Wildflower Wednesday: Rejoicing in Milkweeds

It's been a long time since I did a post for Wildflower Wednesday, and it seemed like a good idea to pop up a post about one of my favourite, and most important, of wildflowers: milkweed. 

Milkweeds belong to the genus Asclepias, in the dogbane family, Apocynaceae. It's related to dogbane (Apocynum),  bluestar (Amsonia), periwinkle or myrtle (Vinca) and hoya, the wax plant with its stunning flowers. Looking at the flowers of milkweed, I can certainly see the relationship to hoya-the flower clusters, with their individual florets, look like they're made of china--just perfect.

The closing down of planting season...almost!

Hard to believe we're into the latter part of October already, isn't it? The days are so much shorter now, and of course windy, often rainy, and sometimes even cold-ish. When it's not raining, blowing, or cold, there's plenty to do in the garden. My planting bench may be finally cleared of things to actually plant (except for bulbs, which I haven't started yet)...

But there's still a surprising amount of bloom in the garden. This fall monkshood variety is aptly called 'Cloudy', and although it's late to bloom, I think it's my favourite aconitum.

There are also all kinds of interesting seed heads to admire, if you're into seed heads like I am. Here we have telekia in the foreground (something similar to Inula), with the teasels and Miscanthus 'Malepartus' towering in the background. I leave most seed head stalks stand for bird food and for winter interest, or interest-as-long-as-they-stand-the-wind.

Still have several varieties of tricyrtis (toad lilies) in bloom in our garden, though the foliage is definitely looking moth-eaten (actually, probably leaf-cutter bee eaten, plus wind whipped.). This one, I think, is 'Empress'.

This is a great time of year for the warm-season grasses that flower in late summer and autumn. Many of the pennesetums aren't hardy here, but I think this one is. 'Hameln' and 'Karley Rose' certainly are, and hopefully 'Red Head'. This, I think is a species, unnamed.

Lots of bright red berries festooning shrubs around our garden now, even though much foliage is still holding on as well. The common burning bush is a cheery plant, and while it's invasive in some areas, I've never seen so much as a seedling from mine.

The same with its relative, the amur cork tree, which has even more interesting seed heads.

This common green barberry becomes electric with foliage colour as fall progresses, but for now it's extremely heavy-laden with fruit. Birds eat the berries on the outer branches, but they don't try to get too deeply into the shrub.

Meteorologist Cindy Day remarked on CTV Atlantic the other night that heavily-laden mountain ash trees means a hard winter in weather folklore. I don't know whether that pertains to high bush cranberry but this tree is well-laden with fruit for now--til the birds clean it off. The mountain ashes ARE really laden with berries too, but I don't have any right in the garden, just in the wilder areas of the property.

I planted a grapevine maybe 7-8 years ago, long enough ago that I don't know what variety it is. I don't tend it other than to prune it some in the spring, and string some support for it. This year it has a lot of grapes, enough that I'm tempted to make jelly out of them. If the birds don't get them before it stops raining around here.

The berries of Hypericum 'Albury Purple' start out red and turn to purple-black as they ripen. These sorts of berries are often popular in flower arrangements, although not this hypericum in particular as it's low-growing with short twigs. It's going to be carefully mulched as cold weather comes on, because it's a bit marginal for our garden. I'm getting buddleias (butterfly bush) to come through the winter now, though, so I love a challenge.

The native witch-hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) is in bloom in woods and gardens now. Mine has lost many of its leaves in the gales of wind, which makes those dainty, spidery flowers easier to see. Often you can smell witch hazels before you can notice them, because the blossoms have a light, pleasantly spicy scent.

Also native, winterberry or Canada Holly (Ilex verticillata) needs both males and female plants in order to produce berries. It took me a couple of years to sort out which of my shrubs were male and which female, and then I had to plant another male and a female so as to have good berry production in different parts of the garden.

More blooms still coming on the 'Purple Bowl' ironweed (Vernonia crinata). This is a beautiful variety, with flower heads that do cluster in a bowl-like shape. The bees certainly appreciate it, and so do I.

Many people have problems with Physostegia, the so called obedient plant, being disobedient. It's actually called by that common name because you can move the florets around on the flower spike and they will stay put, but the plant itself often has roaming tendencies. I have the variegated form, and it's never been disobedient, growing quietly in its part of the garden, its clean green and white foliage nicely attractive. Then in September, it starts producing flowers, and keeps on flowering for another couple of weeks yet.

