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Evergreen Ferns for Shade & Stylish Blogger Award

Posted in evergreen, Shade Gardening, Shade Perennials with tags , , , , , , , , , , on February 24, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

US. native hart’s-tongue fern, Phyllitis scolopendrium, is especially beautiful in my garden in the spring as it unfurls, April 2010

Spring is in the wind here today with unseasonably warm temperatures of almost 70 degrees F (21 C).  The ten day forecast shows more seasonable temperatures with highs in the mid-forties.  Although spring is definitely on the way (it snowed and went down to 10 degrees since I wrote this!), the beauty of snow has been replaced with the grays and browns of late winter, not a look I treasure.  That makes any plants that liven up the gardens very important at this time of year, and evergreen ferns do just that.  Five of my favorites are profiled below.

Hart’s-tongue fern is also very beautiful in the fall, mid-November 2010 with Christmas rose and pulmonaria

Hart’s-tongue fern, Phyllitis scolopendrium (zones 5 to 9), may be my favorite all time fern (today anyway).  It has a very unique look that is absolutely magical when it unfurls in the spring (photo at top), and it maintains its good looks until it disappears under the snow (photo above).  Even now it is quite presentable after our snowy and icy winter with only slight browning.

Although I call it a US native, hart’s tongue fern is actually indigenous to Europe, Asia, and North America, including the mid-Atlantic.  However, according to John Mickel in Ferns for American Gardens, the US variety does poorly in cultivation, and all cultivated material is from the European variety.  It is a clump-forming fern, growing 8 to 16″ tall with shiny, leathery fronds.  It is easy to grow but suffers if over-watered and must be well-drained.  I grow mine in part shade on a slope with plenty of organic matter.  In the wild it is limestone-loving, but I haven’t found this to be necessary in my garden.


Japanese holly fern, Cyrtomium falcatum, makes quite a statement in my mid-November garden

Japanese holly fern, Cyrtomium falcatum (zones 6 to 10), is another favorite of mine.  Individual plants grown as a specimen can be up to 2 feet tall and 3 feet across making quite a bold statement in the garden.  It grows well in the deep shade of my woodland garden where there is more construction rubble than soil as well as on my partly shaded but very open back slope.  Right now it is serving as a backdrop for the giant snowdrops, Galanthus elwesii, that are emerging between its fronds, which have been flattened by snow.

Japanese holly fern is native to Hawaii (do we call it a US native?), southern Africa, and across southern Asia.  Although it is uncommon in the mid-Atlantic, it is quite commonly grown in the southern parts of the US and has naturalized in some areas.  It is clump-forming with an elegant, vase-like habit and 4 to 7″ wide, glossy dark green fronds with toothed pinnae that resemble holly leaves.  It prefers good drainage and organic soil in part to full shade.


U.S. native deer fern, Blechnum spicant, also shines in my mid-November garden

Deer fern, Blechnum spicant (zones 5 to 8), was new to my garden in spring of 2010 so, despite its moist native habitat, it survived  this summer’s record-breaking heat and drought.  The unusual texture provided by its linear segments is a great addition to the border in front of my fall-blooming camellias.  It is in an eastern-facing location with high shade.  Right now, though flattened by the snow and ice, the fronds look almost the same as in the photo above despite our hard winter.

Deer fern is native to moist coniferous forests in the US Pacific Northwest and Europe.  Its two types of fronds are very distinct.  The sterile fronds (pictured above) are 8 to 20″ long, evergreen, and prostrate, while the fountain-like fertile fronds, which emerge in the spring, are 16 to 24″ long,  deciduous, and erect.  It puts on quite a show in the spring.  Deer fern grows in part to full shade in acid soil enriched with organic matter and spreads slowly by short creeping rhizomes.


Tassel fern, Polystichum polyblepharum, growing in dry shade at the base of my Kentucky coffee tree in mid-November

Tassel fern, Polystichum polyblepharum (zones 5 to 8), is a very trouble-free, evergreen fern that I have grown for years.  I found that it does not do well in full shade, but thrives in high shade with dappled light.  It is absolutely gorgeous in the spring, when the reddish, hairy new fronds unfurl  (photo below) and still looks spectacular at the end of a hot dry summer (photo above).  Right now it is flat to the ground exposing its fleecy stems even more.

The bristly new fronds of tassel fern unfurl, photo courtesy of the Missouri Botanical Garden PlantFinder

Tassel fern is native to Japan and southern Korea.  According to Mickel, its species name means “many eyelashes” referring to its bristly, pubescent stems, which are really quite eye-catching even when fully emerged.  Its lustrous dark green fronds form an elegant, vase-like crown 2 feet tall and 2 feet wide.  It makes an excellent specimen.  Grow it in part shade in a well-drained, humus-rich site.


U.S. native Christmas fern, Polystichum acrostichoides, is ornamental 365 days a year in my garden, photo courtesy of the Missouri Botanical Garden PlantFinder

Christmas fern, Polystichum acrostichoides (zones 3 to 9), is without a doubt the best evergreen fern for mid-Atlantic US gardens.  It grows well everywhere in my garden from my deeply shaded woodland to more sunny, rocky slopes.  Right now, although not as upright as the photo above, it is the most presentable evergreen fern after our long, hard winter.

Christmas fern growing an a rocky outcropping in Great Smoky Mountain National Park, Tennessee

Christmas fern is native to the whole eastern half of North America, including all of Pennsylvania.  According to Mickel, its common name arose because it was used by early settlers as Christmas decorations.  The lance-shaped, dark green, leathery fronds provide excellent winter interest.  The two foot tall, fountain-like clumps increase in size over time, forming multiple crowns and making it easy to divide.  Christmas fern is very easy to grow in part shade to full shade and in moist to dry soil and can be used on slopes to prevent erosion.

I hope I have convinced you to go outside and investigate where you can add some evergreen ferns for year round interest.

Please let me know in a comment/reply what evergreen ferns you grow in your garden.

Carolyn


Notes: John Mickel is Curator of Ferns for the New York Botanical Gardens.  His book, Ferns for American Gardens, is an excellent resource discussing over 400 ferns with hundreds of photos.  I have added it to my sidebar under Books so you can always find it.

Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

Nursery Happenings: I am currently accepting orders for snowdrops, including  mail orders.  For the catalogue and order information, click here.  I am taking reservations for my Hellebore Seminars for the Totally Obsessed.  For the brochure and registration information, click here.  I have three spaces left for the March 6 session of Charles Cresson’s Snowdrops and Other Winter Interest Plants Seminar.  For the brochure and registration information, click here.

