Uvularia grandiflora – Large-flowered bellwort, Merry-bells

Spring is a busy time when it comes to wildflowers – lots of species start flowering almost at the same time, especially when the springtime gets condensed in a couple of months. While I try no to discriminate, some will be overlooked for now and I will highlight just a few; for example would be hard to ignore the Merry-bells! They start to flower at the same time, or a bit after Trillium grandiflorum, depending how shady the location is.

Uvularia grandiflora - just starting to flower

Uvularia grandiflora

Unlike some other wildflowers, Uvularia grandiflora is not a stranger for the cultivated woodland garden. Although not that popular as it should be, it is appreciated for its elegant habit and clusters of pendulous yellow flowers with twisted tepals, always ringing loudly for attention.

Uvularia grandiflora flower close up

Uvularia grandiflora flower close up

More than this, it is an important food source in the spring, providing nectar and pollen for bumblebees, mason bees and other bee species. It will grow to form a nice, tight clump in a few years, so it can be used solitary although it looks fantastic in large groups.

Note: Another native bellwort – Uvularia sessilifolia has smaller flowers and non-clasping leaves.

Trilix (Latin) = having a triple thread

If nothing else about wildflowers, one image can still thrill anyone  – the white carpeting of the woodland floor when Trillium grandiflorum is flowering; in southern Ontario sometime from late April to May.  Unfortunately, our car committed suicide, so I took this picture close to home in a remnant neighbourhood forest. You’ll just have to imagine this small patch of Trillium multiplied by hundreds, as it happens in the wild wooded areas.

Trillium grandiflorum

Trillium grandiflorum – Large-flowered trillium

Not that the provincial flower of Ontario needs a description; it is all about the number 3: 3-petaled white flowers (rarely pink) with 3 green sepals above a whorl of three leaves. Usually as they age the white flowers turn light pink. Unfortunately, it goes dormant by mid-summer but after the spring display we can forgive this little shortcoming.  Sometimes, individuals with green bands on the petals can be spotted – they look interesting but it’s said to be a result of a phytoplasma infection.

Mixed in with T. grandiflorum is often Trillium erectum – Wake-robin trillium, Stinking Benjamin. It displays stunning dark-red flowers above the foliage – three pointed petals framed by 3 green or reddish green sepals. The scent of the flowers is the source for the common name Stinking Benjamin – they emit odours to attract carrion flies, which are their main pollinators.

 

The not so recent news from our small Canadian horticultural world is that Wrightman Alpines, a premiere alpine plants source from Ontario, is relocating to St. Andrews, New Brunswick. Fortunately, there is nothing to worry about as the mail-order will go on as usual, therefore, rather than saying goodbye, this is more a Hello to a new adventure!

Native alpine plants, little known plants, impossible plants…

Clematis columbiana var. tenuiloba, Matthiola trojana and Eritrichium howardii

But for the few of us lucky to be able to drive for their open days last weekend, it was the moment to say goodbye and to wish them all the best in this new adventure of relocating their family and nursery in a new place. After operating for more that 25 years from this location, this is without doubt a courageous endeavour and needless to say heartbreaking because parts of the rock gardens, including plants will have to be left behind.

 One more look to the gardens and Hello to a New Adventure!

 As soon as I’ll sort out the pictures we’ll have a last walk throughout the hoop-houses – the list of plants for my future rockery keeps growing longer…

And in the gardens last year

 

A few weeks ago I stumbled upon this Primula that was showing promise to be a great Primula-rina!
Primula frondosa foliage

The Ballerina – Primula frondosa (a bit elongated in a container in early spring)

Last time when I had visions of dancing plants it was two years ago because of a twirling Arisaema – it is not that often to discover a first class ballerina!.

Primula frondosa is a dwarf, farinose primula endemic from Bulgaria where it grows on cliffs at 900-2000 m altitude, in partly shaded, moist crevices. It is very hardy and will show up from under the snow, with a tight silvery rosette (you may wish that it remains like that), but then the leaves expand and remain powdery only beneath (but the flowering stem and flower pedicels still covered in silvery hairs). A very floriferous primula: umbels with up to 30 pink, delicate flowers with a yellow eye in early spring.

