Autumn, really?

I started this blog a week or so after the vernal equinox. Approximately six posts later and I find myself at the autumnal equinox. Not very impressive, and not what I had in mind when I set out to write this blog. Never the less, I am sticking with it.

Our summer has been about eating local fruits and veggies. We have picked blueberries and raspberries on Sauvie's Island, we have visited our neighborhood Farmer's Market as often as possible and in the last few weeks we have been enjoying tomatoes and basil from our own garden. Lots and lots of tomatoes. We eat them cooked, we eat them raw, we have cooked them and then frozen them, and still they come. I imagine it will be hugely satisfying to eat tomato sauce made from our garden in the middle of January.

With an 18 month old a lot of the day is spent walking. We are lucky to live in a very walkable neighborhood. As we walk, we graze on the berries growing in our friend's gardens. Warm from the sun and sweet, sweet, sweet. They are summertime. As fall approaches though, an unwelcome visitor makes his presence known. Solanum, or Nightshade scrambles and sprawls through hedges, over fences and laces itself through other plants. Its green fruit are just now turning a brilliant red, and that's the problem. As the shiny fruit dangle in our path and even over the same fence as some of our favorite raspberries, I have to watch carefully and explain that those must not be eaten. They could be quite toxic and possible deadly to a small child. According to this site the ripe fruit are not as toxic as the leaves, but then its not the leaves that are enticing. If you see it in your garden - pull it out! It's an invasive weed as well as dangerous.

The nightshade family, Solanaceae, includes wonderful plants like tomatoes, potatoes, eggplants, peppers and the summer blooming Datura. Many of the the plants in this family are used medicinally, and have found their way into legend and lore. They have been connected to human lives for centuries. Someday my girl may be fascinated with all this ethnobotany, but for now she's after the last of summer's berries and so I'll keep my eye out.

Beauty and the Beast

It's Peony season.  There are countless varieties and more always in the works, but I would argue that the most luscious, the one most worth the winter wait, is Paeonia rockii.  Rock's peony, named for plantsman Joseph Rock, being a tree peony is just a bunch of knobbly, bare sticks through the winter.  The date in late spring varies, (this year it was in the days around May 15th), and if the rain holds off this glorious plant bursts into bloom almost all at once.  If such a beauty were to last all summer it would become too much. It lasts maybe a week, but each day is richer for it.  It's like ripe boysenberries in a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

In contrast to this gorgeous plant, which is not mine, I have in my own garden this little monster.  I waited and watched the buds slowly swell and then open up into a complicated and intriguing flower.  It's hard to know what's a petal and what's a pistil with these guys - they are that strange.  From bud to bloom they last at least a month.  Those russet banners fall away and reveal a pale green center that hangs from the middle like an inverted parasol.  The stamens are hidden up inside. I am not sure which carnivorous pitcher plant this is. We picked him up at a plant sale and I have long since lost the tag.  He loves wet, boggy soils and we have found that part sun is better than a full bake in the afternoon heat - the colors are better and overall appearance less stressed.  Strange and wonderful.

Catch Up

I never  imagined it would take me so long to put together another post. So, in a desperate measure I will post a photo heavy entry.  My daughter just turned one. When I was pregnant I would daydream about all the time I would get to spend in the garden when I was staying home with her. How naive I was.  Gardens, unlike some projects, do not stop when you walk away. They do not sit in a basket like a half knitted hat and patiently wait for your return. No way. They keep on.  Weeds pop up everywhere, blooms go to seed, and plants sprawl, wander and flop. Playing catch up is a big part of gardening.

A walk through my garden revealed these. Enjoy, and don't give up on me just yet. I have a book review and some design posts in the works.

From top to bottom: Iris tenax, Michelia yunnanensis also called Magnolia dianica, two photos of Cotinus 'Grace', and Tulipa 'Queen of the Night'.

Ribes in Bloom

Remember those buds waiting in the rain for the sun to come out? Well, the sun shone for four wonderful days (including a weekend) and my Ribes x gordonianum is now in flower. Red buds gave way to star shaped yellow-orange blooms.  I am a sucker for this two toned effect. The flowers from a distance are warm and peachy.  Our own native Ribes sanguineum is one of the parents, but after doing a little research online I found the other parent listed as  R. odoratum and R. petraeum. I'll have to do some more digging; either way it is a beautiful plant. 

