Force To Be Reckoned With

Flowering quince is conducive to forcing.

Winter flowering cherry, flowering quince, witch hazel and forsythia are finishing bloom. Later types of flowering cherry and flowering quince bloom immediately afterward. Lilac, redbud and weigela bloom only slightly later. Flowering crabapple extends the season of such flashy early bloom. It is relatively easy to force any of these for even earlier bloom.

Forcing is more popular where cool weather inhibits bloom through winter. It accelerates bloom simply by exposing it to home interior warmth. Bulbs that remain dormant in cold gardens bloom sooner in warm homes. Winter is the most popular time for forcing bulbs. It is now time to force formerly dormant deciduous stems to bloom a bit earlier for spring.

It is less wasteful to force deciduous stems to bloom than to force bulbs to bloom. Bulbs rarely survive because they exhaust their resources without replenishment. Those that do survive and have potential to bloom again may take a year to recover. Bulbs are not cheap. Deciduous stems are free, and are as disposable as other popular cut flowers.

The most popular stems to force are the fruitless counterparts of fruit trees. This includes flowering cherry, flowering crabapple and flowering quince. Flowering quince is actually not closely related to fruiting quince though. It also includes flowering apricot, flowering plum, flowering peach and flowering pear. Flowering pear is likely to smell badly though.

Stems from deciduous trees that actually produce fruit are just as easy to force. They are only less popular because they are not bred to be as pretty. Also, removal of their stems compromises fruit production. Those who plan to force such stems can leave a few extra during dormant pruning. Collection of stems should not damage or disfigure the source.

Stems are ready to force when their floral buds are just about to pop. Ideally, some buds should be slightly exposing their floral color within. A few flowers could be blooming. At that stage, bloom accelerates significantly in response to home interior warmth. Aridity can desiccate larger blooms. Otherwise, wisteria, dogwood, deciduous magnolias and perhaps azaleas are conducive to forcing.

Six on Saturday: Shabby Spring II

Some of these Six are leftovers from last week. Some might have been late last week, and are a week later now. African daisy and calla bloom somewhat randomly, so technically, may not qualify as late. Likewise, candelabra aloe does not bloom quite as randomly, but is not always punctual either. I should be more observant of bloom schedules. Evergreen clematis and bridal wreath spirea are more likely to be blooming late. I am more certain that flowering quince should have bloomed earlier. Only calla and candelabra aloe were grown here. The others were originally acquired from nurseries many years ago, so I can not gloat about growing them. Incidentally, Rhody and I will leave for Washington early Wednesday morning, so my next two ‘Six on Saturday’ posts should be from there.

1. Clematis armandii, evergreen clematis bloomed while I was not looking. This picture is from last week. Bloom lasted a bit longer than expected, but is presently deteriorating.

2. Osteospermum ecklonis, African daisy also bloomed last week, but of course, is rarely without bloom. It blooms a bit more profusely in phases between now and late summer.

3. Aloe arborescens, candelabra aloe typically blooms for late winter. These vivid orange flowers are resilient to wintry weather, and contrast splendidly with blue California lilac.

4. Zantedeschia aethiopica, calla grows wild within a portion of one of the landscapes. It could do the same elsewhere if we were to relocate some of it, which is why we rarely do.

5. Spiraea prunifolia, bridal wreath spirea seems to be blooming late. I do not know for certain because I do not remember when it typically blooms. Foliage develops afterward.

6. Chaenomeles speciosa ‘Double Take Orange’ flowering quince also develops its foliage after bloom. I am more certain that it is blooming late. It typically blooms with forsythia.

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/

Tulip

The soft pastel shades of these tulips brighten this somewhat shady landscape.

The mild winters that are so comfortable for us are not so desirable to tulip bulbs, which need to be chilled to perform as perennials. Consequently, they behave as brief season annuals locally. The most popular varieties have simple single flowers in white, yellow, pink, red, purple or pinkish orange. Double tulips are rather ruffled. Parrot tulips are larger and even more ruffled. As the names imply, lily-flowered tulips are shaped like small lilies, with pointy flared petals; and fringed tulips have finely serrate petals. Tulips stand between half a foot to two feet tall. Early types are already finished blooming. Late types, particularly if planted late, may bloom as late as early May.

Six on Saturday: Shabby Spring

This should have been done earlier. While most who participate in Six on Saturday have been posting pictures of early spring bloom, I have been posting less colorful pictures of dormant corms, their barely visible new spring growth, some windmill palm foliage and a sliced weirdly yellow beet. Some of the few flowers that I posted pictures of were oddly pallid, which was sort of why I thought they might be interesting. Now that I am posting floral pictures, early spring flowers are beginning to deteriorate. The first two are rather shabby. The third has not been quite right for a few months. I should have found fresher flowers.

1. Eucalyptus cinerea or pulverulenta, florist silver dollar got an identity crisis. I learned it as cinerea. I am now told that it is pulverulenta. Regardless of its name, bees enjoy it. We thought we added another tree of the same species nearby, but it is the other species.

2. Tecomaria capensis, cape honeysuckle really was prettier earlier. Its bloom is not too profuse, but it is distinctly orange. Goodness, I really should have taken a better picture.

3. Rosmarinus officinalis, rosemary is badly infested with mites, but blooms regardless. It is right across the road from the silver dollar, and just as popular with the honeybees.

4. Lavandula stoechas, Spanish lavender is the only lavender that self sows here. It does not become invasive though. Its bloom may be blue, pink, white or, obviously, lavender.

5. Tulbaghia violacea, society garlic is one of my least favorite of perennials. It stinks! It is not so much to look at either. It has been here for many years though, and will not die.

6. Grevillea rosmarinifolia, rosemary grevillea seems as popular with hummingbirds as rosemary and silver dollar is with bees. Hummingbirds are prettier than this odd bloom.

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/

Horridculture – White

White bloom brightens a shady landscape.

White is my favorite color. Do not argue with me about it. I do not need to hear that it is not truly a color or that it is the absence of color. Technically, it is either or both the complete absence of color or the complete saturation of all color. In that regard, it has either or both the same or opposite definition as black.

A prism demonstrates the colorfulness of white light by separating it into all other colors that it contains. Nothing is lacking.

Other colors can be mixed with a bit of white to become a tint, but retain their identity. They can be mixed with a bit of black to become a shade, but retain their identity. They can be mixed with other colors for various hues. Only white and black lose their identities with the addition of another color. No matter how pale, white becomes a tint of the additional color. No matter how dark, black becomes a shade of the additional color.

Pink is not really a color, but it is somehow more acceptable as such than white is. It is merely a tint of red. In other words, it is red with white.

Furthermore, brown is not really a color, but is somehow more acceptable as such than white is. It is merely a shade of orange. In other words, it is orange with black.

Gray is either or both a tint of black or a shade of white, but only if either or both black or white is considered to be the color that it is. Goodness, this is getting complicated.

Ultimately, such analysis is irrelevant to my predilection for white. Brent says that I am a white supremacist. That is rude. I just know that my favorite color is white.

Six on Saturday: Strange Times

Some flowers are blooming strangely this year. Well actually, one bloomed strangely last year, and is now blooming normally. Flowers that prefer more winter chill than they can experience here are blooming quite nicely this year, even after less frost than last winter. I can neither make sense of it all, nor complain about it. I mean, it may be strange, but it is strange in a good way. We added a windmill palm that I mentioned two weeks ago to a landscape. I like palms, especially this palm, but I am not sure that I like them here with the redwoods. Palms are strange with redwoods.

1. Trachycarpus fortunei, windmill palm is strange because it is one of only three palms here. Palms and redwoods should not mix. It remains canned, so will be removed as the unseen angel’s trumpet behind it grows. I featured it two weeks ago, before it came here.

2. Hyacinthus orientalis, hyacinth is not so strange either, but it performs strangely well and reliably with only minor chill. Several have been blooming like this for several years.

3. Bergenia crassifolia, pig squeak is blooming strangely late with a strangely light pink floral color. Otherwise, it blooms a bit better now that a sycamore that shaded it is gone.

4. Ribes sanguineum, red currant is blooming with a strangely light pink floral color too. It is not much more than white, but is not white. All are this same strangely pallid color.

5. Brugmansia X cubensis ‘Charles Grimaldi’ angel’s trumpet did just the opposite. After blooming strangely pallid peachy orange since spring, it now blooms yellow as it should.

6. Helleborus orientalis, Lenten rose is blooming strangely well this year. Typically, only a few bloom like this. Now, many are. This is one of a uniform colony that is likely feral.

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/

Six on Saturday: Hello Yellow

White is my favorite color. I sometimes post six pictures of exclusively white flowers for Six on Saturday. Also, I posted six pictures of exclusively red flowers merely to show that I could. I might have tried other colors as well. I do not remember trying yellow though. California bay gave me the idea, although its bloom is rather unimpressive. Silver wattle is much more colorful. So is daffodil. Dandelion is merely a weed; but technically, silver wattle is also. Ultimately, I got four pictures of yellow flowers, a picture of an aberrative beet, and a picture of someone who might qualify as golden retriever light gold, which at least sounds yellow. He can not see most colors anyway.

1. Acacia dealbata, silver wattle is an aggressively naturalized exotic species. It certainly is pretty though. It typically blooms earlier, and maybe by New Year’s Day farther south.

2. Umbellularia californica, California bay does not bloom as prettily. Its flowers are too tiny, too sporadic and too high in its canopy to be prominent, but it blooms nonetheless.

3. Taraxacum officinale, dandelion, like silver wattle, is also an aggressively naturalized exotic species. It infests most lawns, and blooms to toss its seed whenever it wants to.

4. Narcissus pseudonarcissus, daffodil continues to bloom. Several are still budded. If it were not so variable with its bloom schedule from year to year, I would say that it is late.

5. Beta vulgaris, beet should be red, not yellow. ‘Detroit Dark Red’ is best! This seems to taste about the same, but looks like a sick carrot! I loathe carrots! Why do this to a beet?

6. Rhody remains unimpressed. He is no more interested in beets than carrots. He could be more concerned about the first of a few storms that should arrive in only a few hours.

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/

1986

Since 1986 (or so)

This is no ordinary daffodil. I realize that it looks just like the daffodils that I posted a picture of two Saturdays ago, and it could actually be the same variety, but it is quite distinct. I acquired this particular daffodil in about summer of 1986. It could have been a year or two earlier or later, and might not have been summer. The foliage was not completely shriveled as it should have been during summer, but it lasts longer in the coastal climate that I took it from. I really do not remember when I acquired it, but I know that it was a long time ago, about the summer of 1986.

Although we have not been acquainted for as long as I have been acquainted with my paternal paternal great grandfather’s rhubarb and my maternal maternal great grandmother’s Dalmatian iris, both of which I acquired prior to kindergarten, we have significant mutual history.

I ‘borrowed’ several large clumps of bulbs from an abandoned flower field to the east of my Pa’s home in Montara. The clumps were very overgrown and very crowded, but still in their original rows, as they had been arranged for cut flower production many years prior. Shortly afterward, all of the other bulbs were somehow and seemingly pointlessly removed from the field by an excavator. A monster home was built on the highest part of the field, with a view of the field, which remained completely uncultivated afterward. No one knows how or why all the daffodil bulbs were removed so completely, but none were ever seen again. The naturalized field of daffodils seemed like it would have been an attribute to the home.

Over many years, the bulbs grew at most of the homes that I lived in, until the last few years, after I left the last of them at a former home in town. Then, after bringing a few roses here from my old rose garden at a previous home, I noticed that a few bulbs came with them. I thought that they were fancier daffodils, but now that this one bloomed, it is obvious that they are the familiar daffodils from Montara.

‘Yuletide’

Camellia sasanqua ‘Yuletide’

‘Yuletide’ Camellia sasanqua should bloom for Christmas, as the name implies. It typically does. However, it sometimes blooms early or late. It might be slightly late this year, but has been blooming for quite a while, and was beginning to bloom by Christmas.

It certainly is a delightful red. It seems to me that it can be slightly more reddish, with less of a pink influence, in some situations. Perhaps the bright yellow of the staminate centers cause it to appear as such within certain weather conditions or sunlight exposures. This particular flower may seem to be slightly pinkish as a result of distress. The hedge that it bloomed on had been infested with red spider mite earlier.

This particular cultivar of Camellia sasanqua develops distinctly upright and perhaps ovoid form, and can get quite tall. Most other cultivars develop more irregular or sprawling form, with long and limber stems, and relatively short stature.

I am impressed that this bloom is so resilient to wintry weather. Although much of the foliage is under a wide eave, most of the bloom is not under the eave, so has been exposed to both rain and frost. Apparently, Camellia sasanqua bloom is resilient to frost that is colder than it gets here. Camellia flower blight is common regionally, but mysteriously does not damage many flowers within the landscapes here. White and light pink Camellia japonica flowers are more vulnerable, but even they bloom quite nicely here, with only a few flowers succumbing before they finish bloom, and generally as their cumulative bloom cycle is finishing anyway.

Deer eat any cultivar of any species of Camellia, but avoid camellias here more mysteriously than camellia flower blight. I do not remember ever encountering damage that was caused by deer; and there are many camellias here.

Winter Bloom Might Be Limited (deferred from yesterday)

Some camellia varieties bloom for winter.

Except for flowers that bloom randomly throughout the year, most autumn bloom is done. Much of the formerly spectacular autumn foliar color succumbed to wintry rain and wind. Many colorful winter berries have already gone with migratory birds who consume them. Overwintering birds appreciate what lingers. Fortunately, some winter bloom continues.

Cool season annuals likely provide most winter flowers prior to spring. Ornamental kale generates a foliar display like a pastel version of summer coleus. Snowdrop bulbs bloom only white, but look sharp if other bloom is scarce. A few species contribute winter bloom merely because they lack regard for seasons. African daisy blooms whenever it wants to.

However, winter bloom is not comparable to spring bloom. That is an unfortunate reality. Most species that bloom randomly throughout the year bloom best for spring or summer. Most species that bloom specifically during winter are relatively subdued about doing so. Although pollinators are less active, competition for their pollination services is minimal.

Witch hazel is becoming more popular locally for its fragrant winter bloom on bare stems. Modern cultivars bloom with earthy tones of yellow, orange, red, and burgundy red. They prefer cool wintry weather though. Bloom may be inhibited somewhat within mild coastal climates. Winter jasmine bloom, although limited to only brilliant yellow, is more reliable.

Some species of Mahonia likewise bloom reliably but exclusively bright yellow. They are evergreen instead of deciduous. So is andromeda. Its pendulous ivory white or pale pink blooms are more striking in form than color. Daphne, which likely finished bloom already, is more striking in fragrance than color. Its light pink bloom is mostly obscured by foliage.

Camellias are among the most reliably colorful of winter bloom. Their floral color ranges through all hues between white and red. Floral form and abundance are notably diverse. Some bloom rather sparsely. Various cultivars bloom at various times throughout winter. Sasanqua camellias generally bloom earlier, with relatively smaller but profuse flowers. Camellias unfortunately lack fragrance.