Thursday, July 16, 2009

A flower's appeal is in its contradictions

... so delicate in form yet strong in fragrance, so small in size yet big in beauty, so short in life yet long on effect. ~Adabella Radici

(Cherry red and very tall)

Plant of the month. Thank you Tina at In the Garden for suggesting this topic. Usually it would be impossible for me to choose only one plant for an entire month. Not so this year. The daylilies are really outdoing themselves in this unusually wet July. I may regret this choice in a week. My volcano phlox is about to bloom and I can't say enough good things about this phlox. Toward the end of July another phlox, David, should be covered in snowy blooms. If at the end of July you see another plant or two spotlighted as the plant of the month, don't be surprised--I'm fickle;)


(One of my favorites this deep wine colored small plant.)

June has fled, but this year the weather remains relatively cool and wet. Record rainfalls recorded for the month of June and we experienced a record low temperature on July 7 when the thermometer stalled in the mid sixties. Unusual weather for a prairie state but beloved by almost every plant in my garden.


Many years ago I ordered a 'collection' of daylilies from Gilbert Wild. It contained about 15 varieties, pinks, peachy blends, purples, yellows, deep burgundies and cherry reds. Over the years they have been moved around and divided and their names are lost in the mists and the mud and the winter snows. These are all older varieties that don't rebloom. Even so, for a few weeks in July they take center stage.

(Kwanso with its triple tiered bloom)

Occasionally I'll give away daylily plant or division. Usually I just dig up another patch of grass and plant the surplus daylilies that have become too crowded. They are much less trouble to tend than grass, they have no serious pests or disease here. Breaking off the hundreds of spent blooms is the extent of the care they require.



The daylily season really starts in June with golden Stella outshining the summer sun and continuing well into July. Siloam Double Classic follows in mid June and it too blooms on into July.

(Siloam Double Classic)


(Prairie Blue Eyes)

In the last five years, I've begun to lust after the newer doubles and pie curst edged types, all rebloomers. First I added Siloam Double Classic, which is a fantastic bloomer. Night Embers and Moses' Fire came three years ago. The last two are red doubles and disappointing in my garden. Neither has a high bud count and the flower color is muddy on both.

I just placed my 2009 order with Wild for three new plants:





An almost white
single, Joan Senior,

















(Gilbert Wild photos)




a bright yellow
double, Siloam Peony Display,










and Sabine Baur, a gorgeous peachy cream with a deep purple eye and heavy purple pie crust edging. Isn't she pretty. (Gilbert H. Wild Photos)


I'll have to wait until next July to see these bloom in my garden.

Last and certainly least, is my very own daylily born and bred on my farm. I'm not a daylily hybridizer, never even thought about trying to create a new variety. This was just one of those things that happen in the garden. In the midst of my Kwanza patch, where no hybrid daylily has ever been planted--up popped a creamy white single bloom (similar to Joan Senior which I ordered last week and never grew before). This has to be a daylily that started here from seed and wasn't noticed until it bloomed. So, since it's my very own, original daylily I'm going to name it Plain Jane;)

Monday, July 13, 2009

The countless wings that from the infinite Make such a noiseless tumult over it... ~ Robert Frost



I stepped into a patch of purple milkweed (Asclepius purpurescens) to get a few pictures and then stood absolutely still as its wonderful fragrance rose up around me. It must have been a trick of the weather, just the right humidity and temperature, but it seemed the entire field was fragrant with the sweet smell.


These plants can grow as tall as six feet but seldom reach that height. Along the roadsides and in fields, mowers at some point always cut them back. The one above in my pasture is about four feet tall now.



I've decided to grow a few of these in my gravel garden. I wouldn't recommend anyone turn them loose near a group of perennials. They have a very long taproot and also spread by horizontal roots which could cause a problem if they aren't isolated. On the other hand, friends of mine grow them in a butterfly garden with mixed perennials and annuals and they remain quite polite and get along well with their neighbors. They would certainly work well in a bed with mostly annuals.



The flowers are really lovely and did I mention the fragrance, sweet, intense, maybe a hint of honeysuckle and vanilla.

On my farm, the pasture and hedgerows have many milkweed plants but in urban areas where there are few, growing a couple plants in your yard will likely bring you monarch butterflies. Milkweed (there are over a hundred native species) are the only plant the monarch lays its eggs on. You may well find yourself the host of monarch caterpillars (which will eat the leaves of the plant but not kill it). Bees, butterflies and approximately 400 species of insects use the common milkweed as a food source, so planting a few should make your yard a very popular dining area.

