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Well folks, at this point, I think I've just about navigated to the end of denial river, and am beginning to bargain reluctantly with Fall, trying my best to enjoy the unique pleasures it does afford the melancholy gardener at this time of year. After all, we have enjoyed a fairly decent harvest of garden goodness from the tomatoes, corn, onions, leeks to the inadvertently planted pumpkins. As you can see, preparations for the grand Halloween season have begun (thanks to Fernymoss for picking up the slack while I was sick this past weekend) with the arrival of the Punkin Dude! Even though he's usually a harbinger of colder times to come, so far this year we've avoided a hard frost, though it's just a matter of time before it happens and all the remaining color in this part of the garden will be a mere memory until next year.... Still, we'll enjoy it until the bitter end, and I'd just like to point out a few flowers that can provide you with some late fall firepower until that moment comes.
I know I've sung the praises of Calendula officinalis previously, and here's yet another reason why I value this humble 'Pot Marigold' so highly ... just check out those fresh, cheery yellow and orange flowers blooming late into October! Just think ... this particular patch of Calendula has been blooming since June! What more could one ask of an easy self-seeding annual ... over five months of bloom time? If you want more, then you're a more demanding gardener than I am! They've been putting on seeds for a few months now, and though that usually means the end of most annuals, these lovelies just keep on blooming! And only a very hard frost will kill them and stop their show....
Here's a nice close up of an appropriately colored (for the season) Calendula cascading over the edge of one of the front boulders near the steps approaching our house. I'll repeat (ad nauseum) just one more time that I haven't replanted these Calendulas for about five years, and just scatter their seed after frost to ensure their reappearance next spring. If you're interested in growing these no fuss beauties, now (or very soon) is the time to plant them, once the ground has cooled (generally after a killing frost) and they're unlikely to germinate until the ground warms up next spring. Your only other option is to get them out very early in the spring, when, honestly, few gardeners are thinking about digging around in the dirt while it's still cold and lifeless (at least I don't care much for that activity). Sow them liberally where you want them to grow, perhaps raking up the dirt a bit just to cover them and let them winter in place, where they'll pop up in early spring and start to bloom in late May to early June through frost. As Ina Garten would say, How easy is that? Then just either let them fall in place after frost or break up the seedheads and fling them around an area where you'd like them to colonize and your work is done!
On a quick visit today, I saw that Gail is still enjoying her Celosia 'Caracas' down in Nashville, and I suspect that ours will succumb to the cold before hers, but now is a great time to be gathering seed, as the color recedes from the blooms (I'd better get busy doing this myself soon!). But they also provide some great colorful fall accents when everything else is looking pretty ratty, worn out and drab in the garden, and I've noticed that as the weather has inevitably cooled lately, the foliage is taking on an even deeper shade of red, changing along with the leaves on the trees as the season progresses, until they are soon snuffed out by a killing frost and their seeds will go dormant until early summer next year when we'll hopefully have many more popping up in this area....
This is a wider view of the area where 'Caracas' was planted near our stand of 'Porcupine Grass' (Miscanthus sinensis), and as you can see, both have been beaten down a bit by some of the heavy rains and windy storms we've had over the past few weeks. Normally, my inclination would be to stake up the Celosia a bit, but at this point in the season, we tend to just let Nature take her course and let things fall where they may ... besides, Halloween is nearly here and it just seems to add to the generalized spookiness the front garden takes on for the holiday, with its scattered bones and tombstones....
As I wandered around to the Woodland Garden after work today (when I took these photos in the late afternoon), I saw that the Daturas are still hanging in there and blooming away, so I had to pause and get a few shots ... Fernymoss remarked --for a reason that escapes me-- that this one was very 'Georgia O'Keefe.' Ok, I'll go against the grain here (bring out the pitchforks and torches) and say that I've never quite "gotten" the whole enthusiasm for her work. Yes, she did some pretty paintings of flowers, but honestly, her paintings usually just leave me cold. It's not that I don't like women painters (au contraire!), but give me some Remedios Varo or Frida Kahlo any day, because I find their work infinitely more fascinating than O'Keefe's. But I digress ... this is a lovely Datura bloom, isn't it?
