dittany of crete and cascading oreganos

Mid-season flowers on Origanum dictamnus

As the season progresses, the bracts become longer and longer.

Bracts are frequently described as hop-like.

Today involved more cleanup, and this included the Dittany of Crete. Most people don't know what Dittany of Crete is, or if they do, they associate it with the Harry Potter books, where Hermione used Essence of Dittany to help heal Ron's splinching injury. But that dittany may have been Dictamnus albus (also known as gas plant) rather than Dittany of Crete which is Origanum dictamnus. There are a number of the cascading type of ornamental oreganos (as opposed to the upright types), and I've grown a number of them, but my favorite is Dittany of Crete. It's not commonly sold in this area, which is unfathomable to me, but it is not as hardy as some other oreganos, and the Sunset Western Garden book does list zone 10 (Albuquerque) as being appropriate for this plant. And yet, it has survived in my gardens for nearly 20 years.

Lantern-like bracts on 'Kent Beauty'

More commonly found here is Origanum rotundifolium 'Kent Beauty' which is indeed a beauty in bloom, with large lime green lantern-like bracts tinted with rose, and a compact cascading form. It is stoloniferous, and will spread in standard rich garden soils. The leaves are smooth and light green,  and cut or crushed smell strongly of oregano. The plant is deciduous, dying to the ground in the winter.  I grew this plant for a number of years in this garden, but it did not survive being neglected in a xeric location. I would happily grow it again though.

Early season Origanum libanoticum looking like earrings

In my climate the bracts quickly turn to brown rattlesnake rattles

Origanum libanoticum (Lebanese oregano) used to be very common here and I was introduced to this plant by High Country Gardens. With olive green smooth leaves, the bracts that are typical of the oreganos are very narrow, and slightly tinted with pink, with true flowers of pink poking out throughout the season. I found the predominantly pale green bracts to be disappointing, and in my garden the bracts tended to fade quickly to brown. The herbaceous plants also die to the ground in the winter.

I also tried twice to grow another oregano with strongly rose colored bracts (was it a Greek oregano?), that I got from Agua Fria nursery, but this plant did not survive my winters. The hybrid oregano 'Amethyst Falls' also primarily featured lime green bracts, not living up to its name.


It's easy to overlook Dittany of Crete for the more showy garden members like roses. What makes Dittany of Crete a favorite is that unlike the other cascading oreganos that I've grown, Dittany of Crete has charming round grey fuzzy leaves that are evergreen. This gives it a winter-long presence. Dittany of Crete also has a long season of bloom, the bracts retaining their color for a few months, and they are much more colorful than the predominantly green bracts of the other oreganos. The plants do need a trimming of the faded bracts at this time of the year for the plant to look its best.

The faded hop-like bracts do have a charm of their own, I suppose. 

After a trim, the leaves show their qualities. I could have also waited until spring, and trimmed all of last year's growth down to where the new growth appears, but I like this neater look.

Not the best photograph, but you can see the color in the bracts. This photograph was also taken in November, but had retained their color that year. When the bracts first appear, they are short, and then get longer and longer as the season goes on. The bracts of 'Kent Beauty' are more like paper lanterns, than these rattlesnake tails.

apples

A small portion of this year's Goldrush harvest

There are a number of apple growers in New Mexico, and apples are certainly common enough at the grocery store. Why grow apples? Well, once you start looking into the variety of apples that are available you will realize that there are many, many more varieties that can be grown than are available at the grocery store. Once you start tasting them, you will realize that there is much more to apples than the tasteless and mushy/mealy 'Red Delicious' or 'Golden Delicious' that you, if you are like me, grew up on, and the tart Granny Smith's that were only used for cooking. True, there are much better apples that are available at grocery stores than there used to be, and some of them such as 'Jazz', and 'Envy', are at the top of my taste preference for apples. Yes, growing them takes effort and then you have a harvest to deal with. So let me start of by saying that it isn't for everyone. But there is the satisfaction of growing and harvesting something that you can't get at a grocery store. Even the lowly 'Golden Delicious' is a different animal in terms of taste and texture when is is harvested when mature instead of harvested early for ease of shipping. Then there is the terroir of the apples you have grown. Like grapes and wine, apples also develop a characteristic taste grown in different locales.

'Goldrush'

When I removed some trees from my side yard, I knew immediately that I wanted to plant some apple trees. Years previously I had asked a number of my landscape architecture friends if they could plant one thing only, what they would plant, one of the responses I received was from my friend Rick, who said, “I am within this garden, not looking at it from outside.  It's a garden that offers protection - dappled shade and a sense of enclosure.  It offers sustenance; a fruit.  It expresses the passage of time and cyclic nature of life in fragrant blossom, changing leaves and the stark and spare beauty of a structure laid bare in winter and open to a warming sun.  Fallen leaves give a soft place to lie, protect and regenerate the soil.  A company of birds and critters share its gifts.  I'd be happy to lie under a tree in this apple orchard, watching a changing summer sky.  "Ah, perchance to dream..."

