I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date! So much going on in the garden but you'll excuse me for missing GBBD by two days due to wedding anniversary #29.
Without further ado...
Ajuga 'Chocolate Chips', cute as the name
Iceland poppy 'Champagne Bubbles', great coral color
Texas sage blooming in the kitchen garden along with Redbor Kale
Pea blossoms promise sweet, tasty peas in a pod
Echium 'Red Feathers' with spikes of pinkish-red flowers
Echium 'Red Feathers' with handsome spikes of reddish-pink flowers
Window Box with succulents, gomphrena and portulaca
Windowbox succulents paired with Gomphrena 'Fireworks' and rock rose
Honeysuckle 'Mandarin'
Mystery allium, can't remember what I planted, can anyone ID?
Salvia 'Purple Sensation' overhead view, spot the bee
'Crazytunia' trial plant from Viva! Plants, each bloom is a little different
May 15! But who would know it? Lows in the 30's, how am I supposed to plant, I ask? So afraid of stalling growth in plants by putting them out too soon. Are you in the same persistent winter-reluctant spring boat as me? These are the questions that keep gardeners up at night, when they should be resting up for a hard day's work/play in the garden.
So...slim pickins for GBBD. For my first in so long after going without a garden during our building process, I had hoped to re-enter with a blooming bang instead of a floral whimper. Alas, here are my offerings for this May 15, (supposedly the average last frost date for my area).
Erythronium 'Pagoda', dogtooth violet
I love this little flower. Not technically a violet, although the yellow blooms do a downward-dog pose.
Also known as trout lily, fawn lily and adder's tongue. Dog tooth refers to its canine-shaped bulbs. This named cultivar has the same brown mottled leaves as the species, but has a bit larger, more curled flower. One of the first to pop up in spring, I know it has been a bright spot on my thrice daily rounds in the garden lately.
Store Bought Anemone
A little instant gratification I bought for a pair of quickie containers at the front door. But here's the cool thing. Recently I learned about pollen in shades of steely blue, like that of scilla (Siberian squill) flowers. Sure enough, this one does. Bees compartmentalize each flower type so you can see small cells of blue pollen in honeycomb.
Blue pollen
These honeyberry bushes were planted not only for extreme cold hardiness and blueberry-like fruit but to cover an unsightly fence. The new neighbors took down that section so now I may have to rethink their location.
Lonicera caerulea edulis, Honeyberry 'Tundra'
Will pollinators find these early blooms? It's pollinating partner is 'Berry Blue'.
You can't help but smile at pansies
And finally for the grand finale, a flourish of tulips.
I've grown accustomed to camellias in winter. Knowing I can count on these beautiful blossoms waiting on me when I arrive in Savannah motivates me through the first part of winter.
But cold happens. Unusual cold.
There are a few shrubs in bloom here and there as I navigate the lanes and squares, but very few with flowers untouched by the freezing temperatures that passed through here during the Polar Vortex. Some seemed singed by the frosty temps, others are simply brown, with the buds "frozen" in time, unlikely to bloom.
2013 Camellias in fine form
2014 finds them bitten by frost
And so I wonder how the famous camellia trail at the Coastal Georgia Gardens emerged. I will have to trek out there and take stock of the damage. Not as protected as these urban flowers, by something of a heat island with sheltering buildings and warm pavements, I fear they fared worse.
As I wander familiar paths through the historic district I see palms and ferns dead or dying, devoid of green leaves. Crispy and brittle they rattle in the chilly breeze that even now marks this extra cold winter throughout the country.
Crinums in container on street 2013
Crinums melted by the freezing temps 2014
I was especially sad to to see this pot of crinums on my street, normally a wonder every year to behold, burgeoning from an almost-invisible vessel underneath the massive foliage. I wonder if it will manage a comeback as the season warms? I'll be keeping tabs on it, looking for signs of life, until I leave in a month.
Hoping the crinums make a comeback!
Still, today was warm and I noticed a magnolia starting to bloom in the graveyard across the street, so all is hopefully not lost in these early days of a new year.
Our home is finally finished on the inside. The outside is another matter. Mother Nature is on a rampage and I'm not too happy either. She seems to be thwarting every chance I have to start the landscape this year. Relentless snow and rain stalled the exterior work while I have waited patiently to begin gardening. And then this past week an epic storm hit the heart of Minneapolis uprooting and snapping off huge trees all over the metro. Power has been out for over 600, 000 for many for days and the cleanup will take a long time.
So mostly I am thankful we didn't have any damage and were on the lucky side of the street that didn't lose power. It was great to see all the outstretched extension cords over the streets of our new neighborhood lending electricity. Next time we may be the ones without.
