

Agave oteroi

Agave oteroi ‘Filigree’

Agave (potatorum ‘Spawn’ × isthmensis) × shawii

Agave impressa

Agave bovicornuta ‘Holstein’

Agave pablocarrilloi × isthmensis

Agave ‘Baccarat’

Agave ‘Sierra Azul’

Dyckia ‘Snaggletooth’

Hechtia argentea

Bromelia pinguin ‘Qué será’

Hechtia epigyna

Aloe aculeata ‘Super Spiney’

Aloe erinacea

Aloe erinacea hybrid

Aloe ankoberensis

Aloe ‘Swordfish’

Aloe ‘Wahoo’

Aloe ‘Sawbones’

If you’re wondering what the point of this post is: There isn’t one, other than to show you how frigging cool these plants are.

Blood, sweat, and bromeliads: tackling an overgrown dyckia clump

2026-08-05T18:17:20.648-07:00

One of the plants Kyle and I got from San Marcos Growers on our recent Santa Barbara trip is Dyckia platyphylla. This terrestrial bromeliad is attractive, easy to grow, hardy for a dyckia (15-20°F), and yet hard to find. I don’t know why. Maybe because dyckias in general don’t get much love? Both Kyle and I think it would make a great landscape plant in zone 8b and up.

We bought three 2-gallon pots of Dyckia platyphylla at San Marcos, intending to divide the clumps into individual plants for future sales.

Three dense clumps of Dyckia platyphylla

I decided to tackle one of the clumps to see how easy (or hard) it is to divide:

Many individual rosettes...

...packed together tightly

Below is the unpotted clump. I had recently watered it, but you wouldn’t know looking at the root ball. It was so dense that water wasn’t able to penetrate it to any meaningful degree.

Since the root ball was so dry, I soaked it overnight:

Better.

The next step was to assemble the tools: my Root Slayer soil knife (by the same company that makes my trusty Root Slayer shovel) and a generic bread knife.

Root Slayer soil knife and bread knife

The most important item, though, was protection for my hands. Dyckias are fiercely armed and quickly draw blood. For the last year or so, I’ve been using ThornArmor 3092 gloves made by HexArmor. They’re specially made for handling cacti and other thorny plants, and I’ve been using them a lot when working around poky succulents. In fact, I can pick up and carry a cactus using nothing else but these gloves.

When I bought my gloves, they were in the $40 range; now they’re a little over $60. Yikes. But even at $60, I would consider them essential.

ThornArmor 3092 gloves

I first cut away the fibrous root mass that had encircled the root ball using the bread knife. This sounds easier than it was. I had to use quite a bit of elbow grease because the roots were tough.

Initially I’d thought I could simply pull off entire rosettes, one at a time. That works with some plants (see below), but definitely not with this one. The rosettes were so firmly attached that I had to push my soil knife deep into the clump and use quite a bit of force to pry off the rosettes. In hindsight, a small folding saw like this might have been a better choice. Or better yet, a reciprocating saw (Sawzall). Lesson learned for next time.

After I had freed the individual rosettes, I pulled off most of the dried leaves. I didn’t want to go too far, so I left some that had dried tips but were otherwise still functional, i.e. capable of performing photosynthesis.

After an hour of sweat and tears (no blood, thanks to the ThornArmor gloves), this is what I ended up with: 13 pots — 12 with individual plants, one with a small cluster. All the pieces I pulled/pried off had at least some roots, so they should establish pretty quickly, especially in this heat.

Remember how I said I thought that it would be easy to pull rosettes off the Dyckia platyphylla clump, but that it wasn’t?

Here’s a succulent where it was easy: Agave oteroi ‘Filigree’.

Agave oteroi ‘Filigree’ was selected at San Marcos “for its tight growth and long eyelash like spines on the margin. It originated as a seedling from seed we collected in February 2005 from an Agave oteroi ... that bloomed in Santa Barbara succulent enthusiast Dr. David Tufenkian’s north Goleta, California garden in 2004. San Marcos Growers named and introduced this plant in 2010.”

