Botanical Blog

Kiki's Perspective

Kiki the kitten has joined forces with nature to help me focus on the beauty of a Northern California autumn. Since Kiki is new to our home, she likes to spend her mornings exploring the landscape. Her fascination has made me see things differently, especially in my own front yard.

If not for Kiki’s wanderings, I would have missed the ‘Paper white’ narcissus pushing up through the soil, fat buds leading the way. I also could have easily ignored the velvety purple-ness of the Salvia leucantha (Mexican bush sage) where honeybees and territorial hummingbirds work the flowers.

The Tagetes lemmonii (Copper Canyon daisy) is hard to miss, but the clouds of golden-yellow flowers are tended by bumblebees and syrphid flies, something I wouldn’t have noticed if not for Kiki’s interest in all things winged. The kitten also likes to gnaw on the dried blooms of our oakleaf hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia), causing me to focus on the plant’s handsome bronze leaves.

Following Kiki’s gaze into the sky, I have noticed there are new visitors in our midst. The northern flickers are back, their screeches competing with the ever-present scrub jays. A group of western bluebirds stopped by for a day or two, enjoyed the birdbath and Toyon berries and left. The wild turkeys have returned to our cul-de-sac as well. Rafters of toms often strut across the street to clumsily hop up and down at the bases of our neighbors’ fully loaded olive trees. The big birds also like to sit on our neighbors’ roof, early and messy enough to be a nuisance.

My gaze inevitably is drawn away from Kiki, to the east where we have a wide view of the Vaca Valley. This year’s fall colors were so vivid it looks as if someone airbrushed them in. The liquidambars, Chinese pistaches, Modesto and Raywood ashes glow among the steady greens of the evergreen redwoods and pines and oaks.

I know there will come a day when Kiki the cat will proudly bring us a bird she has caught. Until then, I’m thankful she hasn’t decided to chase down one of those turkeys. And I’m grateful she’s helped me refocus on the beauty all around me.
— Kathy Thomas-Rico

All Wet in River City

This summer, my husband and I purchased a house in Sacramento. It was built in 1966, has a well-established (OK, overgrown) yard, and abuts a city park. It’s like living next to a golf course, with acres of well-maintained turf right outside the backyard gate. Tiny soccer players invade the park every weekend. It’s lovely.

We rent the house to our daughter and three other college students. They could give a hoot about the landscaping. Mow the lawn? Not a priority for four 19-year-olds. I, of course, can’t wait to completely overhaul the yard. Water efficiency is our No. 1 priority, considering the history of the house and the neighborhood in which it sits.

Interestingly enough, this part of Sacramento is not yet on water meters. There are outdoor watering restrictions, but the city of Sacramento charges a flat water rate, based on the number of rooms in the house. The monthly water bill, amazingly, is only $37 for what amounts to unlimited water use.

When we took ownership of the house, the automatic sprinkler system was scheduled to come on twice each Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, for 45 minutes each cycle. That’s 90 minutes three days a week. There was runoff and puddling, and, despite all that moisture, the lawn looked terrible.

I was horrified. This was lunacy! This was downright irresponsible! Sadly, most of the neighbors feel the need to do the same thing just to keep their lawns green through the hot Sacramento summer. Some of the neighbors, however, have removed their oversized and unused front lawns. They’ve put in drip systems and sparse, colorful plantings, interspersed with gravel as mulch. It adds up to a very nice looking and easy-to-maintain compromise.

We have a plan of our own. First and foremost, we are trying to knock down the bermudagrass. We’ve sprayed the front lawn with glyphosate two times, about 10 days apart. Come spring, we intend to plant a meadow of ornamental grasses sprinkled with colorful Mediterranean natives. Once established, it will require irrigation once a week in the heat of summer, and mowing only once or twice a year.

The back lawn we killed rather easily by simply turning the sprinklers off in August. Where the lawn once grew will soon be a decomposed granite patio, a shade garden of ferns and camellias and a hammock tucked into one corner. In a sunny corner will stand a planting of more Mediterranean and California natives, ringing a small olive tree.

No mowing necessary! Our renters will be pleased.
— Kathy Thomas-Rico