I had another open garden (early March 2026)

On Saturday, I had an open garden for members of the Sacramento Cactus and Succulent Society (SCSS) and my volunteer group at the UC Davis Arboretum Teaching Nursery. The weather couldn’t have been better — afternoon temperatures in the mid-70s — and in spite of the unpleasant wind, a good time was had by all. At least that’s what I hope. And if people didn’t like the plants, they had my friend Michele’s insanely delicious brownies to fall back on. (Thank you, Michele, for all your help.)

The timing was perfect, too. Many aloes were at peak bloom — just what I had hoped for. I took a bunch of photos since the garden looked so tidy, so lean back and enjoy.

The far end of the sidewalk bed has never looked better. You can see the aloes from a block away!

Moroccan daisy (Rhodanthemum hosmariense), native to — you guessed it — Morocco. I’m always amazed by the sheer flower power of this otherwise unassuming perennial.

Two aloes dominate this corner: Aloe vaombe × spectabilis (right), and Aloe ‘Erik the Red’ (left)

Aloe vaombe × spectabilis

On the far right is the Aloe ‘Moonglow’ that fell over in January

No aloe has better flower color than ‘Erik the Red’

Aloe ‘Erik the Red’ is a complex hybrid from Leo Thamm’s breeding program at Sunbird Aloes in South Africa

The deep red flower color comes from Aloe mawii. Other gene contributors are A. petricola, A. marlothii (red form) and A. arborescens.

OK, one more photo of ‘Erik the Red’

This is a hybrid created by my friend John Becker, combining the deep red flower color of Aloe mawii with the elegant habit of Aloe vanbalenii

Aloe capitata var. quartziticola with its signature pom-pom flowers

Aloe capitata var. quartziticola

Not all aloes: Agave parryi flanked by Rhodanthemum hosmariense (left) and Thymophylla pentachaeta (right)

This hybrid of uncertain origin is the most floriferous aloe I’ve ever seen

It flowers almost constantly, only taking a break at the hottest time of the summer

I’ve waited for 11 years for this Aloe marlothii to flower for the first time, and I’m not disappointed

I was hoping for yellow flowers, and it looks like that’s what I got

Aloe ‘Superman’ (A. cameronii × white-flowering ferox) in front of a pretty much perfect Yucca linearifolia

The ‘White Linen’ California poppies...

...have kicked into high gear now that the days are sunny and warm

Felicia echinata rising above Agave mitis ‘Chocolate Edge’

Lachenalia quadricolor in front of Aloe labworana

Aloe ‘Erik Red and White’ (A. ‘Erik the Red’ × white-flowering A. ferox)

Aloe ‘Erik Red and White’

Aloe castanea flowering for the first time. I got it in a 2" pot at a UC Davis Botanical Conservatory sale in October 2017. Aloes often are a long-term investment.

Aloe ortholopha × spectabilis, a Nick Deinhart hybrid, also flowering for the first time

I love the flower color and the rakish angle of the racemes

Mangave ‘Bloodspot’ × Agave titanota, a mangave created by Nick Deinhart

My most recent purchase, frying pan poppies (Eschscholzia lobbii) native to the Central Valley. They’re significantly smaller than regular California poppies.

Rounding the corner of the L-shaped sidewalk bed

Opuntia sulphurea; its spines are almost papery, certainly much less dangerous than they look

Agave ovatifolia, Aloe marlothii ‘Utrecht’, and Grevillea ‘Scarlet Sprite’

Grevillea ‘Scarlet Sprite’ (right) in all its spring glory, with pearl bluebush (Maireana sedifolia) in the middle and ‘Ian Bush’ manzanita (Arctostaphylos ‘Ian Bush’) on the left

My species tulip experiment outlined in this post has been a success. OK, I should qualify that. It’s easy to get newly planted tulip bulbs to flower. Getting them to come back is another thing. But I’m cautiously optimistic for next year.

Tulipa ‘Lilac Wonder’ (T. bakeri ‘Lilac Wonder’)

Tulipa ‘Lilac Wonder’ in front of Boophone disticha

Tulipa ‘Little Princess’ (T. hageri × aucheriana)

Tulipa ‘Wild Blue Heart’ (T. humilis ‘Alba Coerulea Oculata’)

The small shrub in the next two photos doesn’t attract much attention most of the year, but when it’s in full flower, it sure is a pretty sight.

Guichenotia ledifolia, a small shrub in the mallow family from Western Australia. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem to have a common name.

Guichenotia ledifolia flowers

We’re almost at the driveway end of the L-shaped sidewalk bed.

Aloe excelsa, one of only a few aloes not in full flower yet

Arctotis ‘Pink Sugar’

A few photos of the rarely featured driveway bed:

Aloe ‘Maui Gem’ (A. mawii × globuligemma)

Aloe ‘Maui Gem’

Moving into the front garden:

View through the ponytail palms (Beaucarnea recurvata)

Cleistocactus strausii, with Leucadendron ‘Jester’ in the background

Euphorbia grandicornis-type hybrid

Agave desmetiana ‘Galactic Traveller’

Mangave ‘Whale Shark’

The last of this year’s Persian lime crop

Kitschy, I know, but I love these metal mariachi musicians

A duo of Lomandra ‘Platinum Beauty’ in Veradek Patina series planters (I first talked about these planters in this post)

Just one photo from the backyard. I’ll have more soon.

Stella enjoying the sun on her outdoor dog bed

The plant I was asked about the most at my open garden was not a succulent, but an Australian member of the protea family:

Banksia blechnifolia aka the Southern blechnum banksia

The foliage is stiff but fern-like, hence the species name (Blechnum is a genus of ferns, mostly from the neotropics)

Unlike most banksias, which are shrubs or trees, Banksia blechnifolia creeps along the ground, and its inflorescences seem to emerge from the soil

Banksia blechnifolia has proven to be bullet-proof in my garden, handling both heat and cold with aplomb. If you want one, like quite a few open garden visitors seemed to, you can get your own in a Big Fella pot from my friend Troy at Waltzing Matilija Nursery.

Lest you think this winter has been nothing but puppies and rainbows, far from it. The aloes made it through just fine, but I lost a lot of agaves and some cacti because of the long periods of Tule fog where everything was sopping wet for weeks on end. More on that in a future post.

When a cactus is squishy, you know something isn’t right

© Gerhard Bock, 2026. All rights reserved. To receive all new posts by email, please subscribe here.