Ah yes, the ever present, now weed status Zebrina Mallow, which became quite the pest in the corner boulder bed this year ... despite my aggressive hacking away at it a few months ago, I did allow a few well behaved plants remain (they are really pretty after all), and as you can see here, the cooler weather also has its effect on the late season blooms ... they become darker, bordering more on the magenta hue than their pure purple and white of the warmer months, and what's more, they often bloom past the 'bitter end' of a hard frost and only a hard freeze finally sends them packing for the year, after they've dropped their multitudes of seeds. But as you all know, I'm a really mallow kind of guy, so it's difficult for me to try to eradicate them completely, but then again, check back with me next spring as I labor plucking out all the unwanted ones....
Finally, believe it or not, the Castor ricinus 'Carmencita Rose' plants we grew in a big pot this year are actually setting on some seeds! Though these plants haven't reached full size (7-8 ft) because we grew them in a container, they have been blooming profusely lately, and we may just be able to collect some viable seed to save (are you interested, Marnie?) for next year. These seed pods are very strange, as you can see, and they remind me of some kind of sea anemone or sea cucumber, or one of those weird denizens of the deep. Of all the Castors one can grow, this is by far my favorite (although Zanzibariensis comes close), due to its striking architectural look and the brilliant bronzy foliage that positively glows in the late afternoon sun (of which we are sorely lacking these days). It's well worth planting as a specimen plant in the garden where you have an area you want to accent a striking plant (in full sun) that you won't see in just any garden. Then again, we kind of pride ourselves on being 'not just any garden,' for better or worse!
Yes, there are more Toad Lilies to come, but I'm still behind a bit in posting of late, but there will be more soon!
When I logged into Blogger tonight, I noticed that, to date, I had published 399 posts since June of 2006 ... which of course set me to thinking about what number 400 should be, and honestly I had no idea what I wanted to do to commemorate the arrival of a nice round number (that even managed to surprise me). Then I thought about how this blog got started in the first place ... my dear friend Olivia in Ottawa had finally convinced me that I really should do a gardening blog and pushed me gently into taking the plunge. After some initial hand holding and (my) incessant questions about logistics, she set me on the course of creating Urban Oasis and what it has become over the past two years. Olivia has been a constant correspondent, mentor and coach for this blog over the past two years, and if nothing else (among many, many things), she taught me how to go beyond my basic 'I'm a flower documentarian, not an artist!' view of photography and take risks and experiment with how I present my subjects. Not only have I learned much, but the quality of what I've been able to do with my humble efforts here has benefited immensely under Olivia's gentle tutelage. I hope that readers older and newer have appreciated the invisible finger guiding much of what you see here in the photos ... I'm still learning (especially with the S700 since it came on the scene), and really appreciate those who come along for the ride!
One of the longstanding topics of conversation Olivia and I have had over the years relates to this simple flower (which has now achieved weed status in our garden), Datura meteloides, commonly known as (variously) 'Moonflower,' 'Angel's Trumpet,' 'Devil's Trumpet,' Jimson or 'Loco' Weed and a plethora of other not so laudatory epithets. When we first got acquainted (on a community blog I no longer frequent), she was envious that we grew these in the garden, and had fond memories of her grandmother growing huge specimens when she was a child. At that point, she had no access to plants or seeds to grow her own, and she wanted some in her garden so badly.... Despite various schemes to get the seeds past Canadian Customs (all abandoned due to this plant's bad reputation as a powerful psychoactive toxin), she finally came into possession of some plants last year and was able to grow them in her garden at last. I haven't heard whether she has them again this year (likely, as they self-seed promiscuously), but even if not, I was compelled to put up this flower in her honour.
