Across the Pond

Showing off in pinks: magnolia tree at the Huntington Gardens Roses, camellias, cacti; sages, jacarandas, and palm trees: last week a friend invited me to spend an afternoon at the  Huntington Library, Art Collections and Botanical Gardens  in San Marino, an affluent suburb of L.A. The Huntington boasts more than 14,000 varieties of plants in 14 principal garden areas and one section or another is always at its best. Right now the magnolias and parts of the cactus garden are showing off in oranges, reds and pinks. Natural habitat, home base: cactus garden As my companion and I were wandering down through the desert garden, into the Australian garden, and, later, through the Chinese garden it struck me how the Huntington is a mirror for life in Los Angeles. Botanical sections adjoin and sometimes blend into each other the way neighborhoods in L.A. do. To the immigrant from Europe some parts of the Huntington such as the Asian areas and the jungle see...

White on white, hard to capture: iceberg roses Mid January, and we just cut the last roses: Icebergs, a burst of fullness but serene and still, white on white, hard to capture in a photograph. Years ago, when I was in high school in Innsbruck, my good friend L. used to give me the last roses from her mother's garden. It was an annual ritual I looked forward to, always reserved for the end of October. Unlike mine, L.'s roses came in colors - red, yellow, a washed out orange. Their stems were  often scraggly, the leaves a little smaller than they might have been two months before, at the height of summer. The memory of the recurring gift includes that of the giver: L.'s green eyes, quick and sharp, the big yet humble smile as she passes the bouquet, three or four flowers, thorny, wrapped in aluminum foil and a damp paper towel. L. was the smartest in our class, an honor student through all grades. After graduation she enrolled in vocational school, to be trained as...

Coast Live Oaks in L.A. Trees. I have a thing for trees. The chestnuts in Central Europe and the fir trees of the Alps are among my favorites as are the oaks in California. No matter which kind, there is something about trees that makes me feel grounded, something that connects me to a before and to an after; trees signify dignity, endurance, patience; they stand for adaptability and integrity at the same time, for a balance between the two. In the urban sprawl of L.A. trees sometimes have a hard time. The native oak trees are no exception which is why the County of L.A. chose to cover all oak species by the oak tree ordinance. With it oaks are recognized as "significant historical, aesthetic, and ecological resources" and as a unique but threatened plant heritage. The ordinance states that "a person shall not cut, destroy, remove, relocate, inflict damage, or encroach into the protected zone of any tree of the oak tree genus without first obtaining a permit"...

Finally. California's new governor, Jerry Brown, was expected to proclaim today that the drought which has officially plagued the Golden State since 2009 is over. This winter brought precipitation by the tub full: record breaking rain fall in December, plenty more rain in March, 50 feet of snow in parts of the High Sierra. Bottom line we got about 50 percent more precipitation than in an average year. Looking out a restaurant window in Mammoth on March 18 This is great news of course - though we in L.A. should never see ourselves as off the hook. Southern California is a desert. The water that we use here always comes from somewhere else, be it the Colorado River or the High Sierra, and if the drought had an up-side it was that many of us became aware of this. Angelenos aren't - and probably never will be - saints when it comes to environmentalism but as I have said before, we try and there is one L.A. characteristic that works in our favor whenever change is needed: we...

When it comes to environmentalism we Angelenos are not exactly known to be heavily invested. Quite the opposite. L.A. is synonymous with cars and freeways and too many miles driven - and that's just one aspect. The other day I was leafing through this month's issue of Whole Living magazine  when a reader's suggestion caught my eye: Etienne L. is telling us that he has started to collect "all the dregs" in his family of four's water glasses "to take care of the house plants". Etienne simply empties "the last drips into a pitcher instead of pouring them down the drain". He thereby saves "enough water for (his) indoor plants and potted herb garden". Now that's what I call commitment. Dregs for plants. Etienne is from San Francisco of course (Oakland, to be precise). We in L.A. could never pull that one off - but it's not like we don't try to be green. At least some of us. Take an enterprise called Arroyo Food Co-op i...

They say there are no seasons in L.A... (See my earlier post Fall in December  for more on this.) Well, it's spring. The orange tree in our back yard is showing off blossoms and fruit at the same time, and nights are filled with the heavy, sweet fragrance of citrus trees. The other day I found some snowdrops in our front yard. Bright green and robust they have popped up out of nowhere, made their way through a thick layer of mulch. One of the previous house owners must have planted them years ago.

Sunday, while Hollywood was getting ready for its big night, with Oscars, red carpet, and gowns, we travelled to the mountains to enjoy the snow. We loaded the skis onto the Jeep and headed for our favorite local ski resort, Mount Baldy. Here's what we found: I am sometimes reluctant to make the journey to Mount Baldy. Not that it's a long one by L.A. standards (45 minutes from our home to the parking lot) but - when it comes to skiing I am spoiled because I grew up on a mountain. Anyway, the view from the top is reward enough: the Mojave desert to the north, the Pacific to the south, and a checkerboard called Los Angeles county in between. Mount Baldy is one of those L.A. excursions that make me wonder how one place can have it all: the desert, the beaches, the mountains; surfing, skiing, hiking... Is it a surprise that the movie industry should have settled here? Images from top to bottom: palm trees against the San Gabriel Mountains ;  Lord's Candle, ...

The other day we stumbled upon a patch of California right in the middle of Vienna: California poppies grow in the botanical gardens of Belvedere Palace. Spotting the deep yellow flowers on their thin, bent stalks, I was reminded of how these plants cover vast expanses of desert in California in the spring. The California poppy, scientifically known as Eschscholzia californica, is the official flower of the state of California. It blooms from February to May in the wild. The best place to see it in L.A. is the Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve in the Mojave Desert. Images: California Poppies in Vienna in August and in the California Poppy Reserve in April 2005