Each Little World

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: 08.15.09

It's a rare month when I let another subject take precedence over Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. But this month I'm a day early with my post because tomorrow is a personal anniversary that deserves a special mention. So happy almost-Bloom-Day! 

Truth is that my garden at this point in the season is mostly green, and that's the way I like it. I'm ready for a slowdown in the floral parade by the time August arrives. That doesn't mean, however, that there's nothing to see. What may be the most dramatic display of the gardening year is at its peak of perfection and gets to star in this month's GBBD offering.

Most of you are probably familiar with white baneberry (Actaea pachypoda) as it is widely distributed in the U.S. The source of its common name — "Doll's Eyes" — is obvious from one look at the berries. However, they are as deadly poisonous as they are beautiful. That means most critters, including deer and rabbits, leave this plant alone. But it's probably not something you want to grow if you have children and pets who have the run of your garden.

I tried growing this plant at least three times in three different locations before giving up. It would grow nicely all season but never make it through the winter. And then, one year, it showed up on its own in the driest soil under a pair of old spruce trees. The flowers remind me of Tiarella or Fothergilla and the foliage is reminiscent of Astilbe.

It grew slowly into a good size clump but now is self-seeding. But it is so colorful — and makes such a strong visual statement — that I can't imagine reducing the size of the massed clumps. 

I will probably pull out the scattered seedlings but a display like this is what I imagined when I planted my first Actea. You can see (below) how it started growing right up against the tree trunk and spread outward from there. This display is about 4' wide x 6' long x 3' high.

Nothing beats a healthy display of Doll's Eyes unless it's Actea pachypoda f. rubrocarpa from Seneca Hill. I pretty much ignored the red-berried version of this plant until I read about this variety on Seneca Hill's Web site. 

They call it a "lovely variant" from the more typical tomato red berries and note the plants are grown from seed collected in their own woodland. They also describe the fruit as "glowing," deep magenta pink in color. I would probably call them cerise. 

But as the season progresses, Mark thinks the berries are getting more and more of a purplish cast. Suffice it to say they're stunning no matter how you describe the color. (Seneca Hill is now taking fall orders and this variety is still listed).

Though rabbits are supposed to ignore baneberries, they nibbled this variety down right after it was initially planted in 2006. As a result, I caged it. I left the cage on all winter and into the next summer until the plant was big enough to survive on its own. I've continued to do so but it probably doesn't need such babying anymore.

If you're not familiar with GBBD, it's the creation of Carol of May Dreams Gardens and is one of the best ideas on the web. It's a great occasion to show off your garden and an even better one to meet new gardeners and discover wonderful new plants — some of which may even be able to grow in your Zone.

Making shade

A few years ago we lost a 50-year-old crabapple tree. This was not a dwarf but a big old tree that was home to a group of mature shade plants. Plants that were too happy and healthy — and too big — to move, even if there was a spot for them elsewhere in the garden. We replaced the crab with a multi-trunk Pagoda dogwood that is already a significant presence. What it isn't, however, is a significant source of shade for most of the plants around it.

Last year, my Kirengeshoma palmata started to fry in the hot, sunny and dry days of July. The leaves burned, and the flower buds dried up. Watering it helped, but wasn't enough to keep it from turning into a poor copy of itself. This month — with half the usual July rainfall — it looked like the Kirengeshoma was going to suffer the same fate. 

At four feet high and about five feet across, Kirengeshoma is more shrub than perennial. Though the canopy of the new dogwood is teasingly touching the plant's edges, it's not enough to keep the Kirengeshoma lush and lovely. So I created my own shade at the critical moment. I decided if a big umbrella could protect me from sunburn, it could do the same for the plant. 

I unearthed this umbrella, of unknown origin, from the basement. Made of heavily waxed paper, it lets some light through but deflects the harsh noontime rays of the sun. I stuck the handle in a big ceramic jar to keep it in place — and, voila! Instant sunshade. I've protected the plant on and off for almost a month. This last week has brought cooler temperatures, clouds and, yesterday, even some rain. The Kirengeshoma is covered with fat buds about to open. Soon I'll be able to close up my sun screen, sit back, and enjoy the show. 

Monet, me and the Water lilies

Painter Claude Monet said that the intent of his famed series of images of the water lilies in his garden was to portray "the illusion of an endless whole, of water without horizon or bank." The intent of this series of photos is to portray the water lilies in our garden. But it appears that we, too, have water without horizon or bank. 

Not true, as you've seen, in our many posts describing the design and construction of our Garden Odyssey. But water lilies beg to be captured on film in a manner most deceptive.

Unlike in Monet's paintings and his garden, you won't find any pink water lilies here. Nor tropical blues and purples. Just whites and yellows for us.

