Not much chlorophyll, but what is here is frenetically diverse
and bizarre. Jason and I admired a part of a plant that, if cut
off at the base, could easily be used to stab large holes in someone's
back. Also, almost every scrap of greenery is gardened, tended,
staked, pruned, sprinkled or something. They keep both dogs and
plants on a leash here. And if a plant wants that precious water
from the master, it had better cooperate. Weeds are exiled outside
the L.A. County Water System without a trial.
Sold everywhere. A shopping cart full of bagged oranges is the
big city Southern Californian equivalent of a southern roadside
fruit 'n' vegetable stand with the"Boild P-Nuts" sign. Angrifyingly, fruit juice in restaurants is just as expensive here as anywhere,
the small glass just as tiny.
Ya know, it never crossed my mind before, but the palm tree is
plentiful enough in Los Angeles for it to become a weed. I had
difficultly getting my mind around this concept, but I have seen
plenty of examples - lone stubby things poking through a concrete
median or curb. Sure, a palm tree is not a hothouse orchid or
anything, but one's expectations are for it to be sitting on some
manicured plot of grass near a beach, Beverly Hills or forty feet
tall. Somehow a two foot high palm tree cracking a sidewalk by
the chain link fence that surrounds my parking lot at work is
um, kinda weird.
Vital L.A. Guide