Trick of the Eye

X-Flower: First Class

2011-06-19T02:16:00.000-07:00

Spring Awakening

2010-04-04T15:26:00.001-07:00

Conversation Piece [Updated 4-4-10]

2009-09-20T23:12:00.000-07:00

This is a protea. Although one may find the cut flowers gracing arrangements from the florist, it is unusual to find a growing plant for sale. So, when we saw this one at our local Trader Joe's, we had to have it. Visible through the back window of the car as we completed our shopping, it caused many people to stop, peer at it and speculate on what it might be.

A month after these photos were taken, the plant was dead. Our primary mistake was disturbing the rootball when the plant was moved to a larger pot. (For those interested in learning more about the care of proteas, here is a good source we discovered after the fact.)

The lessons from this experience are (1) do not assume the care instructions on a plant label are complete (or even correct), and (2) do research the care and cultivation of any plant you bring home--do it as soon as you get home. Why else do we have the internet?

X-Flowers

2009-04-02T23:59:00.000-07:00

This is a variety of pelargonium commonly known as Martha Washington (or Lady Washington) Geraniums; in the UK, they are called Regal Pelargoniums. (Go figure.)

The label for this plant with the solid maroon flowers is open to debate. It is also a pelargonium. We suspect it is a mutation of the plant with the white-edged flowers or, perhaps more accurately, it is a reversion to the form of the parent plant from which the white-edged mutation was produced.

Too confusing? Try this then: plants grown from cuttings = clones of the parent plant; plants grown from seeds = anything goes.

Is This ...

2009-02-07T23:10:00.000-08:00

... hail?

Then here's some more hail, with a Chinese elm seedling.

Is This Cool or What? [Updated 12-26-08]

2008-08-05T22:24:00.000-07:00

And here's how it was done:

6 Watt Solar Panel (back)

6 Watt Solar Panel (front)

Connect the solar panel to a solar-powered water pump, put the pump into the pond, position the panel for maximum light exposure, et voila!

It was good, clean solar fun -- while it worked. Unfortunately, after a couple of weeks, it suddenly stopped working. At first, we thought the panel had gone bad in storage (it was several years old).

Then we began to suspect sabotage.

... Others Not So Much

2008-07-27T00:30:00.001-07:00

While daylilies may shrug off hot weather, fuchsias have an entirely different response: generally, they curl up and die.

Fuchsia bud

In flower.

Fruiting -- or seeding. Maybe both.

Fuchsias can be grown in hot, dry climates with certain precautions:

First, make sure that specimens kept in containers have sufficient room for the roots to spread. A pot-bound plant should be moved into a larger pot. Keep an inch or more of soil between the rootball and the wall of the pot. Plastic pots trump the clay ones, in this instance.

Second, water regularly and keep the soil moist. You can mist the foliage too, but the roots must have consistent water, especially when the weather is hot and dry. As we learned the hard way, even a few hours' delay in applying water to these plants can be lethal in summer. A layer of mulch will help the soil retain moisture, but it's no substitute for regular water.

Third, give them some shade. Even varieties marketed as being able to take full sun will have an easier time in partial or full shade.

Some Like It Hot

2008-06-21T23:59:00.000-07:00

Daylilies (Hemerocallis) certainly don't mind the heat. They stand tall in temperatures that leave other perennials wilting. True to the name, each flower produced lasts for only one day; however, a single stem can carry multiple blooms which open successively. The American Hemerocallis Society's web site contains an excellent FAQ page for those interested in learning more.

Hemerocallis (Daylily), unidentified.

Hemerocallis (Daylily), possibly "Frankly Scarlett."

Hemerocallis (Daylily), unidentified.

Hemerocallis (Daylily), possibly "Vino Di Notte."

Hybridizers have developed an incredible array of colors, shapes, textures and (in a few cases) scent in these flowers -- which makes it all the more odd that the average garden center carries only two or three varieties, usually in shades of yellow, pale orange or apricot. The yellow one will be "Stella De Oro."

For those interested in something other than yellow, the best bets are independent local nurseries or mail order/internet/eBay. You can pay a little ($5 per fan division) or you can pay a lot (don't ask). We advise against paying "don't ask" prices for something you have not seen blooming with your own eyes.

A Dozen (or So) Red Roses

2008-04-02T23:27:00.000-07:00

Unidentified rose #1.

Unidentified rose #2.

