Books-in-law

Allan Ross Taylor

That's my brother in law above--who turned 90 last December 24, 2021--more about him in a bit...but first I must confess that I failed to find the very first book he gave me (which I know I still possess, I run into it at least once a year, and always read a few of the haiku in it) In the process of looking I counted my bookcases for the very first time--there are 36 of them (including 2 at my office at work), many of them very large and all crammed tightly with books. The flowery covered, slim book of haiku was one he gave me as a child (about the time he married my much older sister) is hiding in one of them. I ransacked my library trying to find a copy of that very book and failed. I know it's in there somewhere! Miraculously I was able to locate an image of the cover on the web: here it is:

 Check back in a week or so: I probably have my childish name (Peter Callas) inscribed in it--if I find it I'll scan it for your (and my) amusement!

The book was published in 1960: he probably gave it to me about the same time--and it was the beginning of a long line of books from Allan that had a profound influence on my life: I owe that gentleman more than I reckon I could relate in a blog post (such as my introduction to rock gardening, re-learning Modern Greek--and lots more that is really tangential to this post). Not too long after Allan gave me the book of haiku (which sparked my lifelong love of poetry, not to mention interest in East Asia) he gave me the following book:

Which very likely was responsible for my spending 8 years studying modern and ancient Chinese and learning at one point thousands of characters and memorizing hundreds of Tang Dynasty poems in Chinese (don't ask--I can still recite quite a few lines of Po Chu-i's "Song of Never Ending Sorrow")..as it turns out this was a bit of of a dead end for me: my talent for languages was not quite up to his (Allan is an accomplished polyglot)...

 I don't think this is the copy of Unpopular Essays Allan had on his bookshelf--though judging by the price on the cover, it could have been. I so worshiped my brother-in-law as a youngster I'd browse the bookshelves where he kept his reading (he lived in my parents home for a while after he and my sister got married) and I'd borrow books like this off the shelf and devour them and then place them back carefully. This volume had a profound impact on my views towards religion among other things--Allan's influence in my life has been pervasive

I tell much more of the story ("A Rocky Start") of Allan's early influence on me--especially my gardening--starting on page 83 of the book above (which you can obtain from Abebooks for the measly price of $4.49 with free shipping if you can believe it!)...

So Allan and books and I have a long bibliological history--over 60 years worth to be honest. How many decades have we exchanged books--usually weighty (and often expensive tomes) with one another at Christmas or birthdays? That's one of the reasons I need all those bookcases! In fact, one Christmas we gave each other the SAME book which was quite expensive at the time (it was 2003--just checked) and had our good friend Sean Hogan's name as editor. Here life imitates mediocre art (O. Henry's "the Gift")

 You can get this book much more cheaply nowadays, I hasten to add...so Allan has fanned the flame not only for my bibliophilia but for all manner of learning. I suppose I'd have to say he's probably been the greatest intellectual influence in my life overall--which is saying a lot--Boulder Public Schools which I attended as a child had a lot of inspiring teachers, as my college studies did as well. Allan towers over all of them, I'm afraid--mostly because he lit so many flames when I was young and impressionable I suppose! But mostly because of my lifelong love and admiration for him.

 So our nuclear family has gotten rather jaded each Christmas or birthday decade after decade as Allan and I continue our bookish exchange as we chatter to each other about the books we've just exchanged, and about past books we received and how much we've enjoyed them and on and on...it's one of those sempiternal leitmotifs that weave through long, rich and crazy and above all happy lives like ours, which I'm sharing with you now...mostly as a consequence of his most recent book gift.

 This past Christmas, instead of a book of East Asian poetry, or English philosophy, or the much more frequently shared plant books Allan gave me a book about the history of mammals.

I just finished reading the last page a few hours ago: I savored this remarkable book for nearly a week--reading a chapter, sometimes two every night. The author is a very youthful Ph.D Scotswoman (Elsa Panciroli), who possesses a powerful pen (or laptop more likely I suppose). She has wonderful stories to tell. A lot of them! Her picture on the flyleaf reminds me a bit of a feminine version of Allan, come to think of it. I do love anything Scots!

