Drought Resistant Landscape

What can I say?



“BUY FROM THE SOURCE TO HELP KEEP WRITERS WRITING”


Let me know what you think. Visit my web site to learn about my new book on drip irrigation and other gardening books. Thanks, Robert

Drip Tubing for Trees

Tree roots grow one and one-half to two and even three times the width of the foliage above. More amazingly, this ratio is maintained throughout the life of the tree, regardless of the rootstock, species and soil.

These two trees don't understand this basic rule of thumb. The one with two circles has the right idea that trees should be watered in circles. But at least the inner circle with the beige/brown tubing is too close to the trunk. This is at least a waste of tubing. With drought tolerant trees and many other water sensitive roots can receive enough water to cause root rot. Put the emitters further out, near the dripline of the canopy. (Based on the book Drip Irrigation- For Every Landscape and All Climates.)


“BUY FROM THE SOURCE TO HELP KEEP WRITERS WRITING”


Let me know what you think. Visit my web site to learn about my new book on drip irrigation and other gardening books. Thanks, Robert

Lessons From "Our" Droughts

As winter approaches, gardeners in the west now have three things on their minds—water, water, and water. Or, rather, the lack of it. The pale, arid shadow of a dusty drought now extends over much of the American west and southwest.

The drought, which has settled into much of the west over the past three years, doesn't make much noise. You can't hear the sound of the mud drying in the bottoms of empty reservoirs. You don't hear any noise from the leaves as they turn brown and fall off the trees in mid-summer. And you can't hear anything coming from the countless wells which have run dry.

The first drought for me, after moving to California, was the so-called Big Drought of 1975-1977. Our current drought, which has lingered for three long, parched years, has had its impact on wild lands, suburbs, and cities. Now, I get to improve my skills with gray water systems, drip irrigation, and xeriscape (drought resistant) planting techniques.

My first experiments with gray water systems—collecting water from sinks, showers, and laundries to irrigate fruit trees and ornamental landscaping—were during the 1970's drought. The systems I installed in the basements and crawl-spaces of clients throughout Marin county in those days were, in retrospect, a rag-tag, baling-wire collection of bizarre-looking gizmos. Now I’ve learned a lot more. See the photo on the left of a system designed with current “technology”.

In my experience, gray water is not a crisis-intervention scheme, but one of the many "tools" which allows my garden to flourish. The overwhelming feedback, and my personal experience, has been: "My plants are growing better with gray water than with any other water source."

I knew nothing about drip irrigation until the drought of the 70's. Again, the "Big" drought introduced me to a new gardening tool which has become commonplace in the 1990's. The technological advances in drip irrigation since I first started messin' with drip irrigation in 1975 have practically exceeded that of the revolution in the computer industry.

After experimenting with countless drip irrigation widgets and gadgets I've settled on my favorite emitter technology—in-line emitters. (As described in my updated edition of Drip Irrigation, For Every Landscape and All Climates. 2009) Unlike the more common punched-in emitter, which you buy separately and insert into a hole you've punched into solid drip irrigation tubing, in-line emitters come pre-fabricated inside the one-half inch drip irrigation hosing. On the right, see the interior of several emitters that become encased in ½-inch tubing. There is also a clear piece of tubing to reveal the emitter. All the real tubing is black or brown. Old-fashioned, punched-in emitters get brittle in the heat and sunlight and easily snap off during routine garden maintenance—which leads to tedious hours of repair. In-line emitters have nothing exposed to break off, are securely housed inside a sturdy one-half inch plastic tubing that'll take to abuse of weeding, gardening, and mulching, and are far less time-consuming since the emitters are preinstalled. With in-line emitters, I avoid the so-called "spaghetti" tubing which seems to somehow mysteriously move and knot itself and ends up resembling its namesake, a heap of tangled noodles.

The drought of the 1990's taught me how to plant so as to practically eliminate the need for drip irrigation. I've come to discover many ornamental Mediterranean plants are actually more drought-resistant than a lot of California native plants. There are small 18-year-old test plantings around my house which were planted at the beginning of our fall rainy season, and never irrigated again.