Meanwhile I'm getting impatient. I've missed more Garden Bloggers Bloom Days than I can count. So once again I am roaming around "borrowing" blooms to blog about. This time instead of the easy pickings in nearby yards or public gardens, I grabbed iPhone shots of the wildflowers blooming on my walking path around the lakes.
Feel free to help me with identification.
Some kind of water hemlock perhaps?
Golden Alexander
Tradescantia or spiderwort
The purple blooms have me stumped. A wild pea or some vetch?
Spot the yellow goat's beard or Tragopogon dubius, and below its beautiful seed head
Someone seems to have planted these domesticated posies on the trail
And with all the rain mushrooms are blooming too.
And as for my gardens? I'm anxious to share the landscaping process. Maybe next week...
I can only describe my 81 year old father this way; he's a crusty ex-Marine with a soft, gooey center.
At one time he liked landscaping and plants but that is long in the past. Now his yard is simply something he maintains with the help of friends from his church. It is a typical Florida front yard, a scraggly lawn dotted with anthills, a few azaleas, a crape myrtle (that has been crape murdered), a few palms and one live oak tree that provides a kind of constant mulching with its continual leaf-dropping, all surviving on a thin sandy soil.
There's the neighbor's grapefruit tree that grows over the backyard fence. It's an old tree that produces old-fashioned, not-ruby-red-inside, globes of fruit that taste good even though they are dusted with a sooty, fungusy, but not-quite-fatal condition. He saves the ripe ones that are within reach for his friends since grapefruit is forbidden with his medications.
On this visit my daughter and I followed our usual routine with my dad; breakfast at Panera's, a few handy(wo)man projects he can't do any more, sharing of photos, family history discussions, and poking around his stuff. On our way out to the shed I noticed something I'd never seen before.
A Collage of Lichens
Two sides of the backyard are surrounded with relatively new popsicle-stick shaped boards. But to the other side there is an aging stockade fence. Arranged on this fence as only nature can, is an assortment of lichens and moss that would put any Jackson Pollack painting to shame.
These lichens grow in a subtle collage of grays, greens and silver with a small splash of sulfury yellow against the weathered red wood. Viewed singularly they are like a carefully styled still life, from afar a beautifully blended tapestry.
Lichens Still Life
The fence reminded me of my father. At times blunt and abrasive with a complicated and compassionate soul hidden just beneath the surface.
My dad
After a quick search on lichens, well that's not possible, turns out there are hundreds of them, I did identify a few of the lichens yet not down to their scentific labels. Some lichens will only attach to stone, some to wood/plants and some to both. They can be an indicator of air quality with some sensitive to nitrogen and others not. Fascinating stuff!
At first I figured the pale green beardy growth was an another epiphyte (air plant) similar to Spanish moss that also grew in sprigs on the fence. However it is called usnea, or "old man's beard". It is a fructiose lichens. Crustose lichens are the flatter kinds and foliose varieties tend to be leafy in appearance. They "bloom" in all colors. Lichens are a composite life form combining a fungus with an algae. Beyond that I'm still in the novice category but curious to learn more.
Bearded, leafy, scaly, lots of lichens
The Garden Buzz
That leads to questions. Do we consider this part of the garden or just collateral nature since it's not intentional? Can we encourage and tend lichens in order to give our gardens an aged patina? Do they harm other plants and hardscape? Are they a symptom of other plant disease?
How about you? Do you have lichens in your garden and how do you regard them? Let me know in the comment section...
I guess it was bound to happen. See enough beautiful camellias and even though you know they're out of your zone, you start to wonder, what if?
During my "winter break" I love to look at the camellias blooming all over Savannah, in the squares, in courtyards, on traffic medians, just about everywhere. Until recently I've managed to remain detached. I've maintained a "this is an exotic treat to be appreciated only here" attitude.
Soft pink camellia in Savannah
But in the meantime I meandered through the Camellia Trail at the Coastal Georgia Botanical Gardens (at the Historic Bamboo Farm) while researching a story for Savannah Magazine. So many colors and shapes, such welcome color in winter. With their silky petals and golden centers they are very much like peonies for southern folk.
Although camellias weren't the topic of my article, I found myself doing a little quick self-taught camellia course, just to satisfy my curiosity. At least now I know the difference between the two most popular species; Camellia sasanqua and Camellia japonica.
Bright pink camellia with prominent yellow center
Camellia sasanqua blooms first from fall to early winter, and tends to have smaller blooms and a looser habit, while Camellia japonica blooms in winter to early spring, with bigger, bolder blooms and a stiffer, upright stature. Both are broadleaf evergreens with handsome dark green foliage.