Primula frondosa flowering

Primula frondosa in full bloom right now ( 2-3 seedlings were planted together in the fall)

Sometimes mistaken for P. farinosa (and vice-versa, but P. farinosa has white-farina on both side of the leaves, and it flowers much later). Both are commonly called Bird’s eye Primulas.

Propagation: very easy to grow from seeds (like other Primula spp.), and it will start flowering in the second year – soooo gratifying!

 

A short hike revealed quite a change of the woodland floor with a few ‘faces’ familiar to everyone, like the trout lily (Erythronium americanum), spring beauties (Claytonia spp.), mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum) and Trillium ready to flower but also forgotten woodland treasures such as the Blue Cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides).

Spring woodland flowers

 

 Caulophyllum thalictroides – Blue Cohosh, papoose root, squawroot

Blue cohosh is an impressive plant, easy to recognize in early spring by the strikingly beautiful purple, almost back shoots. The foliage will change later to green and resemble the meadow rue (Thalictrum), hence the epithet ‘thalictroides’.

‘Cohosh’ is believed to derive from an Algonquian word meaning ‘rough’, referring to the texture of the plant’s rhizome, while ‘blue’ comes from the unusually blue seeds. Also the stem and leaves are covered with a bluish film early in the summer.

Caulophyllum thalictroides shoot in early spring

Caulophyllum thalictroides shoot in early spring

The small purplish or yellowish green flowers would not qualify for a beauty contest but not the same goes for the blue seeds adorning the stems in the fall. For combinations in the garden, only imagination is the limit: a mix palette with early spring flowering native species (Claytonia, Erytronium, Sanguinaria) or for an European decor combined with: Corydalis solida, early primroses, Anemone nemorosa, Ranunculus, so on…For part-shade to shade locations, in rich humus soil.

 Other uses:

Blue cohosh was used medicinally (powder rhizomes) by various native American tribes, mainly to promote childbirth (‘squawroot’) but also for: anxiety, rheumatism, stomach cramps and genito-urinary dysfunctions. It contains a number of active compounds among which caulosaponin is a powerful stimulator of uterine contractions (under medical attention it is still used in modern herbal medicine as a natural labour-inducing stimulant).

Corydalis from the Greek ‘Korydalís’ meaning ‘crested lark’

Someone lucky enough to go hiking in the Carpathian Mountains in late April-early May would be surrounded by multicoloured masses of Corydalis solida – Fumewort (or ‘brebenei’ in my native tongue). There is a great variation in flower colour from white to pink and purple and actually the best forms of C. solida on the market today trace back their origins to Transsilvania (Romania) and Penza regions (western Russia).

This year, in sync, the ones from our garden are blooming at the same time:

Corydalis solida 'George Baker'

The renown Corydalis solida ‘George Baker’ (from Gardenimports – I am not really sure if it is the real thing but still a good red form)

Corydalis solida 'George Baker'3 An ephemeral at superlative – it appears fast with the temperature raise in the spring, and then disappears quietly after a few weeks. But for the brief time when it flowers, it will fill your heart with unconditional love for the years to come. The deeply divided ferny foliage and long spurred, tube-shaped flowers are adorable providing the much needed burst of colors after our long winters.

C. solida purple

Corydalis solida – in its usual purple form (from Lost Horizons)

Corydalis solida

They also make for very good photo-subjects after rain

C. solida ‘Beth Evans’- is a large-flowered form, with pink flowers; slow to increase.  They are very delicate when in active growth; to be moved, mark their place and lift up the small tubers (bulb-like) as soon as they go dormant or in the fall.

Corydalis solida 'Beth Evans'

Corydalis solida ‘Beth Evans’ (from Fraser Thimble Farm)

Due to its ephemeral nature it is offered mostly by specialized nurseries/mail-order operations. For part shade and moist conditions when in growth, then it prefers to remain on the dry side for the rest of the season. I particularly like them planted close to ferns or  ornamental grasses where they fill in the space just perfectly in early spring. They interbreed easily and will seed around if happy forming multicolored colonies.

Best not to be a purist when it comes to Corydalis solida!

