Six on Saturday: More White Trash

White is my favorite color. That is why I write about it a bit more than I should. It seems simple enough to me. However, Brent says that I am a white supremacist. Furthermore, he says that I am white to go with it! More specifically, he says that I am white trash. I doubt that a white supremacists would agree, but I really do not care. White just happens to be my favorite color. That is why I got six pictures of white flowers for this week, even if some of them seem to be rather trashy to the more discriminating sorts.

1. Zinnia is a warm season annual that will now be with us through summer. I am none too keen on annuals. Fortunately, I need not work with them. Incidentally, the zinnia colors are mixed.

2. Petunia is another warm season annual for summer. Like the zinnia, their colors are mixed. Extra white petunia were added to the mix because I like white. I was uninvolved with selection.

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3. Rose should not be as trashy as annual bedding plants; but this one is Iceberg. As if that were not bad enough, it is grafted together with purplish Burgundy Iceberg as a standard ‘rose tree’.

4. Azalea should be less trashy than rose; but I believe that this one is Fielder’s White. I am not certain. It somehow looks differently this year. Regardless, I like it. Bloom is deteriorating now.

5. Geranium, which is more correctly known as zonal geranium because of its darker foliar halos or zones, is actually Pelargonium X hortorum rather than a geranium. These are new cuttings.

6. Angel’s trumpet is perhaps the least trashy of these Six, but looks shabby now because it is blooming so well with only skimpy foliage. It mostly defoliated after transplant three months ago.

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/

Pittosporum tobira

There are too many other plants known as ‘mock orange’ for Pittosporum tobira to still go by that name, which is why it is more commonly known by its Latin name, or simply as ‘tobira’. The pleasantly fragrant flowers do not smell too much like those of orange anyway. The glossy and dark green leaves are like those of some hollies, without the distinctive prickly points. ‘Variegata’ has lighter green foliage variegated with white, but does not bloom as much. Dwarf cultivars, both variegated and unvariegatd, bloom even less. ‘Variegata’ has a tendency to occasionally produce stems of green (unvariegated) foliage that grow more vigorously and can overwhelm the original variegated growth if not pruned out. Common green Pittosporum tobira can grow as a small tree in the partial shade of larger trees, but is more often maintained as dense shrubbery less than ten feet tall. It makes a nice dense hedge in full sun, but unfortunately does not bloom if shorn regularly. All cultivars are resilient to drought once established.

Fragrant Flowers Often Lack Color

Unremarkable flowers can be remarkably fragrant.

It is presumptuous to believe that all the fancy breeding that is done to enhance the characteristics of flowers necessarily ‘improves’ them. Breeding only makes flowers more appealing to those who enjoy them in their gardens. Most flowers were already quite efficient for their intended function in their respective natural habitats long before humans started tampering with them. As far as flowers are concerned, they only need to get pollinated.

Some flowers use flashy color or patterns to be visually attractive to pollinators. Others use fragrance to be olfactorily appealing. Small but profuse flowers that are neither colorful nor fragrant have given up on insect or animal pollinators, so instead rely on the wind to disperse their pollen.

Not many flowers are both remarkably colorful and remarkably fragrant like freesia, lilac and wisteria were earlier in spring. Lily and bearded iris are of course very colorful, but not all types are fragrant. The big and bold flowers of cereus cactus, moon flower and angel’s trumpet are only fragrant because they bloom at night, and rely on nocturnal  pollinators who benefit from a bit more guidance in the dark.

Many fragrant flowers are somewhat showy, like gardenia, star jasmine, pink jasmine and honeysuckle. (However, gardenia are almost never healthy and showy locally.) Many of the most reliably fragrant flowers are really not much to brag about. Pittosporum tobira, Pittosporum undulatum and sweet osmanthus are known more for the appealing evergreen foliage than for their small and nondescript flowers. The flowers of sweet osmanthus may actually be difficult to find amongst the obscuring foliage. Night blooming jasmine is sometimes planted around corners or in the background because even the foliage is not too appealing, although the powerful candy-like fragrance is a favorite for warm evenings.

Fragrant flowers can be annuals like sweet alyssum, bulbs like hyacinth, or perennials like tuberose. Woody plants with fragrant flowers can be vines like stephanotis, shrubs like mock orange (Philadelphus spp.), or trees like Southern magnolia. Some have brief bloom seasons, while others bloom for quite a while.

