Landscape Tour Essay Contest Winners

1^st Prize – Melissa A.

Drip. Drip. Drip. No, I am not talking about a Chinese water torture. I am talking about a lingering visual that keeps trickling in my mind since the recent MBCA Landscape Tour. Let me explain. You see, I was once a proud owner of a green grassy back yard…in a high desert like micro-climate in Aliso Viejo. Bad planning on my part, I know.  The lawn was a real water guzzler, but a necessary playground for my kids, or so I thought. Then the kids grew up, and so did I.

I finally got wise and brave enough to let the grass die off and the sprinklers retire. Good news was I was able to conserve a lot of water. Bad news thanks to my frequent watering habits, the drought tolerant trees surrounding the grass had developed shallow roots during our 21 years in the house and now started to die as a result.  Just as unpleasant was the embarrassment I experienced when friends came over and saw my un-landscaped backyard. My dilemma was what to do to add water-wise life and color to the yard, without spending an arm and a leg and regressing to a high water consumption cycle.

Fast forward to April 17, 2011. Palm Sunday for some, epiphany Sunday for me. On that MBCA tour I had some real ah-ha’s about transforming my yard. Large, brightly colored pots with drought tolerant grasses could add height, softness and color. One large “sculpture” (a frugal junk yard metal remnant) could be a Steven Rieman-like focal point that could help minimize my neighbor’s view into our yard. I could plant rocks in the driest areas and provide shade for hardy low flowers. Meandering pathways and planting beds covered in mulch could provide soft footing, visual interest and natural insulation for trees and plants such as Crepe Myrtle, Cleveland Sage and Brittlebush. A simple arbor with vines could create much needed shade. And perhaps most all, I witnessed extensive use of drip irrigation that could minimize the water appetite of my Carolina Cherries, and encourage deep root growth, once and for all.

I can see it now…a welcoming garden of outdoor rooms with a quiet, peaceful mantra, “Drip, baby, drip.”  

Tied for 2^nd Prize – Mike Lipsitz

When initially approached about including our property on the Desert-Wise Landscape Tour I felt dizzy; my thoughts began to swirl ...

_         My higher power has revealed the reason for pulling all that Sahara Mustard.

_         This might be the break we’ve been counting on to restore the lost equity in our home.

_         At last, richly deserved recognition for cutting water use and saving the environment for future generations ... water, water, water.

My partner Phu recognized the signs of dehydration and handed me a tall glass of cold, damp water.  Satisfied with my recuperation, Phu remarked that if this property was to be on the Tour, we should review our conservation measures and make needed adjustments.

“What’s to adjust?” I asked. “We have cactus where roses once grew; we mulched around the shrubs last year; the irrigation system runs for 10 minutes every other day. And after spreading a layer of pea gravel around the house, we don’t need to hose the dust off everything each week.”

“Alright,” said Phu. “Imagine it’s Tour day and we’ve come to see the property.”

Knowing it was uselessness to resistance, we set off. Phu drew my attention to the irrigation sprinkler head that’s leaked for months. He pointed out that gusty winds had blown a lot of mulch away. He noted many of the basins I’d dug around each plant to retain irrigation water had been breached, silted up, or were never completed. At the irrigation station he suggested the watering time be changed from 8:AM to 8:PM or later each spring because watering at night reduces evaporation loss. 

The list goes on, but the point was clear: To maximize conservation, periodic evaluations are essential.  We’re grateful that this year’s Desert-Wise Landscape Tour opened up the conversation; we intend to add routine evaluations to our efforts to minimize water use.

Tied for 2^nd Prize – Curt Duffy

View from a Clone

         My name is Larry Tridenta. I’m a creosote bush. I’ve lived here, in this sunny desert basin, for thousands of years. When I was young, only a few two-leggers would come around. They might take a few of my branches or pick a few of my flowers, but they’d pretty much leave me and my friends alone.

      A few hundred years ago, even more two-leggers came around, and this time they were on four-legged beasts. At first these new two-leggers only killed one or two of my friends to make room for small shelters and paths, but then they started killing us by the dozens. Eventually, they conjured up large motorized monsters to uproot us acres at a time. Somehow, I’ve managed to escape their wrath and have survived in plain sight of one of their structures. One of their hardened paths actually diverted even more of the infrequent rains my way, and I’ve thrived while my companions have often suffered grisly deaths.