The first drought for me was the so-called Big Drought of 1975-1977. (By the way, how can a reduced amount of rain, be "bigger"? How can you have more of less?) Anyway, there have been plenty of "bigger" and longer droughts over the past 400 years. Tree ring analysis in the central portion of Santa Barbara county, the Santa Ynez Valley, indicates two periods of 60 years of drought (below "average" rainfall) since the 1500s

So, watch out, don’t count on a break in the drought.

Let me know what you think.

Visit my web site to learn about my new book on drip irrigation and other gardening books.

NOTE: The comments section at the bottom of the post has disappeared. Click on the "___ Comments" button or the title under the "Blog Archives". Thanks, Robert

Santolina

Some sub-shrubs last–even thrive–in our deer-ridden, drought-resistant landscape. One of my favorites is Santolina. Lavender Cotton better known as just Grey Santolina (Santolina chamaecyparissus) shows up in most of my designs as it is also free of pests. Pictured on the left is a mixture of Grey and Green (Santolina virens) Santolinas in bloom. This was planted in 1983. The photo on the right is 26 years later. The foliage was still in pretty good shape. Down at the base is a trunk over four inches in diameter. Pretty good life for a wonderful plant.

Please post a comment - I want to know what you think.

Visit my web site to learn about my new book on drip irrigation and other gardening books.

NOTE: The comments section at the bottom of the post has disappeared. Click on the "___ Comments" button or the title under the "Blog Archives". Thanks, Robert

"Free" Rain Water, Cisterns

Jean de Florette, a film by French director Claude Berri, is set in the scrubby, olive tree-covered hills of southern France. As the film begins, a severe drought has dried up a family's cistern—the underground stone storage tank for rain from a roof covered by a terracotta tiles. A farmer, played by Gerard de Pardieu (of Green Card and Cyrano fame), watches helplessly as his family's crops begin to wither and their cash crop of meat rabbits begins to die of thirst. Two peasant farmers plot to force the neighboring family into bankruptcy. Finally, the two conniving farmers manage to cause the early death of the Pardieu's character, to destroy his family and to acquire the farm for much less than the pre-drought price. All because the cistern was too small to store enough water for the driest years.

For better or worse, cisterns are used throughout the world to catch rainwater from the roof for drinking, washing, and irrigation. Cisterns come in all shapes and sizes—rain barrels, stone wells, ugly black plastic drums, and nondescript gray concrete tanks. In the 1800’s and early 1900s in America, cisterns were common, even in cities.

But the uses of cisterns and the reasons for building your own have changed. Cisterns are experiencing a welcome and well-deserved revival, due to dwindling sources of clean water, erratic supplies during droughts, and a renewed interest in water independence.

Cistern systems are remarkably simple compared to many modern technologies such as wells, and a complicated infrastructure. Basically, the rain must be gathered, stored in a cistern [now loosely defined as any tank in- or above the ground] and drained or pumped to the landscape. In most cases, rainfall is collected from the roof of the home, barn, or garage. A typical gutter funnels the rain into a downspout, hose, or pipe which leads to the cistern itself. A diverter valve is built in the downspout or pipe so the first rains after a dry spell, to flush all kinds of accumulated filth off the roof, can be turned away from the cistern until the roof is clean. Usually, a simple device or grate screens out any twig and leaf debris which may have gathered on the roof. Commonly, modern cisterns are concrete or plastic tanks.

Drought-Proof Your Garden—yes and no
Droughts are often the single source of inspiration for the installation of cisterns throughout the South West, if not everywhere. The recent changes in the climate see to be making much of the South West more parched than years past. As early as the drought of the 1990s, gave rise to the interest and need for water storage.

Ironically, cisterns in regions with no summer rain whatsoever are expensive propositions. In such an area, you must store up enough water for as much as six months of landscape irrigation. Consider, for example, an anonymous two-acre estate in a wealthy neighborhood in Santa Barbara, California, planted with water-loving ornamentals, some drought-resistant plants, a large 1/2-acre lawn, and a vegetable garden. During the drought, such a landscape, based upon the conservative figure of outdoor use equaling 60% of all water use, had a historical year-round usage of a staggering 500,000 gallons! A cistern big enough to hold this much water would have to be a whopping 50 feet on each side and 27 feet tall! Try and hide that in your average backyard. Such a cistern would cause a severe drought in your cash flow.