Sport

There are not many old articles to recycle that conform to the ‘Horridculture’ meme for Wednesday. This one must do for now.

tonytomeo's avatarTony Tomeo

P80506Not just any sport; a witch’s broom sport! Remember the quidditch tournament of the first Harry Potter Movie? Well, it has nothing to do with that. You should not be watching such movies anyway.

This sort of ‘sport’ is merely a genetic variant growth. This particular sport happens to be known as a ‘witch’s broom’.

There is quite a variety of other sports.

Sometimes, a plant is going along minding its own business, when all of a sudden, it produces a stem with variegated leaves. Unlike the plain green leaves on the rest of the plant, the leaves on the sport are outfitted with white margins. In the wild, such a sport would probably not last long. Since it has less chlorophyll than the unvariegated foliage, it would grow slower, so would eventually be overwhelmed and shaded out by the more vigorous greener foliage. However, if someone happens to find…

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Algerian Ivy

Algerian ivy is big and bold.

Like so many fad plants that were formerly too popular, Algerian ivy, Hedera canariensis, now has a bad reputation. Ironically though, it earned its reputation for doing what it does best. It covers ground rapidly and efficiently. The problem is that it never seems to stop. It creeps anywhere it can, and climbs trees, fences and anything else that it can grab onto.

Aerial roots of climbing vines ruin paint and stucco, and accelerate rot of wooden fences and walls. Vines that get between planks or into cracks between bricks cause significant damage as they expand. Shrubby adult growth that blooms and produces seed develops where climbing vines reach the top of their support, or spontaneously in sunny locations. 

Nonetheless, with diligent edging for strict confinement and to prevent climbing, Algerian ivy works well as a resilient evergreen ground cover for large areas. Once established, it excludes weeds, and tolerates quite a bit of shade. Shrubby adult growth is uncommon if vines can not climb. Climbing vines may be harmless on bare reinforced concrete walls.

Algerian ivy is neither as finely textured nor as shallow as English ivy. Its broader leaves are about six inches wide, with blunter lobes. They stand higher on longer and distinctly blushed petioles. Algerian ivy is rare in nurseries now, but inhabits old landscapes, from which it sneaks into adjacent landscapes. Variegated cultivars are slightly more passive. 

In A Vase On Monday: Mothers’ Day

Yesterday was my first Mothers’ Day without my mother. I got her roses though. I mean I dug and canned the roses from her rose garden last winter. They live here now. Most were rather shabby and old, and probably should not have been salvaged. Nonetheless, they are all remarkably healthy now, even if only four bloomed so far. These are the same four that I got pictures of earlier, for Six On Saturday two days ago, so are somewhat faded now. Since these are the first blooms on elderly plants that, although healthy, are recovering from brutal transplant, the stems are quite puny. I gingerly set them in one of my mother’s Waterford vases, with nothing else. They would have disintegrated if I had tried to ‘arrange’ them. Instead, I simply left them facing away from each other in four different directions. Even if they had been in better condition, I really do not know much about arranging flowers. I only grow them.

‘Proud Land’ is my favorite of the entire rose garden, and the oldest of the original roses. I planted the first in about 1984, and added two more during the following winter.

‘Heaven on Earth’ is too billowy and pale pink for me, but I got it now anyway. The color was richer earlier.

‘Apricot Candy’ really was apricot colored not too long ago.

‘Julia Childs’ is surprisingly fragrant. It was likely a gift from Filoli, where my mother volunteered.

In A Vase On Monday, which is also known simply as IAVOM, is graciously hosted by Cathy of Rambling in the Garden. Anyone can participate. I did, at least this once. Simply arrange flowers or other material from the garden in a vase, and share pictures of it with commentary and a link back to Rambling in the Garden. Also, leave a comment at Rambling in the Garden with a link back to your post.

Layer To Propagate Favorite Plants

Ivy takes root as it grows.

Ivy is creepy. It creeps everywhere. As it does so, it extends roots into or onto whatever it creeps over. Not only does it do this to climb, but it also does this to propagate. It literally roots as it goes, to function more as a swarm of countless small plants instead of a single big plant. A bit of well rooted stem may grow independently from the original as a ‘layer’.

Many vines do the same, even if they are normally climbing vines that just happen to fall onto the ground. A few shrubs and trees, especially riparian sorts, are happy to do it also if lower limbs lay onto damp soil. Such a rooted stem is known as a layer because it lays on the ground to root. In a home garden, a layer might root below a layer of mulch or soil. 

