New St. John's Wort

Well, it's really not new but it's acting like it is. Two years ago during a very heavy snowfall, the large (I do mean large) photinias were knocked over. They shaded a good part of my rear yard fence garden, providing an environment for hostas, heuchera, astilbe, and ferns. St. John's Wort spread along the ground under them. I took the photinias out after they did not bouce back after the smow, and now most of the shade plants that depended on them are suffering through direct morning sun until about 1:00 in the afernoon.

St. John's Wort seems to be liking the additinal sunlight. I find that the plant has begun spreading its wings into the turf grassy area, and the new growth has really started to glow yellow like never before. A little sun makes it shine!

I also discoverred the older growth remains the evergreen color and is where the flowers are coming from. Flowers are still 'few and far between', and tend to pop up at verious times throughout the spring. It would make a more serious garden statement if they all appreaed at the same time.

I am going to replace the photinias with Swamp Magnolia - a Virginia native. I will need to wait a few years for it to grow to a size that can shade all the plants that were previously happy. I hope the hostas can survive that long - they are the ones most suffering. Maybe a move for them to more hospitable locations is in the cards this fall.

Leap Year

Sleep
The woodland phlox (Phlox divaricata) was purchased at the annual spring garden sale at the local botanical garden, Green Spring. I do like to grow natives and feel a bit of guilt because I do not exclusively limit my garden to them. This one was sold in the native plant vendor section. It did not have much of a label, except for "Woodland Phlox".

My newfound native came with a small cluster of flowers on a thin but upright stalk. It was planted in a lightly shaded bed with shade compatriots tradescantia, hosta, and astilbe and hydrangea, in the forefront front of them all. The internet says to expect a height of 12-inches (30 cm). The plant stopped blooming in summer and did not do anything for the rest of the year. Early morning sun bathed the area, but for most of the day it received dappled shade under an ever increasing neighbor's maple tree to the south.

Creep
Last year, it started to spread. There was an upright section that produced clusters of spring blooms, and a horizontal section that spread out flat to the ground. But it did have several flower stalks clustered together, indicating that it was growing.

It survived that nasty winter. Natives can survive beasts and weather in the wild, but sometimes do not survive me.

Leap
All those horizontal sections running along the surface of the ground last year produced dozens of flower stalks this year. The result is a mound of light blue, slightly fragrant flower clusters. If memory serves me, I was able to enjoy these flowers for over a month.

This wildflower phlox is native to woodlands of the eastern United States, north from Quebec, south to Texas. Yes, I know Quebec is Canada. Woodland phlox likes moist, fertile, loose soil. I have one out of three with my Virginia clay -- moist clay.

Common cultivars are 'Blue Moon' most resembling my plant, and 'Clouds of Perfume.' The flowers have nectar in the base of the long tubes, so insects need long tongues to get to it. Butterflies and hummingbirds are supposed like them best. I like them second best. They bloom at a place in the yard where hydrangea, hosta, and astilbe are still getting ready for their show to come later.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with mulch and organic amendments   • Mostly shade   • Very little fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: azalea, viburnum, dutch iris, coreopsis

Stars For A Dark Garden

I dropped off cardoon and cannas to a fellow gardener. He asked if I would want some colocasia in return since I provided him suggestions on storing them over winter. I was asked to point out anything else that might interest me.

I spied the white flower stalks in the semi-shady area and pointed. "Those? You want some of those? What are they?" I didn't know either, except that I had to have some. They had tall daffodil foliage, growing in some shade, were 3-4 feet tall (1m), and had presence. Most likely a spring blooming bulb I thought, and asked to get some after the foliage died down later.

Next week, I was told to come and get 'em -- before the foliage had died down. They were dug up and left on his front porch. I stopped in and planted them that day as best I could, and crossed my fingers that they would replenish themselves enough to bloom this year.

I found the name is Camassia (Camassia leichtlinii spp. leichtlinii), and informed him. Camassia was usually blue, but this subspecies is white. Camassia is a native spring bloomer from the Pacific northwest down to the western Rockies. The bulbs were an important food source for native Americans and were roasted or boiled. Lewis and Clark wrote about eating them ... and about the severe gas cramps the men got afterwards.