I've read that dead heading the blooms before they set seed will cause the plant to produce more flowers, perhaps as many as three flushes in a season.

I'll direct sow seed this fall where I want the plants to grow. With the long taproot, milkweed resents being moved. The seed needs a period of cold weather before it sprouts so planting in the fall will work very well, otherwise I'd have to put the seed in the freezer for a couple months. I have an excellent, sunny location where the plants can grow and be enjoyed, but they can't get tangled with the perennials.


From somewhere
a froth of seeds drifted by touched
with gold in the last light
of a lost day, going with
the wind as they always did.
~ Philip Levine's poem Milkweed





Asclepius tuberosa (above) is another form of milkweed and one that grows well with other perennials. It requires well drained soil and full sun but does not spread beyond a tight clump. It grew very easily from the seeds I purchased and started indoors. Some I transplanted near a patch of yellow daylilies and others went near some nepeta. I've read that the tuberosa is the variety preferred by butterflies. I've also read that it is short lived but self seeds if allowed.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: Matthew 6:28




I haven't done a Skywatch for a long, long time. (Click on the link above to be transported to some of the world's lovliest skies.)

Last week our skies were dark and ominous but there is a lot of color and movement in skies like these. Gray skies make for good photographs. Not just cloud photos, the colors on any photo are truer and detail isn't washed out by the bright sunlight.

For two weeks I have been assigned the task of medicating my sister's cat while she and her family vacation. Kitty has to have a daily dose of Prosac and she doesn't like it. Since I'm the bringer of the nasty stuff, she doesn't like me either;)

Driving the 15 miles to Monroe Center everyday might have been a tedious chore, but in fact I've really enjoyed these trips. The countryside is lush and green, beautiful houses, scenic views and wild flowers everywhere. Who knew there are so many pretty back roads all going to tiny Monroe Center?


As far as I could see down this little country road, tawny daylilies blanketed the fence row. What a lovely sight. Some folks call them ditch lilies, but whatever you call them it was a pleasure to see them there. I always wonder how they came to be in the fields. Perhaps some farmer's bride brought them from her mother's garden. A dependable flower to begin her own garden in a new home.

When I first moved into my farmhouse there were patches of daylilies dotting the hedgerows and fencelines. The ones on my farm were a little unique. The flowers were doubles and triples, amazingly beautiful. I dug clumps and brought them home to start my gardens.

(Kwanso from 2006 photo)


Siloam Double Classic is one of the daylilies I grow in my own garden today. Hybridizers have made some wonderful strides with daylilies. Almost every imaginable color, diamond dusted, doubles, spiders, and ruffled edges like old fashioned crinoline petticoats.

Double Classic is one of my early bloomers right behind Stella d'oro and Hyperion. The display goes on for weeks well into the heat of July. No pests or diseases and SDC increases fairly quickly. The flowers are variable and some of the first few are singles. Delicious peachy color, ruffled edges and a glowing yellow throat are some of the things I love about SDC. If the beauty alone isn't enough, she has a sweet fragrance.

Have a great weekend. Heres hoping everyone of you turn a corner and come upon a field of wild flowers to brighten your day.

Monday, July 6, 2009

White ... is not a mere absence of colour; it is a shining and affirmative thing... ~ G. K. Chesterton

Way up here in the frozen north I get a bad case of zone envy from time to time. Seeing all the crepe myrtles, lace cap hydrangeas, China roses, and azaleas on garden blogger's sites makes me nostalgic for the years I lived in northern Alabama and grew those wonderful plants.

Not being able to grow the different hydrangeas is especially frustrating this time of year. I have the lovely Annabell and she is beginning to bloom, still a little more variety would be nice. Then, coming home last evening I caught a glimpse of the common elderberry that makes it's home in pastures and in hedgerows all over our county. This is as nice as any lacecap and it blooms at approximately the same time as many hydrangea. Elderberry blooms may not come in pinks and blues, but the flowers are as large as my hand and they have the added attraction of producing fruit for the birds.




I believe these will serve the purpose nicely and carry me through until Annabell blooms. Maybe this year I'll even grab a few berries and try making a pie.




