The Many Moods of the Convolvulaceae

Since I've been writing a lot lately and posting pictures of the various vining plants we have here, I thought I'd provide a little background about the incredible diversity of our cultivated members of the convovulaceae family growing in our garden. From the common Morning Glory, to the increasingly popular "Sweet Potato Vine" to the more exotic looking "Spanish Flag" and "Cardinal Climber," and including the delightful "Bush Morning Glory," all of these varied vining type plants are members of the large genus of Convolvulaceae. Though the genus also comprises a good number of particularly vexing weeds ("Bindweed" is perhaps the most pernicious), there are many species who make colorful contributions to climbing situations in the garden, whether it be a fence or a trellis or in our case, an old jungle gym in the back yard. So I thought I'd just compile a short entry to re-introduce our favorites that are currently blooming their hearts out in our garden.

First off is Ipomoea quamoclit, or "Cardinal Climber" as it is most commonly known, another vigorous grower though its dainty, star-shaped flowers are perhaps the most diminutive of the familiy, rarely surpassing perhaps one inch in diameter. Its distinctive "ferny" foliage is somewhat deceptive, as it is anything but delicate ... in fact it's been over 4 years since we've planted these and they return every year, often in inconvenient spots, but we rarely have the heart to pull them up, because their flowers are so pretty and provide even more food for our friends the Hummingbirds, who are attracted by their bright red blooms. Give this one the right support and you will be rewarded with masses of flowers ... and the butterflies and hummingbirds will visit you, thanking you for providing them with sustenance.

Next up is the common Morning Glory (Ipomoea imperialis, v. "Grandpa Ott") which you may remember from a post a few weeks back. This gorgeous purple cultivar is second only to the "Heavenly Blue" in our esteem, and though the blues we planted this year mysteriously refused to show themselves, we have plenty of these currently gracing the fence along the sidewalk. Of course, as anyone who has ever grown Morning Glories knows, they self seed with a vengeance and can become as weedy as their more undesirable cousins ... but if something has to achieve weed status, you couldn't ask for a more sumptuous shade of purple!

Following Grandpa Ott, we have another shot of Mina Lobata ("Spanish Flag") that I got this afternoon ... if you're not yet familiar with its particulars, see my previous two posts concerning this exciting member of the family.

Fourth up is another you are probably familiar with from seeing it here recently, Convolvulus tricolor or "Bush Morning Glory," the smallest of the family members we have planted in the garden. This diminutive cousin of the Morning Glory never reaches more than 6-8 inches in height and tends to grow in a more clumping mass than twining as its larger cousins do. This particular variety, "Blue Ensign," is by far our favorite of the group, though it also can be found in varying shades of purple, pink and white. As with most of the convolvulaceae, cultivation is relatively simple, just lots of sun and soil that is not too fertile ... though we have found that you really need to get Convolvulus in the ground as early as possible to ensure a long bloom season, as it's a bit longer to get going than common Morning Glories. Give these cheerful flowers a sunny spot of their own, plant them en masse and enjoy the waves of blue while they last ....

And finally, perhaps one of the oddest members of the family, Ipomoea battata, aka: Sweet Potato Vine, has become an increasingly popular variety you can see planted ubiquitously in public plantings in cities, as well as individual gardens. What distinguishes this one so much from its cousins is the fact that it actually does produce a rather large tuber over the course of the growing season. We have dug them in previous years with the intent of replanting them in the spring, but unfortunately they tended to rot over the winter, though if you were able to successfully preserve the tuber, I'm sure that you could achieve success the following year by replanting it. I'm also told by some (though we haven't tried this) that you can root cuttings in the fall, pot them up and keep them in a sunny window over the winter and replant those in the spring. I might try that this year just for fun, but they're so common in garden centers that we usually just buy a few to plant each spring. Though not pictured here, we also plant a deep purple variety called "Blackie," which only differs from the green in color ... both are vigorous growers (as you can see here!) and by the end of the season they usually have trailed completely over the boulder wall and cascade down to the sidewalk.

A few general planting considerations for these vines ... don't ever EVER feed an ipomoea that you want to bloom! If you do, you will get huge leaves and virtually no flowers whatsoever. They prefer poorish soils with good drainage and bloom most proliferously when left to their own designs once they have become established. Most self seed profligately, so if you don't want them taking over, you'll need to be meticulous about collecting the seeds or removing spent flowers before they can set on seeds. If you don't mind them staking out their own territory (which we like along the fence, since we usually don't have to replant there) just let them go and dry up where they have grown over the course of the summer. Come spring, you will find them in abundance, so a ruthless thinning is a good thing to make sure that those you leave will develop most vigorously.

Bonus Zinnias (For Olivia)

Yes, I've been on the Zinnia flowerevangelism trail this week (and that's about the only kind of evangelism you'll find me engaged in!) with these super simple, über easy summer workhorses ... and I can't stress enough what a wonderful addition they make to any sunny border in the garden. Whether you plant them in rows, mass them in an area or just have a few here and there, Zinnias rightly deserve their place wherever you have a sunny spot for annuals. I've planted them amongst Cosmos 'bright lights' for several years now and they make a great companion for them ... or planted behind Balsam (Impatiens balsamina) ... pretty much anywhere you want fiery bursts of color in the sunny border.

This was the first year we had the inspiration to use them as a bit of a "hedge" around the tomato and pepper patches of the vegetable garden, and they have performed fantastically, even after having been beaten down by some heavy rains and winds. It's definitely a design element we plan to repeat in succeeding years, as we have not only got a colorful border around our favorite veggies, but a handy cutting garden as well! I've been cutting a few each time I go to harvest the tomatoes and peppers, and as I noted in my previous post, they quickly replace themselves!

Of course fire color lover that I am, I was particularly smitten with the red one at the top here, though I was also very taken by the cream colored one beneath it ... and surely Olivia will recognize which one made it in the mix for her delectation ... along with a bonus Monarch!

