Abutilon

Bloom may become more scarce with cooling weather.

Abutilon X hybridum grows wild from seed within some of our landscapes. Although not prolific enough to be naturalized, dispersion of any viable seed seems odd for hybrids, since most hybrids are sterile. Of course, I do not know for certain if their ancestors were actually Abutilon X hybridum. They could have been other simple species of some sort. Besides, the name seems to apply to any cultivar of unknown parentage, including a few that are not actually hybrids.

Furthermore, even those that are generally sterile hybrids only needed to produce a single viable seed to start the process. Such a seed would likely grow into something that is more genetically stable, and therefore less sterile than its parents. Regardless of their supposed genetic stability, or because of their lack of it, their individual floral color is delightfully variable.

I am no more certain about the common name of this genus, species or group of hybris, which I know simply as flowering maple. Some know it as Chinese lantern. A few may know it as Indian mallow or parlor maple.

I am not so keen on the flowering maple, or whatever it is, for refined landscapes. However, the landscapes here are not so refined, and some are quite rustic. They benefit from the relaxed style, sporadic bloom, and open form of whatever this is.

Bloom is always sporadic, but is a bit more abundant during warm weather. Conversely, it can get scant while the weather is cool through winter. I am impressed by the few flowers that continue to bloom on this particular specimen. So are the hummingbirds. Bloom will likely become more scarce now that the first mild frost occurred last night. Also, foliage may get sparse until warmer weather next spring initiates regeneration to continue the seasonal cycle.

Monocarpic?

Agaves refuse to die.

Monocarpic species bloom only once. They die afterward. Many annuals are monocarpic by default. After bloom and production of seed, they have served their purpose of perpetuating the next generation. Some may bloom more than once within their respective season, but realistically, do not expect to live for long after doing so.

Agaves are monocarpic. Unlike annuals, some grow for many years before maturing enough to bloom. In fact, the century plant is known as such because, in the wild, it supposedly takes a century to mature enough to bloom and finally die. Of course, they do not take nearly so long to bloom within cultivation.

That could be either an advantage or a disadvantage. Their bloom is awesome, but their death is ugly. Removal of their deteriorating but wickedly thorny foliage is a horrid chore. The sap from their foliage causes a rash that can be comparable to the allergic reaction from poison oak. What is worse is that they are not really monocarpic!

Again, that can be either an advantage or a disadvantage. They provide more than enough pups to replace their deteriorating carcass. However, these prolific pups must be divided from each other and the deteriorating carcass of their parent. They are too numerous to accommodate within the same garden or share with neighbors who likely do not want them. Furthermore, they continue to generate pups long after the parent and first litter of pups is gone. Without intervention, they seem to never die completely. Even with diligent intervention, they can linger for many years.

This particular agave should have remained vegetative for many years, but bloomed after only two or three years. The first litter of pups bloomed immediately afterward, as this picture demonstrates. Ultimately, we would like only a single pup to replace the parent.

Six on Saturday: Good News

Horticulture occasionally involves some degree of disappointment. However, more than occasionally, it is surprisingly gratifying. After the mysterious disappearance of a colony of Louisiana iris, I remembered how much I enjoyed growing them. Unplanned bananas will be fun to grow in the future. Unseasonable bloom is at least as gratifying as seasonal bloom.

1. ‘Black Gamecock’ Louisiana iris was a gift from Tangly Cottage Gardening. Therefore, they were VERY important to me. I split and plugged them into a thirty foot long row on the edge of a pond at work. Sadly, after growing happily through summer, they suddenly and inexplicably disappeared. I am determined to not be unrealistically saddened about this, though. They were intended to be enjoyed, and I enjoyed growing them all summer. The good news is that Tangly Cottage Gardening offered replacement when I return this winter. Also, I found these four surviving plugs! I canned them here for their protection.

2. Iris unguicularis, Algerian iris was another of several prized gifts from Tangly Cottage Gardening. I split and plugged them into a row that is about twenty feet long last winter.

3. Musa acuminata, banana ‘trees’ are getting to be rather excessive. With these pairs of four new cultivars, there are now fourteen cultivars! There are no plans for any of them.