So here you go, Olivia, I hope you enjoy this photo Fernymoss captured on Sunday as he caught one of the blooms opening ... it's not the best photo you'll ever see here on the blog, but it had your name all over it. Thanks for all the help and inspiration over the years, toots, I trust you know this one comes from the heart of the garden to you!
Did you know that potpourri really means 'spoiled/rotten pot' in French? More generally, at least in this country, it tends to refer to a not necessarily contiguous assortment of various items, as well as that dried dead floral matter that was so popular in stew pots (remember those mini-crock pots?) of the 1980s and 1990s. So let's go with the assortment idea for this post, shall we? Otherwise, I fear fondue may not be far behind....
Saturday, as I made my way around the garden looking for potential subjects, I happened to catch all these subjects still making small color splashes around the garden ... this first shot shows one of our rather tardively planted Moss Rose (Portulaca grandiflorum) we have amongst the boulders in the front. These valiant little spreaders have done better in previous years, but given we lost an entire month of planting in June, they've done pretty well this year all things considered. Here's a luscious little yellow one (surrounded by dried Red Yarrow seed pods) still brightening up its spot in the garden.
If you've never grown Moss Rose, you should! It's a great self-seeding annual that really doesn't ask for much other than adequate water when it's getting established. But from then on, give it sun and pretty much any kind of well drained soil and it will thrive (sorry Gail, it's not real fond of clay). Just let it go when it frosts, because it cleans up after itself and will leave you seeds for next year's volunteers. Like Celosia, seedlings emerge relatively late (but they do!), so we always just buy a flat to plant to get going before the volunteers really get going. It's usually readily available in most garden centers and is pretty inexpensive. It excells in sandy, even gravelly soils, as long as it has plenty of sun to keep it blooming, and it's not unusual that we see some coming up by the sidewalk at the base of the rocks (along with a lot of other things). Once they bloom, they go pretty much non-stop throughout the hottest months of summer, so it makes an excellent companion to Celosia. (Ok, end of subliminal messaging on that plant, heh.)
This is a new plant for us ... it's a Mandevilla Vine (yet another tropical we'll have to winter over inside) that I bought on impulse when we saw them marked down back in July. We've still got to get it repotted in a bigger pot, but it's done pretty well over the summer nonetheless. We've never grown this before, so it's a bit of a mystery to us, and though we were somewhat disappointed when it first bloomed because it claimed to be Red ... then we discovered that the flowers change as they mature, and though they initially look pink, by the time they have been on a while, they indeed do change to a nice shade of red. I remember seeing a lot of these back when I lived in Florida (where the tropical hibiscus are hedges!) but I never took much interest in them then. It's funny that for a state that I absolutely loathed living in (for 6 years), I keep finding myself wanting to grow plants that are hardy there. But one thing I did appreciate about Florida was its flora and fauna (give it back to the Gators!), so perhaps that's not that odd after all.... Anyway, we're enjoying the Mandevilla experience and love the foliage almost as much as the blooms! I hope we can keep it happy indoors this winter, so it can really thrive in next year's summer container garden!
Ah, here's our old friend Datura meteloides, which we used to privilege with prime spots in the front garden, until it achieved total weed status. At this point we (or at least I do) just pull most of the seedlings that appear everywhere and let a few go on to bloom, because we really do like the flowers (as do many garden critters). I particularly like the pre-blooming unfurling of these flowers as depicted in this shot. The full flowers are lovely as well, and smell wonderful (unlike the plants themselves!) and attract all sorts of insects, from late browsing bees to Sphinx Moths who like to visit this other "Moonflower." (Not to be confused with the vining species.) Back a few years ago when we had numerous Four O'Clocks and Daturas along the Woodland Walk, we could count on seeing a cloud of Sphinx Moths descend upon them in the evening, something we've missed the past few years since we've not had much luck with Four O'Clocks ... but there's always next year!
