Succulents and More™

Tour of the front yard, early November 2026

2026-11-01T00:30:00.000-07:00

I haven’t done a proper tour of our own garden in a while. Time to fix that. This post shows the front yard at the end of October 2026. I’ll have a tour of the backyard in due time.

Look at this Google satellite photo of our property to get your bearing. The tour starts at the far end of the L-shaped sidewalk bed (on the right in the photo below) and then continues in the direction of the arrow:

↷ Our property ends (or begins) at the communal mailboxes on the right:

↷ The apple-green aloe is Aloe vaombe × spectabilis:

↷ The tall orange-red aloe is Aloe ‘Erik the Red’. It's stressed because it didn't receive much water over the summer. As we head into the cool and rainy season, the leaves will turn green and plump up.

↷ The silver leaves belong to Eucalyptus macrocarpa, a mallee (tall shrub with multiple trunks) from Western Australia where it’s commonly known as “mottlecah” or “rose of the west:”

↷ On the right is Agave ovatifolia, in the middle Yucca rostrata:

↷ To the left of Yucca rostrata is a hybrid between Aloidendron ‘Hercules’ and Aloidendron dichotomum, which makes it ¾ Aloidendron dichotomum and ¼ Aloidendron barberae, for those of you keeping track:

↷ The small tree is a mystery manzanita hybrid originally found at the Ruth Bancroft Garden (Arctostaphylos ‘Ruth Bancroft’):

↷ To the left of the manzanita: Aloe marlothii, Yucca linearifolia, and Aloe ‘Superman’ (Aloe cameronii × white-flowering Aloe ferox):

↷ On the left: Yucca linearifolia and Aloe ‘Superman’ (Aloe cameronii × white-flowering Aloe ferox):

↷ Lots of aloes here:

↷ Aloe labworana is the first aloe to flower in our garden, kicking off what will be a six-month aloe bloom season:

↷ This area is under the Santa Cruz Island ironwood tree (Lyonothamnus floribundus ssp. aspleniifolius):

↷ The apple-green agave in the center is Agave mitis ‘Chocolate Edge’, flanked on the left by Agave ocahui and ×Mangave ‘Bloodspot’ × Agave oteroi. All the way on the left is Aloe ‘Yemeni Gold’:

↷ This is the corner of the L-shaped sidewalk bed, Agave shawii on the right, Agave pelona and Aloe taurii in the center (with Aloe ‘Birds and Bees’ behind them against the fence). The ice plant at bottom right is Malephora crocea; it’s in bloom virtually year round, even in the winter.

↷ Alternate view, Arctostaphylos ‘Louis Baker’ on the right:

↷ In the middle, Banksia blechnifolia, a low-growing Australian member of the protea family, has been a stellar performer in what is both the coldest and the hottest corner of the front yard. Maybe because its leaves are so thick and stiff? If you live in zone 9 and above and ever come across Banksia blechnifolia, grab it!

↷ Rounding the corner, moving north:

↷ On the right, Aloe speciosa × barberae, another Nick Deinhart hybrid, Opuntia sulphurea in the Corten pedestal planter on the left, Agave yucuanensis in front of it:

↷ From right to left: Aloe ‘Scarlet Rockets’, Aloe speciosa × barberae, and Opuntia sulphurea:

↷ Aloe castilloniae× ferox, a Nick Deinhart hybrid on the left, Agave nickelsiae on the right, Ruschia lineolata ‘Nana’ between them:

↷ Wider view, with Agave yucuanensis and Opuntia sulphurea on the right, Agave ovatifolia ‘Jack Frost’ in the middle, and Aloe marlothii ‘Utrecht’ and ×Mangave ‘Permanent Wave’ all the way on the left:

↷ From right to left: ‘Meerlo’ variegated lavender (Lavandula × allardii ‘Meerlo’), Agave nuusaviorum, Agave shawii × isthmensis, and Agave ocahui:

↷ Agave ocahui surrounded by golden barrel cacti (Kroenleinia grusonii):

↷ Driveway end of the L-shaped sidewalk bed. Getting some aloes established here; I have too many aloes looking for a home!

↷ Walking into the inside part of the front yard. I love how the bamboo on the right and the ponytail palms on the left form a leafy tunnel:

↷ The bases of the ponytail palms (Beaucarnea recurvata)...

