trade-offs part 1: colors and textures

A recent e-mail from Sue lamented the lack of winter color here in Albuquerque. Sue is moving to Albuquerque from Southern California and is just realizing, with a shock, how different it's going to be in Albuquerque.

"ABQ is so BROWN...... no lush green like it is here. No palm trees. Actually hardly any trees at all! I know you understand - you're from CA. Did I make a mistake? What was I thinking? Am I gonna hate it? I NEED trees, grass, flowers! I'm moving for a great job opp, but I've never lived in a landlocked state. I grew up on a lake in upstate NY...... my husband grew up on an island off the coast of Maine. Yikes."

Let me state this plainly: the natural color of winter in Albuquerque is brown. In fact, summer in Albuquerque is rather brown also, though less so. No lush green. And with this being the desert, there is usually very little snow. Most trees here would be considered shrubs anywhere else in the country. It is a mind shift. There are trade offs, however. Good trade-offs. One is that you get the big open skies. This is a place where the most important thing is the relationship between the land and the sky. The scale is very large. Another, is that the sunsets are incredible. Again, there is the relationship to the sky. And the big skies make the very colorful sunsets that much more incredible. Here's the sunset from the roof of my house one summer evening last year.


There are trade-offs in the gardening world as well. In the last couple of years, I've become more and more aware of the nuances of the winter landscape in Albuquerque. It's true that the natural landscape appears to be primarily brown from October to March. But there is beauty there, too. The quality of stone becomes forefront, and fortunately, the stone here is dramatic. Closer, you also see that there is a lot of variation in color. Although from a distance, what you see is mostly nondescript brown, there is color there.

The beargrass remains a yellow-green,
the cholla turns purplish, and the mountain mahogany remains olive. Some opuntia turn yellowish, others turn purple, red, and orange.

This wild purple opuntia is more red and orange than purple.
This opuntia in my neighbor's yard is glowing with color all winter.

This is the quality of the winter landscape that you don't get in California: the change in color. The fall leaves here are significant but aren't very dramatic compared to the east coast. The winter color of plants, however, last all winter. If you choose wisely, you can get a kaleidoscope of color.

Penstemon linaroides develops tints of purple amid the frosty blue.

Even the variation of color from the different junipers have impact. Some plants turn yellowish, others turn a dusky purple, some stay or turn blue. A garden of just junipers could have the reverse impact: rather monotonous summer, but a colorful winter.

This garden has three forms of juniper, the yellow-green, the red-purple, and the blue.
My Juniperus scopulorum 'Wichita Blue' gets icy blue in the winter.

My favorites are the plants that turn red. I've blogged about these before.
Eriogonum umbellatum
Penstemon clutei

Euphorbia 'Blackbird'

Now, just look at all the photos that I've shown you, and imagine them in a garden together: the yellow-green beargrass, the purple opuntia, the red leaves of various plants. Juniper 'Wichita Blue' adds height to the color. Let's add a little sedum 'Angelina' for contrasting yellow, though the tips of red connect to the other reds. Let's also add a pinyon pine for some green (don't forget that green is a color, and one that sets off the red). I'd consider also adding some sculptural yucca or agave. Now you've got a garden of a variety of textures and colors that will last all winter. (click to embiggen)


That's not even adding the color and texture of brown: the white new stems of chamisa, or the dark, red-black browns of the bark of mountain mahogany. Don't underestimate the browns. They are lovely. In a planted garden, the textures and range of browns can be delicious.

Chamisa up close.

Mountain mahogany (Cercocarpus breviflorus)

It's ironic that I've just been offered a job in California, isn't it?