An Iowa Garden: April 2008

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Flamingo Of The Garden

If you like gaudy, you'll love Dicentra 'Gold Heart'; bright (and I mean bright) greenish yellow foliage and shocking pink flowers... a combination you don't see too often in the garden. I have one of these planted next to a deep purple hellebore, a combination that you certainly can't ignore when walking by... very nice.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:51 AM 6 comments

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

A Different Anemone

The wood anemones are blooming everywhere in our garden right now, in drifts of soft pink, baby blue, and white. This little anemone stands out by its soft yellow flowers; it is a naturally occurring hybrid between a white wood anemone (Anemone nemerosa) and the bright yellow Anemone ranunculoides (the buttercup anemone). This hybrid is called either Anemone lipsiensis or Anemone x seemanii. It gets the yellow flowers from ranunculoides, and lower plant stature (four inches) from nemerosa; a nice combination.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:29 AM 4 comments

Monday, April 28, 2008

Anemonella; Pretty In Pink

Anemonella thalictroides 'Cameo', a double pink form of our native rue anemone is just a real cutie pie. Walking the woods around here in spring, I'm always impressed by the variation seen in the tens of thousands of rue anemones; but I've certainly seen no double pinks.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:39 AM 4 comments

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Two Things To Consider...

Two things to consider when ordering plants in the spring... first, if you order a plant from a company that specializes in small alpines, if they describe the plant as "a tiny plant with small flowers", they probably are not just kidding about the flowers being small. Second, one should not purchase such a plant thinking it will make a big splash in the landscape on your annual open garden day.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:55 AM 6 comments

Friday, April 25, 2008

Brave Trilliums

It always amazes me how early in the spring the trilliums bloom. One sees nothing above ground for a month (I've finally learned not to mope about in late March, thinking they've all died or left town). Then in a matter of a few weeks, they burst out of the ground, grow to full size, and bloom, even while frost and stinging sleet are still in the forecast (we went from almost 80 degrees yesterday morning, to near-freezing last night).
This is a trillium that I purchased as Trillium erectum, but it's not even close... it is probably T. underwoodii. This particular plant is one of the very first trilliums to bloom for us, with dark, blood-red flowers. One of these days I mean to go about re-keying all of the trilliums in the garden; I know of no other plant that is so frequently mis-labeled. The problem with that is that I'm getting a lot of trilliums just popping up on their own, and some of them may be hybrids. There may be a lot of labels saying "Trillium/ ??".

// posted by IBOY @ 2:26 PM 1 comments

My Annual Glaucidium Lovefest

It's time for my annual homage to Glaucidium palmatum. It's funny how many extraordinary plants are slow growing (as is this one). There's a famous story (probably apocryphal) about someone in England who bought a house just because it had a large flower bed full of huge old cyclamens that had been growing there for a generation, with the tubers as big around as salad plates, and with thousands of flowers every year. I would think if there was a house for sale around here with a garden full of glaucidiums the size of washtubs, I would at least overlook the ugly wallpaper in the sitting room.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:30 AM 3 comments

Thursday, April 24, 2008

When You Get What You Wish For

So you think it would be great if a lot of neat, hard to grow plants like trilliums would multiply and spread all over your garden... and then one day they do. Have you considered what you'll do when the trilliums start mugging your yellow ladyslippers? Have you ever actually weeded out a trillium? I thought not. Getting what you wish for in the garden is not always what it's cracked up to be.

// posted by IBOY @ 6:26 AM 6 comments

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Corydalis Whatchamacallit

Corydalis schanginii ssp. ainae is certainly a mouthful for a small plant; it hails from southern Russia to Kazakhstan, with gray-green finely cut foliage and tubular yellow flowers with a purple nose and a long, pinkish-white spur. Very, very interesting...

// posted by IBOY @ 6:28 AM 3 comments

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

The Better Flower

One is on thin garden ice anytime one touts a foreign flower over one of our beloved natives, but I'm here to say (again) that the Asian version of our native U.S. twinleaf (Jeffersonia dubia vs. Jeffersonia diphylla) is no contest: dubia wins hands down. As shown above, dubia rapidly passes from something looking like a pink pincushion, to myriads of white-backed flower buds, to a solid mass of exquisite light lilac flowers. A bonus is the very interesting seed pod that will take the place of the flowers, looking somewhat like little starfruits. Let's see, what else... carefree, hardy, slowly spreading, better every year... that about does it.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:34 AM 9 comments

