Garden Rant

Seven Reasons Why Annie's Annuals is Making Me Crazy

Annie's is what every nursery should be: focused, specialized, and highly regional.  That's not to say that you shouldn't check out her catalog if you're outside of zones 9-10; as the name implies, she's heavy on annuals, and you can probably grow a lot of them no matter where you are.

The 2010 catalog arrived this week, just as I was coming to terms with the fact that my garden is FULL--beyond full, really, and best left to its own devices this year.

But no.  Now I've got this catalog to try to resist.  Here are just a few of the reasons why it's making me absolutely insane:

(photo credit Forest & Kim Starr via Annie's; all other photos via Annie's.)

1.  Because now I have to make room for a dozen Agave attenuata--and wait ten years for them to do this.

 

2.  Because this is the native milkweed that feeds western Monarch butterflies.  And it's fragrant. And it prefers bad soil and neglect. 

3.  Because this is what they call a nigella.

4.  Because this is a native wildflower I've never even heard of.

 

5.  Because this red buckwheat is a pollinator magnet that also loves neglect, drought, and bad soil.

 

6.  Because of Iranian poppies with crazy curved seed pods (which you will have to check the print catalog to see.) 

 

7.  Because the little tree they call the Kool-Aid bush actually smells like grape Kool-aid.

Another POTY I can’t grow

 
But I like it anyway. It was somehow leaked that the 2011 perennial of the year is Amsonia hubrichtii “Arkansas Blue Star.” The Perennial Plant Association has not yet announced it, but I saw it in the 2/7/10 Newsday, and PPA prez Steven Still was quoted as confirming the choice.

 This is another native, which is interesting. And another blue-flowered plant—2007 was nepeta, 2008 was a blue cranesbill and 2010 (how long ago that seems!) was baptisia. (I do OK with cranesbill, but many of the plants chosen by PPA need airier conditions, more sun, and lighter soil than I can provide.)

Speaking of natives, I received a semi-disturbing message from a non-gardening acquaintance who (nonetheless) is now working for the local land conservancy and wants to “coordinate their mission with native plants.” Maybe I should advise her to tell the conservancy to plant amsonia and baptisia everywhere. Then, even if I can’t grow them, I can enjoy them wherever I go.  Or maybe not.

(These are Susan's pictures, as she suggested in comments.)

Higgins Brings Bonsai to Life

If you have ANY inclination to appreciate bonsai, this wonderful piece by Adrian Higgins in the Washington Post might just make that happen.

I used to think of bonsai as a freakish avenue of gardening, but I dismissed that notion years ago. A bonsai needs continual care and the artistic skills of its owner; the tree repays the debt by becoming, literally, a model plant -- a grove of beech trees, a stately old maple, or a bleached, writhing juniper on some imagined mountain top. For all the playacting, there is a deep and quiet relationship between the plant and its caretaker, and isn't that what gardening is all about?

And about a tree from Hiroshima:

I  don't attach anthropomorphic qualities to vegetation, but just to be alone in the quiet presence of this tree is moving, and one cannot help but feel reverence for a venerable and palpable life force.

I know not everyone shares my love for this highly unnatural form of gardening, so the next time I need to explain it I'll just let Higgins speak for me.

Roses: Phooey

Guest Rant by Tom Fischer, editor-in-chief of Timber Press

I live in Portland, Oregon, one of whose nicknames is “the City of Roses.” Why, I often wonder, couldn’t we be the City of Ferns, or the City of Large, Imposing Conifers, or even the City of Hardy Geraniums? All those plants do quite well here, and most of the time they look a hell of lot better than the local roses.

Maybe it’s just this thing I have against plants that can draw blood, but it made perfect sense to me when the late, great Christopher Lloyd tore out the decades-old rose garden at Great Dixter and planted cannas, dahlias, and hardy bananas. Why wouldn’t you trade a bunch of disease-prone, blobby shrubs for a scene of tropical exuberance? In fact, one of the first things I did after moving into my house was to dig up a bunch of ‘Iceberg’ roses growing along the front path and throw them away. It felt good.