I'm considering adding one of the hybrid elderberries to my yard. Sambucus Black Lace would be a good choice with its finely cut black foliage to add interest even when the shrub is not in bloom. Black Lace will also do a nice job substituting for the Japanese maples I can't grow. If anyone of you grow any of the Sambucus in your garden, please let me now what your experience has been.

A little folklore about he elderberry. In ancient times the elderberry was considered charmed and anyone who burned its wood would be plagued by bad luck. Children whispered stories of unlucky folks who fell asleep under the elderberry and were carried away to the realm of the faeries. Flutes made from the wood created enchanted music and charms worn round the neck would ward off evil. Sounds like a useful bush to have, just don't set your lounge chairs beneath it or you could fall asleep and wake up with the faeries:)

Thursday, July 2, 2009

'Tis the star-spangled banner - O long may it wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. ~ Francis Scott Keys

The original Star Spangled Banner, battered and burned after the battle of Ft McHenry. This is our original flag that inspired Frances Scott Keys to write our beautiful anthem. Everybody have a happy and safe fourth of July weekend.




Well, it was June 25th when I wrote this post and took these photos. It will be July when it publishes. I can't believe how the season is flying past. I had dozens of goals I sincerely meant to accomplish but it is looking like many of them will never happen. As we get older the seasons get shorter. It's a shame because we appreciate them much more in our later years than we ever did when we were young. In my youth each day was spent anticipating an event or a thing that would come tomorrow or next week or next year. Now I enjoy today and look back on all those yesterdays and wonder why I squandered so many.

Any day the Japanese beetles will be here so I must treasure my roses up until the last moment.


The Austin rose Graham Thomas was the first Austin I added to my garden many years ago. The pale yellow blooms look nice with the vivid gold Stellas behind.



When it first opened on a cloudy morning, Graham was a lovely deep color but he quickly faded to a buttery yellow after a few hours in the blazing sun.

Another yellow flower, but his one so very delicate.





It's late for columbines but I found this blooming at my favorite greenhouse. It was purchased as a gift but I couldn't resist getting a few photos while it sat in my garden waiting to go to its new home. What a beautiful, ethereal bloom. Hopefully I can get a few seeds to bring home to my garden.




Below is Double Delight, the most photographed rose in my garden. No two blooms are ever alike.



The red on the petals is akin to suntan. The more/stronger the sun, the more and darker the red. In addition to the beautiful colors , this is a very fragrant Hybrid Tea hence the name Double Delight.




This trellis holds two clematis, Multi Blue and the Comtesse de Bouchaud. The Comtesse is an older variety possibly bred as long hundred years ago. A strong grower and she blooms for an extended time. Multi Blue was a disappointment. Alone on the trellis he was wispy and stingy with his blooms. Together they make a pleasing combination.



From William Radler, the man who brought us the Knockout rose, this is Carefree Sunshine. I like it better. Very disease resistant, and always in bloom. On mine the foliage has an ever so slightly bluish hue. In this photo the rose is growing with a unnamed purple clematis.


So as Robert Harrick reminds us in his somewhat cruel poem.


Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

Monday, June 29, 2009

"Long about knee-deep in June, 'bout the time strewberries melt on the vine." ~ James Witcomb Riley


This week my favorite color is melon.



I absolutely love these Asiatic lilies. They bloom for a relatively short time but they will always have a spot in my garden. Almost the same color, maybe a little lighter than melon is the rose Golden Unicorn.



Golden Unicorn is a Griffin Buck rose developed at the University of Iowa especially for the prairie states with our extremes of temperature. It has to be one of my very favorite roses. A heavy bloomer, not especially prone to blackspot, and a compact, upright plant that doesn't exceed 30-inches in my garden. Golden Unicorn fades to a pleasing buff shade as it ages.



Geranium sanguineum Max Frei, deep magenta pink, cup shaped flowers in late spring/early summer, then sporadically throughout the season. This is the geranium for everyone who doesn't like Rozanne's lazy, relaxed ways. This plant never sprawls, it forms a neat and tidy rounded clump and and it maintains it all season. Mine is five years old and less than a foot tall 18-inches wide. Admittedly it has stiff competition from the lilac roots so it might be a little larger in another spot.


Sweet William purchased a couple years ago and now reseeding here and there. This stays very low growing, under 12- inches and compact. Between my heavy mulch and my compulsive weeding, seedlings don't stand much of a chance. I need to be more careful in areas where I want annuals and biennials to return and increase.