I have recently been honored with the Stylish Blogger Award by six different blogs, and I want to thank them for the accolade.  My friends would really laugh to hear the word stylish applied to me as a person, but I am glad I am making up for that with my blog.  I am not following the award rules, but instead letting you know who gave me the award in hopes that you will visit their blogs.  Here are the links and some information to entice you to visit them:

Deb’s Garden: Deb shares her gardening experiences on 3.5 partially wooded acres in Helena, Alabama.

Island Threads: Frances battles the elements on the northern tip of an island off the northwest coast of Scotland.

Orchid de Dangau: Makirimi collects and grows orchids in Malaysia.

Southern Meadows: Karin writes about nature and gardening in northeastern Georgia.

Sweet Bean Gardening: Hanni is developing a cottage garden in Indiana with her two young daughters.

The Suburban Gardener: Lily specializes in lilies and hostas in her shady suburban Chicago, Illinois, garden.


66 Comments »

Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Posted in garden to visit with tags on February 18, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

Visitor Center, photo Barbara Freeman, Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

As the grays and browns of late winter replace the snow, it is uplifting to look back on the amazing botanical garden I visited in September.  I was in Maine for my birthday and, if that wasn’t present enough, my husband and son took me garden visiting to Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay, Maine, US.  Even though I come from the mid-Atlantic, home to many of the best public gardens in the US, and have visited gardens all over the world, I was wowed by this new but impeccably executed garden by the sea.

Children’s Garden, photo William Cullina, Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens opened officially in June of 2007 after 16 years of meticulous planning by an incredibly dedicated group of Maine residents and the talented experts they hired.  After searching since 1991, this intrepid group purchased 128 acres of pristine land with 3800 feet of tidal shore frontage in 1996, using their own homes as collateral.  An additional gift in 2005 brought the total to 248 acres and almost a mile of shoreline, saving it all from development.

Planting began in 2001 and the impressive Maine cottage style visitor center (photo at top) opened in 2007.  This summer saw the opening of the magical children’s garden (photo above) themed to highlight children’s literature with a Maine connection.

Kitchen Garden, photo Barbara Freeman, Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Walking around the designed portions of the gardens was such a pleasure because both the overall design of each area and also the attention to individual details is exceptional.  The light and airy cafe opens onto an elegant kitchen garden (photo above) planted with herbs, vegetables, edible flowers, berries, and an orchard of hardy heirloom apple and pear trees.  Creative and beautiful stonework graces every area of the 15 acres of ornamental gardens (see photos below).

Rose and Perennial Garden, photo William Cullina, Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Each area of the landscape from the cottage style rose garden (photo above) to the more naturalistic rhododendron garden (photo below) was a treat for the eyes.  And each individual plant within these gardens was impeccably grown (collage below).

Obviously I focused on shade plants!

If that description isn’t effusive enough, what I treasured the most was my walk along the miles of trails showcasing the untouched waterfront and woodlands that are quintessentially Maine.  The views of the tidal inlet are spectacular (photo of cove below).  The pristine woodlands are something rarely found in the rest of the continental US (photo of trail below).

Huckleberry Cove, photo William Cullina, Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Huckleberry Cove Trail, photo William Cullina, Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

It is hard to imagine if you haven’t seen it, but every inch of the trails, woodlands, and especially the rocks is covered with moss (photo below).  As you look closer, you realize that every rock holds a garden of its own more beautiful than any human, no matter how talented, could create (see collage below).  I would visit Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens just to see the magnificence of nature untouched.

What Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens has accomplished in the short period of time it has been in existence is nothing short of remarkable.  A beautifully designed and executed ornamental garden set like a jewel in a spectacular natural setting: it doesn’t get much better than that.

Carolyn


Notes: If you want to know more about Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens and see more beautiful photos, click here.  I have also added Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens to my sidebar under Places to Visit so you will always be able to find it.   International visitors to the US should consider adding the State of Maine to your itinerary—one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

Nursery Happenings: I am currently accepting orders for snowdrops, including  mail orders.  For the catalogue and order information, click here.  I am taking reservations for my Hellebore Seminars for the Totally Obsessed.  For the brochure and registration information, click here.  I have four spaces left for Charles Cresson’s Snowdrops and Other Winter Interest Plants Seminar.  For the brochure and registration information, click here.

64 Comments »

February GBBD: Add to Your Spring Shopping List

Posted in Garden Blogger's Bloom Day, garden to visit, hellebores, snowdrops, winter, winter interest with tags , , , , , , , , , , on February 14, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

“Spring-blooming” hardy cyclamen, Cyclamen coum, sends out its first bud

It is time to walk around your garden again and assess what you need to add to make the end of winter an exciting time in your landscape.  Do you need more early-blooming hellebores to give you a reason to go outside?  Could your garden benefit from flowers that bloom in January and February like hardy cyclamen, snow crocus, or snowdrops to relieve the gray?  Make a list and take photographs so that when you are shopping this spring you know what you need and where it should go.  I know it’s icy outside, but you never know what you might find to end the winter doldrums like the hardy cyclamen (pictured above), which I discovered during my own chilly inventory.

Snowdrops and winter aconite on Winterthur’s March Bank, photo courtesy of Winterthur

If you need ideas, visit local arboretums and gardens.  I always find a trip to Winterthur, an elegant and intimate public garden in Delaware, highly inspirational and informative.  Starting March 1 when Winterthur opens for spring, the area of the gardens known as the March Bank erupts into bloom with tens of thousands of snowdrops, adonis, winter aconite, snow crocus, early scillas, glory-of-the-snow, spring snowflake, and early daffodils.

Snowdrops and winter aconite on Winterthur’s March Bank in early March, photo courtesy of Winterthur

Later in March, glory-of-the-snow, Chionodoxa, takes over, photo courtesy of Winterthur

Today is Garden Blogger’s Bloom Day for February when gardeners around the world show photos of what’s blooming in their gardens (follow the link to see  photographs from other garden bloggers assembled by Carol at May Dreams Gardens).  Here are a few more highlights from my mid-February stroll through Carolyn’s Shade Gardens:

Very early-blooming double white hellebore, Helleborus x hybridus ‘Mrs. Betty Ranicar’

Bearsfoot hellebore, Helleborus foetidus, was waiting under the ice

Sweetbox, Sarcococca hookeriena var. humilis, prepares to perfume the garden

‘Jacob’ Christmas rose, Helleborus niger ‘Jacob’, began blooming in October and has waited patiently under the snow and ice for a chance to show its flowers again

The lowly Japanese pachysandra, P. terminalis, forms its flowers the previous season adding winter interest to its evergreen leaves

The flower buds of hybrid hellebores, Helleborus x hybridus, wait for the hard-packed snow to melt, in warmer years they would be in bloom now

Some hybrid hellebores are farther along than others

Giant snowdrop, Galanthus elwesii, was the first flower through the snow in 2011 (see Are Snowdrops Thermogenic?) and was also blooming in December

With our near record-breaking snowfall accompanied by generous doses of ice (see The Joys and Sorrows of Snow), I wasn’t planning on participating in February’s Garden Blogger’s Bloom Day.  But when I grabbed my camera and walked around, there was much to be seen.   In addition to the flowers, there was more than enough views of the destruction of the winter by nature and otherwise.

