In the Pink (mostly)

 It's a brand new week, and we're thinking about spring. This past month has been pretty gentle, weather wise, with nothing like the snowstorms we had last year. Last winter, the mantra was, 'If it's Wednesday, there will be a storm'...for weeks on end! But as always, it eventually melted.

This week we're celebrating some of the many shades of pink that we enjoy in our gardens. I have been known to say I'm not really a fan of pink flowers--then I look at what I have in my own garden, and how many I take photos of, and I have to change my mind about that statement. It all comes down to the flower and the colour in question, doesn't it? Like peonies--I don't care what colour they are, I love them. All of them. All the peonies. All the time.

Campanula 'Cherry Bells' is considered a bit of a thug by some gardeners, but I've never found it hard to control. I love its long bloom period and its ability to cover itself in pink, nodding flowers. 

 I have told this story before, and I'll share it again as I told it recently on my personal FB page.

My late beloved husband used to argue with me about purple coneflowers. "They're not purple they're pink!" 
"I know, dear."
"So why are they called purple? What about the white ones? Are they white purple coneflowers?"
"Don't ask me. I don't make up the names." 
And so on.
And as the variety of colours available increased, it grew more hilarious. "That orange-purple-coneflower-that-ain't-purple is bloom!" 

And I love all the coneflowers, including those fabulous cultivars, but the basic, straight up, pink coneflower that isn't purple is still the very favourite. 

This clematis was growing beautifully in a yard on a garden tour in Chester last summer, and I really enjoyed its vigour. I suspect it is 'Nelly Moser' although the gardener didn't know the name. My own collection of clematis is gradually increasing, and they make me extremely happy. 

Although I personally prefer blue mophead or lacecap hydrangeas if I have a choice, the pink ones are pretty fabulous, too. I actually bought a dwarf one at the grocery store this week, pre-Easter, and it's a pink/green one that is pleasing me greatly. This photo, however, is a mophead outdoors at a nursery, name unknown. Incidentally, I don't bring lilies into the house ever, because of the cats, but I love having a small hydrangea inside as we lurch toward spring. 

The luna hibiscus variety 'Cherry Cheesecake' gobsmacked me last summer with its brilliant colouring and the way the colour flows into the veins of each petal. I did not purchase this one--not yet, anyway--but the hardy hibiscus varieties have been doing well for me here in Wolfville so I think this summer I'll add this one.

Another hardy hibiscus shrub, but I couldn't find the name of this variety in my notes. Normally I can figure out where it was based on where it is in my photo library, but I was visiting someone else's garden (again on a tour) so it remains a mystery. It's inching towards lavender in colour, especially as the petals age, but it's a beautiful thing. 

All the hollyhock relatives like mallow and lavatera make me happy, like this annual variety blooming its face off in another private garden. Some of them selfseed, but I've never found them probelmatic. Pollinators also love them so that's another great reason to embrace them in your pink plantings. 

This portulaca relative is called Purslane, and this is one of the Yubi series of cultivars. I love the incandescent colours of portulaca and purslane, and plant them in containers for brilliant pops of colour throughout the garden. 

This is an old photo, but I wanted to include it, speaking of flamboyant flower colours. This is annual ice plant (Mesembryanthemum), also known for its iridescently gorgeous flowers. Gotta love those African daisy species. It's a bit fussy in growth habit and behaviour but I have to grow it every summer for those colours! 

 Pink isn't just for flowers--there are plants with pink in their foliage, perhaps the most commonly known being the dappled willow, Salix 'Nishiki'. But there are also houseplants that feature amazing pink in their foliage, like the bloodleaf in this container planting. It perfectly echoes the hot pink impatiens, and is more gently echoed by the softer pink flowers of the pennesetum grass (likely 'Fireworks'). I really like this container (it was in a public planting in Mahone Bay, NS.)

Wait a minute. These aren't pink. 

No, they certainly aren't. They're snowdrops. And they're blooming now, and have been for several weeks. 