Unidentified rose #3.

Unidentified rose #4.

Unidentified rose #5; photographed with flash.

Unidentified rose #6.

Rose "Taboo" (hybrid tea).

Another "Taboo" rose.

"Taboo" rose again.

Rose "Proud Land" (hybrid tea).

Rose "Opening Night" (hybrid tea).

Rose "Beloved" (hybrid tea).

Rose "Black Cherry" (floribunda).

Look, But Don't Taste

2008-03-30T23:46:00.000-07:00

A little something we found growing in a pot of something else. Once photographed, it was composted. We advise all gardeners to leave volunteer 'shrooms in the garden -- either as a curiosity display or as compost. Never eat them. Never.

Well, There It Is

2008-01-01T22:43:00.000-08:00

So, here we have a poinsettia (Euphorbia pulcherrima). These three shots are all of the same plant, but taken in different degrees of light and using varied camera settings. The bracts are a pale, buttery yellow, and the true flowers at the center a richer yellow. The photos are entirely digital and have not been "Photoshopped."

This first shot (above) was taken in full sun, extreme close-up.

Here's what the camera saw when the plant was set in shade.

Here we are in part sun; part shade. This is the closest the camera came to capturing the color as seen by the naked eye.

These plants are difficult to keep alive, much less attractive, once the holiday season for which they are cultivated ends. We kept a red one going for a year, but did not get repeat "bloom" (development of the colored bracts). Enjoy them while they last, but don't get emotionally invested.

What, You Were Expecting Poinsettias?

2007-12-24T23:06:00.000-08:00

Ha, ha! The title was our little holiday joke. No, of course, these are not poinsettias. These are flowers from a floribunda rose called "Paul Ecke, Jr." However, there is a poinsettia connection.

Paul Ecke, Sr. was the guy who first got the notion, back in the 1920s, to cultivate and hybridize a wild, winter-blooming plant from Mexico. Paul Ecke, Jr. later took over the family business and got the notion to market the plant in association with the Christmas holiday. The Paul Ecke Ranch is still the primary producer of poinsettias. More information on the history of their operation is available on the Ranch's web site.

Back to the little floribunda: the scentless flowers are striking in that the centers are a glowing orange-red color which darkens to red at the edges of the petals. This specimen is a bit leggy, but we hope to correct that when we begin pruning next month.

Reminder: bareroot season is upon us and, depending on your local weather conditions, pruning season is imminent.

Good gardening to all, and to all a good night!

P.S. to Gene: Our garden is a damned jungle, which is why we never post wide angle shots. ;-)

She's No Lily

2007-12-05T23:16:00.000-08:00

Fortnight Lily aka Butterfly Iris aka African Iris. Possibly Dietes iridioides; more likely Dietes grandiflora.

Who Loves Ya, Baby? [Updated 8-30-07]

2007-06-17T23:34:00.000-07:00

Apologies to our fan(s) for the long wait. We had the best of intentions to update this post ages ago with information on the rose pictured. The internet is usually quite helpful in searches for pesky details we don't bother to memorize or occasionally fail to record -- in this instance, class name -- but not this time.

This is a hybrid tea rose called Tuxedo. Our personal characterization of the color is "deep, velvet red." The petals are dark red and have a velvety sheen which does not come across in a photograph. This would be our top pick for the title Perfect Rose, but (alas, alas) it has no scent. When grown in full sun, the petals tend to stay partially furled, giving the flower a compact, multi-pointed star appearance. In partial shade, the petals relax and open more fully.

So, what's the big mystery? We searched and searched, both online and in our own rose encyclopedias and guides, but nowhere was this rose mentioned. This evening, however, we at long last got a hit. The hybridizer who bred it, Jack E. Christensen, mentions it on his web page. It turns out that this rose variety is no longer sold. (Pity.) If anybody else is growing it, they're not talking about it on the 'net.

Keep It Gay!

2007-04-02T03:06:00.000-07:00

Here's a birthday dedication to GRT. In his honor, we post an entire page of purples, but this one takes the [birthday] cake.

This is a passion vine (passiflora) of a variety called "Whirligig." With multiple shades of purple and the squiggly-ended filaments radiating from the center, this is just about the gayest flower we've ever seen. And we mean that in a good way. Enjoy!