Remnants of the white pine and coral bark maple branches lost this winter

The signs marking my epimedium collection after the ravages of my three snowboarding teenage sons.

Please let me know in a comment/reply what flowers are blooming in your winter garden.  If you participated in GBBD, please provide a link so my nursery customers can read your post.

Carolyn


Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

Nursery Happenings: I am currently accepting orders for snowdrops, including  mail orders.  For the catalogue and order information, click here.  I am also taking reservations for Charles Cresson’s Snowdrops and Other Winter Interest Plants Seminar.  For the brochure and registration information, click here.

80 Comments »

Are Snowdrops Thermogenic?

Posted in bulbs for shade, snowdrops, winter with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 9, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops to the US only.  For catalogues and announcements of local events, please send your full name, mailing address, and cell number to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com and indicate whether you are mail order only.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

Galanthus ‘Dionysus’, a Greatorex double

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Our current snowdrop catalogue is on line here.

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Snowdrops are some of the earliest blooming flowers in my garden, often popping up through the snow, hence their name.  We all love them for that, but how do they do it?  I have been told several times that they are thermogenic, that is,  that they produce their own heat, and decided to do some scientific research to find out (it can’t all be about pretty photos).

Common snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis, and “spring-blooming” hardy cyclamen ‘Rose’, Cyclamen coum ‘Rose’, in my rock garden

Over 200 years ago, French biologist, Jean-Baptiste de Lamarck, noticed that some flowers produce their own heat.  Since then, scientists have confirmed that some plants can, in fact, generate their own heat, a process known as thermogenesis, previously thought to be limited to mammals, birds, and some flying insects.  These plants are “warm-blooded”.

Holes in the snow produced by eastern skunk cabbage, Symplocarpus foetidus, performing thermogenesis, photo Robert Klips

The poster child for thermogenesis is the eastern skunk cabbage, Symplocarpus foetidus, which is native to most of eastern North America.  Its flower, pictured below (courtesy of Robert Klips, Ohioense: Bob’s Brain on Botany, March 8, 2010), heats up to melt the snow producing little circles all over the woods in late winter.  It does this primarily to generate and disperse its floral scent to attract pollinators.  In this case, the scent is rotten meat and the pollinators are flies and beetles.  Secondarily, it rewards the insects by providing them with energy directly as heat rather than indirectly as nectar and pollen.

Eastern skunk cabbage blooming through the snow, photo Robert Klips

This is no small feat.  Skunk cabbage flowers can heat up to 59 degrees F (15 degrees C) when the ambient temperature is 5 degrees F (-15 degrees C).  They can also thermoregulate, adjust their temperature, to maintain a constant setting as the ambient temperature changes.  If the outside temperature gets too low, they will switch off their heat entirely until things warm up.  They also switch off the heat once they have been pollinated.

Eastern skunk cabbage peeking out of its snow cave, photo Robert Klips

To perform thermogenesis, skunk cabbage uses as much metabolic energy as a small rodent or a hummingbird and employs a unique respiratory process, which is more similar to animal metabolism than plant metabolism though biochemical rather than nervous system based.   The exact nature of this process is unknown.  For those of you with a scientific bent, I have included a graph below taken from  a scholarly treatise on the subject, Temperature Regulation by Thermogenic Flowers (Plant Physiology Online, Sept. 2006).

Graph of oxygen consumption and heat production by skunk cabbage in various ambient temperatures

But, now that you understand thermogenesis, back to the question at hand: are snowdrops thermogenic?  The short answer is I don’t know.  Various sources say that they are, but the statements seem to be based on hearsay.  I could find no scientific studies backing them up.  I posted the question on the Pacific Bulb Society forum, the Scottish Rock Garden Club forum, and to friends at Longwood Gardens, and no one could confirm that snowdrops are thermogenic.  So I present my own “scientific study” of the process.

February 21, 2010, at Carolyn’s Shade Gardens, three tiny islands are appearing in the snow

As you know from my previous post, The Joys and Sorrows of Snow, we had record snowfall during the winter of 2009-2010.  By February, my whole garden was covered by a deep, thick, hard layer of snow.  Looking out on the landscape in the photo above, there was absolutely no melting going on except in three small areas.  What is happening in those little circles?  Let’s look closer:

Giant snowdrop, Galanthus elwesii, melting through the snow

 

And even closer:

Giant snowdrop blooming in February after melting through the snow pack

My observations prove nothing scientific, but they do indicate that something is going on.  And I like to think that one of my favorite plants, snowdrops, which inspire such intense interest in many gardeners, also produce their own internal excitement.

For my previous articles on snowdrops, click here and here.

 

Please let me know in a comment/reply if you have any knowledge or personal experience with snowdrops being thermogenic.

Carolyn

 

Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), click here.

 

98 Comments »

The Joys and Sorrows of Snow

Posted in garden essay, Gardening Gone Wild Photo Contest, winter with tags , , , , on February 3, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

My office, an historic carriage house, in winter

I love snow.  I am not sure that my garden is ever more beautiful than with a dusting of snow highlighting every branch and stem.  And to me there is really nothing uglier, in the garden anyway, than snowless frozen soil or mulch surrounded by the fences and houses that I can’t see when the leaves are on.

Snow on the branches of my 150-year-old London plane trees

My “signature” bird house in winter

Ice is very beautiful too (I can hear the groans, but if you can ignore the sounds of branches breaking and just stare at the ice, it is lovely.  On second thought, maybe you should only view ice from inside the house.)

My upright coral bark maple, Acer palmatum ‘Sango-kaku’: more vertical Japanese maples fare better in  snow and ice than weeping forms

White pine, Pinus strobus, is not suitable for ornamental landscapes as explained below

Winterberry holly, Ilex verticillata ‘Red Sprite’, looks beautiful encased in ice

Here in southeastern Pennsylvania, we had record snowfall during the winter of 2009-2010 with 70 inches.  The previous record was 1995-1996 with 66 inches, but over three feet came in one blizzard so there wasn’t consistent cover.  Before that you have to go back to 1898-1899 with 55″ inches.

My house, Wayside Cottage, the old estate gardener’s dwelling.