Definitely an easier March than we had last year! Last year we never saw the snowdrops before mid April--and even later in some areas. 

We'll take this weather. 

Fleur Photos du Jour: Spike, spike, Baby!

 Want to add some height and drama to your plantings? Select some plants that hold their flowers on tall stems, or spikes. These generally include many flowers arranged either individually or in clusters around the stem. I like them in drifts when possible, but depending on your choice, one plant may put up a multiple of spikes. Above is yellow Jerusalem Sage (Phlomis), an elegant relative of bee balm. I am hopeful mine will finally bloom this year. 

One thing that needs to be addressed off the bat--many perennials with tall spikes of flowers need to be staked in order to keep them upright and tidy during bloom time. I always say that the blooming of the delphinium and peonies coincides with the annual Delphinium and Peony Wind and Rain Storm, which of course tends to knock them down. I have both species planted in among shrubs, to help protect and support them, but I do have to resort to stakes sometimes.

I love the elegant stems of Monkshood in my garden, which also are much more reliably perennial for me than their relatives the delphinium. They also bloom at different times; this white one comes in mid summer, but I have two fall-blooming varieties as well, in deep blue and bicolour blue and white. They offer a nice, cooling counterpoint to the normal autumn palette of golds, reds, oranges and bronzes. 

 I've mentioned this plant before but it bears repeating. New in my garden last year was Digiplexis, a cross between Digitalis (foxglove) and a non-hardy tropical relative. This won't be hardy here, but it bloomed like crazy and in different hues than the traditional foxglove, so I hope to find it again next year. Maybe it will self-seed but if it does it will likely revert to Digitalis form. We'll see!

 I like to tell people not to be too hasty to deadhead their perennials, because some have very nice seedheads. Dictamnus, the dittany or gas plant, is a good example of this with its star-shaped seedheads.

Here's the Dictamnus (the white form) in flower. Not only are the blooms lovely, they are extremely fragrant with a lemony scent. Slow to establish but worth waiting for. 

Here's a striking perennial that ought to be grown more often: Kniphofia, also known as red-hot poker, foxtail or torch lily. Most varieties come in shades of yellow or orange, with some colour changing as the flowers age. It is drought tolerant once established which also means you need to plant it where it will have great drainage. 

I used to be rather neutral about penstemons, because 'Husker Red' did not thrive for me in my former garden. Then I tried a couple of annual varieties that flowered like crazy, which prompted me to try a perennial form or two again. This was fed by friends who are very fond of penstemons and grow numerous species. Now I have...a bunch of penstemons. This one is called 'Dark Tower.'

And this is one of the species, Penstemon strictus, Rocky Mountain penstemon. With those colours in the flowers, it's no wonder I'm fond of it! 

Lambs ears (Stachys byzantina) may be an 'old fashioned' perennial, but it's one everyone should include in their gardens. For starters, it's deer-resistant, for those plagued by bambi-itis. For seconds, its foliage is grey-green and fuzzy, adding a distinct colour and texture to your garden as well as the vertical effect. And if you do plant it, don't cut the flowers off--maybe they aren't the most showy, but pollinators LOVE them. 

There are many different types of lupin and their relatives out there. Here in Atlantic Canada, we have lupins growing wild in many places, along roadsides, in meadows, and of course we grow them in our gardens, too. They are imprinted as one of the first flowers I learned the name of, in part because my maternal grandmother grew them in her garden. There are numerous hybrids and colours now available, but I find the unusual colours like red and yellow don't tend to last. 

To get around that problem with yellow lupins that don't act perennially, I grow two different types of Thermopsis, or yellow false-lupins. They are related, obviously, and as an added bonus, the species I grow produce rather handsome black seedheads which look quite striking in flower arrangements or just standing in the garden. 

This has highlighted just a few perennials with spiky stems--there are many, many more, and of course there are annuals too, and I didn't even touch the grasses! What's your favourite for adding vertical accents to your garden? 

An interlude: Taking my camera for drives

Early last year, I decided it was time to challenge myself in new directions. I decided to learn to be a better photographer, learning my camera and lenses and settings, learning to use Lightroom and Photoshop for image storage, organization, and editing. To learn to go beyond taking photos of only plants (and occasionally cats) and to expand my areas of interest. 

I will never be a professional photographer the way some of my heroes are--Freeman Patterson, Ernest Cadegan, John Sylvester, among others--but I learn from each of them from studying their work. I have learned to see in a different way than I once did. And I find the joy not in exotic locales, but around me. I derive enormous pleasure out of exploring my local world. Just shunpiking my way down back roads in Kings County, where I live, or other counties in the province, has yielded me much in the way of photographic delights, adventures and learning. 

What makes a great photo? It's the photographer's eye, to begin with, not the tools. I took the above photo on a cold, blustery day about a month ago--with my iPhone. From my car window. I shared it on Facebook to rave reviews from friends, who loved the mood of it. Which is what I was going for, not technical perfection. 

 This, on the other hand, was taken with tripod, my Canon 70D, ND filter, etc...it also captures a mood. I had just as much fun making one as the other.
What I tell people is this; the camera is like the oven, the photographer is the cook. You create the image, and the camera captures it. Don't think you need a dozen lenses and an expensive camera to have fun and make beautiful pictures.

 There are certain things in my world that I have a deep and abiding love for. Living in Canada's Ocean Playground, on the mighty Bay of Fundy, I am part water creature, and love being near the shore. I adore lighthouses. All lighthouses. This one is at Cape St. Mary's, Digby county, with a little fog playing with the atmospherics.

 I am very fond of crows and ravens, which are extremely clever birds. I caught this one sitting on the fencepost leading to the French Cross in Grand-Pré, and just had to preserve the moment. The crow graciously stayed put for me to get a few pictures before soaring off on important crow duties.

We have a group of artists in Kings County who every year throughout the summer do an outdoor  show around the county called Uncommon Common Art. Every piece is different, in different media, from fibre to metal to found objects and more. This is part of a recent installation, also in Grand-Pré, which is left standing over winter. Can't wait to see what goes up this year.

Naturally, being a gardener, I am very fond of trees, and I find them moody and rewarding subjects any time of the year. During a recent autumn storm, the surf was rocking and rolling along the shore by Halls Harbour, and I loved the steadfast trees, unphased by the weather. 

Another day took me further down the shore into Annapolis County, on a summer day of torrential rainfalls and thunderstorms, resulting in streams full to overflowing and cascading off the rocky cliffs like some sort of a tropical other-worldly place. 

Taking photos of people doesn't really interest me because I'm not good at it and people puzzle me rather a lot. But things that people MAKE is quite another story. Specifically, buildings. Old buildings. Abandoned or otherwise falling-down buildings. I have a huge affection for them, whether it be a seemingly nice, but very much abandoned house like this one, or some of the huge barns that are found all around the province (and elsewhere, but most of my building capturing has been in Nova Scotia. Some in Newfoundland last summer and a little in Iles de la Madeleine, but we'll get to those in due course.)

So, because this is my blog and I can post what I want, some images of life in my part of the world. I'll do this from time to time, and hope you'll enjoy--and more importantly, that you'll be encouraged to take your camera for a walk, or a drive, and see what you can find that makes your heart glad.

A Post-Valentine Chocolate Treat

 First, a weather report. Last year this time we were buried in snow, and we remained that way for the better part of two months. Today--there is only snow in the plowed piles, in ditches and woods and places like that. The back yard is bare. The birds are singing like crazy. The cats are starting to shed--and they're indoor cats so I am a little surprised. We know full well we're not out of the woods yet, weather wise, but we'll take this little hiatus and be happy with it.

Now, on to the weekly gathering of Fleur photos. Last week was preempted by posting about the orchid show so we're doing the Valentine's post the same way some people buy chocolate and flowers--after the event. But these aren't plants from the half-price bin. Not at all.

