Plants that did make sense to have in my small garden

A dwarf, big flowered blue columbine: Aquilegia discolor, most probably a cross (from Seedex as A. saximontana)

Aquilegia discolor (cross)

 Aquilegia discolor cross

True that if we would grow only ‘reasonable’ plants, our gardens would lack all spontaneity and wonder. But because I can now easily enjoy them in containers, and not worry about their relocation, I think a bit of praise is warranted.

On the other side of the container, a tiny hardy ginger: Roscoea tibetica (from Lost Horizons) – very precious, after the bad winter we had, who knows if I will get to see the other Roscoeas from the garden.

Roscoea tibetica

Roscoea tibetica

From another container, the most fragrant, fringed Dianthus I know: Dianthus petraeus (from wild collected seeds in the Carpathian Mts.) Too bad I cannot insert a ‘scratch patch’ with its perfume.

Dianthus petraeus

Dianthus petraeus

A rock jasmine: Androsace sarmentosa – a small piece I saved from an old plant, I hope it will thrive again (or set seeds, or better both).

Androsace sarmentosa

Androsace sarmentosa

and more are on their way to flower…

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.