208 



The Garden Magazine, December, 1921 



Cobea, English Ivy, and the thing known as German Ivy — fruit 

 trees, Grape and Blackberry vines, a clump of tall Broom grass, 

 some Bamboo (rather diminutive as yet), a Rose path, and the 

 garden proper. It is all turfed, except for the irrigating basins 

 at each tree. The fruit trees, in the main, violate the rule about 

 " keeping a proper distance." The three Fig trees, a Cherry 

 Plum, and a wild Plum (grafted with several varieties) are scan- 

 dalously close. More appropriate distances separate from these 

 and from one another the Satsuma Plum, the Crawford Peach, 

 the Prune, four Citrus trees, and the Loquat. A second Spanish 

 Broom (a thriving youngster), a five-year-old Lemon Verbena 

 and a small Guava also find a footing in this space. At one corner 

 is an Apricot and at the other a young Banana (my particular 

 joy), which is showing astonishing progress. Two other juve- 

 niles, but with indifferent records, are an Almond and an Avo- 

 cado. My Citrus trees have so far been a failure. They detest 

 adobe soil, and no amount of manipulating and lightening it 

 conquers their prejudice. 



ROSES have here a double season — March-June and 

 October-December. Some forty varieties find lodgment 

 in this garden. The most vigorous and dependable (aside from 

 those irrepressible climbers, Banksia, Dorothy Perkins and 

 American Pillar) is the pink Maman Cochet, though Marie von 

 Houtte, Frau Karl Druschki, and Madame Abel Chatenay run 

 it a close race. For sheer beauty the gem of the collection is 

 Madame Edouard Herriott. Hadley, Lady Hillingdon and 

 Mrs. Aaron Ward, each so distinctively beautiful, are worthy 

 rivals; Juliet, when it develops perfectly, and Mad. Abel Chate- 

 nay are close contenders for the prize; but after all their claims 

 are duly considered, the verdict invariably goes back to Herriott. 

 A charming Rose which I must take space to mention is the 



Marquis de Querhonts* (I wonder at the name, for I have never 

 seen it elsewhere than on the tag of the root I bought several 

 years ago). It is of the Gold of Ophir pattern, and the bush that 

 produces it is as faithful, hardworking, and dependable as any 

 plant in our garden. 



OF THE perennials nothing makes so beautiful a show as the 

 Delphinium, with its tall spikes of sky blue. Like the 

 Roses, it has a double season; and so responsive is it to a little 

 care that I imagine some fostering might bring it to a third 

 flowering. Pentstemon, Coreopsis, and Carnation are vigorous 

 and prolific. Stocks (supposed in the East to be annuals) last 

 for several years, and if the seed pods are constantly removed 

 will keep right on blooming. Much the same is true of the 

 Marigold. Though the Pansy dies out after a season, the Violet 

 keeps right on, winter and summer, and blooms for considerably 

 more than half the year. 



With Dahlias and Chrysanthemums (though I cannot 

 spare time to attempt the big prize-winning growths) I have 

 results which are satisfactory — an abundance of fair-sized bloom. 

 The annual Calliopsis, Scabious, and Cosmos grow like weeds 

 in a barnyard and blossom profusely. The Salpiglossis does 

 well; one of mine lasted through the winter and came into 

 the next summer covered with blossoms. My Zinnias and 

 Asters would not take a prize at a flower show, but they are 

 wonderful all the same and quite up to the tests laid down for 

 amateur gardeners. Balsam grows luxuriantly. Some Golden- 

 rod, which I put in to remind me of regions far away, thrives to 

 the extent that it encroaches on its neighbors, so that from time 

 to time the invasive roots must be chopped away. 



*Marquise de Querhoent (T) — this is the correct name — was introduced in 

 1 90 1 by the French grower, Godard, of Thoissey; it is described as having 

 flowers "rose shaded with gold. — Ed. 



/al Jl^^iNI VJ 



EVERT gjRDEN MEAJ^S *A HOME 



WHO of us does not talk about and speculate 

 upon climate and weather, praising or con- 

 demning as they chance to please or dis- 

 appoint us at the moment; and how espec- 

 ially do these things affect the gardener. And 

 yet how many among gardeners even have an intelligent under- 

 standing of what climate really is, what it means, what it does? 

 We convince ourselves that " the climate is changing" — although 

 centuries of scientific data provide evidence to the contrary; we 

 formulate sweeping generalizations on a basis of an occasional, 

 or specific instance, we rail against climatic opposition in our 

 gardening operations when we could perfectly well have antici- 

 pated and prepared for it; we continually strive to introduce and 

 cultivate species inherently unsuited to the conditions that 

 surround us and them — and put the blame on the climate! 



As a matter of fact, it is actually awe-inspiring to peer 

 into the larger aspect of climate and observe how vast a part it 

 plays in shaping our destinies. Climatic environment affects us 

 in many ways, our clothing, dwellings, food, occupations, and 

 customs; systems of government; our migrations. Climate 

 often determines how and where we shall live. 



As to the temporary variations of the weather— which, in the 

 aggregate, constitute climate— no day passes without supplying 

 countless striking illustrations of their influence over everything 

 we do. 



How much greater and more vital must be the effects of cli- 

 mate and weather upon members of the plant kingdom, who 

 cannot, like man, move swiftly from place to place, and modify 

 their surroundings. The problem of the plant in its struggle 



with its environment is such as to completely overshadow ours; 

 the balance and relationship 'twixt crops and climate in their 

 scope and complexity are indeed a revelation. 



Nowhere is this truer than in the United States. Nowhere is 

 nature more lavish in her distribution of varied climate: kinder 

 when she is kind, harsher when she is harsh. This is because 

 continental United States lies wholly within the temperate zone, 

 extending, however, from its northern to its southern limits. 

 "A marked changeableness of the weather is a striking charac- 

 teristic of these zones," says Ward, a recognized authority. 

 And elsewhere: "The continental interiors of the north temper- 

 ate zone have the greatest (climatic) extremes in the world." 

 With its wide north and south expanse, its sweep from ocean to 

 ocean and its distinctive topographic features, the United States 

 exhibits in its different regions all of the four great types of 

 possible climate. 



1. — A western coast climate, extending between the Pacific 

 Ocean and the coastal ranges and corresponding in all its essen- 

 tials with that of the west coast country of Europe, with prevail- 

 ing westerly winds causing a low annual or seasonal range in 

 temperature and warm ocean currents sweeping up from the 

 south to temper the winter winds and create — as far north as 

 Oregon and Vancouver (and in Europe, northern Britain) — mild, 

 moist winter conditions favorable to plant life. These westerly 

 winds bring abundant moisture, which falls in the form of heavy 

 winter rains. 



This is the explanation of California's famed climatic bounty, 

 and why it is possible to grow within the boundaries of that 

 one state a miscellany of plants native to all parts of the globe. 