↷ ... have gotten so big:

↷ Front door bed. The corner on the left is only a month old (read this post for details), but it’s settling nicely. The mild weather has helped.

↷ View from just outside the front door, looking northwest:

↷ View from just outside the front door, looking west:

↷ I redid this bed in early September (read this post for details):

↷ I love these honey onyx rocks:

↷ My feeble attempt at decorating for Halloween:

↷ Hechtia argentea lives up to its name (argentea means “silvery” in Latin):

↷ It took a while, but a solid tapestry of succulent textures is finally coming together:

↷ View towards the ponytail palms and front door, standing at the foot of the smaller succulent mound inside the front yard fence:

↷ Looking towards the driveway:

↷ Fence separating the inside of the front yard from the sidewalk bed:

↷ Smaller succulent mound on the right, larger mound on the left:

↷ This barrel cactus (Ferocactus herrerae) has a pronounced lean. It’s got to weigh several hundred pounds now:

↷ This vignette in the larger succulent mounds caught my eye:

↷ Larger succulent mound on the left, smaller mound on the right:

↷ Smaller succulent mound:

↷ Smaller succulent mound, driveway at top center:

↷ View towards the succulent mounds from the front porch:

I suppose I could simply have made a video, but I still find it challenging. I do have a drone now (just a barebones model, nothing fancy), so at some point I’ll have the skill to fly it without crashing and I’ll do a drone flyover of the front yard.

Plant sale and open garden on Halloween

2026-10-27T11:16:55.423-07:00

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, Kyle and will have a plant sale on Halloween to make room for — you guessed it — more plants. Both of us are passionate about propagation so we’re always making more. We just can’t help ourselves.

K & G

The sale will be at our friend Eric’s property in West Sacramento, and it will coincide with Eric’s open garden for the Sacramento Cactus and Succulent Society (SCSS). You don’t have to be a member of the SCSS to see Eric’s garden or come to our sale.

WHAT:

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

WHEN:

Saturday, October 31, 2026
10 am to 2 pm

WHERE:

West Sacramento
(email me for address)

I blogged about Eric’s place earlier in the summer (here). The central area of his garden is a unique collection of metal containers Eric made from objects he found on his property, which has been in the family for 50+ years. They’re filled with a wide variety of succulents — cacti large and small, agaves, aloes, etc. I’ve seen many gardens, but never anything quite like this.

Here are a few photos I took last weekend:

Eric's shade house

Our plant sale will be in the shade house you see in the photo above. Over the last five months, Kyle and I have gradually moved more and more plants from our own backyard “nurseries” to Eric’s. Without this space, Kyle and I wouldn’t be able to do what we’re doing. We’re very lucky to have found a situation that works so well for everybody involved.

Kyle and I aren’t in this to make money. Our goal is to share our passion with others and to bring landscape-ready succulents to Northern California. Most of the plants we have are simply not available in mainstream nurseries.

Here are some photos of the inside of the shade house and the plants that will be for sale:

Sale plants on the left, our growing area on the right (sorry for the contrasty light)

Companion plants

Aloes...

...and more aloes

Lots of aloe

Larger agaves, too

And a few terrestrial bromeliads like hechtias and dyckias

Here’s a list of plants we’ll have available:

Most plants will be $5, $10, $15, or $20. Some larger specimens will be priced a bit higher. Cash only. Please bring your own box.

Coincidentally, 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. Our sale goes from 10 am to 2 pm.

And if that isn’t enough, the West Sacramento IKEA is just 10 minutes from Eric’s place.

It looks like the weather will be cooperating, too:

I don’t want to post the address of Eric’s property publicly. If you’re interested in joining us, please email me and I’ll give you directions.

'Mike's Fuzzy Wuzzy': another stellar groundcover

2026-10-25T00:30:00.000-07:00

Last month, I introduced you to one of my favorite companion plants for succulents, a groundcover from Europe called Artemisia pedemontana (read this post for details). Today, I want to show you another companion plant/groundcover that is becoming a staple in my garden, Plectranthus neochilus ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ — a fun name for a cool plant:

Plectranthus neochilus in Kyle’s garden, the variegated form ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ on the right and the all-green species on the left (actually, ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ losing its fuzzy wuzzy)

Like so many awesome plants, ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ was originally introduced by San Marcos Growers (SMG), the legendary Santa Barbara wholesale nursery that closed its doors earlier this year. For 40+ years, SMG was a reliable source for special plants; through introductions like ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’, its legacy will live on.

