One of the many things that drew us to Dancing Red was the grand gesture of mature agaves lining the long front fenceline. Ross’ very first project was to thin them out and edit out everything besides them and the mountain laurels. Beyond the gate, down toward the house, there was one more, lone agave, around which Ross created our magnificent agave field from transplants and pups. We’re in love with our agaves — their heroic scale, their subtle, double coloring, and their imprinted graphic patterns.
So we had mixed emotions when that mother-of-all-agaves flowered last fall, along with one at the front fence. As amazing as those 18-feet flowering stalks were, they meant the death of the plants. They each left a hole, literally, in the gardens.
But they left behind a pair of baroque totems that live on as the portal to the north trail head. We “planted” them last weekend:
And now two more agaves in the fence garden have sent up their flower stalks. We’ll harvest them, too, for “matching” portals at the other trail head.