The typical form of Agave oteroi ‘Filigree‘ is solitary. San Marcos also discovered a variety they call ‘Filigree Devil‘, “a small tight mounding agave with 3 inch wide tightly clustered rosettes.” What you see below is in between the two: tightly clustered rosettes, but larger than the typical ‘Filigree Devil’.

It was difficult watering the clump efficiently, as evidenced by the many dead leaves, so pulling it apart was the only logical thing to do. And it was soooooo much easier than the Dyckia platyphylla clump above!

It was so easy pulling individual rosettes off the clump

When I was done, I had 11 one-gallon pots, most with one rosette per pot, a few with multiples:

If all things go as planned, some of these will be available at our upcoming fall plant sale, both Dyckia platyphylla and Agave oteroi ‘Filigree’ (ish).

Cool plants from the lab: visiting Micro Paradox

2026-08-01T17:37:23.729-07:00

As you may know, quite a few of the plants we love and have growing in our gardens aren’t propagated vegetatively, through seeds or offsets, but start life in a lab. This includes not only many of my beloved agaves and mangaves, but also most commercially grown perennials and even the orchids you find in grocery stores and garden centers. And if you think plant tissue culture (micropropagation) is a relatively new thing, you might be surprised to find out that orchids have been tissue cultured on a large scale since the 1960s.

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to go on a field trip with my volunteer group from the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery to visit a plant tissue culture lab in the Sacramento area. I already had a high-level understanding of what tissue culture is and how it’s done, but I had never seen a lab in operation, so I was stoked to go.

I read somewhere that a tissue culture lab is essentially a plant factory combined with a surgical operating room. That’s a good comparison. Instead of growing plants in soil from seeds or traditional cuttings, technicians culture plants in sterile, nutrient-rich gels inside glass or plastic containers. This allows the lab to produce many thousands of genetically identical, pathogen-free plants in a relatively small footprint.

Micro Paradox facility (photo courtesy of Micro Paradox)

The company we visited is Micro Paradox, a tissue culture lab that propagates a wide variety of plants — from succulents (including agaves) and California natives to shade trees and house plants all the way to commercial nut and fruit tree rootstocks. Founded in 2010 by plant pathologist Dr. Parm Randhawa, the company was named after the Paradox hybrid walnut rootstock, a cross between the black walnut (Juglans hindsii) native to California and the English walnut (Juglans regia). The black walnut is perfectly adapted to northern California’s mediterranean climate but produces inferior fruit. The English walnut produces superior fruit, but it struggles in California. Paradox combines the best of both — vigorous growth and high-quality nuts — but it had historically been difficult to propagate uniformly from cuttings. Micro Paradox found a way to produce uniform clones through tissue culture, a real breakthrough.

Nut and fruit tree rootstocks — primarily walnuts and almonds, but also cherries, peaches, and nectarines — are still Micro Paradox’s bread and butter, but in the last 10 years, the company has branched out into ornamentals and now produces hundreds of different varieties of everything from agaves, hesperaloes, and yuccas to tropical plants like bananas, philodendrons, alocasias, and ficus. In fact, agaves have become a focus; Micro Paradox now produces a couple dozen species and cultivars, including some variegated sports that were discovered in-house and are only available from Micro Paradox.

So much for the background. Let’s take a closer look at how things work at Micro Paradox. Vice president Simran Randhawa gave us an in-depth tour of the various areas. I took photos and will attempt to describe the various stages in easy-to-understand language.

The first stage is to prepare the tissue culture media — essentially containers partially filled with a gel-like substance (typically water and agar gum as well as macro- and micronutrients and precise ratios of growth hormones). Absolutely sterile conditions are mandatory in the media room because even a single fungal spore or other contaminant can ruin a batch.

Autoclaves (steam sterilizers) in the media room

The word “agave” gets my attention anytime

In the transfer area, technicians work under laminar flow hoods that continuously blow ultra-clean filtered air toward the work surface, pushing away any airborne molds and bacteria that would otherwise cause contamination.