Winter currants are in bloom all over.  Ribes sanguineum is covered in clusters ranging from light to dark lipstick pink. There is also a white one called 'Icicle' which is lovely. I think it looks great with many of the blue flowered spring bloomers like Brunnera and Pulmonaria planted underneath. Currants are a favorite with both the resident Anna and the visiting Rufous hummingbirds.  They dart in and out of the blooms with full springtime abandon. 

Happy Accidents

Just now I'm excited about a show of color in my front bed which is at least as much accident as plan. Sure, I chose the plants and planted them, but I have to admit I anticipated only a part of what eventually happened.  In order to create just the right combination in a client's garden, I have spent hours pouring over books and notes, looking up a plant online to see what it looks like at various times of year. Sometimes the plans come easily, other times, either because of constraints like shade, blazing afternoon sun, or the knowledge that the maintenance will be sporadic, they come after much deliberation and research.  

Then there are the situations like my front bed.  When I found that evergreen shrub Distylium myricoides at a nursery I bought it because it is in the Hamamelis family. I love this plant family almost without exception, and those that I don't love I still like and would invite into my garden.  I had never run across or heard of Distylium, and it was an evergreen, which I was in the market for.  I took it home and planted it not far from its lovely cousin Hamamelis x intermedia 'Jalena', Witch Hazel.  Nearby was an established, if dormant, clump of Hackonecloa macra 'Aureola', Japanese forest grass and a Paeonia mlokosewitschii, Peony Molly-the-Witch.  A few more of winter's grey months passed and the garden started to wake up.  The Hackonecloa and the Peony pushed up through the earth. The dark, wet mulch helping to show off their beautiful new leaves.

When Paeonia mlokosewitchii (a mouthful) emerges starting in March her leaves and stems are a deep pinky brown and they break out of leaf sheaths that are darker still.  They are lovely and robust and look wonderful when the rain drops collect in the still curled up leaf bases. A good thing given that the rain has no intention of stopping any time soon. The blades of the Hackonecloa are spiky at first as they poke out of the ground surrounded by last years dry, cut back stems. Their vibrant yellow-green blades  look backlit even without benefit of sunlight - so you can imagine what a little sun can do.  Here is where the Distylium comes in. I knew this plant would have small, fringey, wine-red flowers. 

What came as a surprise and a delight was the new growth.  The mature leaves are dark green with a blue cast, but the new growth is a peachy green.  The peachy-ness talks with the new leaves of the Peony and the green-ness makes the Hackonecloa sparkle even more. This is happening while those dark red flowers I mentioned bring out the red-pink staining in the Peony's stems. I could add, just to really go over the top, that the little calyxes left over from the Hamamelis blooms are the same red as the Distylium bloom. 

The overall effect is of the opaque darkness of soil and leaf shot through with brilliant flecks of bright sunlit green. In this combination of plants I have all that I love about spring.  If only I could say it was on purpose. I did go on to add the Euphorbia 'Efanthia' with its deep purple-red leaves and chartruese flowers when I discovered all this wonderful color play.  I am hoping it gets enough sun under there to amount to something.  Then the show will really be worth the long winter wait.

Spring and a Beginning

                                   

Spring is officially here. In fact, the vernal equinox was a couple of weeks ago, but Portland being Portland, the weather is wet, cold and grey. Right now I can hear water dripping and sluicing its way down from my roof to the muddy garden below. We have had a couple of teaser days though. Days when the sun shone and the crocuses opened their cups up to catch the warmth. On those days the urge to get out into the spring-time garden is strong. Hesitation, or in my case the thought that I'll get out there tomorrow, has been rewarded with cold and more wet. The sunshine and warm air has been fleeting this year. After a winter that broke records for days of snow on the ground, spring when it really does come, will be a balm and a relief. It will certainly be an invitation to get out in the garden.

This first post is also an invitation. To join me here at PLOT while I write and wonder about gardens, gardening, landscape and design.  This blog is still very much under construction - but I have big plans. 

photo: Ribes x gordonianum waiting for the sun to shine in my back garden, April 2009