I limited the colors of our water plants to those two hues because I wanted to visually "read" the pond as a unit that quietly nestled within the larger garden. I felt that white and yellow water lilies looked natural in a way that bright reds never would be able to do. And they would not draw attention to themselves to the detriment of the larger view, as is so often the case with red flowers.

Though our color palette is limited, the size of the water lily flowers and the number of petals varies with the cultivar; some of each color are also blushed with pink. And the size and markings of the leaves varies widely as well.

We don't grow any vegetables in our garden because the sunniest spot is where the pond is located — so we can grow water lilies, which need lots of light and heat to do well. Our dose of high temperatures and sunny days in mid-June got the water lilies off to a great start.

Our first water lily of the season opened on June 12; there were 5 blooming two days later — white and yellow both. We noted 12 lilies blooming on June 16 and 24 flowering on June 23. Our current record is 27 water lilies blooming at once on June 27. The flowers are fleeting, though not quite as short lived as daylilies. Usually they bloom a second day at the minimum.

The stems can be quite colorful, as this shot emphasizes. If I were doing a painting of our water lilies, this is the image I would choose to interpret. I love how everything seems flat, as though it's all floating one one picture plane.

Our water lilies are like all the other plants in our garden: they're perennials. We cut off the dead flowers and stems in November, and put the plastic pots they grow in down at the bottom of the pond where it's three feet deep. They over-winter just like the rest of our perennials.

The water plant on the left — also with a yellow flower — is a Nuphar (N. pumila). This plant grew in the pond where Mark went as a child and he insisted we have one in our pond also.

All of our water lilies were purchased in 1998 and, like all happy perennials, have been divided again and again. This is done when the plants are not blooming and, after eleven years, we're hard pressed to correctly identify them. And, of course, there's the usual confusion: the water lily marked Nymphae odorata 'Alba' was found to have a second tag deep within the plant when we went to divide it, suggesting it might be N. marliacea albida (another while with a pink blush).

Ultimately, we don't really care which plant is which. The water lilies are the stars of a seamless, floating garden. But they're not garden prima donas. Their beauty lies in the way they change with the light, their lush buds unfolding into endless layers. From now until fall, they will be the only flowers on display. And if they exhaust themselves and disappear, their huge leaves, spotted and blotched, flat and curled, will be display enough for us.  

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: 06.15.09

June is still bustin' out all over. The garden is one big bouquet: lush, colorful, fragrant, with buds and blooms coming and going almost before your eyes. I'd complain that I'm exhausted from running hither and yon to see what's different than yesterday or this morning — except that this is what I've waited for and dreamed of all year. 

Carol, who started Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, calls her blog "May Dreams Gardens," referring to those winter dreams of the days in May when "the garden is all new again." My June wish fulfillment is pictured below.

The second daylily of 2009 — the Lemon lily — has tall scapes and is sweetly scented with its citrus namesake. This lily (Hemerocallis flava or H. asphodelus, above) is an early bloomer, often appearing in May with the daylily that opens first for me year after year: Dumort's daylily (H. dumortieri), colored the orangey-yellow of schoolbuses. Also blooming H. 'Cricket;' to be followed by about 18 more varieties throughout the summer.

This photo barely does justice to the glowing cerise flowers of Heuchera 'Rave On,' a trial plant I received a few years ago from Terra Nova nurseries. It's a compact charmer with silvered leaves. I never filled out my forms for Terra Nova, so if you're reading this, it's one great little plant! My garden includes 20 different Heucheras of different ages, sizes, colors, and habits. All but a few are sporting airy clouds of flowers. But I'll love them all just as much once the flowers are gone. You know it's all about the leaves with this plant — but that's a different post!

If I love Heucheras, I'm mad for Geraniums with sixteen varieties scattered about the garden. But where most of Heuchers are planted as an individual exclamation point or modest clump of three or four plants, my Geraniums cover the ground in waves of pink and lavender. They are the signature flower of my garden, ranging from the petite G. dalmaticum to the dramatic G. phaeum 'Joan Baker' clocking in at 39 inches tall.  Above is Geranium renardii 'Tschelda' with thick, gray green leaves and velvety purple flowers.

I can see the dark ruby red flowers of Clematis 'Niobe' from the window above the kitchen sink — an unplanned bonus! One of only three Clematis in the garden and the sole one blooming at the moment.

A tiny treasure without an index card in my plant identification catalog. Do you recognize it? Clearly a dwarf, creeping Campanula but it is very well-behaved and does not seem to set seed or romp. Perhaps C. cochlerifolia?