Here’s what the SMG website says about ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’:

A perennial, aromatic, succulent herb, which grows as a ground-hugging mat under 1 foot tall (a little taller in shade or when well-watered) with rounded slightly scalloped gray-green foliage with cream margins and deep blue and purple flowers that rise 3 to 6 inches above the foliage from spring.

We received this variegated plant from Mike Tully of Terra Sol Garden Center in Santa Barbara who told us he found it at Michael Kartuz’s nursery Kartuz Greenhouses. To honor both men we christened it "Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy" and we have grown it since 2012 using this name.

The species, Plectranthus neochilus, is native to dry bushlands and rocky woodlands in southern Africa. It goes by a number of common names, including lobster bush, fly bush, or mosquito bush. I’m surprised that none of these names allude to the pungent smell of its leaves, which is remarkably similar to cannabis. (It’s the terpenes.)

Enough of the boring botanical details. If you want to dive deeper, go to the San Marcos Growers website.

Over time, Plectranthus neochilus ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ forms a dense clump that is quite effective at suppressing weeds. It’s particularly striking in full bloom, like here in Bay Area artist and designer Mat McGrath’s spectacular garden in Rodeo:

Plectranthus neochilus, in full bloom in Mat McGrath’s garden

I bought my first ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ in 2015, but let it revert to all-green and eventually removed it. My current plantings came from my friend Kyle. I honestly can’t remember how many cuttings Kyle gave me — maybe five? — but I have it growing in multiple spots now. Plectranthus neochilus, like all plectranthus and the related coleus, is easy to propagate: simply cut or pinch off a piece and stick it in moist soil.

Here’s ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ in the L-shaped sidewalk bed in front of our house, planted a year ago from one cutting:

Plectranthus neochilus ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ in front of Agave yucuanensis (also from San Marcos)

A smaller clump in front of Hechtia epigyna

This start of a clump gets virtually no water, which explains its size, but it still looks good

Here’s the biggest clump in the front yard, surrounded by aloes, agaves, cacti, and even a banksia (on the left, behind Mangave ‘Purple People Eater’):

Close-up of ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ leaves

In the spring, I planted some ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ in the backyard as well. I bet it’ll be three times as wide this time next year.

Agave vilmoriniana ‘Stained Glass’ and Paleoagave bracteata at the top

‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ is surrounded by two other groundcovers whose performance has been a wonderful surprise (as in: not only have they not died during our hot summer, they have downright thrived)

They are Dichondra repens (green) and Dichondra sericea (silver). Their common name is ponysfoot, presumably because their leaves resemble miniature hooves? Green Acres in Sacramento has both of them in 4" pots. I bought several and split each one in two.

The biggest problem with ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’, if you want to call it that, is that a small percentage of leaves revert from their variegated form to all-green. The all-green leaves are more vigorous and will eventually crowd out the variegated leaves if you let them (the mistake I made years ago). What I do now is simply pinch off any green leaves I see, as I see them. It takes no time at all and ensures that your clump retains its variegation.

Plectranthus neochilus ‘Mike’s Fuzzy Wuzzy’ is tough and non-demanding, which makes it an ideal companion plant to succulents. And if the two dichondras in the backyard continue to perform well, they, too, will make it onto my list of recommended plants.

Pumpkins

2026-10-22T00:30:00.000-07:00

I’m not much into seasonal decorating because I feel like I just don’t have the eye for it, but there’s one thing I love at this time of year: pumpkins. When I was younger, you had very orange pumpkins and less orange pumpkins. Now you have not only a variety of colors, but also wrinkles, warts, and bumps.

Perfect encapsulation of the season, seen at Green Acres in Sacramento

The best pumpkin display I’ve seen this year was at the Sacramento location of Green Acres, a family-owned garden center chain. The sheer number of pumpkins, and the variety, was beautiful to behold:

And pumpkins at Costco (best price, of course):

I did get a net of small pumpkins at Costco and set up a modest display near the front door:

Costco pumpkins and Mangave ‘Bad Hair Day’ in a face pot

Maybe next year I should try to grow some ornamental pumpkins? They do take up a good chunk of real estate, but I should be able to find a sunny corner somewhere. If you grow your own pumpkins, please share your experience in the comments below.