Cape Angels

2007-04-02T02:28:00.000-07:00

Lilac Time

2007-04-02T02:25:00.000-07:00

The Princess Flower

2007-04-02T02:20:00.000-07:00

Name That Bromeliad [Updated 2-14-08]

2007-04-02T02:12:00.000-07:00

No joke. If you recognize this Bromeliad variety, please ring in and let us know what it is. A family member acquired the unlabeled parent plant from a seller at the old Farmer's Market in Los Angeles and was kind enough to gift us with a couple of "pups" when the parent outgrew its pot.

The plant has large, strappy, floppy leaves edged with spines. A spike, tipped with a multitude of the long-lasting, dark purple flowers pictured, develops once per year. The flowers ooze a clear sap beloved by ants.

Know what it's called? Please enlighten us all.

Enigmatic Purple

2007-04-02T02:00:00.000-07:00

Fans of this blog know we have it bad for red - love it, love it, love it! Occasionally, though, we have a little fling on the side with purple. Purple is red's enigmatic cousin. Is he straight? Is he gay? (We like to think he's bi.) Who cares? Whether you like it dark and broody or lighthearted and lavender, purple has you covered.

Here's a plant that combines both. Tradescantia pallida purpurea aka Setcreasea pallida 'Purple Heart.' Dark purple foliage; light purple flowers. Stems are very tender and susceptible to breakage, but stick any broken off bits in a pot of planting mix and they root very easily. Voila! More plants!

Lemon Flowers

2007-03-19T22:56:00.000-07:00

Too Soon for Daffydills?

2007-02-04T22:19:00.000-08:00

A reader comments that his daffodils are in bloom and asks if this is early. For most parts of the country, it is nowhere near spring, so blooms in February would be considered early (if not impossible).

However, here in California, where conditions tend to defy the official seasonal calendar, the answer is: it depends. First, it depends upon the weather, which just recently has ranged from bitterly cold and dry to cool and briefly wet, and then on to hot and sunny. So, it's no surprise if some plants think spring has sprung.

Next, it depends on the bulb. Even among narcissi, each variety has its own timetable. For example, our paperwhites bloomed a month ago or so and are now done. The daffodils are just starting to bud and flower. Yet another variety--a mini daffodil--has sprouted but shows no sign of buds yet.

Our advice: enjoy the preview of spring while it lasts.

Accidental Art

2007-01-29T22:36:00.000-08:00

We've taken a bit of chaff from our small-but-feisty fan base [hi, GRT!] for the long intervals between posts. Yes, we could post more if mediocre photos (we have hundreds) with little or no commentary would do, but where's the fun in that?

Recently, a friend from work [hi, Kate!] advised that she had shown this blog to another friend [hi, Kate's friend!] who also gardens and photographs flowers. We basked momentarily in their compliments, and then hastened to state that there is no skill involved here and the results displayed are entirely accidental. Although we are not too sure about that business concerning the monkey given a typewriter eventually writing Hamlet, we know from personal experience that any fool with enough patience and a digital camera tricked out with a good macro lens will eventually take a decent picture.

This is what we do. We take a lot of pictures from different angles and distances, unload them from the camera onto the computer, then look them over and hope for at least one good shot. The advent of digital has meant we are more often satisfied than disappointed with the results. Occasionally, however, we are surprised. Which brings us to this shot.

This is a flower from Arabian Jasmine (Jasminum sambac), a rambling vine. The flowers are quite small--a bit bigger than a pencil eraser--but produce an intense scent which just manages to stay on the good side of that fine line between fragrant and stinky.

This is a "lucky shot." Art by accident, not design. The only skill involved was in picking this one picture from a group of others.

Nevertheless, we are very proud of it.

What's In a [Common] Name?

2006-11-24T23:40:00.000-08:00

Little of truth, in this case. This is the flower from a corm (like a bulb, but not) sold under the name Peacock Orchid. It's no orchid; it's a gladiolus - gladiolus callianthus 'Murielae.' As for the peacock part - okay, maybe if you look at it upside down ...

Something Blue

2006-11-24T00:15:00.000-08:00

Blue ... we're just not that into it.

In fact, this may be the only blue flower on the property (excepting some preexisting, unidentified ground cover in the backyard).

Salvia guaranitica, variety "Black & Blue Sage."

It's black, and it's blue. And that's about all we've got to say about it.

Want Hummingbirds?

