Sprinter is Over

Las Cruces is generally too far south this far west, and too far east this far south, to get surprised by wintry weather after some point in March, let alone snow.

Though there was April 1983’s 7 inch snowfall around Easter. But I was in high school then, far away in Denver, where it snows almost every April a few times!

With a persistent cool and unsettled pattern of a waning El NiƱo along the west coast, we even managed to stay a little cooler than usual. But after a few weeks of spring then winter, and back and forth (“sprinter”), it’s warming nicely here in the last half of April. Sprinter is over, it’s spring.

The plantings nearby and in town are responding.

Since this streetscape is a couple neighborhoods from my home and on the way to my hiking spot, I see at least a few sections of it each week. While bullet-proof planting and irrigation design is going into entropy due to a lack of any maintenance* savvy, there are still a number of places that still have appeal.

(*I was the landscape architect and primary designer on this years ago, and those plans included an entire sheet with clear maintenance graphics and scheduling by plant type, so…zero excuses)

Yucca faxoniana (Faxon or Palm Yucca) are at peak flowering, though over half have died in the last decade.

Some of the Blue Ranger (Leucophyllum zygophyllum ‘Cimarron’) shrubs were starting to flower, so given the year of drought it is likely proof this section of the drip irrigation line is functioning.

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Returning home after an energizing but brisk hike, I drove past two of the Las Estancias neighborhood entries. ‘Silver Sierra’ Texas Mountain Laurel (Dermatophyllum secundiflorum ‘Silver Sierra’) is ending it’s 2 week show of flower and fragrance.

And the exit onto Anthem Road, back from where I drove from home for my hike and these photos.

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At home on my patio, I enjoyed some shade and the cool breezes, with my own, future back garden area at home. Mostly native wildflowers and grasses have been volunteering into this spot for all 5+ years living here.

From warm, dry afternoon light, to nearly the same vantage point with also dry but chilled morning light.

Only the Agave weberi and hybrid Opuntia aren’t native. In the ground we have Giant Dropseed (Sporobolus gigantea), Fluffgrass (Dasychloa pulchella), and Desert Marigold (Baileya multiradiata) slowly multiplying, as they sway and dance in the daily breezes.

And within the week, I was able to spend a couple hours returning to looking at my design ideas here and throughout the property.

Intersection After a Rain

Seeing clouds many mornings with afternoons less hot, I enjoyed my workout hikes and the drives through my old design once again. Last summer, that is.

Photos from 8/30/2023:

Dasylirion wheeleri and Yucca faxoniana shine for the drive north on Anthem, along with a volunteer Chilopsis linearis tree.

The masses and pops of color are Leucophyllum zygophyllum ‘Cimarron’. Their spicy but sweet fragrance through open car windows is what the doctor ordered.

While flowers are fleeting, and my work is about how gardens and landscapes shouldn’t rely on flowers for interest, their response to milder, wetter weather mirrors the human response.

At the intersection to enter the neighborhood, moisture-fueled flowering compliments the more static wildscape and plantings.

The low entry wall or monumentation once shown in plan may have been deleted by the developer, but I might add it back using Adobe Illustrator!

Framing my photos to avoid maintenance pitfalls is needed more than I prefer, but the sins of add-ons that ruin their investment, such as out-of-place boulders or plant clutter, have another techie solution: Adobe Photoshop. The only person who should be ashamed of such photo edits is the doer of the sin, not the clean-up crew!

Photoshop and cropping worked well, at least to my eyes.

Even without my entry wall, repetition of plants and their forms, plus some randomness, proved the winner here.

The same ‘Cimarron’ Ranger plants had already finished flowering inside the entry median, while they were at peak bloom on the sides and longer median on Anthem.

On the other side of the Las Estancias neighborhood entry, the drip emitters may no longer be functioning. That’s based on the declining vigor of the yuccas and Nolina greenei.

The new maintenance contractor, directed by their association instead of the developer, seems more qualified to do productive maintenance.

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Almost home and back to work, a nearby neighborhood is where good luck made its rare appearance.

Front yard landscape photos aren’t easy to get, where mostly retired people live. But that day, this couple’s land-scraper hadn’t yet chopped back their Rose of Sharon / Hibiscus syriacus, and there was no sign of either person.

Just me for some covert photos, except for their (probably) door camera!

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Gladly, we’re slowly warming up into what looks to be a pleasant, longer spring.

Though it’s months from our area’s plant growth peak, even the hottest and driest weeks of summer prior are nowhere in sight. Meaning there’s time to enjoy more of these past and current drive-bys.

Early Spring, Plant Check-in

This past spring, I was out and about in Albuquerque for car service, some work, and a workout hike. Plus, a break from my daily routine.

Though spring was late to start, the weather was quite pleasant after the first day. Since I couldn’t visit the previous winter and see landscapes in their cool season appearance, dormancy lingered for me this time.

Photos are from April 6-7, 2023:

Late afternoon light at Bill’s home showed off his Euphorbia rigida in flower mode, with evergreen Nolina greenei among still-bare Forestiera neomexicana.