This is just a small glimpse of the Corydalis solida world – there are many other named varieties. I already wrote about other wonderful Corydalis species – do not be afraid to become a corydaphill!

Note: If someone doesn’t know it, the absolut Corydalis guru and bulb expert is Janis Ruksans from Latvia – on-line catalogue here: Rare Bulbs
 

All nature lovers in North America are familiar with the eastern skunk cabbage (polecat weed) – Symplocarpus foetidus, a true spring harbinger, a curiosity, a reason to go hiking in the woods in early spring, a conversation subject but most of all a warm-blooded plant!

Eastern skunk cabbage is the first plant to appear and flower in the frozen landscape due to its ‘central heating system’. The pointed inflorescences break through the ice and snow as heavily spotted, reddish thick-textured spathes that enclose the sexual parts (spadices).

“As my eye sweeps over the twenty or thirty plants before me, my gaze is brought into a spiraling movement when it tries to rest upon any single specimen. The deep color is warm, the sculpted form alive” Craig Holdrege

The French naturalist Jean Lamarck was the first to report that aroid inflorescences produce heat and lately this metabolic process was called thermogenesis. It was (and still is) quite a fascinating phenomenon and lots of research has been done to explain what’s happening.

Symplocarpus foetidus

Symplocarpus foetidus

Today we know that it is the salicylic acid from the plant which functions as a hormone, initiating the heating process and also the production of odours and unfolding of the spathe. In eastern skunk cabbage, the warmth from the spadix also dissipates foul smelling substances to attract flies, beetles and other pollinating insects, which are rejoicing in the warm environment created inside the spathe.

Spadix temperature is regulated depending on the ambient up to two weeks. Regardless of the near-freezing air temperature, the heat produced by the spadix can raise the temperature of its tissues 15 to 35°C above the surroundings!

Symplocarpus foetidus spadix

Symplocarpus foetidus spadix

There would be lots to be said also about the medicinal and magic uses of skunk cabbage. The one I like most is the ritual performed by the Menominee tribe of North America: they tattooed people recovering from an illness with a decoction of the skunk cabbage roots in the region where the illness had caused pain. This way the illness would not return…

Cultivation: Moist to wet soils in partial shade, great around ponds and streams. Seeds sown in moist compost and plants transplanted young or directly outside. It forms a stout, vertical rhizome and division is difficult. In nature populations are said to increase through seeds, not vegetatively, although for me it’s hard to believe the statement.
Large populations I am familiar with, form just few fruits every year, regardless of the spring weather; this implies they are largely clonal populations.

Filled out with the enthusiasm brought by a sunny, warm day (first after a long and dreary winter), we had our first hike in the forest. In the shaded areas the snow cover was still knee deep but on the warmed up slopes, underneath bare oak trees, a carpet of glossy, purple leaves was shining in the sun – the wintergreen.

Gaultheria procumbens - fruits in early springGaultheria procumbens (wintergreen, teaberry, mountain tea) – is an adorable low growing evergreen shrub native to northeastern North America usually found in pine and hardwood forests and as a part of the oak-heath forest, favouring acidic soil. It reaches about 10-15 cm high with glossy, leathery and fragrant leaves (when crushed) that will turn purple in the fall, especially in sunny areas. It has white, bell-shaped flowers (typical of fam. Ericaceae) and “berry-like” red fruits, which persist through the winter.

For the gardens it is an excellent groundcover beneath other acidic-lovers, in part-shade to full shade locations and it has received an AGM from Royal Horticultural Society.

But I don’t know if any of this would matter until you see it shining brightly one early day of spring

Gaultheria procumbens -early spring

Gaultheria procumbens – in early spring after the snowmelt

Besides its ornamental qualities as an evergreen groundcover, it has been used traditionally for making a fine herbal tea and also for the extraction of wintergreen oil (used for flavouring of chewing gum, candies, medicinal). Indigenous people used Gaultheria for medicinal purposes too, most commonly for relieving aches and pains and rheumatism. The colonists who first started to use the wintergreen leaves as a substitute for the imported tea during the Revolutionary War, also adopted its medicinal uses.