Enjoy! They're with us for a while longer ... as long as we can keep frost at bay ... and I'm hoping we'll be able to do that for some time yet ... even with low's in the 40's forecast for next week. As long as the frost stays away, the zinnias and our other colorful late summer bloomers will stay with us!

Mina Lobata, partie deux!

Yet another updated post on Mina lobata, which I introduced last week ... And in response to a few requests to show it in wider view, here are a few shots I also got late this afternoon. Unfortunately most of the ones I took were blurry due to the lively breezes at the time, I think these give a better impression of the overall effect this spectacular vine displays on the ugly old jungle gym in the middle of the vegetable garden ...

I've still not gotten the "perfect" shots of this plant yet, but wanted to put some wider views up while it's still in its glorious prime. It's hard to describe the colorful splash you get when seeing this from across the yard ... the best I can come up with right now is that in a sunny view, it looks as if multicolored spires emerge from a mass of deep green foliage ... then you get closer and can discern the gradations of color on the individual flowers ....

I'm really impressed with this plant this year and I'm already thinking of other areas where we could plant more of this come next year ... I'm just hoping that it's as generous as its cousins the morning glories in terms of producing lots of seeds and volunteering the following year. Alas, we'll have to wait a bit longer to find out ... but we're sure enjoying it right now!

Monarchs and Zinnias

This is a follow up post to one I wrote a few days ago, in which I exalted the humble zinnia for its foolproof ability to attract butterflies in droves ...
Ok, so these aren't exactly droves, but there were quite a few visiting the zinnias in the vegetable garden late this afternoon! Though if we look out the window at any given point in the day when it's sunny like today, we can pretty much be sure to see at least a few of these classic butterflies working the zinnias. And as with most butterflies, they're tough to catchin the act without frightening them away or just achieving lovely blurs of color ....

The Monarchs have been plentiful around here this year, which is always something we enjoy seeing, since we try to make our garden as friendly to them as possible ...

I hope you enjoy them at least a bit as much as we do right now, as the summer winds down into fall ... Sad to think that soon they will take wing and head south, so it's especially wonderful to still see them around in such numbers at this point.

With any luck, I'll have more to post soon!

Speaking of Anniversaries ...

At some point today, it occurred to me (what with all the 9/11 coverage all the time), that yesterday (9/10) was the 8th anniversary of us moving into our house! Though how we ended up here is an interesting story in and of itself, I'll save that for another time ... I can still remember moving things in that September of 98 and how excited we were to be moving into such a lovely old neighborhood.

Of course one of the first things we thought of was to start planting some things, but as it was fall we put that aside for the following spring, when we first started planting up the place in earnest ... and thankfully our landlady (from whom we eventually bought the house in 2000) had no problems with us putting in plants in the small bed that already existed at the front of the house. There wasn't much there ... just some yellow iris a bit of bee balm, some meadow sage and a few perennials we eventually dug up and disposed of in following years (mostly lamb's ear, invasive dead nettle, some non-aromatic oregano and hostas). I know that sounds heartless, but at that point we just didn't care for the generic things that were trying to take over the bed for which we had great intentions of making more colorful.

Spring of 1999 was when we started to let our imaginations go wild and we quickly filled the small bed with perennials and annuals ... which made us want even more space! What's more, I hated mowing that awful slope to the sidewalk you can see in the first picture. We did move out a bit further the following year, but since we didn't own the place yet (we were negotiating at that point) we were still being a bit careful about how much we dug up. But, once the sale was final in July of 2000, we started making plans to do away with the awful slope and building up some sort of retaining wall that would house a lot more flowers ... and we also started digging and planting on the north side of the house (the shade garden we call the "Woodland garden") as well.

In late 2002, we had a great stroke of luck thanks to our neighbor across the street. He had taken over a vacant lot on the corner and wanted to fill it in as a garden, and given that he is a lawyer who sometimes barters his services for in kind payment, he had just had a boulder border built around his lot and had a lot of them left over. He approached us about giving us some if we would help him get his lot planted up (this too is another long story best left for another time). So, in late November 2002, a guy came over with a bobcat and dumped a huge load of boulders and rocks in the front of our yard! There they stayed throughout the winter until the spring of 2003, when we got some help from friends in getting them placed where you see them now.

About 200+ bags of dirt and a few truckloads of donated dirt later, we got busy expanding our front boulder bed and we must have planted at least a hundred or so new perennials and annuals that spring and summer. (See the second photo, which was taken in early July of 2003, right after the boulder bed was built.) And the rest, as the saying goes, is history now. We're still working on the overall design of the front beds and have made some placement mistakes for some things, but as the transformation continues, we learn more from our mistakes. It's pretty full now, and with the additional hundreds of bulbs we planted last fall, we finally feel we are getting close to where we want it to be in terms of having year round interest. Of course, being the quirky gardeners we are, we are constantly tinkering with areas of the beds, trying to find the perfect combinations of plants ... that's the challenge and joy of working on our ongoing project. The conversion is by no means complete (when is a garden ever completely done??) but we're pretty happy with how it has turned out so far.

Note on the photos:
The first is undated, probably from around 1996-97; source is from the county assessor's website listing of the property.
The second is from July, 2003, right after the construction of the boulder beds.
I still need to take a wider shot of the front this fall to post here at a later date, but at least the older photo does give a sense of the dimensions of what we have done.

Cross Pollination Time ...

Borago Officianalis (Borage)

Well, folks, I've been at this blogging thing for about three months now here at Urban Oasis, and I'd just like to post an open forum for my visitors' comments and random musings. I'd appreciate feedback on what I've been doing here, no matter what's on your mind, I'd like to hear a bit about what my visitors think about the overall project of Urban Oasis. So drop me a comment or two on what you've liked (or not!), what you'd like to see more of, or even seed requests if you have found something that you liked over the past few months. Consider this, as they say on the BigDogBlogs, an open thread.