Monday, April 21, 2008

Fritillaria ussuriensis

This somber but lovely fritillary, with its hanging bells of maroon-purple, is often the first fritillary to bloom for us in the spring. It hails from eastern Russia, down through China and Korea. Liking moisture and partial shade, it grows nicely and multiplies rapidly for us, planted in an azalea bed.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:13 AM 9 comments

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Sold On Solida

My humble nomination for the single most inexplicably under-planted and under-appreciated flower gem: Corydalis solida. At top is 'Purple Beauty', in the middle 'Dieter Schacht' and at bottom 'Blushing Girl'. If I were in charge of things, these little plants would be sold in small pots on every street-corner, and no garden would be without a full selection, in a rainbow of colors. Of course if I were in charge, there would also be a national holiday honoring the chocolate chip cookie.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:36 AM 11 comments

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Three Little Gingers

The earliest of the wild gingers are blooming, with flowers so odd they are worth laying down on your stomach in order to see them better. At top is Asarum takaoi from Japan; an evergreen ginger that surprises me by its hardiness. Its variegated leaves are quite beautiful, and many selected clones are available with especially striking foliage, often silvered. In the middle is Asarum maculatum, a mottled leaf deciduous ginger from Korea, and just to make our Oriental tour complete, at bottom is Asarum heterotropoides from China. All of these have been perfectly hardy for me in the open garden (with this past winter being one that could kill a thistle).

// posted by IBOY @ 8:14 AM 4 comments

Friday, April 18, 2008

Double Bloodroot...Don't Even Ask!

The double bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis f. multiplex) is a lovely thing; when first unfolding, it always makes me think of an elegant waterlily. The plants sold in general commerce all come from one plant found, according to an account in Linc and Laura Foster's classic book Cuttings From A Rock Garden , in the spring of 1917 in a woods in Dayton, Ohio. Mr. von Webern who had purchased the woods and found the double bloodroot, fortunately sent out a couple of the plants; the original colony apparently eventually died out, but he had sent one plant to the Montreal Botanical Garden, which in turn distributed it into commerce. A few other double flowered bloodroot plants have since been found; in the southeast and perhaps in New England, as well as a pink flowered single. I don't know if any of the other doubles found have had as many extra petals as Mr. von Webern's plant. The doubles are very expensive, because they don't set seed so must (slowly) be propagated vegetatively. However, the $75 price I see charged by a certain well-known nursery is ridiculous.
Various garden visitors here are bold enough to ask for "a piece" of some pretty scarce plants. More often than not, I'll get out a trowel; if ever I turn them down it's usually only when I know they'll kill the plant before the day is done. However, if somebody asked me to pot them up one or two of the double bloodroots, I'd laugh, and I'd laugh...

// posted by IBOY @ 7:08 AM 9 comments

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Oh, Make Up Your Mind!

I have come to the conclusion that my favorite primrose is whichever one is blooming that day...Oh fickle heart, Oh footloose devotion, Oh... whatever. Anyway, I think my really, truly favorite primrose is actually Primula vulgaris ssp. sibthorpii, which is a subtype of the common primrose of northern Europe.The ssp. sibthorpii hails from the Balkans; a harsher climate making for a hardier plant. It is the first primrose to bloom every spring in our garden, with bright pink flowers covered with bees, and lovely light green foliage. As easy and undemanding as it is, I've never fathomed why this plant is so seldom (if ever, in this country) offered for sale. I can't tell you to rush right out and buy it for your garden, as likely you'll be standing there on the curb with a five dollar bill in your hand and no place to go with it. Every year I whack another piece or two off of my original plant, and replant it in another spot; my goal is to eventually have an entire garden brimming with this one primrose... though I'll have to leave room for all the other primulas that I love... did I mention that I'm fickle?

// posted by IBOY @ 9:12 AM 4 comments

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Corydalis Cutie

One of the new corydalis species in our garden is Corydalis kusnetzovii, from the western Caucasus. It's only four inches tall, with lipsticked little tubular flowers. It likes peaty soil and light shade. A cutie, for sure.

// posted by IBOY @ 6:37 AM 2 comments

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Guess The Wildflower, Win A Prize

Look at these three pictures, and guess which emerging wildflower each might be...

One of my favorite garden activities in early spring is pulling back the dead leaves on the ground, to find plants just beginning to put up their foliage, and guessing what they might be. It is quite amazing how different (and sometimes how odd) these new little sprouts are. Sometimes they give a clue as to what they will become, and sometimes they are just complete head-scratchers. If you guessed correctly on any of the above, you win my complete admiration (no money, just approval). At top is blue cohosh, in the middle rue anemone, and at bottom I was a little naughty as this is the Asian version of our native twinleaf (Jeffersonia dubia instead of Jeffersonia diphylla).