As the snow melts and temperatures warm, we get fog

During 2009-2010, the ground was covered with snow almost the whole winter, which hasn’t happened in quite a while here.  Snow cover is very important for plants, especially when the temperatures dip down into the single digits.  We are in USDA hardiness zone 6b with an average annual minimum temperature of 0 to -5 degrees F (-18 to -21 degrees C).  Snow insulates plant roots and keeps them at an even temperature, preventing the freezing and thawing that heaves them out of the ground.  Snow also provides much needed moisture over the winter and especially in the spring as it melts slowly and waters the emerging perennials.

My clump of yellow trillium doubled in size after a snowy winter

Cobra lily, Arisaema urashima, reached new heights

When my perennials came up in the spring of 2010 after the snowy winter, they were spectacular.  Struggling plants were suddenly big and glorious.  Newly planted areas looked well established.  Patches of slow growing woodland ephemerals doubled and tripled in size.  Asian jack-in-the-pulpits that hadn’t come up in years burst out of the ground and were twice their normal height.  I had given them up for dead.  Seeds of rare plants germinated and thrived in my woodland unaided.  I suddenly had a small hillside of the snow white jack-in-the-pulpit Arisaema sikokianum.  Trilliums, dogtooth-violets (Erythronium), and fumewort (Corydalis solida) proliferated in new combinations and colors.  The snow was very good to my perennials.

Serendipitous shades of self-sown fumewort, Corydalis solida

A new color form of dogtooth-violet, Erythronium, appeared in my woodland

I wish I could say the same for my shrubs and trees.  My very well established winter daphnes, Daphne odora, and my February daphne, Daphne mezereum, were bent to the ground by snow and falling limbs.  Although I righted them, they all suddenly wilted and died in the spring.  I think once the roots are damaged or disturbed, they are not resistant to pathogens and quickly succumb.  That may be the origin of what is known as sudden-daphne-dieback.

Damaged weeping Japanese maple, Acer palmatum dissectum: upright forms of Japanese maple fared better, they just bent to the ground and sprang back up

Voles, protected from my cats by the snow, ate my rare tree peony purchased from the old Heronswood many years ago.  I also lost my Chinese redbud, Cercis chinensis, both my white and my gold variegated Kousa dowoods, Cornus kousa ‘Wolf’s Eye’ and ‘Sunsplash’, my yellow rugosa rose, Rosa rugosa ‘Topaz Jewel’, and an old native rhododendron that came with the property in 1983.  My woody plants did not like the snow.

Split native ‘Forest Pansy’ redbud, Cercis canadensis ‘Forest Pansy’: it should probably be grown as a single trunk

You may be saying, wow she really should be growing native trees and shrubs, and she wouldn’t be having all these problems, but you would be wrong.  The winter of 2010-2011 is gearing up to exceed last year in snowfall with 50 inches already and more storms in the forecast.  During last week’s 18 inch storm, which included sleet, I lost a large specimen ‘Forest Pansy’ redbud, Cercis canadensis ‘Forest Pansy’ (photo above), an old flowering dogwood, Cornus florida, a red spruce, Picea rubens (photo below),  and a lot of my large white pine, Pinus strobus (photo below), all native plants.  Apple trees, a very old specimen weeping Japanese maple, Acer palmatum dissectum (photo above), and my Chinese wax shrub, Sinoclaycanthus chinensis, were also severely damaged.  Last night’s ice storm is only adding to the wreckage.

My red pine, Picea rubens, just snapped off

Branches rained down from my white pine, Pinus strobus: white pine is not a good tree for ornamental landscapes because it sheds its lower branches freely, damaging the understory plants

Once I would have mourned the loss of my prize plants.  Now I choose to be more philosophical, learn the lessons inherent in the process (which I have tried to pass on above), and look forward to what new miracles my perennials will present to me this spring—my jack-in-the-pulpits have already risen from the dead.  The glass will be determinedly half full.  As my good friend Kim remarked when I told her about the specimen redbud’s demise: “Think of the opportunities it has opened up for you in the garden!”  I don’t think I can go that far.  I intend to plant another redbud in the exact same spot.

Please tell me in a comment/reply what lessons you have learned from snowy winters.

Carolyn

Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

Nursery Happenings: I am currently accepting orders for snowdrops, including  mail orders.  For the catalogue and order information, click here.  I am also taking reservations for Charles Cresson’s Snowdrops and Other Winter Interest Plants Seminar.  For the brochure and registration information, click here.

78 Comments »

An Ode to Seed Strain Hellebores

Posted in hellebores, Shade Perennials with tags , on January 28, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

Plant breeders have been hard at work for years trying to get hybrid hellebores (Helleborus x hybridus) to submit to tissue culture.  For a long time the hellebores were winning, and I was quietly cheering from the sidelines.  But it seems even the mighty hybrid hellebore, the toughest plant I know, was not a match for modern technology.  You can now purchase tissue cultured hellebores that all look the same.  But my question is: why would you want to?

You have to realize that I am a person who treasures diversity even with its inherent risks of dissatisfaction and unpredictability.  I still shop at my local hardware store with its wood floors and oily smells.  I have a tab, the people there know me, the people there know hardware.  They might not have what I want—I can take that risk.  You couldn’t get me to go to a Home Depot if my life depended on it.

When I travel, I try to stay at a local B&B.  I introduce myself to the owners, I appreciate their eclectic decorating schemes, I eat their funky breakfasts.  They know the local area, they have eaten in the restaurants, they can give directions.  I stayed at a chain recently where the very nice desk clerk was not aware that there was a gas station two doors down.

So I am a person who doesn’t treasure predictability, as in sameness, the way most people seem to.

When it comes to hybrid hellebores, I don’t understand the most common concern expressed by gardeners: if the hellbore is grown from seed you can’t be 100% sure what the flowers will look like unless it’s in bloom.  There is an element of risk involved in the purchase.  Tissue culture of hellebores was developed to eliminate this unacceptable risk.

But to me that is the magic of hybrid hellebores: each plant is a unique individual, with the potential for inheriting genetic material from any of the possible 9 or more species that could be its parents.  It’s like having a baby, you don’t know and you can’t control who he or she will be because that is determined by generations of intertwining DNA.  I am assuming that even in the predictability driven US, where we invented the almighty chain store, we still would rather roll the dice than clone the cute little baby next door.  I could be mistaken.

Don’t get me wrong, the poster child for tissue-cultured hybrid hellebores ‘Kingston Cardinal’ with its large double raspberry flowers is gorgeous.  I would grow it.  But here is its main marketing mantra: Tissue cultured so every plant is identical.  Every one on your block can have the exact same plant right next to their ‘Autumn Joy’ sedum and ‘Goldsturm’ rudbeckia.   I like ‘Autumn Joy’ and ‘Goldsturm’ (I have them in my garden), but hybrid hellebores offer so much more than that: the diversity of life in a beautiful flower.  And tissue culture has the potential to destroy that magic just like we are losing the genetic magnificence of apples, and chickens, and tomatoes.

