Saturday Sedum Watch at the Lost Madrone Ranch: March 11, 2017

It’s Saturday, and we’re watching the sedums — a delightful perennial flowering plant.

Last week, my first Saturday sedum blog post noted that Sedum nuttallianum is a sedum variety native to Texas and grows wild at the ranch in Comfort.

Sedums are in the plant family commonly called “stonecrops,” and when the sedums first emerge they resemble ruby-red colored stones. A few weeks ago, the sedums first sprouted along the edges of the limestone outcroppings.

Here is a reminder of how tiny the sedums looked last week.

Sedums are succulents, because of their thick, fleshy water-storing leaves, and as they mature their leaves fatten with water and change color.

The sedums start out a deep ruby red.

Then, the ruby color changes to a sweet, rosy pink and hints of pale green join the transition.

As the pink color fades, a lime green color comes more into view.

Finally, the green dominates the leaves.

The shades of green vary —

from pale,

to electric,

to a soft even tone.

Last week, most of the sedum crop in Comfort was between the ruby red stage and the preppy stage of rosy pink and green.

In one week’s time, with warm weather and rain, the sedum is fast maturing — not yet ready to bloom but growing from red toward a solid green.

You can guess the soil depth by studying the stages of the sedums as they grow further away from the edges of the hard rock. In areas of deeper soil is where you find the most mature sedum. I’m guessing the richer soil spurred a head start.

Lots of symbolism there — child-rearing comes to mind. With sedums, they all bloom brilliantly together, regardless of their nurture.

The hilltop by the house is filling in with sedums.

The penny perspective is a reminder that while the sedums have come a long way from a tiny ruby stone, the sedums are still teensy.

As they stretch across the hilltop, they infiltrate the short grasses growing in the slightly deeper soil.

The boundary of their sprawl is where the soil is deep enough to support the native grasses — growing tall throughout the spring and summer season and keeping their height and mat as they stand dormant in the winter. It is an impenetrable boundary the sedum cannot cross.

Sedums are so small they call you to enter their world as you move close to the ground to capture their picture.

The soil where the sedums thrive may be shallow, but oh, the space is deep in other ways.

What looks from afar to be only a sea of sedums, is a diverse society of life and color.

When trying (unsuccessfully) to focus this photo,

I was unaware this little fellow was hanging out until viewing the picture on my computer screen. (Can you look closer and find him in the picture above?)

I didn’t see these slugs slugging away.

And there was no rain the morning I shot this photo, just the morning dew blanketed the sedum.

Ghost-white dried sedum flowers from the year before, hint at the flower shape of the yellow blooms to come.

For now, these little yellow flowers have the stage to themselves, but will soon be overshadowed by the yellow sedum show.

Other little plants work their way to the sunlight.

And spotting pops of color is like finding jewels.

The blue of a flint field mixes with the green sedums, evoking Earth’s colors as seen from space.

This inspection up close reminds me of my meanders at the ranch. The slow walks are when I uncover the most mystery and marvel. For in the slowness, I can see. Focusing for a time on a spot allows the space to unveil. Most of the time something unexpected happens.

A tree stands still until something moves…