Camassia does best in sun or part shade, and is found in meadows or near ponds. They will grow in damp areas other bulbs will not. (And they bloom during the late spring 'dead zone' when not much else does.) They should make great cut flowers, and the white subspecies can reseed easily, producing lots of offspring according to the Pacific Bulb Society. 'Marshy areas' and 'growing well in some shade' sounds great to help fill in my plant graveyard.

My Camassia came up this spring with thin spindly leaves. Bud stalks arrived later and are blooming. Did the lousy shady area with wet heavy soil or the transplanting before the bulbs redeveloped last year cause the small blooms? Or, maybe it was both. Because some of the bulbs did not produce flowers this year, the suspicion is that low development from last year was the culprit.

"Camassia prefer to grow undisturbed," say instructions. After this year, they will be moved to an area that gets slightly more sun. I look forward to next spring when more delicate looking white stars brighten up the shady spot between the hydrangea and polygonatum.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with recent organic amendments   • Mostly light amount of fertilizer   • Somewhat damp low-lying area   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: salvia, coreopsis, tradescantia, camassia, dutch iris   • Harvested: 1 radish

Almost Lost You

Mr. Astilbe ... we almost lost you. Glad you pulled through.

The Bridal Veil Astilbe (Astilbe x arendsii) was one of the first shady newcomers to the rear yard upgrade four or five years ago. Who doesn't look for a double planted or dividable pot when selecting that something special to take home from the expensive nursery? I found one and planted my twins side by side.

They prospered and grew larger, and then last year there were no flowers. The plants just stopped growing. I came to the rescue with some life-support compost and mulch, but the ground was rock-hard and dry after the exceptionally hot spring. These plants probably like shade for a reason.

Coddling them through the spring, they turned a nice golden crispy brown and finally disappeared around July. They came back this year, but the blossoms look nothing like the fluffy happy photos on web sites.

After blooming, I plan to move them further from the photinia that steal every drop of water from the soil under them. And maybe we give them some additional light. There was a new red astilbe planted in the garden about a year ago that seems more hardy, either because it is further away from the photinia, or it receives a little more sun.

I could not let a few other impressive results of this spring go by without showing them off. Kniphofia uvaria has multiplied more - do they make a good cut flower? And the opuntia shows why I keep it around.

For The Record:   • Clay soil with leaf mulch & organic amendments   • Shade   • Small amount of fertilizer   • No serious pests/disease Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: astilbe, rudbeckia, phlox, coreopsis, opuntia, kniphofia, poppy, daylily, rose campion, lime echinacea   • Harvested: 1 radish

St. John's Wort Treats Garden Gloom

As many know, St. Johns Wort (Hypericum calycinum) is used as an herbal remedy for mild depression. Around my garden, it treats the gloomy, sad area also know as the space beneath the photinia shrub - the dry, shady, clay, snail-infested territory. Snails are slow-paced fellows and have no need for anti-depressants.

I picked up my one St. John's Wort 'Brigadoon' at our neighborhood plant swap three years ago. Its chartreuse leaves were a cheery pick-me-up for the dark depressing spot where the photinas prevented any happiness from growing. It put out a few new shoots in year I while continuing to allow soil to wash into my lawn (excuse me - since I am a master gardener, the term is turf.) In year II, a few more shoots and one flower was all it could muster. I began to think the internet lied about an easy-growing perennial. Now year III sees it filling in nicely and maturing to the ground cover and erosion control it was born to be.

Besides its slow growth (good because I already have ample invasive plants to control), it is only about 6-inches high (15 cm). Yellow flowers are not very abundant. The leaves darken with age, but remain light enough to brighten up a shade.

Now the interesting facts. The name comes for is bloom time around June 24 when the birthday of St. John the Baptist is celebrated. It is believed to be native to Europe and Asia, and maybe western US, and has been classified as an invasive noxious weed in some countries, especially where cattle and livestock are raised. Ingestion by livestock can cause photosensitization, central nervous system distress, depression, spontaneous abortion, and can lead to death. How can you tell if a cow is depressed? All cows seem depressed to me. Maybe I am confusing depression with laid-back.

