Happiness, Part II

Twenty-four hours later, the billabong has percolated most of its contents back to the groundwater. I would guess there's about five gallons remaining here, and that's even with a steady light rain over the period.

And that's what makes this a detention basin more than a billabong, a vernal pool, or even a rain garden: its function is to slow down urban runoff, not trap it for months, just enough to restore some semblance of the natural pace of rainfall and absorption. As such, the plantings around it don't need to be true "rain garden" types, because the area doesn't really get boggy (in fact, the California Gray Rush I tried here didn't survive the summer). I'll be interested to see whether the
Platyglossis (Tidy Tips) I planted last year, which is more of a vernal-pool native, reseeds.

Happiness is a Full Billabong

Now that's more like it...

This is probably 70 gallons of rainwater from the past 2 days. I am very pleasantly surprised that the "pond" is keeping pace with the rain; Palo Alto has had close to 3 inches so far.

Not that a rain garden is the perfect solution for everybody's front yard, but I do get a warm fuzzy feeling knowing I kept this water (a) away from our foundation and (b) out of the gutter.

(Happy) Earth Day

Hooray. It's "Earth Day." One day, 24 hours, for us to be more aware and appreciative of the Earth's environment.

Woo hoo.

Never mind that the other 364 days of the year we're driving our SUV around town, alone and comfy in our captain's chair.

Or that we still leave the water running while we wash our hands with antibacterial soap.

Or that our salmon are now in as much trouble as our tuna.

I put honey in my tea today and was confronted by two unwelcome thoughts:

If this isn't "organic" honey, what crap pesticide residue am I drinking now?

When the bees go extinct, how will I put honey in my tea?

Across the street, the neighbor's sprinklers spray well beyond the curbside planting strip, flooding the gutter and soaking the cars parked there. Then the gardener fires up his gas-powered leaf blower, creating great clouds of dust and grass clippings and pollen that immediately adhere to the wet cars. I am not making this up.

It seems to me that we, as a society, have gone mad. We are pathological, behaving in ways that clearly harm others, if not directly ourselves. We are compulsive, unable or unwilling to modify our behaviors even when it's made clear that they are destructive. And we are delusional, somehow believing — despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary — that our actions either don't have consequences or will be mitigated by someone else.

It's been about two years since Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth made us all wince just a little bit. And yet the troubles have been on people's lips for more than 15 years — I caught Batman Returns on TV over the weekend, and even in 1992 the Penguin referenced "global warming." I understand that sometimes Hollywood can seem out of touch, but major studio releases don't make their money referencing arcane phenomena advanced only by the intelligentsia.

I was going to write today about a few things we all can do to help our planet, our neighbors, our children. Little things, things you might actually do, like converting your lawn to low-water plantings, not like converting your SUV to biodiesel. But honestly, we've known we're in trouble for, let's conservatively say, a decade. What have you changed in that time? Have you converted your lawn to low-water plantings? Have you stopped buying products whose manufacture kills the environment? Do you recycle and/or compost most, if not all, of your waste?

If you have, great. I applaud you. Tell us all about it, if for no other reason than to help us sustain our delusion that someone somewhere is fixing the problem we're creating. But when my clients still demand lawns that no child will ever play on… when "my" contractors still install spray irrigation because drip is too difficult… when I myself still drive my SUV around town, solo… I think perhaps the problem is outpacing the fix.

So, seriously: what are we going to do about it?

When It Rains...

...The ground gets wet
...The plants get happy
...I get featured in the media

Tune in to HGTV this Sunday, 10/21, at 9:30 a.m. to see yours truly on my first episode of "Landscapers' Challenge". Did I pop the champagne corks in victory? Did I cry all the way home in defeat? You'll just have to tune in to see.

What I can tell you is, the yard recently (although too late for filming) was named an official Certified Wildlife Habitat™ by the National Wildlife Federation, because it nourishes and shelters birds, butterflies, and other desirable species. This is a neat program because it encourages designers and homeowners to think beyond just how a yard looks and consider what it does. So I can take comfort knowing that this yard will still be helping its environment long after my ephemeral fame has dried up like yesterday's rain.

Hey, I know that guy!

For a sneak preview of the class I'm leading next weekend, check out the cover story of this week's Palo Alto Weekly. (You can also download a PDF of the issue, with photos.)

For another angle on the same topic, you can also see my thoughts in a recent MarketWatch article.

But don't stop there: sign up today to attend the class, because I've got a LOT more to share!

Where Have All The Butterflies Gone?

Just when we were preparing to celebrate the burgeoning population of painted ladies and other butterflies,
"Wild fluctuations in California's winter and spring weather have hurt fragile butterfly populations, causing numbers to fall to the lowest in more than three decades and increasing the concerns of scientists about long-term declines linked to climate change and habitat loss."
The full, depressing story is in the Chronicle.

Jewels on the Wing

[Note: Verdance clients originally received this article in May, as part of our free monthly newsletter on gardens and gardening. To subscribe to the newsletter yourself, please register at our site.]

Recently I read that the number of monarch butterflies migrating from North America down to Mexico has fallen an astonishing 75% -- even after 75% of their population already was lost to a freeze on their overwintering habitat in 2002. At this rate, monarch extinction seems likely in years, not decades or centuries, raising the gloomy prospect of a future when our children or grandchildren never get to delight in these winged jewels.

Studies of why butterfly populations are declining indicate a complex web of causes including deforestation, climate change, and pesticides. Whatever the reasons, though, we each can still do small things to slow the decline.

The best way to attract adult butterflies is to plant a garden that includes the vital milkweed plus sunflowers, zinnias, marigolds, phlox, petunias, butterfly bush, black-eyed susans, lilies, cosmos and daisies. Even without such an intensive habitat in our yard, most of us can integrate a few of these plants -- and collectively create a butterfly garden that spans acres.

It's also important to encourage butterfly caterpillars. The Sunset Western Garden Book lists plants whose foliage is good caterpillar food; there is a broad palette to choose from (broccoli -- who knew?), and it's easy to tuck a few into any garden. If you would like suggestions on butterfly plants whose foliage or flowers will complement your existing landscape, it would be my pleasure to help.

Perhaps the most important step you can take is to avoid using pesticides -- even "natural" ones such as Bacillus thurigenesis (B.t.) -- that kill indiscriminately. Always try the most benign and pest-specific solutions first: for instance, a sharp jet of water knocks aphids off of leaves and flower buds, and non-toxic oils of neem, garlic, mint or clove discourage ants, mosquitoes, leafhoppers and thrips.

And above all, appreciate the graceful acrobatics and fragile beauty of every monarch, anise swallowtail, and mourning cloak you see. Currently a spectacular migration of painted ladies is making its way through the Bay Area; taking the time to notice them will create a warm place in your heart that will endure long after the last butterfly has fluttered by.

[Update: there are quite a few swallowtails floating around, and on 6/10 my client in Berkeley reported, "Amazingly we have hundreds of Monarchs hanging out in our neighborhood this year. First time we have seen it since we have lived here. Has lasted three days so far. Kind of cool."]