Male Delivery

Flowers of all fruit need pollination for fruit to develop. Most are self pollinating. Some require pollination from another variety. Some are dioecious, so female flowers need pollination from male flowers. A few, such as figs and muscadines, are even more complicated, but they are topics for another article. For now, I am concerned with my female kiwi vine, which is growing like a weed, but would have been unable to produce any fruit without a male pollinator. It was not a planned acquisition. I grew it from cuttings from a bit of vine scrap that someone brought to dump in the debris piles here. Because it grew so well, I requested some male vine scrap from the same person who provided the female vine scrap. Obviously, since he grows the female vine in his home garden, he also grows a male vine to provide pollen. I wanted the scrap while it was dormant through winter, because that is when I prefer to start hardwood cuttings. By the end of winter, I figured that it was too late to start cuttings, and that I would need to wait to try next winter. Then, just a few days ago, the person who provided the female vine scrap brought me a small piece of the male vine, which was already foliated and growing! This presents a challenge, since I lack access to a greenhouse with bottom heat and mist. I cut the stem into five cuttings. Three have single axillary buds that are still dormant. Two are vascularly active terminal cuttings, which are merely short shoots that grew from two axillary buds that are still attached. All but the smallest leaves were removed from the terminal cuttings. So far, they seem happy under a jar. Now, I can only watch and wait.

Six on Saturday: Bearded Iris 2025

Too many iris are blooming now to document. Therefore, I limited my selection to a few bearded iris, which includes one that is not within the landscapes at work. Perhaps some of the other species can be featured next Saturday. With so much in bloom, it is difficult to be selective.

1. Of these Six, only this one does not inhabit the Iris Garden at work. It inhabits a small roadside planter in front of the totally awesome White Raven Coffee Shoppe in Felton. I believe that it is more caramel and charcoal colored than it appears to be in this picture.

2. Of these Six, only this one is likely identified. It conforms precisely to the descriptions of ‘Rosalie Figge’, including its habit of blooming sporadically throughout the year, with abundant bloom about now. Another participant of Six on Saturday identified it as such.

3. This relatively small pale yellow but nicely fragrant iris might be feral. It was found at a dumpsite for landscape debris, so could have grown from a deadheaded seed. It would likely be bigger and more colorful if it had grown from a discarded rhizome of a cultivar.

4. This big blue iris is as floppy as beagle ears, and is so heavy that its tall stems fall over if not staked. That is why its nearly horizontal stalk is obscured in its background behind it instead of visible below it. It is not actually as purplish as it seems to be in this picture.

5. Although more billowy and likely a bit bulkier, this garish iris needs no staking. Its tall and rather thin floral stems are sturdier than they seem to be. This happens to be one of my favorite bearded iris in this particular group. It was originally a gift from a neighbor.

6. Color is again deficient. This bearded iris is not as purplish as it seems to be here. It is actually a rich burgundy red. I remember the origins of all the other iris here but can not remember how this one was acquired. I do not remember ever seeing it before this year.

This is the link for Six on Saturday, for anyone else who would like to participate: https://thepropagatorblog.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/six-on-saturday-a-participant-guide/

White on Wednesday

Syringa vulgaris ‘Madame LeMoine’ French hybrid lilac bloomed bright white and right on time as March became April, and is not finished yet. It was somewhat of a surprise, since it remains canned until development of the landscape that it should eventually inhabit. It does not grow much while canned, so was not expected to be so spectacular in bloom. It is so spectacular that it was temporarily placed into a prominent position within another landscape, with its can mostly obscured by other vegetation, until it finishes bloom.

However, regardless of how spectacular it is, it reminds me that white is not necessarily the best color for all flowers. White happens to be my favorite color, and lilac happens to be among my favorite early spring flowers, but to me, lilac bloom should be lilac colored. I mean, it really should be that lavender or pastel purple color of traditional and formerly common old fashioned lilacs. The only advantage to this white floral color is that it would be appropriate to situations in which white is the most desirable color, or where lavender is undesirable.

Just as many flowers are at their best in white, some are best with other colors. Southern magnolia, lily of the valley, moonflower, gardenia, Easter lily and old fashioned calla are exclusively white, and would look weird in any other color. Gladiolus, tulip, hyacinth and rose can be all sorts of colors, but happen to excel at white. A few other flowers that can be all sorts of colors happen to not excel at white, such as bougainvillea, crape myrtle, English primrose, tropical hibiscus, wisteria and, of course, lilac. Both white crape myrtle and white bougainvillea happen to have been selected specifically for landscapes here, so perhaps white lilac is not so out of place.

Six on Saturday: Azaleas 2025

Azaleas make it difficult to limit this post to only six pictures. So many cultivars are now in bloom. However, azaleas also make it easy to comply with suggestion #7 of the Six on Saturday participation guide, which suggests minimal verbiage. There is not much to say about them, since I do not know much about them, or even what cultivars they are. I can only guess the identities of half of them. Even if I could identify the cultivars, I could not identify the species. I only know that all azaleas are of the same genus of Rhododendron. I suppose that, in this regard, they could qualify as a few more of Rhody’s rhodies.

1. ‘Hino Crimson’ happens to look very much like this. The small leaves are dark, but not quite bronzed presently. They were bronzed, but only during the coldest winter weather.

2. ‘Coral Bells’ happens to look very much like this. It is the most common azalea within the landscapes at work, and is remarkably reliable with its remarkably abundant bloom.

3. The bloom of this cultivar seems to be even more abundant because almost none of its foliage is visible beneath it. These flowers are little, but bigger than those of ‘Coral Bells’.

4. This azalea seems to be a ‘florist’ cultivar rather than a landscape cultivar. It was likely left by someone who worked in a nearby office years ago, and then found by a gardener.

5. Within the spacious landscapes here, each cultivar of azalea is installed in groups of at least a few individual specimens. Like the florist azalea, there is only one of this cultivar.

6. ‘Fielder’s White’, which is my favorite of the common azalea cultivars, happens to look very much like this. After restating this phrase thrice, I still can not identify any of these.

This is the link for Six on Saturday, for anyone else who would like to participate: https://thepropagatorblog.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/six-on-saturday-a-participant-guide/

Off Color II

Borago officinalis, borage, as I mentioned last October, blooms almost exclusively with blue flowers. At the time though, a few maturing seedlings were blooming with a few pink flowers that eventually were replaced with blue flowers. Now that more are blooming, a few are doing so like this, with white flowers. Also last October, I mentioned that, although white is my favorite color, I expect borage to bloom blue. Not only does blue seem like a more natural color for it, but is also prettier. White borage seems rather mundane. Fortunately, most bloom blue, with enough that bloom white for my own garden, where I am less concerned with how pretty they are. I now wonder if they will be true to type. In other words, I wonder if those that bloom white will produce seed for more that bloom white, or if they will revert to bloom mostly blue. I will take what I get, I suppose. I have not yet found one that I do not like. I would be impressed, or perhaps concerned, by orange bloom, but I seriously doubt that will happen. I should be more concerned with what to do with all these borage seedlings than with their bloom color. I will plant only a few at work, which leaves more than a few for my home garden. Although supposedly not invasive, they are also supposedly proficient with self seeding. Once they get established within my garden, they will likely always be there. I suppose that I should learn to exploit their culinary applications, particularly for those that bloom blue where I do not want them, but perhaps less so for those that bloom white where I do want them. Now I am getting ahead of the situation. After all, they are still just seedlings.

Six on Saturday: More Gifts from Tangly Cottage Gardening

Tangly Cottage Gardening was a primary destination of my vacation. I posted pictures of it last week. These are six more species that I received as gifts.

1. Acanthus spinosus, armed bear’s breech has the strangest common name of these six. Is the bear armed or just its butt? Regardless, I happen to like common Acanthus mollis, and had coincidentally been wanting to try this less common species as well. Now, I will.

2. Echinops ritro, globe thistle was a minor crop where I worked with cut flowers during the summer of 1986. I did not enjoy harvesting it then, but recently, I had coincidentally been wanting to add a single specimen to my garden. I just could not think of an excuse.

3. Helenium autumnale, common sneezeweed also has an amusing common name. I am unfamiliar with this species, although its botanical name somehow seems to be familiar. I got three distinct cultivars of it now! If we were not already acquainted, we will be now.

4. Brachyglottis greyi, daisy bush has a contrarily mundane common name. Many other species could easily qualify for its name. Somehow though, it makes it more compelling. Now, I want to see what makes it distinct from all other daisies, bushes or daisy bushes.

5. Leycesteria formosa, Himalayan honeysuckle or pheasant berry is yet another species that I had coincidentally been wanting to acquire. I embarrassingly did not recognize its name initially. I was told that I would find its flowers to be more appealing than its fruit.

6. Lupinus, lupine is regifted and unidentified. I do not know if it is annual or perennial. Because it was grown in a can rather than merely shared as seed as annuals should be, I suspect that it is perennial. I will find out. This one can contains several swell seedlings.

This is the link for Six on Saturday, for anyone else who would like to participate: https://thepropagatorblog.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/six-on-saturday-a-participant-guide/

Unexpected Lemon

‘Meyer’ lemon was never my favorite lemon. However, when I grew citrus trees in the early 1990s, it was the most popular of forty or so cultivars. There really is nothing else like it. Relative to other lemons, its fruit is distinctively less acidic, more richly flavored, and sometimes ridiculously abundant. All other lemons are more sour but less flavorful. Besides ‘Meyer’ we grew ‘Lisbon’, ‘Eureka’, ‘Variegated Pink’ and ‘Ponderosa’. Of these four others, only ‘Ponderosa’ is not a mutant of ‘Lisbon’, although its comparably mild flavor and robust acidity suggest that it is. All four grow as small but upright trees. Only ‘Meyer’ naturally grows broader than tall, sort of like shrubbery.

‘Eureka’ lemon inhabits one of the landscapes at work, where it produces enough average lemons for those of us who know about them. I grew cuttings from it for my own garden, but am concerned that, since they are not grafted onto dwarfing understock, they could eventually grow quite large. I also grew an ungrafted cutting of ‘Ponderosa’ lemon for the same landscape at work that the ‘Eureka’ lemon already inhabits, because it happens to be at the Ponderosa Lodge. ‘Ponderosa’ lemon grows with an upright form, but because it naturally stays smaller than ‘Eureka’ lemon and its relatives, I am not too concerned about it growing too large.

‘Meyer’ lemon came to my garden like a stray cat. Well, it is a bit more complicated than that, but it involved about as much planning. The history of how it came to its previous home is too extensive to describe here. To be brief, I installed it into a garden a few years ago because someone wanted it there after previous unsuccessful attempts to grow the same. Then, it needed to be removed prior to the sale of the home. I did not know what to do with it, so brought it here. I canned it and set it aside until space becomes available for it. I really did not expect it to do much until then. I sort of hoped that someone else would want it for their garden, but after we had been through so much together, I also sort of hoped that it would stay here. Anyway, while I was busy ignoring it in its partly shady and less than ideal situation, I noticed that it had produced this single lemon for me over winter. Well, I suppose that it will be a permanent feature of my garden now.