Oh, I know what the rose-lovers will say—the fragrance, the romance, the long blooming period, blah blah blah. (OK, I’ll grant you that there are some roses that smell pretty good. But not so good that they’d make me dig up a daphne.) They'll say they don’t all get black spot and powdery mildew, and that one or two actually have foliage that you might, in a charitable mood, call interesting. Whatever. (And yes, I know about Rosa glauca; I used to grow it.)

My problem with roses goes beyond the fact that for a third of the year you’re looking at thorny sticks. Assuming that their main function is to produce flowers—rather than to serve as a noble example of form, or a paragon or foliar beauty—what is it that you’re getting? A rather large wad of petals that looks at home only in the company of other highly bred flowers, in a highly traditional setting. (We won’t even talk about that monstrosity, the rose garden, where the thorny stickiness—or sticky thorniness—of the individual plants is unrelieved.)

But, you will object, what about single roses? What about the unimproved species? I’ll give you some points there, and for the varieties that produce attractive hips. I still harbor a few glowing embers of affection for Rosa chinensis ‘Mutabilis’, a single whose flowers start out peach-color and gradually turn a deep coppery pink, and ‘Darlow’s Enigma’, a large shrub that bears dense tresses of small, white, sweetly perfumed flowers all season (and doesn’t need deadheading). But I wouldn’t give either one space in my garden nowadays. I have yet to encounter a rose that I would plant for the beauty of its overall outline, or for its textural interest. They contribute just one note to the garden, and if you like that note, then great. But I want a symphony.

So, if not roses, what? For voluptuous flowers and good foliage, Paeonia rockii. For warm color in early summer, flame azalea (Rhododendron calendulaceum). For fragrance, most daphnes, sweet azalea (Rhododendron arborescens), Korean spice viburnum (V. carlesii), or (West Coast and South) osmanthus and gardenias. For architectural form, doublefile viburnum (V. plicatum f. tomentosum ‘Mariesii’), witch hazels (Hamamelis spp.), pagoda dogwood (Cornus alternifolia), or (West Coast) manzanitas (Arctostaphylos spp.). For superb foliage, clumping bamboos (Fargesia spp.), dwarf fothergilla (F. gardenii), or oakleaf hydrangea (H. quercifolia). A garden full of these beauties would be, oh, about a thousand times more interesting than a garden full of roses.

So I urge you to follow Christopher Lloyd’s excellent example: get rid of ’em.

Tom's new book, The Gardener's Color Palette, will be released by Timber Press on February 16. He has also launched a website, OverPlanted.com, for the hopelessly plant-addicted.

Top photo by Tom Fischer. In collage, Paeonia rockii by AnnaKika. Oakleaf hydrangea, Flame azalea and Doublefile viburnum by Susan Harris.

Would You Do 'Easy Does It'?

Admit it.  You want it.

Ordinarily, I am not the new rose type. Those plant breeders with their corporate conspiracies, out to breed a bombproof plant that anyone can grow, never stopping until there is one in every front yard and parking lot across America. Who needs that?

But --- dang.  'Easy Does It' is the All-America Rose Selection for 2010. No disease and a hardiness described as "perfect in every climate?" And it's fragrant?  And it looks like that? Seriously?

What do you think?  Is anybody going to fall for the easy promises of 'Easy Does It' this year?

Speaking of roses with a lot of hype behind them, I was in Pasadena recently talking to somebody about the 'Knock Out,' which won the same award in 2000 and went on to become a big bestseller. In addition to being disease and drought resistant, it was billed as "self-cleaning," which means that the rose hips fall to the ground by themselves after they bloom so they don't have to be deadheaded. It's been 10 years, and I start may seem to be popular in California, where I see them growing in median strips. Has 'Knock Out' lived up to its promise where you are?  I'd like to know your experience.  And then--uh--I might just go rose shopping.

The gin works

But, as I am sure many of you have experienced, sometimes it can work all too well. Like when you wake up feeling like someone might have accidentally buried an axe in your head.

In this case, it was my tazettas that had the hangover.  For a few years now, I’ve been hearing about the trick of putting a small percentage of gin into the water you’re using to force tazetta narcissus (also known as paperwhites).  7 parts water to 1 part gin is the suggested ratio, according to the Cornell Flower Bulb Research Program. The idea is that the alcohol will stop them from getting too tall and lanky, especially in a shorter vase. I’d heard about this a few times, but never tried it until this year.

 It could be that I buy fancier tazettas than the ones normally found in garden centers—I mail order such cultivars as Grand Soleil d’Or and Erlicheer—but mine seem to have had an extreme reaction to the elixir. As it is, I don’t think some of the buds will make it beyond the edge of the vases they’re in. Some of them are only about 5 inches tall, as you see here (top, I think Erlicheer). On the other hand, my untreated tazettas (above, I think Early Pearl) are their usual tall selves, which I now think I like better.

It’s all good. Anything green and flowering during this unusually frigid January is a big plus. All the same, I think next year I'm putting my tazettas on the wagon.

Me and my Baptisia, or How to kill the Perennial Plant of the Year

The Perennial Plant Association recently announced their choice of Baptisia australis as the next Perennial of the Year, and garden writers are asking: Had any experience with this?  You bet I have.  I've killed two of them and given up on the third.

To learn more about the plant and figure out why mine have performed so poorly, let's turn to the PPA press release:

• "Showy native species" - yes, indeed, and I've blogged  about that.  Seen at full size and in flower, it's irresistible, as you can imagine from this photo taken from a public garden.
• "Very easy to grow," and "very long-lived".  But read on.
• "Best left undisturbed and tends to resent transplanting."

Which gets to the reason that mine have failed, I think.  Like all perennials in my garden, the Baptisias have been subjected to several moves.  So my Top Tip for Growing this PPA winner is:  Know where you want it to be at its full size, plant it there and never, ever move it.

But here's what the PPA says about its landscape uses:  "Because of its commanding size, this shrub-like perennial makes a beautiful specimen on its own or in small groupings. It is commonly used as a backdrop in perennial borders, but also works well in native or meadow plantings."

See the dilemma for a gardener who cares about design?  Stick a bunch of tiny, slow-growing perennials at the rear of the border and wait years for them to look like background plants?  Or put a starter plant in a spot that's perfect for a big specimen and wait years for the desired effect?  Not bloody likely in my garden. 

I see that gardeners at Dave's Garden had better luck with it than I, though. Good for them.

Making my (separate) peace with poinsettias

December 12 is National Poinsettia Day. I wasn’t sure if Susan would want to celebrate it then or not (she posts that day), so I’m jumping the gun a bit. There’s a cute post about these ubiquitous seasonal plants on Neatorama. Go ahead and read it, but here are my favorite facts (all readily available everywhere on the net and in any plant encyclopedia).  

• The common name for euphorbia pulcherrima comes from Joel Roberts Poinsett, the first U.S. minister to Mexico, who brought them to the U.S. in 1828.

* Apparently, they became associated with Christmas when they started growing miraculously from some weeds gathered by a devout peasant girl in the 16th century.

* Johnny Carson may be partially responsible for their popularity; they were marketed on his show and Bob Hope’s during the 60s. That makes sense; they have a flamboyant, blowsy look that would have appealed back then.  The Ecke family, who bred them to their popular compact form, had a monopoly on these until the 1990s, and still control 50% of the market.

Actually, there are circumstances under which I actually like poinsettias. Botanical gardens throughout the U.S. like to use them in displays like the clever one from the Birmingham Botanical Gardens shown at top (the image came from flickr, not the gardens). I’ve also seen large poinsettia standards that were nice. Red and pink doubles and the lemon-lime varieties are also attractive. Sadly, for me, these plants have become so tainted by their universal use and all the horrible glittery, day-glow varieties at nurseries now, I can’t use them.

Here are three of my favorite alternatives to poinsettias for holiday décor. Cyclamens can be kept inside as reliable flowering houseplants (much easier than poinsettias), while the helleborus niger can be planted out in spring. I might even be able to keep the euphorbia Diamond Frost going long enough to use it as a container plant in late spring. Or not. 

Poinsettia "tree" Image courtesy of southern pixel. 

Unlocking the mysteries of the amaryllis

 Lacy's favorite, Orange Sovereign

Hippeastrum. Amaryllis. Hippeastrum. Ama— Oh, who cares. Taxonomy is not the mystery I’m talking about. For many gardeners, the biggest mystery about these plants is how to keep them alive and blooming (as indoor plants) for more than one season. I know many who either a. treat them as annuals or b. don’t buy them all, anticipating rebloom failure.

