Each Little World

The white garden

It's the rare gardener who has not been seduced by Vita Sackville-West's famed White Garden at Sissinghurst Castle. Certainly I count myself among their numbers. But though I love white flowers, I like too many other colors to be disciplined enough to limit myself to a one-color garden. Instead I let my white flowers act as dramatic accents. 

A recent article in The Guardian newspaper about The White Garden mentioned that many of its plants are too large for most modern gardens. This full-size, almost 60-year-old McIntosh apple tree is my equivalent. It's huge and scents the entire garden when covered with blossoms as it was this week.

The view of the tree from our neighbor's garden.

Equally fragrant, equally beautiful and even more dramatic in bloom is the diminutive crabapple, Malus sargentii 'Tina'

Tina has red buds which open white. She was blooming in the front garden while the big apple was in flower in the back garden.

I do have one small bed that's mostly white flowers including a white bleeding heart, Pulmonaria 'Sissinghurst White' and this Korean azalea, Rhododendron yedoense poukhanense 'Alba'

This Paeonia rockii from Seneca Hill has buds like giant marshmallows and massive ruffled flowers.

I've had good luck with foxgloves and just added this one, Digitalis purpurea 'Pam's Choice'

Primula sieboldii invaded by self-sown Trilliums

This massive Trillium grandiflorum was in the garden when we moved here.

One of the tiny "bells" from our Carolina Silverbell tree, Halesia tetrapetra. The falling petals carpet everything around the tree when they come down. We've surprised a lot of visitors with our "flowering" pine tree.

 

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day: 06.15.2011

Last week's record high temperatures brought everything into bloom, and the rain and cooler weather that followed has kept them going just a bit longer. Here's what happening in our garden for June Bloom Day. To see what's blooming in gardens around the world, visit Carol at May Dreams Gardens.

The first three plants — Geranium cantabrigiense 'Biokovo,' Peony 'Soft Salmon Joy' and Iris 'Henry's White' — probably won't last beyond today.

Small flowers with a lot of impact: Purple Campanula portenschlagiana and pink Dianthus carthusianorum.

The color of this Digitalis purpurea 'Apricot' has never matched its name, at least to my eye. But with a flower this spectacular, who's complaining?

Long-time garden favorites: Unknown Heuchera whose long stems of pink bells are at their glory, Astilbe arendsii 'Granat/Garnet' with common chives and the huge globes of Allium 'Star of Persia.'

My only rose (Rosa rugosa var. albo-plena) is in too much shade to produce many flowers but those that do appear are achingly fragrant. It's growing on the lot line with my neighbor's Weigela. 

The early dayliles have been open for a week or more: mini yellows 'Cricket' and 'Golden Chimes' and the schoolbus yellow of either 'Gold Dust' or H. dumortieri. Its spent flowers look almost like confetti so I don't feel too bad about not deadheading.

And the always amazing Epimedium grandiflorum ssp. koreana 'La Rocaille' continues to bloom long after the rest of the Epimediums have ended their show for the season.

Patterned plant pairs

The garden is exploding with lush new growth everywhere you look. We're busy pruning, weeding and trying to be "in the moment" so we can enjoy all this beauty.

Unknown evergreen (back) with dwarf Alpine currant hedge (Ribes alpinum 'Green Mound')

Martagon lilies (Lilium martagon 'Mrs. R. O. Backhouse') with Rodgersia (Rodgersia podophylla 'Rotlaub')

Bloodgood maple (Acer palmatum atropurpureum) with Dawn Redwood (Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Miss Grace')

Willow fencing with ornamental asparagus (Asparagus officianalis var. pseudoscaber 'Spitzenschleier')

Curly wood sedge (Carex rosea) with Hosta (Hosta 'Sundance')

Yellow-flowered Lamium (Lamiastrum 'Herman's Pride) with an unknown fern

Farewell Seneca Hill

Unlike most years, this spring I only received one shipment of mail-order plants. They came from Seneca Hill Perennials in Ithaca, NY, where I've ordered at least three dozen plants over the last five years. In that time Seneca Hill has become one of my favorite sources for plants with a history, a story or unusual characteristics. It is one of only three nurseries that are actually in my categories list by name. 

This spring I ordered this Helleborus niger from Seneca Hill. It will supposedly bloom at Thanksgiving in my Zone 5 garden. (Seneca Hill Website photo)

Not long ago, Seneca Hill owner Ellen Hornig spoke to the Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society about plants of the mountains of South Africa, which she is raising successfully in her Zone 5 garden. By chance, I was sitting next to Hornig before her presentation and had a chance to tell her how much I appreciated the choice and quality of plants she was offering. 

A Rhodie from the late Roslyn Nursery. 

Not long after my plants from Seneca Hill arrived, Hornig sent out an email to friends and customers announcing she is ending her mail order business. She told us her husband was diagnosed with Parkinson's twelve years ago at the time she went full-time in the nursery and quit her academic job. He supported her through building the business but now his health demands her support. Hornig is not quite sure what she will do next, but it must surely be something simpler and less stressful. I can only imagine that this has been a decision that's been as painful and difficult to make as it's been for her loyal customers to accept.

The lacy groundcover is Vancouveria, a plant from Roslyn Nursery, that I've never found for sale locally. 

I will miss browsing Hornig's wonderful on-line catalog as much as I will miss the opportunity of adding her plants to my garden. I hope this change offers her the time and energy she needs to help her husband with this most difficult disease. Every time I see a Seneca Hill offering in my garden, I'll think of Ellen and offer a silent thanksgiving for all the years of joy she's brought me — and all the years of joy I will continue to get from her plants.

