Garden Bloggers Bloom Day

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day
What's blooming in the garden on the 15th of the month

Unknown 'black' iris. Looks purple in the camera's eye.

Mountain Laurel 'Sarah'.

Itoh peony 'Garden Treasure'.

Bearded Iris 'Wabash'.

Nicotiana blooming already. It overwinterd and came roaring back quickly.

Bearded Iris 'Quaker Lady', as best as I can tell. It was in the yard when I bought the house 30 years ago.

Bearded Iris 'Frank Adams'. Very prolific.

Head on over to Carol's May Dream Gardens to ogle over other bloom photos from other bloggers.

Maybe More Geraniums

This is the Cranesbill Geranium. I picked it up at a neighborhood plant swap many years ago, with its owner not knowing what it was. (Where else -- plants are free.) She though it was a moss phlox, which is understandable. Both have similar color flowers, and both creep along the ground. I know better. I had a 'Rozanne' variety once, but it was in a spot too shady and left this world.

I don't know the variety of this one, but it sure is a reliable ground coer and spring bloomer. The buds are so small that when you look at it one day you do not notice anything ready to bloom. Then the next day, pop! Flowers!

After it is finished for the spring, it remains quietly there, laid out and protecting the sloping ground from erosion. But hold on. I recently read that if the leaves are sheared off aft its spring flush, more leaves and flowers come back for more blooms. I must try this, but fear it would not work for me, and leave my sloping ground bare.

Multitude of Iris

This iris was picked up at a neighborhood plant swap many years ago, if my memory serves me. (Sometimes it doesn't.) It's been in my garden for more than a decade. Since I did not purchse it, and it wasn't here when I bought the house, it must have come from one of those early plant swaps.

I believe the name is 'Frank Adams', after searching through countless online iris sources for identification. My iris seems to be a pretty good match with what I found. It's form is not frilly like most of the newer varieties, and the colors are not usual. That narrows it down. Frank Adams was developed in the 1930s and seems to fit the bill.

I mention it here because of its tendancy to easily multiply. I have given away countless sections, yet this clump seems to grow exponentially every year to make up for the portions gifted away. I wish my 'black' iris would do that.

I do have another itis that easily multiplies, but that one is a subject for the next post.

Late to the Party

I planted the five amaryllis bulbs in the garden last summer to allow them to regenerate. They all seemd to enjoy the warm weather and remained healthy-looking into fall. No new growth appeaered on any following their intiial flush of leaves after blooming in winter.

I lifted them before the frost came, and left them in the cool dark baseemnt so they could go to sleep. But, they were insomniacs. For months on end the leaves remained green and lush in their new soil-less home. No water, no sunlight, but they looked to be happy and in good condition.

I noticed a little yellowing and wilting of some leaves in January, so I cut them off and with fingers crossed, potted the bulbs. This was really later than I expected to get them into bloom mode. But, four of the five put up flower stalks, and two of them put up two.

This one, 'Mandela' is the newest and the last of the bunch to bloom. Its dark maroon-red flower and somewhat shorter stalks are things I will look forawrd to next year. It would be nice to have them blooming at Christmas, so I think the lesson is to get them out of the garden in September and pot them up in November.

Truest Bluest

This is Ajuga reptans. A few sprigs were given to me many years ago from a friend who had it growing in the yard without knowing what it was. My ajuga grew well, waned, almost disappeared, grew again, and somehow walked across the lawn to another part of my property. I now have two separate smaller patches, neither one worth bragging about.

Last fall, I reassembled one clump, transplanting as many of the sprouts scattered around the hostas and new magnolia tree as I could. Now spring, the grouping became a little denser than the scattered individual sprigs that survived neglect. As I look out to the yard from my deack, I can actually see a small patch of blue where in recent years, I saw nothing from that distance. It is a sight to see, with white and rad azaleas blooming in the background nearby. Very patriotic.

Salome

This daffodil 'Salome' has been one of my all-time favorites. The color and gradual change as it matures is incredible, starting out with light yellow cups turning to a soft peach; all within a mostly white backdrop.

But of course since it is one of the favorites, it can't possibly easily multiply like lesser-loved cultivars do. I've tried everything: moving it around to different locations in the gardens in the hopes that I will hit upon the best growing conditions. It's current location is a "plant it and forget it" location on the south side of the house. This bed is somewhat protected from the nasty northern winter winds, and on a slightly sloping ground to mitigate the feared wet soil fungii and water molds attacking the bulbs. Didn't help. Today I still have about the same number of bulbs as I planted several years ago.

Looks like I might be resigned to opening the wallet to bring in some brothers and sisters to keep these company next year.

Let 'Em Rip

This is daffodil 'Rip Van Winkle' I purchased many many years ago (about 20 years), being a little different than your average ho-hum yellow 'King Alfred'. I was craving something different and unique. Well, as with many a plant from my ealier gardening years, they died, disappeared, or packed it in and left town.

Three years ago, this daffodil popped up and bloomed. I was startled, and though some of the different daffodil species in the garden participated in a little hany-panky and produced this offspring. I had never seen this flower before.

The way-back machine in my brain kicked in and memory of the Rip Van Winkles bubbled up. Ah, yes. I looked at other photos of this variety and see that my version is not as hairy-looking and beardly as they are. The flower resembles the beard from someone who may have been asleep for many years. How appropriate - these have been sleeping in my garden for years and just now awakened.

Getting Better At It

A few years ago, I resloved to get any amaryllis to bloom again. My attempt did not work the first year. The scond year, I planted it in the garden in spring. It bloomed there in late summer, but not in winter.

Never giving up, the follow year I did the same, but tried to keep the bulb's schedule closely aligned with the season. I did eek out a small bloom then. Last year, with four bulbs now in the ground during the summer, I watered and fertilized them up the wazoo. After bringing them into the basement when frost hit, they stayed in the dark with no water from October on.

Die, damn it. Die! These little suckers continued to stay green well into January. Last month, they began to wilt and turn yellow. That was my clue. After wacking off the leaves, I planted them, gave them water and sun, and now have three of the four with buds or blooms. This double-flowered one, 'Double Delicious', was a gift last year and is doing great. The other two are coming along at different stages.

Heads Down

I needed something different for my hellebores photos this year, so I went for a different angle: cloeups.

I always wanted this shy flower with its heads hung low. A few years back, I finally got the chance when some hellebores came up at a Master Gardener plant swap. I swooped up the container and asked the owner what type or color they were. She didn't remember. I didn't care - I got one.

But, I got two. What bloomed were two colors. I kept intending to separate them, but the lazy gardener that I am, never got around to it. They really need dividing this year, so maybe this is the year. What no one told me about this shade plant - it reseeds a lot and sires a lot of offspring. I find myself ripping out seedlings are the end of summer.

I hope to get a different color some year, and one of the later cultivars where the flowers are more upward facing. But I entertain the neighbors as they watch me photograph these lying on my back.

Perfumed Unruliness

This is commonly called white forsythia. I've posted about it in the past -- about its fragrance and its early blooming at the time of the crocus. I wanted to add a few more notes to my previous posts. It's blooming now, before the daffodiles, before the common yellow forsythia, and before the cherry blossoms. Its problem lies in that the blooms can be destroyed by a hard freeze if it comes late after blooming.

Abeliophyllum distichum is a member of the fragrant olive family, and a native of Korea. It acts like forsythia in that it is a wild misbehaving child that rambles around and looks terribly unattractive for most of the year. Just like forsythia, it is difficult to control into a well-mannered form. Its branches create unplanned offspring by rooting new plants if not kept off the ground.

But for those few days in early spring, it's worth it. The neighbors love its sweet perfume. They appreciate my cuttings of its branches, telling me how it perfumes the entire house with just three sprigs. Yes, that's true; it does.

I took some into a Master Gardeners spring meeting one year since it was blooming at that time. Most gardeners had never heard of it. Many experienced gardeners requested its name or some sprouts if available. I was the most popular guy at the plant swap later that year.

Deflated But Not Defeated

This Opuntia cactus spends its winter looking very sad. When cold weather rolls around, it gets deflated, with an appearace of being dead. It keels over, resting on top of the wood deck walkway. I would guess it is dehydrating, with only a little anti-freeze left in its veins and no water to freeze. When spring comes around, it will perk up happy to see you again.

Slowly Multiplying

Spring is in the air. Daffodils don't like blooming around here at this time of year. But, these Rip Van Winkle daffodils are anxious and budding already. Located at the south side of the brick house, protected from winds and severe weather, they are way ahead of the other bulbs just starting to pop out of the ground.

History: I bought and planted a few of them maybe 10 years years ago. They disappeared after flowering. After a few years and a few tears, one bloomed. I didn't know what it was at first! Since, I have been giving them encouragement every year. Look here - five buds this year!