 
 In Lacy's sunroom.

So I found a local hippeastrum expert—well, addict, really. My friend Lacy, the former owner of a garden shop, currently has 67 of these in various stages of growth. Clearly, she knows what to do, and it boils down to a few simple rules, many of which you all know. So I put them together with what I observed in Lacy’s basement and growing room. I also videotaped the visit and will be posting that once I’ve edited it. I am sure many gardeners and non-gardeners receive these as gifts at this time of year, so a little amahippe talk may be in order. 

 

Above is Lacy, and here are some of her strategies:

1.    12 weeks of dormancy starting in mid-late August. Lacy keeps hers in a not-too-chilly basement; it never gets below 50. After the leaves die back, she covers the plants with a paper bag, so light can’t come from the basement windows. She gradually starts to wake them up, adding some infrequent water, and brings them up into the sun

2.     She does not keep them outside in the summer, explaining that this led to infestations. (Hippeastrum attract a lot more bugs than I thought.) They’re in a sunroom, where they receive fertilizer and grow the requisite 4 leaves needed to replenish the bulb.

Fun with bulbs (this one is too sickly to make it another season).  

3.     The bulbs should never be repotted, just replenished with a bit of soil once in a while.

4.     Watering should be infrequent and thorough.

5.     Briefly soaking the roots in lukewarm water before initial potting can be helpful.

6.     Bottom heat is nice prior to bloom.  Chilling them at any time—BAD.

      Some candidates for the collection in the basement.

W   Well,  I never thought hippeastrum were as fussy as all this, but if you’re trying to keep 67 in prime condition, I suppose you have to go the extra mile. I may or may not be able to obey all this (and I will never be able to replicate the hygiene of Lacy’s spotless basement), but I learned. And I just bought 4 more, bringing my personal total to 10. It might be time to get serious. 

Giving hedera a chance

H. helix 'Ritterkreuz' is one of many slow-growing, well-behaved ivies that are good for containers. It is also the Ivy of the Year, 2010. Photo by Rachel Cobb, courtesy of www.ivy.org.

While researching this topic recently, I was surprised to discover that bans on Hedera helix (the English ivy family) have been considered or enacted in several states (Oregon has one). Supposedly, it’s escaped from private properties to run wild over public areas throughout the Pacific Northwest and Virginia, to name two of the biggest problem areas.

However, the ivy that's overrunning these sites is H. hibernica (Irish ivy), which is a much hardier and faster-growing cultivar than its helix cousins, many of whom are sweetly decorative miniature, curly, or variegated varieties used mainly in pot culture.  I got most of this information from the American Ivy Society, but a quick google search demonstrates the majority opinion: English ivy is a thug that needs to be wiped out.

I use ivy as an evergreen ground cover in my back garden and I’ve never had a problem with it, simply devoting an afternoon each spring to pulling it away where I don’t want it. It forms an attractive dark green framework around the tapestry of ground covers (lamium, gallium, geranium) and perennials (hellebore, Canadian anemone, columbine) I use in this tree-shaded area. For a garden like mine, where turfgrass, even if I wanted it, would probably never grow among all the tree roots, and where it’s uncomfortably cold half the year, evergreen ground covers are most welcome. Buffalo has always been a haven for ivy; the Botanical Gardens here has the world's largest collection, mainly H helix types, most of the dainty variety.

I've always found ivy to be a pretty plant (perfect around a Victorian house), and now that I’ve seen more of the new gold-variegated types on the Society’s web site, I am wondering if I can replace some of my ordinary ivy with some hardy gold varieties. 

If I lived in Oregon, I might feel differently.

As far as the eye can see

And for the first time in years. Thanks to early frosts, the Norway maple leaves on the front hellstrip, which normally I loathe even more at this time of year because of their reluctance to change color or drop, have obligingly turned rusty and fallen off, so we can set them out for city composting. 

There's a sidewalk in there somewhere.

Announcing the Anti-Impatiens League

Guest Rant by Jim Freeman of Dean Street Orchids

From tree pits, window boxes, front yards, back yards, pots on stoops; little eyes of pink and white stare at me as I pass, like mini floral video cameras recording my every move.  I feel hemmed in, oppressed by their sheer number and uniformity, their horrible perkiness.