A large clump of screaming red Asiatics. My pastel flowers fade into the background when these lilies and the Stellas are in bloom.

"I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June. ~ L. M. Montgomery





Lots of people don't like lamb's ear, especially when it blooms. I love it. The combination of furry leaves and lovely pink flowers looks perfect among my roses. Unfortunately when the weather gets hot and dry it melts out and requires a good deal of clean up. If I can manage to cut it back before it begins to go to seed, it does much better. Large patches of it are tedious to maintain but that soft silver is worth the trouble. Lately I found that lamb's ear does quite well in open shade, however it doesn't bloom there.

Today, last but far from least, I'm doing the 'Tomato Dance'. German Johnson has several nice fruit pretty close to ripening. I know, sometimes green tomatoes will sit there forever, not growing and not ripening. I just have a feeling...soon. The first tomato of the season is a perfect moment to be savored;)




This year I didn't plant a large variety of tomatoes:
Five Kellog's Breakfast, because friends told me it was 'the best'.
One German Johnson.
One Mortgage Lifter.
One Black Krim, one of my favorites and a lovely pinkish purple color.
One Super Sweet 100 a red cherry tomato.
One Mr Stripey, which I later heard tastes awful;)
One Celebration, not an heirloom but an early variety.
I searched all over for Sweet Million, the sweetest tomato I've ever eaten. I suppose it will require a drive into the Chicago suburbs to find them. That will have to wait for next year. I'm just grateful that our local greenhouses have finally started selling a few heirlooms.

This year I didn't include any Brandywines or Cherokee Purples. Both are delicious, especailly the Cherokees but neither is a heavy producer. I'll probably regret not planting any Cherokees.

Anyone new to heirloom tomatoes be warned. The shapes are often irregular and many varieties tend to crack across the top. Those perfect orange orbs are only to be found in the new hybrids. The hybrids also tend to be more disease resistant, but alas they have no taste.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Abundance

In June, as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day.
No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them.
~ Aldo Leopold



June is the time of abundance in the flower garden. So much bloom all at once it's difficult to appreciate each new flower. The roses, lilies, salvia, not to mention the annuals are all covered in billowing masses of color. The best any of us can do is pay tribute to the all too brief display of a few of our favorites.





David Austin's flamboyant masterpiece Pat Austin. A departure from his pale pinks and buttery yellows.




Salvia nemorosa 'Marcus' is a small salvia remaining under a foot tall. The clumps are compact and don't sprawl like May Night and Caradonna. In my garden I've used this excellent option for tight spots between plants that benefit from some all season color. It does well in my clay soil and withstands our drought periods.



I fell in love with the colors of this pelargonium 'Elegance Purple Majesty' Masses of lovely blooms all summer long. Of course there's a downside--constant deadheading. I'd have to say it's worth the extra trouble.



Meidiland Magic is often described as a ground cover rose. The idea of using roses as a ground cover strikes me as a painful choice. There is no way to prevent all weeds from growing up in any ground cover. It seems to me that weeding an expanse of tightly compressed roses would be a very uncomfortable experience.

Magic is a good choice for pegging or it can be used as a climber. Roses that are pegged (keeping the canes horizontal rather than vertical) produce more bloom. I've experimented on this rose trying to recreate some of the beautiful sculptures the British create by pegging canes in a pattern. Sadly, I haven't mastered the art;)




In my garden Magic blooms all summer. The flowers are small and produced in clusters of six or more in an eye catching electric pink.




Phlox paniculata is becoming an obsession with me. Two years ago I stumbled upon an absolutely perfect phlox, one of the Volcano series. Constant bloom attracted tiger swallowtails in droves all season long. No disease, no pests, very compact requiring no staking. If I could find any of the Volcano phlox I'd happily buy a hundred in various colors. Where are they? I haven't been able to locate any since that original purchase.

This year I've added a dozen 'non-Volcano' phlox hoping to find one or more that perform almost as well. The one above was labeled 'Blue Paradise' (not sure the name is correct) under a foot tall. It began blooming very early in June and continues with no sign of quitting. We will see how disease resistant it proves to be.




I'm going to try to maintain a regular schedule of posting, at least thru the summer months. Mondays and Thursdays hopefully I will have something to say. I know it is sometimes difficult when bloggers post irregularly. My blog list updates me when my favorites post new subjects but if you don't use a blog list, it can be hard checking in frequently looking for updates.




