January Snow

The snow was there for a short time, and now it is gone.  Usually I don't have to rush to add new photos because of weather changes.  However, these photos taken last week are already out of date.

The only plant that I have provided winter protection for is the Agapanthus. It is root hardy for the zone, but last year the whole crown of the plant was frozen off.  It took a long time for the leaves to re-form and build up enough  energy to bloom, and then only a single stem.  I am attempting to avoid the damage with a leaf mulch over the top so it will have earlier and better blooming in 2013.

While it is hard to see it on the far side of the bench, the Arum dioscoridis var.cyprium, a variety native to Cyprus as its name notes, is up and green.  Okay, so the photo I am using was actually taken before the snow fell and the low temperatures arrived. But it doesn't look that much different now, with the leaves less rigid and more lax than this.  I am always amazed at those plants that do take advantage of the cold weather to grow and flower, only to disappear as the spring competition comes on.  For this Arum, I am guessing it is a way to avoid the intense heat and dryness of the Cyprus summer.

A view up toward the house shows some of the layers that the different trees and shrubs are starting to create.  The ink berry holly in the foreground, which forms a loose hedge along the road, creates a dark green and shady screen.  It was damaged a few years ago by a wayward car that broke off the tops of several, but they are suckering up from the roots, and with some good fertilizing, I hope they will provide a sense of separation and privacy for people walking the labyrinth.  The bare tree in the center is the Katsura, Cercidiphyllum japonicum 'Heronswood Globe.' While it will top out at about 12-15 feet, it really has quite a presence since being planted 8 years ago.  The trunk is quite thick, and appears to be older than the actual age of the tree.  Then further back is the Parrotia persica, which holds its leaves throughout the winter.  As it grows, it will provide a different layer, with a bit of screening year round.

It is fascinating to see what temperatures in the 20's do to the color of some of the foliage.  The Osmanthus heterophyllus 'Goshiki,' seen at the bottom, shifts from bright yellow-green into more intense red and orange shades with the dropping temperatures.  The Chamaecyparis pisifera 'Sungold,' the thread leaf false cypress on the right, becomes more yellow than normal.  The dark blue-green of the Pencil Holly remains the same, but seems much more intense against the other colors close-by.  These changes are impossible to predict when buying plants on a warm summer or fall day.

Gray and Purple New Year

The New Year begins, but the continuing gray and cold weather reminds me that there is a long winter yet ahead.  I know I am supposed to be looking at the "bones" of the garden, those parts that continue throughout the year providing it structure.  I look at what is visible on a dreary day, and consider it fairly successful.  But that is not enough.  What colors can I find?

Purple, though not in vast sweeps or brilliant hues.  For one thing, there is the dark purple leaved Ajuga reptans, 'Black Scallop.'  As usual, nurseries like to convince the public that very dark purples are supposed to be black, hence the name for this dark beauty.  Growing in the shade under some tall pencil hollies, these would disappear if they really were black.  But the deep, blackberry purple color is very appealing when all around it is gray.

This Ranuculus ficara, 'Brazen Hussy" is often described with black foliage.  Fortunately it is much more interesting than that, with mottled green and purple, and bright green stems.  I originally chose this because the dark leaves set off brilliant yellow flowers when little else is blooming.  But now I know the leaves provide an early and pleasant surprise.  That is, if some small creature doesn't nibble them off like last spring!  It continues to be a challenge to find plants that don't provide unintended food for the wildlife.  Yes, I could cover it with wire, but there would be a view of the armor rather than the leaves.

So the third bit of purple, though technically a lavender, is provided by the Thymus vulgaris 'Argenteus.'  Its normal summertime feature is the white edging on the leaves, in contrast to the gray thyme or yellow-green of the lemon thyme.  That all changes in the winter when the cold brings out this soft pinkish-lavender color.  I wanted to verify I had the right variety name, but none of the online nursery sites talked about this characteristic.  All of my notes confirm these plants are Argenteus, so there you are!  I won't claim to be the first to notice it, but in case anyone cares, this is something you will never know about when you buy your plants in the spring or summer.

The Penstemon also has nice, dark maroon/purple and green leaves, but nothing that looked like much in a photograph.  So that is all for now, though I will continue to search for more colors among the gray.

In the Bleak Midwinter

Its raining again, which means the many things that need to be done outside are not having any progress made.  I was able to run the mower over part of the grass, which vacuums up the leaves and chops them up while trimming the now brown zoysia grass low for spring.  Above you can see the Maryland Senna seed heads that need to be trimmed off, but for now they provide a nice profile in front of the Chesapeake.

There is one leaf left on the Serviceberry, Amelanchier canadensis, glowing in the otherwise gray light.  It is the one bit of color left outside.  The tree is the remaining one of about a dozen saplings I bought from a mail order nursery many years ago.  Most died within the first year, since I was trying to establish them in the sandy hill behind the house and it was a dry summer.  When I found two had survived, I took pity on them,and moved both up to the edge of the vegetable patch.  Once they had gained some size, I expected to return them.  This one survived the move, and has claimed its place outside the kitchen window, beside the shed.  As long as it doesn't get too big and block the view out the window, I will allow it a place. 

