Las Cruces is generally too far south this far west, and too far east this far south, to get surprised by wintry weather after some point in March, let alone snow.
Though there was April 1983’s 7 inch snowfall around Easter. But I was in high school then, far away in Denver, where it snows almost every April a few times!
With a persistent cool and unsettled pattern of a waning El Niño along the west coast, we even managed to stay a little cooler than usual. But after a few weeks of spring then winter, and back and forth (“sprinter”), it’s warming nicely here in the last half of April. Sprinter is over, it’s spring.
The plantings nearby and in town are responding.
Since this streetscape is a couple neighborhoods from my home and on the way to my hiking spot, I see at least a few sections of it each week. While bullet-proof planting and irrigation design is going into entropy due to a lack of any maintenance* savvy, there are still a number of places that still have appeal.
(*I was the landscape architect and primary designer on this years ago, and those plans included an entire sheet with clear maintenance graphics and scheduling by plant type, so…zero excuses)
Yucca faxoniana (Faxon or Palm Yucca) are at peak flowering, though over half have died in the last decade.
Some of the Blue Ranger (Leucophyllum zygophyllum ‘Cimarron’) shrubs were starting to flower, so given the year of drought it is likely proof this section of the drip irrigation line is functioning.
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Returning home after an energizing but brisk hike, I drove past two of the Las Estancias neighborhood entries. ‘Silver Sierra’ Texas Mountain Laurel (Dermatophyllum secundiflorum ‘Silver Sierra’) is ending it’s 2 week show of flower and fragrance.
And the exit onto Anthem Road, back from where I drove from home for my hike and these photos.
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At home on my patio, I enjoyed some shade and the cool breezes, with my own, future back garden area at home. Mostly native wildflowers and grasses have been volunteering into this spot for all 5+ years living here.
From warm, dry afternoon light, to nearly the same vantage point with also dry but chilled morning light.
Only the Agave weberi and hybrid Opuntia aren’t native. In the ground we have Giant Dropseed (Sporobolus gigantea), Fluffgrass (Dasychloa pulchella), and Desert Marigold (Baileya multiradiata) slowly multiplying, as they sway and dance in the daily breezes.
And within the week, I was able to spend a couple hours returning to looking at my design ideas here and throughout the property.
Our local Native Plant Society of New Mexico chapter has great outings in the Las Cruces area over the year.
With one of the higher plant species diversities in New Mexico, the base of the Organ Mountains was our meeting place, starting at the parking area on the west side for Soledad Canyon (or Bar Canyon).
Photos are from 1/13/2024.
Some of these resting spots beg me to ask why so many people and even some area nurseries lack the vision to grow more of the species that give our wild world its distinctiveness and power.
That’s what I call a sotol savanna because of their spacing, divided by native grasses – mostly Bouteloua curtipendula and B. gracilis. Others here instead call this a sotol forest, though even in the desert this isn’t dense or tall enough to be a forest!
These are bullet-proof staples in many landscape designs, including my projects since the 1990’s, in Albuquerque and beyond, and now down here.
The exclamation-point seed stalks against the shrubs and grasses, or even skies and rocky cliffs, imply possibilities that require so little of our inputs.
Now we come to my favorite plants with the most potential to create enclosure, shade, and powerful structure. Which are elusive or absent from most growers’ offerings of Bradford pears, Desert Museum palo verdes, pistaches, and desert willows.
Yes, pistaches and desert willows are included – fine trees, but overused at the expense of many other trees, including native trees.
Presenting our native live oaks, i.e. evergreen oaks.
They often line arroyos or dot boulder-strewn slopes of foothill and lower mountain areas, near the upper desert’s margin. Where many grow together like this is called an encinal – place of evergreen oaks in Spanish.
The main oak we saw that day was Quercus arizonica / Arizona White Oak.
This live oak has a larger leaf, with a distinctly fuzzy underside
Being an oak there had to be some variation right next to it. Note the leaf shape, form, and color from the top two photos vs. the bottom two photos.
After asking Mike Meléndrez, of Trees That Please in Los Lunas, we can be mostly sure it’s Quercus x organensis / Organ Mountain Oak. That oak is found at the east end of the Dripping Springs trail, a few miles over the ridge to the north.
Some oaks make it difficult to identify them!
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I’ve always enjoyed the many places in nature where plants occur in rows or are spaced evenly, within a backdrop or surrounding of random arrangements. Partly because that goes against cliches and partly because it inspires the reasoning for stronger plant use in the built environment.
Opuntia engelmannii and Garrya wrightii show off their evergreen nature and rounded forms on a winter’s day like this one.
Our hike ended, and since my grocery list needs to be filled, it’s time to run that errand while crossing town on the drive home, far to the west.
Nearing my car, here’s an example of Chihuahuan desert grassland including a background of a juniper-oak savanna, fronted by clumps of the bold Yucca baccata.
This past spring, I was out and about in Albuquerque for car service, some work, and a workout hike. Plus, a break from my daily routine.
Though spring was late to start, the weather was quite pleasant after the first day. Since I couldn’t visit the previous winter and see landscapes in their cool season appearance, dormancy lingered for me this time.
Photos are from April 6-7, 2023:
Late afternoon light at Bill’s home showed off his Euphorbia rigida in flower mode, with evergreen Nolina greenei among still-bare Forestiera neomexicana.
After some work and then a drive in the valley to find a few old projects and interesting plants, I changed into jeans and a nicer shirt. It was time for a quick stop by a firm I do some independent contractor work for.
enter the car park, as Siri sayslooking south
Their firm fronts a busy street through a number of office parks, one of several with landscapes moving past that town’s pre-2000 aspirations towards Midwestern lolipop trees and lawns.