2006-11-24T00:03:00.000-08:00

Then plant this: Salvia elegans aka pineapple sage. Hardy once established. Cuttings root easily. Hummingbirds love it. And it really does smell a bit like pineapple.

Mum's the Word

2006-11-23T23:34:00.000-08:00

Chrysanthemum lore has it that a shock to the roots (such as transplanting) can alter the color of subsequently produced flowers. It may be so. Flowers from this specimen, rescued from an office trash bin, were once a darker shade of rust, and more red than orange.

Thumbs Not Always Green

2006-10-18T20:08:00.000-07:00

Just to demonstrate that not everything we touch thrives, here is the case of a plant variety we've been unable to grow successfully.

Meet Eustoma grandiflorum aka Lisianthus russellianus - fresh from the store, but slightly wilty from the trip home, followed by a thorough watering.

Now see her a week after transplanting. She just went into a sulk and died.

They die if you don't water them enough.

They die if you water them too much.

They die if you don't transplant them.

They die if you do transplant them.

Hot, cool, sunny, shady - dead, dead, dead, dead.

But we haven't given up. Oh, no. If necessary, we'll get Barbra Streisand to sing over one a la On A Clear Day You Can See Forever.

Someday, this plant will live for us. It may even set seed.

The White Album

2006-09-04T18:29:00.000-07:00

Before Labor Day 2006 passes into history and summer whites must be put away, here, in no particular order, are some white flowers which appeared in our garden over the last few months.

Image 1 - Rosa Banksiae aka Lady Banks' Rose (white variety). Small, nearly scentless blooms appear once or twice a year. It does not merely climb or ramble; it's a rover which has shot up a stone wall and over a wooden fence into a neighbor's yard. We believe an elderly specimen of this rose variety--the canes twisted and gnarled together in a tree shape--resided in mother's garden at the Old House. Years later, we discovered a subsequent owner of the property removed the "tree." Pity.

Image 2 - Viburnum. This came from the garden center as a brown stick in bareroot packaging. The label described the variety as a "snowball" type. We waited years and years for snowballs. At last, this year, we got flowers, but no "snowballs." The grower's mixup again. This is a lacecap variety. We like it well enough, but next time we go shopping for snowballs, we'll have to see them in bloom before we plunk down our hard-earned dough.

Image 3 - You Say Rose of Sharon, I Say Hibiscus. Hibiscus syriacus aka Rose of Sharon. Deciduous (i.e., dies back to a big brown stick in winter); kept us guessing whether we would see any flowers this year. Once in a while, the grower's goof works in your favor. We bought a 5 gallon pot containing what we thought was a multi-trunked shrub of a lavender variety. In the process of repotting, we found three different plants had been potted up together: one lavender, one pink and one white. Probably the best deal we've ever gotten on a purchase from the big box home improvement store which shall not be named.

Image 4 - Plumbago auriculata aka Cape Plumbago. Why plumbago? We can't recall. (A mind is a terrible thing to waste ...)

Image 5 - Azalea (miniature form), a sub-species of rhododendron. Given that there are roughly 800 species and 10,000 varieties in the rhododendron family, we very much wish we had not misplaced the plant tag for this little guy.

Image 6 - It's a Hard Knock Life for a Shamrock Flower. Yes, yes, we should have had this for St. Patrick's Day, but it wasn't flowering then! We have no interesting story about this particular flower. However, long, long ago, while searching for something in the patch of clover beneath our bedroom window at the Old House, we found a four-leaf clover. We plucked it, pressed it in wax paper and carried it for years until it mysteriously vanished. Perhaps the leprechauns took it back.

Taking a Break ...

2006-07-30T01:33:00.000-07:00

... from red for a moment, here's a Platycodon Grandiflorus aka Balloon Flower. Unfortunately, we did not get a shot of the "balloon" stage, which occurs right before the flower bud opens. [Yes, yes, it looks just like a little white balloon, not much bigger than the tip of a finger. Yawn.] But check out the smooth, white simplicity of the open flower.

The Holy Grail ... of Nasturtiums

2006-06-27T23:22:00.000-07:00

At last! A red one!

Mahogany Velvet. We found the seeds at Target (of all places). When we went back for more, they were sold out. [Boo hoo.]

The color of the actual flower (fresh blood red) looks nothing like what was pictured on the seed packet (maroonish, dried blood red), but we aren't complaining.

Red, red flowers; happy, happy, happy!