Here is my ode to seed strain hybrid hellebores:

photo Carol Lim

photo Carol Lim

photo Carol Lim

Please let me know in a comment which hellebore is your favorite.

Carolyn

This is part of a series of articles on hellebores, one of the specialties of my nursery.  Here are links to the other articles:

Part One        Hellebores for Fall

Part Two       An Ode to Seed Strain Hellebores

Part Three   Christmas Rose: The Perfect Hellebore

Part Four      Dividing Hybrid Hellebores

Part Five       The Sex Lives of Hellebores

Part Six          Double Hellebores

Part Seven   Cutting Back Hellebores

Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

In my post I Need Your Help, I asked readers to send cards to the daughter of Kartik who was the subject of my post New Year’s Resolution to Edit the Garden.  I would still appreciate your help with this appeal.  Tara is home from the hospital, which is good news, but being confined to home and suffering daily intrusive medical procedures has left her lonely and depressed.  The cards she has received from all of you are a major bright spot in her day, and your good wishes and prayers are an inspiration to Kartik.  If you still wish to mail a card, they would love to receive it (Tara Patel, 2216 Oakwyn Road, Lafayette Hill, PA  19444, USA).  Thanks.

The view from here:


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Snowdrops: Further Confessions of a Galanthophile

Posted in bulbs for shade, New Plants, snowdrops with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 22, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops to the US only.  For catalogues and announcements of local events, please send your full name, mailing address, and cell number to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com and indicate whether you are mail order only.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

Galanthus ‘Atkinsii’ described in Snowdrops as having “elegant elongated flowers that suggest the drop-pearl earrings of Elizabeth I,”  I can’t improve on that

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Our current snowdrop catalogue is on line here.

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This article includes photographs and colorful descriptions of the 15 snowdrops I am offering for sale in my 2011 Snowdrop Catalogue.

 

In my garden, I have many forms of Galanthus elwesii, which was named for Henry John Elwes (1846-1922), described as a “true energetic Victorian” combing the world for big game, fine trees, insects, birds, and snowdrops

 

In my article Snowdrops or the Confessions of a Galanthophile, I revealed that I am obsessed with snowdrops.  I described my evolution from a gardener growing a few distinct varieties to a galanthophile collecting every cultivated snowdrop I could get my hands on.  I explained that I could now see the often subtle differences between flowers that others might unknowingly (shall we say ignorantly) dismiss as ridiculous.  To understand how far I have gone down this road, know that I recently found myself describing a snowdrop as having “a bold inner marking with a basal blotch narrowly joined to an apical round-armed V.”  There is no turning back.

 

Galanthus nivalis ‘Flore Pleno’, probably the oldest snowdrop cultivar  in existence with records as early as 1703

 

But I didn’t talk about one of the things I find most fascinating about snowdrops.  They are the only plant that I would purchase as much for their colorful history as for their ornamental characteristics.  And how do I find out about their captivating  lineage: I consult Snowdrops: A Monograph of Cultivated Galanthus by Matt Bishop, Aaron Davis, and John Grimshaw (Griffin Press 2006).  This book, always referred to as the snowdrop bible, has all the information anyone could want about the 500 “commonly” cultivated snowdrops.

 

The Greatorex Double, Galanthus ‘Ophelia’

After reading Snowdrops, who would not want Galanthus ‘Ophelia’, a beautiful double snowdrop, when it was originated by Heyrick Greatorex of Brundall, Norfolk, England, a man who lived “an unconventional lifestyle” in a wooden garden shed that might have been a railway carriage?  Or a snowdrop like Galanthus ‘Magnet’ that has reached its centenary [a word not used commonly in the US so I had to look it up] and was probably named for “the old-fashioned child’s game in which magnets are attached to miniature fishing rods for the purpose of picking up painted metal fish, the point being to win the game by catching the most?”  I played that game.

 

Galanthus ‘Magnet’, can you can see the miniature fishing rod?

Galanthus ‘Straffan’, Baron Clarina of Ireland’s souvenir of the Crimean War

Who can resist the indestructible Galanthus ‘Straffan’, the third oldest snowdrop cultivar still in existence, discovered in the later 1800s by the head gardener for Straffan House in County Kildare, Ireland, in a clump of G. plicatus brought back from the Crimean War by the owner, the fourth Baron Clarina?  Or October-flowering Galanthus reginae-olgae, named in 1876 in honor of Queen Olga of Greece, the grandmother of  the current Duke of Edinburgh?  [In the US, we would say grandmother of Prince Philip, Queen Elizabeth’s husband.]

 

The October-flowering Galanthus reginae-olgae, named for Prince Philip’s grandmother, photo Charles Cresson

Galanthus nivalis/Common SnowdropGalanthus nivalis, the common snowdrop, has a 500-year lineage to brag about

 

Even the plain old common snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis, an imminently garden-worthy plant, has been cultivated as an ornamental in England since the 16th century.  There are written records.  The species snowdrop, Galanthus woronowii, was collected on the eastern shores of the Black Sea and named by a Russian botanist for Russian plant collector Georg Jurii Nikolaewitch Woronow (1874-1931).

The shiny green leaves of Galanthus woronowii named for plant collector Georg Jurii Nikolaewitch Woronow, photo Charles Cresson

 

Galanthus ‘Blewbury Tart’ found by Alan Street in Blewbury, Oxfordshire, England

Even more modern snowdrops have name-dropping heritages.  Snowdrops tells us that when noted horticulturist Alan Street of the well known English bulb house, Avon Bulbs, and the discoverer of Galanthus ‘Blewbury Tart’, gave three bulbs instead of one to quirky English gardener, Primrose Warburg (1920-1996), she “characteristically complained” and called it ‘Blewbury Muffin’.  This is the same Primrose Warburg who we are told cautioned visitors navigating her treacherous garden slope to be careful, not because they might hurt themselves, but because the snowdrops were irreplaceable. Galanthus ‘Beth Chatto’ was, of course, discovered in the gardens of the internationally famous gardener and writer, Beth Chatto, OBE [Order of the British Empire].

 

Galanthus ‘Beth Chatto’ from the internationally famous Beth Chatto Gardens

 

Snowdrops describes Galanthus ‘S. Arnott’ as the “classic snowdrop….a first-class garden plant with an unquestionable constitution, admired by everyone,” photo Charles Cresson

Other cultivars have discussions of their origins so complicated as to rival the US Tax Code, something I am familiar with from my former career. Galanthus ‘S. Arnott’ is in danger of losing its name to ‘Arnott’s Seedling’, the name under which it was given the Royal Horticultural Society’s Award of Garden Merit, but a name deemed unsuitable because E.A. Bowles, “one of the most revered plantsman of all times,” later called it ‘S. Arnott’.  The  International Cultivar Registration Society in the Netherlands has been so advised. Galanthus nivalis ‘Viridapice’ has evidently had many imitators since it was discovered prior to 1922 near an old farmhouse in northern Holland, and confusion is rampant.

 

Galanthus nivalis ‘Viridapice’, hopefully not an impostor

Please do not think I am in any way making fun of this book.  I love it, and I wish all plant genera had books this information-packed and well written dedicated to them.  I list Snowdrops on my Blotanical profile as the garden book I am currently reading because I am always reading it.  Rumor has it that a new edition is in the works (for an update from John Grimshaw, click here), and I will buy it.  If you like snowdrops, you should own it too.

Well, based on the tales found in the snowdrop bible, what cultivars are in my future?  I am intrigued by ‘Lady Beatrix Stanley’, a vigorous double, whose namesake (1877-1944) struggled to create an English garden in India when her husband was Governor of Madras.  I have my eye on ‘Merlin’ with its solid green blotch, whose stock was maintained by Amy Doncaster (1894-1995), “a greatly admired, no-nonsense plantswoman” who collected my favorite plants, snowdrops, hellebores and epimediums, in her woodland garden.  Finally, I would like to grow ‘Primrose Warburg’, a rare yellow snowdrop, because I think I might be just like her when I grow up.

Galanthus ‘Merlin’ whose stock was maintained by no-nonsense plantswoman Amy Doncaster

 

Carolyn

Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), click here.

The view from my office this morning:

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New Native Shade Perennials for 2011

Posted in native plants, New Plants on January 18, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

Sweet Wakerobin, Trillium vaseyi: I saw this trillium last spring in a local garden and fell in love with its large red flowers and huge bright green leaves; native species to just south of PA (photo Arrowhead Alpines).

In my previous article, New Shade Perennials for 2011, I highlighted some of the new non-native plants I will be offering at my nursery this year.  I also described my blog’s two audiences and my philosophy about what plants I grow in my gardens and sell at my nursery.

This article features some of the 17 native plants that are new (or returning) to my Spring 2011 Catalogue.  For a full description of the ornamental and cultural characteristics of these plants, please consult my Spring 2011 Catalogue by clicking here or going to the sidebar of my homepage where it is permanently posted in more manageable chunks.  For an illuminating (I think) discussion of why growing native plants is crucial to our survival, please read my article My Thanksgiving Oak Forest in which I profile Doug Tallamy’s book Bringing Nature Home.


Rue-anemone, Anemonella thalictroides: an elegant wildflower that naturalizes in my dry woodland, I also grow single and double pink forms; native species to PA (photo Arrowhead Alpines)

I am reluctant to enter the “what is a native plant” fray,  but I feel I have to if I am going to use the word native to describe these plants.  For the purposes of my catalogue, I treat all plants indigenous to the US and cultivars of and hybrids between those plants as native, always adding a comment on what part of the US the plant inhabits.  Most of my natives are endemic to Pennsylvania and its immediate environs.  However, many horticulturalists don’t consider cultivars and hybrids of native plants to be native.

To try and address that issue, I went right to the horse’s mouth and asked Doug Tallamy, author of Bringing Nature Home and Chairman of the Entomology and Wildlife Ecology Department at the University of Delaware, where he stood on native cultivars and hybrids.

Prairie Trillium, Trillium recurvatum: native species to PA (Prairie?) and I think the easiest trillium to grow (photo Arrowhead Alpines).

In responding, Tallamy first pointed out that: “We know very little from experimental data [because] comparisons just haven’t been done yet” between the ecological value of native plants and the value of their cultivars and hybrids.  “Insects have adapted to the chemistry of their host plants, so if we don’t change the leaf chemicals too much when making cultivars, most of the insects that use the native parent should be able to continue using the cultivar.”

However, Tallamy cautions: “Most of our cultivars focus on flowers, … and flower energy budgets are very tight.  If we make flower petals larger, that may come at the expense of nectar production…or pollen production. Pollinators will visit the new flower but get no reward.  Double flowers typically have no nectar production at all….  A big down side of cultivars, even if they do support insects, is that they are clones with no genetic variation.”

Large-flowered Bellwort, Uvularia grandiflora:  it is really the full habit of this plant that grabs you in the garden with its many twisting flowers and leaves on upright stems; native species to PA (photo Arrowhead Alpines).

So how do I apply this to my new native plants?  Well, of the 12 plants  featured in this article, six are straight species native to Pennsylvania and its environs (see commentary under photos).  These plants satisfy even the most narrow definition of native.  The fern is a native hybrid that occurs naturally in the wild and should be as good as any straight species.  The same can be said for the yellow columbine, which is a naturally occurring color variation.  The double bloodroot, although double-flowered, was discovered and not created by humans.  None of these are clones; they are all seed strains ensuring genetic diversity and vigor.

That leaves only the three heucheras described below.  If your goal is to support native insects and through them the whole ecosystem, then purple-leaved heucheras like  ‘Midnight Rose’ are not the plant for you.  Tallamy says, “if [when creating a cultivar] we change a green leaf to a purple leaf, we are loading the leaf with anthocyanins, which are feeding deterrents for insects.”  The same may be true of gold-leafed heucheras like ‘Electra’.  Those two cultivars have also been created through extensive hybridizing of several heuchera species native to the US.  ‘Green Spice’, however,  is a cultivar of a species native to Pennsylvania and probably has leaf chemistry close to its parent and thus beneficial to native insects.

Wild Columbine, Aquilegia canadensis ‘Corbett’: pale yellow and shorter alternative to the bright red species and, like the species, does best in the well-drained but moist soil so difficult to find in my garden; naturally occurring color variation native to PA.

Where do I come out on all this?  I really care about this issue so I try to have the majority of my property planted with straight PA native species friendly to native insects.  I also think any plant with a native background even if it’s a “created” cultivar or hybrid is better than a non-native for supporting  our environment.  But I specialize in  non-native hellebores and snowdrops, and I have hundreds of them in my garden.  Balance in all things, including the garden.

Here are the rest of the new native plants I am excited about:


Dixie Wood Fern, Dryopteris x australis: a naturally occurring hybrid native to just south of PA, the fern growing behind and through my bench in the deep, dry shade of a Japanese maple overhung by a white pine is Dixie Wood Fern on 11/11/10—need I say more?