Perhaps more fitting for the somberness of the day, is the Cunninghamia Konishii tree that grows on the edge of the ravine.  Known as the Taiwan Fir, even though it is not really a fir, this originally was bought at a National Arboretum sale in 1998.  I loved the foliage, but never really had a place for it on the small city lot we owned, so it stayed in a pot for two years.  It was one of the first trees planted on the side of the ravine in 2001, and has grown to over 25 feet tall.  In this perspective the size of the trunk is dramatic, with the green of the dwarf bamboo, Shibataea Kumasaca that are about 4 feet high. About five years ago I moved about a dozen bamboo roots into the area below the Cunninghamia because it was rapidly eroding, soil sliding down 60 feet to the bottom.  The bamboo seems to be holding the soil well, at least protecting the top layer.  I hope so. I want to keep the tree for a long time.

Finally, a shot from November, with Broddy surveying her domain.  When I tried a few minutes ago to get her to chase a squirrel from the bird feeder with me, she stopped inside the door and gave me a look of disdain.  Why would she want to go out when it is cold and wet?  Maybe she is the sane one, since my feet are now damp and cold, and the squirrel has probably back, having driven the birds away and chowing down on sunflower seeds.  I better go check. 

Autumn Insects

These insect pictures all date back to September, so I must apologize for the delay, but they are too good to leave out.

Here is a Monarch Butterfly enjoying the Verbena Bonariensis, which attracts a large variety of insects.  Usually there are many Monarchs coming through the garden, but this was one of the few in 2012.

After a good bit of research, I determined that this is a Sphex wasp.  There are quite a variety of them, so I could not determine the exact species, but the black body and extremely thin waist is characteristic. 

I have seen these on a variety of the more intensely scented plants, such as the oregano growing at the front porch.  This one is on the Calamintha nepeta, or Catmint, which I bought from Plant Delights Nursery two years ago.  I had heard that they can spread around a lot, but I have not had that problem with this one,  It has stayed in its place, and blooms heavily from early summer through September.  It is always covered with insects eating the nectar.   

Also on the Catmint were many delightful Lightning Bugs.  I spent a lot of time checking this fellow against various identifying sources to be sure I got it right.  It is funny, for all the years of catching these in jars a a child, I though I knew how they looked, but without waiting until night, wasn't sure.

Who know they lived on the nectar of flowers, though it certainly makes sense!

 

The final shot is of a spider, the Argiope Aurantia, which has been a part of my gardens for years.  They build such large webs, and the zigzag that is visible below it is characteristic of these creatures.  I have always respected them, left them alone to catch whatever they can. 

I wonder where they go once the air gets cold, and everything has hfound a place to spend the next few months until the return of the warmth?

The last few days have been very busy with heavy autumn work.  Even with two of us working most of the time, there has been  lot to do, but also a lot got done.

This shot, taken just a week ago, is already out of date, since the leaves on the Crape Myrtle, 'Natchez,' on the left have already turned yellow, and most fallen to the ground.  The Katsura on the right has also lost most of its leaves.

One of the things that got done today was the final digging out of the grass and putting in edging strips for the entrance of the labyrinth.  It has taken so long because I have been debating how to finally lay it out.  In the photo on the left, in the lower left corner is a spreading rosemary, seeming at the end of the flower bed.  Now, the bed extends another four feet, and I moved part of the tree peony from the North Garden just a foot to the left of the rosemary.  Pictures later.

Much of the work for this time of year is not dramatic.  We spent a morning cutting down a yew hedge at the side of the sun porch, and digging out most of the stumps.  It will become the site for a triple bin compost heap. We put in a temporary hardware cloth and metal post bin for the winter.  I spent a lot of time and energy taking the top off of the existing pile, mixing it in with leaves that David collected and chopped up with the mower before they all blew away. 

The Viburnum rhytidophylloides, 'Allegheny,' is blooming profusely, again in the autumn, which always seems strange to me.  There are even a few red berries, but typically it gets hit by a frost before it can produce many berries, and just looks bedraggled. For a time of year when little is blooming, I shouldn't complain, but it is a surprising cycle.  Maybe it is as confused as the many daffodils, which have pushed their leaves up five inches above the round, thinking that maybe spring has arrived.  Two years ago the same bush did this end-of-the-year growth, and was severely frozen back by the winter cold, killing many branches.  It is just beginning to look good again. 

Every fall the climbing rose in the North Garden, a Rosa x 'Meivaleir' 'Garden Sun,' does a final explosion of flowers at the end of October into November.  Even knowing it will probably do so again, the exuberance of flowers are surprising, especially since the canes always look very beat up and bare.  

Fall bulbs

Even as the wind and rain of Hurricane Sandy beats against the windows, I still have pictures that show off a few of the bulbs that bloomed this fall.