A Bloomin' Onion

2006-06-27T22:57:00.000-07:00

The real deal. One that got away by going soft and sprouting before we could use it. Stuck it in a pot, and here's what we got.

Who's Your Daddy?

2006-06-18T19:39:00.000-07:00

[Pardon the title; we just couldn't resist ...]

A request was made that we discuss a peculiar phenomenon noted by a fellow rose gardener. His query:

Why are the second generation of blooms sometimes 1/3 of the size of the first blooms of the season?

The short and very general answer is that a rosebush is not a widget factory. Blooms will vary not only in size, but also strength of scent and, depending on the rose variety, color.

As an example, below are photos of two roses from the same shrub, a hybrid tea called Sterling Silver. The plant is about 6 ft. tall. The larger bloom came from the top of the plant; the smaller, from the midsection.

The smaller flower has suffered quite a bit of insect damage which, in addition to its more shaded position on the plant, may have contributed to its reduced size.

What is stranger still, none of the flowers currently open on this particular shrub have the signature citrusy scent which, apart from the lavender/pale mauve color, is the selling point for this variety. Perhaps the scent evaporated in the recent heat wave?

Getting back to the original query, it is our belief that environmental factors are the cause of a consistent difference in bloom size. The rose bush in question had a nice rest over the winter, enjoyed some spring rain followed by balmy temperatures, and then put out its best blooms first. As the weather became hotter and drier, the plant suffered some stress, so the later blooms were smaller.

This is our conjecture; any “rose whisperers” in the blogsphere are welcome to ring in with their thoughts on the issue.

Neighbor Blight

2006-06-11T19:18:00.000-07:00

From the amazing to the annoying:

We recently discovered that one of our neighbors had several branches of our mulberry[?] tree cut. We would have been much less upset about this development if he had not
(1) tossed some of the cuttings back into our yard for us to dispose of, and
(2) reached over and made cuts on our side of the property line.

While it is quite easy to get carried away with a pruning saw, let us all try to be good neighbors and remember:

If thy neighbor's green growing things offend thee, thou mayest cut them back up to the property line.

Thou mayest not reach over the property line and lop off another 5-6 inches.

Once you cut, the cuttings are your problem.

And, for heaven's sake, don't botch it up like this wanker did (see photo).

Here endeth the lesson for today.

Oh, For a Honking Great Telephoto Lens!

2006-06-11T14:19:00.000-07:00

We were sitting on the stoop this afternoon, getting ready to pack it in after photographing small birds around the feeder, when a commotion drew our eyes to the Chinese Elm that covers the front patio. A hawk (or falcon?) had landed on one of the near horizontal trunks with a smaller bird (a jay?) clutched in one claw. The parent or mate of the captured bird then swooped in to harass the raptor, shrieking all the while. We got one so-so shot before the raptor took off with its lunch.

Something Unusual

2006-06-11T00:13:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen mushrooms growing between bricks? We hadn't, until now.

Nightmare in Pink (A Cautionary Tale)

2006-06-11T00:11:00.000-07:00

If you plant a rose that dies and then resurrects with new growth unlike that which went before, forget the cross and the holy water and go straight for the shovel. The rose you sought to grow has shuffled off its mortal coil, and the rootstock plant has taken its place.

Many, if not all, of the roses to be found at local nurseries, home improvement stores, and the discount store garden department are grafts. This means that canes of the desired variety are grafted onto the rootstock of a more robust rose plant.

There are those who claim that many rose varieties grow better/faster/stronger when grafted onto foreign rootstock. The problem is that if the grafted portions of the plant die back--due to disease, insect attack, or extreme weather--the desired variety is toast and the rootstock takes over.

Sometimes a robust rootstock doesn't wait for the grafts to die before attempting a hostile takeover. Beware of speedy growth from below the bud union (the lumpy base where the canes meet the rootstock). For example, if you're trying to grow a shrub rose and new canes shoot for the sky, get out the pruners and cut the new growth back to where its base meets the rootstock. Give the rootstock an inch, and it'll take half the backyard (see example below).

Did Someone Say Orange? (Part Trois)

2006-05-20T00:26:00.000-07:00

Hybrid tea rose: Prominent.

This was our first orange rose. Orange not being a favored color (red, red, red ... and a little more red), the selling point was the grower/distributor's notation that the flowers have a strong rose scent. This proved to be incorrect, at least as far as this specimen goes. Grows better in partial shade than full sun. Very thorny; and inarguably orange.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2006-05-14T02:09:00.000-07:00

Epiphyllum ______________ aka Cactus Orchid.