Gaultheria procumbens flowering (Killarney, Ontario)

Gaultheria procumbens flowering in Killarney, Ontario among Cladonia

Most wintergreen oil is produced synthetically today, but in traditional herbal medicine oil extracted from fresh leaves is preferred. The active ingredient of this oil is methyl salicylate, an aspirin- like compound, which like aspirin has proven anti-inflammatory, antirheumatic and analgesic properties.

Gaultheria procumbens also has wildlife value – the leaves and fruits will be consumed in the winter by various animals such as wild turkey, red fox, northern bobwhite, pheasant, eastern chipmunk….not to mention that the pollinators are indulging in its flowers in the spring.

Bumble bee on Gaultheria procumbens

Propagation: by seeds, cuttings, divisions.

Note: Gaultheria honors Jean-Francois Gaulthier – physician and botanist in the French colony of Quebec in mid-17th.

 

 

Using giberellic acid as an aid in germination

More species are germinating and because it’s still cold outside it’s a good time to ‘blag’ a bit about the germination. Each individual seed is a little wonder in itself: it does contain the plant we want – only if we can make it germinate! What I don’t like when growing from seed is not the ‘un-germination’ but the incertitude of what happened – what went wrong? – bad seeds, bad soil mix, too deep, too cold, too dry, not enough light, too much light… Also toooo much information on the web now can make things even more confusing. Here I’ll talk only about what I personally do.

Glaucidium palmatum seed germination

Glaucidium palmatum seed germination

Quite a few species (the most desirable) require ‘special treatments’ for germination like: stratification (moist & cold), alternation of cold and warm periods, incantations, sanding, soaking in GA3, frustrations… you get the idea. If you cannot easily provide a cold and moist period, the treatment with GA3 (acid giberellic) works in some cases wonders. I really like the convenience of GA3, which eliminates some variables from the process.

 Aquilegia-canadensis-semi-double-form-seedlings


Aquilegia canadensis – semi-double flower form seedlings

There is no need to seed way ahead of time or get buried under endless small pots that will get lost in the sway of other spring garden jobs. If the seeds are viable, they’ll germinate; if not, at least you’ll know it wasn’t your ‘brown’ finger at fault. Good to know, however, that GA3 at inappropriate concentrations can also destroy the seeds or lead to poor quality seedlings.

 These are two methods I use:

 1. Keep seeds in their package in the fridge (dry storage). When time to sow, prepare a GA3 solution 500-1000 ppm, soak seeds until next day, plant them in pots, cover with a thin layer of mix – place under lights (or outside if you sow late spring).

 2. For the most recalcitrant – place the seeds into a moist paper towel inside a Ziploc bag, keep in the fridge (moist storage). When time to sow, squeeze the moist paper and add the GA3 solution over seeds, then keep until next day and then sow.

 Germination should occur in 1-2(3) weeks.

Most excited about Thalictrums I am trying this year: T. delavayi – a Chinese meadow rue, with large lilac-mauve flowers (petal-like sepals; the one I bought a couple of years ago was really small and didn’t make it) and T. isopyroides with a really tiny, steel blue foliage that can grow in full sun – would be good for a rockery (from Turkey, Iran, Syria, Altai Mts.).

Note: Aquilegia also prefer/require light for germination so you should cover them with a very fine layer of potting mix (in case you forget about this they’ll still germinate but much slower).

 

 

 

 

 A gardener’s look at how our preconceived ideas prevent us from experiencing new plants in the garden.

Most specialty nurseries nowadays are carrying a wide range of Solomon’s Seals – Polygonatum spp., of which quite a few don’t look at all like the common, North American native Polygonatum biflorum. Although the Great Solomon’s seal is a great addition to any woodland garden of a certain size, its size and spreading behaviour have been extended wrongly to the genus Polygonatum in general. If we are willing to look beyond, there are species and varieties that look and/or ‘behave’ in the garden completely different. I cannot say it better than Tony Avent from Plant Delights Nursery did when talking about Polygonatum kingianum: “forget everything you know about Solomon’s seal, except that it grows from a rhizome in the shade.”

I am sure the list can be longer but I’ll resume to a few species that I have images and are available at Lost Horizons Nursery in Ontario.