// posted by IBOY @ 7:25 AM 7 comments

Monday, April 14, 2008

Lily Of The Golden Mountains

The Altai Range (altai meaning golden mountains in the local language) are in central Asia (southwestern Siberia), and lie at the junction of Russia, China, Mongolia and Kazakhstan. Surrounded by dry steppes, the mountains rise sharply into cool, snow-covered peaks with thousands of lakes and extensive forests of pine, larch, fir, aspen and birch. Every spring, just below the snowmelt line, a snow-white lily called Erythronium sibericum blooms. Pictured is the named clone 'Altai Snow'; pristine white with a heart of gold, it is only a few inches tall, with faintly spotted leaves.
This is the first erythronium to bloom for us every spring, being a true glacier lily. We probably are pushing its southern limits of growability here in 5a, but this frigid spring is certainly to its liking. At least one plant is happy with the weather.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:03 AM 4 comments

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Scilla Rhapsody

Let me rhapsodize about Scilla caucasica; a smashing little bulb that could not be more lovely. The Transcaucasus (the area between the Black Sea on the west and the Caspian Sea on the east) is a treasure-trove of native flower bulbs, and this little scilla is one of the most beautiful, being especially found in the mountainous areas of Armenia. It is closely related to the commonly grown Scilla siberica (which in our garden has spread so prolifically, that this time of year you can't turn around without stepping on one). However caucasica is larger and more elegant than siberica; a true garden aristocrat.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:04 AM 5 comments

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Crazy About Corydalis

Like most gardeners, my first introduction to the genus corydalis was the siren song of the beautiful electric blue Corydalis flexuosa, distributed by certain Pacific Northwest growers who shall remain nameless... distributed all over the country, where they died by the thousands in summer's heat. Of course, just to show that was no fluke, the growers came back with Heuchera 'Amber Fields', which died by the tens of thousands. I guess that's known as setting up good repeat nursery business.
I do actually still have one tiny, sickly little blue flexuosa plant which just hangs on by its fingernails; never really doing anything, but also somehow never completely dying. I also have one small plant of the slightly hardier Corydalis 'Blackberry Wine', which did rather well for a few years, then died back in a freak late spring freeze, and has never really recovered, but I was quite surprised to see a small clump of it return this spring... these finicky flexuosa types of corydalis seem to just hang on enough to make you feel guilty you ever planted them in the midwest in the first place.
Anyway, my next foray into this genus was as far to the opposite extreme of growability as you could get: Corydalis lutea, a rather attractive ferny-leaved, chrome yellow-flowered plant from the foothills of the southern Alps. Introducing this species to my garden was like dropping a match in a barrel of gasoline; seedlings everywhere you looked, uphill and downhill. I've slowly beaten this plant into some sort of truce, trying to more or less confine it to a couple of hosta beds (and the bark pathways around the beds, which Corydalis lutea dearly loves).
Well, to that point my experience with the genus corydalis was patchy at best... but my next acquisition was Corydalis ochroleuca, a much more refined plant with a very long bloom cycle, and a much more demure reseeder; a nice addition to the shady garden. I then began reading about some other promising types of corydalis becoming available, and took the plunge by adding about ten new species as well as an equal number of named clones of Corydalis solida. Many of these plants were just added last year, and much to my excitement are one by one coming up into their first spring in Iowa, and all I've got to say is WOW! I'll make the not-so-bold prediction that corydalis is the next big thing in shady garden perennials. These plants are flat out gorgeous in their foliage, and the flowers are just ravishingly interesting.
Pictured is Corydalis angustifolia 'Thalysh Dawn'; about six to eight inches tall, with lovely ferny foliage and dusty pale lavender flowers with blackberry purple noses. It will go summer dormant, is said to reseed modestly, and will tolerate a bit of sun and dryness, befitting a plant native from the Caucasus down into Iran. I am smitten.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:32 AM 10 comments

Friday, April 11, 2008

Fat Dutch Crocuses, Indeed!

Henry Mitchell, in his best-known book The Essential Earthman has this to say about hybrid crocuses: "Let us have no more talk about 'fat Dutch crocuses'... as if the gardener loved only the slender, elegant wild crocuses... unfed, unbred, and untouched by the Dutch. The truth is that nothing is more sprightly to see than patches of fat Dutch crocuses in March, coming as they do to lift our spirits and amaze the young and simple."
Well, the Dutch hybrid crocuses in our garden never fail to lift my spirits and amaze me, and I'm not young, so...
Anyway, I probably wouldn't have planted "fat Dutch crocuses" in our garden at all (I HAVE gotten to be a little bit of a plant snob), but my sister-in-law was selling boxes of flower bulbs for her church, so I ended up with the Super Assortment of a hundred crocus bulbs, which arrived very late one fall when there was already snow on the ground. The bulbs were hurriedly stuck in the ground wherever it was not frozen, and promptly forgotten about. Well, every year now these amazing crocuses come up in larger and larger clumps all over the garden, their colors as clear and pure as in a garden dream.

