Each Little World

Crazy combos

The unusual weather we've had this Spring has made for some strange combinations as plants bloomed early and off schedule. First there were daffodils and clematis blooming together, and now I've got my earliest yellow daylily (Hemerocallis 'Gold Dust') open at the same time as yellow Trilliums (Trillium luteum) and an Epimedium (Epimedium grandiflorum sp. koreana 'La Rocaille') that is now putting on a second show of flowers after the first flush.

Paeonia japonica

I posted a photo of the buds of one of my woodland peonies, Paeonia japonica, just pushing up in time for Foliage Follow-up on March 16. By the same time the following week the plant was almost fully up and covered with big fat flower buds — 24 at a quick glance. 

Then the temperatures dropped and we had a bunch of cool, cloudy days and an inch of rain the last week of the month. I am not unhappy with this more traditional spring-like weather since there's nothing more enjoyable than watching a big clump of peonies slowly unfurl in the early spring garden. 

Even though April temperatures have dipped down below freezing a number of times, the buds were not harmed and the flowers began to open on April 9 — a good month earlier than in 2011. Looking back to 2007, this particular peony typically opens around Mother's Day, but bloomed on April 23 in 2010. I am guessing that this year's early bloom date will be a record that stands for a number of years. 

Bloomin' Bergenias

I've been growing a few varieties of Bergenia cordifolia for years and only recently ever had them bloom. The last few years, it seems like I notice a couple of fat flowerheads — and just as they start to uncurl — the bunnies bite them clean off. This year when I saw more flowerbuds pushing up than ever before, I determined to cage the plants so I could enjoy the blooms. I never did get around to that chore but it looks as though I may not be plagued with hungry rabbits this season as the plants are in full flower with nary a notice of any nipping. 

The one with paler pink flowers is most likely Bergenia crassifolia and the darker one is either 'Bressingham Ruby' or 'Eden's Dark Margin.'

Cold jitters

In a normal Spring, I wouldn't worry about overnight low temperatures dropping into the 20s. Things in the garden would just be beginning to push up in the first week of April, so nothing would be in danger from sudden frosts. But with this year's unseasonably warm temperatures all through March, the garden is way ahead of schedule. The martagon lilies are up a foot; my rockii peony is about to bloom for the first time this year; the woodland peonies are in full bud and starting to open; and the clematis has a record number of buds.

So the last two nights I've gone into the garden to try to protect what I can — which is not really that much. I've used old plastic plant pots and big 5-gallon plastic buckets to cover the lilies and the smaller peonies. I covered the big clumps of lilies and big peonies with old sheets draped over wire cages and bamboo stakes. Then I held the coverings in place with clothes' pins or bricks so things wouldn't blow around in the breeze.

The temperature was 28 degrees F. (-2.22C) when I got up at 7 a.m. this morning. When it rose to 34, I went out and removed my protective coverings. But I left them nearby to use again next week when it looks like the weather pattern will continue. I will hate to lose any plants but at least I am not a farmer or orchardist whose livlihood will take a hit from these low temps. We've already had a truncated maple syrup season from the hot weather; now farmers and gardenrs must contend with the cold.  

Image No. 1: Peony Coral Sunset under a bucket; No. 2: Clumps of martagon lilies in the driveway  border; Nos. 3 & 4: Covering a huge clump of martagons with a sheet draped over bamboo stakes; in the foreground a smaller clump of liles has been caged and covered with a sheet.

Madison memo: Olbrich begins mulch sales early — today!

Double click on this poster to enlarge it so you can read all the details.

Prairie burn

We have a number of country friends who are each restoring prairies on their land. In the spring, they often send out a call for assistance to help with the burning of the prairie to control weeds and invasives. Here are a few photos of a burn that Mark assisted with at the end of last week out near Mineral Point.

Galloping Hellebores

Our unseasonably warm Spring brought the Hellebores into bloom earlier than ever. But the same warm temperatures, unfortunately, shorthened their bloom span. They exploded open and now it's virtually over in just a bit over a week. We did manage to capture most of them since this year every one that I'm growing finally flowered, so I could figure out who's who. 

The first three Hellebores are all unnamed varieties of the Royal Heritage strain.

Helleborus orientalis 'Ivory Prince.' This one grows on a slope above a wall so I can actually see and enjoy the flowers while I'm standing up! And it's facing east so it just shines in the early morning light.

Helleborus x hybridus 'Mrs. Betty Ranicar' is listed as fully double — which she is — but with white flowers. This has always bloomed blush pink and seems to get darker as it ages. Is it really Betty or someone trying to imitate her? A pretty flower no matter the name.

Helleborus x hybridus 'Mardi Gras Black.' I'm a sucker for black flowers and this is a stunner: great color, great shape. A real gem.

Helleborus orientalis 'Sympathy,' another single flowered beauty. She'd look lovely consorting with the black Hellebores but, alas, they live on opposite sides of the garden.

Helleborus x hybridus 'Kingston Cardinal' is a Dan Hinkley selection. Layers of petals make her a bit top-heavy, especially after a rainfall, which is when we took this photo.

I have a whole list of other Hellebores I'm lusting after. The good news is that I have two locations where we will be creating new gardens and they are both slopes. So I can plant the new varieties where I will be able to see the flowers! And when they're done blooming, I'll have the sturdy green groundcover I want for most of the season. 

Sweet Hepatica

The name Hepatica always reminds me of one of those women's names from colonial New England, names like Hepzibah. I picture her as someone who can stand up to whatever the elements send her way. She's not a show-off but has a certain quiet winsome charm. The same can be said of Hepaticas. I currently have three on order from Plant Delights Nursery. I also planted three unusual ones from Hillside nursery last year but none has yet appeared this Spring. This little charmer below is just one of the nameless seedlings in my garden, but she's a delicate lilac rather than the bright blue-violet of my largest and oldest clump. 

Good morning, Beatrix Farrand!

Our neighbors to the west of us have a big old Forsythia on their side of the fence. As it is in the "junk corner" of their back yard, they don't bother to prune it. And when they wanted to prune the branches growing through the fence into our garden, we said, "No!" 

In a cold spring, it may not flower much and we just enjoy the sprawling green branches by the fence. But in a year like this one, with a mild winter and a warm early spring, this plant is stunning. We keep going outside to enjoy the huge screaming yellow blossoms up close. 

To give you a sense of just how big this "shrub" is, the fence is 8' high and the gate at the right is 6' high. So this old Forsythia is closer to 15' high and wide. 

This particular Forsythia is 'Beatrix Farrand,' a 1944 introduction by Harvard's Arnold Arboretum. It is listed as a dense, upright shrub with a mature size of 8-10' x 8-10'. So this beauty is clearly more than mature, she's a grande dame — like Farrand herself! 

If you are not familiar with her, Beatrix Farrand was a renowned landscape architect and one of the founding eleven members — and the only woman — of the American Society of Landscape Architects. Her most well-know remaining landscape design is probably Dumbarton Oaks.

Spring green

Another week of above-average temps are currently predicted, along with rain, for our area. That means everyone's grass will green up. But I've been enjoying brilliant color in the garden with the many patches of moss we have. Once the snow melts the moss is an eye-catching electric green. 

It's growing in sun, in shade, on damp clay soil, on old grindstones and on rocks in the pond. The only downside is that the critters toss it around when they are looking for bugs. Then it's like a puzzle: putting the right pieces back in the empty muddy holes.