Polygonatum kingianum grows to 1-3 m tall, erect or as a climber; its leaves are narrow and arranged in whorls, each ending in a tendril-like tip. Flowers can be white to pink or orange and berries red. Flora of China specifies it is a highly variable species, which stands true for a few others Polygonatum sp. with whorled leaves.

 Polygonatum verticillatum has also narrow leaves in disposed in whorls (but no tip-tendrils) and creamy-white flowers. A very tall form in cultivation is P. verticillatum ‘Himalayan Giant’. Another beauty with narrow, whorled leaves and smoky-rose flowers is Polygonatum curvistylum (I don’t have an image so you’ll have to believe me). Another species presented in the gallery, with umbel-like inflorescences might be P. zanlanscianense, but I’m not very sure. For more unusual species Flora of China is a good source of descriptions, although in some cases given their variability is hard to ascertain a proper identity, looking only at a few plants.

 My preferate – Polygonatum hookeri is a dwarf Solomon-seal that you’ll fall in love with at first sight.  It is a native from parts of China and N. India, where it grows at altitudes over 3000 m. It reaches only 10 cm in height and the leaves are crowded on the stems. The pink or lavender flowers resemble those of a hyacinth, and berries are red. In time it will form a lovely groundcover mat allowing other taller plants to peak through. Perfect for a small rockery in part shade. Available also at Wrightman Alpines – after all it is an alpine solomon’s seal!

 

 

 

Alvar is the name used for a distinctive habitat formed by a thin covering of soil or no soil at all, over a base of limestone or dolostone bedrock. These alvars support specialized species communities and are found only in the North America Great Lakes Basin, Estonia, Sweden, Ireland and UK. Ontario contains 75% of the alvars in North America.

Campanula rotundifolia and Packera paupercula

Campanula rotundifolia and Packera paupercula

I find the extreme conditions in which plants can grow in the alvars, especially the open pavement and shoreline alvars, quite fascinating. Pools of water collect in slight depressions in the surface of the rock ‘pavement’ after rain and spring snow melt, and then small amounts of silt and sand accumulate and provide a habitat for plants to take root in the shallow holes, grikes and joint fractures shaped by water erosion. The reason I found the alvars and the plants growing there so fascinating is that they remind me of a rock garden situation, a really though one, with little soil and rooting space for the plants, high temperatures in the summer and more than this with high variation on the moisture levels throughout the seasons.

Many of the alvar plant species are perennials, of which some are more or less confined to this particular environment. For example species like Cirsium hillii, Solidago ptarmicoides and Astragalus neglectus have a high alvar confinement (above 70%), while others like Zigadenus elegans have a low<50 % alvar confinement. Besides knowing and protecting them, the ability to grow in such conditions it is a proof of their adaptability and more of them should be tested into cultivation.

The following images have been taken in the Bruce Peninsula area, in Ontario – it is a gallery that gradually it will be updated with more species.

A recount of our trekking trip on the Inca trail to Machu Picchu – part II

We were just starting on the second day to eventually reach the highest point on the Inca Trail: Warmiwañusca Pass (in translation Dead Woman’s Pass) at 4265 m. But before getting there we passed through what’s called a ‘submontane, subtropical humid forest’ or strait said cloud forest. At some point, the trail was followed, sometimes on both sides, by small, contorted trees with a specific, flaked, cinnamon bark. You could feel it is something special and slow down a bit – it was like walking through an enchanted forest, from a fairy tale and hope it never ends!

Polylepis tunnel

Through a Polylepis tunnel on the Inca Trail

The genus Polylepis has 27 species of trees and shrubs with an Andean distribution (with 19 species in Peru) and belongs to the rose family (Fam. Rosaceae). All tree species in the genus Polylepis (Quenoa) are confined to the high tropical South American Andes Mountains, where they grow best at elevations between 3500 to 5000 meters! That’s why Polylepis is considered the highest naturally occurring arborescent angiosperm genus in the world!

Their contorted, twisted growth is due to the harsh environment they are growing in. Also the layered bark with lots of thin, reddish, exfoliating sheets and the congested disposition of the leaves on the branches are adaptations to the specific high altitude climate of the Andes.

Still under the Polylepis spell, you’ll feel that the climb becomes more arduous. But the scenery is ‘magnifique’ and there are lots of other plants you probably never saw. Some guides will be able to tell you a few of them, if not the proper identification can wait for later.

Such was the case of Brachyotum – a genus of shrubs endemic throughout the high elevations of tropical Andes. The one in the image, probably B. quinquenerve, has the most vivid deep violet flower colour. Who wouldn’t want it in the garden?

Brachyotum

Brachyotum spp. – on the Inca Trail (maybe quinquenerve)

Toward the highest point of the Inca trail: Warmiwañusca Pass, which is situated at 4265 m, we entered the vegetation zone called the ‘Puna’. It is mostly grassland with various species like Stipa, Festuca and Miscanthus (of which about 48 species! are reported above 3000 m). It is very windy and cold, and there is a foggy, mysterious aspect of the nearby mountain slopes.

But when on the mountain, what comes up has to go down, so quite a steep descent follows next toward Pacasmayo valley. In some areas the trail becomes very wide, at times looking just like a weathered garden stone path; a very strange feeling knowing you are at 4000 m altitude in the Andes – walking through the Inca gardens in the mountains!

Incas Garden in the Andes

Incas Garden in the Andes

To be continued…

 

A group of plants that I really like and hope to increase my collection, are the columbines: Aquilegia spp., and in particular, of course, the alpine columbines. In contrast with the more regular garden Aquilegia varieties, the alpine ones are short in stature but bearing large flowers. In most cases they have a delightful bluish, compact foliage, which in itself makes a wonderful addition to any small rock garden.

Aquilegia scopulorum x coerulea in the rock garden at Wrightman Alpines

Aquilegia scopulorum x coerulea in the rock garden at Wrightman Alpines

All Aquilegia are important food source plants for bees, bumblebees, hummingbirds and hawk moths. Even just for this reason one should include them in the garden. Interesting fact, biologists found that the length of the nectar spurs in Aquilegia evolved to allow flowers to match the tongue lengths of their pollinators. Species with very long nectar spurs, like A. coerulea are pollinated by hummingbirds and hawk moths, while the short spured species, like A. canadensis are fancied by bees and other short tongue insects.

Aquilegia coerulea (Colorado blue columbine) has flowers with very long nectar spurs that look like space ships or sea creatures, wherever your imagination tends to go, up to the sky or down in the ocean. Very variable in height, anywhere from 15 to 90 cm and in flower colours – from white to pale or dark blue; also there are reports of a variety with spurless flowers!

I am greedy when it comes to columbines. This spring I am looking forward to see flowering (and take more pictures) in my rockery a few alpine columbines I grew from seeds: A. jonesii – the smallest of columbines, A. saximontana and A. discolor (that is if my seedlings survive the record low temperatures we have this winter).

 Also ready to greet the pollinators this year: A. nigricans (Carpathians Mts. collection), A. alpina and A. atrata.

 

I would note that most Aquilegia species are polymorphic and difficult to define adequately. Some of the variability is because of introgressive hybridization (Flora of NA). Even distantly related species of columbines are often freely inter-fertile, hence the multitude of hybrids and cultivated forms available. Also, this poses a problem for seeds collection, especially in the case of cultivated varieties if one requires true to type species.

 

 

Another great Arisaema that flowers in early spring is Arisaema galeatum. It is another story than A. sazensoo because it has a really big tuber. It is said that can grow to half a kilogram! Last year when I was checking the tuber in early March I caught it just starting to grow and it looked very appealing to me – with a dark-chocolate coating and raspberry syrup on top would be delicious! But I put myself together… This is an Arisaema from the Himalayan range (NE India to Bhutan), which grows during the mansoon months and then the leaves start withering in late summer and goes dormant early. Good to keep this in mind as it shows its requirements for a very good drainage from late summer to fall, and during winter of course.

The flower emerge on the same time with the leaves, on a short peduncle and it has a helmet-like (galeate) spathe, similar with A. ringens. It can be green or brown with whitish veins and has a white, translucent spadix that ends in a thread like whip.  I like to call it Dolphin cobra lily, because that’s what it suggested to me first time when it bloomed – a dolphin emerging for air from within the leaf! 