Could this shot represent any better a harbinger of colder times to come this year? Yes, the holly berries are ripening by the minute, and though they last long into the winter, they are still a reminder of what's to come eventually. Since planting these 'Blue Princess' hollies nearly 10 years ago now, they have grown into some really impressive bushes in the Woodland Garden and never fail to give us a nice winter show with their berries that last for months on end (until the birds get desperate and start eating them). We really don't have much in terms of evergreens in the garden (unless you count the blue spruce in the back yard), and as much as I suffer through winter, these are very pretty when they have snow cover ... as long as we don't have ice storms (which really damaged them back in early 2007) they are the real interest in an otherwise rather dead looking garden. When it's cold outside and snow is really starting to get to us, we can always rely on the Hollies to remind us that greener times are still ahead, so if for no other reason, we're glad they're part of the garden!
And, as things continue to wind down for the season here, we're starting to reflect on what this season has been like overall ... though we had the big floods back in June, most of our perennials and self-seeding annuals have done pretty well despite it all. Everything got in rather late this year (and our spring was rather late as well), but in retrospect, we've had worse gardening years since we moved into Casa IVG 10 years ago. It's hard to predict what next year will bring (hello, folks, Climate Change is Real!), but so far the garden seems to be evolving fairly well.
Lest that sound pessimistic (I'm known for that), the Fat Flower hasn't sung her final aria yet, so until the big freeze comes, we look forward to more from our garden stalwarts until it does....
Following up on last night's post, I thought I'd post a couple of interesting shots of the "good" Datura, to illustrate the significant differences between the two ... this is the one we have been planting for years and it has clearly become our favorite, even if it does have weedy tendencies.
Datura inoxia or meteloides is another of the 'Angel's Trumpet' (or 'Devil's Trumpet' if you prefer), but most commonly known as 'Moonflower.' These two shots show some of the many permutations the nearly open buds can take ... they usually look like the star shaped one in the first picture, but sometimes assume other forms, such as in the second shot (which is another one that is growing in the cracks of the sidewalk).
The same sorts of caveats and dire weediness warnings I gave last night apply to this species as well, though it's by far the more attractive of the two and is a lot more tolerable in the garden if it gets a bit out of hand.
And, like D. stramonium, the same warnings about toxicity apply ... and if you're curious about what can happen if they're ingested, check out this link Olivia sent me last year. Datura Poisoning By Hamburger.. that should scare you off sufficiently!
Well folks, at this point, I think I've just about navigated to the end of denial river, and am beginning to bargain reluctantly with Fall, trying my best to enjoy the unique pleasures it does afford the melancholy gardener at this time of year. After all, we have enjoyed a fairly decent harvest of garden goodness from the tomatoes, corn, onions, leeks to the inadvertently planted pumpkins. As you can see, preparations for the grand Halloween season have begun (thanks to Fernymoss for picking up the slack while I was sick this past weekend) with the arrival of the Punkin Dude! Even though he's usually a harbinger of colder times to come, so far this year we've avoided a hard frost, though it's just a matter of time before it happens and all the remaining color in this part of the garden will be a mere memory until next year.... Still, we'll enjoy it until the bitter end, and I'd just like to point out a few flowers that can provide you with some late fall firepower until that moment comes.
I know I've sung the praises of Calendula officinalis previously, and here's yet another reason why I value this humble 'Pot Marigold' so highly ... just check out those fresh, cheery yellow and orange flowers blooming late into October! Just think ... this particular patch of Calendula has been blooming since June! What more could one ask of an easy self-seeding annual ... over five months of bloom time? If you want more, then you're a more demanding gardener than I am! They've been putting on seeds for a few months now, and though that usually means the end of most annuals, these lovelies just keep on blooming! And only a very hard frost will kill them and stop their show....