This idea resonated with me, and I kept it in my heart until I had a place to plant an apple tree. I actually had a place to plant FOUR apple trees. Since I had not idea how apples would grow in Albuquerque, or how much fruit I would want, this seemed reasonable. I researched apple varieties for months. Since I like to make Tart Tatin, I decided that I must have at least one cooking apple, and not the English type that make apple sauce, but the French type for apple tart. So that ruled out 'Bramley's Seedling' although I was sorely tempted to try this quintessential English cooking apple.  I was encouraged by a friend to grow 'Fuji' apples, but I also wanted apples that were not possible to get at the grocery store, and 'Fuji' apples were easily obtainable, although not necessarily of a quality that I would always like. I also learned that apples are rather particular as to their climate. Those early settlers of North America from Europe found this out pretty quickly when most of the apples brought with them did not produce well, or produced an inferior product, or simply died. Fortunately apples from seed are so diverse that within a few generations of growing apples from seeds, there were a number of varieties that did well in the New World. Some of these have lasted through time, and remain popular among growers. There are also a number of newer varieties that are bred for disease resistance, and flavor. But to choose an apple (or four), I knew I had to be careful since Albuquerque is a very quirky growing climate. I extensively researched rootstock. Apple trees are grafted onto the root of a different variety of apple for various reasons, mostly to control the size of tree. But those roots also have important characteristics. Because the soil here is poor, and the climate windy, and it is dry, I knew that I would struggle with the most dwarf apple trees, since the roots used to make a dwarf tree need rich soil, and the trees need to be staked throughout their lives so they won't blow over in the wind. A full size apple tree could get 20-30 feet tall and wide, which is too large for my space. So I decided I wanted semidwarfing M111 roots, which would reduce the size of the trees to about 70-80% of full size (standard) trees. M111 is know to anchor trees well, and to tolerate drought.

I began tasting as many apple varieties as possible to see what I liked. Although 'Arkansas Black' is said to grow well here, I didn't like the flavor. 'Empire' is supposed to grow well, but I didn't like flavor or texture much. I've never been impressed with the texture of 'Gala' if is is cut and peeled much in advance of eating, and I like to prepare my snacks in advance so as not to interrupt my work day.  'Mutsu' didn't have a good sweet-tart balance and was too soft for my taste. 'Jazz' is not available as a tree. 'Jonagold' has quirky pollination habits and may not do well in this area but is one of my favorites for making Tart Tatin.


So from thousands of options, I settled on four trees, knowing that at least two of them would be questionable. I knew I had to risk growing 'Calville Blanc d'Hiver', the quintessential French cooking apple, which originated in the 1600's. I also knew I had to grow 'Ashmead's Kernal' (from about 1700) said to be Thomas Jefferson's favorite apple, and an apple that some have described as having "too much flavor." Everything I read said that I wouldn't be able to grow 'Orange Pippin', so I settled for the easier to grow 'Tydeman's Late Orange' (from1929). I also decided upon 'Goldrush', a modern apple (1992) which was said to be very disease resistant, and although descended from 'Golden Delicious' was described as having a better sweet/tart balance, but had some of the honey flavor from it's parent. Also essential was that I plant four trees that could pollinate each other. Although 'Goldrush' is at least partially pollinating, other apple trees need other apple trees to pollinate them, and since apple trees can bloom at different times, only apples that bloom at the same time will work.

It's been five years since I planted those trees and there are a number of things I learned.

It does take at least 4-5  years for trees on M111 roots to produce a decent crop.
Two trees produce more than enough apples for the two of us to use and to give away.
Some trees produce a lot more fruit than others.
Just because a tree produces great fruit somewhere else, doesn't mean it will here (I had made some well researched gambles, but they were gambles nonetheless).
Apple trees need water.
Apple trees need nutrients.
Apples here get worms. They get enough worms that the fruit is unusable unless the trees are sprayed with insecticide throughout the season. For a schedule check out the New Mexico State University website. 
Apples need protection from birds. Birds here are very aggressive about eating apples. They jack-hammer them with their beaks until they are full, leaving about 3/4 of the fruit left. The damaged fruit falls to the ground, and the birds move on to another fruit. Sometimes they just sample a number of fruit, and a number of birds over a week can damage most of a crop.
Different varieties of apple trees have very different growth habits. I thought that planting four varieties of apples together would produce a uniform planting, but some of the trees grew strictly upright, others more of a weeping shape, and some were awkward.
Apple trees don't produce much fall color, some more than others, some none at all.

Some leaves, individually can be quite attractive on some trees.