The blue rectangles are the tops of the laminar flow hoods

In the transfer area, three main procedures take place:

1. Small pieces of tissue (“explant”) from the donor plant are sterilized and placed on fresh gel media enriched with cytokinins, plant hormones that promote cell division. The explants are then moved to the grow room (see below) where they develop side shoots.

Sterile workstations

2. A single plant produces multiple side shoots, which are continuously subcultured (divided and transferred to fresh media) every few weeks.

Technician dividing plantlets

Sterile conditions are critical

As you can see below, these pieces are surprisingly tiny. It’s pretty miraculous that they will ultimately result in real plants.

The photos below were taken in the grow room. I loved the racks illuminated by grow lights:

The lighting in the grow room is almost cinematic

Glass vials with plantlets

3. In the transfer area, individual plantlets are transferred to a medium containing auxins, hormones that induce root formation. The sterile containers then go back to the grow room. Within weeks, the root system begins to form.

When they’ve reached their target size, the plantlets are moved from the grow room to a non-sterile area outside the lab. There they are taken out of the growing medium and potted into a porous soil mix.

Agave trays waiting for agave babies

Because the plantlets have spent their lives so far in ~100% humidity inside sterile containers, they now move through a series of greenhouses with decreasing humidity levels to get used to the outdoor environment.

Greenhouses, our group on the right

I love seeing endless expanses of small plants, and the Micro Paradox greenhouses didn’t disappoint.

Micro Paradox has been tissue culturing Agave ‘Blue Glow’ in large quantities, and over the years they have discovered several variegated sports that developed spontaneously in the lab. A few of them, ‘Frost Glow’ and ‘California Glow’, have been put into production:

Agave ‘California Glow’

Agave ‘Frost Glow’

Agave ‘Blue Glow’ with half-moon variegation

Agave ‘Blue Glow’ with various forms of variegation, including medio-picta, streaking, half-moon, and marginated

This unnamed ‘Blue Glow’ sport with very pronounced medio-picta variegation (creamy stripe in the center) is particularly striking:

As I mentioned earlier, Micro Paradox also produces a number of edible tropicals like bananas as well as house plants, including alocasias and colocasias, monsteras and philodendrons, and ficus.

Red ornamental pineapple (Ananas ‘Mila’)

Blood banana (Musa acuminata ‘Zebrina’)

Philodendron erubescens ‘White Wizard’

Alocasia ‘Pink Dragon’

After leaving the humidity- and temperature-controlled greenhouses, many of the plants (especially the succulents) end up outside. Some are set aside for direct-to-consumer sales on Micro Paradox’s retail website, MicroStarts.com:

Others are being grown on to larger sizes for eventual sales to local retail nurseries:

Several things stood out during our visit: The facility is much larger than I had expected. As many as 800,000 individual plants are in propagation. That’s a number I have a hard time wrapping my head around.

Judging by what VP Simran Randhawa said, the company is not content simply relying on what has worked in the past. While nut and fruit tree rootstocks will always be a major part of their operations, they’re constantly looking for promising new material to add to their inventory. I found this sense of curiosity to be very refreshing. Of course, I hope that this will include many more agaves and other succulents.

The bulk of Micro Paradox’s sales is wholesale to other growers and retail nurseries, but a selection of their plants are available to consumers through their Etsy store and their MicroStarts retail website.

The MicroStarts website also has a number of articles that deliver real information instead of the usual marketing fluff. Topics range from the basics of tissue culture (highly recommended if you want to learn more) to articles comparing different varieties of agaves, hesperaloes, elephant ears, blackberries, mulberries, tomatoes, and peppers.

One of my ‘Pixie’ agaves, now 3" across. I expect it to get a little bigger, but not much.

Last year, I ordered a 4-pack of Agave ‘Pixie’, a dwarf mutation of ‘Blue Glow’, and was very happy with the quality. At the time, I had no idea who is behind MicroStarts — and that I would eventually get to visit their facility!