Camellias in historic Charleston cemetery
The flowers of Camellia japonica fall off the plant whole when they're done. It's not only a tidy attribute, the spent blooms carpet the ground below make for an attractive mulch of sorts.
Around Savannah you'll see where people have placed these blooms for display in unusual places. Often when I pass by the courtyard of the Gordon Low home (he was father to the founder of the Girl Scouts) I see tht someone has placed a bloom upon every step leading up to the stately home. At other times you'll come upon a few flowers simply sitting on a stone bench. So southern, so Savannah.
Camellias on bench
And then I read two things that made me think, hmmm...perhaps I might grow a camellia in Minnesota.
--Turns out plant breeders have been working on cold-hardy camellias, Monrovia sells Ice Angels, 'Winter's Snowman', 'April Remembered' and 'Spring's Promise'. Only hardy to zone 6, they won't work for me where zone 5 is only a safe gamble sometimes. Darn.
--Reading a NY Times review of Tovah Martin's new book, The Unexpected Houseplant, I was struck by something she said, that any plant (within reason) could be adopted as a houseplant given the right conditions. Conservatory-grown camellias flourish, so why couldn't I grow one outdoors and bring it in just as it's about to bloom?
Sounds possible, but several sites say that camellias don't like change (well, who does?), and will drop their buds when moved or if conditions vary even a little. I'd love to hear of anyone's experiences with this idea?
You don't know what you got till it's gone. Looking for likely subjects for GBBD has become a shorter process since moving. Without my large gardens and living in a rental home temporarily it makes for quick work.
Although I think about my "old" garden, I haven't been too sad. You see our new neighborhood is a community of kindred gardening spirits. You might even say, that around here everyday is Bloom Day. Each time I take a different way home I'm treated to the sight of more and more lovely gardens filled to the brim with beautiful blooms.
Meanwhile in this yard I find myself grateful for flowers I might have dismissed before. Suddenly I appreciate the ordinary orange lilies growing alongside the yellow siding. A few of the plants I brought with me are blooming too. And on a side note, the tree peonies ("How Not to Transplant a Tree Peony") I blogged about last week are showing signs of recovery with a flush of new growth.
Here's my small contribution to this Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, a wonderful creation of Carol's at May Dreams Gardens. And also Happy Anniversary to my husband of 27 years.
Anything but ordinary in their beauty
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Small landscape roses I brought along, whose name has escaped me
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The taxi-cab yellow blooms of Coreopsis 'Jethro Tull'.
Dill blossoms in my "make-do" kitchen garden
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Pink veronica, some of the few survivors of the builder's heavy wood mulch here at the rental house.
And for my grand finale...pink crinums growing in my favorite Charleston graveyard (from last week's trip), bejeweled with raindrops after an afternoon shower.
What's a trip to Savannah without a quick jaunt to Charleston? Our excuse this time to check out the Heirloom Book Company, located at the memorable address of 123 King Street, a store devoted to cookbooks both old and new. Yes, ma'am, forget fiction, surely we're not the only ones who curl up with a good cookbook?
Stylishly spare in decor with food photography on the walls and bits of kitchenalia interspersed between the latest culinary tomes and vintage cheeky titles like, "Saucepans and the Single Girl". The subtitle is even better, "The cookbook with all the ingredients for taking that light-hearted leap from filing cabinet to flambe".
And what's a trip to Charleston without a run down Meeting Street and then a foray into the alleys and lanes for some serious window box gawking. By now they're lush and overflowing from all the sunshine and rain. Here are some new ones and a couple re-visits, after a few trips you cotton on to who plants the best ones. Enjoy...
Just coleus and begonias, but how lovely
Coleus, dragonwing begonia, torenia, impatiens, fern and Spanish moss
Green and white, always a winner, caladium, petunias, penta and licorice.
Mandevilla climbs the shutters on this signature home, note the little pig.
Red and yellow dominate these window boxes with matching urns, sedum and sword fern supply texture to croton, coleus and geraniums.
My how these have grown, almost touching the sidewalk now.
Flanking the Japanese maple, with colorful foliage and a few blooms.
This courtyard is what they call a jewel-box garden, so many points of interest but never busy. More color than the usual southern garden which relies on evergreen structure in the hot climate.
Longitude Lane where it narrows, see the woogedy cobblestones I endure for the most popular photos on the blog!
White blossoms against black shutters, so fresh even in the heat.
These were mere sprigs on my last visit in February.
