Yucca on the Brain
When I bought this house eleven years ago, I could see it had a beautiful garden, but that was from a quick drive-by from the bottom of the driveway. I never actually set foot on the property until the closing a few months later. At that time I had heard about succulents, but I really didn’t know an agave from an aloe from a yucca. When I moved out here to this hilltop full-time a little over three years ago, I started to take notice of the horticulture around the place. My sister, Kathy, having lived out here for many years, had become quite a sub-tropical gardener, so she gave me a book on succulents written by a local specialist to help me sort out what I have on the property. I have supplemented that book with another three by the same author that delve into the details of the sub-phylum of succulents and all the variants that prosper out here in San Diego. Actually, while our hilltop is in San Diego County, we are enough north and just enough east that we are not really in the sub-tropical climate of coastal San Diego, but are rather in the more arid chaparral micro-climate of these hills that used to constitute the Daley Ranch before it got subdivided into what is now the enclave of Hidden Meadows.
I call it an enclave because it is sort of considered a part of Escondido but is technically not a part of the City and is, instead, what is called a CDP or Census-Designated Place. I don’t really know where that leaves us other than to say we are in the 50th Congressional District and we are a part of the California legislative map, but have no representation in Escondido or any other town. There are about 3,500 other people in this enclave that share this same amorphous political designation, but I’m still glad I don’t need City services for anything in particular given the judicial limbo we find ourselves in. I should have figured there was something strange about this locale since on my weather.com app (now an IBM company, so I doubt they have screwed this up) my location defaults to Escondido weather, even though I can input Hidden Meadows and it comes up as its own, but, for some reason, different location with weather that is a few degree different. Strange.
When we moved here I wanted to call our address Hidden Meadows rather than Escondido since it sounded better. Escondido is sort of like saying you live in Newark rather than Hidden Meadows, which is sort of like saying Summit, New Jersey. But then I decided that it would be elitist to do that, so I just went with Escondido and that is what our address is listed as and what’s even on our return address stamp. I live in Escondido and am happy to do so along with the other 150,000 residents, 52% of which are Hispanic (as opposed to Hidden Meadows which stands at about 10% Hispanic). Given that I have a Hispanic surname and am often mistaken for being Hispanic by telemarketers (no one would make that mistake if they saw me) and given that I am, actually ½ of Hispanic origin, my father having immigrated here from Venezuela, I am happily part of that 52% even though I don’t know if the rolls show me as such.
And like so many local Hispanics, I guess I have gardening in my blood because I immediately wanted to learn about what was growing in my garden and how to properly care for it and even enhance it. Let’s start by separating the cacti out from the succulent community and then break it down from there. We probably have more agaves on the property than anything else. I say that because I have had to count them when they decide to send up a seed stalk since that is a one-in-a-lifetime event for an agave and I have counted as many as 80 seed stalks some years. For every seed stalk, I estimate that we get three propagated pups that then grow into adult agaves, so our agave collection gets more and more active. We have many different kinds of agaves from the Attenuates to the blue humongous Century Plants. While I like the agaves, I am a bit tentative about the aloes. They are more protective plants with thorny leaves and no need to die off after they send up their seed stalks. They too use pups to propagate in addition to seeds, and they can spread like weeds if unchecked. I’ve had to remove some thickets of aloe near our bedroom wall because they are so dense and treacherous that they provided shelter to rattlesnakes and coyotes, which are something I’m not keen on right next to the house.
We also have several varieties of yuccas since there are about 50 different types. The ones that stand out the most are the ones that grow into trees and get to about 15 feet high with multiple trunks. You don’t want to get too close to those sharp spiky sword-like leaves because an can cut you like a scalpel or poke you like a needle. They are nice ornamental succulents f you keep them well-pruned because they look very artistic in how they reach for the sky and burst forth in every direction with their green and gold plumage. The woman who we bought the house from and who launched the magnificent succulent garden in front was Germanic in heritage and liked things very symmetrical. She planted two of everything on each side of the house as though she were the Noah of the hillside. To the right of the front door are two stately yuccas that Fran the living room windows. To the left of the front door are two stately yuccas framing the kitchen window. We have surrounded both sides with an array of multi-dimensional and multi-colorful river stones that are reddish tan. There are a few agaves at the base, but the dominant planting on both sides are those stately and proud yuccas.
I tend to let the ones over by the living room side grow as they wish since the view out those windows is somewhat shaded and wild looking. But, around the kitchen window I try to keep it tailored and have cut back the yuccas to properly improve the view of the driveway from the kitchen. And that is where my yucca problem began.
As the onomatopoetic word succulent implies, these are fleshy plants that hold lots of water in all of their parts. Their rhizome approach to procreation means you can cut off almost any part of them, stick it in the ground, and it will grow. But that all seems to work for succulents of a certain size and age. While the blue agave Century Plant gets bigger and bigger and bigger, seemingly without end in the swamp form as a little blue agave, that is not so for some other species including cacti like the candelabra cactus, aloes like the candelabra aloe and the Yucca Gigantea. All of those species of succulents get big and have woody trunks. In fact, they get so woody that they really look like trees with succulents at their tops. These monsters last for 15-20 years and my house is now just about 25 years old. The yucca trees in front of my house on either side are thus, starting to age out. I don’t want to lose them and I don’t want to replace them, but nature has a habit of not giving a shit what I want when it comes to my garden. So, I am busy pruning my yuccas and convincing myself that they will be fine for a few more years. Hence, I have yucca on the brain since I am wondering what I will do if my efforts to save the aging beasts end up with a bunch of woody stumps.