Fruiting apple trees produce pretty flowers, but not many of them, and they don't make much of a show. That's why people plant crabapple trees, for the multitude of flowers. 

The whole tree in the fall doesn't make an impressive fall show.

I removed the 'Calville Blanc d'Hiver' after three years of its producing fruit that sunburned and became corky on the sun exposed sides. It also was a favorite of the birds. Mostly, the fruit was hard to use, as peeling it was very difficult, the flesh coming off with the peel in large chunks, even with a sharp peeler. The flesh had the texture of styrofoam and the grown here, the flavor unexceptional. Likewise, I removed 'Ashmead's Kernal' this year, after several years of a very large tree producing very few, very small fruit, not much bigger than a lemon, and mostly pit. It was also very susceptible to sunburn of the fruit. I almost gave up on all of them after losing a couple years crops to worms and failing at intense efforts at organic methods for two years, until I learned to spray.

'Goldrush' has turned out to be the standout performer. Although the first fruits it produced were not very tasty, in subsequent years, the fruit has been extremely flavorful, both sweet and tart. Samples given to friends have always resulted in "Oh my God, that's an incredible apple!" comments. It is good for fresh eating. It is good for cooking, holding its shape and adding incredible flavor.

Fresh out of the oven

The small tree is amazingly productive. This year I picked over five, 5-gallon buckets of fruit.

This small tree produced that much fruit. Fall color here is nice, but not exceptional.

Fruit is produced amazingly densely on the tree and requires thinning early in the season. 

Branches need support from all the heavy fruit, or risk breakage.

'Tydeman's Late Orange' has also proved itself to be a keeper. Although not nearly as productive as 'Goldrush', it produces a decent crop of large fruit that need to be rescued from the birds who find it particularly irresistible. The fresh flavor is more bland than 'Goldrush' but still quite good. I think of it more as a cooking apple. The Tart Tatin (yes I capitalize it), I made from the 'Tydeman's Late Orange' was deemed by my friends to be the "best ever", and I've made Tart Tatin for them for over 10 years. When I removed the other two trees, my friends begged me to keep this tree, because they loved the tart so much. It's more of a lax tree, not weeping, but with rather thin willowy branches to start. It also needs strict pruning to keep it from branching down low. It has no fall color whatsoever, the leaves turning from green to dry before falling off. Here is the tree today (below).

This year, the apples were picked before they turned very orange, since the birds just DEVOUR them. Given another few weeks or a month to ripen they would have been more flavorful and colorful, but then there would be literally none left from the birds. The apples tend to be rather large.

So if you plan to plant apple trees in New Mexico, keep a few things in mind. Choose an apple that you really like, because when it comes time to harvest, there will be a lot, and they are a fairly large amount of work. Be prepared to irrigate, fertilize (i.e. a thick mulch of decomposed compost). Be prepared to thin the apples. Be prepared to spray, put the spraying schedule on your calendar, and FOLLOW IT. Learn how to prune properly. Choose your rootstock for your growing conditions. Choose your varieties for pollination. Is it worth it? You decide. I decided to replace the two I removed with a fig and a cherry tree.

optimism

Gardeners must be optimists. We have to be. It takes a degree of optimism to plant something, and expect something to come out of it. When we plant the tiny seed, or bury bulbs in the ground, or plant a baby tree, we trust that what we plant will grow, and we hope that what we plant will grow into what we imagine in our mind's eye. Innumerable things can go wrong. The seed doesn't germinate. The bulbs get eaten by mice. The tree grows into something that has a very different character than what we expect, and we only discover this years later. I must confess that I've always considered myself a pessimist, or a realist, rather than an optimist. But planting bulbs today, I realize that I am much more of an optimist than I thought.

starting a new garden

It’s been a long time since I started a garden. Recently one of my friends bought a house, and with it came a garden. They had never gardened before. They had never picked up a shovel or a pruner or a rake. They are total newbies. They asked if they could have some of my divisions, or cast-off’s. I gave them some irises.

Planning for those pretty flowers in May is very satisfying, but what will the garden look like when the flowers are gone?

One of my gardening books says to start a garden by focusing on one season. In this way, the new gardener will learn gardening in a smaller step than trying to design a year-round garden from the get-go. They can learn how plants with a similar life-cycle grow and bloom, what kind of care they need and when they need it, instead of trying to do it all and getting overwhelmed. Then as the new gardener gains experience, they can start planting things that bloom in other times of the year, and learn different gardening techniques. The easiest season to start with, and to plan for is the main perennial bloom season, and in Albuquerque, that season is May. That is when most of the common old-fashioned flashy perennials bloom, like irises and peonies. These are good plants to start with because they are easy, and they are a lot of reward for the effort, given that you can have big impressive flowers the first year after planting. They are also rewarding for the experienced gardener as well. Of course, these old-fashioned perennials are not native plants. They also tend to have a very short bloom season.



Starting off with the structural plants may seem boring, but I actually love the structural plants.

If I were starting a garden, or if someone asked me how they should start a garden, I would have a different approach. I would say start with winter. By starting in the winter, you may not get the feel-good experience of easy perennials, but there are long-term benefits to this. First of all, you start your garden off  with structure. Because I do have experience, I do know what this means, and how to design this though. The benefit for the beginner, is that the garden starts off with year-round structure, and that, ultimately, is more satisfying for the garden as a whole, than the flash in the pan perennials that leave a lot wanting at other seasons. Even more important is that if you start with the short season pretties, you may find yourself doing a lot of work moving those perennials once you realize that they are in the way of creating a design that would be pleasing all year round. You might end up planting the structural plants around the seasonal perennials, which is like the tail wagging the dog. If you start with winter, then it’s relatively easy to plant the seasonal plantings around the structural plants and you don’t end up with holes, or a lop-sided garden. Starting with planning for  and planting the winter garden, not only do you start off that first winter with a beautiful winter garden, but keep in mind that the winter season here is at least 4 months long, where the garden doesn’t really change. That’s a long time compared to the week or two of bloom from the seasonal flowers. May as well make the best of it.

diversity in the garden

Early Spring

I've recently given myself a moratorium on buying new plants. I don't know how long this will last, but I'm going to try. I'm doing this because frankly, I have more plants than I have space for, and I already have a huge diversity of plants. From a design standpoint, there are pro's and con's in considering the amount of diversity to have in the garden, and each of us makes our own decisions, and has our comfort level. For myself, there are a number of benefits to a large diversity. The first benefit in my mind, is that with diversity, there is more look at, different colors, forms and textures.

Late Spring

Second, there is a longer season of bloom. I have something in bloom just about all year round. Even in my temperature extreme climate, I can have something blooming almost every day of the year. This certainly is not the case with a low diversity garden, although there are certainly benefits to having a garden that is not focused on bloom at all. It's just that that's what I want. I want something in bloom all year round, and you can't have that unless you have enough diversity.

Summer

Thirdly, if something dies, it doesn't leave an obvious gap in the plantings, such as if a hedge with a hole in it.

But this huge diversity also creates a busy garden and it can look rather messy and haphazard. It can also be a lot of work, as different things need care at different times. If you have a garden of only a few varieties of plants, then the gardening becomes much easier. When it's time to trim, they can all get done at the same time and be done. It can also make for a more restful garden since it doesn't encourage the eye to jump from one thing to another. A less diverse garden can also be more dramatic, in that a large number of the same plant, all in bloom at the same time, can make an incredible impact. Of course, the flip side of that is that when the bloom season is over, that garden can revert to monotony.

Fall

From a ecologic standpoint, Nature has shown us what diversity she wants in our area. I've certainly had my guilt about not having a garden focused on native plants. But in my defense, I certainly have more insect and bird diversity than I ever had when the garden was mostly lawn. And since my garden has a lot more growing and blooming than in a native landscape, my observation suggests that I have more diversity of birds and insects as well. You could probably argue that these exotic plants may also be encouraging the birds and insects that are also exotic and not part of the local ecology. Yes, it is a dilemma. We have to find our balance in how much diversity we want in our garden.

Winter

the long cleanup begins this year with the iris

Now that we have had the first hard frost, cleanup time begins. If this were a milder climate, cleanup would really be all year long. If this were a more severe climate, it would be more intense and then winter would be a breeze. Here, you could have a big winter cleanup, or you could do a little at a time throughout the winter. Fortunately, what you do stays until spring, for the most part. This weekend, I started with the irises.

Now irises have what I call their "Summer Leaves" which are long, and they have their "Winter Leaves" which are short tufts of leaves that last through the winter before they elongate and grow into the summer leaves with the new summer leaves. By this time of the year, the summer leaves get rather ragged, and I like to pull them off. You could wait until spring, when the the winter leaves start to grow. Or you could wait until each leaf turns brown and pull them off one by one throughout the winter. But to me, it looks neater through to do it all now. Of course I don't do it with all the irises. Some of them don't have many winter leaves, so I leave the ragged leaves on those. 

The miniature irises do get rather ragged and have distinct winter leaves.

These were newly divided and planted this year.

Before

After

It's best to wear gloves when pulling off the leaves since the dry leaves can crumble into sharp bits that can lodge under the skin. It's also best to pull the leaves off the rhizomes instead of cutting them. It makes for a much cleaner result.

Before

After

 This one is an older established clump. I'll have to divide it next year, as the rhizomes are starting to pile on top of each other.

Before

After

Ahhh....I feel much better now.