After some work and then a drive in the valley to find a few old projects and interesting plants, I changed into jeans and a nicer shirt. It was time for a quick stop by a firm I do some independent contractor work for.

Their firm fronts a busy street through a number of office parks, one of several with landscapes moving past that town’s pre-2000 aspirations towards Midwestern lolipop trees and lawns.

The design by that same firm masses plants native to the greater region on the frontage. Cochineal-spotted Opuntia lindheimeri from Texas greens up the concrete wall, softened by state grass, Bouteloua gracilis. From the mid-elevations of central Arizona to southwestern New Mexico, beefy Nolina microcarpa fills in with bluish Dasylirion wheeleri.

After a half hour there, I drove on now-busy I-25 and I-40 up to the foothills to get in a seriously steep hike before indulging at a new restaurant by UNM.

That landscape and water harvesting cistern is by another designer, but it uses some locally and regionally native plants in a loose arrangement.

After a quick change back into a tee, shorts, and hiking boots, I hit the trail. That soft crunch of decomposed granite soil as I headed uphill was what I needed. The sun on my back felt a bit warm, at least combined with the constant effort of the nearly-1,000-foot climb in under a mile.

“The mountain lion-colored hills”, someone else wrote for here.

Also powering through a tan background of granite rock are evergreen plant forms, including Cylindropuntia imbricata, Nolina greenei, Yucca baccata, Quercus turbinella, and Cercocarpus brevifolius.

I’m enjoying this crazy quilt of colortapestry of prairie and montane … bold but spare mix of foothill and desert grassland plants, though the monsoon season was months away.

With many opportunities to stop and catch one’s breath, the ideas flow.

Strong plants hold down these dry slopes, where even the xeric oaks have spiky leaves, with Nolina and various grasses underneath. Big views, soft and sharp, bold, and bodacious, though awaiting soaking rain to pop some floral displays and elusive greens.

Warm season grasses dotting the area, an occasional, larger green plant adds mass and visual interest. To all the wild birds, lizards, or pollinators, plenty of great places to hang out when people like me are near or far. Opuntia engelmannii and the previously mentioned plants are in attendance.

Keeping on, the land tries to be a woodland or at least a dwarfed one. It’s really an open chaparral, at the elevation and dryness limits of desert grassland and chaparral.

The only times I saw a ringtail cat were right below, twice in 15 years of hikes. No pics, but they’re like small raccoons. The real cats are few but don’t like you seeing them.

Do you see why I stress and design with plenty of evergreen and sculpture plants, when flowering is fleeting and growth comes in quick sprints, only to fade?

A garden depending on flowers and mesic grasses is a very plain version of what all these foothills are, without the greens of cacti, yuccas, and live oaks. Not to mention the foothills have those huge granite boulders forming the look and mood, which cannot be obtained or afforded in the nearby gardens in town.

Now, the trail levels out, with a higher vantage point than previous views.

That’s Pinus edulis, here with more Opuntia engelmannii and Yucca baccata. At least today, while sticking to Latin or botanical names. There’s some ducking through a boulder tunnel, and a gentle climb or two left to the high point.

The last bit of that day’s trail, usually with plenty of Verbena wrightii, Castilleja integra, or Corydalis / Scrambled Eggs coloring up the greenish grama grasses by this time of year. Had there been more cool season moisture. No such luck, yet we’re in luck with those Cylindropuntia imbricata, larger than most below – more rain and soil.

Flowers or not: the reward, other than staying in shape.

Rush hour? What rush hour? I named this The Perch while looking up at it from my last home, so long ago. From up here, one can see 75 miles west to Mount Taylor or south to the Magdalena Mountains near Socorro. Possibly further?

But this is the top of that hike – to compare, my old house is 5,650 ft elevation.

10 minutes from my car, 10 minutes on the freeway with rush hour over and going the opposite direction, anyway.

Good music cranked up, the sunroof is open as I drove towards into the western skies. Enough time to get back to Bill’s home on lower ground, freshen up, put on fresh clothes, and make our dinner reservation at Mesa Provisions.

And yes, it was a great meal and experience!

Yucca rostrata, Yucca baccata, Yucca recurvifolia – the yucca state.

Cedrus atlantica ‘Glauca’, an Agave salmiana, and other members of my own plant palette were seen around, as I sought out good coffee, to get some work completed. Of course, I was armed with a couple croissants, seated outside at a patio table.

My last full day ended by catching up with Will at the above firm at his home, the workday over. His neighbors Rick and Diane, who I haven’t seen in well over a decade, were there. We sat by his pool, in the shade, and talked planning and plants, and personal updates.

I’ll post a bit more on Rick and Diane’s landscape another time.

Those last two photos were from the neighborhood opposite Indian School from Will and Rick, enroute to dinner in that strangely, now unfamiliar town that’s changed little. The masses of two sotols were by far one of the more appealing plantings nearby: Dasylirion wheeleri in blue-green, Dasylirion texanum or D. leiophyllum in green.

Paired with the contemporary home and low retaining / garden wall, that front area didn’t try to do too much but fail. It did all that was necessary, then spoke clearly.

The pines and Yucca faxoniana, with soon-to-green up Chilopsis linearis, finished the statement.