This hedge of modern Hydrangea is completely devoid of bloom.
Modern cultivars of Hydrangea were not easy to adapt to. I learned how to prune old fashioned cultivars during their winter dormancy. I knew to retain the terminal buds of their retained canes to bloom for their following season. Pruning canes of modern cultivars back shorter and depriving them of their terminal buds in order to promote shrubbier growth seemed to be more like pruning roses. I did not trust them to bloom without their terminal buds. Not only do they bloom, but they do so a bit more abundantly, and with sturdier floral trusses that last and retain their floral color somewhat longer than those of old fashioned cultivars. Old fashioned cultivars have bloomed so reliably for the past few years that I am not so hesitant about pruning them back. However, this year, they inexplicably did not bloom. I do not mean that they bloomed sparsely, or that a few of the total did not bloom. I mean that none of the modern hydrangeas bloomed at all. The only hydrangeas that bloomed within the landscapes at work this year are the few remaining old fashioned sorts. All of the hydrangeas are healthy with vibrantly green foliage. Neither disease nor insect pathogens have been problematic. I can not explain this odd lack of bloom. With such vigorous canes, pruning should be easy this winter. However, I am more likely to leave awkwardly long canes in order to retain their terminal buds. Even if they are not necessary, terminal buds might provide an earlier prebloom prior to the bloom of stems that grow from lateral buds. I can not help but wonder why, while modern cultivars did not bloom, old fashioned cultivars did. A colony of unpruned feral Hydrangea near the bank of Zayante Creek was unusually prolific in bloom.
Heather just became a bit less mysterious. We now know why she came here to work as a mouser, and protect fruits and vegetables from rodents. A neighbor, prior to relocation to Hawaii, left her and a few other kitties with another neighbor who intended to find new homes for them. Another kitty who already lived at the second home was so inhospitable to her that she stayed outside most of the time, and eventually disappeared. She was assumed to have been a victim of coyotes. All but one of the relocated kitties, who happens to be Heather’s mother, were assigned to new homes. Heather’s mother and the original kitty of the household then relocated a few miles away. It is impossible to know where Heather was between leaving her previous temporary home and arriving here. She could have been here longer than anyone was aware of. Because we knew nothing about her when she arrived, she likely got more vaccines than she needed. She was already spayed, although not provided with a chip. Ultimately, she seems to be happy here, and has been very proficient with dissuading rodents. I am pleased that she is happy and decided to stay.
Cool season annuals are beginning to replace warm season annuals not because weather is beginning to cool for late summer, but because warm season annuals are beginning to deteriorate after their long and warm summer. Deterioration of remaining petunias was accelerated by warm weather today. It was warmer than a hundred degrees. Fortunately, marigolds are the first and only cool season annuals that were added into the landscapes already and they tolerate such warmth. I believe that they are varieties of ‘Durango’. I do not know what the petunias that they are replacing are, but they resemble old fashioned red, white and blue varieties of ‘Madness’ that were too popular during the Bicentennial Summer of 1976, although a comparable white variety is notably lacking.
1. ‘Madness – Blue Vein’, if I remember accurately, looks something like this. Its name is not as appealing as its color, and might have been less appealing in the summer of 1976.
2. ‘Madness – Blue’, which looks like this, was one of the three most popular varieties for the summer of 1976, with ‘Madness – Red’ and ‘Madness – White’, but is almost purplish.
3. ‘Madness – Red’ is more convincingly red, very much like this, and just like ‘Madness – Blue’ and ‘Madness – White’, was very popular in profusion through the summer of 1976.
4. ‘Durango – Gold’ is not very different from marigolds that were overly popular during the 1970s, when ‘Madness’ petunias were popular. I do not know when it was developed.
5. ‘Durango – Orange’ is just as familiar as ‘Durango – Gold’ because of its similarity with old fashioned varieties. Only a few specimens of ‘Durango – Flame’ are blooming nearby.
6. ‘Durango – Red’ is the only of these Six that, to me, does not seem to resemble the sort of varieties that were popular in the 1970s likely because red bloom was developed later.
Many home garden Campanula are easier to identify by cultivar name than by species.
Of the hundreds of varied Campanula (Campanula spp.) that can be found in the wild, almost all of the few grown in gardens are small scale ground covers or creeping perennials, with blue or white bell or star shaped flowers. Most campanula fill in nicely between clumping perennials, and will spread wherever they have other plants or features to shelter them, although they are rarely reliable as ground cover for exposed areas. Campanula can be grown from seed, but is easiest to propagate by division. Pieces trimmed off from around the edges or pulled out of shrubbery also root very easily.
(This article is recycled from several years ago, so some of its information is irrelevant to current conditions. Also, it posted more than half a day late.)
Weather should but does not always get cooler at this time of year.
After the coolest July in a century, and one of the mildest summers in memory, the recent warm weather at the end of August seemed unseasonable, even though it is actually not unusual for this time of year. Predictions of an Indian summer for this year were made shortly after predictions for this past El Nino winter materialized. The ash blasted into the atmosphere by a volcano in Iceland may have changed all that. No one really knows. The weather continues to change like the weather.
