This and that (early December 2025)

The Central Valley has been shrouded by a 400-mile blanket of radiation fog for going on two weeks now, resulting in dreary gray days with temperatures stuck in the 40s.

As the website IFL Science explains, radiation fog is a “type of fog that’s most common when things get chilly in the fall and winter. It develops on clear, calm nights when the ground cools rapidly, chilling the air just above it. Once that air reaches saturation, moisture condenses into millions of tiny droplets, creating a thick mist that hangs in the air.”

The current forecast suggests that conditions won’t change much this week either. I’m not happy about it, and neither are the winter-growing plants in my garden, above all the aloes. Without sun, they just sit around sulking instead of pushing out flowers.

But there’s nothing I or anybody else can do. Grumbling about it helps me feel better, at least a little, but ultimately, I need to be patient until the sun returns. Even though it seems like it never will.

This post is the perfect manifestation of my sun-starved, frazzled brain. A bit all over the place, a bit about this, and a bit about that. But hopefully you’ll find a nugget or two of interest.

Aloe lukeana

The one thing that cheers me up in the winter (and I use the term “winter” loosely, to mean from now until February) are aloe flowers. Most of my aloes are still weeks away from flowering, but Aloe lukeana is in full glory. This species from Uganda has among the prettiest flowers in the genus. I have two of them, and the bigger one is almost as tall as I am now.

Aloe lukeana flowers

A few other early bloomers:

Aloe suprafoliata, note the super tall narrow racemes

Aloe petrophila with its candy-striped flowers

Aloe scobinifolia flower with colors ranging from shades of yellow to orange, red, and green

Aloe fosteri with particularly tall racemes on the UC Davis campus

Aloe littoralis, spectacular and criminally underused

Aloe littoralis

Looking for new aloe flowers is a part of my daily routine at this time of year. I know, it’s a bit obsessive, but some of you (you know who you are) can relate:

Aloe ‘Erik the Red’, still a baby, but getting ready to flower for the first time

Aloe humilis × claviflora, a hybrid made by my friend Justin, also about to flower for the first time

A couple other aloes to demonstrate that the leaves can be as ornamental as the flowers:

Aloe tauri

Aloe distans

Like aloes, many South African bulbs flower in the winter through early spring. Here are just two in my garden:

Lachenalia punctata

Massonia pustulata, just getting started

One of the most striking South African bulbs is Oxalis palmifrons. I planted about a dozen of them, but they’re still too young to look like this.

Oxalis palmifrons

You have to be a real plant nerd (or slightly crazy) to be excited by the sight of two grass-like blades of leaves emerging from the soil:

Gladiolus tristis doesn’t look like much at this stage. But the flowers are really cool.

Random sighting outside the UC Davis Botanical Conservatory:

Epiphyllum escaping through gaps behind the sliding doors. With temperatures in the low 40s at night, I bet it wishes it hadn’t strayed outside and gotten stuck in the cold.

Random sighting down the street:

Are they rehearsing for a remake of Hitchcock’s The Birds?

A bit of trivia: Did you know that Hollywood was named after the California holly (aka toyon) found in abundance in the area? That’s the story I’m sticking to, even though some people claim to know better.

California holly or toyon (Heteromeles arbutifolia), the typical form with red berries on the left, the ‘Davis Gold’ form with yellow berries on the right. ‘Davis Gold’ was originally discovered on the UC Davis campus, so it’s about as local to me as it gets. I took the photo above near the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery.

In the not-all-is-well department — or, if it’s not one thing, then it’s another:

Agave potatorum ‘Cherry Swizzle’ with rotting leaves. The plant itself, and the central cone, are still perfectly firm. I’m hoping it’s just a few leaves, and the rot will stop on its own. If that’s the case, the agave will outgrow the damage.

In spite of this, it’s not all gloom and doom in agaveland. Here are a few happy pics to make up for the sad one above:

Agave nickelsiae

Agave pintilla

Agave × leopoldii

Even though night-time lows have generally stayed in the low 40’s, I’m trying to be proactive. I’ve moved a few things into the greenhouse, primarily to prevent cosmetic damage. I don’t want unsightly black spots from surface frost if I can help it.

Just because it’s nippy outside doesn’t mean that all yard work has stopped. A couple of days ago I removed these two clumps of ripple jade (Crassula arborescens ssp. undulatifolia) in the sidewalk bed:

Before

I’m very glad I did this. The remaining plants (esp. the Aloe wickensii in the center of the photo) have room to breathe now. I ended with a couple of dozen jade cuttings. I’ll keep half and bring the rest to the next meeting of the Sacramento Cactus and Succulent Society.

I didn’t have enough rocks to complete the border in the spot where the jade was, so I will need to make a rock yard run this week.

And after

Remember the squirrel nibbling on my succulents in the backyard? The leaves are (mostly) gone, and the stems apparently aren’t tasty enough:

Stella might be the smartest of us all. Instead of complaining about the weather, she quietly curls up on the couch under a warm blanket. Granted, the blanket is provided by one of her human domestics, but still...

© Gerhard Bock, 2025. All rights reserved. To receive all new posts by email, please subscribe here.