In fact, many plants in home gardens are easy to propagate by intentional layering. Many develop roots more reliably if layered than if propagated from cuttings. They grow almost like cuttings, but while attached to the original plants to sustain them. Layering produces only one or a few new plants, unlike cuttings, but for most home gardens, that is enough.

Some plants are easier to layer than others. Pines and most eucalypti are uncooperative to the technique. Rhododendrons, azaleas and camellias layer relatively easily, but may take more than a year to finish. Elms and magnolias are even happier to layer, but rarely retain low stems. Some plants layer best after spring bloom. Others layer through winter.

An intentionally layered stem should be partially buried, with a few inches of stem below the soil, and a few inches of the tip of the stem protruding above the soil. Notching about a third of the way through the underside and applying rooting hormone promotes rooting. Regular watering is necessary through the process, which continues at least until winter. 

San Francisco iris

Modern hybrids really are more colorful and bloom longer, but those of us who are familiar with the originals still appreciate them.

tonytomeo's avatarTony Tomeo

P80505KThere really is a bearded iris that happens to be named ‘San Francisco’. It is related to ‘Los Angeles’, but not ‘San Jose’. (I really want to find a copy of ‘San Jose’ for my own garden!) Both ‘San Francisco’ and ‘Los Angeles’ are white with a slight blue highlight, and an even slighter reddish edge that is easy to miss. I can not remember which one of the two is whiter than the other, but the whiter one may lack the reddish edge altogether.

The San Francisco iris I remember is something completely different. It is a native west coast iris, Iris douglasiana (or douglasii or any other variation of ‘douglas‘ that any particular botanist happen to prefer) that happens to be endemic to the coastal region of San Mateo County south of San Francisco, and was probably endemic to San Francisco County as well. It would…

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Pine

This is why I am so protective of some of the trees at work, and why I am so hesitant to execute major changes to the landscapes.

tonytomeo's avatarTony Tomeo

P80429Redwood Glen was the ‘camp’ that we all went to in the sixth grade. It was probably our equivalent of what is now known as ‘nature camp’. For most of us, our experience at Redwood Glen was the longest time we had ever been away from our homes and families. We arrived on Monday morning, and returned home on Friday afternoon. It was something that we looked forward to with great anticipation for the few years prior.

While there, we studied nature in a variety of ways. We found animal tracks and made plaster casts of them. We went hiking through a variety of ecosystems, and went on a night hike. We searched for fossils; and I found and still have the most complete fossil of half of a fish. We studied ecology and native flora and fauna. We identified redwoods, Douglas firs, ponderosa pines, bays, live oaks, bigleaf maples…

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Six on Saturday: Roses for Momma

Actually, four of these ‘Six’ roses are ‘from’ rather than ‘for’ Momma. They came from my Mother’s rose garden. I never sent roses to my mother for Mothers’ Day, which is tomorrow, because she had more than I did. Besides, roses from a horticulturist would be rather mundane. Instead, I gave her rooted cuttings of all sorts of odds and ends, such as angels’ trumpet, pink jasmine, forsythia, flowering quince and a minute olive tree. Of course, only angels’ trumpet had yet to bloom. Red Souvine, ‘Roses for Momma’ composer, might have had something to say about that.

1. Double Delight is presently blooming quite abundantly at work. The yellow is normally more whitish. The pink is normally more reddish. We really have no idea what cultivar this is though.

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2. Amber Queen is also unidentifiable, and is also blooming remarkably well in the same small rose garden as Double Delight. I am impressed by how well they perform here, in a bit of shade.

3. Julia Childs resembles Amber Queen up close like this. It was a gift from Filoli. My mother volunteered there after retirement. Actually, a few items in my mother’s garden came from Filoli.

4. Apricot Candy might have been another gift from Filoli. The name is so appropriate for a garden in the Santa Clara Valley. I rather like the simplicity, although the flowers should be fluffier.

5. Heaven on Earth is one that I would not have selected. Yuck. Yet, my mother gave it a prominent situation, but never allowed me to add a most elegant John F. Kennedy rose to the garden!

6. Proud Land was one rose that I agreed on! There are three! They are the only remnants of the original roses that I planted within a few years of 1985. The flowers are typically more billowy.

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/