// posted by IBOY @ 10:51 AM 4 comments

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Green Cheeks Galanthus

On a rainy, windy spring day, flocks of white crowned sparrows and song sparrows have come in from the north and one of the latter is bobbing its tail and singing sweetly to me from a low branch: Sit right down.... and I'll sing for y--e--w--w--w. Out in the garden, nosing around for something to take a picture of, I found this little snowdrop just opening its flowers. Galanthus 'Scharlockii' has a light green blush on each outer petal, which I find quite lovely. It's a small, late-blooming snowdrop, a clone of Galanthus nivalis that was discovered almost two hundred years ago in Germany. It has been nurtured in gardens all of this time; a high testament to its beauty.

// posted by IBOY @ 9:00 AM 5 comments

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Hepaticas In Blue And Pink

Hepatica nobilis var. japonica comes in so many colors and forms (including double flowers), that one could easily devote a whole garden to this one species... the only problem with this is that the gardener would run out of money before space, as the fancier cultivars demand hair-raising prices. I've always balked at paying more than twenty dollars for any plant that our smallest cat could completely cover by sitting on it. Besides, if I paid a hundred dollars for a fancy double hepatica, and the cat sat on it, I'd probably have a coronary (come to think of it, if Liz found out I'd spent a hundred dollars on a hepatica, SHE'D have a coronary, so we'd both be laid up). Of course when the cat sat on the hepatica I'd probably scream so loud SHE'D have a coronary too. Good thing we've got two cats, so there would still be somebody to come visit us all in the hospital.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:30 AM 13 comments

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Heart Of Darkness

Ranunculus ficaria 'Brambling' rapidly puts out its leaves in the April sunshine. However there is something very odd, almost sinister in this little creeper raising its inky leaves out of the cold, wet earth into the bright days of early springtime. The leaves look somber, ancient and somehow weathered... almost funereal; not at all the type of leaf you'd expect in a brand spanking new spring plant. The leaves are triangular, with splashes of silver-gray with hints of plum, and a crow feather heart. Incongruously, when its flowers appear, they are bright, cheery buttercups of gold, riding just over its little dark sea of foliage. As if to show that it is, after all in a spring mood, its leaves gradually turn to mottled green before they disappear in summer until next year.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:30 AM 2 comments

Monday, April 07, 2008

Hellebores; An Investment In The Future

Helleborus niger is always the first hellebore to bloom in our garden, sometimes starting to open up its icy pink blooms in late February. Unfortunately it was rather underwhelming this year... something to do with being sat on by six inches of ice for a few months. Therefore the first real blooming of a hellebore is this soft yellow hybridus hellebore that sits on a warmish slope, catching some early sun.
One of the things I'm certainly glad that I did was to buy several dozen inexpensive little hellebore seedlings several years ago. They are now coming into their own, covered with bright candy blooms in a rainbow of colors, each more beautiful than the last. Many of them are now also surrounded by numerous little seedlings of their own, which I've been potting up and giving away to garden visitors. Hellebores are definitely a worthwhile investment in your garden's future.

// posted by IBOY @ 8:30 AM 4 comments

Sunday, April 06, 2008

The Best (Leaves) Die Young

A few posts ago I showed Shibateranthis pinnatifida flowering; a lovely little Japanese alpine which in nature (and in our garden), blooms near the melting snow. The flowers are exquisite, and the foliage shown here is equally jewel-like; waxy and finely dissected little leaves, rising only a couple of inches off the ground on frail little individual stalks, and colored a unique shade of olive gray. These leaves only last for the cool months of spring, shriveling at the first breath of summer, with this little plant then staying dormant for the next nine months until the first trickle of snowmelt awakens it again.