The big clumps of fragrant peonies that had been growing here since the house was built in 1954 have sadly been shaded out. I've planted a few early woodland peonies to avoid that problem but only have three P. lactiflora varieties in my limited sunny areas. This beauty is "Soft Salmon Joy," a single, 28" tall, mid-season peony introduced by Roy Klehm of Klehm's Song Sparrow Farm and Nursery. Roy brought enough plants to give to everyone in attendance at his Oct. 2001 talk to the members of the Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society. As a Wisconsin nurseryman with strong ties to the state, Klehm has been very generous to the WHPS.

This Iris siberica came from my sister's garden in Pennsylvania. It is one of five varieties (out of seven) blooming at the moment in the garden. It wouldn't be June without irises!

Last but never least is my lone rose : Rosa rugosa var. Albo-plena. It is rather a light bloomer (my usual problem of too much shade) with slightly double flowers. It is, however, knock-your-socks-off fragrant and well-worth finding room for in your garden.  

One of three bouquets of June bloomers that I picked over the weekend. Here are the peony and Heuchera mentioned above along with daylilies (lemon on the left and Dumort's on the right), the limey green flowers of Lady's Mantle and a few flowers of Geranium cantabrigiense 'Biokovo' in the lower left corner of the vase.

Woodland peonies

Peonies are a sentimental garden favorite whose luscious — almost lascivious — flowers never fail to conjure up memories of other Springs, other gardens. What I love about peonies is also what I hate about them: these beauties can’t seem to hold their blowzy heads up, even in the best of weather.

Though many gardeners seem unaware of them, there are other kinds of peonies which don’t have this problem. I’m not talking about tree peonies which literally grow into a woody, small tree with dinner-plate size flowers. I mean the progeny of wild peonies from Japan, Turkey, Mongolia, the Himalayas and other romantic locations. Sometimes they’re also referred to as species, mountain or woodland peonies.

Paeonia obvata willmottiae, of Chinese origin, has cerise pink flowers that glow against its crisp green foliage.

Whatever you call them, these peonies are members of a complex family and I find it’s easy to get confused, if not entirely lost, when trying to figure out their parentage and origins. Suffice it to say that most of these are very early blooming, herbaceous peonies that die back each year just like the more well-known border peonies (Paeonia lactiflora). But many of these peonies can take a bit of shade, like that at the edge of a woodland.

Most are single flowered with petals that are silky with a faint crinkled edge reminiscent of the deckle on handmade paper. They range in color from white through mauve to pink and intense reds.

This woodland peony, Paeonia obvata var. alba, emerges with bronze foliage.

I’m currently growing five varieties: Paeonia anomala, P. japonica, P. obvata var. alba, P. obvata willmottiae, and P. vetchii. The obvatas and japonica (planted in 2006) all flowered for the first time in the spring of 2008; all on May 7th. The anomala and vetchii plants are still too young to flower; they need at least another year to mature.

Paeonia obvata var. alba

I’m still very much in the process of learning about these plants. For example, one article that I read noted that Paeonia obvata var. alba is often confused with P. japonica which has similar flowers but blooms later. I definitely agree that the flowers are similar but both my japonica and obvata bloomed at the same time this year and last. In fact, they opened at practically the same instant.

Paeonia japonica in bud.

The flowers of both are ethereally beautiful but the leaves of Paeonia obvata var. alba are extraordinary. They emerge the most amazing soft copper color and stay that way until just after the plant blooms. Now they are slowly turning to green which is the color the leaves of all my other peonies have been from the first.

But as beautiful as the leaves and flowers are, the obvata seed pods are a brilliant blue-black and as Klehm's Song Sparrow catalog notes they  “glisten against a red backdrop.” Quite a spectacle, I can assure you!

The petals of Paeonia japonica flowers are silky white with a faint crinkled edge. 

Alas, you will have to do a little searching to find these peonies. Even the Klehm family, who have been breeding peonies for generations, only offer a couple of varieties of such peonies — and then not every year. In 2007 they had P. japonica and P. obvata in their Song Sparrow catalog and on their Web site, but I could not find either of them listed this year.

Plant Delights Nursery, another of my favorite sources for interesting and unusual plants via the mail, has P. japonica and two varieties of P. obvata in their 2009 offerings.

Paeonia japonica

 

I’ve discovered most of these less common peonies at Seneca Hill Perennials, a nursery in Oswego, N.Y. with a terrific assortment of plants. For example, the 2009 catalog (available on-line only) lists 6 Hepaticas, 17 Cyclamen (a particular specialty), and about two dozen species peonies. For many of its listings, Seneca Hill offers younger and smaller plants that make for an economical purchase. Your credit card takes less of a hit but the catch is that you may have to wait a couple of years for these plants to attain flowering size.