Here is a Colchicum, the variety being lost in time, that started blooming in early September.  While I haven't been timely in getting the picture here, I still enjoy seeing it.  There are two clumps under the 'Little Gem' Magnolia, which don't get very much sun, but still hold their own in providing a few weeks of color in a spot where not much else is growing.  You can see some of the magnolia leaves that were dropping in the late summer around the base of the clusters.  I don't have a lot of good spots for these at this time, but I expect there will be more places as the other trees get larger.

Here is my Lycoris Radiata, from the Plant Delights Nursery.  The end of September was the first time it has bloomed underneath the Paperbark Maple tree, in its second year.  This is a very good spot since it still gets lots of light and sun on the leaves, which are now up.  There were only leaves last fall, but they collected enough energy that there are two flowering stalks. 

I planted three other Lycoris around the base of the standard/grafted dwarf cedar in the labyrinth.  I have wondered why they weren't doing anything.  Then last weekend I saw the leaves above the ground on one, but they were heavily chewed by one of my critters.  David blamed the deer, but the teeth marks were too small for one of those long-legged rodents.  I am guessing either a rabbit or groundhog, with my money on a rabbit.  We only see rabbits occasionally, but they also cover a wider range of area.  The groundhogs stay much closer to the edges since they move slower.  The maple tree is closer to the house and road, so it doesn't get the rabbits.  I need to move any that appear this fall to give them a chance.

Then there is the Oxblood Lily, Rhodophiala bifida, in the labyrinth.  Another selection for Plant Delights, and again, this is its second year.  I keep a metal stake next to this, as well as the other fall blooming bulbs, since it is easy to forget their location. 

This resides in what I call the back turn of the labyrinth, close to other plants that are distinctly red or orange in color.  In the background you can see a type of perennial foxglove which I am trying to verify the proper name.  Again, since this picture was taken in late September, there is a large cluster of leaves that have emerged, and will continue until late spring, building up the bulb for next year.  At about twelve inches high, I really like this since it appears when the rest of the garden seems to be dying around it.  I hope there will be a nice large clump in a few years, especially since it appears to be unattractive to the chewing rodents who claim this territory as their own.  I guess I can't blame them, but it gets expensive to feed them such exotic meals.

Finally, though I must quickly admit that is is not a bulb, I wanted to show the blooms of the Vigna caracalla, or Snail Flower.  David and I first saw this in Thomas Jefferson's vegetable garden at Monticello.  There were six foot high teepee poles with monstrous piles of vine and flowers in the late summer.  It is not a perennial, so this year it lives in a big pot, which we put beside the front porch.  When we originally planted it on the former bamboo fence and stick trellis, it was severely eaten by the deer, who also seem to love the fragrant flowers. 

It struggled through the summer, even though there was lots of sun.  David has read it is a very heavy feeder.  Since it is kept in the pot so we can move it inside when the weather gets cold, it needs to be heavily fertilized, which did not happen this summer.  These were the biggest flowers to be found.  We hope to do better next year, but we also need to find a safe place away from the deer. 

September Yellow and Blue

In the final days of September, there is an explosion of yellow at the front edge of the Labyrinth.  There are bits of blue mixed in, though as I look at the mix, I would like more blue for the contrast.  Toward the back of this photo, under the standard topiary cedar, "Feelin' Blue," is a yellow leaved Creeping Jenny.  Although the cedar loses much of its blueness over the summer, it is starting to shift back with the cooling weather.  On either side of the grass path in front are Goldenrod and a native Aster.  I never thought I would be growing Goldenrod in my flower beds!

Here you can see in front the Goldenrod, Solidago 'Golden Fleece,' which is about 15 inches tall.  This is the second full summer in this spot, and they are bulking up nicely.  In the background are Maryland Golden Aster, Chrysopsis mariana, which came from a local native plant nursery that has closed down.  They are three years old, and are just beginning to achieve a size that provides a good splash of color.  This is the first year they have bloomed together, making me look brilliant in my planning, but it is just luck.  I hope they continue this timing in future years.  What I really like are that they are very similar colors, and totally different shapes, so while there is the impact of the repetition, they are not boringly the same.  Finally, in the back right side of the photo, you can see some salvia providing a intense blue contrast.  I need more of these, if I can figure out the variety.  I am supposed to have Salvia nemorosa "Blue Hill," so maybe that is what they are?

Mixed into the Overdam Feather Reed Grass are small bushes of Bluebeard, in this case Caryopteris incana 'Sunshine Blue.'  This variety has a bright yellow leaf as well as the light blue flowers that grow in clumps along the stem.  I bought the original plant from a National Arboretum sale seven years ago, and it roots where ever the stems sit on the ground.  So there are now four plants.  I cut them down low in the spring, and they have a lot of competition from the grasses, but they come back in spite of the hot, dry summer, and provide a nice contrast to the grasses.  However, the grasses will need to get lifted and divided soon, so I hope the roots are not too wrapped around each other.