Note: I somehow lost the usual section "Post a comment". To leave a comment, simply click on the area/button that says "___ Comments" below. Or,clicking on the title of a Post under "Blog Archive" also gets you to a view that gives the option of leaving a comment. Robert

Visit Robert Kourik's web site to learn about his great gardening books.

Summer Drought of Color

These photos show my garden in transition to its summer "fallow". Soon I will harvest the foxglove seeds to be scatter at the forest's edge. The Euphorbia spp. dry a golden color before they set seed and "walk around" my garden. Most of the lavenders were really knocked out to a grayish blue due to 90F to 100F dry heat. I have about six still in bloom-the Lavandula angustifolia 'Alba Compacta', L. angustifolia 'Alba' , L. x intermedia 'Dilly Dally', L. angustifolia 'Frost', and several species of Spanish lavender- L. stoechas. Once these are pruned back the garden goes fairly "dormant" except for a Grevillia sp., Lychnis corneriaa, some mulliens, and a glorious radiant-blue Salvia coboreinsis behind a deer fence. I would love to grow cultivars of the California fuschia (Epilodium spp.) but deer love them. Alas, one of the great late-summer native and colorful species is missing from my garden. My garden will be patiently waiting for the fall rains.

Please post a comment - I want to know what you think.


> Visit my web site to learn about more gardening books.



All rights reserved. Copyright 2008

Note: I somehow lost the usual section "Post a comment". To leave a comment, simply click on the area/button that says "___ Comments" below. Or,clicking on the title of a Post under "Blog Archive" also gets you to a view that gives the option of leaving a comment. Robert

Grass - for mowin', not smokin'

I can’t have an “official” lawn because the well at my house is so limited. I just mow the “meadows” till they are brown and less than four-inches tall as if that’ll do anything to stop a forest fire—NOT.

Anyway, I watch with envy as some neighbors with good-producing wells go about planting and watering their lawns. Still it’s water that was meant to trickle through crooks and crannies of the deep underground as it meanders ever so slowly, at my house, to the ocean.

Conserving water should be everyone’s approach to a garden as water is more like a finite resource these days.

There is one fascinating plant to consider as a lawn substitute in dry areas— Buffalo grass (Buchloe dactyloides). This grass naturally grows where the yearly rainfall is 17 inches or less.

A bit of background information:
The man responsible for the amazing “etching” of a Buffalo grass’ root system is John Weaver, a Professor of Plant Ecology at the University of Nebraska for 47 years. Weaver literally went into the trenches to excavate the root zones of plants. Working and recording as carefully as the most compulsive and attentive archeologist uncovering a buried civilization, he spent countless hours following and mapping roots and the patterns they made beneath his feet.

The illustration (From Roots Demystified, Change Your Gardening Habits to Help Roots Thrive, published by me.) was done in west-central Kansas and shows Buffalo grass roots in proportion to their foliage. It must be the extensive depth of the roots that allows buffalo grass to withstand long periods of drought, although 70% of the root mass is in the first six inches of the soil. The plant can be kept mowed to 5-6 inches for a continuous cover. While not as sturdy to foot wear-and-tear as our more common lawn grasses, it does fit the visual desire of a mown meadow. As with many turf grasses, irrigation in the top six inches is ideal for good-looking growth.

To maintain a green turf, Buffalo grass needs only .3 inches of water per week compared to .5 for Bermuda grass, .8 for tall fescue, 1.2 for Kentucky bluegrass and 1.5 for perennial ryegrass. Another way to look at it is that Buffalo grass can last 21-45 days without irrigation, compared with St. Augustine grass, which can need watering every five days.

This native grass has been “domesticated” as a substitute for lawns in dry areas or any place a gardener wants to conserve water. Buffalo grass is well suited to the transition zones of the country, where it’s often too hot for cool-season grasses such as Kentucky bluegrass, perennial ryegrass and tall fescue and too cold for warm-season species like St. Augustine, Bermuda and zoysia. Use one of the more recent selections that are available, and check with your local Cooperative Extension as to its appropriateness for your area. Some examples are: 'Legacy®' and 'Prestige™.

Let me know if you’ve tried this grass and what the results were.

Please post a comment - I want to know what you think.

Visit my web site to learn about my gardening books.