For right now though, the damage caused by the sudden warmth is becoming evident. Fortunately, most of the damage is harmless and should be gone by winter. Some is a bit unsightly. The desiccation of small or potted plants may unfortunately be as serious as it looks. The most severely damaged plants may not recover.
The yellowing inner foliage that eventually turns reddish brown in redwood trees is actually a normal response to foliar desiccation that results from warm or dry weather. As long as the outer foliage remains healthy, this discoloration is harmless. Inner foliage that is more expendable is merely being shed to conserve moisture for the more important outer foliage. This shedding foliage will deteriorate and get cleaned out by wind and rain in autumn.
This older foliage typically sheds naturally throughout summer. However, because the summer was so mild, much of the foliage that should have been shed was not shed. As the weather only recently but suddenly became warm, all the foliage that should have been shed earlier became discolored and began to shed at the same time, which is why it is now so much more noticeable.
A few other trees are also shedding some of their foliage. Trees in areas that are not landscaped or watered may drop dried leaves in even slight breezes. Leaves of deciduous trees that would be colorful and pliable if they fell on schedule in autumn are instead crispy and brown. Maple, oak, ash, sycamore (including plane), willow, poplar, eucalyptus and madrone are among the most affected. Fortunately, this is a harmless response to the warm weather after such a mild summer.
Some Japanese maples are damaged more significantly, but should recover. Because they are naturally understory trees (which prefer to grow in the partial shade and ambient humidity of larger trees), they are not well adapted to warm and dry weather, particularly if it becomes warm as suddenly as it recently did. Some got roasted so quickly that the foliage stays attached to the stems as it shrivels and dries. Foliage that is still partially viable (and hopefully functional) should fall in autumn and winter. Foliage that is necrotic (dead) may linger until it is forced to fall by new foliage that emerges next spring.
Potted plants that were desiccated by the heat may not be so fortunate. Even though they can be unsightly, roasted plants that may be rooted into the ground through their drainage holes should not be moved right away, since the roots that are in the ground are the least damaged and the best hope for recovery. Similarly, roasted plants that hang over the edges of their pots should not be pruned back too severely until later, since exposing the pots to more sunlight will cause more heat to be absorbed if the weather gets warm again.
Heather thinks that she just found a new house with a view.
Donations can be annoying. At the farm, neighbors sometimes left random pots and cans from their home gardening at the gate on the road. Sometimes, they left other bits of gardening supplies, such as short pieces of PVC pipe, a pound or so of lawn fertilizer, or perhaps a broken rake. Only very few of the standardized cans could be added to the huge pile of recycled black vinyl cans that the horticultural commodities were grown in. The majority of what was left was merely more junk that we then needed to dispose of. If I found such items while driving a sedan, I needed to move them out of the way of the gate and return with a pickup to retrieve them. The gate is directly in front of the very well kept home of a nextdoor neighbor, which made such piles of junk even more inappropriate. The same happens here. Neighbors leave all sorts of useless random gardening paraphernalia and deteriorating houseplants. Because we do not grow acres of horticultural commodities in thousands of cans, the few random cans that I get here can actually be useful. Some of the houseplants recover in the nursery, and get recycled into landscapes or shared with neighbors. Perhaps such donations are not so annoying. I did happen to find this small home garden ‘greenhouse’ contraption to be quite annoying though. It was left in my parking space as if it were important. I would never actually purchase such an item. I am accustomed to working in real greenhouses. This thing is for those who enjoy gardening in small urban gardens, not professionals. I wanted to find who left it so that I could return it. Then, it occurred to me that the small banana plugs might appreciate it this winter. Oops.
French marigold is one of the most popular annuals of autumn. Pot marigold, Calendula officinalis, provides similar color with daisy like flowers. Most are bright orange or yellow. They lack only the warm burnished red of French marigold. They compensate with more variety of their pastel ranges. Their single or double blooms are two to three inches wide.
Within cooler climates, pot marigold blooms between spring and late autumn frost. Here, it blooms better through mild winters, with only minor pauses for any mild frost. It is more likely to dislike summer warmth. Like many seasonal annuals, it can technically grow as a short term perennial. However, also like others, it performs best for a particular season.
During their season, taller varieties may grow a bit higher than two feet. Most are shorter. Their oblong and slightly fuzzy leaves are mostly between two to five inches long. Some develop wavy margins. Mildew is sometimes a problem. Deadheading promotes bloom. However, a few deteriorating flowers can remain to provide seed for another generation. Subsequent generations eventually revert to simple and single yellow or orange bloom.
There is no rush yet. Some cool season bedding plants can go into their gardens as late as autumn. Ornamental kale and cyclamen can be as late as winter if necessary. Locally, autumn and winter can be a bit later than elsewhere. Also, different cool season bedding plants rely on different schedules. Ornamental kale and cyclamen actually prefer to wait.
