Gardens in June: Aberdeen Calling

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Next up on the "Scottish Trip" was my primary destination- the garden I had visited so many times in cyberspace in Ian Young's Bulb Log Both Ian and his talented wife Maggi have been at the heart of the Scottish Rock Garden Society's ether presence for many years. Well, that said, they also were present at other pre-Facebook activities like writing for journals, garnering lots of medals at shows, judging, lecturing, etc. The popular bulb log was started in 2003. Meanwhile both Maggie and Ian are "hero" members of the famous SRGC Forum  Maggi is also co-editor for the International Rock Gardener and provides quite a bit of drive. To see this wonderful garden and visit with these amazing plants-people in person was a dream come true.  Imagine my delight as I peeked out the window in the early morning light. What a view.
 I chortled with delight. Since it was early June, days were long, but I felt no jet lag after the infusion of this scene. I raced downstairs.
My hosts were most hospitable and had laid out a breakfast feast. But I gave into an unmistakable urge to bolt outside and take a breath before I sat down. How sweet the air perfumed by Scotland and the alpines!
 You may have guessed by now I am fascinated with the shape and form of troughs. Not only are they sculpted with a static state, but also add an element of performance during the year.
So many new ideas to try - not only color but flow and texture. I love the compliment of the rock color choice echoing in the sedums, especially the Sedum pilosum, always a favorite. Is it the blue that is so attractive?
Edraianthus have been given a large trough filled with crevices to romp and roam. And what a good one is this. Usually mine will place themselves here and there, but never together for such a display. I did not determine if this was just one plant or many.
Edraianthus serpyllifolius

Mr. Meconopsis

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As spring slipped into summer 2013, I was lucky enough to be in Scotland. Perhaps, we should rename it the "Land of Meconopsis"? Ian Christie's fabulous nursery is there, all but hidden in a little town called Kirriemuir. After a relaxed full Scottish breakfast I set out from Edinburgh adjacent in the morning along winding roads that abutted farms. Before long I arrived in a wink-of-an-eye-town: don't blink or you will miss it. The drive through lasted less than a minute. After reversing my steps a couple of times I had to call. Ian is hidden from even Google Maps. This has likely happened before as he himself came out to direct me down the lane. What a fabulous sight: meconopsis in all shades of blue floating adrift over a demure landscape. Who knew blue might come in so many different shades, like a Pantone booklet.

Meconopsis beds
The day was quite gray and overhung, but seeing these beauties lifted the spirits and put a twinkle in the view. Ian is a well known plant guru for several rare species. And meconopsis seem to have captivated him for some time now. The beds there hold probably every known cultivar.
Meconopsis in the shade house
These plants Ian meticulously maintains by division, which he sells to the fortunate gardeners. I did notice the soil was quite rich. Immediately I began to calculate how I might grow them. They would have no problem with the wet cool days of New England, but would need extra water and shade during our (new) overheated dog days of summer. (Hey, if kabs can make it, why not meconopsis?)
True Blue
 What surprised me most was the color variation. Yes there is even an alba form. Next I noticed differences in the size, from salad plate size to handful. Thinking it over - given a century of hybrids or cultivars, I see how everyone got to choose. I wonder how many medals it took. Was it an annual event - to see what next in meconopsis winners?
Ethereal Blue
One thing for sure - meconopsis are hearty eaters. Yes the soil was quite remarkable: rich, friable and deep. Years of composted leaves turned the clay to brown gold. Seems, though, from the banter as we walked along, that they would be indiscriminate as to the type of compost. Made me think vegetable beds soil. Where can I squeeze some in?
Meconopsis punicea
Although blue cultivars predominated, the red of punicea was pretty dazzling too. Of course I shall have to try it at home too. What a red!