Indian Pink, Spigelia marilandica:  there is no better way to get me going than to write yet one more shade gardening article that starts “Now you may not be able to have showy flowers in the shade, but….” ; native species to PA (photo Arrowhead Alpines)

Double Bloodroot, Sanguinaria canadensis ‘Multiplex’: naturally occurring double flower native to PA, this is my all time favorite flower—I could stare at its perfection for hours—so it has taken me years to get to the point where I felt I had excess to sell!

Bloodroot, Sanguinaria canadensis: so much to love, the way it spears through my leaf mulch, the unusual blue-green leaves, the pure white flowers, and, believe it or not, the short time they last in the garden—it forces me to savor them; species native to PA.

Who can resist the kaleidoscope of colors that heuchera leaves add to the garden and containers?  If only all these beautiful plants thrived equally well in our tough mid-Atlantic conditions, but they don’t.  I only sell the cultivars whose parents are the heat and cold tolerant heucheras native to the eastern US.  Here are three new tough heucheras for 2011:


Coral Bells, Heuchera x ‘Electra’: cultivar parented by two tough species native to PA and one Pacific Northwest species; with leaves and veins like this, who can resist? (photo Terra Nova Nurseries).

Coral Bells, Heuchera americana ‘Green Spice’: straight species cultivar created from our PA native so imminently suited to mid-Atlantic conditions, pumpkin orange fall color (photo Terra Nova Nurseries).

Coral Bells, Heuchera x ‘Midnight Rose’: cultivar parented by two tough species native to PA and one Pacific Northwest species; yes, it really looks like this  and is a wonderful plant for containers, but requires a little more coddling in the ground because the Pacific Northwest species is more dominant in this cultivar (photo Terra Nova Nurseries).

In addition to the above and what was covered in New Shade Perennials for 2011, I have new snowdrops, hellebores, and hostas, which will be covered in future articles on those topics.

Carolyn

Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

The view from my desk this morning:


61 Comments »

New Shade Perennials for 2011

Posted in New Plants on January 12, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

Cyclamen coum 'Pewter Leaf' photo Arrowhead AlpinesSpring-blooming Hardy Cyclamen, Cyclamen coum ‘Pewter Leaf’: grows and spreads well in my shady rock garden where it gets the excellent drainage it needs; can’t beat the solid silver leaves paired with the pink flowers (photo Arrowhead Alpines).

My blog has two audiences, one anticipated and one unexpected.  The first is composed of the wonderful, loyal customers of my shade plant nursery, Carolyn’s Shade Gardens, over 340 of whom subscribe to my blog.  My primary goal in starting the blog was to communicate more information to interested customers in a garden magazine-type format without sending emails to customers who weren’t interested.


Japanese Painted Fern, Athyrium niponicum ‘Burgundy Lace’: I love the colors of Japanese painted fern and they can only be improved with more purple; naturalizes in dry shade in my gardens (photo Terra Nova Nurseries).


My second group of readers is the garden-blogging community, an audience I never anticipated  when I started this project.  Nan at Hayefield told me to register my blog with Blotanical, the international garden-blogging registry.  I did, and now I have readers all over the world.  Blotanical is a great site to visit if you like to read about gardening, and you don’t need to have a blog to access it.  Several of my customers have joined Blotanical and enjoy reading the popular articles posted there.  It is also a very warm and friendly virtual community of gardeners.


Helleborus x nigercors ‘Green Corsican’: a superior cross between Christmas rose and Corsican hellebore with many beautiful green flowers and gold-marbled leaves (just a taste, I will cover all my new hellebores in a separate article).


It is the time of year when I send out my new catalogue describing all the plants I will be selling at my nursery this spring.  I have already emailed it to my customers and posted it in Pages on my sidebar here.  It describes over 300 varieties of shade plants, including almost 80 hard-to-find natives and 60 plants that are new this spring.


Silver Lungwort, Pulmonaria ‘Silver Bouquet’: I collect pulmonarias (especially the silver cultivars) for their early flowers and striking wintergreen leaves (photo Terra Nova Nurseries).


Although I don’t do mail order (except for snowdrops), I still put together a catalogue for my customers to use as a reference when shopping at the nursery and planning or planting at home.  This came about because I find that plastic plant tags and most general gardening books are about equally inaccurate in their descriptions of the characteristics and  cultural requirements of shade plants.


White Checkered Lily, Fritillaria meleagris ‘Alba’: unlike most fritillarias, checkered lily is easy to grow and takes shade, it has naturalized throughout my woodland gardens; I love the purple and the white forms.


My catalogue has never included photos, but this year I want to show pictures on my blog with additional commentary for some of the new plants about which I am especially excited.  Complete descriptions and cultural information are in the 2011 catalogue.  Be forewarned  though, you are not about to see the glitzy new cultivars hot off the patent-laden presses of hot  shot plant hybridizers (in fact, you will probably never find most of them at my nursery).


‘Black Scallop’ Bugleweed, Ajuga reptans ‘Black Scallop’:  I usually don’t get excited about ajuga or sell it at my nursery, but ‘Black Scallop’ is exceptionally beautiful and has remained so, photo taken on 11/29/10


With a few exceptions, I don’t offer a plant for sale unless I have grown it successfully in my own gardens for a few years.  That eliminates all those perennials that look great in pots but are miserable failures in the ground or really any plant that requires even a modest amount of pampering to succeed.  I don’t believe in growing or selling those kinds of plants.  So, on with the 2011 show!


Double Snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis ‘Blewbury Tart’: if you have been reading this blog, you know I love snowdrops, and this one is quite special! (just a taste, I will cover all my new snowdrops in a separate article).

Fairy Wings, Epimedium grandiflorum ‘Lilafee’:  I have a large epimedium collection and ‘Lilafee’ is one of my favorites for flowers and fall color (photo Arrowhead Alpines).

Fairy Wings, Epimedium x warleyense: this is another one of the favorites in my collection, the orange flowers are magical in the dry, full shade in which epimediums thrive (photo Arrowhead Alpines).


Japanese Woodland Primrose, Primula sieboldii: foolproof primrose for dry, full shade, treasured in Japan with over 500 cultivars named, but rare in the US; I have been selling several named cultivars but this year I will include divisions from my own collection of unnamed varieties.


Gold Siberian Bugloss, Brunnera macrophylla ‘Diane’s Gold’: I haven’t grown this cultivar but all my other brunneras thrive in my dry woodland, and you can’t beat this gold color (photo Terra Nova Nurseries).


Crocus 'Ruby Giant'Snow Crocus, Crocus tommasinianus ‘Ruby Giant’:  I have always valued this very early-blooming species, which naturalizes in my garden, but ‘Ruby Giant’ has knock-your-socks-off deep violet-purple color (photo Charles Cresson).


