Garden Successes

Aren't garden successes wonderful? You feel so good when one happens. And today I have two of them to report!

The first involves a peony plant which has gotten large and bushy over the years, but has never bloomed. It is one of the fern-leaved ones and it was a gift so I don't know it's name or ancestry, but I have been waiting impatiently for it to bloom and it hasn't. Last fall I remembered having read something about peonies not liking more than an inch or two of soil over the resting buds and I carefully brushed away some of the soil around it's stems.

And today I saw that it has many fat red buds! Ah, success!

The other success I discovered today is even more exciting. I've been trying for a long time to get a patch of Fringed Polygala, Polygala paucifolia, established in my woodland garden. I've had seeds which did not germinate.... I've had seeds which germinated and did not become seedlings..... I've had seedlings that did not become plants..... in other words, I was failing with them all along the line. And yet they grow in masses only a mile or two away. Last summer I got some cuttings from a neighbour. I put them in sand and kept them moist and cool (as much as I could in that awful drought summer) and by fall there did seem to be roots on one of them. I planted it in my mini-bog near the marsh, figuring it wouldn't grow anyway and what would I do with it all winter.

Imagine my delight this morning to see a nice tidy plant, with two flower buds! Here it is, on the left. The picture on the right, just to show you what the flower looks like when it is open, was taken near the White Lake Fen, another place where it grows in its numbers.

P. paucifolia is a curious plant, really. It grows in the moss in boggy areas, and in bone-dry conditions under tall white pines. I've seen it in full sun, and in heavy shade.  It spreads underground to make large patches, and is considered a shrub by some authorities. It occasionally has above-ground seeds, which look like a flake of cayenne pepper, but more often has one or two seeds that develop underground right on the stem or rhizome. These underground, or cleistogamous, flowers, never open, but usually self-fertilize and produce seeds. They are pretty hard to find, though, involving crawling along the ground on one's stomach scraping soil (or bog muck) away from the stems.  The whole plant is only about 6" high, and the flowers are most curious. They look a bit like orchids, although some people see a resemblance to small birds or even angels. Whatever, their curious shape and bright colour make them one of my favourite wildflowers.

Is one small plant too soon to claim success? No, I'm feeling optimistic today!

Trail Work

It's amazing how much you can accomplish with a hand saw when you're afraid of chainsaws. I'll admit it, I once again finked out on buying a chainsaw. After Christmas I decided for sure, absolutely, no excuses, I would get myself a small chainsaw, maybe in March. I would learn to run it, sharpen the chain, service the little engine, the whole shcmeer. Come April I finally took a look at them in my local  Hardware Emporium, and not only did the pricesw cause shock and awe, the safety instructions added Fear. So I turned tail and left the store....

Today being breezy and cool, only about 10C, and dry, I figured it was a good day to get started on clearing my main trail.There were lots of blow-downs, proving again the law that if a tree falls in the forest and there is no one to hear it, it will fall across or onto your trail.

The small birch across the trail was no problem. A few minutes with the bow saw and no more climbing over that one. The spruce across the trail was too high up to cut, but chopping off the branches that hung down meant that anyone my height or shorter can now walk right under it. If you're taller than me, just duck. Then I hit the area where a number of long-dead spruces and balsam firs had gone down like dominoes, that is, in all different directions and on top of each other. I thought it would be an awful job, but to my surprise they were crisp and the branches snapped easily when whacked with the axe. Then I sawed through the trunks and piled the debris in long rows beside where I want my trail. This is an interesting little spot, damp, with a rock wall to the north, where a number of species of Grape Ferns grow. Below it there  is a fine stand of Ostrich Fern, Lady Fern, two Silvery Glade Ferns that I planted, and a few Bulblet Ferns ditto. So I wanted to be able to walk through. Other than the fact that the long spruce branches kept whipping me in the face or getting caught in my hair, it really wasn't too bad a job.

The large cedar blow-down was next and had me stumped for a bit. A large clump, seven trunks, crashed last fall. Five of the trunks went one way, two the other. Going around in either direction would have involved either wading or climbing over loose rocks.... not to mention a lot of clearing of small brush. In the end I went through the middle! Now you can walk between the two sets of up-ended roots. It's neat, you can see old blackened wood between the roots, so probably the clump developed as shoots from a tree killed by fire, and you can see the layer of topsoil, then the layer of clay, and then sand. Sort of a geology lesson!

The 10C  temperature did not, unfortunately, deter the blackflies.

But you can walk all the way around again, and only have to duck once, and step over, I think three times. And it was nice and quiet and I didn't have to wear Hearing Protection or Eye Protection, or Steel-toed Boots or bring a gas can or lug a heavy machine.... there's a lot to be said for hand saws.

The Ups and Downs of a Gardening Day

I'm too tired to talk!

Started early to weed a small area in the Hillside Garden. Last summer's drought was so bad I lost heart and, sometime in July, quit weeding entirely. In fact, I quit even looking at the garden. So the crabgrass got happy and took over a patch about 15' by 20' in the middle of the border.

Practically as soon as I got started I broke the new garden fork I bought yesterday. Grrrrr. It's going back - it should not have broken. All I was doing was digging up grass; I wasn't even digging up rocks. I had to get the old bent fork back out of the garbage and go on with it, but felt I deserved a short walk-around first.

 

 Took a look at the Pussy Willow bush in the Sand Hill
Garden. The kitties were gorgeous today. So soft and large.... silver in the sunlight.


 This bush came up on its own and in a good place, but
I have to keep after it to make sure it doesn't turn into
a 40' tall tree!


Then the phone rang (inside my bucket where I keep it
so I don't lose it) and dang, a customer wants to come and
buy a gift for her daughter. Sure, I'll be home today, come
on out.

 

   Also in the sand garden, a beautiful blue
   Glory-of-the-snow blooming in front of a
   chunk of granite.

   Guess the squirrels missed one....bulb, I mean,
   not granite chunk.

  

There was a nice patch of it's pink cousin in the Sampler
Garden. For some reason, this one never gets eaten. From
a few bulbs the patch has grown to some dozens now.

I'm afraid to step anywhere in the Sampler. It is my
woodland garden, and the leaves are still covering just
about everything. Trilliums are coming up, looking quite
comical with caps of brown leaves tilted on their heads.

That so-called pond really needs work. I've decided to
get rid of it and changed my mind about six times already
and it is bugging me. Next week, a decision MUST be
made.

 Digging out crabgrass again,  I got to thinking, so
  many of our worst weeds are imports from Europe.

 Where does Europe get its weeds? 

Down at the edge of the Rockery the little pot of
Anemone blanda 'enem' (what a name, who came up
with this one?) made it through the winter.

What a lovely soft clear violet colour!

I didn't really expect it to survive. A. blanda is barely hardy
here. This one is tucked into a sun pocket in the rocks,
maybe that will help.

Drat, here's my customer.

She is nice enough and is happy to select a
large platter with a sunflower on it. Her husband, however,
needs work. First thing out of his mouth, he tells me he 'hates
gardening'. Alright, lots of people do, but does he have
to tell me three times?

I'll bet he watches sports on TV.

Ah, never mind. For sheer purpleness of being, nothing can
beat Iris reticulata. This small clump is pushing up from
under a prostrate white Spruce.

This Spruce survived the drought, most of the others
didn't. On the other hand, it may need to move. It is growing
across my path and the spot it is in doesn't do it justice. It
deserves a starring role. Must give this some thought....





My favorite little Daffodil, 'Tete-a-tete', so-called because every stem has two flowers on it, is blooming everywhere. I wanted to show you 'Rip van Winkle', but I couldn't find him; guess he is still asleep.

Tete-a-tete seeds itself around. You can move the clumps around anytime you find them, they never even
slow down.

Which is more than you can say for crabgrass. It neither sleeps nor slows ....

But I got the spot done, and never mind that I feel wrecked, it was a Grand Day in the Garden!

Some Cuttings

There's WHAT coming down???

Here's what we woke up to today:

Kip and I were NOT IMPRESSED! Yesterday the only snow left was under the trees and now look at it!

Mind you, now it is mid-afternoon and the stuff coming down is more rain than snow. But I'm staying holed up in my cosy office with a nice cup of hot coffee nearby.


Amaryllis

I was a bit worried that not many of my Amaryllis were going to bloom this year, but over the winter practically all of them have. I'm guessing that the bulbs you buy have all been grown to bloom at a specific time, but then when you grow them on, over time they drift to their own schedules. Many of them also put up a big crop of leaves before they bloom, unlike the ones you get from the stores.

So if all you get at first is leaves, don't give up. They may bloom yet!


Clivias

One more of my seedling Clivias has bloomed. It didn't have the wonderful soft fragrance of the other yellow one, but the flowers are a better shape and the colour is much more yellow. A beauty!

Fletcher Fern Garden

Stopped by the Fletcher the other day to check out the Fern Garden. The Garden itself was still covered with a layer of ice, but I was sorry to see bad news when I looked up at the Ash trees. I think they are pretty much all dead. Almost every one of them had large areas of bark picked off by woodpeckers, a sure sign of Emerald Ash Borer infestation. The Garden is in a area known as the Ash Woodlot, so this is a very sad thing. There are Maples in the understory, some of them 20' or more high, but it will be some time before they form a good new canopy.

I'm not sure what effect the lack of the overhead cover will have on the ferns. Obviously there will be less shade, but what worries me almost as much is that the lack of the larger trees will mean much less wind and weather protection. It is already a windy hilltop, now it might just be too dry and windy for them.

Not to mention that removing the trees will be a huge disruption and very damaging to the wildflowers.

OK. Head shake. We can plant new ones.



Snowdrops

Yesterday, before that nasty white stuff re-appeared, I had Snowdrops in bloom. I was surprised to see them - it has been very cold and there are still piles of icy snow under the trees, but there they were. Clusters of tiny white 'propellers' hanging gracefully over their emerging leaves.

Not a very good picture, I'm afraid. It was cold and getting dark. Typical snowdrop weather!

Snowdrops always remind me a garden in Manotick that I saw years ago. It belonged to very sweet person who had never cultivated them but had left them alone to take over her yard. There were thousands of flowers every spring. To the best of my knowledge they were all the same, but at the time I didn't know enough about them to check. I was a new gardener, and actually thought that, well, snowdrops were snowdrops.

Snowdrops are a major cult plant in the UK. Do a Google search and you'll see!

A Good Word for a Neglected Shrub

How about a good word for the lowly Forsythia? I know it is not in fashion right now, but I think it deserves better.

Yes, some people do prune it so it ends up looking like a lollipop.... or a pudding. But you don't have to do that. If you really want to keep the shrub shorter than its natural 8 to 10 feet, just remove the tallest 3 or 4 stems after they bloom. Don't take away too many as the shrub needs to keep its strength up, but you can usually remove up to a quarter of the bush each year without sending it into an irreversible decline.

Yes, it does spread a bit. The natural shrub, like the natural woman, spreads a bit with age. But you can easily enough dig out the stems that appear around the base of the plant to keep it within limits. It's no worse than lilacs, or some roses.

Yes, if it is a really cold winter, some of the flower buds will freeze. Then only the buds which were protected by snow will bloom, giving your shrub the effect of a bad home perm. The only thing you can do about that is to get the variety 'Ottawa', which is a good deal hardier than the species. Mine has come through this past winter's -28C temperatures with all flower buds intact.

But the best thing about Forsythia? It is just about the earliest and easiest to force flowering shrub we have. If you have a bush, go out right now and clip off some branches, the ones that show an abundance of the pointed brown buds. Just stick them in a glass of water in the window and in a week or so you'll have flowers. Here is a small branch I cut 14 days ago. It's still in great shape after being open for about a week. I warn you, I'm not a flower arranger.... you can do better than this:

The lovely vase, by the way, is by one of our local potters, Jen Drysdale. I bought it for my vase collection at the pottery sale, fireGifts, last October.

There are a couple of other varieties of Forsythia available as well. I have one which is prostrate, fanning itself out along the ground and rooting as it goes. I have it in the rock garden, cascading down a steep slope. Except for its tendency to swallow everything in its path, I wouldn't want to be without it when it blooms in early Spring. The third one I know of is supposed to be a dwarf.... well, it is maybe a little smaller than 'Ottawa'.

Forsythias are great in shrub borders, by the way. A brief burst of glory in early Spring, then a quiet green presence for the rest of the summer. It really ought to come back into fashion!

Another Snowy Day

We're again having another fine snow storm. How snowy is it? Well, look at Kip:

This was going out the get newspaper. Notice that you don't see his feet - he's standing in 5" of new snow. No going into town to look for a graphics card for my other computer for me today.  What a luxury to be self-employed and able to just hole up in my Studio or office and enjoy a snow day! I love working at home and not having to go out on days like these.

All this snow this winter will be very good for the region's aquifers. It's been so dry the last couple of years they were getting rather low. Maybe this spring my marsh will be back up to it's usual level.

Before I went in again I checked on the Plant Shed. Very nice in there, with the snow falling outside but things blooming and growing inside. Another of the Cattleya seedlings I bought a few years ago is showing its first flower, and a fine one it is, too.

The yellow Clivia is just opening a first floret. There are 15 buds on the stem this year. Last year this one had a wonderful fragrance so I'm looking forward to sniffing the air in the Shed tomorrow.

The scented Geraniums are blooming, too. One, which I think is called Mrs. Taylor although I have no idea why, is a wonderful mix of crimson, scarlet and purple. The Geraniums aren't getting enough light of course and are getting a bit sprawly but  I'll trim them back soon. Once it gets warm enough outside (and they can take quite cool temperatures) they'll go into the Herb Garden for the summer. They get quite huge, but cuttings taken late in the fall always grow. Here's Herself:

Well now, I do think it is time for hot chocolate.

Dream Time

Somewhere in the back of my head I have a sort of vague, confused notion that the Australian aboriginals (or is the New Zealand ones?) have a concept they call the 'dreamtime'. Not sure if they mean winter, or the state of hibernation, or a drugged state.... or worse, but I like the idea of being in a dream-like floating state while nasty stuff passes by around you. (In a healthy way, of course.) A good way to pass the 'down' days of January.

I may be coming out of it now, though. There are fat flower buds on many of my potted Amaryllis in the plant shed, buds on several of the Clivias, new growth on the geranium cuttings, and, SEEDS ARRIVED in the mail.

The sun is shining, it isn't as cold as it has been, things are moving in the plant shed, maybe I'll survive winter after all.

And speaking of dreamtime, some of the seeds that came are for Meconopsis 'Lingholm'. There is a small area near my marsh, fairly flat, fairly open, high enough not to be water-sogged, but low enough to stay damp a foot or so down even in summer, that might, just might, suit the fabled Blue Poppy. It is right on my Marsh Trail, with the Trillium Slope to the uphill side, and already has some huge Interrupted Ferns, a few plants of Lobelia cardinalis which did very well last year, and a ground cover of Foamflower, Bunchberry and Goldthread. Mind you, that white cedar which seems determined to fall down over the path to the ferns will have to come out, as will a few dozen small Maples, but that can be arranged. I understand that Meconopsis seeds need a cool place to germinate and grow and I figure the windowsill in the Studio will be just the ticket.

A flat of possible Meconopsis plants should be good for some happy dreaming. And 5-6 weeks from now, when I'll have to concede that maybe they really won't come up, it'll be close enough to spring that I'll have other things to dream about.

Ah, dreamtime.