May - A State of Mind

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Concord MA
Early May in Concord MA
 With apologies to Dryden and his translation of the opening of  Lucretius' De Rerum Natura:
Delight of humankind, and gods above,
Parent of Rome; propitious Queen of Love,
Whose vital power, air, earth, and sea supplies,
And breeds whatever is born beneath the rolling skies:
For every kind, by thy prolific might,
Springs, and beholds the regions of the light.
Thee, Goddess, thee the clouds and tempests fear,
And at thy pleasing presence disappear:
For thee the land in fragrant flowers is dressed;
For thee the ocean smiles, and smooths her wavy breast;
And heaven itself with more serene and purer light is blessed.
For when the rising spring adorns the mead,
And a new scene of nature stands displayed,
When teeming buds, and cheerful greens appear,
And western gales unlock the lazy year:
The joyous birds thy welcome first express;
Whose native songs thy genial fire confess;
Then savage beasts bound over their slighted food,
Struck with thy darts, and tempt the raging flood.
All nature is thy gift; earth, air, and sea:
Of all that breathes~ the various progeny,
Stung with delight, is goaded on by thee.
Over barren mountains, over the flowery plain,
The leafy forest, and the liquid main
Extends thy uncontrolled and boundless reign.

Still Silently Seeking Seeds

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Well, you know how it is - when seedlists appear I go right into seek mode, flagging corners on each page of printed copies, making a mental note of where I would grow that species in the garden, deciding what really is the difference in that subspecies or the other, do I want to travel someday to that habitat, and do I need it - really (yes). Seeking is one of the blue ribbon emotions in animals according to what I read in "Animals Make Us Human" by Temple Grandin. It did not take much for me, albeit an animal, but at the top of the chain, to relate personally to what I read, especially about curiosity. Grandin's blue ribbon emotions “generate well-organized behavior sequences that can be evoked by localized electrical stimulation”. So change out the words "localized electrical" for email. Seeking, I understand, is anticipation, curiosity and desire all rolled together. Don't confuse this with pleasure. As any seed-aholic knows, it's the trill of the call...anticipation to investigate...the "what's new!" as one opens the list. Even if I don't order a thing, the world, my world, will be further framed with exploration, understanding and sense. I don't have to smell the flower; just the wonder will do. According to Grandin this emotion is from a genetic basis, not a learned behaviors. This is exactly what I tell my family - it's genetic! Yes I agree. To be truly happy, I instinctively peruse any seedlist that comes my way.

A mere glance at my first NARGS seedlist (back in the 1980'ies) evoked expanding images of my favorite vision-the garden and the wild. As I became attuned to various collections/collector's lists, a kaleidoscope of images poured out. At that time I was very much a devotee of Carrol's Alice, and remember I immediately sensed "burning with curiosity" when I saw an unknown seedlist on my friend's Norman's kitchen table.  Credit him for feeding me an endless supply of lists, many private as he regaled me with stories of packaging seeds on Ev Whittemore's kitchen table for the (then) ARGS. For me each seedlist opens "curiouser and curiouser." Is that a species new to cultivation or is it a rename like Spongiocarpella to Chesneya purpurea? Just when one thinks they have the coloring book of the world finished, something else, fantastic and amazing, pops up on a list. And so far, I am only up to the rock garden plants.

This should give you an idea of the restraint necessary to pass up the opportunity to open a list, any list. When Holubec's list came just before the holidays, I swooned. But briefly, as there were pressing gifts to find for other people, holiday parties, small grandchildren to tend, oh and add in the Big Project due at work. So I procrastinated, since it actually takes time to mail an order. But to be fair, I just kept up with the little people and could not think of anything else.

But during the hiatus of the Christmas holidays, I was on auto pilot. Not a thought but "get the order in" prevailed when the NARGS seedlist alarm went off in my desktop calendar. In case of a seedlist like this, it matters to get one's order in immediately, for a place in fulfillment line. So I, and let me humbly say, in two brief evening sittings, got the online order submitted and paid before a disciplined work ethic could prevail . (Yes, online seed sources are very dangerous. Congratulations to NARGS for making their list so accessible for seed-aholics everywhere to imbibe before reason or the three year old demands attention.)

The annual tea with "seedy" fellows, mostly western Astragalus
Other lists came flashing in via email. By then restraint conditioned from the hundreds of daily emails (the ones that make it past the spam filter because I really want to read them - someday) easily took hold. Alplains snail mailed their catalog, bypassing my conditioning. What a great list! The listing of phlox captured my sensibilities. Pages marked, I was ready to order them all. But wait. As I cleaned up after the holiday clutter I was taken aback by my gardening tins. There were hundreds of seeds I did not get to sow last year! Argh.


Time to regroup. I swore on the spot I would not order until I had sowed every packet in the house. Alpines that is. No need to think of vegetables until February or March. This resolution was short lived. I attended my local Primula Society meeting at Matt & Joe's. The chapter had purchased a share in Chris Chadwell's expedition and was dividing the seeds. How could I refuse to try Primula reidii one more time?  I know just the spot for it now - positioned at the grit base of the sax crevice bed. Who knows when seed will available again?

Ok, but that is all I told myself. No ordering until everything is sowed. So I set to work mixing up soil-less potting mix with sand blasting grit, 5 to 1. After packing small seedling pots full of the mix, I spread the seeds on top for things like penstemons, barely covered saxifraga with grit, and completely covered astragalus and oxytropis (which I had soaked) with a hefty half inch of the grit. I went ahead and planted Ranunculaceae types, even though I have had poor luck with second year sowings. But I am a gardener, so hope prevails.

Chorispora bungeana soaking in warm water
When I was soaking the pea family seeds in preparation, I thought to include Chorispora bungeana just to give it a boost. This delicate little brassica from Afghanistan and Pakistan did plump up eventually, and it turned the water a light green! After its photo, I added a little pineapple juice to the cup and stirred. Several more seeds sank to the bottom and plumped.

Now all seeds needing stratification have been sown and placed outside. The weather cooperated and added a light covering of snow. This morning is was -12 F (-24C) and going colder tonight. We'll have a short thaw next weekend. Perfect. That leaves plenty of time for the 92 species to put under lights in the basement. Next weekend!

This has temporarily limited my enthusiasm for sowing. So I must be silent when I seek through the lists. Don't you miss out. Check out exotic Holubec or western US Alplains  or Chadwell Seeds and order. Grow something new and marvelous. Pot up a few extras to share at meetings. See you there.  Happy Gardening!

March Wins "Cruelest Month 2012"

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NARGS Annual/Western Study Meeting March 9-11 2012

On the road to the Bellevue Botanic Alpine Rock Garden
We arrived early for the NARGS Study Weekend entitled "Stop the Car", full of hope for mild spring weather on the tour of the pre-conference garden visits. First stop was Bellevue Botanic Garden. Clouds surrounded us but I thought the weather might be called hopeful. Granted, it did not take much to inspire me since home was covered with several inches of ice and snow as I left. And storm coats were shed!
Bellevue Botanic Alpine Garden
Alpine Rock Garden sign
My friend Anne had been following the progress of this Alpine Garden with great interest for many years. I remembered seeing the original plans back in the '90ies, but had not heard much about it recently. NARGS member Micheal Moshier had drawn up the plans and supervised the installation. (Remember Roy Davidson's splendid little book Lewisias ? Micheal was the illustrator.)

The Rock Garden -what a grand place! Though we beheld it a few weeks before the spring flush of growth, the winter bones were enough. We were thrilled. Things were opening...

Down the garden path
As I recall, the garden began as a rock outcropping, focusing on rare plants. It was quite unconventional for the rock gardening world. Sometime later, vertical additions were made, resembling more of a Kew like standard. Now it is a settled garden: shrubs and trees classically framed a half circle of paths meandering through reclining rocks. There are many vertical features.

Winter garden bones flanked by narcissus
There was plenty of color, albeit for the most part earth tones. Erica was everywhere, providing sustenance for the few bugs that were out. Bulbs were just up, dotting the landscape.
Buns softening the rock garden
By this stage in the garden's life, plantings are large enough to drape and flow. There were the usual suspects, mostly common ones to take the thrashing of the crowds. While it is very difficult to keep extra choice species in a public garden, the gardeners made up for it by superbly growing the what they had.

A variety of daphnes at the base
Lucky for Bellevue to have Rick Lupp (Mt Tahoma Nursery, who does amazing things propagating daphne) live so nearby. As one might expect, there were many, very nice daphne sprinkled about. We encountered the curator trimming them back as we progressed down the path.
Exit to the Perennial Garden
Bellevue WA has its own share of weather woes, as do we all. Many of the rhodies were out when they had killing temperatures. And it was funny to think of the season not to be late enough for the rock garden, but just right for the perennial garden show. But we took the curator's word and made an exit stage right. And yes, what I would have called a woodland garden was in progress. But more on that at another time.

Hard Freeze Tonight

Hepatica x transylvanica opened soon after my return, but did not last long in the heat
 Tonight, two weeks later back at home, we are about at the point of the Bellevue Garden. And we are expecting our first hard freeze in almost a month. After I flew back, I did not bother to unearth my storm coat - until today. My first job upon return was to cover the greenhouse with shade cloth - in March! All last week it was short sleeve weather. Rod started putting in the patio stone to finish off the crevice gardens and got a sunburn for his efforts.
Helleborus thibetanus opened later in the week
Everything sprouted simultaneously, from Corydalis solida to Helleborus thibetanus to the sax bed. And tonight they issued warnings for a hard freeze. At dinner it was already freezing outside. I guess this is what the Bellevue Garden lived through. Keep your fingers crossed!
Jeffersonia dubia seems prepared while J. diphylla 's head is not even out of bed
Saxes add some color to the gray days of March
Saxifraga oppositifolia - will it frost kill?


Year of the Black Water Dragon

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Happy New Year to You!
Outdoor Nativity in Sharon CT
From Korea, Nam Hee writes that the Black Dragon sign comes only once in 60 years, this time on the 23rd of January via the lunar calendar for the Chinese/ Korean New Year. This year, 2012, is special and we may start all over again. Good news! As I write this on the last day of the year of the white rabbit, I see many benefits from a change. (To be fair I am just recuperating from a nasty virus, which does color my view, but does give me time to finally start blogging again.)

Rider enjoys the kachelofen
By the fall of last year, I thought perhaps to give up gardening, at the very least, vegetable gardening. The hurricane drowned any fire in my heart as I watched a bountiful plot of winter squash rot in the standing water. I still had not put the garden to bed when the October snowstorm dumped its load so I sank into the proverbial winter armchair for November. That is, when I had a chance to sit. Rod tore out the Helios, a masonry heater he is developing. In its place he constructed a tile kachelofen, complete with wrapping maple bench. Translation: I spent most spare moments cleaning up construction dust again and again. 

The weather then reverted, the snow disappeared, and the early bulbs shot up. So ok, I was a little inspired and worked in the garden. Yesterday, we finally had a little snow cover, but the forecast for tomorrow, Monday - the Chinese New Year - is rain. Yuk. Ok, probably zone 6/7 plants will survive outside this winter and last summer was a good year for green beans and garlic. But many exotic seedlings in the nursery did not make it through the fall. Germination was good in the spring, but they disappeared after the hurricane. The record 73 inches of rain for last year was definitely not to their liking. (Note- kept the seedpots as there may be germination again.) The crevice beds fared much better. Drainage is the key. All the acantholimons made it. There was even a rebloom on Iris mellita in the warmth of late November.

The beaver pond one the way to Sharon


During that black spell on the weather in the fall, I couldn't even bear to look at seed lists. There were some great plants mentioned, I found out later. My regret mounts as I check out Holubec's, truly stellar list this season. And the pictures of his travels are breathtaking. It was in the midst of the family Christmas holiday season when I saw his website, and quickly made a wish list on Pinterest.


