The Undead Zombie Plants

A quick walk through the gardens last week showed the extent of winter's damage. Zombie plants are everywhere. They appear dead, but may be undead -- ready to spring up from the earth to grow among the living again.

At a gardening lecture attended Saturday, everyone was wailing in anguish at the slow arrival of spring and the exceptionally harsh winter. One gardener complained that the temperatures dropped below the minimum temperatures of the USDA Hardiness Zone Map, not realizing its numbers are average low temperatures, not lowest. And then it snowed yesterday.

Zombies inhabit the side garden, located on the south side of my brick house and protected from northwest winds.

Rosemary
Come back to life?
The rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis) provides fresh herbs for our grilled potatoes in the summer. It survived previous winters nestled in the side garden and was mulched in autumn.

The plant looks dead dead dead. Two semi-green leaves were noticed down inside the base after I took the shears to the plant last week. They did not appear as new sprouts, but as almost dead. The sprigs were plucked off and brought indoors for rooting. Hope is that the roots will rebound with a new plant later.

Lychnis

Rose Campion
It's alive.
This (Lychnis coronaria) was a donation to the dry garden last spring. Winter left it looking deflated. Like a good little zombie, it kept rising out of the ground during the winter, and I kept pushing it back down. Prognosis is good for survival after its first year, and after the frost heave.

Cardoon
Dead or undead?
(Cynara cardunculus) survived for the past three winters. Right now, there is nothing to photograph after the second cold wave turned what was left to mush, blackened and disfigured. Like the rosemary, hope is that a new plant will develop from surviving roots, but I don't know. That looked mighty black with rot down to the core.

Cutting Celery
Will it rise again?
Sprigs of this lived through two winters and came back healthy and spreading each spring, with some plants coming from reseeding. Today I can photograph only dirt, but hope new celery will again grow from last year's seeds.

California Poppy
Come back to life?
Expectations are high for the Schscholzia californica. Those not surviving past winters have prolifically reseeded across the platform steps to the other side of the garden. Today everything looks wiped out.

Belacamda Lily poking up

Belacamda Lily
Among the living.
Two years ago, (Belacamda chinensis) were planted from seed, and one bloomed. And then it died. Last year, more were planted from seed, two survived, and were well-mulched last fall. Expecting the worse after this winter, I was rejoicing at the pair that are among the living. The leaves are rising up, resembling bearded iris.

So today, it's Zombies 4, Living 2.

So This Is Invasive

When looking into the information about my cardoon (Cynara cardunculus) this summer, [posted 2012.07.07] I ran across several sources that label it as an invasive species, especially on the U.S. west coast. According to the USDA Invasive and Noxious Plants List, California brands it as a noxious weed. Now I know why. The tall plant has some rather voluminous, nasty looking (although not very sharp) cauldrons of seeds. They dried during the summer and broke open, spewing thousands of silky, airy, floating seeds to populate my neighbors' yards. I can't wait until they find artichokes growing in their lawn next year.

I can see why this is considered an invasive in some parts with a seed dispersal system like this. One hopes for my sake that they do not easily germinate next year.

The cardoon plants were cut down after they went to seed last month. I was thinking it was an annual, and began planning for what could take its place next year. But after my week long vacation trip, I came home to find the darn thing is growing again! No, it is NOT an annual. I need to add its move to the fall chores list, since I will not keep it in its present location. One good point: I have lots of contributions for the annual gardeners seed exchange that I attend in late January.

Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, cosmos, canna, mexican zinnia, zinnia, acidanthera, coneflower   • Harvested: 2 tomatoes, 1 cucumber

Addition To The Manscape

Cardoon (Cynara cardunculus) became one of my new additions to the manscape, joining the canna, sunflowers, knipophia, castor bean, cactus, and large leaf hostas. Plants in the mascape make a statement. They have big in-your-face thick foliage and rugged unique flowers. There is nothing dainty or subtle with their imposing architectural stature. They are tough, mostly tall, need their space, love to compete and win. They don't need constant attention or tender loving care, easily surviving winters, summer droughts, pests, and harsh soil conditions. You don't find a lot of neutrals, pinks, or lavenders.

On a visit to Wililamsburg a few years ago, I stopped at the colonial garden plot. There was a 8-foot tall (2.5 m) cardoon with intense blue flowers on the top, and large 1-foot long (30 cm) leaves. When my landscape architect friends offered a few cardoon plants to me last fall, I eagerly accepted and planted them in the south-facing side yard against the brick house. They stayed green all winter, began growing in March, and reached 6-foot (2 m) in height. Now they are blooming atop the artichoke bud.

The 4-inch (10 cm) spherical cardoon flowers look like a thistle on steroids - ten times as large and with an ice blue color. Cardoons are members of the artichoke family and are a type of thistle. I find them big attractions for pollinators like carousing bumble bees who spend the night on the flowers, and awake in morning sleepy and lethargic as hangover victims.

One source states "I've found that cardoons offer excellent habitat for Ladybugs to breed and multiply in, so our cardoon patch not only serves as a food crop, it's also an insectary that benefits the rest of our more common vegetable crops." I have seen ladybug nymphs on my cardoons this spring.

Native to the Mediterranean region, the stalks have been a food for centuries according to ancient Greek records, and were even cultivated by American colonists. Some sources claim they are an invasive species - so I guess they fit right in with my gardens. They are sold in a handful of farmer's markets today, and can be found in French, African, and especially Italian cuisine. Recipes for Cardoon Gratin, Sauteed Cardoon with Thyme and Pine Nuts, Cardoon-Pasta, Pureed Cardoon Soup, bechamels, and stews can be found on the internet. So can growing instructions.

I was intrigued enough to look into harvesting them for grilled pizza. The stalks (resembling celery) are blanched while growing for about two weeks before harvest - and they are harvested before they bloom. One method for blanching includes include wrapping the stems with straw and manure, which unfortunately (or fortunately) I don't have a lot of on hand. It is too late in the season to harvest my cardoons, but maybe next year.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with a few amendments   • Full sun, normal water   • No fertilizer   • Pests include leafhoppers, black aphids, spider mites Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: pink cosmos, mexican zinnia, rudbeckia, cleome, echinacea,     lavender, cardoon, zinnia, platycodon, echinops, nicotiana, monarda, liatris   • Harvested: 28 cherry tomatoes