Designer Mat McGrath's garden at age 4½: back yard

2026-07-28T10:29:52.036-07:00

This is the continuation of my post about Bay Area artist Mat McGrath’s garden. Click here to see the front yard the way it looks right now, in late July 2026.

I already showed you the photo below in part 1, but it’s a great visual aid for orientation. The front yard is to the left of driveway, the slope on the right, and the back yard behind the van.

To help you visualize where the different areas in the back yard are located, here’s the 2021 listing photo that shows what the property looked like when Mat and Mali bought it. Each area in question is circled in yellow.

Just a couple of photos of the slope above the driveway (circled in yellow above):

The next area is right behind the gate:

The back yard has a multi-level terraced retaining wall on one side (on the right in the photos below). This gives Mat and Mali extra space — a lot of extra space.

The planting area at ground level has gone through some significant changes. Mat has removed most of the soft-leaved succulents that used to live here (check this photo from October 2024 for comparison) to better display his collection of found metal objects.

The concrete lounger is by Manos.

The founder of Manos was a neighbor of Mat’s at his old place in the Berkeley Hills.

The shadiest spot in the back yard is this corner next to the slider

Gold fish in a large bowl, plus a beautiful selection of tropical foliage, including this spectacular Vriesea fosteriana

Across the patio, against the wall of the two-story addition, one of the warmest spots in the garden (remember, this is Rodeo, a couple of miles from the Pacific, with a very mild climate where it rarely gets super hot or cold):

Reminder to myself: try Mangave ‘Mission to Mars’ and Furcraea mcdougalii in pots

Mat loves recycled objects. Many came from Urban Ore in Berkeley, just 15 miles (20 minutes) down the road.

Looking north, terraced retaining wall on the left

Looking south, terraced retaining wall on the right. The white “rock” is a Soma Stone by Manos. As I mentioned earlier, the founder of Manos was a neighbor of Mat’s at his previous house.

Next area: up the steps and towards the upper deck on the right

Steps up towards the upper garden

The small tree on the right is Cussonia paniculata, a select clone that Flora Grubb carried a few years ago. It’s arguably the most beautiful form of the Canary Island cabbage tree.

Cussonia paniculata, Flora Grubb clone. Most Cussonia paniculata I’ve seen tend to lean, but this one is much more upright, maybe because it branches relatively low, which distributes the weight more evenly.

Just above the steps, to the left: shrubby impatiens, ferns...

...and billbergia (‘Hallelujah’ or similar)

Billbergia flowers, large and complex

Another ×Vriecantarea ‘Julietta’

Now we’re on the upper level of the back yard. The slope with the terraced retaining wall is outside of the frame on the left.

The deck near the top of the slope is up next:

Standing on the deck, looking north

Another Ensete ventricosum ‘Maurelii’ on the left

Mat made the shovel sculpture

Speaking of Mat, here he is

The planting strip above the deck is packed with a huge variety of succulents as well as vines and shrubs

Looking north from the far side of the deck

Several kinds of leucadendrons planted in the strip below the deck

Bromeliad wall

Looking south towards the street

The plantings below are on the slope above the driveway (more photos of this area in part 1)

Check out the license plate on Mat’s van

The remaining photos below are of the upper area of the back yard:

The plantings in this area are a combination of landscape succulents like agaves and aeoniums, tropical plants, and even some fruit trees

Large-leafed and flowering tropicals thrive here, no doubt because of the sunny and mild climate and generous watering

Alstroemeria ‘Indian Summer’ (on the right above and below) makes an appearance in several spots, both in the front yard and the back yard

Mangave ‘Life on Mars’, a variegated sport of ‘Mission to Mars’

One last wide-angle shot looking northeast

Graptopetalum paraguayense draping over an old tree fern trunk

And finally, some drone footage Mat just posted on his Farallon Gardens Instagram — short and sweet, and showing off his garden better than any of my photos can:

I’ll have another update of Mat’s garden in the late fall. In the meantime, check out my earlier posts if you haven’t already:

RELATED POSTS

Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 4½: front yard (July 2026)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 4½: back yard (July 2026)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 4 (November 2025)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3½: front yard (May 2025)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3½: back yard (May 2025)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3: front yard (October 2024)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3: back yard (October 2024)
Mat McGrath’s new one-of-a-kind Bay Area garden: front yard (June 2023)
Mat McGrath’s new one-of-a-kind Bay Area garden: back yard (June 2023)

To see more of Mat’s professional garden projects, go to the website of his business, Farallon Gardens.

To see Mat’s art, check out his Instagram account or go to his personal website, mathewmcgrath.com.

Designer Mat McGrath's garden at age 4½: front yard

2026-07-22T16:20:12.724-07:00

Bay Area-based artist Mat McGrath (Farallon Gardens) and his wife Mali moved to the East Bay town of Rodeo in the fall of 2021. The 14,000 sq. ft. property they bought was a blank slate: a bit of lawn and lots of bark mulch and dry grass. Undaunted and with help from Mat’s crew, they immediately went to work and created a spectacular garden.

I’ve been following and documenting their progress since June 2023 (see links at the end of this post) and recently had the opportunity to see what the garden looks like at age 4½. As before, I’ll break up my post into two parts: front yard and back yard.

Let’s start on the sidewalk. The difference between Mat’s front yard and the neighbor’s couldn’t be more stark:

Many words come to mind when you look at the plantings. Minimalist is not one of them. Neither is subdued:

Vibrant, cheerful, full of life: that’s more like it.

Slope on the right, driveway in the middle, front garden proper on the left:

Notice the license plate on Mat’s van!

More is more...is more. That’s my mantra, too. Maybe that’s why I connect with Mat’s garden so deeply.

The spheres of blue-gray leaves are Xanthorrhoea glauca, grass trees from eastern Australia. Mat bought three 15-gallon specimens from San Marcos Growers five years ago.

This area looked much sparser three years ago.

Walkway to the front door:

More blue leaves (Agave ovatifolia, Brahea armata), contrasted by blanket flowers (Gaillardia)...

...and ×Vriecantarea ‘Julietta’, a terrestrial bromeliad with striking plum-colored leaves:

×Vriecantarea ‘Julietta’

Three years ago, this area was a wildflower meadow. Check it out here and then compare with this:

Along the back, three of my favorites are still there: red Abyssinian banana (Ensete ventricosum ‘Maurelii’), bell reed (Cannomois grandis), and sunshine conebush (Leucadendron ‘Safari Sunshine’):

The orange flowers on the left are from Alstroemeria ‘Indian Summer’, a well-behaved Peruvian lily (unlike other alstroemerias that are hell-bent on conquering the world):

Alstroemeria ‘Indian Summer

×Vriecantarea ‘Julietta’

Mat also has several naked ladies (Amaryllis belladonna) and ×Amarygia (Amaryllis belladonna crossed with Brunsvigia josephinae) in different shades of pink:

The area next to the front door is dominated by an Aloidendron ‘Hercules’:

Aloidendron ‘Hercules’...

...is taller than 6 ft now...

...with Mat for scale

Of course I was focused on agaves and aloes:

Agave guadalajarana and Aloe broomii

Another perfectly grown Agave guadalajarana

Agave nickelsiae and bowling balls. They seem to be a thing in Berkeley gardens — see here.

Impossible to miss near the front door:

Tradescantia pallida ‘Purple Heart’ on the left, related Callisia fragrans on the right

I have Tradescantia pallida ‘Purple Heart’ in the back yard, and it’s done great. Callisia fragrans was new to me. Mat sent me home with a half dozen offsets, so I’ll soon have this growing in my garden.

Finally, a “before” photo from 2021:

Listing photo from 2021. So much bark!

Insane, right?

Check back in a couple of days for a tour of the back yard.