I used to think it was just garden variety paranoia.  Then, suddenly,  it hit me like a truckload of uncomposted manure:  there are impatiens everywhere!  It's a full-on epidemic -- nobody wants to talk about it, but it's true!

Now, I really have no essential prejudice against the genus impatiens itself, or even individual plants, which I've heard can be quite nice.  Imp. niamiamiensis is an excellent plant, except for the fact that you almost never, ever see it, or most of the other unusual African species either.  What you see is plant, after plant, after identical plant, stuck in the ground like cheap hair plugs, always in flower, never changing, and you begin to wonder what went so wrong.

I have come to believe that the rise of the impatiens -- temporary, I hope! -- is the garden equivalent of the supermarket beefsteak tomato, of iceberg lettuce, of the almighty 99cent hamburger.  Somebody took a perfectly good plant, one that was pretty, everblooming, and easy to grow, and said to themselves, "I will make so many of these, and sell them so cheaply, that soon every house in every town across the land will have to have them."  And so it came to pass.  Now anyone can plunk a flat down on a patch of bare earth and have instant color, without having to think about it at all.  It's one of the many instances of the modern triumph of convenience and conformity over  imagination and commitment.

Must we settle for this?  Does anyone other than the decorators of bank lobbies and corporate atriums put rows and rows of pointsettias in all their windows?  What's wrong with a little variety, people -- not just in flower color, lord knows that's easy enough -- but of leaf texture and shape, of growth habit, instead of a salad bar of the same little green things?  Better yet, how about planting perennials; you know, the kind of plants that come back year after year, that grow and change with the seasons, instead of handing your cash to the Man at the big box store for a fast, one-summer hit of plastic-looking, water-sucking Wonderplants?  Can I get a native species or two here?  Somebody hit me with a little xeriscaping, a little tenderness for the local watershed!

We can fight back.  We can stomp out mass plantings in our neighborhoods.  But only if we act together.  Join now.  And next time you see your neighbors with trays of impatiens in their hands, please, please, tell them, before it's too late:  put them down now, while you still can!

Jim gardens in Brooklyn, NY.  Photo by The Brit 2.

The Lowdown on Eco-Tulips.Now enter to win a dozen.

UPDATE:  We have a winner!  And it's Angela Treadwell-Palmer.  Randomly done by someone else.  I promise.

Like so many garden writers, I'm curious about this new product.  Like, what's "eco" about it exactly? Is it legit or just eco-marketing BS?

Well, look who I ran into at DC's Green Festival - some Eco-Tulips and the nice young women who sell them. That led to lots of emails with owner Jeroen Koeman, who answered all my questions and agreed to come play with the blogs!  Raised in a "real Dutch Tulip Family", Jeroen has worked for growers in Holland and the U.S. and recently struck out on his own by bringing organically grown tulips to the U.S.  He also married his sweetheart a couple of weeks ago - a pretty good excuse for not attending the GreenFest himself.  (Here's the story of their romance on their wedding website.  Hint: It all started on Craigslist.)

IS ORGANIC BETTER? 

Here's Jeroen's answer to that question: 

The organic bulbs are stronger and have better pest resistance because they haven’t been in contact with pesticides. Pesticides make plants weaker and less pest-resistant. The bulbs are grown in organic soil. Plants grown in organic soil can absorb a wider variety of nutrients, which makes them stronger and more pest resistant.

And he helpfully sent me this study showing that organically grown tulips stay fresh in the vase two days longer than conventionally grown, but my Dutch is kinda rusty.

As for environmental benefits, Jeroen wrote:

Conventional tulip growers use about 50-100lbs pesticides per acre.

The biggest advantage for the environment is that gardeners and especially farm workers don’t get exposed to pesticides. Plus, bees and beneficial insects do get a chance to survive with organic tulips.

WIN A DOZEN

Wanna give them a try?  The selection is here, and the winner gets a dozen of their choice tulips shipped to them pronto, with instructions.  To enter, just tell us in a comment which variety you'd like and I'll choose randomly.  Deadline:  Tuesday, October a20 at 9 pm Eastern. 

Dear FTC:  No one at GardenRant is getting anything for writing this. Except if they have another Pick Your own Tulips day next spring, I'll be there and hoping to snag some freebies.  

