For 6 Magic Weeks, Purple Reigns
Here’s a trivia question for the start of summer: What do Nairobi, Buenos Aires and Sherman Oaks have in common?
If you answered “main streets lined with jacaranda trees,” then put a purple flower in your cap.
As for the rest of you, it’s time to learn to appreciate that exotic tree hanging overhead, the bad and the beautiful of the plant kingdom.
City fathers in subtropical climes around the world have seen fit to plant row upon row of blue-flowering jacaranda trees along their principal boulevards for the parading pleasure of emperors, dictators and generals.
Here, our buds have more democratic roots. So as a cool spring begins to wane and a blast-furnace summer to wax, jacarandas are tossing their blossoms like mad across ordinary San Fernando Valley neighborhoods. Fecund harbingers of hot weather that flower for just six weeks, they’re as messy as they are beautiful--pouring out a dazzling drizzle of purple petals that blanket anything that doesn’t move.
Are you prepared? Here’s a guide to Southern California’s annual Blue Period:
Where do jacarandas come from?
Seeds. Those hard, silver-dollar-shaped pods that hang on the ends of the jack’s branches open in the heat and spill into the wind. Nature hopes that some of them will land on hospitable soil and start baby trees. Because few people want to wait for the hand of God to stick a jacaranda next to their pool, most are purchased from nurseries. That way, they can stain your concrete 10 years earlier.
No, I mean what country are they from?
Authorities at the Los Angeles County Arboretum in Arcadia believe that travelers from southern Brazil brought the first jacaranda seeds here in the mid-1800s. Exactly when, no one’s sure. Arboretum consultant David O. Lofgren explained this in the technical jargon of his profession: “People bring in things and they don’t tell anybody.”
Are their flowers always purple?
Strangely enough, jacarandas are not supposed to be purple. Ideally, according to Lofgren, they should be deep blue. In fact, international flower cognoscenti scoff at the light lavender hues common in our area. Some of the best blues are reportedly found along the broad avenues of Buenos Aires in Argentina. Of course, flower breeders can’t leave well enough alone--so it’s possible occasionally to see white and even orange-flowering jacarandas.
Am I pronouncing the name right?
Because of our area’s pervasive Spanish influence, many people mistakenly believe that the first syllable is pronounced as ha --as it would be in Mexico. Well, ha! Because the tree hails from Portuguese-speaking Brazil, it should actually be pronounced with a hard j , like Joseph.
How long do they grow?
Jacarandas grow at a slow to medium pace, depending on how anxious you are. Unlike humans and animals, trees don’t have a set life span. They flourish as long as the conditions are right. Some in South America are hundreds of years old. The best conditions: a sandy soil, moderate water, and no ocean breezes or salt air. If you must plant them in a lawn where they’ll be overwatered, says Lili Singer, host of KCRW’s “Southern California Gardener” radio show, don’t let the grass grow right up to the bark. That can rot the trunk. Another sure way to kill the tree: allowing your Weed Whacker to slice and dice the bottom of a jacaranda trunk as you trim dandelions from the lawn.
What’s with the mist of sap that spews off jacaranda flowers and slimes my car?
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but that sticky stuff isn’t nectar or sap. It’s aphid waste. According to Lofgren, jacarandas are a favorite luncheon spot for millions of hungry aphids. They have to suck a lot of useless carbohydrates out of the flower nectar to get enough protein to keep their little green brains sparking, and excrete whatever they don’t need through a “tiny spigot in their gut,” says Lofgren. Some PR agent for the Aphid Protective League long ago named this stuff “honeydew.” Ants adore honeydew, and protect aphids from such predators as ladybugs and parasitic wasps by stroking their backs like affectionate bodyguards.
If you must park under a jacaranda, Lofgren says, wax your car regularly. The honeydew will wash off. But don’t wait long. Heat from the sun causes a chemical reaction that may bake the disintegrating flowers to your car as a permanent souvenir of an aphid banquet.
How do I get rid of these icky bugs?
Blast the foliage with a strong stream of water or apply insecticidal soap before the flowers bloom.
Where are the best places to see jacarandas around here?
In “Exceptional Trees of Los Angeles,” author Donald Hodel commends a 50-foot jacaranda at 1870 Los Robles Ave. in San Marino. In the Valley, visit Stansbury Street or Dixie Canyon Avenue near Valley Vista Boulevard in Sherman Oaks, or Index Street in Granada Hills. Downtown, a handsome row of jacks frames the County Hall of Administration. In Beverly Hills, famous for its jacaranda-lined avenues, Whittier Street is a standout.
Should everyone plant them, so that space shuttle astronauts could identify Los Angeles from far away as a big purple puff?
Maybe not. Singer, who works as a horticultural consultant to homeowners in addition to her efforts as newsletter publisher and radio host, suggests that people enjoy the area’s plentiful jacarandas as a “borrowed landscape.” Take advantage of the fact that your neighbor has to sweep up the flowers from a beautiful jacaranda within your line of sight, she says, and plant a less messy tree yourself. To satisfy a passion for blue or light purple flowers, she suggests crepe myrtles ( Lagerstroemia indica ), pink trumpet trees ( Tabebuia impetiginosa ) , and sky flower trees ( Duranta repens ) .
Is that really aphid poop on my Range Rover?
Yup.