It was used by early Greeks for ailments including nervous disorders. Studies have proven it as effective as Prozac in the treatment of mild to moderate depression, but are inconclusive for severe depression. The major downer for taking St. John's Wort is its dangerous side effects from interactions with other medications and herbs.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with gypsum & organic amendments with small amount of fertilizer   • Full light shade   • No serious pests or disease   • Slow growing Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: echinacea, daisy, lily, daylily, nicotiana, cleome, hydrangea, loostrife, hosta, astilbe, lavender   • Harvested: radish, beans

Full Figured Frances Williams

I did have a few moments last week to photograph and write about the Frances Williams hosta (Hosta sieboldiana), between a national convention, picnics, and happy hour in a whirlwind weekend. One of my only two plants from the 'famous Walmart collection' is now in its third year, and it continues to improve and impress. This year, Frances Williams is larger than life and reaching her full figured size. Look at those ginormous quilted 1-foot (30 cm) leaves! No slug can gnaw through that thick hide.

Frances Williams was an American hosta connoisseur and breeder. This was one of the first big leaf hostas, so it became very popular despite its shortcomings. What are they? First, like the best vampires, there is an intolerance to sunlight and summer heat. Second, it is slow to grow and mature with age. I read that the less green on a host leaf, the more sun tolerant it is.

He or she? Frances was a she. And she has 17 hostas to her credit, along with a notable impact on the American Hosta scene. This particular plant was given one name by Ms. Williams, but renamed in honor of her at a later date. Two different stories emerge about its origins. Did she breed this or find it in a batch of seedlings in the 1930s? Regardless, it was one of the most popular hostas for a very long time. Newer varieties improved on its deficiencies, but it is still around as an original.

My plant was purchased from Walmart and split into two after my infamous shopping trip there three years ago. I have been back a few times since, and have never seen anything like the selection available then.

Each year, the colorful leaves emerge bigger than the last. Flowers are on sturdy stalks, about 18-inches tall (45 cm). And each year, the plant develops crispy burnt leaves toward mid summer. In truth, it gets direct morning sun for about 3 hours. Its size has increased in direct proportion to the organic amendments I add to the clay between her toes.

Growing between the two gals is Gold Standard - a perfect companion. It has chartreuse leaves with green edges, as opposed to Frances with her green leaves with chartreuse edges. Goldie is lower growing with more-pointed leaves that gradually change over the growing season from chartreuse to gold yellow. Flowers are unimpressive, but we don't grow them for floral arrangements. I lucked out with another pair of plants with great complimenting colors. Tell them I planned it that way.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with lots of organic amendments   • Mostly moist shade, a little direct morning sun   • Small amount of organic fertilizer   • Slugs and something else eating small holes in Goldie   • Burnt leaf edges in summer due to heat and direct sun (I think) Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: Echinacea, nicotiana, daylily, peony poppy, hosta, tradescantia   • Harvested: Radishes

Ain't No Rhodie Kill

After purchasing my house, the hybrid rhododendron Roseum elegans was one of the first plants bought for the yard when my gardening journey began, back in 1988. An older hybrid from the 1830's, it was also one of the few 'first plants' that survived my horticultural learning curve.

There were actually two planted in the corners of the rear yard, back when a diseased apple tree and a neighbor's overgrown crabapple trees blotted out the sun. Over the years, my dogwood and muscular star magnolia grew to provide the shade that disappeared when the apple trees were cut down. Both rhodies grew in the deep recesses of the back, but one died out about a decade ago from some mysterious die-back disease.

Growth slowed over the years, but the sole survivor bloomed each spring, with some years more exuberant than others. Summers revealed occasional winter die-off or diseased sections that needed amputation, yellowing leaf and drop, chomping bugs, vitamin deficiencies, or 'white fuzzy bugs.' But the plant always pulled through.

Then in winter of 2010, our town was hit with two record 24-inch snowfalls close together [2010.02.19]. The spring thaw revealed that the grand old lady had been flattened. My recent master gardener classes taught us to let the plants be and allow them to bounce back on their own. Remarkably, most branches did that, but some required pruning off.