4. Brugmansia candida, double white angel’s trumpet failed to impress this year. Bloom was limited. Now that summer is over, it decided to bloom! I suppose this is good news.

5. Brugmansia X cubensis, ‘Charles Grimaldi’ continues to bloom late, and with this odd peachy color. Although I know that it should be simple yellow, I rather prefer this color.

6. Brugmansia, angel’s trumpet of an unidentified cultivar with single white flowers also decided to bloom late. This is impressive because it grew from a cutting from last spring!

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/

Out of Tune Trumpet

Brugmansia X cubensis ‘Charles Grimaldi’

Summer was mild. Vegetation that enjoys warmth grew relatively slowly through much of it. Then, toward late summer, and without increased warmth, some vegetation seemed to accelerate growth unexpectedly. Banana and heliconia pups grew like they should have earlier in summer. Angel’s trumpet cuttings began to get somewhat weedy. Some that did not bloom earlier began to bloom now!

Brugmansia X cubensis ‘Charles Grimaldi’ is likely the most popular angel’s trumpet. It is the most vigorous, and may be the most fragrant. One cutting that survived the unusually cool frost last winter grew from its roots to more than six feet tall since then. Now that it is time for it to decelerate growth, it is blooming! Such performance is impressive, but not in tune with the seasons. It can not continue for long, before disruption by increasingly cool autumn weather. Unusually vigorous growth that continues to bloom unusually late could be unusually vulnerable to frost next winter.

This is not the only angel’s trumpet that is out of tune with its seasons. A similarly mature specimen of an unidentified cultivar with single white flowers is about to bloom also. Two older specimens of other unidentified cultivars are growing about as vigorously, although without bloom. One blooms with double white flowers. The other blooms with single pale orange flowers.

About nine copies of each of both cultivars that bloom with white flowers are growing like weeds in #1 cans, with more than a dozen more small cuttings of the cultivar that blooms with double flowers in cells. Only the original matured specimen that blooms with double white flowers actually inhabits a landscape, and is incidentally about to bloom, but is not here with these in the nursery. More will go to landscapes after winter, where their bloom can be enjoyed.

Autumn Bloom Is Remarkably Natural

Some bloom adapts to regional climate.

Most flowers bloom during spring. That seems to be most practical. It maximizes the time for their seed to develop prior to the following winter. It conforms to the schedules of their naturally preferred pollinators. Bloom is less likely to succumb to weather through spring. Deviancy is natural though. Many functional flowers quite naturally prefer autumn bloom.

Deviancy, of course, is as complicated as it is natural. Autumn bloom occurs for a variety of reasons among a variety of species. Many can be delightful assets for home gardens. They provide more options for floral color than the most popular of cool season annuals. Some autumn bloom continues as autumn foliar color develops, and perhaps into winter.

Many flowers bloom randomly as warm weather allows them to do so. They may seem to bloom almost continually here. Cool weather may disrupt their bloom only during winter. As weather fluctuates, bloom might resume before a previously disrupted bloom finishes. African daisies provide autumn bloom because autumn is too mild to disrupt their bloom.

Technically, such flowers do not necessarily prefer to bloom during autumn. They merely bloom whenever they can. Most actually bloom most profusely during spring or summer. Canna produces summer and autumn bloom, as it regenerates from its winter dormancy. Otherwise, within frostless tropical climates, it blooms continuously. It is quite adaptable.

Some flowers that are actually more responsive to seasons simply prefer autumn bloom. Joe Pye weed and goldenrod grow only vegetatively through spring and earlier summer. They only begin to bloom about now. Perhaps their seed prefer to grow through cool and damp winter weather. Their seedlings may be vulnerable to desiccating summer warmth.

Naked lady is more extreme. It maintains dormancy through most of summer to bloom as summer ends. Then it grows through winter until spring warmth initiates dormancy again. It seems to believe that it still inhabits its native range within South Africa. Summer there is winter here. Actually, summer weather there is more severe than winter weather there.

Proud Land

Proud Land

‘La France’, in 1867, was the first hybrid tea rose to be hybridized. ‘Peace’, in 1945, was the first hybrid tea rose to be classified as a hybrid tea rose. Yes, it took quite a while.

Afterward, hybrid tea roses became very popular both for the cut flower industry and home gardens from the 1950s through the 1980s. Because of their single bold flowers that bloom on tall and sturdy stems from spring until autumn, they are still very popular as florist flowers. However, more florific floribunda roses became more popular for home gardens through the 1990s. Since the turn of the Century, all sorts of simpler shrubby roses, such as carpet roses, became more popular than all of the other types of roses. Hybrid tea roses and other types that produce comparably exemplary cut flowers require more specialized maintenance than most people want to commit to. Sadly, hybrid tea roses are now passe.

‘Proud Land’ was the first of the hybrid tea roses that I installed into my mother’s new rose garden in 1984. It came from Jackson & Perkins while Jackson & Perkins was still based out of Medford in Oregon. Unfortunately, it suckered so profusely during its first season that I wrote a letter to Jackson & Perkins about it. Jackson & Perkins generously replaced it for the following season. Also, my mother, who was unaware of the replacement, purchased another replacement. As if that were not enough, I managed to abscise all sucker and burl growth from the original while it was dormant for the following winter. So, three individual specimens of ‘Proud Land’ bloomed at the center of the small rose garden for 1985, which was the year that I graduated high school.

Technically, hybrid tea roses are at their best after about five years, but should probably be replaced before about ten years. ‘Proud Land’ continued to perform though, with no indication of deterioration, until I finally removed them in 2020. They live here now. I grew a few ungrafted copies from their pruning scraps. I should properly graft a few copies also. Realistically, there is no need to retire the originals.

Some consider hybrid tea roses to be passe. I consider them to be historical.

Deadheading Can Enhance Bloom

Without deadheading roses divert resources from continued bloom to fruiting and seeding.

It takes quite a bit of effort for flowers to bloom. It takes even more effort and resources for pollinated flowers to produce seed and the fruiting structures that contain the seed. If the seed of certain aggressive plants get dispersed, we need to put even more effort into pulling up the seedlings. It just never seems to end!

Removal of deteriorating flowers, commonly known (even by those of us who missed that generation) as ‘deadheading’, can eliminate so much of this extra work. Not many plants benefit from deadheading; but most that do are really grateful for it. Others that do not care one way or the other simply look better without their deteriorating flowers.

It is of course impossible to deadhead large flowering trees or vast areas of ground cover. Regularly shorn hedges should never need deadheading because they never get the opportunity to bloom or develop fruit. Plants that are appreciated for the ornamental quality of their fruit should of course not be deadheaded.

Most roses get deadheaded as they bloom because the development of their fruiting structures, known as ‘hips’, takes enough resources to compromise subsequent bloom. Removal of these hips therefore promotes bloom. Only the few types of roses that are grown for their showy hips should not get deadheaded. Phlox, daisies, zinias, dianthus and all sorts of plants with long continual bloom seasons likewise benefit from deadheading.

Some types of iris that produce seed perform better with deadheading, not because they will bloom again during the same season, but because they can divert resources to vegetative growth (like rhizomes and foliage) that will sustain bloom during the following year. Most bearded iris (that do not produce seed) and lily-of-the-Nile do not seem to care if they get deadheaded, but are generally more appealing without their finished flower trusses.

Four o’ clocks can not be deadheaded without also removing developing flowers, so can only be allowed to bloom and throw their invasive seed all over the garden. It is easier to pull their seedlings later. We have a bit more control over crocosmia. Even though they do not need to be deadheaded, they are less invasive and more appealing without their scraggly brown stalks and seed capsules.

White Perennial Pea

Bright pink, light pink, but no white here.

Perennial pea is a somewhat naturalized exotic species here. It may not be aggressively invasive enough to be classified as a weed though. However, I would classify some of it that I can not exterminate from at least one of our landscapes as weeds. Once it gets established, it is very persistent.

It seems to prefer to grow on roadsides or fences. It is not so common in flat open spaces. It rarely gets big enough to overwhelm or otherwise damage other vegetation. It dies back when the weather gets too inhospitable for it. It regenerates when the weather is more comfortable.

