Examine any list of drought-tolerant plants and you will search in vain for roses. This is not at all fair since there are a significant number of rose species and dozens of rose cultivars that will do just fine with a single weekly watering, if not less, even in the high heat of summer. Do a google search for “drought-tolerant roses” and you will begin to consider planting a garden of nothing but roses since there are all types of roses, from ground covers to climbers, that have minimal water needs.
The most drought-tolerant roses are China roses. Noteworthy among them is the so-called butterfly rose (Rosa chinensis ‘Mutabilis’), a multi-colored rose whose flowers open up yellow in the morning, change to pale pink in the afternoon, and by the time evening arrives, assume a color somewhere between deep rose pink and magenta. I can testify to the toughness of this rose since I planted several specimens more than a decade ago, and today they form a wonderful informal hedge at the edge of my garden, providing year-round color for both me and my neighbor while reaching a height of between seven and eight feet.
China roses drew special notice on the part of water-conscious gardeners in 1969. A specimen of ‘Old Blush,’ a pink China rose, was discovered next to a deserted shack in the Texas countryside. This abandoned rose had obviously not received irrigation for years, had endured many harsh summers, and yet was thriving, as lush as any rose in a well-kept garden.
An ‘Old Blush’ specimen is growing at the Nature Center of the San Gabriel Dam Recreation Center, at 15501 E. Arrow Highway in Irwindale. Nate Benesi, the proprietor of the waterless garden planted there through the efforts of the San Gabriel Mountains Regional Conservancy, informs me that this rose bush has not received any water other than winter rain since the spring of 2019. Succulents, California natives, and a variety of seldom encountered species are also found in the waterless garden.
What makes China roses special among drought-tolerant roses is their reblooming capacity. Many China rose cultivars flower on and off throughout the year in mild climates such as ours. Several other species of roses, while equally drought-tolerant, have a single annual bloom period.
The most familiar one-time annual bloomer is Lady Banks (Rosa banksiae), a vining or climbing rose that is a most wonderful sight to see in late winter or early spring when few, if any, woody perennials are in bloom. Its elongated shoots are covered end to end in small double yellow (Lutea cultivar) roses. On occasion, a white Lady Banks cultivar (Alba) is also seen. The growth of Lady Banks roses is explosive, and you will have to hard prune it regularly to keep it in bounds.
Rugosa roses, although more common in the Eastern U.S. than here, are also water thrifty. An appealing feature of Rugosas is their tactile, crinkly foliage, making them an appealing garden curiosity. Gallica and Centifolia roses are two other popular rose types that bloom just once a year yet have a minimal water requirement.
Truth be told, if you water any sort of rose through drip irrigation and religiously maintain a four-inch layer of mulch around it, you will not have to budget an enormous quantity of water to make it flourish. And I, for one, am not yet ready to give the boot to roses of any description since they are the grand dames of the flower garden and always will be.
In some quarters, David Austin roses have a reputation for water neediness. Yet one of Benesi’s roses is ‘Evelyn,’ a magnificent David Austin cultivar that has been watered by nothing but rainfall for two years. Evelyn is not only apricot-peach in color but has a fruity fragrance of fresh apricots and peaches to match. Evelyn has the look of an old rose with its numerous folded layers of petals that number in the vicinity of 100. The bush grows around five feet tall and three feet wide. Appropriately, the name of this rose honors John Evelyn, who lived in 16th century England and wrote what some consider to be the first book on conservation of the environment as we know it today.
For years, I kept my eyes on a rose garden adjacent to a bank on Ventura Boulevard in Encino. It featured a breathtaking ‘About Face’ Grandiflora rose, whose opulent apricot-orange blooms carried a scent of apples. This rose bush was one of several growing in a planter bordered by the bank’s asphalt parking lot on one side and the city’s concrete sidewalk on the other. The reflected heat absorbed from these hard surfaces did not diminish the beauty of the roses growing there. Unfortunately, as we see almost everywhere these days, roses are being replaced by agaves, yuccas, and cacti which, although they have their place, can hardly compete with roses for the happiness they bring when in bloom.
Speaking of drought tolerance, corn was originally a crop that was dry-farmed (that is, never irrigated) by the Aztecs. Yet, just as wild mustard bears only the most remote resemblance to the broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, and kohlrabi that were derived from it, wild corn is unrecognizable in the corn we eat today. Teosinte, a wild and barely edible grass, was the ancestor of corn. Teosinte “ears” are only an inch long, bear a dozen tiny kernels, and are enclosed in pods. The original corn was also slow to ripen, needing four months after planting before it had matured sufficiently to be harvested.
Corn has enormous potential as a crop for arid zones and intensive breeding efforts are being conducted with that in mind. Already, more than 20% of the corn grown in the United States comes from DT (drought-tolerant) varieties.
Rhubarb is a tough perennial that is not thirsty once established, enjoys a snap of cold to grow its best, and is fine for the Antelope Valley. You can enjoy rhubarb harvests for ten years that are produced from a single crown or clump of roots. Acquire one-year-old crowns from online vendors and plant them at this time of year.
Tip of the Week: If you like popcorn, consider growing some. To be precise: select corn varieties whose hard kernels are meant to be popped. Corn is indigenous to Mexico and the earliest varieties of cultivated corn, that go back 4,000 years, were of the popcorn type. It was only 2,000 years ago that corn that could be ground into flour was first developed after centuries of hybridization. The hard coats of popcorn kernels are so durable and waterproof that 4,000-year-old kernels discovered by archaeologists were successfully popped. Consider the popcorn kernel in a pressure cooker. Under intense heat, the starch in the kernel is liquefied and eventually explodes, but then instantaneously solidifies into the puffy snack in which moviegoers delight. When placed under a microscope immediately after popping, bubbles of liquefied starch are still visible on the flakes. You can find several varieties of seeds that produce ears of corn with kernels meant for popping, including Mini Blue and red Cherry Berry, at harrisseeds.com.
This post first appeared on ocregister.com
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