Fall in the Heather Garden

The big job last Saturday was pruning two large, vertically growing branches off of the large holly behind the house.  Pruning the holly has been an annual chore which requires climbing up into the tree, carrying the (unplugged) small electric chainsaw.  This year there were very few holly berries, probably because of the long drought over the summer, so there was nothing to pass on to the wreath makers at church.  After a weekend of hard work, and looking forward to being gone next weekend, here are a few pictures.

The Heather Garden sits on the north side of the holly tree, at the very top of the slope down to the Flats at water level.  Standing or sitting there is the best view of the Chesapeake Bay through a gap in the tall trees.  Heather seemed a good choice for this spot because it stays low, screening the houses on the Flats below while staying out of the view.  Winter blooming varieties were chosen to provide a subtle but distinctive color in January through March, when all else is gray and drab.

On the left of this photo is Prostrate Rosemary with pale blue flowers, the orange leaves of spirea, and on the right a fall blooming heather. I don't have the variety name at hand, so it will have to wait.  I will be sure to write about it in the future since it is one of a few, very tough, reliable heathers to survive our hot and dry summers.  Unfortunately, it has fairly small, white flowers, so there is not a lot of impact when it does bloom.

The tall stem with the long, narrow seed pods is a Maryland Senna,  Senna marilandica, which just finished it's first year in the garden.  This native perennial came from the Lower Marlboro Nursery, which just closed this year after many years of operation.  Many plants came from the nursery over the years, with several going strong in the flowerbeds. Others have gone native, intentionally planted into the wild area and spreading their seeds around.  There are three Sennas in the Heather Garden, and they will all get moved down the slope a bit, so the very tall flower stems are not quite so high in the sky when them bloom.    

This is Calluna vulgaris Multicolor, which has a dramatically colored foliage, here in its fall spectrum.  Once the weather gets cold, it will shift into a different mode.  I promise photos of that when it happens.  For this one, the focus is the foliage which glows like a small fire in the bright January sun.  There used to be three plants, but two were lost last winter.  Maybe because of the heavy snow?  This plant was very beat up, and was given a reprieve because it is such a bright spot, and it has recovered.  So, depending upon what it looks like next spring, I might get a few more and try again?

Once the color has gone out of the rest of the garden, the heather and rosemary provide foreground interest to the view of the Bay from the house.  You will have to wait for more pictures of that.  

Transitions in the Seasons

As the fall wraps up its process of shuttling down plants for the cold winter months ahead, there are also last glimpses of the color and beauty of last summer. 

This is one of the remaining coleus on the front porch. While there has not been a hard frost yet, which would have been immediately seen in blackened foliage on the various false indigo plants, the annuals have shut down.  These coleus have done better since they are in a protected spot near the warmth of the house.  We probably won't take cuttings this year, since it is hard to carry them through until the next spring.

The berries on the Ilex verticillata Winter Red have fully developed their color for the winter, while holding onto the leaves.  Once the leaves drop, the red of these berries will provide a great splash of color through February if the birds don't eat them first. A few will be cut to use for house decorations, but the bushes are still too small to do much of that yet. They can be added into any arrangement of greens or shown to dramatic effect by themselves on the bare stems.

It has taken several years to find a place for Winterberry, a deciduous holly grown particularly for these large berries on bare stems.    The ones planted down on the side of the ravine always struggled during dry spells, never getting enough water.  Once stressed, they would drop their berries.  Even one summer when watered through soaking hoses, they never got enough.  Two different varieties were tried in two different places with no success.

These two female bushes, with a pollinating male only a few feet away, are at the back edge of the labyrinth, up where they will get attention and water.  Actually, since this is the spot where the rain water from the other side of the street streams through on its way to the drain, they get lots of water without being constantly wet. While the site would be a bit crowded if they ever grew to their full size of 8 feet by 8 feet, they will be kept in place by pruning for decorations every year.

Just about fifteen feet away, along that same back edge with the neighbors property but close to the road is a Redbud .  It is Cercis canandensis 'Don Egolf,' named for the breeder at the National Arboretum who developed it.  It is a dwarf variety that will only reach ten or twelve feet tall. That was an important consideration since it sits right in front of the view from another neighbor's house to the Bay.  Their house sits high enough that when the tree is full height, they will be able to easily see over it.

These are the many buds that will explode with a brilliant magenta color early in the spring.  Redbuds bloom earlier than most other spring flowers, so the color is particularly satisfying against the grayness of their surroundings.  Since this is more of a bush in shape, it will provide lots of eye candy when there is little other.

This was planted in the year before my mother died, and only after telling my sister about it did I learn that Redbuds were one of Mom's favorite trees.  I think about her when I see it blooming, along with Lemon Lily (a yellow day lily), peonies, iris, hardy hibiscus, and a paper bark maple planted in her memory.  She is still a part of this garden. Once there are pictures of everything, I will put together a page of all of them.

