Remarkably, at Puddock Hill, where we have 16 acres, most of which I consider bird-friendly habitat, we rarely hear the call of an owl, whereas in the Coachella Valley desert, where our modest yard would best be described as California suburban, we often hear one.
I’m being a bit coy about that discrepancy. Just over the wall from our desert house is a golf course with many mature trees—nearby perhaps black cottonwoods (Populus balsamifera ssp. trichocarpa), which are native to the west but would certainly not be growing in the midst of a blow desert without the irrigation that supports large expanses of turf grass.
I wrote recently of the lessons I’ve learned from a few years pursuing backyard stewardship, and one point that hit a chord with folks was giving up being a native purist. It’s easier holding oneself to a lower standard, of course, but it can also sometimes be necesssary.
The garden at our Southwestern desert house was an unattractive hodgepodge consisting mostly of overgrown and failing exotics squeezed between several small patio pads, a pool and a free-standing in-ground spa. Toward the rear lay a sinuous path defined by large rocks that did not suit our vision for modernizing the house.
My first instinct was to pull everything up and xeriscape with natives of the Sonoran desert, but this concept immediately ran into a few problems. First, because the house stands on a small lot surrounded by walls, at least half the area features something so rare in a natural blow desert that nothing native will tolerate it: SHADE. Second, few desert plants grow lushly enough to hide stark walls. Third, most, though not all, natives are slow growers.
One can avoid some of these challenges by leaning into hardscape—especially, for a more natural look, gravel and boulders, which are plentiful in nearby hills. But, let’s face it, too much of that inside a wall and the place looks like a prison yard.
I came up with a plan that involved removing unattractive non-native plants, re-using the large rocks to create straight paths and beds, adding as many natives as practicable, and using gravel and rock mulch to tie it all together. (By the way, sand, the major feature of a blow desert, is not a good choice in one’s yard for the very reason that it goes airborne on windy days, which are a common phenomenon in the Coachella Valley.)
Central to my conception was the conceit of having the garden move from more civilized on the street side to more wild in back, where our wall borders the golf course referenced above.
Last year, we removed several fruit trees—lemon, orange, kumquat—that had passed their prime. The kumquat was the only tree producing a good amount of fruit, but they’re not our favorite to eat and most of them ended up littering the ground. We replaced these trees with three native blue palo verde trees (Parkinsonia florida), one seen in the foreground here (the golf course is to the left):
We left a volunteer California fan palm (Washingtonia filifera). It’s one of the signature natives of the desert and will soon clear the roof line of the house on its way to growing 75 feet tall.
Past the palm tree grows a jade plant native to South Africa. It’s so happy that it exceeds what is said to be the maximum height of a jade plant by four feet. Or maybe it’s not a jade plant, but it’s most definitely not native. Interestingly, the trunk is half dead, but it thrives in any case, this imperfection making it that much more beautiful and worthy of remaining unmolested. Wabi-sabi.
Past that is a mature tree I haven’t yet identified. Since it was limbed up years ago and we wanted to disrupt a view of nearby buildings, this year I planted behind it a native desert willow (Chilopsis linearis).
In the background stands an old olive, of course not native to the Sonoran desert. This one is a cultivar that doesn’t fruit, more appropriate to a tight garden. Not visible in the picture, we also kept a second old olive and a flourishing grapefruit tree.
Looking back from the pool toward the golf course, here’s what we did on the side of the house:
We removed the in-ground spa and another patio pad, as well as a number of lantana shrubs and some other overgrown exotic shrubs that grew along the house wall. We did leave a bird of paradise (native to Indonesia), a lantana (native to somewhere in the Americas but certainly not the Sonoran desert), and an Indian hawthorn shrub (native to Asia).
We added an iron arbor to demarcate the “wild” back from the more organized side yard. Under the olive tree in the corner I planted native skeleton milkweed (Asclepias subulata). The vine on the arbor is Baja passion vine (Passiflora foetida longipedunculata), native to nearby Mexico but not this part of the desert.
Alongside the house we planted natives brittlebush (Encelia farinosa), which grows in profusion in nearby hills, and jojoba (Simmondsiaceae). We moved four desert sage plants (Salvia dorrii) that were failing to thrive in pots to the open ground.
On the north-facing wall, seen to the right, we pulled out a messy, uneven hedge of mixed exotics and planted ficus, native to Asia and the Mediterranean, which when irrigated (as everything is) grows well here in a range of light conditions.
Finally, we transplanted a number of native barrel cactus and aloe plants, native to north Africa, using them to fill in a sparse bed by the pool:
Last year, on the other side of the pool in direct sun, we planted native chuparosa (Justicia californica), a favorite of hummingbirds. This year, nearby, we planted native beavertail pricklypear cactus (Opuntia basilaris).
In addition to supporting birds directly with nesting sites and fruit, here’s what our efforts on this small plot of land contribute to the arthropods that sustain our natural world:
Blue palo verde hosts the Forsebia moth, the Black-tipped rudentia moth, the Juno buckmoth, and the Darter moth.
California fan palm hosts the Palm flower moth.
Desert willow hosts the Rustic sphinx moth and the Wavy-lined emerald moth.
Skeleton milkweed hosts the Western monarch butterfly, the Queen butterfly, the Clio tiger moth, and Euchaetes aella, another species of moth.
Brittlebush hosts the Fatal metalmark butterfly, the Orange tortrix moth, and the Dwarf tawny wave moth.
Jojoba hosts the Hemileuca electra moth, the American dry plant moth, and Epinotia kasloana, another moth.
Beavertail pricklypear cactus likely hosts moths of the following species: Dyotopasta yumaella, Pseudoschinia elautalis, Laetilia dilatifasciella, and Dicymolomia opuntialis.
For our efforts, we now have a garden that is well-balanced between conventional beauty and wildlife support.
As awareness grows that lawns and tropical plants in deserts of the Southwest are unsustainable, gardeners, often pushed by the water companies, are increasingly turning to xeriscaping. If a substantial portion of these efforts can go toward deploying natives, it would help address not only water scarcity but also restoration of native ecology.
That’s worth hooting for.
We planted a camellia in almost full shade…the rare water hog in our desert garden. Its flowers began to open this week: