Brad's Tropical Paradise

Rocks make great companions for plants. And I prefer ordinary rocks. I visited a friend of mine yesterday who was selling off an old property that had a lot of ordinary rocks scattered around, and I took as many as I could. The ones that I couldn't carry away will be bulldozed and put in a landfill, anyway. What I've learned over the years is that rocks not only perform functions, but they can look great, too. I started putting them in years ago just to hold down the watering lines, and to remind myself not to dig there. Then I started adding more craggy rocks along the edge (I call them pointy rocks) to discourage people from stepping into the garden. The river rocks I am now using in areas where I just can't seem to get anything to grow, and the effect is pretty cool, as if there was supposed to be a cool stream running there, or something. At least I'm not just looking at dirt! The trick, of course, is to design them in, not just plop them all over the pl

Here in the Phoenix area, properties that were *waaaaayyyy out in the country* just a generation or so ago, often have become quite valuable. What was once a place for horses to graze becomes an area worth subdividing for luxury homes. Progress marches on. I understand, and things can't remain the way that they were forever, but as someone who likes trees, well, it just kind'a makes me sad. I visited a place like that yesterday, tucked away in a very desirable location in Phoenix. And, thanks to some friends of mine, who did all of the work, I rescued a sago palm. Well, as of this morning it's safely here in Glendale. I can't really recommend doing this, in spite of that fact that I'm making the attempt. Although I've transplanted different cycads before (a sago palm is technically a cycad), I've never seen anything like this one. It's huge! but I have high hopes, and am gonna give it my best try. This plant, which is about six feet tall, is

Because a young idiot (me) planted a tree way too close to the wall in my backyard twenty years ago, I had to have it removed a couple of years ago. It was at risk of falling over, and taking the wall with it when it did! It wasn't terribly expensive to have removed, and I had them leave the stump, as I figured I could hide it. I tried hiding it with rocks, but it never looked quite right, so this year I planted some Cape Honeysuckle near it. Cape Honeysuckle grows very quickly and can be trimmed back to a nice bushy shape, as you can see. It grows quickly, and will soon cover up that stump as I *comb it over*. This summer should be the last I see of the tree stump, and the last time that I'm reminded of what an idiot I was. Well, I was young! Live and learn. Brad draws custom cartoon illustrations for publications, blogs, presentations, anything you want. You can contact him at his website  BradHallArt.com

If you have an old sago palm (cycas revoluta ) on your property, similar to the ones in the photo (which aren't mine, by the way - I wish they were!), you may have heard somewhere how outrageously valuable they are. But even if they are six feet tall, like the ones in the photo are, they're only worth a few hundred dollars, and that's a retail price, at a nursery. It has to do with the species of cycad. A sago palm is a cycad. And certain cycads are very rare. And its their rarity that makes them valuable. It takes an expert eye to discern the difference, but that means that a rare plant may be worth many thousands of dollars, and a not-so-rare plant (like the common sago palm) isn't. Personally, I don't care. I'm not a collector, I'm a gardener. The reason that sago palms are the least valuable of all of the cycads is that they are most popular. And they are the most popular, in my opinion, because they are the most beautiful. Yes, cycad collectors m

I love palm trees. When I moved to Phoenix in my teens they represented everything that was exciting about my new life away from Minneapolis. In fact, the very first thing that I did when I drove into Phoenix, coming south from Flagstaff, was to exit, drive a block or two, and get out of my car to touch a palm tree. To me, they are the music of my two favorite cities, Phoenix and Los Angeles. And when I hear someone ask *of what use are they?*, I want to ask *of what use is music?* The most fascinating thing that I've learned in recent years is about the historic palm trees around Phoenix. These are  Washingtonia filifera , also called California fan palms. They're native to the desert, and grow naturally in the canyons of California, in places like Twenty-Nine Palms. Postcard from the early 1900s As compared to the more common palm of Phoenix and Los Angeles, the  Washingtonia robusta , the Washingtonia filifera has a few disadvantages. It grows much, much, slower,

Phoenix, Arizona is a great place to grow plants, but it's not Hawaii. So if you want a tropical look, you have to do a few tricks. I've been experimenting here in Glendale, which is a suburb of Phoenix, for about twenty years now and here are some tricks I've learned: • Don't try to grow ferns. Ferns do terrible here in the desert. No matter how much water you give them, or shade, or misting, the air is just too dry, and the desert gets way too cold in the winter for ferns. The things that look like ferns in the photo are cycads. They give an illusion of ferns, and do great. The most common cycad is called a *sago palm*, but these are dioons. • Plant as much in the shade as you can. The clump of cycads in the photo are tucked up against the east wall of my house, so they only get morning sun, and go into shade by afternoon. There's also a tree just to the left of this photo, which casts some nice summer shade, as it's toward the south side of the yard.

The main problem with outdoor furniture is that it's, well, outdoors. The outdoors is dirty and dusty. I'm a man, so I don't really care, but I've noticed that the gentler sex prefers to sit on surfaces that aren't dirty. And I prefer to have the gentler sex visit me as often as possible! And the solution is beach towels. There is just something so civilized about having beach towels around. I have several, and I make a point of throwing them into the wash on a regular basis, and buying new ones, too. And so here are a few tricks that I've learned: • Put them on the chairs. You may be tempted to keep them folded up, but really you can't expect people to go over and find the towels, unfold them, etc. When they see them on the chairs they'll know what to do, maybe give them a shake, inspect for uh, stuff that the birds have dropped (in which case the towel has to be turned over), and sit down in comfort. • Keep them clean. I may have mentioned tha

Yes, cannas grow great in Phoenix. Although most of them seem to look their best at the garden center and then just end up looking kind'a ratty in the garden. If yours looks kind'a ratty, don't despair. It just takes a few tricks. Here is what I've learned in the past few years: • Plant them where they get as much shade, and water, as possible. Mine are planted near the house, where they get afternoon shade, and in an area that used to be so boggy that when I had grass there, it was a mess. Don't worry about over-watering cannas, you won't - they're practically water plants. • Plant them in rich soil. Dig out the native soil, move it elsewhere, and fill with generous amounts of potting soil. Get the good stuff. Mix in as many bags of coffee grounds as you can get from your local Starbucks (it's free, just ask). My cannas have been in the ground for several years now, and the soil has that one thing that tells you that the soil is rich: worms. •

If you're new to Phoenix, even though you may have heard that it gets hot, and think that you're prepared for it, you may be in for a real surprise. It gets REALLY HOT in Phoenix. I've lived through over twenty of those summers, and believe me, it never gets any easier. But don't despair. My backyard in Glendale, which is a suburb of Phoenix, is proof that you don't have to just grow cactus and rocks. But there are a few tricks I've learned over the years, and here are a few: • Shade. Shade, shade, shade, shade. When it's over 100 degrees, there's nothing *cheerful* about sunshine. If your backyard faces east, like mine, that's the best. If not, you have to figure out a way to get shade from that nasty western sun. Even the morning sun can be hot, so see if you can add more shade, like with trees. Did I mention how important shade is? • Automatic watering system. I have a simple system that runs on batteries that waters the garden regularly

The Tropical Paradise has a lot of lizards. They're called Common Western Wall Lizards. You know, the kind that climb on the walls and do push-ups in the sun. But I call them geckos, because my dog, who loves to hunt after them, wants me to. And also, in my defense, I would like to point out that my brother Roger Hall, who is quite the authority on this kind of stuff, has given me his OK on this. Normally, he is very particular about the names of animals, as I am about plants. He has a pretty cool website, by the way, if you like animals. I like having the lizards around. They eat bugs, and besides, they're just kind'a cool to see. I put up some plastic ones, just as a goof, and I hope it makes them feel welcomed. And just to clarify, my dog, a dachshund, though she does a lot of hunting, rarely catches them. The walls here are six feet high, and her legs are about two inches long. She is on the lookout, night and day. And if you shout *geckos!*, she goes running ou

I love Southern California. From San Diego to Santa Barbara, I get back there as often as I can. And though I live in the Phoenix area now, Southern California is where I learned about creating beautiful, low water-use gardens. That's because Southern California is a dry climate. Southern California has been transformed so much over the past 150 years that I really can't blame people if they don't see a dry climate. Money, and water, has poured in so consistently that there are very, very few places that actually look the way that they did when Southern California was New Spain, from the 1500s to the 1800s. You know, the days of Zorro in old Los Angeles ! So if you live in Southern California and are suddenly discovering that your water-wasteful garden is suffering, don't despair. Here's a trick - wander over to Phoenix and take a look. Yeah, it's a LOT hotter in Phoenix, and dryer. And so we realize that we are in a dry climate. Even poolside, surrou

Everyone knows that you shouldn't step into someone's garden, the same way that they know not to stroll across someone's dining room table. Well, actually, they don't. Over the years my friends have learned that I'm more than just a little cranky if I see them stepping into my garden, where there are small plants growing, watering heads that can get accidentally kicked, and that sort of thing. I'm not gonna put a yellow tape around it, or signs that say *keep out*, but I am constantly refining the subtle visuals that say, without words, *don't step here*. The first thing I've done is to create an obvious path with flagstones. Most people will just instinctively stay where it's flat and dry. I've been to gardens where I really don't know where to stand, and it just makes me nervous. If you haven't designed a place for visitors, you have made a mistake, and shouldn't blame them if they walk in places where only the gardener should

Summer is a great time to be outdoors, even in Phoenix. Of course, it does get VERY hot, so there are a few tricks that I've discovered over the years. • Shade. Nothing is more important than shade. When I bought my house, I insisted that the backyard would be on the east side. That way, the house itself shades the yard, and the later in the afternoon it gets, the more shade there is. So I have a shady house and two nice shady trees. • Furniture that moves. Since the sun moves, shade moves, too. So I have lightweight aluminum and plastic furniture that I can easily move. It's inexpensive, and I buy new ones every few years. The turf, by the way, is artificial. • Cover up metal. I use towels, and those pool noodles, to cover up any exposed metal parts on my furniture. Even when it's not particularly hot, that Arizona sun really heats up metal, and it can hurt! Cover it up. I also go get new beach towels every few years. So there you go, as you can see from the p