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Browse through the links below to see photos and brief descriptions of our various gardens. We garden in Sonora, California at an elevation of 2000' on red, granitic clay punctuated with frequent granite boulders.

Rock Garden

Our main rock garden is on a slope behind our house. We began building it shortly after the house was finished in 2002. The slope faces west and is in the sun for most of the day. The soil is classic foothill red clay, somewhat supplemented by occasional shovels of sand and a gritty top soil mix. The mulch is pea gravel, whatever kind we have piles of at the time, and ranges from 1 to 8 inches deep. 3-4 inches would be perfect and is my target goal.

The garden is watered about once a week in the summer. Peak bloom is in April, with subsequent waves peaking again in May and June.

Entrance to the Rock Garden
Spring bloom in the rock garden
Globularias and Ptilotrichum  with other spring blooming plants.
A Fine Spring
04/24/2009 - 10:23

It has been a good year in the garden. The wave of Aethionemas is starting to fade, and the Eriogonums are just starting to kick in. I am always amazed at how utterly different the garden is every year, a fact I contribute more to my own patterns of exhaustion more than anything else. We use to have lots of choice miniature bun dianthus. I became inordinately weary of the constant battle with the gophers to keep them alive and the garden gradually filled with more rodent resistant plants. We rely on a certain level of self-sowers to help overcome the constant plant attrition due to rodent predation. I always have plans to control who sows seeds where, based on my design preferences. But in the end, it usually boils down to vast populations of plants that I just never got around to deadheading until they had already spread seed in directions I had not really intended. One year the garden was a blue wave of Penstemon heterophyllus. This year a cloud of dianthus hybrids seems to have descended. We had a few Dianthus that have survived the gophers. Among them is a population born from various cheddar pinks, Dianthus nivalis, and a large cultivar known as “Mountain Mist”. I used to think that “Mountain Mist” was called such due to its lovely blue foliage. I have this year decided it is because of its ability to sneak into the garden and quietly, surreptitiously cover everything. I am not really complaining. We have an incredible array of frilly pink Dianthus, and the garden is bathed in a delicious clove scent.
But this year I think I need to do some Dianthus deadheading.