Is There A Volcano In Your Neighborhood?
Let me be clear: a view of Mount Hood doesn't count. Or Hawaii.
Not at all what I expected, when seeing it from afar. What I expected was a crude tiki-land sort of thing. Up close, this was a carefully crafted Mount Fuji surrounded by a well designed Japanese-style conifer garden. And it was old--it looked early 1960s-era. Someone has loved and tended this garden for decades.
A wheelchair ramp indicates the original gardener may now be unable to tend the garden, and watering restrictions have forced the grass to die, but most of the conifers are still precisely cloud-pruned, and someone has watered and trimmed the cluster of Cycas revoluta. They looked healthy.
This structure was a mystery. The center branch of the dead tree was added. There was a chipped bonsai container topping the roof, and the whole thing was in abysmal condition. What was it, originally? We were baffled.
On the same street, a hellstrip of Agave attenuata:
Around the corner, one of the homes in our area that is obviously the farmhouse once surrounded by citrus groves. A check of property records show it was built in 1931. Some charming details.
Next to that was the house with an olive tree buzzed into the shape of a...a...hockey puck? Yes, that's an olive tree. I got out of the car and checked.
Okay. Who's got a neighborhood volcano or a hockey-puck tree?