On a tour of secret gardens in Santa Fe, New Mexico, Kathryn and I peek behind adobe walls for tantalizing glimpses of hidden treasures. Organized by the Santa Fe Botanical Gardens, the tour provides access to several small urban gardens not normally visible to passersby.

A beautifully sophisticated yet rustic fence made of reddish twigs defines the boundary between the garden and the natural environment beyond. This very low maintenance garden, features a beautiful mix of native and exotic plant materials all well adapted to local climate conditions and low rainfall. This is a xeriscape garden. Many people think that a xeriscape consists of a cactus and a couple of rocks surrounded by gravel. Obviously, a xeriscape can be much more than that.

In the beautifully designed private garden of the Richardson home an aesthetically appealing yet functional patio provides a transition between home and garden. This garden places all higher maintenance plantings needing supplemental water within the privacy of the backyard. Kathryn and I designed this garden several years ago.

A Montmorency pie cherry tree and a dwarf peach tree provide fresh fruit in season. The fruit trees are adjacent to the patio in the photo above.

The Richardson home also features a small section of the backyard garden devoted to vegetables such as tomatoes and chili peppers. Blue Penstemon strictus, and yellow Aquilegia chrysantha (yellow columbine) are native wildflowers mixed in with the vegetables.

In the front yard of the Richardson home we see a water conserving xeriscape of native wildflowers, shrubs, and succulents in dramatic contrast to the lush greenness of the private backyard. This portion of the garden faces south and is exposed to the intense heat of full desert sun. The function of the dry streambed is to direct and control excess rainwater from summer thunderstorms.

One aspect of gardening in the high desert of New Mexico is that most of the rainfall occurs during the “monsoon season” in the summertime. Snow in winter also provides some water, but most of the water arrives in torrential summer thunderstorms. All the precipitation (snow, hail, rain) that runs off the roof of the house is captured by downspouts and fed into cisterns which store the water in this garden. An extensive drip-trickle system distributes the water to organically grown vegetables.

Another water management technique is the sunken garden shown here. The rainwater and snowmelt which runs off of impervious surfaces such as the roof of the house is directed into these pit gardens which are sunken well below grade. A Russian olive tree rooted in the bottom of the pit shades the garden and provides a moist, shady microclimate for the plants surrounding it.

This adobe wall and dramatic blue gate provide access to a small urban garden featuring permeable paving using flagstones and creeping thyme. Permeable paving allows precipitation to percolate into groundwater without being shunted off into municipal stormwater drainage systems.

As many of you may realize by now, while David and I are avid gardeners, our passion is the gateway to nature that the garden provides. As we arrive in New Mexico, so does spring, with all its chaotic and unpredictable weather. Red buds bloom along with plums, lilacs, and cottonwood. And then it snows, and gardeners and farmers worry about their incipient apricots, cherries, and apples.

As I look out the window, reluctant to venture out into the chilly morning, I muse about the birds that flit among the branches of street trees. Barely visible as they industriously seek their morning fare, I wonder how the birds passed the cold night. Have they built nests and laid eggs yet?  My mind meanders to thoughts of Birds and Their Trees.

It seems to me that birds have a very intimate relationship with trees. Trees provide home, security, and often, food. As we travel down the west coast on our book tour, we encounter cormorants nesting in Monterey Cypress (Cupressus macrocarpa) at Pismo Beach on the California Coast. In all the years I have watched cormorants carrying on – in Baja California, in the Pacific Northwest, in Alta California, and even in the bosque along the Rio Grande – I have never seen a nesting colony. We are enchanted. I enjoy the irony that the birds have chosen a semi-urban setting to raise their babies.

In Arizona, as we make our way toward New Mexico, we stop for a late picnic. In the quiet, not too far from the less-traveled blue highway, birds rustle the grasses. We hold still, wondering what might appear. A flicker of brown wings. I slowly raise my binoculars, while David brings his camera to his eye. A bird bursts from the grass and alights in a cholla cactus (Opuntia sp). We are well-acquainted with this bird – a cactus wren – whose life revolves around the sustenance that the cactus provides.