Veltheimia bracteata

Do you know that site? It really fills the need for those of us who think visually. After you join you are given a little Pin button for your browser. Then you can grab webpage images and add them to your pin boards, hosted on their site. Most people use it like we as children did with an old Sears catalog, circling wants, or later on as we grew up, tearing out pages to keep in a folder of ideas. The main board feed is rarely of interest to me, but if you know where to look, there is great humor. And yes, it can be yet another addictive escape exit for middle of the night. Too, it's a great place to sort out one's emotions visually.
Alan Bradhsaw's Alplains list is again the best of the west. While I have quite a bit of seed to sow from my travels to Colorado last summer, there are a few items on his list I know are must-have. Of course, I need to order them first before I tell everyone about them! And don't forget the society lists of NARGS and APSChris Chadwell even is sending out a list this year. There is still time.  So I will use this day, where I am forced into bed by a cold, to catch up and order. It is a good year to start over again.
Finally some snow cover on the garden!
Blessings to your and your family! May all your seedlings make it through planting out.

Colorado Day 11- Horseshoe Mountain 1

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July - the road to Horseshoe
   Has it ever happened to you, one of those days, when even getting lost with a GPS, or turned back by impassible snow-filled roads, has not thwarted your chance for a stellar day that will glow in your memory for all time? I dreamed of Horseshoe Mountain during years of rock garden club slide shows, knowing someday I would connect with the majesty of the place. And it was still a surprise, this place, overwhelming all my senses with saturated color in earth and sky as only as a high mountain can. No it was not altitude deprivation!

Trifolium nanum
Since the Jeep would not traverse the blocked road, I backed up, parking at the crook, and walked the right fork pointing up to the mine. This was now an ATV road, but washed out in some places by the rains. I know that because the mine owners were zooming uphill noisily on ATV's, stopping only to check me out, and warm me about the fate of others who were trapped in a rollover for many days during the previous year. I assured them I had cell reception on my phone, but really in my heart I knew this day was mine. It was early in the day, the sunlight a white gold, adding sparkles to the opening flora. Encouraged by Trifolium nanum and Hymenoxis acaulis as well as some large budded Arenaria obtusiloba I ventured up the steep path with long breaths. Parking elevation was probably about 12,000 feet. That of an East Coast landlubber for years now, my system was no match for the altitude and it was slow going. (Have you tried growing the trifolium? Germination does not seem to be the problem. Seedlings in my garden were strong until the August wet melted them down. However, hopeful I will remain to see if they will like the xeric area, when I try them again!)

Here and there was an unfamiliar plant: fleshy leaves not more than 8 inches high, fantastic parallel veining with a blush of red at the base and tips. Seems noteworthy that the plants yet to bloom were at lower elevations. A hundred yards or so uphill I spotted the bloom - Frasera speciosa, so-called "Monument Plant" standing high in the alpine zones of the West. I never met a gentian I didn't like and this was quite novel. Seed of gentiana is usually pretty effortless to grow, as long as it is still viable, so it too goes on my want list.
Frasera speciosa
As I continued uphill, scrophs started making an appearance, first being Penstemon hallii. While detouring around a washout and though some scrubby salix, trying to keep my summer hiking boots out of the mud,  I almost stumbled over the bewitching Chionophila jamesii. A whole colony were reveling in the moist shade of the willows, not underneath, but in clearways within the scrub. They were showstoppers against the black earth.
Chionophila jamesii
Chionophila jamesii grouping
Chionophila jamesii - the 'snow beloved'
A little further up the path there were others who also seemed to like the moist seeps like my old friend Sedum integrifolium - the King's Crown.
Sedum integrifolium
Other moisture lovers were there too, like mertensia (maybe ciliata?), mixed with a little trifolium (maybe dasyphyllum?).
Mertensia with Trifolium
Next, looking very mossy and errant but rouged for a somewhat of a good showing, was a very soft Silene acaulis. This is one plant that never completely seems to relax in the garden, preferring its loose ways in the wild to treat us to the best bloom. Oh, well, it does set seed very prodigiously.
Silene acaulis
 About then, the first eritrichium, aretioides, that blue, made itself known, followed by the white bloom of Phlox condensata and purple Polemonium viscosum and Phacelia sericea and more penstemons. The road again beckoned "upwards" with glints of gold.
to be continued...