Yep.

A pink one.

This plant was grown from a cutting given to Mom in the 1970s by the father of a classmate.

We've picked up specimens of other varieties (an almost-red and an alleged [yet to flower] purple) over the years, but the pink is the strongest plant and a prolific, reliable bloomer.

Seeing Double?

2006-05-03T23:18:00.000-07:00

Looks a lot like "Julia Child," but this is Sunsprite (also a floribunda rose). A bright yellow with a light fragrance. Borrowing one of the nephew's phrases, it "smells like sunshine."

The New Kid or Veni, Vedi, Visa

2006-04-30T14:42:00.000-07:00

Rosa floribunda - Julia Child.

Yesterday's acquisition. Not red, but a startlingly good golden yellow. Beautifully convoluted flowers. What clinched the deal, though, was the strong mystery fragrance. Couldn't quite make it out - rose and something else. Checked again this afternoon and the answer is: rose with a licorice subnote.

What a Difference a Day Makes, or Did Someone Say Orange? (Part Deux)

2006-04-25T16:13:00.000-07:00

Hybrid tea rose - Voodoo.

Day 1 - the bud is a deep, sunset orange with burnt orange-red streaks.

Day 4 - the flower starts opening; the overall color is a strong orange.

Day 5 - the flower is open; the center petals are now pale orange, while the outer ones are salmon to medium pink.

Morning and Evening

2006-04-24T17:53:00.000-07:00

A hibiscus--pale orange to a human eye; golden yellow to the camera eye. Red center.

It Doesn't Get Much More Orange Than This

2006-04-24T13:07:00.000-07:00

If it's flashy orange you want in the garden, the easiest and most economical way to go is the nasturtium. The seeds are inexpensive, roughly pea-sized and easy to handle, and germinate without a fuss. The flowers are edible; some folk put them in salads.

Legend has it that there are red varieties of nasturtium available. Perhaps owing to packaging goofs, we've had no luck in our quest for red nasturtiums. No matter the color described on the seed packet, the resulting flowers have been orange.

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Program

2006-04-21T23:51:00.000-07:00

... for the two biggest lemons you've ever seen.

Weight: about a pound a piece. Variety: unknown.
The parent tree--a twisted, low growing specimen--bears only a few fruits each year, but they're whoppers.

Why is one shaped like a lemon (more or less) and the other like a grapefruit? Who knows? We just snap the photos and make lemonade here.

Did Someone Say Orange? (Part Un)

2006-04-20T23:52:00.000-07:00

Rosa floribunda, Singin' in the Rain.

The grower's catalog describes its color as cinnamon-apricot. (Apricot? Maybe. Cinnamon? No, no, no.)

This garden specimen is a pale orange with pink-streaked edges. The color is strongest when the flower first opens and bleaches out as the bloom ages.

Elusive Red

2006-04-18T23:33:00.000-07:00

True reds are hard to find. No matter the type of flower, seekers after red often end up with a plant which produces blooms in hues of dark pink or even orange. "How could anyone call this red?" we cry when the blood-colored blossom we anticipated opens in fuschia.

Mix-ups at the growers? Mislabeling at the nursery? Probably.

But perhaps, like the camera eye, each human eye perceives color just a little differently; hence, one man's red is another's magenta.

The Martha Washington geranium (pelargonium) pictured here is, to the photographer's naked eye, a much deeper red than the camera was able to interpret. The first impressions were on the pink side. This shot comes closer to "reality," but is still not quite correct.

The camera eye has got some neat tricks, but it has yet to master all those of the human eye.

The Sage Penis Series

2006-04-08T00:39:00.000-07:00

A belated birthday dedication to Gene T., who once described one of my sculptures as consisting of five waving penises. Here are five more found in my garden yesterday afternoon. The wind was causing them to wave, which is how a finger wound up in Shot 1.

Shot 5 is a profile view (less obviously phallic - but note the scary spur) of the flower from Shot 1. Shot 3 (with aphid) is a different flower from the same plant: a white variety of salvia greggii aka Autumn Sage.

Not the "Perfect Rose"

2006-04-08T00:11:00.000-07:00

... but one pretty good ranunculus.

2006-03-21T21:57:00.000-08:00

Test post.