This and that, mid-October 2026

2026-10-19T18:22:31.190-07:00

Another month (half gone already!), another “This and that” post covering random sights and happenings since the end of September.

Change is definitely in the air. Not just in the weather, but also in the quality of light. Daytime temperatures are still comfortable (highs in the 70s), and the light is much warmer than in the summer. All things considered, it’s a wonderful time of year.

MY ATTEMPT AT SEASONAL DECORATION

I have no natural knack for decorating, which is probably why I rarely even try. But this year, I’m making a bit of an attempt. Check out the wooden crate on the left:

I was given a face pot a while ago, and I filled it with a Mangave ‘Bad Hair Day’. The five mini pumpkins came from Costco. Maybe I’ll splurge on a larger pumpkin or two...

LATE-AFTERNOON GLOW

It seems no “This and that” post is complete without a couple of late-afternoon photos of the front yard. I do love how the sun lights up the plants:

SEDUCTIVELY FUZZY, POTENTIALLY PAINFUL

I noticed this prickly pear in Eric’s garden last week. The spines are long and soft and invite touching, but that could be a painful experience: Lurking below the spines (which are indeed on the soft side) are glochids — tiny hair-like bristles that embed in your skin and can be challenging to get out.

Opuntia hintonii

RARELY SHOWN AGAVES

Some agaves that rarely make an appearance on my blog. Not sure why; they’re all beautiful.

Agave desmetiana ‘Ivory Star’

Agave attenuata ‘Starstruck’, a new variegated agave from Altman Plants

Seed-grown Agave titanota from Nick Deinhart on the left, trio of Agave ‘Pixie’ from Micro Paradox on the right

Another seed-grown Agave titanota, this one from Brian Kemble, the curator of the Ruth Bancroft Garden

Agave nuusavorium, hard to pronounce (named after the Ñuu savi, the Mixtec people of the Guerrero and Oaxaca highlands in Mexico), but easy to appreciate

This seed-grown Agave impressa from Nick Deinhart is the most beautiful agave in my garden. Period. If anything ever happened to it, like rot from too much moisture in the winter, I would be extremely unhappy.

A hybrid between Mangave ‘Bloodspot’ and Agave utahensis var. eborispina, created by Nick Deinhart. I have two plants from the same seed batch, and they’re subtly, but noticeably, different. This is #1...

...and this is #2

WHY NOW???

I’ve had this Parodia magnifica for many years. It’s been in this spot for 3+ years, surviving several wet and cold winters. Why the heck is it rotting in what is supposed to be its growing season?

Rotting Parodia magnifica

I thought I could pop off and root these babies, but they weren’t viable

It seemed happy not long ago!

RANDOM FLOWERS

Just a couple of random flower sightings:

Calliandra ‘Sierra Star’ has been blooming nonstop since spring

Canna × generalis ‘Cleopatra’, a chimera known for its unpredictable mutations. The flowers are so cool.

FIRST ALOE FLOWERS

Aloe bloom season is still a few months away, but it’s very gratifying to see the first flower stalks emerge:

Aloe maculata × camperi ‘Cornuta’

DAMN RATS

Rats have been my mortal enemies this year, ever since they started to nibble on cacti in the greenhouse in the spring. I’ve caught 10+ of them in the last couple of months, but I bet for every rat I catch, there are 10 (or 100?) running free. Just as I let my guard down a bit, they’re back at doing what they do best: wreaking havoc to plants I like. Why is it that I never see rat damage to weeds?

Agave oteroi ‘Filigree’ with rat damage

VISITING AN AWESOME GARDEN

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit a garden in Sacramento that blew me away: mounds, rocks, and exactly the kinds of plants I love. I wasn’t there to take photos for a blog post (the light was too contrasty), but I’ll be back soon.

This honey onyx shelf is fantastic!