Paeonia obvata var. alba (both photos directly above)

Prices, being tied to size and age of plants, also vary widely. My 2005 Seneca Hill P. vetchii cost $8 and the anomalas were $12 each. The 2006 P. obvata var. alba was $10 from Seneca Hill while Klehm’s P. obvata cost $29.95. It is worth noting that both plants are of a similar size now and both bloomed for the first time the same year.

Paeonia obvata var. alba (above) and Paeonia japonica (below) going to seed.

My advice is to simply go looking to see what you can find and then buy what you like. I’m completely smitten with these beauties whose delicate looks belie their hardiness. I can’t do better than turn to Reginald Farrer who captured these unsung plants so perfectly, “Let all those peonies that are too wild and small to cope with the bloated beauties of the border, have their acknowledged place in the garden, in some fitting corner of deep hollow or high cool ledge.”

Don’t despair if you have neither hollows nor ledges. My peonies are doing just fine at the edge of a clump of old Austrian pine trees and a young Washington Hawthorn.

Parts of this column about species peonies previously appeared under my byline in The Capital Times.

Madison memo: Plant sales ahead!

I don't know about your town, but one of the annual rites of Spring here in Madison are plant sales. I mean the ones sponsored by garden groups not commercial nurseries. They are a chance to buy local and sustainable in the best sense of those words. This is the week they kick off with two of the most prestigious: 

Olbrich Botanical Gardens' Plant Sale with the Pros: This sale is known for three things: fabulous selection of tried and true plants mixed with cutting edge introductions; on-site advice from Olbrich staff and local experts, including help creating containers; and crummy weather. I always volunteer for this sale (come say hi on Sat. between 9 a.m. and 1 p.m.). I usually work the shade perennials which are under a tent to protect them from the sun. More often than not, there is no sun; it's cold, windy and threatening rain! Those who've worked this sale know to dress in layers and make sure the top one is waterproof. Still, I'm hoping for the best!  Friday, May 8, members only from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m.; open to the public from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. Public sale continues on Saturday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. See Olbrich's Web site for more details.

Friends of the Arboretum Native Plant Sale: This is THE place to find native plants with over 100 species of grasses, woodland, prairie, and savanna plants, trees and shrubs on offer this Saturday under the big tents next to the UW-Madison Arboretum Visitor Center, from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. Click here for details. The UW-Madison Arboretum — one of our local treasures — is celebrating 75 years in 2009 with a number of special events. Since 1934, the Arb has been "restoring the land, advancing ecological restoration and fostering Aldo Leopold's land ethic," as the Web site puts it. It's also a great place for a walk in the Spring.

Jeff Epping, the Director of Horticulture at Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison, wears his "Pro" apron and conducts a sale at a past Olbrich plant sale.

Also noteworthy:

Westside Garden Club: I love this sale and never miss it. They sell "choice perennials, specialty annuals and herbs," as a recent email from one of the members put it. Many of these plants are from member gardens so you know they will grow here. They tend to be nice size offerings at reasonable prices. This sale is also in the gardens and driveway of a lovely house (3918 Nakoma Rd., just west of Thoreau School) in one of Madison's older neighborhoods, so a visit is always a treat because of the setting. The sale is Friday, May 8 from 8 a.m to 6 p.m. and Saturday from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. LIke most local clubs, the proceeds of the sale are donated to garden related civic organizations and projects.

I checked my garden journal to see what I bought last year at the Westside sale and discovered I spent $48 (including $6 on a pair of gloves that looked interesting). I had forgotten what I bought so the list refreshed my memory and I can tell you everything is up and looking good. I bought a number of different kinds of primroses and they have come up in big, healthy clumps — very exciting. I'm guessing they may be in flower by the time the sale rolls around this weekend.

Shorewood Hills Garden Club Annual Cocoa Mulch and Plant Sale: Saturday, May 9 from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the Shorewood Village Hall, 810 Shorewood Blvd. Call 238-4860 or 236-9374 for more information. A good group and their event should prove the same.

Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society Plant Sale: Saturday, May 16 from 9 a.m. to noon at the West Madison Agricultural Research Station, 8502 Mineral Point Rd. This is a stellar sale! The plants come from members' gardens, as is the case with many club sales. But this group includes some incredible gardeners and thus the sale always includes some unusual plants but you have to get there early. 

The last couple of years I've bought small Korean maples (Acer pseudosieboldiana) for about $10-12. Even small, they make an immediate statement in the garden. Already this spring, the trees I purchased at last year's sale have started to put on growth. How can you beat that price for a tree that has dramatic fall color, disease resistance, hardiness and small stature perfect for urban gardens?