A non garden related news note: Some of you may have seen this on CNN. We had a train derailment in Rockford a couple days ago. Not normally something I would blog about but this accident happened to take place directly behind the building where I work. One woman was killed, several others were badly burned. All the victims were waiting in their cars at the railroad crossing.

The train was hauling tanker cars full of ethanol which exploded when the cars left the track. We were fortunate that our building is set back a couple hundred yards from the tracks.





(Rockford Register Star Photos.)


The news media is consumed with the telling and retelling. They have progressed from 'what happened' to 'why did it happen' and are now concentrating on 'who's fault is it'.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

If you believe in magic

As for the elves, having sought them in vain among foxglove leaves and bells, under mushrooms and beneath the ground-ivy mantling wall nooks, I had at length made up my mind to the sad truth, that they were all gone out of England to some savage country where the woods were wilder and thicker, and the population more scant.
~ Charlotte Bronte (from Jane Eyre)




There is something mysterious and otherworldly about foxgloves. It isn't too hard to imagine the faerie folk might just materialize in these photos. You can almost make out their shadows in the twilight gloom beyond the trees at the bottom of the garden. Listen carefully and you can hear the tinkling of tiny bells.



Most of us have a 'bottom of the garden' . A spot not as well manicured, perhaps a little wild and overgrown. In these spots the faeries live and wait for the human folk to sleep. On moonlit nights, they dance and sing and ring their bells. If perchance you should meet a stranger in your garden, a wizened old woman or a beautiful child, do be pleasant and kind for this stranger may be a faerie in disguise. It is never a good thing to anger the magic ones.




Afar from our lawn and our levee,
O sister of sorrowful gaze!
Where the roses in scarlet are heavy
And dream of the end of their days,
You move in another dominion
And hang o'er the historied stone:
Unpruned in your beautiful pinion
Who wander and whisper alone.



~ Author unknown



Where? Where are the fairies?
Where can we find them?
We've seen the fairy rings
They leave behind them!
When they have danced all night,
Where do they go?
Lark, in the sky above,
Say, do you know?
Is it a secret no one is telling?
Why, in your garden
Surely they're dwelling!
No need for journeying,
Seeking afar:
Where there are flowers,
There fairies are!



~ Author Unknown




Foxglove is steeped in superstition and myth. Faeries gave magical gloves to foxes to make them silent hunters and to help them escape death at the hands of angry farmers who's chickens they killed . The fay folk wear them to enhance their own magical spells and charms.


In your garden, foxgloves will lean toward a supernatural presence or spirit. This, of course, is a very helpful tool that will allow you to locate unseen beings lurking among the lilies and the roses;)

Foxgloves will prevent those pesky faeries from stealing your children. Child stealing is something faeries are always trying to do.

Of course you must never bring foxgloves into your home. Very potent bad luck. In addition the wee people don't appreciate damage to their plant and will seek revenge. Foxgloves do bring good luck to other plants growing near them. The magical strength of the foxglove is shared with surrounding plants. If neighboring plants are crops, fruits or vegetables they will store well when harvested.

Have a magical week, everyone.

Nepeta

Nepeta deserves a post all its own. There isn't a harder working plant in my garden. It performs in heavy clay and in the gravel garden in horrible, dry conditions. I don't divide it often so some of my clumps are almost 4 feet in width but it's easy to shear back if it gets out of bounds. It self seeds a little in my garden. I have clumps between the stones in my wall which is very attractive. Self seeding isn't a problem and I actually wish it would seed more. Nepeta smothers any weeds that come within its reach so it makes my life a lot easier.

It begins blooming about mid-spring and continues all summer, all the while alive with bees and cabbage butterflies. A perfect plant for concealing the ugly feet of rose bushes, hiding the remains of spring bulbs or cascading over walls. I wouldn't be without its pools of hazy blue in my gardens.

The photos below are Walkers Low.











I can identify with Donna Carroll Batton, the author of this cute poem.

That Time Again

The floors need scrubbing, waxing too
This quick, once-over, just won't do

Quickly rushed through wash and dry
The ironing is piled high

The dinner's late, half-cooked again
I haven't baked since who knows when

The dust is gathering 'neath the bed
And cobwebs dangle overhead

By now you think I'm one, big flop
Among the ranks of pail and mop

But this just happens once a year
When garden planting time is here