// posted by IBOY @ 10:30 AM 6 comments

Saturday, April 05, 2008

New Puschkinia In Town

Puschkinia scilloides is one of those neglected little spring flowers that's always listed in fine print on the back page of the bulb catalog under "Other Small Bulbs". However, I've always had a soft spot for it; it was I think, the first little bulb that spread all around for me, many years and four gardens ago. The fact that it made a valiant run at a complete takeover of that first garden, and the fact that it has followed me into each successive garden without really being invited, has not diminished my affection for it.
Now however, there's a new puschkinia in town: Puschkinia scilloides "Aragats' Pick". This is a selection of a superior wild clone found growing on Mt. Aragats in Armenia, the highest peak in that small, land-locked country and in the whole Lesser Caucasus Range. Aragats' Pick is superior in terms of being larger and sturdier than the regular commercial selection of puschkinia (perhaps it's a tetraploid). The flowers are 50% larger than those from the regular bulb, there are more of them (the bulb above will have twelve flowers), and the flowers are spaced better on a sturdier stalk (the regular species tends to flop its flower stalk over towards the end). Aragats' Pick also appears to multiply nicely.
I imagine my little tag-along puschkinias are a bit nervous now, but I won't toss them aside; we've been together too many years... of course some of my magnanimity stems from the knowledge that I'd have to nuke the whole garden to ever actually get rid of them.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:30 AM 5 comments

Friday, April 04, 2008

When The Sky Comes To Ground

Scilla tubergeniana (the early, or white squill) is one of the subtlest of the small early bulbs; with a faint blue wash to the white flowers, and the undersides of the anthers bright aniline blue, and lovely soft lines on the backs of the petals shading from blue to purple... it is as if a tiny piece of sky and cloud has come to ground. The flowers are large for the diminutive foliage, and with their short stems the blooms seem somewhat crowded, so that when seen at a distance, drifts of these bulbs are quite striking against the dark, early spring soil. This little squill hails from Iran, and I have therefore also seen it called the Persian bluebell.
This is a flower that merits laying on your stomach to marvel at the beauty of its ethereal little flowers, though if you're a mouth breather you could easily end up inhaling a honeybee (which might make you get a bad case of hives) :o)

// posted by IBOY @ 9:31 AM 5 comments

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Galanthus 'Straffan'

The snowdrop 'Straffan' is an old cultivar, but still one of the most popular amongst galanthophiles. It was discovered in 1858 in the garden of Lord Clarina at Straffan House, County Kildare, Ireland. It was thought that it is a chance hybrid between Galanthus plicatus, bulbs of which were brought back from the Crimea, and native Galanthus nivalis.
Straffan is known for often having two flowers on separate scapes from each bulb, but my bulbs are just settling in, so only have one bloom each. My immature bulbs are making up for it though, by having yellow blotches on the inner petals of their flowers instead of the typical green. It is said that the shape of the blotch on Straffan is shaped like a "Chinese moon bridge"... I'd laugh at that if I hadn't just been trying to say the green blotch on Galanthus 'Merlin' looks to me like a wizard with his arms stretched out.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:37 AM 2 comments

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Small Flowers From A Small Island

Hepatica insularis is a tiny hepatica which comes from an equally tiny corner of the world; the southern tip of Korea, and mainly from an adjacent island just off that coast (Cheju Island); hence the species name "insularis". Cheju Island is apparently a remarkable place botanically, with over 1800 endemic species; the island is anchored by an old volcano and is said to be influenced by both maritime and continental climates, plus having sub-alpine areas, so it has numerous microclimates in a small area. Hepatica insularis is a unique hepatica, being deciduous here, yet surprisingly it is always the first hepatica to bloom, well before its new leaves emerge. I have it growing in an out of the way spot underneath a rhododendron, and am always surprised (and pleased) to see its small, pale flowers rising up out of the leaf litter in March. It looks improbably frail and defenseless to be blooming when snow flakes are still drifting down, and it is very endearing.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:22 AM 5 comments

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

A Gardener's Lifetime

Gardening, by nature isn't known for dealing out a lot of instant gratification (well, maybe trays of pansies from Walmart might be an exception). There are even some things in the garden that require almost a lifetime's work: take my dream of a hillside covered with Adonis amurensis. These little fern-like, very early spring ephemerals with their brass button-bright golden flowers are, at least in our climate, achingly slow to establish themselves and spread. There are just not enough springs left in my future to ever see huge patches of these; In our garden now I only have a few small clumps tucked in here and there (which are just now opening their cheerful, clear-eyed flowers to the warming sun). This isn't a plant that you just go out and order a hundred of; White Flower Farm I see is offering it in a three inch pot for ... cough, cough... $24.95. Oh well, at least a few years ago I suddenly realized the clock is ticking and got a dozen new magnolias planted, and can expect to see a first flower or two any decade now. I can just hear my funeral oration: "... and if he had just lived another two days he'd have seen all his magnolias in full, glorious bloom".
Maybe I'll go buy some of those tree fertilizer spikes.

// posted by IBOY @ 7:37 AM 14 comments

An Iowa Garden