Next week calls for fairer weather, so I should be able to get some weeding, thinning, and cleanup done in the garden before I start with bulbs. What about you--are you finished planting for this year, or just getting into the next phase of 4-season gardening?

Catching up, with an Invitation

It's been quite a while since I posted here, but I think the reasoning is pretty obvious to most fellow gardeners. June in Nova Scotia has been almost as cranky as May was, weather-speaking, and we have to garden when the sun shines, so to speak. Since I decided to increase the size of some of my beds this year, it's meant a lot of extra work, often during less than pleasant gardening weather--either too cold, too hot, or too wet!

As many of my readers know, I've felt a bit like Hank Williams lately..."I've been everywhere"...while on my book promotion tour and the garden club speaking circuit. I'd like to extend yet another bouquet of thanks and appreciation to all those who have come out to the various events, bought books, swapped stories, and been just the fantastic gardening buddies that you all are. It's been a hectic, rewarding spring and I'm honoured by all your support and friendship.

Now it's my turn to give back, or in this case, pay it forward.

My friend Captain Dick Steele passed away in March of 2010, to the sorrow of many, many friends and fellow plant aficionados. Captain Steele was fondly known as Mr. Rhododendron for his passion for these handsome landscape plants, and he spent many years breeding hardy varieties for our climate. Dick was a founding member of the Atlantic Rhododendron & Horticultural Society, and there has been a scholarship endowment set up in his name at my alma mater, the Nova Scotia Agricultural College.

Being a self-employed writer and sorta-photographer, I'm not exactly what you'd call well off. However, I do have a rather large and rambunctious garden, which is ever-expanding because I test so many plants here. I have no idea just exactly how many plants we have in the numerous beds around the property--I should count them but it might scare me! Especially as there are about 50 still waiting to be planted. And that doesn't include the annuals in containers.

So what I'm doing to help raise awareness and funds for the Captain Steele Endowment is holding an Open Garden weekend at our property on July 1, 2, & 3, 11 am-5 pm daily. Admission will be by free-will donation, with all proceeds going to the Endowment fund. I'll have some milkweed plants to give away courtesy of my friend Rob Baldwin's nursery, some of my own plants for a free-will donation, and some books for sale, too.
Yes, that's a puddle from the monsoon we had last night and this morning. Gardening here can be entertaining...

I've stressed before: our property is not the perfect sort of display you'll see at a public garden, or at someone's property that has landscapers designing and/or maintaining it. We do everything here ourselves, and as I noted above, I test a lot of things here to see how they'll do, including plants from Proven Winners, from local nurseries such as Baldwin's and Bunchberry Nurseries. But it's a happy, lush garden, with a lot of focus on pollinator-friendly plants, handsome foliage plants, winter interest, native plants...something for pretty much everyone.

The weather here in Scotts Bay can be highly capricious. Today, for example, we had a bombastic thunderstorm roll through with heavy rain and a bit of hail; then it partially cleared, was sunny in the front yard while more moody clouds rolled up the Bay of Fundy. So while it might be hot and sunny in Halifax--or down in Canning, or two miles up the road--during the July 1st weekend, we're never sure what it might be like here, so please bring foul weather gear if coming to visit that weekend.

For a few more details, including how to get here, please check out the dedicated page here on our Open Garden weekend. I'll relink to it if I do more posts before July 1st, but given the pile of work still needing doing here...there might not be another post til after that! So if you're interested in seeing what it's like to garden on the Bay of Fundy, and contribute to a great cause...we'll look forward to seeing you!

Here, there, and back again

The merry month of May has been not so merry if you're a nursery operator or a gardener here in Nova Scotia, because the weather has been, to say the least, terrible. Rain, fog, drizzle, repeat as necessary, very little sunshine to speak of, and chilly temperatures have meant that a lot of people haven't been able or willing to work in their gardens.

For this gardener and writer, however, it has been hectic, regardless of the weather. I've put a lot of miles on my car, and brought home a lot of plants from assorted nurseries, doing my part to improve the provincial economy. I've been giving talks and signing books at assorted locales, and visiting gardens whenever I have a chance. This garden outside of Annapolis Royal features a wonder selection of conifers and flowering shrubs and trees, with some bulbs and perennials interspersed for added colour.

The return of the native...plant!

(Hepatica nobilis (liverwort) flowers in spring.

Followup note, Wednesday: I think we'll be continuing the discussion on natives for at least another post or two, but in the meantime, for a really good look at natives in Nova Scotia, do visit the website for the Harriet Irving Botanical Gardens, at Acadia University in nearby Wolfville.