Anticipation …

... is what keeps me going all winter, that and a spot of bulb forcing.

And I won’t have long to wait for some of these spring species tulips. My goal: to have every species tulip you can buy planted somewhere in front of my house.  This year, in addition to 400 or so hybrid tulips, lilies, hyacinths, narcissus, and miscellaneous ephemerals, I purchased, for the first time, t. orphanidea flava (shown above), t. kolpakowskiana, t. dasystemon, and t. humulis alba coerulea oculata (shown at top) to add to the other species I have. You gotta love the names. I am sure some Linnaeus scholar can explain them for me.

Images courtesy of the John Scheepers online catalog.

Eco-Lawn Giveaway: Want to Try a More Sustainable Turfgrass?

WINNERS ANNOUNCED BY ECO-LAWN:

- Michelle D. is the grand winner of two 5 lb bags of Eco-Lawn. I delight in the fact that she has done a huge amount of research into various types of lawn - seed, sod even artificial turf. I like the look of the site, the sandy soil and the fact that Eco-Lawn will in some small way contribute to the family's quality of life as they support the dad through his healing process. Her Northern California location will work beautifully.

- I would also like to offer a five lb bag of Eco-Lawn to the somewhat skeptical Mr. Dave Reed in the mid-Atlantic area. I invite his disciplined due diligence and will be pleased to work with him!

- I thank all GardenRanters for playing in this giveaway game!  Since not everyone can win, Wildflower Farm is offering a 20% discount on all Eco-Lawn orders from now through the end of October.  When ordering, use the code GR1009. 

Miriam Goldberger.
________________________
Alternative lawn types are finally getting the attention they deserve. The key is to find the ones that do best in your region, but for lots of North America, that'll be mixes of fine fescues, many of which are native to the North and East.  They really ARE lower-maintenance than the turfgrasses we grew up with (Kentucky bluegrass, et al,) because they're more drought-tolerant and slower-growing. 

Unmowed, they'll grow to 8-9" and fold over to 4-5" tall.  If you decide to mow, you won't have to as often as you would with conventional grass mixes.  After it's established, watering isn't needed in most regions reportedly only required during the longest droughts.  In the hotter, drier regions they need about 75 less water - either by irrigation or rain - than common turfgrasses.  This photo is of the mix  called "Eco-Lawn" in a park in Santa Barbara, CA.

Another big plus?  They tolerate a lot of shade and are quite cold-tolerant (but less suited to the hotter regions).  Another advantage we read is that in most soils they need no fertilizing.  They MAY stay green all year, assuming no severe drought and adequate snow cover.

Drawbacks?  Hey, if there weren't any, we'd have been growing this stuff all along.  The questions on everyone's lips are how much heat and humidity can they withstand?  And how much traffic?  Miriam Goldberger, who sells Eco-Lawn from her Wildflower Farm in Ontario, tells me they're bringing out a high-traffic, sports-ready version soon, so the R&D on tougher varieties must be pretty promising.

Here are the FAQs about Eco-Lawn.  Here's their chart of seeding times by state - seems to be a wide window of opportunity and their tips for installation.

FREE ECO-LAWN TO A WILLING GROWER/REPORTER

Planning on putting in a new lawn?  Tell us about your new-lawn project in a comment, with an estimate of the square footage, and win enough Eco-Lawn to do the job.  The only catch?  Tell us the results!  That means following the instructions - to give the product a fair shot at succeeding - or telling us how you didn't.  So you're applying for an important job here - the test-grower who'll help us find turfgrasses that need drastically reduced inputs.  We're accepting entries by comment until 9 p.m. Eastern tomorrow, 9/11.

Geranium as shrub

This is not a flowering windowbox pelargonium and certainly not the (real) perennial one, which I use as a good-looking groundcover in partially-shaded areas.

This is the scented pelargonium “Attar of Roses” that I stuck in the back of a sunny border, thinking it might cover the knees of some lanky oriental lilium.

 It is now almost as tall as the lilies were and has a spread of about four feet, serving as a backdrop and support to this floppy heliopsis. And of course it smells nice.  Wow! Who knew? (I seem to be saying “who knew” about something in the garden every year.)

Marigolds!