Just like its sister, A. ringens, the huge trifoliolate leaf is very ornamental. Actually, I consider it among the most beautiful from all Arisaema species I’ve seen. It unfolds slowly and the back pattern with accentuated purple ribs makes it mesmerizing to watch.

It did form two tuberlets two years ago (not a great rate of offsetting), from which one even produced a small flower in its first season! Unfortunately, the rainy weather we had late summer to fall it proved fatal for the smaller size tubers. If someone wants to give it a try I suggest container culture, so it can be moved to a dry place in late summer, or if in the garden a real well drained area, like close to a tree or shrub that would remove the excess water and also provide the part-shade required.

 

This is an updated post on Arisaema sazensoo – I have more ‘data’ to share now than last year. I am always in a mood for any Arisaema, but especially for the rare ones like A. sazensoo.

Arisaema sazensoo, is one of the first Arisaema to emerge in the spring, just like its cousin A. sikokianum. It is native from Kyushu, Japan and resemble a little A. sikokianum but the spadix doesn’t have such a pronounced white ‘pestle’. The spathe is usually deep purple, recurved over the spadix and the leaves are trifoliolate, like you can see in the images. It was thought to resemble a Buddhist monk in meditation – ‘zazen’, hence its name sazensoo, or at least that’s what I read. Anyway, you can tell it is a very charismatic Arisaema!

Arisaema sazensoo

Arisaema sazensoo

Another characteristic is that it stays in flower over a very long period of time, comparing with other Arisaemas. It had one attempt to form seeds, which proved sterile, but two years ago in late fall I had the very pleasant surprise to find that it had produced an offset (a tuberlet)!

On a few websites you’ll read that A. sazensoo is a non-offsetting species, but obviously someone got it wrong. In the images below I can present now the tuberlet that has grown quite well in one season (A. sazensoo doesn’t have a big size flowering tuber). More than this, the old tuber shows very clear another tuberlet (which is best left to detach by itself).

Like many other Arisaema species, it prefers a part-shade location and can be grown very well in a container, where a good drainage can be easily provided. Best transplanted in late fall with fresh potting mix and kept dry over the winter.

Caiophora coronata

Another awesome trip, that shouldn’t be missed if you are in the region, is towards Embalse de Yeso. This is an artificial dam with an amazing alpine style lake at about 2500 m elevation. The narrow, gravely road follows dangerously close to the lake edge so it’s best to keep your eyes on the plants growing on the other side (if you’re not the driver!).

Caiophora coronata, which belongs to another South American family: Loasaceae, is definitely one of the coolest plant that you’ll see here. This species has big bonnet-shape flowers arranged in a crown, hence its name; the leaves are pinnate, heavily dentate and the whole plant is covered by stinging hairs. Needless to say, it’s recommended to wear gloves if you want to get close to it. The next one, Tropaeolum polyphyllum can be quite a shock for everyone used with the annual nasturtium. It is a tuberous plant with trailing stems up to 50 cm long, sprawling over the rocks. Leaves are deeply cut, grey-blue with 5-9 (11) folioles. Flowers are produced in a great number and they are big, yellow-orange, with a spurred calyx. Another Tropaeolum growing there is the endemic Tropaeolum sessilifolium. Smaller in size and more compact, the flowers are a combination of yellow, around the calyx and pink on the corolla. Something looking like splashed dots of colours on the rocky, barren slopes it is usually Cruckshanksia hymenodon – a plant with a name that makes you check your spelling five times. The actual flowers are very small, yellow and are surrounded by lavender-pink bracts, supposedly with the role of attracting pollinators.

We did manage to see a rosulate Viola toward the end of our stay. We were somewhere close to Laguna de Teno and stopped at the view of a showy Rodophiala rhodolirion. This is an endemic Amaryllidaceae, about 15 cm tall, which is quite a sight because of the big white to deep pink flowers with red marks, appearing before the foliage. Climbing the slope to take pictures of it, I almost crushed a Viola subandina, an annual Viola with a small purplish rosette. There were just a few of them, not too showy to be honest, and the flowers already gone – you could actually see a few seeds in the capsule, but I didn’t care. At that moment, it was the feeling of discovery that mattered most.

Have a look at the Viola subandina and also at a few other awesome plant species: