Saturday, June 12, 2021

For years I dismissed Salvia farinacea, the mealy-cup sage, as a tacky common bedding annual, meant to be planted en mass. I like plants with a little more grace than the ones that are sold in the stores. I did try Salvia farinacea ‘Texas Violet’ from High Country Gardens one year, because it was described as having flowers scented of grapes, but it was a bit scraggly, the color was rather pale, with typical floury white calyces. It didn’t survive the winter. That’s the other reason I stayed away from Salvia farinacea. It is described as hardy only to zone 8 and since I’m in zone 7A, it would not be reliable. I didn’t want an annual. But after seeing some looking good in the neighborhood, I decided to grow some last year. The only ones that grew to the size I liked were from seed, so I grew a dozen or so plants from seed. To my surprise, every plant had a different character. Some were more sprawling, some had lighter or darker flowers. Some grew more bushy, and some grew more spindly. Some dropped both flowers and calyces after a short time, leaving a spotty raceme. Two plants stood out as being better than the others. One plant grew dark purple flowers with purple calyces and even the stems were purple, instead of the white calyces and green stems that are typical. The other was quite similar, but without the purple stems.
To my surprise, all of the plants survived the winter. I remembered which one was the one with purple stems, and took cuttings of it, and filled my pots with them. Although it’s not a perfect plant, it’s pretty much what I wanted. It’s like Salvia nemerosa ‘Caradonna’, but as a native New Mexican plant instead of a European one. It also blooms for much longer than ‘Caradonna’. It’s not a particularly unusual variation of Salvia farinacea, but it’s closer to what I wanted and not something that can be bought in stores. Maybe I’ll try more seeds and see if I can get something better yet.

Sunday, June 6, 2021

'Radio Times'

 Someone once asked me why I plant so many roses that look so similar when there are so many other colors and styles of roses. The short answer is that it’s what I like. The longer answer is that there is much more to a rose than the photograph you see of a single blossom. I started out looking for the perfect rose, and after a while discovered that there is no such thing. 

 

'Abraham Darby'

My favorite flower form is called “quartered” which has many petals in an arrangement like slices of a pie. I also like the roses with cupped shaped flowers. The color I’m looking for is peachy pink with the outer petals pale pink or white, and whose color doesn’t fade as the bloom ages. It is surprisingly difficult to get just right because to get the outer petals lighter it’s usually because the petals fade as they get older, so even the inner petals fade as the flower opens. Some flowers fade to beige, others fade to pale pink, some fade to white, some even turn orange. Some fade in a nice way, many fade in an unattractive way. Some open up bright orange then fade to peach and pink. Then there are variations of scent, flower size, and durability. There are variations in the number of petals. The flowers of some roses change with the weather, getting less petals, getting smaller or turning to a different color in the heat, and then changing again as the weather cools down in the fall. Some have flowers that last a long time, some have flowers that only last a day. Some have flowers that are easily damaged by wind, rain, insects, heat, humidity. 

 

'Evelyn'

I’m also interested in roses that have a strong scent, and one that I enjoy. I’ve tried some roses that smell like mothballs and those were removed. But the fragrance also changes throughout the day and in different seasons, so it takes a while to judge. That’s just the flower. Then there is presentation or how the flower hangs or stands up on the stem and bush. Some hang their flowers like they are wilted, others coyly nod their heads, others are regimentally upright. Does the plant bloom once in the spring and is then done for the year? Or does it bloom again? If it blooms again, how often does it bloom? Some bloom in the spring and in the fall but not through the summer. Do all the blooms open at once in a big splash or does it spread them out for a longer period of time? 

 

'Princesse Charlene de Monaco'

Then there is the bush itself. How vigorous is it? How thorny? Does it grow long canes or is it compact and bushy? Does it grow 10 feet tall or 1 foot tall? Does it grow tall and narrow, or does it grow wide? Does it tend to get diseases or is it resistant? Are the leaves shiny as if waxed or are they matte green or yellowish? Does the plant have a lot of leaves or are they sparse and far apart?