To illustrate the fun discussion of marigolds going on over Hanna's Slut Plants post below, I went looking for them on Flickr.  Turns out they're pretty photogenic.  But guess what!  This photo of not just the flower but the whole plant and lots of them - the kind of photo we're always asking catalogs to please show us - is by The County Clerk a/k/a Hank Heatly of Lake County, who was once a frequent commenter here (and he's missed). 

Never thought I’d become a rudbeckia farmer, but …

 

The "Prairie Glow," which have orange/red markings, are hidden behind the "Herbstsonne."

These hirta “Herbstsonne,” triloba  “Prairie Glow,” and laciniata “Gold Glow”  have me all, well, um, aglow. Never having cosied up to the “Goldsturm,” which were too short for my needs, I am finding that these 5-8 feet tall varieties provide just the late summer oomph demanded when things can begin to look a bit less than fresh.

Though it seems I am always behind. The big excitement now is all around echinaceas with food-related names: “Tomato Soup,” “Mac ‘n’ Cheese,” “Tangerine Dream, “ and “Coconut Lime.” (There are tons more.) My friend  Dee/reddirtramblin writes about echinacea madness here.

Most of those will not get high enough for me though (I have a brick wall to overcome), so I’ll continue with the rudbeckia, though I doubt they’ll start coming in double raspberry and lime green varieties, and still maintain their height. Or can they? Terra Nova? Proven Winners? Are you listening? Would I even want such a thing? Probably not, but it would be interesting to see them try.

How much plant improvement can we stand?

Bloomerang is sold by White Flower Farms and others

Long bloom seasons, disease resistance, hardiness, and other desirable improvements in perennials come at a price.  Stella d’Oro blooms its head off all summer but its ubiquity has rendered it obnoxious to many, Knock-Out roses are foolproof but have no fragrance, and the long-blooming dicentra can’t begin to compare with the old-fashioned spectabilis. Sometimes, the trade-off is worthwhile; I love the foliage of the all-summer dicentra, for instance.

But some critics think the hybridizers have gone too far. Should a lilac bloom all summer? It’s quite a concept. There are at least two reblooming lilacs on the market: Josee, and, more recently, Bloomerang, a 3-4-foot blue/lavender variety developed by Proven Winners. And likely others to come.

I totally understand where the naysayers are coming from. Regardless of how these new varieties perform, the romance and excitement of lilacs is all about their brief, glorious moment in spring. Everyone loves lilacs. In spring. Would Whitman have bothered to write poetry about them if they bloomed in the door-yard all summer long? I doubt it. So this is what some garden writers are saying about the reblooming lilac concept:

From Anne Kingston of Macleans: The arrival of a reblooming lilac has drawn a fresh line in the soil between the old and the new gardening guard. Those who eagerly await the species' fragrant flowering as a harbinger of spring find the prospect of lilacs blooming again in September akin to watching a burlesque dancer perform the same act into her dotage—untimely and kind of creepy.

From Bradford McKee of Slate: In the annals of plant novelties that cheapen gardening for the sake of enriching it, I can't think of anything so dumb. When you can have any flower whenever you want it, that's not gardening. That's shopping.

The actual rebloom performance of Bloomerang is not spectacular: a heavy first flush with some sporadic repeats through fall, with rests in between. So, really, as long as the spring bloom is up to standards, should we care if the plant puts out a few flowers afterward from time to time? Is it that big of  a deal? New hybrids are allowed and people can buy them if they want.  Still, I can see why this one might be a bit disturbing to some.

However, if someone comes up with a smallish lilac that will bloom in shade, I might have to buy it. 

The Botanic Garden Collection--We Have a Winner!

Thanks, everybody, for weighing in about Botanical Interests' new Botanic Garden Series.  We had a lot of enthusiastic responses to our post last week, and our winner is Meredith, blogging at Great Stems from Austin, TX.  Here's what she had to say:

I love that Botanical Interests is working to help restore natives. I think the slender rose gentian is gorgeous -- it looks like a bright pink star. It's native to many states, and it's listed as endangered in several of those. For something tall and different, the false gaura is appealing. It's a big bee attracter with all its nectar. Thanks, Botanical Interests!

Congrats, Meredith, and cool blog, too.  Enjoy those seeds.