When I see common thrift, Armeria maritima, in nurseries now, I wonder what such a diminutive perennial would be useful for. Their densely compact mounds of narrow evergreen leaves rarely get more than four inches deep, and take their time spreading to less than a foot wide. Then I remember how thrift visually softened the straight edges of my father’s brick patio and retaining walls, and fit so nicely into the tight spots. If allowed to do so, thrift creeps slowly over edges of pavement and stepping stones, but is not too eager to overwhelm them.
If it eventually gets overgrown, thrift is easily cut back to the edge of pavement at the end of winter, and will green over its raw edge by spring. The bits and pieces that are left over from cutting back the edges can be plugged back into other areas and will eventually develop roots if initially watered regularly. Once established, thrift stays healthier if allowed to dry somewhat between watering. Bald spots that may naturally come and go as mature plants die out in the center and then regenerate fill in faster if outer edges get cut back.
The dense round clusters of tiny flowers stand above the foliage on bare stems about four to eight inches high. The flowers are almost always bright pink, but are sometimes white or reddish pink. Bloom is most profuse in spring and may continue sporadically all year.
Like the big bark of a little terrier, the big and boldly colored flowers of large-flowered hybrid clematis seem to be more than their delicate vines should be able to produce. Almost all of the many modern varieties bloom with flowers that are at least three inches wide; and some have slightly ruffled double flowers. Their rich, deep, and sometimes two toned shades of red, blue, purple or pink, as well as white seem too opulent for their simple wiry stems that may climb to only six feet or so. The dark green compound leaves grab harmlessly onto light trellises, stakes or lattice. Although the foliage and flowers want sunny exposure, clematis roots do not like warm soil, so appreciate generous mulching. Some people like to give them a wide rock to disperse their roots under, or plant them next to large pots that sit directly on the soil. I planted mine on the north side of the northwestern corner of the house where the soil was always shaded, and allowed it to climb around the corner onto an iron banister on the west side.
Clematis want to be watered and fertilized regularly, and well drained organically rich soil. They should be pruned rather aggressively in winter while they seem to be dead, but are really just dormant.
New Guinea impatiens (with ivy geranium) from last year.
Annuals complete their entire lifespans within a single year.
Perennials survive for more than a single year.
Biennials grow vegetatively during their first year, and then bloom, disperse seed and die during their second year, but that is another story.
Most species that are appreciated as annuals here actually have potential to be perennials, even if only short term perennials. They are only replaced annually because it is easier than maintaining them through their dormant season.
For example, busy Lizzy is a warm season annual that gets installed for spring and replaced with cool season annuals for autumn. However, if cut back and sheltered from frost, it can survive through winter to perform for the following spring and summer. Actually, it can survive perennially like this for quite a few years, and as it ultimately deteriorates, it can replace itself with its own cuttings or layered stems.
Brent did this with New Guinea impatiens from last year. He neglected to replace them for winter (which is quite brief there), and then noticed that they resumed growth as winter ended. Now, they are huge and even more spectacularly florific than they were last summer.
The picture above shows where I camp out in his backyard when I go to Southern California. Most of the white bloom to the right is actually ivy geranium that cascades below the New Guinea impatiens, but most of the white bloom to the left is New Guinea impatiens above ivy geranium. (White on white was not quite as monotonous when each of the two species maintained its distinct form last year.)
Small terrace at the western margin of the garden.
This other pair of potted dwarf Alberta spruce surrounded with the same New Guinea impatiens above, with a close up below, flanks the steps to a small terrace at far western margin of the garden.
These New Guinea impatiens are huge because they resumed growth from last year.
Simply, these are six varieties of flowers. All but one bloomed last week. Half are hybrid cultivars of the same genus with two in the same picture. Six pictures of flowers with two varieties in one picture should include seven varieties of flowers. But of course, “mostly” indicates something that is not exclusive. Anyway, I should have gotten more pictures at work, since it was a rather fun week. Irrigation is getting more demanding, though, now that the weather is getting warmer. Because we need to delay renovation of a prominent landscape, we installed potted Canna onto the site. They are potted to facilitate removal when renovation resumes, but will be rad!
1. Lantana camara, which is known here simply as ‘lantana’, is too colorful to not share. Actually though, it is from three weeks ago, and west of Phoenix. Ours is more yellowish.
2. Rosa ‘Iceberg’ and ‘Burgundy Iceberg’ are grafted together on two old rose trees in the rose garden. I find multiple grafts to be annoying, but guests find them to be intriguing.
3. Rosa of an unidentified cultivar blooms better with better exposure, and also without the other cultivar that it was originally grafted with, but that was crowded out years ago.
