My home is located on a terraced street sliced off the side of a hillside, territory typical of San Diego. Whether I walk the upper side of the street, as my house is situated, or on the lower, I’m in deep debt to my neighbors for their yards and/or hillside plantings. In nearly all the yards, wonderful succulents and cactus not only hold the ground, often being native plants—but in recent years, have also opened my eyes to the beauty and vast variety of these plants, and their seasons.

I took the photograph above on one of many morning walks after rain. Titled “Jeweled Agave,” it’s been on exhibit in in the Exhibition of Photography at the San Diego County Fair and is a tribute to where I live. Also to the idea that you don’t have to travel to find amazing things to photograph: just look around you. Keep looking.
The neighbors are used to me, though recently, on introducing myself to new owners, I said, “If you see me in your front yard, sort of burrowing into your plants, please don’t be surprised or worried. I take a lot of photographs around here.”
During our recent rains, I took hundreds of images. Oh, and the blessedly dripping aftermath! Now I look for whatever I can find among plants which are often literally drawing into themselves and settling into living dry. The local climate being what it is, drought reigns all summer and usually well into the fall. Yet some plants also come into their own season now, even glory.
In my own backyard, too. I am so grateful to the owner and gardener before us, for all they planted over forty years ago. Large stands of succulents, especially the aeoniums, a variety colloquially called “schwarz kopf” or black head for its (sometimes) black coloration. I follow them throughout the year, from their dark ruby/rosy stage in winter and spring. Now, with summer settling in, they’re compacting, withdrawing into what I’d call survival mode. Those languid extended petals now fold in, turned to the increasingly warm sun.
So here are a few more images from the past few months, Come, take a walk with me.
Though—full disclosure— the first image is a calla lily plant; all the rest are succulents.










Very nice, Sally. I love how your heart always shines through your work.
Fran, Thank you so much! Sally
Beautiful pictures! Is that a spider web in front of the agave, with a string of droplets on it and a spider near the right end? And do you happen to know what the last plant is, i.e. the deep maroon one? Also, I got to wondering: my memory is that if you have a water droplet on a lens it acts like a fisheye lens (and shows you a whole hemisphere) and also reverses the image. I’m not totally sure about that though. I wonder what happens with the reflection off a droplet. It sure looks like a full hemisphere, and I can see your reflection in each of the droplets. It’s really interesting how the reflection of the sky part of the image varies from one droplet to another.
hi, Janet, and thank you for reading and looking so carefully! Interestingly, I never noticed my reflection in these droplets, but have in other photos where the drops are larger. As you can probably tell, I’m fascinated by reflections and you’ll see many other images of them, eventually.
The deep maroon plant (3 images) is an eneaonium – Often called “schwarzkopt” (black head) because of its deep hue. There are two major stands of them in my back yard, though of course right now they look pretty sad.
I always enjoy your observant and thoughtful reactions — thank you so much– Sally
Such gorgeous photographs, Sally! The rain does remarkable things and you capture them so well.
Thank you, Amanda, I’m already looking forward to next winter which I hear is going to be a wet one.
Lovely to hear from you and I hope you’re both fine and enjoying summer, though staying cool somehow! Sally