'Scentuous'

Does it like my garden? Does it want to grow? Or would it rather grow in the weather of the UK?  I grow mostly English style roses so that’s always an issue. Some plants with beautiful flowers don’t want to grow in my garden at all.

'Boscobel'


Saturday, May 2, 2020

Linum perenne 'Appar'


Blue flax (Linum perenne) was a common plant to see when I first moved to Albuquerque. It's funny that it isn't seen that much anymore. Perhaps it's because it is a short lived plant, a single plant not lasting more than a few seasons. But it does self seed, from what I understand. I had forgotten about blue flax until I saw a plant in a friend's garden last year, and thought to myself, "Why don't I have that in my garden?!".


So last year, I planted this variety 'Appar', which was available at High Country Gardens.  It's supposed to be a darker blue. Planted March 30, 2019, it didn't do much that first summer, and I didn't expect a newly planted perennial to do much. It didn't look great, rather weedy in fact, but didn't seem to look any different if I forgot to water it, and I forgot to water it for weeks after the initial planting. After that, I didn't really bother.  It formed a tuft of leaves and a few longer stems by the end of summer. During the winter, it froze back a little, and when it started growing again, I pruned the damaged lanky stems back to the basal tuft.


As the flower stems and buds developed, I appreciated the fountain form, the buds and the ends of the flower stems drooping dramatically.


The first bloom opened April 9,  impressed me with the silky texture of the flowers. It still has a rather weedy appearance, but now, three weeks later, it has the light texture of a blue cloud that is hovering above the ground. Flowers last only one day or less, fading with the heat of the afternoon, and are without fragrance. They do stay open through the afternoon if the weather is cool and cloudy.


Am I happy with it? Would I want more in the garden? Will I allow it to self seed? Probably. The durability and ease of growing it is something that I appreciate, although if it self-seeds too much, I may regret it. Still, that true blue color and long season of flowering so far, is impressive. But the rather scraggly appearance of the plant without blooms is something to deal with in using it in the garden. I just learned that this is not a native plant as I originally thought, coming from Europe. If it were invasive though, I would have thought that it would have been found to be so by now, having been grown here in gardens for decades.

anticipation fulfilled

'Ila Crawford'


'World Premiere'

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

anticipation

For gardeners, part of the joy of the garden is the anticipation. Are the plans you made going to come to fruition? Are the plants you labored to choose, spent time to source, spent hard earned money to purchase, labored to prepare the ground, worked on irrigation, and months or years to grow, going to grow and perform as you had envisioned? That sweet anticipation of each plant is a great joy.  The pinnacle of anticipation each season may be the emergence of the flower, some days or just before the flower opens. I tried to share this with some friends, and was met with a tepid response. I almost feel sad for those people who only see the end product, the full bloom, a "finished" landscape, while ignoring the process and the full process of development from the beginning of the season to the end, and even the dormant season. Perhaps it is a metaphor for life to appreciate each moment of the process.

Just the emergence of the flower stems appearing from the base foliage is cause for excitement. 
Iris 'Belize'

 The first buds of the roses fills me with great anticipation. In this case, one of my favorite roses, 'Abraham Darby' whose buds appear yellow, and open apricot and fade to pink. The anticipation of that fruity fragrance has me sniffing the buds as soon as color shows in the petals. In this case, the fragrance is already there.
'Abraham Darby'


I planted this tiny cherry tree last year. This year I got to eagerly looked forward to what would happen. Would there be flowers? Even cherries? The tree is still quite a baby, about 3 feet tall, but there were flowers and even the beginning of a cherry. Will there be fruit to taste this year?
'Montmorency' Cherry.
Scabiosa caucasica 'Fama' has been green all winter. One of the plants even had a flower bud  that lasted through snows and winter cold, waiting for warmer weather to bloom. I was waiting, too.
Scabiosa caucasica 'Fama'
I moved this Erigeron to a pot last year since even though it was described as drought tolerant, it really struggled in the dry slope where it was planted. In a pot, it took off and bloomed exuberantly with long lasting spring blooms. From a small plant, it filled the 18" wide pot. I was tempted to transplant it to the garden again, but I decided to let it have another bloom in the pot and I'll move it in the fall. Will it be as glorious this year?
Erigeron speciosus 'Darkest of All'
One of my new tall bearded irises is about to bloom. Will it look like the catalog photo?

'Marie Pavie' rose was damaged by the late freeze we had this year. Last year it was incredible. Will it be able to pull through?

Another of the new irises. Almost there!

A new rose is always a great anticipation. I spend many hours choosing a rose bush, partly for the joy of it, and partly because roses can vary to great degrees depending upon the climate, and I want to choose a variety that will do well in my climate. Then there is the expense. Roses are not cheap plants. For good quality plants they can be thirty to fifty dollars plus shipping for a small plant. If ordered from a rose specialty nursery, there is the wait for the right time to ship, the anticipation of arrival (will it come in good condition?), the rush to get them planted, and the seemingly interminable wait for it to grow. This rose arrived with the canes looking shriveled. I soaked it in water for a a day, carefully covering the canes with plastic and misting them to try to rehydrate them. To my relief, they plumped up and I planted it in this pot to trial the plant for a season before committing it to the ground. It's been a month since then, without any growth, even though the roses in the garden were well leafed out even when this one arrived. In the last couple of days, the leaf buds have expanded. Soon there will be leaves, and hopefully, blooms. For the new peonies, the anticipation is even longer, since the first year after planting in the fall, it is normal for there to be no flowers at all, and only the second year after planting might there be a few flowers. Ah, sweet anticipation.






Saturday, April 25, 2020

amsonia jonesii



There are those plants that take some time get established and show their beauty, but after years of coddling, fussing and worrying, they come into their own, and it is all worth it. Amsonia jonesii has not shown to be one of those plants, at least not in my garden. 

Peak of bloom
If I were to encounter this plant in the wild, I would be delighted and charmed. And the photos on the web show lovely plants. But in my garden, so far at least, it lacks presence, contributing little to the garden.

April 25, 2020
April 11, 2020

Two plants were planted in my dry border 6/12/2017, four growing seasons ago. Planted in the hottest month of the year, I thought they had died, but to my surprise and delight, they returned the next year. Since then, the plants have become slightly larger each year, but did not bloom and did not exhibit the golden fall foliage that the amsonias are famous for.

Emerging in the spring

The plants have shown good drought tolerance, but not as shockingly drought tolerant as two other plants in my dry border: Penstemon linariodes, or Oenothera caespitosa. This year, after a particularly wet winter, is the first time they have bloomed. It's not clear to me if it is due to the wet winter or the developing maturity of the plants, but it is probably some of both.


The flowers are quite small, no more than a quarter of an inch across and are of a pale washed blue/purple in clusters. First bloom this year was April 6, and the last of the flowers are blooming today April 25, so almost 3 weeks of bloom. Charming? Yes. Garden presence? I'm sorry to say, no. Will I keep them? Well, I don't discard plants on a general basis unless they have shown some serious transgression of garden etiquette, so they will stay. I'll give them a bit of extra fertilizer and water this summer, and we will see how they perform this fall and next year.

April 25, 2020

Sunday, April 19, 2020

linum perenne 'Appar'

I'm not sure why I was so resistant to putting Blue Flax into my garden. Perhaps I thought it too weedy looking. Perhaps I was afraid that it would self seed too much. I suppose that those concerns still haven't left me. But I didn't let that stop me from planting a couple last fall.


 The color is just amazing, and the petals have a silky sheen that has to be seen in person to appreciate.

 I still think that plants are kind of weedy looking.
 
So we shall see if this plant stays in my garden.