         Today, a most unusual thing happened.  Two-leggers, sometimes alone and sometimes in small groups, came walking up to me. They looked at me with wonder and marveled aloud about my age. A small two-legger, maybe not even a third my height, even brushed my lower branches and sniffed at my aromatic leaves.

         The larger two-leggers often engaged in communication—which, inexplicably, seemed to be focused on how to survive on this planet. I listened intently as they mused: “They live for thousands of years?” “They require little water?” “Where can we get one?”

         I really don’t get these two-leggers. But then again, they live for at most about one hundred and twenty years, and there is only so much wisdom you can acquire in that short time frame.       

Honorable Mention – T. C. Nexus

Getting My Thumbs On in the Desert

I am no green thumb. Or brown thumb for that matter (would one call a desert green thumb a brown thumb or does that reveal some form of naïveté about the ways of desert gardening?). Call me guilty. I’m all thumbs when it comes to growing anything. Which is why I went on the Desert-Wise Landscape Tour on Sunday, April 17—to get a clue. Is there such a thing as lush in the desert?

My wife and I love the high desert and have fallen head over heels for the hidden life off the 62, particularly the Pioneertown area. We retreat from coastal Orange County to drink in the wild landscapes and immerse in the stillness of this place. Okay, I admit, that the drinking-in part also includes a few pints at Pappy and Harriet’s.

We had no idea what to expect on the tour. When we were planning the day, with twenty homes to choose from, we thought an ambitious agenda would be to tour six homes. Of course we were in our city-efficient mode. Get in, check it out, move on. But, the tour had its own natural rhythm, and as we soon learned taking a tour of these properties meant talking story with property owners whose own narrative included not only landscape planting scenarios but scenarios of how their lives had taken root in the desert.

We started out at a home on an 80-acre plot of land that was ravaged by the Sawtooth Complex fire in 2006.  The home, an iconoclastic masterpiece pre-fire, burned to the ground, along with the surrounding pristine wild landscape. Nearly five years later the structure has been lovingly rebuilt, and the landscaped restored—mature trees transplanted—with all the caring to detail that a museum conservator would put into restoring a damaged painting. Although I know the landscape will take generations to fully restore itself, to the untrained city eye and from talking to the owners and docent on the property, we drove away from this location feeling that there was a sense of healing on the property. The epiphany—had the landscape not been restored, this newly minted house would have floated untethered, an architectural alien in the desert.

We ended the day at the desert landscape Shangri-La of Robin Kobaly (botanist, wildlife biologist and natural history interpreter) and Doug Thompson (writer, ecologist, naturalist). This small property defines the possibilities of lush in the desert with what seems to be every species of plant this “wasteland” has to offer. We were privileged to walk the property with Robin. If I had recorded her tour, I could play back for you the names of the plants and their stories. How Native Americans used them for food and medicine. The smells. The tastes. Her love of plants, and deep knowledge of the biology of the desert made it apparent why this tour is called Desert-Wise Living. Surrender to the wisdom of the desert.

We drove back to the OC once marveling at the energy that was put into staging the Desert-Wise Landscape tour—the dedication of the team that put it together and the homeowners who opened their homes and spent the day talking plants, and roots, and about making and sustaining a life in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Thank you.

Honorable Mention – Sandy and Dave Williams

Dave and I participated in the first Desert-Wise Living Landscape Tour on April 17, 2011 and found it to be one of the best experiences we have had in this high desert in a very long time.  The tour was very well organized, with concise maps and very good signage.  The individual environments were diverse, and interesting along with each docent/homeowner graciously getting each visitor with education, history, a bottle of water or just a friendly welcome.

We learned much more about our desert home and how we can better take care and enjoy our unique environment and I have lived in Yucca Valley for 54 years, Dave for 60+.  Conserving water, protecting our ancient species, spreading seeds on our burn areas allows an excellent opportunity to enjoy beautiful environments now and for future generations.

We came away from each experience anticipating what we would find at the next address and were never disappointed.  We would have gone again the next day to further the experience, however for a first time event we applaud the hard work and dedication of everyone who worked so hard to do such a marvelous job.

Thank you MBCA, great job.