The design by that same firm masses plants native to the greater region on the frontage. Cochineal-spotted Opuntia lindheimeri from Texas greens up the concrete wall, softened by state grass, Bouteloua gracilis. From the mid-elevations of central Arizona to southwestern New Mexico, beefy Nolina microcarpa fills in with bluish Dasylirion wheeleri.
After a half hour there, I drove on now-busy I-25 and I-40 up to the foothills to get in a seriously steep hike before indulging at a new restaurant by UNM.
near the trailhead, a landscape is maturingthis microclimate west of the house is helping these tender Nolina nelsoni
That landscape and water harvesting cistern is by another designer, but it uses some locally and regionally native plants in a loose arrangement.
After a quick change back into a tee, shorts, and hiking boots, I hit the trail. That soft crunch of decomposed granite soil as I headed uphill was what I needed. The sun on my back felt a bit warm, at least combined with the constant effort of the nearly-1,000-foot climb in under a mile.
“The mountain lion-colored hills”, someone else wrote for here.
Also powering through a tan background of granite rock are evergreen plant forms, including Cylindropuntia imbricata, Nolina greenei, Yucca baccata, Quercus turbinella, and Cercocarpus brevifolius.
dry season is December-JuneOenothera albicaulisTrail #365, sans mountain bikelooking down already
I’m enjoying this crazy quilt of color … tapestry of prairie and montane … bold but spare mix of foothill and desert grassland plants, though the monsoon season was months away.
With many opportunities to stop and catch one’s breath, the ideas flow.
Strong plants hold down these dry slopes, where even the xeric oaks have spiky leaves, with Nolina and various grasses underneath. Big views, soft and sharp, bold, and bodacious, though awaiting soaking rain to pop some floral displays and elusive greens.
Quercus turbinellathe distant high point was my goalthis view never gets old
Warm season grasses dotting the area, an occasional, larger green plant adds mass and visual interest. To all the wild birds, lizards, or pollinators, plenty of great places to hang out when people like me are near or far. Opuntia engelmannii and the previously mentioned plants are in attendance.
Keeping on, the land tries to be a woodland or at least a dwarfed one. It’s really an open chaparral, at the elevation and dryness limits of desert grassland and chaparral.
The only times I saw a ringtail cat were right below, twice in 15 years of hikes. No pics, but they’re like small raccoons. The real cats are few but don’t like you seeing them.
“Ringtail Gorge”
Do you see why I stress and design with plenty of evergreen and sculpture plants, when flowering is fleeting and growth comes in quick sprints, only to fade?
A garden depending on flowers and mesic grasses is a very plain version of what all these foothills are, without the greens of cacti, yuccas, and live oaks. Not to mention the foothills have those huge granite boulders forming the look and mood, which cannot be obtained or afforded in the nearby gardens in town.
Now, the trail levels out, with a higher vantage point than previous views.
Corydalis aureathe state tree: Piñon
That’s Pinus edulis, here with more Opuntia engelmannii and Yucca baccata. At least today, while sticking to Latin or botanical names. There’s some ducking through a boulder tunnel, and a gentle climb or two left to the high point.
a natural granite crevice garden, sans fussy perennials
The last bit of that day’s trail, usually with plenty of Verbena wrightii, Castilleja integra, or Corydalis / Scrambled Eggs coloring up the greenish grama grasses by this time of year. Had there been more cool season moisture. No such luck, yet we’re in luck with those Cylindropuntia imbricata, larger than most below – more rain and soil.
Flowers or not: the reward, other than staying in shape.
ahhhhhh
Rush hour? What rush hour? I named this The Perch while looking up at it from my last home, so long ago. From up here, one can see 75 miles west to Mount Taylor or south to the Magdalena Mountains near Socorro. Possibly further?
But this is the top of that hike – to compare, my old house is 5,650 ft elevation.
another natural crevice gardenand back downgreen always wins for me
10 minutes from my car, 10 minutes on the freeway with rush hour over and going the opposite direction, anyway.
Good music cranked up, the sunroof is open as I drove towards into the western skies. Enough time to get back to Bill’s home on lower ground, freshen up, put on fresh clothes, and make our dinner reservation at Mesa Provisions.
And yes, it was a great meal and experience!
rise and shinearound the block
Yucca rostrata, Yucca baccata, Yucca recurvifolia – the yucca state.
Cedrus atlantica ‘Glauca’, an Agave salmiana, and other members of my own plant palette were seen around, as I sought out good coffee, to get some work completed. Of course, I was armed with a couple croissants, seated outside at a patio table.
My last full day ended by catching up with Will at the above firm at his home, the workday over. His neighbors Rick and Diane, who I haven’t seen in well over a decade, were there. We sat by his pool, in the shade, and talked planning and plants, and personal updates.
I’ll post a bit more on Rick and Diane’s landscape another time.
Rick’s / Diane’s front
Those last two photos were from the neighborhood opposite Indian School from Will and Rick, enroute to dinner in that strangely, now unfamiliar town that’s changed little. The masses of two sotols were by far one of the more appealing plantings nearby: Dasylirion wheeleri in blue-green, Dasylirion texanum or D. leiophyllum in green.
Paired with the contemporary home and low retaining / garden wall, that front area didn’t try to do too much but fail. It did all that was necessary, then spoke clearly.
The pines and Yucca faxoniana, with soon-to-green up Chilopsis linearis, finished the statement.
It's A Dry Heat 