THE EARLIER INHABITANTS OF THE LAND
Once the French broom had been removed from our garden, a plant called soaproot, Chlorogalum pomeridianum, showed itself. Mounds of large, straplike leaves with wavy edges and spidery white, moth-pollinated flowers that open toward the end of the day in airy sprays, this species is found in many parts of California, in many types of soil. Here they are so large and old that possibly they were present when the Coast Miwok paused here for lunch.
For the Miwok, soaproot served several purposes. The bulbs were roasted for food, boiled for glue to make baskets watertight and for other uses, and thrown into dammed-up creeks to stupefy fish. Neat brown brushes for whisking acorn meal out of grinding rocks are still made from the fibers surrounding the bulb, the brush handles glued together with glue from the bulb itself.
This plant tested our desire to let the garden have a say in designing itself. It appeared in a planting of local eriogonums, and its long straplike leaves did not “go” with the rounded felty leaves of the buckwheats. We decided to play with the design by repeating this unplanned plant combination in the border. It turned out to “work” in an entirely unanticipated fashion. By using the design technique of repetition, we were able to satisfy our gardening aesthetics as well as to preserve this reminder of an earlier human-plant relationship.
At the annual gathering of the California Indian Basketweavers Association, some kids were making traditional soaproot brushes from soaproot bulbs. One of the adults, in order not to waste the bulbs from which the fibers were gathered, offered to demonstrate how the bulbs are used as shampoo. We gathered around to watch as he brought up a lather in a bowl of water, then rubbed it through his hair. Besides the unusual experience of watching somebody wash their hair at a conference, this act contained a sense of an old relationship being maintained, and the respect that avoidance of waste implies.
MAKE A KINDER, GENTLER FENCE
In my town, the vistas were once unimpeded, and everyone could see the ocean from their house. Now redwood plank fences dot this marine terrace like mini-stockades. The dullness of the view and the thought of the redwood forests such fences devour make walking down a country lane flanked by solid wooden walls a grim experience.
See-through fencing, including various kinds of wire stock fencing, helps to maintain the visual connection to the larger garden beyond the fence. It is cheaper than wooden fences and easier on the environment. Fences with spaces between the boards use less wood and are both more visually appealing than solid fences and more resistant to wind damage. Wind encountering a solid barrier is forced up and then over it. Wind filtering through an airy fence or multi-layered hedge is diffused.
Our property is a medley of fences, some part of the original property, solid redwood fences and old-fashioned pickets, and some recreated with components of original fencing mixed with wire and other materials. One stormy year, a Monterey cypress came crashing down on a section of old fence. A local tree surgeon with a small mill took the tree away and brought it back in beautiful planks, for yet another kind of fence.
One section of fence was designed by a carpenter who also does beadwork. The combination of wire fencing strongly reinforced top and bottom by recycled redwood boards, sections of old fence moved from old boundary lines, and eucalyptus poles is strung like a beautiful necklace along the property line. It is varied and pleasing, a part of the play between randomness and order.
Somewhere between “Good fences make good neighbors” and “Something there is that doesn't love a wall” exists a kind of fence that reflects a desire to be part of the larger picture, with flexible and friendly boundaries. I want to see my neighbors, but not too much and not all the time. I want privacy but a friendly wind blowing through, a barrier that is permeable to quail, seeds of California oatgrass from the field across the street, and my sense of connection to my neighborhood.
STUDY THE NATURAL LANDSCAPE
When garden problems reach a dead end, ideas can come through personal exploration and reading. A red elderberry in a coastal garden became huge, thriving beyond what we had expected. Nothing seemed to do well near it. Reading that elderberry and sword fern hold the nests of Swainson's thrushes and Wilson's warblers near coastal creeks, we decided to use sword fern as the nearby underplanting, hoping to draw these lovely singers. On a hike, I saw that creek dogwood, a deciduous shrub comely at all times of the year, but particularly in the fall when its leaves turn shades of purple and orange, was thriving near elderberry. We planted that too.
PLAYING FAVORITES: DESIGN FOR THE WHOLE PICTURE
In an otherwise excellent book about butterfly gardening, one author advises against planting berry-bearing shrubs or trees. Such plantings will attract birds, he says, which might prey upon the caterpillars that turn into butterflies. Since his focus is on butterflies, he wants to enhance the environment for butterflies only, advising readers, “Avoid cultivating plants which have fruits or seeds that birds eat and which do not attract butterflies.”
Once I watched an enraptured mammalogist rush toward a badger hole, crushing a lone specimen of a rare Dichelostemma at which I was gazing. I know butterfly fanciers who welcome the devastating advance of certain invasive non-native plants because a favored butterfly may be able to use this plant. Favoring a particular species over others seems to be a human propensity.
I have a new neighbor next door. At the edge of her property is an extremely tall Monterey pine. Not long after she bought the place, we noticed a blue milk bottle crate high up in the tree. We gazed at it in wonderment, speculating as to how and why it was there. Turned out my neighbor had placed it there, hoping to attract owls.
Some of us “old-timers” laughed at this hopeful act. Owl requirements are more complicated than a box in a tree, and there didn't seem to be any owls in this coastal scrub habitat. But I was slightly worried. If it worked, which wasn't likely, how would it affect my beloved back-yard quail?Moving to a new neighborhood and introducing a predator right away seemed a thoughtless idea. For a number of reasons, I garden for quail: historical (they used to be here in flocks of thousands), aesthetic (is there a prettier bird than the California quail?), and emotional (such sweet, homeloving creatures). Counting back-yard quail is a way I have of reassuring myself, like counting rosary beads, that things are still somewhat okay.
It is hard for humans to avoid playing favorites. The vole specialist must have some innate fondness for the vole, the lily fancier for the lily. On the positive side, our natural tendency to divide and specialize, from which much knowledge has been gained, is a form of love. It may be that tribal divisions into clans, each of which had its own totem, was an example of this human proclivity for alliance.
Specialists studying family dynamics advise noninterference in most sibling quarrels. By planting in such a way as to replicate natural plant associations you can, like a good parent, avoid playing favorites. Provide habitat for basic needs, and let the kids fight it out.
WHAT BIRDS REALLY WANT
Much has been written about gardening to attract birds or butterflies. In seeking to draw birds to the garden, note that, in general, birds (unlike butterflies and some insects) require a certain habitat structure rather than a particular plant. Habitat structure supplies shelter, roosting, nesting, and food-finding opportunities. Some birds want open plains, some prefer deep woods, some want access to both. Some require proximity to a number of different plant communities, one for each life function. Some stay close to home all their lives; others travel great distances. What birds visit your garden depends on many factors, only some of which are under your control.
The Point Reyes Bird Observatory studies birds of the coastal scrub. I learn from them what birds I might expect with my plantings of coastal scrub plants. Since that particular