NOTE: The comments section at the bottom of the post has disappeared. Click on the "___ Comments" button or the title under the "Blog Archives". Thanks, Robert

Grevilleas & Hummers

This is a photo of my Grevillea spp. in bloom. Alas, I lost the species name. However, that hasn’t stopped the humming birds from frequenting these remarkable flowers all year round. This plant along with most Grevilleas blooms throughout the year. During Spring the amount of bloom dramatically increases. They are all deer-resistant and drought resistant (hardy). I have never watered this plant when I planted it in the fall some 12 years ago. These plants are from the Mediterranean climate zone in Australia. They come in every shade of red, orange, yellow, pink, and nearly white. I don’t know of any with blue flowers. I find the unusual form of the flower to be quite fascinating.

Please post a comment - I want to know what you think.

Visit my web site to learn about my other gardening books.

NOTE: The comments section at the bottom of the post has disappeared. Click on the "___ Comments" button or the title under the "Blog Archives". Thanks, Robert

Spring & Summer Moisture

Last night there was a very gentle rain that lingered for only a short time. It announced the coming of spring and the dry months ahead. 

The peach, plums, plumcots, and quinces are the early-blooming fruit trees in my garden; the first to announce spring is here, no matter how briefly before the yearly drought of summer. Even a gentle rain can affect the pollination and bring disease such a fire blight and scab. So I watch the clouds dissipate and the fog slip back to the shoreline so the sun can dry the flowers to prevent such diseases of fruit trees. The warm, sunny days also bring forth pollinating bees (what few are left) and insects that flutter about in the warmth of the sun and "do their thing". 

The rain was typical for late winter, the roads were wet along my lane, but the asphalt was dry beneath the larger trees. The shadows of dryness follow light mists and gentle rains. In the dry times of the summer, the pattern is reversed. Fog laden with moisture often roll up the hills to my house and the trees 1200 feet above the ocean. The trees gather the fog and condense the moisture into "rain". Then the roads in the open, next the to meadows, are dry and the lane is wet with "rain" beneath the larger, taller trees. 

Many people assume only the roots absorb moisture for the plant's growth. Not always true. Both spring rains and summer fog drip directly feed the needles of the nearby redwoods. It has been discovered that the stomata under the leaf can actually absorb tiny amounts of moisture. This amazing process is but one part of the puzzle about how the forest surrounding my home passes through each summer's dry cycle.

More to follow on future postings.

I'd like to hear about the special micro climates at your home and in the garden. 

Please post a comment - I want to know what you think.

All rights reserved, copyright 2008

How I Got Started.

Both my grandmothers gardened in their own way.

One had a wild-and-woolly garden where annuals sprung up every season among large patches of perennials. As a youth I learned very few of the names, but loved to hide beneath the enormous sweeping arms of an unpruned forsythia shrub, right next to the self-perpetuating Black-Eyed-Susan patch. Her garden was for hiding, crawling, exploring, and climbing the sour cherry tree each summer.

The other garden was manicured, unspoiled by "weeds", tended daily, and was the epitome of the Midwestern combination of groomed lawn with annual and perennial flowers, shrubs, and vines. I worked in this garden with grandma Kourik to gather the dew-laden flowers to be prepared for drying. With a gentle breath we scattered the dew. Some flowers were carefully covered in sand and slowly dried in the oven. Others were layered with borax and left on a ledge near a sunny window. After carefully shaking the sand or borax off each perfect blossom, they were arranged like a flower bouquet and placed beneath a convex case of glass surrounded by an ornamental brass rim. Flowers under glass for prosperity These we sold like a little cottage "industry" for spending money. But I kept many.

Now, some 50 years later; those kept out of direct sunlight still shine with their true colors. Each pansy still revealing their mixture purple petals above and yellow petals streaked with tan below. The others have shifted to a gradient of tans and browns with hints of blue, amber, and yellow. I wrote a book (The Lavender Garden) in 1998. A few years later I was riffling through my collection of dried-floral bouquets and found one with five sprigs of lavender gracefully arching toward the rim of the glass. The scent of lavender that lingered deep within my brain began to flourish in the 1970s when I started planting them in drought-stricken gardens I maintained - and where there were interloping deer. As in Jitterbug Perfume, (by Tom Robbins) my olfactory memories gradually awakened as I began my love affair with lavender in my 20s. The roots of my gardening linger in the distant past. (Well, not that distant, only 50 years.)

All rights reserved, Copyright 2008