Fairy Wand
Every year this plant being spreads its arms wider and wider, taking up almost the whole patio. My entrance door is protected :) Visitors have to pay attention now, figure out how to weave their way through long spiky leaves, four feet high. Some of Fairy Wand’s flowering stalks are reaching into the sky towering at seven or eight feet. Everyone asks for the plant’s name, all admire her. Over time her fuchsia bells unfold their skirts for all kind of bees, including big bumble bees and humming birds. Then the seed pods start to form slowly, hanging, dangling, dancing in the breeze. She gives a long-lasting show, her stages of transformation are manifold. This is what I admire about Fairy Wand. Carefully studying her every day gives lessons about the process of maturing, shapeshifting. Every summer this time, I can’t resist to write about her, she spreads so much delight.
So, when friends arrive, they can’t ignore Fairy Wand. They must find their way through her jungle of bouncing stalks, bells, seeds and bees, in order to get to my backyard which is a new garden experience without Mama Oak. The Cork Oak now the absolute star, no doubt. Everyone asks about her bark and is astonished to hear that this is the real cork used for champagne and wine bottle stoppers (not anymore that much), and flooring. Originally, I was told they are native to Australia, not so. Cork Oaks are wide spread and cultivated in Southwestern Europe (Spain and Portugal foremost). They are slow growing, drought resistant, recovering well after fires, and can get over 200 years old. They are rare in the Bay Area. My Mama Cork Oak is a giant by now. Incredibly beautiful to behold, she hosts a big hawk each afternoon – in the most upper branches with superb bay view. And of course, I am curious how she and the other Live Oaks will adapt, change forms, unfold and make new alliances. Weathering storms, floods, droughts and increasing extremes, we need these allies.
Hi Karina, I'm reminded of the times on my walks, coming down Euclid and noticing as I passed by that beautiful open view of the bay just past your house, a hawk gliding on the drafts of air. Does my heart good to think that your Mama Cork Oak may have been its home base.
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