Jan 15, 2010

R.I.P. Ceanothus

I'm sad writing this post because I'm saying goodbye to a Ceanothus I was rather fond of. I haven't had a lot of plant casualties and this one came as a surprise and a blow. Unfortunately I can't say exactly what species this poor guy was because I put him in way before I ever discovered native gardening. I've only been into native gardening as a concept for about two years, and as a practice for less, but I should have discovered it much earlier, because I've been in love with Ceanothus since the first time I laid eyes on it, during my first spring in San Francisco, 1995. I noticed a thicket of it blooming while I was running in Buena Vista Park and I asked everyone I knew what it was until I found someone who could tell me, and I've worshiped at the altar of California Lilac ever since.

So when we first moved into our house in the suburbs in 2002, I planted several along the slope above the driveway. I didn't know what kind because I was still too much of a rube to understand that there are different kinds; I just went to a nursery and bought a bunch of plants in gallons that said "Ceanothus" on them. They all got devoured by deer the very first night they were in the ground. I cried. What can I say, I was new to the suburbs, I was new to deer. But eventually, one of the plants miraculously recovered and grew back. The deer nipped it back for a while, but eventually seemed to leave it alone and it flourished. I couldn't have been more pleased with it because it ended up being a low growing kind that cascaded over the retaining wall beautifully.

Then we built a shed in front of it. I viewed this decision as utterly tragic, because I knew it would completely block off the sun from my one heroic Ceanothus survivor, but we really needed the storage space, because my sweetie happens to have a hobby that takes up the entire garage. So I braced myself for losing my old Ceanothus buddy then, but again it proved determined and miraculous, and simply grew toward the sun. Its crown was still certainly in full shade, but it ended up sending branches to the edge of the shed and then, again, cascaded them beautifully down the retaining wall. I was amazed and delighted, and the retaining wall really did benefit from those lush, shiny leaves.

But then a while ago, I'm gonna say it was six or eight weeks ago, I was planting some bulbs and grasses in the area and I noticed the Ceanothus' crown appeared to be a little buried from soil that was slipping down the hill. I figured that wasn't healthy, so sort of dug around the crown to uncover it. As far as I could tell, I wasn't causing any major disturbance to the plant, and I assumed I was helping it. Well, I guess I wasn't, because a few weeks later, I noticed it ailing terribly. I had noticed some whitish stuff in the soil when I was digging around the crown, so maybe some sort of fungus or mildew had already taken hold. Or maybe I did manage to traumatize the poor plant--whatever it was, I feeling guilty. When I saw the branches ailing I cut them back, hoping to allow the plant to focus its energy and rebound, but I'm afraid it kept going downhill. It's toast now and time to remove it, which will give me a heavy heart. It survived two known major assualts--being eaten and being denied sun--and then it died for essentially no known reason. Dang it! Gardening is hard!

Farewell, sweet Ceanothus. And I'm sorry I didn't even bother to take this cruddy looking old bucket out of the shot the last time I photographed you. *Sigh*

8 comments:

  1. Sorry for the lost of your plant. Do you plan to buy more? They are lovely shrubs. I wish they thrived here.

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  2. It is sad when we lose a plant that's been around for a while, but I always tell people we've got a ready made hole to plant something else in. Nice to find your blog and stop for a visit. Very handsome cat you're holding!

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  3. It may have been a Yankee Point ceanothus, very robust, low, shiny green leaves year-round, lovely blue flowers in late winter. The white stuff may have been beneficial mycorrhizae, soil fungus on which many native plants depend. Lesson is: don't dig around or disturb the roots of established natives. Good news is that YP is widely available and easy to grow. Don't give up on it. It is a beautiful shrub.

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  4. Thanks for the rapid comments! You make a good point, Jodi, about the ready-made hole, and thanks for the cat compliment! I'll tell her she has admirers. (She already knows!)

    I may plant another Ceanothus, thanks for the Yankee Point suggestion, my only hesitation is then I'd have to get it through the deer-vulnerable years again. I'm trying Galvezia on that same retaining wall, hoping it'll grow and cascade substantially, but so far it is still pretty small. Also put an Artemisia californica 'Canyon Grey' nearby so if that works, it's another deer-resistant, trailing option. I may put a Yankee Point somewhere in the back yard where deer muzzles won't find it.

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  5. Hi Jess, we too love ceanothus and have several varieties. Thankfully we have a deer fence. Unfortunately last winter's freeze took out two of them, but some are still holding on. Our C. prostrata is still doing very well.

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  6. sorry about your native lilac....i love them also...you know they do eventually die off after a bit...not sure how long they typically can live for....they typically do very well in the sf area since they are native.

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  7. What a sad loss! But at least you can say you haven't lost a lot of other plants. I only wish I could say the same!

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  8. Hoooooly crap, I wonder if it was the freeze that killed my Ceanothus! I'd forgot to consider that, but the timeline fits. Although, we have had similar freezes in past years--maybe this time it was more vulnerable or the freeze was a bit worse...? I wonder how cold it has to be to kill a Ceanothus? According to the online weather sites, we had a low of 20 degress F, which seems exaggerated, although my hummingbird feeders froze, so it was quite cold.

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