Here's a nice close up of an appropriately colored (for the season) Calendula cascading over the edge of one of the front boulders near the steps approaching our house. I'll repeat (ad nauseum) just one more time that I haven't replanted these Calendulas for about five years, and just scatter their seed after frost to ensure their reappearance next spring. If you're interested in growing these no fuss beauties, now (or very soon) is the time to plant them, once the ground has cooled (generally after a killing frost) and they're unlikely to germinate until the ground warms up next spring. Your only other option is to get them out very early in the spring, when, honestly, few gardeners are thinking about digging around in the dirt while it's still cold and lifeless (at least I don't care much for that activity). Sow them liberally where you want them to grow, perhaps raking up the dirt a bit just to cover them and let them winter in place, where they'll pop up in early spring and start to bloom in late May to early June through frost. As Ina Garten would say, How easy is that? Then just either let them fall in place after frost or break up the seedheads and fling them around an area where you'd like them to colonize and your work is done!
On a quick visit today, I saw that Gail is still enjoying her Celosia 'Caracas' down in Nashville, and I suspect that ours will succumb to the cold before hers, but now is a great time to be gathering seed, as the color recedes from the blooms (I'd better get busy doing this myself soon!). But they also provide some great colorful fall accents when everything else is looking pretty ratty, worn out and drab in the garden, and I've noticed that as the weather has inevitably cooled lately, the foliage is taking on an even deeper shade of red, changing along with the leaves on the trees as the season progresses, until they are soon snuffed out by a killing frost and their seeds will go dormant until early summer next year when we'll hopefully have many more popping up in this area....
This is a wider view of the area where 'Caracas' was planted near our stand of 'Porcupine Grass' (Miscanthus sinensis), and as you can see, both have been beaten down a bit by some of the heavy rains and windy storms we've had over the past few weeks. Normally, my inclination would be to stake up the Celosia a bit, but at this point in the season, we tend to just let Nature take her course and let things fall where they may ... besides, Halloween is nearly here and it just seems to add to the generalized spookiness the front garden takes on for the holiday, with its scattered bones and tombstones....
As I wandered around to the Woodland Garden after work today (when I took these photos in the late afternoon), I saw that the Daturas are still hanging in there and blooming away, so I had to pause and get a few shots ... Fernymoss remarked --for a reason that escapes me-- that this one was very 'Georgia O'Keefe.' Ok, I'll go against the grain here (bring out the pitchforks and torches) and say that I've never quite "gotten" the whole enthusiasm for her work. Yes, she did some pretty paintings of flowers, but honestly, her paintings usually just leave me cold. It's not that I don't like women painters (au contraire!), but give me some Remedios Varo or Frida Kahlo any day, because I find their work infinitely more fascinating than O'Keefe's. But I digress ... this is a lovely Datura bloom, isn't it?
Ah yes, the ever present, now weed status Zebrina Mallow, which became quite the pest in the corner boulder bed this year ... despite my aggressive hacking away at it a few months ago, I did allow a few well behaved plants remain (they are really pretty after all), and as you can see here, the cooler weather also has its effect on the late season blooms ... they become darker, bordering more on the magenta hue than their pure purple and white of the warmer months, and what's more, they often bloom past the 'bitter end' of a hard frost and only a hard freeze finally sends them packing for the year, after they've dropped their multitudes of seeds. But as you all know, I'm a really mallow kind of guy, so it's difficult for me to try to eradicate them completely, but then again, check back with me next spring as I labor plucking out all the unwanted ones....
Finally, believe it or not, the Castor ricinus 'Carmencita Rose' plants we grew in a big pot this year are actually setting on some seeds! Though these plants haven't reached full size (7-8 ft) because we grew them in a container, they have been blooming profusely lately, and we may just be able to collect some viable seed to save (are you interested, Marnie?) for next year. These seed pods are very strange, as you can see, and they remind me of some kind of sea anemone or sea cucumber, or one of those weird denizens of the deep. Of all the Castors one can grow, this is by far my favorite (although Zanzibariensis comes close), due to its striking architectural look and the brilliant bronzy foliage that positively glows in the late afternoon sun (of which we are sorely lacking these days). It's well worth planting as a specimen plant in the garden where you have an area you want to accent a striking plant (in full sun) that you won't see in just any garden. Then again, we kind of pride ourselves on being 'not just any garden,' for better or worse!