Spring Vetchling, Lathyrus vernus: I am a sucker for all flowers in the pea family, and if they grow in full, dry shade, I’m sold; I grow four varieties of spring vetchling and love them all.


Japanese Forest Grass, Hakonechloa macra ‘Stripe It Rich’: a new cultivar of this tried and true grass for shade with gold leaves and white stripes; I treasure its lovely cascading habit (photo Terra Nova Nurseries).


Dogtooth-violet, Erythronium dens-canis: a beautiful and easy dogtooth-violet that self-sows in my dry woodland.


Part 2 of this article will showcase the new native plants I will be offering in spring 2011, and new snowdrops, hellebores, and hostas will be covered in their own dedicated articles.

Carolyn

Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information.  If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

In my post I Need Your Help, I asked readers to send cards to the daughter of Kartik who was the subject of my post New Year’s Resolution to Edit the Garden.  I would still appreciate your help with this appeal.  Thanks.


The view from my desk this morning

63 Comments »

I Dream in Latin

Posted in garden essay with tags , on January 7, 2011 by Carolyn @ Carolyns Shade Gardens

Carolyn’s Shade Gardens is a retail nursery located in Bryn Mawr, PA, specializing in showy, colorful, and unusual plants for shade.  The only plants that we ship are snowdrops and miniature hostas.  For catalogues and announcements of events, please send your full name, location, and phone number (for back up use only) to carolyn@carolynsshadegardens.com.  Click here to get to the home page of our website for catalogues and information about our nursery and to subscribe to our blog.

Arum italicum 'Tiny Tot'Arum italicum ‘Tiny Tot’ AKA Lords-and-Ladies, Cuckoo’s Pint, Willy Lily, or Aaron’s Pen

You may have heard that Latin is a dead language.  To paraphrase Mark Twain, the rumor of its death is greatly exaggerated.  Latin is the language that professional horticulturists use to talk about plants, study plants, acquire plants, and dream about plants.  When I talk about a plant using the common name, I am translating from the Latin text in my brain.  Why is this?  Is this some kind of nasty horticultural snobbery?  Are we trying to exclude all the “common folk” and preserve our elite status?

The short answer is a resounding NO.  But here is the explanation.

First of all, thanks to Linnaeus, Latin-based botanical plant names are used worldwide.  The botanical name for Arum italicum is Arum italicum in the US, China, Belgium, Nigeria, Chile, and in Micronesia if they grow it there.  If I were to visit a country where I didn’t speak the language, I could still talk about plants with the local horticulturists and visit labeled arboretums because we all use the same botanical names.  Now that’s cool.

[I just experienced this first hand when I watched a video on snowdrops narrated completely in Dutch, which I don’t understand.  But when the narrator said each snowdrop’s botanical name, I understood him perfectly.]

Spanish bluebells at Carolyn's Shade GardensScilla campanulata ‘Excelsior’ AKA Spanish bluebells

But why do we have to use botanical names at home in the US where, according to us at least, we all speak English. Because when I want a Geranium, I want a hardy geranium not a Pelargonium, the annual.  When a customer asks for bluebells, does he want Mertensia virginica, often called Virginia bluebells, or Scilla campanulata, Spanish bluebells, or Campanula rotundifolia, Scottish bluebells, or Wahlenbergia gloriosa, Australian royal bluebells, or Eustoma russellianim, Texas bluebells, or Hyacinthoides non-scripta, English bluebells, or maybe Phacelia campanularia, desert bluebells.  All these “bluebells” are not even closely related—they all represent a different genus—and yet they are all called bluebells, presumably because they have a blue bell-shaped flower.  You can see how confusing this can get, and it happens all the time at my nursery.

Then there are the plants that have different common names in different parts of the country or the world.  In the mid-Atlantic where I was born, we call Narcissus daffodils.  But in the Midwest, where my husband grew up, they call them jonquils.  I honestly had no idea what plant my mother-in-law was talking about when she mentioned her beautiful jonquils.

Epimedium x versicolor ‘Sulphureum’ AKA barrenwort, bishop’s hat, fairy wings, horny goat weed, rowdy lamb herb

Or plants that have more than one common name.  Epimediums, an imminently pronounceable and spellable botanical name, bear the common names barrenwort, bishop’s hat, fairy wings, horny goat weed, and rowdy lamb herb.  Barrenwort because people thought they helped women conceive; bishop’s hats for the shape of the flowers; fairy wings for the leaf structure; and your guess is as good as mine for the last two.  If a customer came to my nursery and asked for horny goat weed, I would have no idea what she wanted (or maybe I wouldn’t want to know).

Or plants that share a common name.  In the western US, Indian paintbrush is the wildflower Castilleja linariaefolia.  But in New England, it is the wildflower Hieracium aurantiacum, also know as orange hawkweed.

summer snowflake at Carolyn's Shade GardensLecojum aestivum AKA summer snowflake

But the most important reason I think about plants in Latin is because common names are always getting me in trouble.  For example,

Gardener:  “I am really disappointed in the summer snowflake I bought last year, it blooms in spring.”  Me: “My catalogue says it blooms in spring.”  Gardener: “Then why do you call it summer snowflake?”

Gardener: “I am not buying that hellebore even though you say it’s your favorite.”  Me: “Why [I’m a glutton for punishment]?”  Gardener: “It smells bad.”  Me: “But it doesn’t smell.”  Gardener: “Then why do you call it stinking hellebore?”  I finally adopted an alternate common name, bearsfoot hellebore, to avoid future conversations like that.

And my favorite:  Gardener: “I didn’t like the iris I bought last year, when it bloomed the flowers were purple.”  Me: “You are right the flowers are purple.”  Gardener: “Then why do you call it blue flag?”  I could write a whole different article on the color I call “horticultural blue”, which results from plant breeders’ apparent need to describe purple flowers as blue.

Iris versicolor AKA blue flag

So Latin makes my life easier.  When I dream I can tell the plants apart!

Carolyn

Notes: Every word that appears in orange on my blog is a link that you can click for more information. If you want to return to my blog’s homepage to access the sidebar information (catalogues, previous articles, etc.), just click here.

The conversations with gardeners above are fictional and merely meant to represent the problems caused by the use of common names.  For more information on the interesting things you can figure out from the botanical names of plants, visit Hayefield’s 12/2/10 and 12/17/10 posts.

In my post I Need Your Help, I asked readers to send cards to the daughter of Kartik who was the subject of my post New Year’s Resolution to Edit the Garden.  I would still appreciate your help with this appeal.  Thanks.

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