Perennial pea certainly is pretty. Almost all of it blooms with typical bright purplish pink flowers. A few uncommon specimens bloom with variations of lighter pink. White is even more rare. Only red is more rare than white. I have never seen it growing wild. Although seed for red perennial pea is available, I know of no one who has actually grown it.

Therefore, until someone can prove that red actually exists amongst naturalized perennial pea, white is the rarest color. It might also be my favorite. I can not decide. White is my favorite color. Also, perennial pea happens to look great in white. Yet, the familiar obnoxiously bright pink is so typical of the species. It is the color that everyone expects to see growing wild on local roadsides.

I was fortunate to find a specimen at work that blooms white. I grew a few copies of it, but kept them canned. I shared some with colleagues in other regions until only two remained here. I was not too alarmed when these last two were overwhelmed by other vegetation and died, since I thought I could grow more copies from the original specimen. That was until I found that the original was destroyed by excavation to mitigate erosion from last winter!

I believe that another specimen that blooms white lives nearby. Its particular colony has already finished bloom for the season. I must therefore wait for it to resume bloom, or look for errant bloom through winter. After getting so involved with it, perhaps it really will be my favorite.

Muskogee?

This is not a color I had expected.

What cultivar of crape myrtle is this?! I realize that this picture is blurred, which is why it was not included within my ‘Six on Saturday’ post this morning, but it is the floral color that is important. Is it purplish pink, or just bright pink? What cultivar does it look like?

I expected this crape myrtle to be one of the old reliable cultivars because it was a gift from the Arbor Day Foundation. The primary old reliable cultivar that blooms with similar floral color is ‘Muskogee’. Yet, even with my limited ability to discern color quality, this floral color seems to be a bit too rich. I sort of expect a milder and scarcely purplish pink from ‘Muskogee’. I suppose that the Arbor Day Foundation can also grow modern cultivars like the rest of us.

Regardless of its identity, it is certainly pretty. The foliar color during autumn is comparable to that of old reliable cultivars. Because neighbors like it, I grew a few copies for them. We would like to incorporate more crape myrtles into the landscapes at work. The abundance of spring color from other species there mostly finishes prior to the summer bloom of crape myrtle. Summer is the busiest season, so justifies flashy color.

Embarrassingly though, I am still none too keen on crape myrtle. If I did not typically spell ‘crape’ as ‘crepe’, I would prefer to spell it without the ‘e’ at the end. I was impressed with it when I first started to notice it through the 1980s, but then realized that it was becoming too common through the 1990s. That was long after Brent told me that it had become too common throughout the Los Angeles region significantly earlier. Decades later, it is still too much of a good thing.

Hydrangeas Perform Better With Proper Pruning

Pruning of one season affects bloom of another.

After decades of breeding, most modern cultivars of hydrangea are much more compact and a bit stockier than old fashioned hydrangeas that had long, limber stems that could bend downward from the weight of their own blooms. They stand up to proudly display their modern, vibrant color, even when their billowy blooms get heavy with rain. Yet, even with all their genetic improvements, they should still be pruned properly and annually to promote continued bloom. Without pruning, even modern cultivars can get floppy and lanky.

Because most hydrangeas bloom on stems that developed during the previous year, they should not be pruned too much while dormant through winter. Instead, solitary (generally unbranched) stems that grew from the base last year and bloomed this year should be pruned back to a pair of buds about a foot high as their blooms deteriorate. Even though some blooms continue to develop late into autumn, most are finishing about now. Therefore, pruning stems back while also removing spent blooms gets the pruning done early enough for the side buds to start to grow into secondary stems.

These secondary stems should not get pruned again, even when they go dormant through winter. They do not grow much before winter, but should be mature enough to bloom during the following spring. Thinning these branched stems through winter by cutting some of the smaller stems to the ground should produce fewer but significantly larger blooms, as well as prolong the blooming season. (However, many modern cultivars naturally bloom sporadically after their primary bloom phase until autumn anyway.)

New canes that develop from the ground to replace older branched stems may not bloom their first year, but can be left unpruned through winter to bloom early the next spring, which starts the process over again. Old stems should be cut to the ground after their third year (second bloom season). Leaving a few spent blooms on the plants long enough to dry (as dried flowers) should not interfere too much with proper pruning.