When we cross the border into New Mexico, we are enveloped by an oak-pine forest. Taking a short hike off the road we stop to enjoy the peace of an oak woodland (Quercus emoryi). The leaves twitch with life, but we are not sure what we’ve seen. A flash of blueish gray. A beady eye. A flutter of wings as the bird lands to get a better look at us. This Mexican Jay proves to be a people watcher. Perhaps others have shared their picnic with him. I snap his picture before he tires of us. What is his relationship with the oak? I am sure the Jay loves its acorns. Does he nest among its leafy branches as well?

We pass through the Gila National Forest and we stop at a favorite birding spot. I hear sounds that I recognize. I slice an orange and lay pieces of it on a white-washed stone wall near the trail. We step back into the dense copse. I hold the camera to one eye and watch the forest with the other. We don’t wait long. Our reward for quiet patience arrives. Warily, the Gila Woodpecker approaches the orange slices. He is vigilant in case this is a trap. I snap his picture and he hears the shutter. He pecks the orange slice, and then disappears into the forest. What bird has a more intimate relationship with trees than a woodpecker?

Trees form the backbone of our gardens. They provide the skeletal structure, and these bones invite wildlife to visit. These wild creatures provide invaluable services. Birds, for instance, provide insect control and fertilizer. And if we, in turn, offer shelter and food, we stand to make great gains.  We help create healthy habitat; we defragment the eco-system in which we reside, no matter where that is; and we heal our relationship with the natural world.

Do you have a story of trees or birds to share? We invite you to share your stories of the greenworld, and welcome you to join us at one of our stops on the road. See our events page for all the details. If you have a favorite spot we should not miss, please let us know.

Santa Barbara, California – a gardener’s paradise. While it may have heavy, clay soil, and little water, it has perfect temperatures for growing plants from all the “Mediterranean” climates of the world. The flora of South Africa, the west coasts of North and South America, Australia, and, of course, the Med itself make appearances here.

The Santa Barbara Botanic Garden displays the amazing diversity of flora native to California. The collection reaches into every corner of the state. Grasses, cacti, succulents, wildflowers, trees, and shrubs make a home here. The staff welcomes us warmly when we arrive to teach a morning workshop. We set up in the library to deliver a PowerPoint presentation followed by a hands-on diagnostic session. Some students have brought sick plants from home (contained in plastic bags to help prevent accidental introduction of pests or diseases into the botanic garden collection), and together we use the flow charts in our book to diagnose a wide variety of plant problems.

At the Book Loft in Solvang we enjoy an afternoon in the sun, signing books and diagnosing plant problems for the bookstore’s customers and passersby who are visiting the Danish village in the foothill. At Chaucer’s, a busy bookstore in Santa Barbara, we meet some avid, well-informed gardeners. Their enthusiasm for What’s Wrong with My Plant? is truly encouraging.

We explore shady trails through a forest of tree ferns in Lotusland, a botanical treasure featuring plants from all over the world. Madame Ganna Walska created this private garden on the estate she owned from 1941 until her death in 1984.

Lotusland features an amazing array of plants adapted to very dry environments. A large collection of succulent species of Aloe is featured in the photo above. Some people mistakenly call these plants cactuses. But they’re not cacti at all. Formerly included in the lily family, the Liliaceae, the aloes are now sometimes placed in a family of their own, the Aloaceae, or Asphodelaceae. Many of these plants have thick succulent leaves with a tremendous capacity for water storage.

Cacti have fleshy, water storing stems, and do not have leaves. Many have pretty flowers in bright colors. Cacti are placed in their own family, the Cactaceae, and are only found in the Americas. Most species are true desert plants and highly specialized for extremely arid conditions. Some are epiphytes, however, that grow on rainforest trees in the same manner as orchids and bromeliads.

Plants from desert regions of Africa and Asia that resemble cacti are in the family Euphorbiaceae. Although these plants superficially resemble cacti, their flowers have a completely different structure than those of the cacti.

If you have a favorite spot we should not miss, please let us know. We invite you to share your stories of the greenworld, and welcome you to join us at one of our stops on the road. See our events page for all the details.