Smells and Upside Down Bells

I was wandering around with my camera yesterday wondering what I might find to write about in the garden.  Far from the labyrinth, in the North Garden, sometimes called the Secret Garden, I was surprised by a strong perfume, similar to a gardenia.  It took some time to find the small flowers which sit back from the ends of the branches on the Osmanthus heterophyllus 'Goshiki.'

The bush has had a long and hard life, first planted down on the side of the steep bank.  It was tough, living in almost pure sand for about two years.  When digging it out to move it up near the house, the soil fell away from the roots, leaving them bare!  Now six feet tall and living for five years next to the fence, it has been treated royally, watered, mulched, and fertilized regularly.  It pays its rent by providing wonderful sprays of leaves to mix into the Christmas greens, enthusiastically growing new ones to replace those taken.  It has been so successful, two cousins were planted on the opposite property line, where they will provide screening and a barrier to the wandering deer.

Now for that upside down bell!  I know it is a stretch to do a word play for the common description of Anglo-Catholic services having "smells and bells."  But look at the picture to the left.  If you turned this Iris upside down, and it had a clapper, wouldn't it look like certain types of bells?

This reblooming German dwarf Iris "Baby Blessed" has been a long time favorite.  While researching it, I should not have been surprised that it won three different awards in the 80's. 

Long planted at the edge of the Viburnum (discussed in the last entry), it had become heavily shaded by the shrub.  After moving it to a new flower bed, it is now in a very favorable site.  With lots of sun and no competition, the previously struggling plants have surged forward in size and bloom.  Sited next to the labyrinth entrance and providing color both in the spring and fall is doubly nice.  Growing only about a foot tall, they invite a pause to stoop and enjoy.

It will be interesting to see how well the new bulbs planted nearby will complement or compete with it.

Katsura and Viburnum

The Katsura "Heronswood Globe" has now reached its peak color for the fall, a brilliant yellow that glows with the sun coming through the leaves.   This is almost the same color as Ginkgo leaves which are also changing color at the same time, but it is a much more manageable sized tree, only growing up to 15 feet.

I found it at the National Arboretum sale, like so many others, but it is commonly available in many nurseries.  In the five years it has been in place, it has grown a substantially thicker trunk and is now about 8 feet tall.  Some scale of its height can be determined by the Karl Foerster Feather Reed Grass on the right edge of the photo, which is about 5 feet tall.

I irreverently call it my lollipop tree, because of the round ball on top of the stick of a trunk.  It is the only tree that will be planted in the labyrinth, and provides shade for the center.  Soon there will be a chair under it where people can sit in the shade and look at the Bay.

To the right side of the photo, in the back, there is a large, dark green leaved bush.  That is a Viburnum rhytidophylloides Alleghany, which was developed and introduced by the National Arboretum. 

It has deeply indented veins in its leaves, creating shadow lines when the light is right.  The flowers come both in the fall and the spring, and sometimes, as in the photo at the left, berries have already developed before the rest of the cluster of flowers begins blooming.  It is unusual.

This is a very tough shrub, that was bought just after buying the house, and temporarily planted on the north side.  By the time it was moved into its current location a few years ago, it had already grown quite a bit with a large root system.  Digging it out, one root was particularly hard to cut off.  Then a few weeks later when the oil furnace and water heater seemed to have run out of oil, the technician discovered the copper supply line running twelve inches deep alongside the house has been cut!  Oops!

Because this shrub holds its leaves through all but the worst winters, it provides an important screening for the center part of the garden.  It blocks the view into the garden from the houses behind it, and further up the street, offering some sense of privacy.  Here is another view of a cluster of berries and flowers.

Going back to that chair under the Katsura, you may be wondering where is this view of the Bay?  Why is this blog called the Labyrinth by the Bay, when there have been no pictures that showed any kind of view, water or otherwise?   So, here it is, when you turn your back to all of these details.

425 Bulbs

So here are the 425 bulbs that planted last weekend - before going into the ground.

You can see each variety has a sheet underneath that was printed from the John Scheepers website.  I have been ordering bulbs from them for over ten years, and have been very pleased with the quality and performance of their stock. The information sheet includes a picture of the bulb in flower and the catalog description. I wrote on the form the depth and spacing for each, and attached a cut-out catalog picture so we could know the colors.

Most of them are forms of daffodils and narcissus - I still cannot tell when one or the other name is supposed to be used!  In addition to the daffodils, there are Scilla, Anemone blanda, Puschkinia, and three Eremurus or Foxtail Lilies.  All are chosen to deny the deer any tasty morsels.  In previous years, the Eremurus have had mixed results, so hopefully this year the right site will make all the difference.

Most are earlier, smaller varieties because they are planted among other perennials such as day lilies or they are massed in the very narrow strips in the labyrinth.  Our hope is that those planted in the strips will be dying back to the ground by the time the labyrinth paths need mowing so the mower can run over what is left.  

There is no picture of the bulbs after they were buried - all you would see is the smoothed over earth.  This is an exercise in delayed gratification, because there will be a long wait to see any results.  But, pictures will be offered next Spring, so that you can see the individual varieties and how well the mixing up by color and bloom period works. 

Continued Fall Color

While the native trees are just starting to turn colors in Southern Maryland, one tree is already showing its stuff in the front yard.