4. Alstroemeria peruviana, Peruvian lily will not die. We removed large colonies at least twice from this location, but some always survive. They are yellow, orange, pink and red.
5. Lilium, which seems to be some sort of fancy Asiatic lily, was a gift from a neighbor. I did not expect them to perform so well, but after only four years, they should be divided.
6. Rhody is the only one of these six who is not a flower, although another type of flower is named after him. Morgan, his F250 who identifies as a Mercury, wants to get washed.
These grew from formerly small and shriveled clumps of tuberous roots.
It is hard to imagine how the small shriveled clumps of tuberous roots of ranunculus, Ranunculus asiaticus, planted last autumn can produce such bright pink, red, orange, yellow and white flowers between late winter and early spring. The two or three inch wide, semidouble or double flowers stand about a foot high, just above their soft deeply lobed foliage. Those of us who did not get ranunculus in the ground last autumn can find blooming plants now. Ranunculus want to be in full sun, in rich, well draining soil.
Deadheading (removal of fading flowers) promotes subsequent bloom; but the season is rather short. Foliage will soon be turning yellow, and will eventually die back. If not watered too much, dormant ranunculus can survive through summer, but should be dug and stored in a cool dry place until next autumn if they are in pots or areas that will get watered regularly.
Extensive breeding can compromise floral fragrance.
As I enjoy good friends and cheap coffee out on the deck, I am also savoring the sweet fragrance of the abundant white bloom of the black locust off in the distance. I know that black locust is a noxious weed that invades riparian environments; but they smell so good on such pleasantly warm spring days. Modern varieties are certainly better behaved and more colorful with their pink to purplish flowers, but their fragrance does not compare so well.
Earlier here on the deck, one of my friends and I discussed how modern Buicks are much safer than old classic Buicks are, but are not quite as elegant and stylish. It made me think of how decades ago, modern roses were developed for flower size, form, color and stem length, but in the process, were deprived of, among other qualities, their fragrance. Perhaps I would have been more attentive to my friend if the coffee were as potent as the fragrance of the black locust.
Modern varieties of many classic flowers are less fragrant than their ancestors were. This is because decades (and centuries) ago, fragrance generally had not been prioritized in breeding as much as were other physical characteristics, such as flower size, form, color and so on. The plants that were consequently used for breeding typically had the most visually appealing flowers, but lacked fragrance. Such disparity is actually quite natural among plants with variable flowers.
For example, most bearded iris that naturally have the biggest, fanciest and most brightly colored flowers are also the least fragrant. Their progeny that have become the modern varieties are just as flashy, and also, just as deficient of fragrance. Conversely, the relatively small and simple pale purple flowers of my favorite ‘Grandma Sheppard’ bearded iris are remarkably fragrant.
To the iris, this is all quite sensible. Their fragrance is not designed to impress us, but is merely intended to attract pollinators. If they are fragrant enough to entice the insects that bring them pollen, they do not need to waste any more effort on visual appeal. Without fragrance though, they can alternatively use color (including infrared and ultraviolet) to direct insect traffic where they need it to go in order to accomplish pollination. Almost all of the many varieties of iris prefer to specialize in one or the other; either fragrance or visual characteristics, but not both.
So many of the old classics seem to have lost some or most of their fragrance as they have ‘improved’ over the years because visual appeal has been prioritized more than fragrance. Besides flowering locusts, roses and iris, some types of honeysuckle, mock orange, sweet pea, violet, hyacinth, lily and even narcissus are less fragrant than their ancestors were. However, traditional as well as modern fragrant roses and iris seem to be gaining popularity. Fortunately, gardenia, lilac, wisteria, stock and the fragrant types of angel’s trumpet and jasmine are probably as potent as they have ever been because they have not been tampered with as much.
For the past few years, I have really been overly indulgent with the seed catalogues from Renee’s Garden. I wanted to try more varieties of classic annual cosmos, Cosmos bipinnatus, than I could fit in my garden. I recently grew ‘White Seashells’ with tubular ray flowers, and colorful ‘Double Click’ with ruffled semi-double and double flowers, and even the ‘Dancing Petticoats’ mix, which includes several varieties! By now, I have probably grown all but a few of the many offerings.
After trying so many though, I still can not tell you which are my favorites. It would not matter much anyway, since I did not deadhead them to deprive them of their abundant seeds. Their self sown progeny are now mixed and beginning to bloom in random shades of pink ranging from pale pink to nearly red to nearly purple, with a few white.