I began this project with an eye toward achieving one of my long time dreams ... to eventually write a book (a gardening primer if you will) showing how we've transformed our property over the past eight years here, and with the rather presumptuous aim of encouraging others to try their hand at it too... Transformative events take time, but they're also a very exciting learning process, and where gardening is concerned, there's always something new to be learned every day and every season as our floriferous friends work their way through their life cycles. Whether this book ever passes the gestation point and becomes a reality is still not clear at this point. But one thing is for certain: though I may be sporadic at posting sometimes (real life somehow seems to get in the way!), this project has kept me thinking and writing on a regular basis. And as every wannabe writer knows, this is the only way to achieve your dream of actually getting it all together in a way that may eventually find an audience ... so you, as my limited audience, can help me out in this respect by letting me know how I am doing.

I would be sorely remiss if I didn't thank a few people who have nudged me along the way as I got this blog going ... and have kept me at it the past few months. First, thanks to dada who first taught me how to post pictures over at Booman Tribune, where I have met a great group of gardening enthusiasts and truly wonderful friends. Then there's the inimitable Olivia, my dear blogmother who taught me new ways of getting up close and personal with my flowers, to astounding effect sometimes. If you aren't familiar with her amazing photography, I highly recommend that you head on over to her place and wish her a happy 1 year anniversary of her absolutely sumptuous blog! And finally, there's my dear, dear geezerly friend Family Man (my blogfather!) who with his wry wit, toe-tapping and gentle reminders keeps me coming back with new pictures and random musings on the flowerful things in life. To all of you, I offer my deepest thanks for all the encouragement and support you've given me over the past few months ... you'll never truly know how much that has all meant to me.

OK, the thank you speech is over, so give me my damn Oscar now!

Drop a comment if you wish ... you can even do it anonymously if you don't have a Blogger account. Thanks for visiting and come back often ...

A Get Well Soon Wish for Family Mom!

I was sad to learn this weekend that Family Man's mother (Family Mom) fell in their hotel room during a trip they made to Little Rock to visit a relative in the hospital there. Apparently she fractured her shoulder in the fall and also suffered some minor injuries to the face ... according to the last I read, she is recovering well, though a fall for anyone of her age is always a reason for some concern. I know, that with my hip injury from a few years ago, I dread such episodes myself, so it was even more distressing for me to hear about this episode.

So this is my small way of hoping I can cheer both of them up a bit with some saucy, bright Convolvulus from our front garden ... I hope their cheery yellow and white centers will brighten their day a bit and help put this unfortunate occurrence behind them!

Zinnias and Bumblebees!

Zinnias are one of my very favorite annuals to plant, and as anyone who has ever planted them surely knows, they are amongst the easiest of all flowers to grow successfully from seed. Whenever someone tells me something along the lines of Oh, I'd love to grow colorful flowers, but I'm just not good at it ... everything dies on me, I immediately bring up Zinnias.

They truly are THAT easy! And for those who have actually taken my advice and planted Zinnias, I have heard nothing but raves about the range of colors, sizes of flowers and the different shapes of the blooms. These particular examples are a mix called "State Fair Favorites" that I found this year while seed shopping ... they're a larger variety that seems to be topping out at about 3.5-4.0 feet tall, with a range of colors from magenta, red, to yellows and oranges ... with a few pink thrown in just for Olivia (though I must admit that pink Zinnias are probably my least favorite color they exhibit). The most common flower styles range from the "California Giants" types (such as above) with their dahlia like blooms ... to the "Cactus Blooming" variety which has more feathery, almost Spider Mum-like blossoms. But no matter what variety you may choose to plant, they are sure to delight you from July to frost ...

Here are a few planting hints and notes on Zinnias ...

1. Wait until the ground has thoroughly warmed in the spring before you plant. In our area, I usually wait until about late May or early June to plant them, as they require the soil to be fairly warm before they germinate. You can start them indoors in pots, however, I find that transplants don't seem to flourish as well as those planted in situ, and honestly, I can't justify all the extra effort it would take to start them indoors! They germinate so quickly (generally within a week) and grow so quickly, I think they're best planted where they will grow.
2. Give Zinnias as much full sun as you can and they will positively leap out of the ground and begin blooming within about a month and a half ... which makes them perfect for huge splashes of color when many perennials are already done. They're not picky about soil, but do make sure they are planted in well-drained soil where they won't be susceptible to root rot from too soggy a soil.
3. Keep in mind that Zinnias are hot and dry weather lovers ... another feature that is extremely attractive for those of us who have those long, hot dry spells in July and August ... the exact time of the summer they will begin blooming for you!
   
4. They don't really have many pests (though rabbits did nibble on some of ours earlier this summer and grasshoppers may sometimes attack them as well), and are also relatively disease free. They are, however, susceptible to Powdery Mildew, which is a result of too humid weather ... it gives the leaves gray patchy spots that though unattractive, will rarely kill the plant. You can also avoid this by only watering them at the base (if need be), as water which accumulates on the leaves also encourages the mildew.
5. And finally, this is the mantra you should always adopt with Zinnias: Cut and Come Again! The more you cut for the vase inside, the more the plants will branch and become bushier, producing even more blooms in as little as a week or so in prime warm weather! They are a truly guilt-free cut flower that never fails to brighten a room with their sassy fire colors ... Just think, the investment of $1-2 worth of seeds will give you dozens of plants, each of which will, given the right conditions described above, reward you amply until frost.
6. One last note ... though we are avid seed collectors, we never collect Zinnias, and the reason is quite simple ... they do not return true to form from the previous years. If you choose to collect seeds, you will most likely get mere pale pink blooms that revert to a wilder version of the flower, not at all like those you can get by always planting fresh seed.
   

So, if you're not converted now and itching to plant these next year, let me just also conclude by saying that Zinnias are sure-fire bee and butterfly magnets! On any given afternoon, we can gaze out toward this patch (planted around the periphery of the vegetable garden in the back) and count on seeing many Monarchs and other butterflies eagerly visiting them ... and when you get up close, as I did a few nights ago, you can catch the bees at work ...

Mina Lobata

So here we are, Labor Day has passed, so put away your white shoes lest Serial Mom come after you and bludgeon you senseless, even if your name does happen to be Patricia Hearst! It's that inevitable winding down time for outside activities, and if your last few weeks have been like ours have, you're getting regular, steady rains ... ours, unfortunately, keep happening on the weekends, which has kept us from getting much done in the garden. Sure, we continue to harvest tomatoes, the hot peppers are producing like crazy and we can't keep up with all the fiery goodness they've been giving us of late. And, as we watch sadly as most of the flowers fade, thoughts start turning toward the inevitable fall and winter months ... first will come Halloween, the most festive time of year at our house ... then the cold rains that will transition into snow ... yet another stage in the continuing garden cycle ...

But, there's still a lot of life left out there as well! Tonight's post is an example of a vine that has just recently come into its own, showering us with dramatic sprays of multicolored flowers ... this, my friends, is Mina lobata, or "Spanish Flag," a member of the large family of Ipomoea vines (which includes Morning Glories, Sweet Potato vine, Cardinal Climber and lord knows what other species we just don't know about or have in the garden).

Mina lobata was a flower I knew nothing about before this spring, when I spotted a pack of these seeds and was intrigued by the photo on the packet (as I am sure many of us have been seduced this way into planting something). And as I read further, the promise of lovely sprays of flowers starting a creamy white, then fading into orange and eventually red clinched the sale for me! I haven't been disappointed, and hope that these will have time to produce seeds we can collect for planting next year ... if not, I'll be on the lookout for more ...

I planted these at the south base of the old jungle gym (remnants of past owners' children) that sits smack in the middle of our vegetable garden in late May, and they were very quick to germinate and emerge. The first true leaves were a bit of a surprise, as they look exactly like smaller, though darker green, versions of one of our annual favorites, Ipomoea battata (ornamental Sweet potato vine) ... at that point, all I had to do was to be patient until they climbed up and over the rungs and wait for the blooms to appear!

Well, they started blooming in late August and show no signs of slowing down until the weather cools and the sun becomes more scarce ... Though they're not as immediately dramatic as their cousins the Morning Glories, Mina lobata definitely does add an unusual punch of late summer color wherever it's planted. Yes, you do have to get up a little closer to examine them, but isn't that what we die hard gardeners enjoy the most? Getting up close and personal with the flowers as they complete their cycle ... watching wondrously how they mature into blossom and give us their thanks for nurturing them over the summer ... And for a species previously unknown to us, it was an even more exciting cycle to observe ... definitely one we hope to repeat in years to come, whether these examples produce seed of their own this year, or we have to plant anew next year!

Sometimes It's All About Texture

I was thinking tonight about how there are few things left in the garden that haven't bloomed yet this summer ... yes, the toad lilies are yet to spring into flower, but they're the pleasantly rare exception at this point in the season, which is what makes them such a valuable addition to the shade garden. More on those when they start blooming, so be patient ....

Well, all that pondering led me to do a big old "D'OH!" when it occurred to me that there are many largely under-appreciated plants we put in the garden, just for purposes of adding texture to the overall design. Of course, there are the usual architectural or purely textural plants one might consider .... such as ornamental grasses (Miscanthus "Porcupine Grass" and Festuca Glauca "Blue Fescue" come to mind immediately), but there are a host of other ornamentals that deserve the spotlight for their valuable contributions to the perennial garden. So let's take a look at three tonight, each with its own particular virtues which recommend them to the well-rounded (well, at least we like to think so!) perennial border.

First up is Flowering Kale, a member of the Brassica or cabbage family of plants. Though we haven't planted these often in the past few years, they are wonderful examples who really excel in the late summer months right up until frost. They blend their familiar shade of cabbage-y grey with delicate shades of purple throughout to introduce a most welcome cooler hue into the garden when other plants have bloomed and gone ... and as the weather cools down with the arrival of fall, they truly spring into intense color which lasts as long as temperatures stay above freezing. Once frost arrives, they may linger a bit longer, ramping up their colors briefly before they melt into a rather unattractive pile of goo. The one pictured here is a new one we found this year called Red Peacock, and if the picture on the stake is accurate, we can still expect an intense flush of scarlet to appear in the center of the plant later this fall.

Though Kale is generally just considered an ornamental garden plant, it is indeed edible, as are most (if not all) of the Brassicas (which of course include all the cabbages, broccolis and brussel sprouts). But as a specimen plant, it definitely deserves a place of honor in the garden, somewhere it can shine before all is said and done when the freezes come in late fall. They are easy to grow, don't seem to have any obvious pests and require little attention other than being placed in a very sunny spot, watered occasionally and left to their own designs. You can also see, in the background of this shot, some of the Celosia sports (more forthcoming, I promise!) as well as the chartreuse version of Sweet Potato Vine (Ipomoea battata), which has really come into its own the last few weeks.

The second picture is Silver Mound, a member of the Artemisia (Wormwood) family. I can't begin to praise this humble --and rather common-- textural perennial enough. As if any garden didn't deserve several specimens of Artemisia species, this one is the absolute must have in my opinion. It has a wonderful mounding growth habit that makes it perfect for filling in tough spots in the garden (such as at the base of the boulders in the front garden here). It also just plain feels delightful to the touch ... with its light and feathery grey-green foliage ... and it has a very pleasant herby fragrance to it as well, as do most of the Artemisias. (Yes, that's the family of plants who give us Artemisia absinthium, producer of the forbidden ingredient of Absinthe, that extracted substance known as Thujol.) Silver Mound, despite its common origins is an excellent choice for sunny spots with poorish soil, because it thrives on neglect for the most part and is quite happy to stake out its spot, adding yet another cooler hue to the summer garden ....

And finally, we have one of my favorite discoveries of the last ten years or so, Sea Holly (Eryngium maritimum). I couldn't write this post without including at least one shot of this most unusual of plants ... something that deserves more exposure in the perennial garden! Though it looks rather spiny and prickly, it is anything but painful to touch ... in fact, the bracts composing the blooms of this plant are really rather pleasant to the touch. If you look closely at this shot, you'll see a bumblebee hard at work ... and that's one of the more interesting aspects of Sea Holly, namely that it attracts a host of beneficial bees and wasps with its thistle-like blooms. These are the kinds of insects you want in your garden, as they prey on more destructive pests who would like to lay waste to your vegetables and other flowers. And the ethereal hazy gun-metal blue of the blooms at their maturity brings a unique hue to the garden in mid-summer (this picture was taken in July). They're tough plants that self-seed generously (we always have plenty to give away come spring), grow well in any sunny spot (though sometimes they need a bit of staking when they bloom profligately, as ours did this year). Given a prominent spot toward the front of the border, they always prompt questions as to what they are, and most people tend to assume it's some sort of thistle run amok, though that could hardly be further from the truth .... At some point I plan on highlighting this beauty in more detail, but for now, I had to include it in this grouping of plants that qualify as worthy textural garden elements.

As those who know me can attest, for the most part I'm all about the flowers, but even the most bloom-obsessed among us do need to step back at times and contemplate the quiet beauty that less "flashy" plants can offer us in the overall scheme of the garden ... precisely why I ended up at this point tonight in my garden musings ... yes, there's more flash to come, but at this point in the waning summer days, I felt compelled to give these guys a shout out of their own.

Little Birdy ...

As Ween sings that classic song on Pure Guava, I'll let them entitle this quick post tonight for me ...

Here's the thing: we like to pride ourselves on providing habitat for various sorts of birds, insects and critters in our garden, in the hopes of giving something back to nature as we attempt to make our little urban corner wilder, at least in terms of the flora. And we try not to neglect the fauna, in fact, we aim to give them something back as well, so that our mere city corner can regress to a small microcosm of what the state once was when the native flowers and grasses held sway ....

So, it was with immense delight that we recently discovered that a pair of Goldfinches (the Iowa state bird, by the way!) have taken to feeding in our front garden in the early evenings! Even though certain flowers such as Echinacea purpurea and Monarda don't look so attractive once they've finished blooming, we allow them to complete their cycles so that they not only reproduce, but also provide food for the birds. One year we actually allowed a thistle to bloom in the front just to provide food for the goldfinches ... well, yes the goldfinches came around but we spent the following spring digging up innumerable thistles and cursing their prickly selves. Well, the thistles are gone (though they are lovely, we have to admit ... we're just not willing to have them taking over again), and the goldfinches are working the coneflowers to their hearts' content.

These are some pictures I took last week, and though they're not up to the close up quality that I prefer (Olivia has made me such a snob! Gotta love her!), they are as close as I could get at this point. So ... I've decided to go out after work when they seem to come by and just let them get used to me so I can get even closer and perhaps get some better pictures. These are of the female, who appears to be less shy than the male, since she let me get the closest to her and is actually looking straight at me in a couple of the shots. These three shots show her feeding on the echinacea seeds, as well as perching on a branch of a Castor ... I hope you can appreciate these as much as I do, given that I took about 40 shots that night and just a few actually caught her in the act.

We also have some late summer hummingbirds coming around now too ... we saw them perching on the clothesline in the back yard on Friday, and, given that the Bee Balm is producing a bit of a late summer re-bloom, they are coming around in front ... they also seem to really like the "Black and Blue Salvia" we have out there, which makes total sense, given its trumpet like blooms, though even if they are blue, do attract the hummingbirds. I'll know that I've really arrived as a garden photographer when I can get a successful picture of a hummingbird ... it hasn't happened yet, so don't go holding any breaths or tapping toes at this point. If it happens, you'll be the first to see it here, but given their skittish nature, I'm not confident that will happen just yet ... Olivia will probably be the first one to do that, and I'll be first in line to clap, scream and otherwise applaud when she pulls that one off!

Late Summer Nocturnal Apparitions

Watch out Tokyo!

No, it's not really Mothra, but these fantastical moths sure give her a run for her money even if they are her lesser American relatives! And though they could hardly carry even small human passengers like the legendary Mothra, they do manage to bring a lot of magic and drama to a late summer's evening when they arrive to dine on the nectar of certain night blooming flowers. And even if we haven't yet seen these White lined Sphinx Moths (Hales lineata) appear yet this year, we're still holding out hope they will yet make their appearance in the evening garden. This may be an off year for the sphinxies, as we don't have the usual Four O'clocks (Mirabilis jalapa or "Marvel of Peru") growing in abundance as we have in past years. After all the digging and replanting in the area where they once grew, for some reason this year we haven't had the typical abundance of volunteer plants. And alas, the new seeds I did plant this year didn't come up for yet another odd reason unbeknownst to me. I guess it just wasn't our year for Four O'clocks!

Sphinx moths are positively drawn to deep throated night blooming flowers who offer an ample feast of nectar for these industrious beauties, so supplying them with numerous specimens of Four O'clocks, Moonflowers and other nectar laden flowers is almost sure to draw them to your garden in the early evening hours just before dusk and later ....

We did a little research tonight on these magnificent little guys (well, they're not that little, they are usually about 2.5 - 3.0 inches long with a similar wingspan) and here's what we found out:

Their natural habitat ranges from southern Canada (yes, Olivia, you must have them somewhere!) to Central America and from the Atlantic to Pacific oceans. Basically, just about anywhere in the U.S.

The larval stage is often called a green "Horned worm" which can sometimes be found on tomatoes, upon which they apparently are known to feast. Other food for the caterpillars includes common portulaca (aka: purslane), chickweed and other leafy green plants commonly found in most gardens and yards.

Given that they take wing in mid-summer, we surmised that they must mate in the fall, lay their eggs, which then overwinter until the larvae emerge as caterpillars sometime in the spring. Though there are a lot of icky green worms that you can find on your tomatoes, if you find a largish green one with pronounced horns and two red spots on either side of the head, consider sparing it, as you may later be rewarded with the magical adults later in the summer. We don't seem to find them on our tomatoes, but given when they must be in the larval stage, I think they must feed on other things in our yard ... and it does make sense that you would be more likely to find these on your tomatoes in a more southern climate where they are planted much earlier than we do here in Zone 5.

When I was kid, I often mistook these wondrous moths for hummingbirds, and it's not an uncommon mistake, given how they hover over their food and take flight at the slightest disturbance. There is, however, a species called Clear Wing Hummingbird Moth which I recently saw HERE on FarFetched'sTales From Far Manor site. Thanks for reminding me of the magical beauty of these large moths, Far! I knew I'd eventually get around to posting about our Sphixies, but you got me digging for the materials and got me thinking about them again ... late summer pleasure that they are when they choose to visit and bring their magical drama to a garden near you ....

And for you MOTHRA fans out there, here's a fun link to her oeuvre.
If you're a diehard Mothra fan as I am, you'll find she has been quite the resiliant moth after all these years, despite her rattier look in the late 1960's, she's still a beauty in my eyes! Enjoy ....

Dog Days of Summer Potpourri

Well here it is, yet another Monday, and it's been a while since I posted anything new. And given that I'm still capturing pics for the long-promised Summer Sports series and mulling it all over in my head, I thought I'd just put up a late summer potpourri of things going on around the IVG garden spaces instead. I'm sure that Family Man would agree that some pics are better than no pics, so here we go ...!

First off , for you morning types, we have a couple of shots of Grandpa Ott Morning Glories (ipomoea sp.), a beautiful purple variety I really like. (P4 are you digging these??) Yet another example of how I love to work purple into the garden wherever I can ... and though C is disappointed that so far we have not seen any of the Heavenly Blues we usually plant, I've not given up hope that they will appear sometime soon on the fence. FM, this is an especially 'geezerly' variety, since they require little attention and the only way you can truly mess these up is by feeding them or planting them in too rich a soil. Rule #1 of growing morning glories is to never feed them! If you do, you will be delighted to see absolutely huge leaves, but absolutely no flowers! The same rule of thumb also goes for Cosmos and Nasturtiums ... the poorer the soil and more neglect you give them once they are established, the more they will bloom profligately for you! Notice the ethereal glow emanating from the centre of the second shot ... I was trying to play with the light when I took these and this one rewarded me with one of those Come into the light! type effects ... yeah, I'm easily amused when it comes to photos of our flowers.

Next up on the Sunday browse around the garden is a "Harlequin" Caterpillar ... we've seen a lot of these furry little guys coming around of late, and though we're not quite sure what they'll grow up into (and we suspect they will overwinter, since we're not accustomed to seeing caterpillars this late in the season), we have embraced them and hope they flourish in our garden. Why? Well if you're astute, you might notice that he's feeding on a particularly noxious vine known as "bindweed" around these parts ... it grows everywhere, particularly in the hottest, driest periods and will strangle almost anything in sight unless you can keep it at bay ... which, like many garden pests, is a crap shoot at best. Needless to say, we're delighted that these caterpillars have taken on the task of eating their way through the stuff, so no matter what they metamorphose into, we're glad to welcome them to our garden!

For those who are regular visitors to this site, our next luscious specimen should be no stranger ... another example of the Hibiscus sp. "Brilliantissima" that has made previous appearances here. There were five blooms open today, and given the sunny conditions we had (not to mention the absolutely perfect late summer weather!), I decided to try my hand at some more light catching experiments with this stalwart bloomer ... I ran these by Olivia and asked her for her favorite, so here it is ... make sure to enlarge the photo and revel in the decadent detail of the pollen and the anthers on this bloom ... Of all the photos I take of our flowers, I think I like shooting Hibiscus the best because they are so naturally photogenic, and just varying angles and the time of day of the photo, it seems one can capture the truly magical aspects of these transitory one day flowers ... Obviously, I'm irretrievably hooked on Hibiscus, but for sheer intensity of hue and exotic tropical appearance, I can think of few other flowers that can begin to rival them.

Now for the inevitable "Pink Corner." Though we've tried to eliminate these pink Morning Glories from the fence, we inevitably fail, and they continue to volunteer from a mix of seeds we planted years ago ... much to C's dismay, they return every year, though I've softened a bit in my attitude about them, since they do display a nice shade of red in the "star" area of the bloom, so if for no other reason than to make Olivia swoon in delight, I had to include an example.

And finally, one of my other favorites (ok, so I quit counting how many "favorites" I have!) is a fiery orange Nasturtium. In the past few years, I've slacked a bit on how many of these lovely edible blossoms I've planted, and every year I vow to plant them everywhere, but as gardens are wont to go, sometimes that just doesn't happen. This one has just recently begun to bloom, and I hope it will work its magic right up until frost, which if conditions are right, they usually do ... spilling out from where they are planted, crawling around sinuously, and perfuming the afternoon air with their subtle, yet spicy aroma. It's hard for me to leave them alone, because I love the flavor of them so much ... which is another reason to plant many of them in your garden (see #1 Rule cited above!) so you can have enough to enjoy their sheer beauty as well as pick them to grace your salads or just as a pretty garnish on a summer dish you may be serving. Nasturtiums have a slight peppery flavor to them, which for those so inclined to such tastes, cannot be rivaled. The entire plant is eminently edible, however, the leaves are much stronger, so if you're not especially fond of their slightly "hot" flavor, perhaps the blossoms are best enjoyed instead.

If you have Nasturtiums in your garden and have never eaten them, here's one way I love to enjoy them. A few years ago we had a bumper crop of both yellow and red Roma tomatoes, and I liked to make a salad with them by slicing them into thin rings, arranging them on a salad plate, then sprinkling a light chiffonnade of fresh basil and dressing them with balsamic vinegar, then topping the whole plate off with a few freshly picked Nasturtiums. Now that's a delicious way to begin a meal on a balmy summer evening, followed by grilled meat from the grill and some fresh sweet corn grilled along with the meat ... follow that with some fresh fruit or a peach sorbet, and you have one light, healthy meal that will instantly lodge itself in your mind as the quintessential summer repast. At least in my world, that conjures up images of a nearly perfect way to end the weekend! And when the romas are more plentiful in the next few weeks, and as the Nasturtiums bloom more proliferously, you can count on us doing exactly that.

Once again, sorry to be lax again in my postings, but given the hectic past few weeks around here, and the influx of more rain than we really wanted the past week or so, it's rewarding to see that despite the weeds, we are getting our floriferous rewards after all.

So as my hero Keith Olbermann would say, I'll end this entry by echoing ... Keep your knees loose. And good night, and good luck! Happy gardening, and enjoy the late summer bounty, my friends!

Late Night Drive By Sport ....

Here's another one of the Celosia sports I've been talking about in previous posts ... my apologies for not yet writing the piece I really want to do about them, but I got a little sidetracked in my writing tonight, as the following post will demonstrate. This one is a fairly regular visitor to the garden, and I can pretty confidently attest to its origins. This odd little guy is clearly a cross between Celosia plumosa v. New Look and a dwarf version Celosia cristata v. Jewel Box.

I mistakenly bought and planted the Jewel Box variety a few years ago, thinking it was a larger version, and it refuses to give up its spot in the garden. New Look is a relatively new, compact (12-14") variety with lovely red foliage that we always plant every year, just to make sure we have the real thing around in the garden.

With any luck, I'll get some better pics of these guys this weekend and elaborate on them a bit more at length. There are more wonders to be seen from the realm of Celosia, so just be patient and stop in again!

Portrait of the Gardener As a Young Boy

I guess I'm in a bit of a nostalgic and sentimental mood of late ... perhaps it's been the brilliant full moon, with its oddly autumnal hue of red that we've seen the past few nights, or my somewhat morose reflections on the occasion of my birthday a couple of weekends ago .... For whatever reason, I kept thinking about this photo that my sister found and gave me a few years ago ... this is me, at about age seven, I think, with Spike, my first dog. My parents had gotten me a beagle when I was about four, but Pixie (who I barely remember, other than she excelled at biting me) was quickly dispatched to "a farm where she would be happier," and though I cried at her leaving, my parents assured me it was for the best and that I would get another dog. Well, it took a few years, but then somehow my Dad heard about a litter of Fox Terrier puppies someone had in an adjacent small town, and one day we went there to see if we could find an appropriate puppy for me. Well, there was this one, a scrawny little guy with a half black, half white face who seemed rather calm compared to the other livelier puppies running around the yard ... my Dad and I instantly agreed that he was the one for me, and we took him home.

We almost lost Spike within a week or so, as he hadn't had any shots yet, he was full of worms and then developed a very nasty case of distemper. My Dad took him to the vet and we got the de-worming pills he needed, but learned that he already had the distemper, which at the time, they could do nothing for, and it very often killed infected puppies. I was crushed, as I recall, because I was sure that the cute little guy who was my dog was going to die. But my Dad also had fallen in love with Spike and he told me we'd do whatever we could to work him through the distemper and that not all dogs died from it, but that he would be very sick for a while. We kept him in a wooden fruit crate lined with old blankets and throw rugs right next to the heat vent in the kitchen, fed him whatever he would eat and did our best to nurse him through the illness. About all I remember is that he was very listless, coughed constantly and had a runny nose and eyes ... but each day, it seemed (at least to me), he appeared to get a little better.

Eventually, after some time (I can't remember how long, but it seemed like weeks to me!), he recovered from the distemper and we had a feisty, active and very ornery puppy on our hands. I was delighted, because I had a best friend finally, and he was all mine. Spike was a typical terrier his first few years ... he enjoyed tearing things up, causing a lot of mischief, ran away from home at every chance he got, and even managed to father a litter or two of puppies of his own. But oddly enough, he never quite bonded with me, much to my chagrin. He adored my Dad and would do anything for him, while ignoring my pleas for attention, though he was never overtly mean to me ... he just favored my Dad, as can be typical with terriers. So, I accepted my lower position in his worldview and I still adored him, even if he was a bit indifferent to me ....

About two years later we were visiting my sister when she was living in my parents' home town when she brought home an adorable beagle-fox terrier mix puppy. As she was just recently married and living in an apartment, she found out that she just couldn't keep the new puppy while she lived there, so my parents very reluctantly agreed to keep her with us until she had a place where she could have her. (And of course that never happened!) Snoopy (as I would eventually name her) was the antithesis of Spike ... she adored me from the get go and bonded with me almost instantly. My earliest memory of her was falling asleep with her in the back seat of the car on the journey home and awaking to find that she had gotten sick and thrown up on the seat beside me as we slept. I didn't care. This dog was truly mine! Fortunately, Snoopy got along famously with Spike from the beginning and they made excellent companions for each other, though quite the opposites. Where Spike was dominant and somewhat overbearing, Snoopy was submissive, obedient and only wanted to please. Finally, I had the kind of dog who would play with me, sleep with me (though that was forbidden by my parents, I sneaked her into bed anyway), and obviously thought I was the greatest boy around. She never minded if I cried my eyes out holding her when someone had tormented me at school, and she truly seemed to understand me and feel for me during the whole of my miserable experience of living in and going to school in an intolerant little redneck town in rural Iowa. In short, she was my lifeline to love given freely, honestly and only as a dog can give it ... unconditionally.

I could write a book about these dogs, and maybe one day I should, but suffice to say, where my Dad had Spike, I had Snoopy, and this pair of dogs made living there a lot more tolerable. When I went away to college, Snoopy used to sneak up to my room every chance she got and my mom would find her sleeping on my bed, exactly where she used to when I disobeyed and sneaked her into my room at night. And when I came home from school on breaks, she would not let me out of her sight, and apparently (according to my mom) cried for days after I would leave. She eventually developed severe diabetes and had to be put to sleep while I was away at school. That was a very hard time for me, as it is for anyone who has lost a dog or pet they truly love. And apparently, Spike started declining and pining away for Snoopy after she was gone, and shortly after, he developed testicular cancer and had to be put to sleep as well ...and my parents never again had a dog in their house. My Dad buried both of them side by side under an old lilac bush in the back yard. And to be honest, as much as I loathed that town I grew up in and have visited only against my will in the intervening years, I would one day like to go back to that house and visit them back there ... that is, if the lilac itself still exists. I have no idea if it does, but that would be perhaps the only motivation for me to ever return there ....

I suppose it seems that this post has very little to do with gardening, other than you can see some of the flowers I used to help my Dad tend on the south side of my childhood home. You see, Dad was the one who planted the gardening bug in me ... every year he would order his vegetable and flower seeds from Gurney's in Yankton, ND, and they always had a one-cent Kids' Surprise Pack of seeds that he would order for me. It was a little packet of seeds that to receive rivaled Christmas in the wonder of what might eventually come from these (to my childhood view at least) miraculous little things that came in the brightly colored pack with the picture of a cartoon child with a trowel and watering can on the front.

My Dad tilled up a little bed for me by the steps at the back of the house and that was where I had my first garden. I would take my precious seeds, plant them carefully (with my Dad's guidance, since these packs often contained things such as corn or beans, as well as flower seeds), tend them diligently and marvel at the green shoots that would burst from the ground, much to my delight. That's how I remember planting my first flower seeds, things such as Four O'Clocks, Balsam, Zinnias and Marigolds. When they bloomed for me, I was ecstatic! For my young, inquisitive mind, these first attempts at gardening made me feel a real connection with the earth, something that I still feel to this day ... There's a lot to be said for tending the earth and making things grow from it. That's the precious lesson my Dad taught me with those packets of seeds. I owe my Dad for a lot of good things he taught me over the years, but the joy of gardening is definitely the most important one I keep close to my heart and cherish. Though he's been dead for 23 years now, I think he'd actually be proud of me now for carrying on the gardening tradition in our family.

And I must say that I often think of him when I'm planting seeds. And I've never forgotten those Kids' Packs of seeds from Gurney's. I've heard that that nursery doesn't exist anymore, but it always will in my heart. My Dad really cashed in big time on those one cent packs of seeds ....

Kopper King, Meet Lord Baltimore!

Since I'm not ready yet to put up my Summer Sports Partie 3 post yet, I thought I'd just give you all another taste of the ongoing Hibiscus show going on around here.... so tonight I'd like to introduce Lord Baltimore, a stately Hibiscus moscheutos variety that is one of my favorites. In terms of growing habit, it's one of the taller varieties, often reaching 6-7 feet high, with fewer blooms than some other varieties, but the red is so brilliant, you have to forgive him for being a bit stingier than his cousins.... But in any case, for the right sunny spot in the garden, you can't go wrong with Lord Baltimore, and the nice thing is, it seeds readily, and you can always start new ones if you collect them when the pods are ripe enough and pop open. From what I know, this is one of the older, more common varieties, but it's a classic. If you only have one or two Hibiscus in your garden, this should take its place along with Kopper King, the other one pictured on this page. I wanted to post this particular picture because it shows how they cluster and can produce multiple blooms at the same time.

In any case... that's all for now, but I'm working on getting the Celosia sports post worked out in my head and will have it up very soon... there's just one pesky one that I can't get a clear shot of (due to wind mostly) that I want to include, and that shot may come today, weather willing! Stay tuned....

One more for Olivia ...

Because you know why, and thanks for being such a kind and supportive friend and fellow traveler!

I fully expect you will find room for Kopper King in your garden when you do the big re-design! Pictures don't begin to describe how beautiful these are ... and hardy and tough! Just like my dear friend in Ottawa who has coaxed the Pink outta me, LOL.

And then... there's Convolvulus "Blue Ensign" to think about for next year!

I know, the pics are reversed, but I'm sure you won't mind.... So, enjoy, and I'll be talking sports again very soon! And those who know me, know very well it won't be about NASCAR or anything like that!

G'night!

Summer Sports, partie 2

This is just a teaser for another post coming soon ... P4 asked about my Celosia sports over at Olivia's place the other day, and I finally got some decent pics yesterday of a few of them. So here's one to tide my friends over until I can do a decent write up of what's going on with these plants... Suffice to say, they self seed generously every year and surprise us with interesting variations each year, some more interesting than others, but this one seems to capture the essence of how freely they cross pollinate and re-emerge as something familiar, yet oddly different. Best estimation I can give for this one is that it's a sport between Celosia plumosa Yellow Spires and a Celosia cristata ("cockscomb" variety)... but who knows? We just let them do their thing and wonder what the next season will bring.... I'll have more (pics and commentary) on these later...

mmm..... Tomatoes!

Well, it's been a while (again!) since I've posted something here, so I thought I'd do a quick one before I head to bed and put up some pics I've had for a few days now ... not as exciting as Hibiscus or Sports, but for an Iowa gardener, this is what we live for! (Well, there's the sweet corn too, but that's just now hitting the streets in force.) This is the first tomato from the garden this year, and though the pics aren't exactly new --and the subject was eaten a while back-- it's a moment of excitement around here!!

This tomato appears to answer the ages old debate about whether it's better to plant big plants in the spring to get earlier tomatoes, or just take your chances with the little ones most of us plant. Well, this one is a new variety of Celebrity that I found this year... a "Bush variety" (I know... nasty name!) that supposedly only grows to about 24" but produces regular sized fruit. It was sizeable when I put it in, and true to form, it was the first to produce edible fruit! This was taken about a week and a half ago, and has long since been eaten (and it was good!), so due to my slackatude, only now is appearing here... I picked about 5 more yesterday from this and other vines, and they are awaiting BLTude coming very soon! (Probably today.)

You tomato growers know what this means ... can salsa days be far behind? Only my peppers know at this point, and they are not doing well this year due to the excessive heat. Hopefully I can muster up enough peppers to round out a batch at some point!