This Parrotia persica, or Persian Ironwood, started changing color two weeks ago. Like a parrot, it is flashy and a show-off. The leaves first fade from green into yellow, like those at the top of the photograph at the left.  Then, the yellow transforms through shades of orange to a deep red.  Since the leaves start changing at different times, there is a full range of colors that can be found once the process begins.  This particular tree was bought at the Friends of the National Arboretum Garden Fair several years ago at a 30 inch sapling.  As you can see, it is now over seven feet tall, and has a distinctive shape.  There is no central trunk, and if pruned differently it would have multiple trunks.  Side branches start growing out horizontally, then bend upwards, somewhat like an umbrella that has been blown inside-out.  At first I was worried that there was something wrong since I could not find any good pictures of the trunk-branch shape.  But I like it now.

Once established it has earned its common name of "ironwood" since it is very drought resistant, and shows no vulnerability to insects or disease.  It received little additional water this last hot, dry summer.  It didn't seem to care, while other trees suffered die-back.

Other plants that are continuing to bloom are the Agastaches.  The are two different varieties side by side in this photo.  The one on the left, which is shorter in size and a slightly grayer foliage color is "Acapulco Orange" while the other is "Orange Flare." I thought I was getting two different, though similar, colors between these two varieties, but the only distinction is the height and shape of each plant.  Let this be a warning to never trust a catalog picture to be accurate, especially if the colors in the photo have been increased in intensity.  I won't say which nursery these came from because I have not had a lot of success with the plants from it.  Part of the problem may be that the nursery is located in the Southwest, and the plants have not adjusted to the difference in climate.  I will be curious how these handle the winter, and come back in the spring. 

Specialist nurseries

While Homestead Gardens and Behnke's are regularly visited, high quality garden centers, they only offer a few of the unusual and riskier plants.  Another favorite local source of hard-to-find plant is the Springtime Garden Fair at the U.S. National Arboretum.  

While each has been provided many of the trees, shrubs, and perennials in the garden, they have limits.  Specialized plant mail order catalogs are the only way to find newer offerings or experimental varieties.  One of my favorites is Plant Delights Nursery in North Carolina.  Their climate and 7b zone is very close to ours in Southern Maryland, though our winters are occasionally colder.

Plant Delights was the source for the Hibiscus 'Robert Fleming,' shown at the left in full blooming mode several weeks ago. It has been a star performer, settling into its site quickly and starting to bloom in the middle of the summer.  It never stopped blooming until the end of September. 


What is equally impressive was to see the trunk that had developed over the summer.  Once the other plants around it had died down and were removed, the large, strong structure of the hibiscus was visible.  Stakes are visible in the photo, both on the right side of the picture and on the back side of the plant.  They were needed to keep the plant upright, since the plant is about 30 inches from one of the labyrinth paths.  Without the stakes, it would have sprawled across the grass, blocking the path.

The full test will be to see how it comes back after our winter weather, which is variable from year to year.  There is rarely enough snow to cover the ground, so there is nothing other than mulch to protect it from all of the fluctuations of temperature. 

I look forward to seeing how it does next year, now that it is fully established.  There will be progress reports in the year ahead. 

Fall Details

This last weekend was perfect for moving plants around, including three peonies and the dwarf smoke bush.  It was also time to plant a hardy hibiscus that had spent the summer blooming like crazy on the front porch.  However, there is no way to get an interesting photograph of chopped off stems sticking out of the ground.  Instead, it is time to pay attention to the small bits and pieces that are scattered around, underneath, and behind the usual display.

It was surprising to find one of the Sedum sieboldii is still blooming, though at the moment the variety is unknown.  Even more surprising were the yellow, black and white beetles feeding on nectar from the flowers, slowly working across the top of the flower heads.  I could not find any matching pictures of beetles in the short web search, so if anyone knows what these are, I would appreciate learning their name.

The two plants need a much more sunny location, now that the viburnum has grown out over them.  Along with the Sedum Autumn Joy, they will get moved into a newly opened flower bed by the road, where they can get lots of hot, bright sun.

Another plant that was a newcomer to the garden this year was the Black-eyed Susan vine (Thunbergia alata).  The plants arrived early in the season, and had to wait a bit before they were planted.  Two pairs were planted  at the base of a tripod of stakes, and one pair below a trellis in front of a clump of tall grass.

The plants needed to build up a clump of leaves and stems on the ground before they would start climbing up the various supports they were put beside.  The tendrils were somewhat weak and never got a tight grip upon their intended stepladders to the sky.  Yet, they did work their way up, and seemed to wrap round each other as they climbed.

There was never a big display of flowers, but a consistent sprinkling from the ground to the top.  Being at eye-level, the simple shape and elegance of each flower was appealing.  The pair that grew into and through the tall grass added a nice surprise of yellow flowers.

It is not clear if they did set any seed, and whether the seeds will come up next spring.  If we recognize the seedlings, we will let them grow, along with many other self-seeders.  But I don't expect to buy either new plants or seeds next year.