 

A toad lily whose leaves make flowers superfluous. It's from Plant Delights Nursery and they always have a mid-summer sale!

Now comes Tony Avent's e-newsletter for his nursery, Plant Delights, for June. Avent noted Hornig's news as well as pointing out that Barry Yinger is closing his superb Asiatica Nursery in Pennsylvania. Avent also noted the death of Bob Popham, co-owner of Fairweather Gardens in N.J. He then went on to say that mail order nurseries seem to have a life expectancy of 10-15 years. My garden is filled with great plants from the late-and-still-lamented Heronswood and Roslyn nurseries.

Ellen Hornig in her garden at Seneca Hill with one of the Arisemas for which she is noted. (Seneca Hill Website photo)

If you haven't ever ordered from an independent specialty mail-order nursery, do it now. These are the folks who go plant hunting and hybridizing and bring all of us the fabulous firsts. But without our business, their businesses can't survive. My garden would be a shadow of itself without the incredible range of local independent nurseries I can shop at in person. But it's the special mail-order treats that make it most memorable for me.

Northwind Perennial Farm rocks!

After our shopping spree at Klehm's Song Sparrow, we took advantage of our proximity to Northwind Perennial Farm to head down the highway to Burlington, Wis., to visit this highly-regarded nursery, located in and around a 19th century dairy barn. The three business partners have a combined 80 years of horticultural experience, which is clearly evident as you walk through Northwind's stunning display gardens. 

I've been fortunate to hear one of the owners — Roy Diblik — speak a number of times in Madison, and he knows his plants. For those of you who've visited Lurie Gardens in Chicago's Millenium Park and been impressed with that landscape, you need to know that Roy grew and installed 15,000 plants for the project. That alone is enough to give you a sense of his expertise and Northwind's reputation. 

We took tons of photos at Northwind and this group are about the rock work throughout the gardens. Lots of practical ideas here along with a healthy dose of inspiration!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mark — who's done his share of building stone walls and sculpture in our garden — pointed out that creating a wall with the irregular round shapes of Wisconsin field stone is particularly difficult. Thus making this serpentine wall at Northwind quite an achievement.

Flower Factory

The recent warm weather has the gardening season off to such an early start that I was compelled to visit my favorite local nursery on Saturday. I couldn't help myself; I actually went to the Flower Factory on opening day at the opening hour. It's the kind of thing I rarely do, preferring to avoid crowds and chaos and traffic. But I've had the FF catalog marked up with my wish list for so many weeks that I couldn't wait any longer.

One of my favorite display gardens at The Flower Factory is this old farm building with a "green roof." This photo was taken at high summer; on Saturday the roof was just beginning to wake up and the surrounding plants had barely broken ground.   

It was a lovely morning for a country drive: volunteers in chartreuse vests were picking up litter along the highway and I could see folks in the bleachers watching a soccer game. When I turned off the highway, I drove between farm fields turned over to reveal the dark rich soil that southern Wisconsin is known for. As I pulled into the Flower Factory only a few minutes after 9 a.m., I could see there were already lots of cars and shoppers. I was in such a fever to get going that I barely glanced at their always inspiring display gardens, containers and ponds. 

 

I grabbed one of Flower Factory's traditional red wagons and a copy of their locator list and began a systematic perusal of the hoop houses. I had my list in hand to aid in looking for the absolute must-haves first. Even thought FF has a large and knowledgeable staff — all wearing funky hats to identify them — I used their printed list to find most of the plants I was looking for. FF has 3800+ selections for 2010, so having a printed list where I could look up a plant by name and be told the number of the exact hoop house where it was located, made my job (and theirs) much easier.  

 

I was about to ask for help locating a fern when I ran into Nancy Nedveck, one-half of the couple who owns Flower Factory. As it happens, Nancy was holding a flat of that very fern when I stopped to chat. You can see from these pictures that I filled two small wagons (they also have a larger size available) with mostly foliage plants. The one floral exception was primroses. In the FF catalog, David Nedveck noted that after seeing and hearing Pam Eveleigh talk about primroses at the Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society, they were inspired to increase their primrose selection by 15 new species. I fell prey to a few of these new additions.

 

Just as I joined the line to pay for treasures, a FF staffer opened another register a few feet away in the Hosta Hut, making me suddenly first in this new line. Before I finished my transaction, an eager line had already formed behind my red wagons. But everything was moving quickly and smoothly given that it was opening day.

 

As I was walking to my car, I ran into a friend from the Hardy Plant Society who pointed out that one of my new plants has been invasive in her garden. Still I know that how plants behave can vary widely (and wildly) from garden to garden. Once I got my loot home, I made plant ID cards for each new purchase. On a 3"x5" index card, I wrote down where I got the plant (namely Flower Factory), the date and price, a description of the plant and any important cultural information the catalog provided. I will note the location where I plant it on the back of the card when I actually get them in the ground.

The FF catalog uses a letter code to give you all sorts of extra info about each plant in the very limited space in their jam-packed catalog. By checking those codes, I discovered that the wonderful Hepatica acutiloba 'Silver Leaf' that I bought last year — and was buying three more — is tolerant of Juglans toxin from Black Walnut trees. Now I may need to get even more plants since neighbors have Black Walnuts on two sides of our property right over the lot line and I'm always looking for things that can survive in those parts of the garden.

The Flower Factory is ten minutes outside of Madison but worth a much longer drive. They also sell plants every Saturday at the Dane Country Farmers Market on the Capitol Square in downtown Madison, for a different shopping experience. FF has an amazing selection of plants all season long and if you wait a bit longer, you can enjoy seeing many of the plants they sell shown to advantage in their display gardens.  

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.