Cool season bedding plants are the same as winter bedding plants. They also qualify as cool season annuals and winter annuals. However, most have potential to be perennial, and some can perform after winter. Some are warm season bedding plants within cooler climates. Locally warm summers and mild winters limit their performance very differently.
All bedding plants provide a profusion of temporary floral color for their assigned season. Cool season bedding plants replace deteriorating warm season bedding plants. Within a few months, warm season bedding plants will become seasonal again. Most that can be perennials are disposable for simplicity. Replacement is generally simpler than salvage.
Installation of bedding plants is often contingent on performance of their predecessors. If petunias of last summer still bloom nicely, pansies for autumn may need to wait. Pansies might need to be early though, if petunias are already shabby. Most cool season bedding plants are fortunately adaptable in that regard. Merely a few must wait for cooler weather.
Scheduling for seeding of cool season bedding plants is not as adaptable. Seed can not germinate and grow faster if late. Actually, seedlings grow slower as weather gets cooler. Seedlings for some species should be growing already. Others should start about now or rather soon. Some should start in cell packs or flats. Several others prefer direct sowing.
Pansy and viola are probably the most familiar and reliable cool season bedding plants. Marigold and perhaps snapdragon are popular now, but may not perform through winter. They become seasonal again as winter ends. Sweet William and a few sorts of primrose are potentially perennial. Any that survive through summer could resume blooming soon.
What a difference seven weeks can make! Updates regarding the Memorial Tree in Felton Covered Bridge Park are typically posted annually about the twelfth of July. Growth is obvious after a year. I did not expect it to be so obvious after less than two months between the twelfth of July and the thirtieth of August. I suppose that I should not be surprised. Even after most growth occurs through spring, some growth continues through late summer, and perhaps as late as the beginning of autumn, immediately prior to the slow initiation of dormancy for winter. Specimens of this species, valley oak, Quercus lobata, are innately vigorous and grow faster and more vertically while young. Growth decelerates and redirects itself laterally as trees mature and age. Otherwise, if they continued to grow as vigorously as they do while young, they would collapse from their own weight before they get to be as old as elderly trees get. Some live for more than six centuries, so their technique is obviously effective. Four nearby California black oaks, Quercus kelloggii, are not likely to get to be five centuries old, and are more likely to live for only one or two centuries. Unfortunately, two of them are not in comparably exemplary condition. One must be pruned for removal of major necrosis, and direction of new growth. Another requires major structure pruning. All four should be pruned for clearance above the surrounding parking lot. Perhaps I should be more concerned with these four California black oaks now that the Memorial Tree will need nothing for quite a while. Perhaps I should investigate the condition of the Monterey cypress Memorial Trees within the nearby Memorial Grove, which are growing well enough that surrounding box elders should be pruned away to relinquish more space for them.
Japanese anemone, Anemone hupehensis, which is now Eriocapitella hupehensis, is one of several species that I had been wanting to grow for a very long time. Like peony, goldenrod, Joe Pye weed, Indian paintbrush, beautyberry and fancy hybrids of clematis, they are prominent features of fancier gardens in other regions. Some of such species do not perform well here. Others are merely unpopular, but might perform well here if they get the chance. I see them all only in pictures, so can not distinguish what their respective situations are. The only anemones that I had ever encountered while young were sea anemones on nearby beaches. In college, I met poppy anemones, which we know merely as anemone, but found that they are not as reliably perennial as they are purported to be. Japanese anemone had been elusive, until I met a very established and perhaps invasive colony of it in an old landscape near Oakland less than fifteen years ago. I figured that if it can be as happy as it was in a relatively coastal climate, it could be happier here with a bit more chill during winter. Until then, I assumed that minimal chill was a limiting factor to their performance here. ‘Honorine Jobert’ seemed to be the epitome of single white Japanese anemone, but I had not seen any white cultivars, even those with double flowers, that were not alluring. Then, I discovered an unidentified cultivar of Japanese anemone on the edge of a rose garden here. It survives as a remnant of a preceding perennial garden, but does not perform well now that redwood roots have become so aggressive. Furthermore, its floral color is unimpressive. It is not white, but is not quite pink either. Heck, it is not even white blushed with pink. I do not know how to describe it. Initially, it seemed to be only slightly pinkish pale gray. Ick! This year, it seems to be slightly more pinkish than it had been, which makes it slightly less disappointing. However, now that I know it is here, I will not try any other Japanese anemone until I at least try to grow this one well. I am confident that if I relocate bits of it to a garden where it does not need to compete with other vegetation, it will bloom with a more appealing shade of pink. I will not mind that it is not white if it does that much. Then, if it can perform well, I will know that I can grow a white cultivar of anemone also. There is no rush though. Although white happens to be my favorite color, and Japanese anemone happens to excel at white, pink can be appealing also. This is my very first Japanese anemone, and regardless of how unimpressive it is now, I am pleased with it.
Tony Tomeo 