RELATED POSTS

Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 4 (November 2025)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3½: front yard (May 2025)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3½: back yard (May 2025)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3: front yard (October 2024)
Designer Mat McGrath’s garden at age 3: back yard (October 2024)
Mat McGrath’s new one-of-a-kind Bay Area garden: front yard (June 2023)
Mat McGrath’s new one-of-a-kind Bay Area garden: back yard (June 2023)

To see Mat's art, check out his Instagram account or go to his website, mathewmcgrath.com.

A bit of agave magic

2026-07-21T18:25:32.617-07:00

One of my favorite plants from our recent Santa Barbara trip to San Marcos Growers is Agave horrida. The clone most frequently seen in cultivation, tissue-cultured by Altman Plants, is very nice (here is Kyle’s specimen), but the San Marcos plants are even more beautiful:

Agave horrida from San Marcos Growers

Take a good look at the photo above, especially at the marginal teeth and the spines at the end of the leaf tips. They’re light gray, right?

Imagine my surprise when I watered my plant:

Same plant with wet teeth and spines

Whaaaat? The teeth and spines are almost black now!

Here’s a short video that shows the transformation even better:

What kind of alchemy is that?

I knew it had to be an optical phenomenon, and Google provided the answer: Agave teeth and spines change color when wet primarily because the water temporarily alters the way light reflects through their translucent outer layers. This highlights the underlying pigments and microscopic textures, creating a deeper, darker hue that vanishes as the teeth and spines dries out.

If your eyes are starting to glaze over, stop here. If you’re still mentally engaged, here is a closer look at the mechanisms behind this color shift, as per the all-knowing internet:

Dry spines often have a microscopic waxy coating that scatters light, making the color appear muted or gray. When moisture is introduced, it fills these microscopic gaps, acting as a clear lens that allows light to penetrate deeper and reflect the natural melanin (dark color) of the spine.
Some agaves absorb dew or rainwater directly through their spines and specialized cells. As the spine absorbs moisture, turgor pressure (water weight within the cells) increases, which can slightly expand the tissue and alter the color.

Physics was one of my least favorite subjects in high school. I won’t profess to know exactly what makes my Agave horrida change color, so I’m OK with calling it magic.

This and that, mid-July 2026

2026-07-17T12:45:26.085-07:00

Sometimes it seems not much is happening, but when I look at my photos, I realize there’s more going on than I give the garden, the plants, and myself credit for.

On that note, another “This and that” post with random sightings that I hope you’ll find interesting.

BROMELIAD FLOWERS

I’ve lost most of the tags on my bromeliads so I can’t tell you what these are, other than Neoregelia and Billbergia, but the flowers are cool because they’re so different from the other kinds of flowers I usually see.

Many neoregelias produce a flush of color in the center just before they start to bloom

The flowers themselves are tiny and barely emerge from the cup. The leaves blush in vibrant colors to attract pollinators, which might otherwise have a hard time finding the inconspicuous flowers.

In contrast to neoregelias, billbergia flowers are highly visible

They emerge from the center on a long stem and feature colorful petals (red in this case) and bracts (greenish yellow, pink, and purple on this one)

CACTUS FLOWERS

The biggest wave of cactus flowers happened in April and May, but some echinopsis hybrids produce sporadic flushes throughout the summer. Here are several that bloomed in the last couple of weeks. These pops of color are a welcome sight when it’s 95° or 100° outside.

Echinopsis ‘June Noon’

Echinopsis ‘Sex on the Beach’

Echinopsis ‘Apricot Glow’

OTHER FLOWERS

There are lots of salvias in bloom right now, but you know what they look like. Instead, here are three plants with flowers that are more unusual.

➀ Hesperaloe parviflora ‘Straight Up Red’ is advertised as “an everblooming yucca that produces a summer-long display of red-pink flowers held on strongly upright growing flower spikes.” I bought it because I wanted a hesperaloe that isn’t as floppy as the species. I’m a little disappointed because I expected a) a more straight-up inflorescence (as the name says), and b) flowers that are more red than pink. Other than that, it’s a nice plant.

Hesperaloe parviflora ‘Straight Up Red’

➁ Hechtia stenopetala planted in a chimney flue liner in the driveway bed has three tall inflorescences with countless fluffy flowers. While the individual flowers are insignificant, the overall effect is striking:

Hechtia stenopetala

➂ Boophone disticha is a slow-growing geophyte (aka bulb) from South Africa. It forms a beautiful fan of leaves in the cooler seasons and goes dormant in the summer — at least sometimes. The potted specimen in the first photo lost its leaves months ago...

Boophone disticha (not the one currently in bloom)

...but another one, in the sidewalk bed, retains at least some leaves year-round AND is now flowering for the first time. That’s a nice surprise because it usually takes anywhere from 5 to 10 years for them to bloom (the bulb has to be a certain size). The flowers appear in large, pincushion-like umbels that can contain 150 to 300 individual florets.

Boophone disticha flower

MORE BULBILS

I recently wrote a post about mangave bulbils. Apparently, ×Graptoveria ‘Fred Ives’, a cross between Graptopetalum paraguayense and Echeveria gibbiflora, is able to produce bulbils, too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it do that before.

×Graptoveria ‘Fred Ives’

AGAVES ABOUT TO BLOOM

It’s been a while since I had an agave flower in the garden. That’s about to change. One, possibly two, smallish agaves planted not far from each other in one of the front yard succulent mounds are reaching the end of their lives. Blooming is a terminal event for most agaves so the blooming rosette will die. However, both of these have pups that will carry on.

The first one is Agave × leopoldii, supposedly a hybrid between the two closely related species Agave filifera and Agave schidigera. It’s a relatively common plant and a good choice for smaller gardens.

Agave × leopoldii on July 8. The flower stalk is barely poking out of the rosette

Agave × leopoldii on July 15. I think the kink in the flower stalk is because it got stuck while it was emerging.

July 16 update: I snapped off the flower stalk as my foot got caught on it. Grrrrr.

The second one is Agave toumeyana var. bella. Compared to the species, the variety bella (Latin for “beautiful”) supposedly has more, and shorter, leaves forming attractive dense rosettes. Like Agave × leopoldii above, it has curling threads on the leaf margins. Because it only gets 1-2 ft. wide and less than 1 ft. tall, it also makes a great choice for gardens where space is at a premium.

Agave toumeyana var. bella

And since we’re talking about agaves, here’s a beauty shot of one that (hopefully) still has many years ahead of it before it flowers and dies:

Agave ‘Sierra Azul’ (Agave cerulata × kristenii)

NEW GROWTH

I love seeing new growth on cacti, especially on those that are slow. New growth means the cactus is fine, doing its thing.

New growth on cardón (Pachycereus pringlei). The new red spines make for a good photo.

New growth on this Echinopsis ‘Vers 16’ × ‘Flying Saucer’ means new babies emerging from the ground

TINY CACTUS SEEDLINGS

As I mentioned in this post, I collected seeds from two echinopsis hybrids, ‘Magic Fire’ and ‘Pink Stripes’, and sowed them right away. Germination was great for both of them. Here are the seedlings from ‘Magic Fire’, if you can even call them seedlings when they’re this tiny — maybe I should call them germlings? Zoom in and look for the teeny pink orbs.

Echinopsis ‘Magic Fire’ seedlings

ONE AGAVE FROM OUR SAN MARCOS GROWERS HAUL IN MY GARDEN

Most of the plants Kyle and I got at San Marcos Growers last weekend are still parked at a friend’s property. Each of us took a few favorites home with us. Here’s one of mine in its new home in the backyard:

Agave oteroi ‘Filigree’, a spectacular selection found at San Marcos Growers

Who says agaves don’t go with begonias?

I’m sure that as soon as I post this, new photos for the next “This and that” post will start to accumulate. That’s fine with me.