Naturalized cosmos eventually reverts to bloom with more genetically basic single flowers in simpler shades of pink and white, on stems about three or four feet tall. They can even get taller than six feet and wider than two feet. Most of the popular garden varieties that I started out with though stay less than three feet tall. ‘Sonata’ is a popular strain that stays even shorter, so is among the most practical and proportionate for refined gardens.
Seed can be sown or new plants can be planted now to bloom through summer. Naturalized plants are already blooming only because they get an earlier start. Regardless of color or form, all cosmos flowers are about three inches wide, with yellow centers. Their finely textured pale green foliage is quite delicate and airy.
Azaleas, which are species of Rhododendron, have been in cultivation for centuries. At least ten thousand cultivars are documentable. Most are interspecific hybrids. Only a few are selections or breeds of simple species. Most of their ancestral species are native to Asia, Europe or North America. Almost all cultivars that are available here are evergreen.
Azaleas can bloom profusely enough during April or May to almost obscure their foliage. Bloom may last for more than two weeks. Floral color ranges between white and red with many tints of pink, salmon and magenta. The most profuse flowers are as narrow as half an inch. Larger flowers may be three inches wide. Rare deciduous azaleas are fragrant.
Azaleas do not grow fast, but can eventually sprawl more than five feet wide. Some can grow nearly twice as wide. Although most do not grow much taller than three feet, some can grow twice as tall. Azaleas are naturally understory species, so can tolerate a bit of partial shade. They should not crave fertilizer. If they do, they prefer acidifying fertilizer.
Bloom is bountiful for spring. It is more abundant now than it will be at any other time of year. Early bloom has more time to produce more seed prior to autumn and winter. Also, it can most efficiently exploit its pollinators who are also most active in spring. The most prominent blooms appeal to such pollinators with floral color. Their effort is remarkable.
Most bloom within most natural ecosystems here relies on wind for pollination. Although very efficient, it lacks prominence. Some grasses seem to produce seed without evident bloom. Because such vegetation does not rely on pollinators, it has no need to advertise. Toyon produces tiny but prominently profuse flowers for both wind and insect pollination.
Most species within home gardens rely on pollinators rather than wind for pollination. At least their ancestors did. They originally developed both floral color and floral fragrance to attract pollinators. Extensive breeding enhanced color and fragrance, but also caused sterility for some. Others are not true to type. Their visual appeal became less practical.
Obviously, such visual appeal and associated practicality are subjective. Although less practical for procreation, enhanced bloom is more practical for home gardens. Most who enjoy flowers appreciate enhanced floral color and enhanced floral fragrance. They are unconcerned with how species that provide such bloom procreate. Looks are everything.
Besides, some pollinators can still enjoy most enhanced floral color. A few flowers are so genetically modified that they confuse some pollinators. A few insects die of exhaustion while trying to gain entry. Generally though, most get what they came for or safely leave without it. Many who enjoy gardening also enjoy pollinating insects and hummingbirds.
Ultimately, floral color is personal. Many garden enthusiasts prefer specific color ranges or specific colors. Many prefer an abundance of color. Some prefer more subdued floral color. Some prefer specific types of flowers to provide floral color. Bloom season may be another concern. Some want more winter bloom while nearby gardens lack floral color. Many prefer major spring bloom. Some like random bloom through the year.
Contractions are awkward for me. I certainly could use them if I want to, I just prefer not to. It is a pointless habit that I should be more comfortable with breaking sometimes.
Another habit that I should indulge in less is the use of six different cultivars of the same species for my ‘Six on Saturday’ posts. I have done it for camellias, rhododendrons, roses, flowering cherries, bearded iris, African daisies and a few other species, including various annuals. I refrained from featuring six azaleas simultaneously for yesterday morning, although I did feature three bearded iris, which comprised half of the ‘Six on Saturday’. I should remember to limit azaleas to three pictures, or preferably two or one, if I feature them on ‘Six on Saturday’ later, as they continue to bloom.
These two pictures of azaleas were omitted from my ‘Six on Saturday’ post yesterday because, as the theme implies, such posts are limited to six pictures. Perhaps I should have used one or both of these pictures instead of one or two pictures of bearded iris. It is too late now.
The first azalea above is variegated. Its leaves resemble those of variegated andromeda. I do not remember what cultivar it is, although the label remains attached to at least one specimen. At least three specimens inhabit the same landscape together. They are blooming better this spring than they have in the past, perhaps because, annually, they are bigger and more established than they were for their previous season.
Relative to the many azaleas here, the second azalea below is nothing special. I like this particular picture because it happens to show a bee visiting the bloom. My pictures tend to be more technical than artistic. Perhaps I should try to include a bit of wildlife sometimes.
Tony Tomeo 