Because I love chocolate, and because I love unusually-coloured flowers, I am naturally drawn to have a collection of chocolate-coloured perennials. I don't have Akebia, the chocolate vine, but I have a number of plants that are either chocolate-y in colour, or include the word in their name, or both. We'll start with the photo at the top of this post, Digitalis 'Milk Chocolate'. I haven't had this plant since moving to Wolfville, but a friend has told me of a mutual acquaintance who will happily share seedlings with me. Happy day!

There are a number of daylilies that include chocolate in their name, but I don't have any of them. So the closest I can offer from my personal collection is 'Black Arrowhead', which I quite love. A friend has 'Teddy Bear's Picnic', which is described as having light chocolate flowers with a deeper colour. I'll stick with mine, floriferous and easy going as it is. It looks great with the orange Asclepias, too. 

I love the ease of baptisas: they are deer resistant, for those troubled by Bambi, they don't get aphids the way their relatives the lupins do, and they make a shrub-like plant with glossy foliage and great seedheads. This variety is called 'Decadence Dutch Chocolate' and I had to have it when I found it last year. You probably will, too. Just be patient with it--Baptisias can take a couple years to settle in unless you buy 2nd- or 3rd-year plants.

This hellebore is one of the so-called 'black' ones, and it is just gorgeous. I believe this is 'Onyx Odyssey' but there are at least several others that are equally dark and delightful. My hellebores are all sleeping quietly beneath some evergreen boughs, but I did notice buds forming before I mulched them. Something to look forward to!

You're no doubt wondering why this white-flowered perennial is part of the mix. It's 'Chocolate' boneset (Eupatorium), so called because its foliage is a bronzy-chocolate-green shade. It's a late, late bloomer, often the last perennial to flower in my garden. Late pollinators love it, too.

The chocolate cosmos is a delightful thing that actually does smell of chocolate! It's an interesting annual that forms tubers in the soil, and can be overwintered and planted the following year. It blooms and blooms and blooms, especially if you remember to deadhead the spent flower stems. And yes, the scent is lovely.

Despite its gorgeous deep chocolate colour, Salpiglossis 'Chocolate Royale' does not have any fragrance. But we'll forgive it because of that striking colour (and it loks so great with the kangaroo paw planted beside it). 

 The name of this sunflower wasn't attached to the photo when I went searching through my files, but it is either 'Chocolate Cherry' or else just 'Chocolate'. I don't have it anymore, and haven't seen seeds locally, but since I never met a sunflower of any colour that I didn't adore, it's okay. I haven't looked too hard for seeds since I am so busy there's not a lot of time for planting seeds!

With last week's post about orchids, I put up a photo of Oncidium 'Sharry Baby' orchid, and mentioned that it is definitely chocolate scented. Several friends have been here while it's been blooming and now can attest for themselves the divine fragrance of the plant. 

That's all for this week, as we're really busy getting the next issue of Saltscapes magazine ready to go to print. Also, we're only two months away from the 12th annual Saltscapes East Coast Expo, so there's lots going on. Before we know it, it really WILL be spring. 

In Lieu of Herald Column: Orchids for the Midwinter Blahs

A note to my readers: Normally, I write a gardening column for the provincial paper of record, the Halifax Chronicle Herald. I've been doing this for probably 12-15 years (I can't honestly remember when I started). However, though I choose to be a freelancer rather than an employee, I am also electing not to file my column to the paper while the regular journalists, including editors and photographers, that work at the paper are out on strike, due to a draconian and poorly-thought-out attack by the owners and management of the paper. So I'm posting my column here, instead.

I will never been an expert in or specialist about any particular type of plants. There are far, far too many that fascinate me, both outdoors and as houseplants, native and exotic. Especially, I will never be an expert on orchids. But I do love them in their myriad forms, colours, shapes, species, hybrids...I love the native and hardy varieties that we can grow outdoors in our gardens, like Cypripedium lady slippers and Bletilla hyacinth orchids.  