RANDOM GLOW

And finally a few glow-y pictures:

UC Davis Arboretum, on my walk with Stella on Sunday

Pink muhly grass (Muhlenbergia capillaris), one of my favorite sights in early fall

Temperatures in the low 70s are forecast to continue, no rain in sight, but things can change...

Micro Paradox revisited + plant sale haul

2026-10-14T18:29:09.416-07:00

At the end of July, I had the opportunity to visit Micro Paradox, a tissue-culture lab north of Sacramento, with my volunteer group from the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery. I learned so much that I arranged for a similar tour for the Sacramento Cactus and Succulent Society (SCSS). I expected a fair amount of interest, but I was blown away by how many people actually showed up: 22! Some traveled 1½ hours one-way.

SCSS group in front of Micro Paradox building, VP Simran Randhawa on the left under the handicap parking sign

Micro Paradox VP Simran Randhawa gave us an overview of what happens in the tissue-culture lab. (I won’t repeat what I already said in my previous Micro Paradox post — you can read it here.)

After we finished in the lab, Simran led us through the greenhouses (for young plants just leaving the TC lab) and shade houses (for slightly larger plants being acclimated to the outdoor environment). Micro Paradox has 125,000 sq. ft. of greenhouse and shade house space and 800,000 to 900,000 young plants in production. Let that sink in!

Here are a few short videos I took in the greenhouses:

So many plants...

Automatic irrigation in the tropical plants greenhouse...

A few tropicals...

Alocasia ‘Dwarf Amazonica’

Alocasia ‘Frydek Albo Variegata’

Below are small Agave ‘Blue Glow’ liners in one of the greenhouses:

Young tissue-culture liners of Agave ‘Blue Glow’

I don’t know how many ‘Blue Glow’ Micro Paradox has in production, but between the young plants in the greenhouses (like those below) and the larger ones in the shade houses outside, they number in the tens of thousands. And Micro Paradox is just one of several tissue-culture labs producing ‘Blue Glow’. Agave ‘Blue Glow’ is arguably the most popular landscape agave in California, so the demand is there.

As a plus, ‘Blue Glow’ really is a beautiful plant:

Agave ‘Blue Glow’ surrounded by Senecio mandraliscae in Morro Bay on California’s Central Coast

Below are several racks of larger Agave ‘Blue Glow’ liners at Micro Paradox ready to go to a customer:

I took the photos below at a recent Micro Paradox plant sale. For $150, you could fill a flat with 72 tissue-culture plugs (2½"). Here’s an example of such a plug:

Typical 2½" tissue-culture plug

Seeing how Micro Paradox produces so many units of ‘Blue Glow’...

Agave ‘Blue Glow’ plugs in the shade house at Micro Paradox

...it’s not surprising that cool sports have emerged. Somehow, even though tissue-cultured plants are genetically identical, crazy things can happen, like all kinds of variegation:

Agave ‘Blue Glow’ with marginal variegation (Micro Paradox calls it Agave ‘California Glow’)

Agave ‘Blue Glow’ with medial (central) variegation. These plants are actually quite rare and sought-after.

And they are truly beautiful

All of these are still the typical 2½" form factor as the example I showed you earlier. They’re so large, though, they could be up-potted straight into a 1 gallon.

Another sport with a creamy stripe on the outside and a pastel-green center

I had never seen this kind of variegation on ‘Blue Glow’

The glowing red leaf margin of the original ‘Blue Glow’ surrounded by silver variegation. I hope Micro Paradox will put this one into production.

Arguably the weirdest form of ‘Blue Glow’ is a dwarf mutation Micro Paradox calls ‘Pixie’. There are thousands upon thousands of them in the shade house:

Agave ‘Pixie’ comes as clusters....

Where does one cluster end and another begin?

These are all 2½" tissue-culture plugs

...and as solitary individuals:

Solitary forms of Agave ‘Pixie’

I shared a 72-count flat with my friend Michele (she got about 20 plants, I got the remaining 50+). Here’s my haul from the recent Micro Paradox sale:

My haul from Micro Paradox. All are 2½" plugs.

All are planted in 4" pots now.

To wrap up, here’s a photo of three Agave ‘Pixie’ I planted out in my backyard:

Three Agave ‘Pixie’ in my backyard

Kyle and I are planning to have some of these Micro Paradox plants available in our spring 2027 plant sale.

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.