This year the plant is taller than ever at about 6-feet (1.8 m), albeit with a bit of a scraggly appearance from the previous winter damage and pruning. And the 6-inch (15 cm) lavender blossom balls are numerous.

As evidenced by the photo, birds love hanging out in the dogwood tree above and providing fertilizer. This spring, I will need to rescue the rhodie from the invading azalea hordes nipping its base, and maybe prune to restore its shape. The survivor deserves better care after being in the dark forgotten corner of the 'back woods' for so long.

For The Record:   • Moist soil with acid and organic amendments over time   • Light to heavy shade   • All sorts of diseases but they never kill it off Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: dutch iris, iris, salvia, hollyhock, rhododendron, alyssum, geranium, macrorrhizum geranium   • Transplanted outdoors: peppers, tomatoes

Sorry Cocoa Say What?

The white forsythia [10.3.2009] and crocus are usually the first in the garden to awake in spring, announcing the beginning of a new growing season. This year there is a new addition to the early show. The Sweetbox (sarcococca hookeriana var. humilis) began blooming recently, beating the white forsythia by about a week.

While beginning my garden journey many years ago, I began scouring garden catalogs to learn as much as possible about the multitude of nursery plants available for Virginia. Many were new and strange to me after moving south 2 zones from New York. This one with the weird name sounded interesting - evergreen, shade, early, and fragrant.

Two years ago, I purchased two sarcococca (not sure of the plural) from Lower Marlboro Nursery and planted. Now in its third year, the plant began producing fragrant flowers last week, and finally began showing signs that it is ready to begin spreading.

Lower Marlboro Nursery, 60 miles away (95 km) in Maryland is another story itself. The nursery was essentially one person (Mary) who's mission was to promote and provide native species for the small gardening community who could not find them elsewhere. She propagated, grew, and sold them from her front 'yard' forest. I was a yearly customer. Last year, she decided to call it quits, since the supply and variety of natives is now more bountiful from mainstream garden suppliers - mission accomplished. (Sarcococca is not native here, but she sold it.)

This particular sarcococca is native to the Himalayas, and spreads slowly so I guess it is not at home in my 'invasives' garden. Dark, glossy evergreen leaves are only bothered by an occasional yellowing at the tips and are not harmed by any pests. The tiny flowers go almost unnoticed- resembling shards of hanging fingernails. When they came out last week, I am sure the squirrels and cardinals were amused - me on my hands and knees attempting a sniff. But yesterday, the blossoms became fragrant. They resemble lilacs to my nose. I left plenty of space to spread into a ground cover and continue to patiently wait.

For The Record:   • Heavy clay soil with occasional organic amendments   • Full shade, average water   • No pests   • No fertilizer

Purple Passion

While in Atlanta last fall, I was impressed by the 7-feet (2 m) tall, purple-leaf plants growing in the corner of the botanical garden outdoor cafe. A sign indicated they were Persian Shield (Strobilanthes dyerianus). Once back home, I described them to my landscape architect friends who told me they never grow 7-feet tall in this climate, unless they overwinter in a greenhouse, a most likely scenario.

This year, I bought one and have been impressed by its growth over the summer. Although not getting to the height of the Atlanta plants, the Strobilanthes dyerianus produced its intense iridescent purple leaves. This tropical beauty from southeast Asia loves a dark, hot, humid environment. They were very popular in the Victorian era, but are new to most gardeners now.

My 3-feet (1 m) high plant loves its digs. It was planted on the north side of a fence, in an area where moss grows because of the dampness, and our hot humid Washington summers are famous. Online research indicates it can be rooted easily from cuttings, and can be kept as a houseplant. The plan is to take a few snips soon and grow more during winter for next year. They will compliment the taller castor bean plants with their tinge of maroon/purple in the leaves.

For The Record:   • Somewhat clay soil with organics added   • Full shade   • No fertilizer   • Mulched to retain soil moisture Garden Calendar:   • Blooming: zinnia, nicotiana, asters, nasturtiums (again), cosmos, acidanthera, canna   • Harvested: 2 peppers