(yellow lady slipper, native to NS) While this is gorgeous, it is not suited to every garden, and it's recommended that you consult a good greenhouse before trying one in your own garden. 

 But I do profess to be rather besotted with the exotic orchids that we grow in our homes, or sigh over in other people's homes. And I can tell you, they are worse than potato chips, because you really, really cannot have just one. 

Like many others, I used to think I couldn't grow orchids--that they were highly demanding, requiring just the right amount of heat and light and special growing media and pots and if you looked at them sideways they would die. Okay, there are certainly some that are particular, but there are many that are quite happy, or at least tolerant, of most home growing conditions. 

I'll always be grateful to the acquaintance who was an orchid expert--a judge, breeder, and seller of these glorious plants--and who gave me a small, tough, and interesting orchid. This was about the time that moth orchids, (Phalaenopsis), became widely available and dropped in price accordingly. Suddenly, they were worth trying because they were no more expensive than other flowering plants and if they throve, fabulous. If they went to sleep, I could deal with that, too. Turned out they liked my growing conditions and they did rather marvellously. I was hooked. 

Getting braver, I consulted with another orchid enthusiast and bought my first Paphiopedilum, one of the non-native genera also given the common name of ladyslipper orchid. I nurtured it with care and when it flowered for me the next winter, I was so proud of myself. And got a little more daring as a result. 

Now I also have a couple of Oncidiums, also known as 'dancing lady' orchids. This is the chocolate-scented 'Sharry Baby', which is a delightful plant both for all its flowers and for that fragrance. 

One of the most important things when growing orchids is to make sure to use filtered water from the tap, or rainwater. Filtering tap water is important because some natural sources of drinking water can be alkaline, which affects the available nitrogen orchids need for healthy growth. Don't use bottled water, which can have high levels of salt, definitely not good for orchids! And don't overwater your orchids, which will kill them quite quickly. I give mine a drink, then let the water drain away from the pot, so that standing water doesn't cause root rot. 

My fondness for green flowers is well known, so it's no surprise that I would have green orchids--both a moth orchid, and this fabulous Cymbidium. At one time I had a green-flowered lady slipper orchid, but it succumbed during the transition from one place to another til I finally landed here in Wolfville. Oh well. Plants come and go, as a wise gardener once told me.

 It is important to match your home's light and heat conditions with the right type of orchids. Many enthusiasts have an attached greenhouse, solarium, or a special room dedicated to growing the more tropical types that require higher temperatures and humidity than the average home can offer. If you can find a local enthusiast and ask questions, these folks are very generous with advice, tips and suggestions. They often have plants for sale as well, which is an added plus! You can buy moth orchids at department and grocery stores as well as at florist shops, but finding more unusual species may be a little more challenging.

Ask orchid enthusiasts about what they grow their plants in, and you'll get a variety of opinions on the best medium. Orchids in stores are often potted up in sphagnum moss, which can stay soggy and cause root rot, or dry out and be hard to rewet. Either way, it's only good for about a year before it has broken down completely. If you're going to use bark, order or purchase bark that is FOR orchids, not bark out of the mulch in your hard. Some growers are now using coir fibre (coconut husk fibre) but before transplanting their orchids into this medium, they treat it with epsom salts and calcium nitrate to remove naturally-found salts that can cause root burn. I have no experience with this product, but I bought a bag of bark sold by a reputable potting medium company which I have just used to pot up a couple of my plants. We'll see how they do before I mention the name. 

 If you want some inspiration and to be able to pick the brains of experienced orchid growers, do check out the Orchid show at the KC Irving Environmental Science on Saturday, February 20, 1030am-4 pm. This annual show includes some breathtakingly gorgeous plants, and hopefully there will be vendors this year after a hiatus last year. This show is a photographer's dream and the perfect antidote to the winter blahs.