Who knew that mammals were the dominant animal life forms in the Permian, long before the "age of Dinosaurs"--the Mesozoic. And who ever thought that such a proliferation of Mammalian fossils had been discovered dating from the Triassic? Elsa's stories expand (as mammals did) all through the Mesozoic and in the ages subsequent to the Cretaceous-Paleogene Extinction event of 66 million years ago! She relates the complex history of the discovery of these fossils, the personalities of dozens of Paleontologists who did the discovery and the wealth of complex issues including colonialism, sexism, politics and personality that cloud so much of our modern world. And all through you can hear a wonderful voice of a lucid intellect--and perhaps a bit of her Scottish burr (I so love Scotland if you can tell?) Sorry for flashing all those Geologic ages terms at you--I had the world's best Geology teacher in 8th grade who made Geologic history stick for me.

When he first gave me the book at first I wondered "do I really want to read a book about mammals"? I have stacks of books next to my armchair, my bed, in my bathroom---everywhere--all yearning to be read.

But I've learned, if Allan gives it to me, I'm probably going to read it and love it.

And of course, he's not just a gardener, a linguist but an accomplished anthropologist: and of COURSE the history of mammals is the history of humans. It made perfect sense afterwards. He was sharing himself again.

Not only Mormons, everyone seems to be into geneology of some sort, if not Ancestry.com itself (I thought it was a bit of a scam myself). And boy, have I got one over them after I'd read this book! It's the real deal! I can trace my ancestry back to the Cambrian!

I know if you've read this far, you too probably have stacks of books everywhere waiting to be read: you could do far worse than order Beasts Before Us--it's apt to trump (forgive the sullied verb) the others and rise to the top of the stack for you as well! Believe me, you can trust Allan on books! It's worked wonders for me!

AN AFTERTHOUGHT:

After re-reading my blog I realized just how powerful a gesture it is for a beloved adult to give books to children--and not necessarily children's books. Although I suspect most of the books donated are children's books, I believe the impact of Dolly Parton's Imagination Library must be enormous over time. If your not familiar with Dolly's work with books and kids, do click on that highlighted link: she must surely be the wisest celebrity as well as a damn good song writer and singer. Although I personally think the bar for celebrity-hood is mighty low. If Hollywood Squares were broadcast nowadays, I can guarantee you I'd not recognize a single square (and be quite sure most of them were morons).

No end of wonders out of Africa

Crevice garden at Karoo Botanical Garden, Worcester South Africa

Funny how one forgets things: I've visited the Karoo Botanic Gardens several times, most recently in 2009 when it was in full glorious bloom. My first visit it was in late summer: not so floriferous. Back in 1997 (or so) crevice gardening hadn't quite caught on in the States: I nevertheless photographed this pretty crevicy garden--probably built by Bruce Bayer in the 1970's. My subsequent trips have lots of flowers, but I neglected to focus in on these crevice garden elements. Is there nothing new under the sun?

Here's a closeup of another bed at that garden full of "vygies"--the little figs which is the Afrikaans name for what we call "ice plants" in English. They thrive in such a setting, as friends in California are discovering!

Here's a wild crevice garden I photographed on that same trip--not far from Middelpos. The white cushions are a species of Antimima, The green another vygie. What I would give to go back to the Roggeveld! One of the most species rich spots on earth--with real Continental winters to boot!

Babiana truncata

This was taken quite high on the Roggeveld on an early trip. This species has a wide range--but here it was growing in a very cold area. Oh to have seed of this form! 

A tiny Asteraceae in a gorgeously lichened rock nearby...crevice gardens aren't just man made!

I have never determined the species of this Diascia--an annual from the cold Karoo. If someone has access to a monograph and tell me, I'll label it. What a little gem! One would need a trough or crevice garden to show it off at home, I'm sure you'd agree!

Unknown species of Ixia from the high, cold Roggeveld near Middelpos

One of innumerable treasures from that magical trip I yearn we may one day grow. This has haunted me for years. I think I showed this and the one below at least once before on this blog. I think they deserve a second viewing.

Gladiolus splendens

This IS in cultivation--and despite it's high Karoo origins has not proved hardy for us (yet). I photographed this on that same amazing trip to the Karoo with the Indigenous Bulb Society of Capetown.

Lessertia (Sutherlandia) montana

Not sure where or when I photographed this: I've seen it quite a few places--but showing it in a crevice setting.

Gladiolus alatus

We've left the Karoo--and now these were photographed on Renosterveld somewhere not far from Franshoek in the Western Cape. Oh, if there were only hardy forms of these little, rhizomatous glads!

Had to show more pictures of them!

The real reason for this blog: this is a shot of unforgettable Rachel Saunders--half of the team that owned Silverhill Seeds. The Saunders hosted me on that trip at their home (I shall never forget hearing gunfire all night in their neighborhood--in a "secure" part of Capetown). I should not have been shocked to find out that twenty years later she and her husband Rod would be killed by hooligans on a plant foray: a nightmare scenario that will haunt me till the day I die. Their book on Gladioli was just published and I got my copy of that book yesterday: see below. The plant surrounding Rachel is Gazania krebsiana: I shall never forget making the caravan stop here (once we stopped all the bulbophiles were glad--they were focused on root succulents). We grew this form from Silverhill they collected at this very spot: alas, it only bloomed once in the spring although it was hardy. But G. krebsiana 'Tanager' from Plant Select blooms all summer!

ISBN: 978-1-77584-761-8

 Here's the Saunders' book: a monument--completed by friends and full of their photographs and of pictures of this amazing couple who possessed such colossal knowledge and love of their country--a magnificent place cursed with violence and the chthonic problems of flawed human "civilization".

May God help South Africa, and all of us, perched as we are in a world where China extinguishes freedom in Hong Kong (or tries to) and where Russia with that idiot Putin at the helm is about to invade Ukraine.

I detest firearms and aggression and the evil heart of  humanity that seeks to dominate others. Were it not for the gentle, kind, wise souls such as Rod and Rachel, I would despair of humanity. Them--and of course flowers!

I hate so much!

I hate oatmeal for breakfast (so what if everyone I love likes it!).  I hate almost all television (I've probably watch less then ten minutes a month on average over the past thirty years). I detest what the Republican party has become. I hate consumerist culture and all the middle aisles of the grocery store. I hate rush hour traffic. I hate action movies or any movie that depicts graphic violence. I hate cruelty to animals, but I'm on the verge of hating PETA for their excesses (except for their clever use of nudity: I like that). I could continue this list (possibly indefinitely: it's great fun)...but isn't it more constructive and enlightening to share what we love? 

Of course, you know I love plants. And books. But I'll share here what I really love in the way of movies!

I love anything by Wes Anderson. Especially...

Click on that delightful parody of a New Yorker cover and you'll get a distorted taste of one of the most wonderful movies I've ever seen! The French Dispatch restored my faith in movies. Maybe in mankind. Of course, I love the New Yorker (albeit my subscription has lapsed...again) and dote on all things French (to a point), But at the same time I never suspected these two would provide a vast mine (or perhaps I should say mine field) of hilarious satire,

I mean REALLY! The New Yorker as a weekend supplement to a uber-provincial Kansas newspaper: how rich is that!? Romantic Paris on the Seine transformed into Ennui-en-Blasé? My heart leapt higher than a Moulin Rouge chorus dancer can kick!

I had to seek out the New Yorker review of the movie, which Bobby Ward (Secretary of NARGS and a dear friend of many  years) provided--click on the highlighted phrase to access it. I confess--I couldn't because I've exceeded my "free" access to the New Yorker! Fortunately Jan hadn't--so she downloaded and printed the review, which isn't as good as the movie [honestly, how dense has that publication become? In a perfect world (one without Trump for instance) they would have asked Wes to review it!] But at least the reviewer agrees with me that it's a wonderful thing.

I'll come clean: I've been pissed at the New Yorker ever since they launched the review of Denver Art Museum's Liebeskind expansion with the colossally arrogant dismissal of my home city of choice (Denver) as a "second tier" city. No doubt because Denver doesn't have the magnitude of bloated population, problems or baggage of the Big Apple, L.A., or the Windy City? As if the status of cities were gauged by the magnitude of their ineptitude and gross size.

I hope now that they've been humbled by Wes, they'll apologize--especially since Mayor Hancock has hastened to have us join those megalomaniopolises with unbridled growth and infill.

As for France--why does she deserve such a dressing down? Of course there are many Frances: there's Anatole France, the France of Toulouse Lautrec posters and the American expats and a real France that is immune to literary or artistic depiction or parody. This movie wallows and revels in the second of these Frances and her myriad clichés!

Okay, I admit there's a bit of schadenfreude in my love of the French Dispatch...

I loved the movie's truly novel cinematography, it's blatant and honest and fantastic artifice and artificiality that masks so well and yet so inefficiently its vast depths of pathos, compassion and love. Unlike the earnest classics we all love--the by now practically hackneyed Casablancas, the Godfathers and Spielberg, Tarantino etc. glossy monoliths, this movie is rococo, wildly slapstick, incredibly evocative in costumes, settings and story line, and ultimately....well...it's my cup of tea. Do take a sip!

Sumptuous succulents!

Sedum (Prometheum) sempervivioides

 Very near the top of my list of all time favorite plants, this (unfortunately) monocarpic succulent from Western Asia is one I keep trying to keep: It blooms, sets tons of seed, dies--but I have yet to have it self sow: I will be a happy man when it does!

Dudleya pumila

 We've succeded in growing and blooming a handful of species of Dudleya--this one is my favorite so far. Alas, we haven't had any persist more than a few years in Colorado outdoors--but we will keep on trying!

Viola cotyledon

I know it's cruel to keep showing you these: I have a hard time believing myself that I was just in Argentina, on Volcan Copahue to be exact little more than a month ago walking past hundreds of these: I have the pictures to prove it. Looks like such an innocent violet until you notice the symmetrical succulent rosettes: Wowza!

TRhodiola primuloides ?

And what of this tiny morsel, photographed at over 15,000' in 2019 on Galong La in Tibet: woo hooo! Now if I only knew what it really is,..

Sedum ternatum

It may be white--but what wonderful leaves and habit! I never want to be without this classic of the Eastern Hardwood forest. 

Delosperma ashtonii

How to pick from the dozens of Delosperma? I got stymied after the letter "A"-- but this tiny plant in my garden (I've marveled over it in nature as well....just look back at the amazing diversity of just a handful of succulents I just gathered and posted for you: notice that none of them are overly xeric. There are succulents for all parts of your garden. This Saturday, experts from the four corners of North America will guide you to the best and most inspiring ways of using these fantastic (and underappreciated) plants.

You don't want to miss this one! Click HERE for more info!

I have me doots about this progress thing.

 I'll get around to White's biography of Proust in a bit--but this unusual blog post is really an attempt to gather a few thoughts together that have been scampering around my brain, much the way a dozen or so kid goats might scamper around you if you wandered into their enclosure. I suspect my thought process I will describe here is probably rather similar to what many of you experience ongoingly: a series of experiences (going to the movie, watching an opera, going to an art gallery, reading various books and articles: all of these played a part in this essay) have coalesced--or rather--elements of all these experiences have reflected upon one another to provide a sort of insight which is (in my case) that perhaps we haven't progressed as far as we think we have. That may not be a bad thing. Or is it?

The impetus for this blog was watching Steven Spielberg's production of ...

West Side Story last night with Jan at "the movies". Who hasn't seen the original movie of 1961? For some of us on the verge of our teens, watching this was as profoundly searing an experience as Psycho had been a few years earlier (yes, I saw that as a pre-teen: there were no ratings back then and kids were exposed to all sorts of things--rather like computers nowadays). 

The extraordinary romance blended with violence and blatant racist overtones were a heady mix for a kid: but the very mood and patina of film--not too far removed from the stage performance in some ways--imprinted itself on me. I'd re-watched this movie several times over the decades: it seemed so perfect an object of art I never would have dreamed anyone would think to "remake" it. Would you remake "Groundhog day"? I guess they have done re-treads of "Ghostbusters" (God forbid). I admit I was shocked when they remade "The Producers"--the second version is extremely watchable (I may even have a DVD of it) but get real--who could ever surpass Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder? Mel Brooks' skill as director and producer had grown enormously over the nearly 40 years between these productions--but part of the charm of the earlier movie may have been its lack of studio polish--just as the original "West Side story" resonates because it's basically a Broadway Musical shot in the real New York.

The problem with modern remakes is that they cater slavishly to fancy screen effects:"Star Wars", "Lord of the Rings"--hell, every goddamn film over the last decade or two is so lavishly computerized, whiz-banged with over the top cinematography that little things like plot, story line, theme, character and substance are glossed over in the process. Spielberg is perhaps the uber-meister of artifice in movies.  The actors in this remake of West Side Story are superb, the dances are so spectacular they'd make Busby Berkeley blush, New York's slums and vintage cars are realer than real...the incredible cinematography, the over the top everything almost smothers the story line at times (and that's not easy to do with this story). Almost is the key word: I was glad I saw it. When all is said and done, I'll stick with the earlier version thank you. They told us it employed 15,000 people to make this reduplicative and second rate film. That's not progress in my book.

And so it is with so many facets of our so called modern life. A leitmotif that weaves through so much that I see, read, experience and observe is that we have propelled ourselves a little ahead of where we ought to be: we have sold our selves wholesale to rampant change, technological gadgetry, convenience and what not...but what I wouldn't give to exchange a few weeks of life today for a week or two in the fin de siècle, la Belle Epoch, namely the late Victorian era--but in France. Which I suppose is what I've basically done in the last week or so by some other excursions.

Mary Cassatt "Mother-and-Child"

The Denver Art Museum stages no end of "blockbusters" and the current exhibition "Whistler to Cassatt: American Painters in France" is outstanding. Of course, seeing large numbers of Cassat, Whistler, but also Sargeant canvases is in itself a pleasure, but I was amazed to see how many other Americans studied at the salons in Paris and produced exquisite paintings: there had to be well over a dozen names I'd never heard of. Looking at so many wonderful paintings, and reading the well curated program of the exhibit that almost transported you to the late decades of the 19th century gave me a sense of the fantastic sophistication that prevailed at that time. Reading White's biography of Proust of course underscored this lesson...*

Metropolitan Opera H.D. broadcast of Jules Massenet's "Cinderella"

A week ago today (it was on Saturday, New Years day we attended the Met Opera H.D. live opera broadcast of "Cinderella" (the photo above captures a smidgeon of its whimsy). For those of you who don't go to those productions, more's the pity--that's real progress! Honestly, the thought of watching an opera of an old fairy tale wasn't something I'd yearned for--but I've learned that anything the Met does is worth the ridiculously modest cost. We and our friends had a whole theater to ourselves! The production was brilliant (so brilliant that one overlooked that the fetching Prince Charming was a woman). So here technology succeeds--but what echoed in my mind was that this was the music of La Belle Epoch! This reinforced the fantastic renaissance of painting, music and writing (here we adumbrate Proust!) at a time of magical cultural florescence!

I know that life in the late Victorian era was more than a bit tawdry and that there were no end of social, political, and other issues faced by people in America, Europe and their myriad colonies. Museums and Universities are busily focused trying to somehow clean up the moral, ethical and social consequences of that colonialism, which a piece of my socialistic heart sorta believes in.

I wish they'd focus a bit more on how that period was able to produce artists like the great French and American impressionists, like Messenet and the late Romantic composers of  Germany and France and especially like Tolstoy, Dickens, Flaubert, Pérez Galdós and ultimately Marcel Proust in the realm of writing. The last half of the 19th Century saw perhaps the apogee of discovery in Biology and Geology in the realm of Natural History. William Robinson and Gertrude Jeckyll (and their European compeers) more or less invented ornamental horticulture as I practice it today.

My epiphany has come about rather slowly, partly due to reading the essays of T.D.A. Cockerell (Colorado's greatest biologist) who grew up in Victorian England (I reference these in a previous blog)...Cockerell (who was close to and worked with Alfred Russel Wallace) acknowledged his profound debt to William Morris and John Ruskin.

Reading White's superb biography of  Proust, Ruskin's name leaped out at me again: Proust translated two of Ruskin's seminal books (the originals of which in Victorian bindings are sitting on my  shelves). I realized reading the biography, steeped in the milieu of movies, exhibitions of late 19th century art that the Arts and Crafts movement was NOT a dusty, dismal faddish obsession with wall paper and oaken furniture. Ruskin and Morris were major architects of the Social transformation of Great Britain from an absolutist, aristocratic Monarchy to the Socialist, far more egalitarian Constitutional government Britain was to become in the 20th Century. Ruskin and Morris have risen to the top of my must read list.

The extraordinary Aesthetic renaissance of la Belle Epoch (equal in my mind to the Italian Renaissance in music, art and especially Literature) represented the outward expression of a seething philosophical ferment among aestheticians and social thinkers on how to create a society for everyone that was commensurate to the extraordinary art of the few.

We are the heirs of that era: I find myself looking back more and more to them for inspiration and insights. I wish we'd remake, retread and recreate (not literally or slavishly of course) the extraordinary blend of art, science and social consciousness which they perfected. And which we have not.

Progress is not a linear thing I fear.

*If you live in the Metropolitan area (or even beyond) do make a point of seeing this exhibition at the Denver Art Museum it will be on until March 13.

Yearning for Euphorbia...

Euphorbia clavarioides ssp. truncata on Ben Macdhui

I hasten to aver that this is Ben Macdhui highest peak in the East Cape of South Africa (3,001-metre (9,846 ft)) and NOT Ben MacDui  (1,309 metres (4,295 feet)) second highest peak in Scotland. Twenty five years ago this March, Jim Archibald and I drove on what is now Ben Macdhui pass--which is even higher than Sani Pass--turned a corner and saw this hillside at nearly 2800 m. covered with these magnificent mounds! I've been haunted by these little blobs--like extraterrestrials invading Earth--ever since. But I've not had lasting luck in my garden with them alas!

Euphorbia clavarioides in Rod Haenni's garden, Littleton

Rod Haenni (whose name will come up again in a bit) HAS had luck in Littleton, Colorado. Not that I'm jealous or anything! I like Rod, fortunately. Otherwise my little effigy of him would be full of cholla spines...

Euphorbia acanthocanthus, Mt. Hymmeto, Attica

How I have admired the perfectly symmetrical mounds of this exquisite Euphorbia that light up the lower foothills and plains throughout Greece in March and April. I know darned well it wouldn't grow for us!

Euphorbia spinosa at APEX Simms St. Arvada, Colorado

Who cares if E. acanthocanthus is tender: we can grow its lookalike cousin E. spinosa, which was blooming to perfection last May at the fantastic APEX garden designed by Kenton Seth and Paul Spriggs... notice the Eriogonum ovalifolium it's swallowing--and will probably soon swallow Castilleja integra to boot! First world problems, those! 

Euphorbia cf. myrsinites Mt. Tymfristos

I have a gigantic chip on my shoulder (I'm not talking potato or buffalo chips, mind you!) We are not supposed to grow Euphorbia myrsinites (which I agree has become a pest in our foothill environments). One of my otherwise all time favorite colleagues removed all the myrtle spurge from the Rock Alpine Garden almost 20 years ago (which I've never forgiven him, b.t.w.) Frankly, I don't give a Tinker's damn if this were a weed: I'd grow it. Not likely to escape my garden of course--although I'd have a hard time denying it to my friends (except HIM: he could never have a piece).

