cehwiedel: Opinion, Analysis, Humor,
Satire, Mystery,
Fantasy & Facts
Fantasy & Facts
Bird of Paradise
According to Pat Welsh’s Southern California
Gardening, bird of paradise (Strelitzia
nicolai, Strelitzia reginae) is a
favored habitat for a messy pest from Mexico, giant whitefly (Aleurodicus
dugesii Cockerell), that hides on the underside
of leaves and sucks on the
plant’s sap once hatched. The immature whiteflies produce
“honeydew” — a sticky
thread that rapidly turns your striking bird of paradise into a
nightmare version of an unkempt bearded dirty old goat. The
recommended control is through release of beneficial predators,
primarily Mexican wasps (Ideoporus
affinis and Encarsiella noyesii), or
weekly vigorous showers from a hose. She recommends bird of
paradise as a well-behaved plant next to swimming pools.
The Sunset Western Garden Book differentiates
between the giant bird of paradise (S.
nicolai), which is
grown primarily for its huge leaves, and S. reginae, a
smaller version which is the subject of the photographs here.
Much to my surprised amusement, I have
discovered that S. reginae is the official flower of the
city of Los Angeles even
though it is native to South Africa.
If you think the leaves look similar to
those of banana trees, you’re right. And like its
fruit-bearing relative, birds of paradise of either size do not
like frost and are not recommended for areas that see regular
cold weather.
A single gallon container of S. reginae, bought
at a nursery and innocently
added as an accent to a frontyard garden,
can grow into a huge and impenetrable clump. The Sunset folks
discourage division or reduction, claiming that larger clumps
provide more and more frequent blooms. That may be true, but
allowing a clump to take over your yard isn’t appealing.
If you’re lucky enough to live
where a (non-giant) bird of paradise will grow happily,
you’ll want to water it regularly (it is a tropical plant,
rather than a desert plant), feed it to keep it healthy, watch
for whiteflies and knock them off when you’re watering,
and keep the clump under control through division as needed.
Then trot out an “Aw,
shucks!” expression when visitors from colder climates
marvel.