Euphorbia cf. myrsinites Mt. Tymfristos

I have written not just ONE, but TWO diatribes about Euphorbias: I recommend you click those links and read them both several times. And write your Senators. Except don't write Rand Paul--he's illiterate.

Euphorbia rigida near Izmir, Turkey

Of course, the weed police haven't gone after E. myrsinites big cousin. It helps that it's restrained and just a tad tender so presumably it will remain legal a bit longer...

Of course all the Euphorbia talk is a bit of a smoke screen: I have had a lifelong love affair with succulent plants of all sorts (as do untold millions of people under the age of 40: hurray hurray!) 

We are a mere eight days from the first ever Webinar devoted to the subject of hardy succulents and rock gardens with a stellar list of presenters from the four corners of North America. For a measly $25 (if you're a NARGS member) you can learn a great deal about how a tremendous variety of succulents adapt to all manner of gardens in the cold Midwest, in the hot and humid Southeast, or in the Maritime Northwest (and more). Rod Haenni, Vice President of the Cactus and Succulent Society of America (and lifelong Colorado rock gardener) will present as well as moderate along with Elisabeth Zander!

And if you NOT a NARGS member, you can use this as an opportunity to join up at a DISCOUNT! Just click HERE and DO IT!

Livin' la Vida Succulenta! Olé! (some thoughts about fat-leaves)

Claret cup (Echinocereus mojavensis) and Jan

Yes, cacti can be frightening! But eventually you can get stuck on them in better ways: not many plants on earth can compare to a claret cup in full bloom for floral spectacle!

Echinocereus reichenbachii 'Albispinus'

I treasure my highly variable clumps of "lace cactus" (that comes in an unbelievable variety of spine forms, flower shades and habits). This one is taken in the garden of Rod Haenni (more about him in a bit)...

Sedum dasyphyllum (the country, not the state!)

For the spine averse, there are thousands of succulents lacking any armament: sedums are among the most Universal and variable. I grow dozens of kinds--some can be weedy--but some like this are well behaved. I love how it's nestled in a crustose lichen!

Sedum (Phedimus) littorale

Some are truly remarkable: this sedum comes from the Eurasian far East, a gift of Alexandra Bertukenko from Magadan. It is often neglected in this container--occasionally drying out completely--but ever spring it produces a fantastic show...

Sedum (Phedimus) aizoon and Echinocereus reichenbachii var. baileyi

Here in early winter, the stems of another sedum (closely allied to the last one) in another of my "low maintenance" troughs: succulents are perfect plants for troughs because they'll take neglect and extremes of weather.

Here's another vignette from Georgia-- the Euphorbia isn't technically succulent (but close) painting a bright picture in a sort of wild trough! But notice there's both a Sempervivum and Sedum growing with it!

I was busy photographing wildflowers in Georgia when this cow came to check me out. It's standing next to a bright Euphorbia which (alas) we never brought back...

This is perhaps our most problematical succulent: choice enough to be showcased at Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew's alpine house--but banned in Colorado! Here's another of my polemics about "banned plants" that's relevant here! That Euphorbia is doubly succulent--leaves and the caudex.

Sinninia leucotricha

 Okay, okay--a ROOT succulent (Caudiciform) and not very hardy (definitely wouldn't take subzero like we dish it out in Colorado.) This one's in my lower level kitchen window blooming for weeks before and now after Christmas. But what I DO want to remind you of us that the North American Rock Garden Society is staging the first ever Webinar dedicated to exploring the use of succulents in rock gardens across North America...

Click here for details about the North American Rock Garden Society's midwinter Webinar! If you're a NARGS member it costs only $25. And you can get a bargain membership if you're not NARGS!

Experts from the four corners of North America will discuss how to adapt succulents to outdoor to rockwork and outdoor gardens!