Some time ago, I was asked if I would do a post here explaining the difference between native and naturalized plants, as well as one on hybrids vs heirlooms. We plant geeks tend to bandy around such terms with such familiarity that we assume everyone has that same familiarity, which isn’t the case.

Aquilegia canadensis, Canada columbine

What defines a native plant? If something is native to an area, it means it was born or naturally occurring in that specific area. To compare myself to a plant, I was born in Newfoundland, so I’m a native of that fine and lovely province. However, I’ve lived most of my life to date in my parents’ home province of Nova Scotia, so I’m a naturalized Nova Scotian.

Hamamelis virginiana, native witchhazel

Plants may, of course, be native to more than one area, but I tend to go with Allan Armitage’s definition of something being native to North America. Thus although ironweed isn’t native to Nova Scotia, it is native to much of North America, and that’s good enough for me.

Yellow form of red-osier dogwood showing twigs in winter. (Cornus sericea 'Flaviramea')

Let's get something clear right now: I love many, many native plants, and have dozens of them on my property, but I am absolutely NOT a purist who wants only natives in my garden.

A native white spruce (Picea glauca) along the border of our property.

The gardening world is rife with discussion on this topic, with many people considering it heresy to use anything BUT natives in their gardens. That’s fine for those who want to be militant, but that’s not me. And I love cultivars that have been developed using native plants, like the glorious echinaceas that have sprung from crossing native species such as E. purpurea and E. paradoxa.

Amelanchier foliage and flowers in spring.

Again, I bow to the wisdom of Allan Armitage, who in his fabulous book Armitage’s Native Plants for North American Gardens (Timber Press) observes,

“Cultivars are the gardeners’ candy store. If you like purple coneflower, a dozen choices now await you. Should cultivars be called native? I don’t know—should rap be called music? It is simply a matter of opinion. I believe garden-improved cultivars, both selections and hybrids, will only help mainstream gardeners further embrace the world of native plants.”

The flowers and foliage of bunchberry, Cornus canadensis.

Why choose native plants to add to your garden? Often they are very well adapted to local growing conditions and tougher than introduced species, but you do have to exercise common sense. Plant a Canada holly (Ilex verticillata) in a dry area of your garden, and it will not thrive, any more than white pine (Pinus strobus) will be happy beside the seashore. You have to site them where they do best. Happily, there are native plants for every growing condition.

Labrador violets, Viola labradorica
Many natives are low maintenance, not requiring a lot of pruning and fertilizing and other pampering to do well—when situated in the right conditions, again. Some are drought resistant, while others are suited for wet, or shady, or heavy clay, or seashore situations.

The delicate flowers and foliage of bluestar, Amsonia tabernaemontana.
Many are disease and pest resistant, (but not necessarily disease and pest proof). You’ll often hear them touted as requiring less in the way of pesticides, but in my garden, nothing gets any sort of pesticide, organic or conventional, so it’s not an argument I’m going to make.

Bee on flower of swamp milkweed, Asclepias incarnata.

Quite often native pollinators, birds, and other types of wildlife have not adapted to using introduced/naturalized species for food purposes, so this is another great reason to include native species of trees, shrubs, and perennials in your plantings.

Waxwings feeding on the fruit of the American elder, Sambucus canadensis

Of course, there are always exceptions to this—think again of that humble dandelion, which many people curse but which provides nutrients for many a pollinator in early spring.

Flowers of highbush cranberry, Viburnum trilobum.

I hope that you’ll consider adding some native plants to your garden, although you may find, with a little research, that you already have quite a few in your plantings.

Joe Pye Weed, Eupatorium maculatum.

I’m not going to preach at anyone—I don’t like it when I am preached at, so I try not to do it to anyone else.

Red trillium, T. erectum.

My job is to give information to other gardeners, and it's up to you what you do with it. I just hope you’ll enjoy whatever you plant, wherever you plant it!

Wordless Wednesday: A little light reading...some great books (I hope!)

Viburnums for Autumn Brilliance

Autumn is a season that many of us view with a mixture of joy and dread. The rainbow of foliage colours is usually particularly satisfying at this season of fading flowers and shortened days, and among the deciduous allstars of fall colour are the Viburnums.

Many of us think automatically of the snowball bush (V. opulus) when viburnums are mentioned, to which I go ick,pooh, yuk! I’m not crazy about this species because it’s very prone to attack from pests, and I don’t find the plant all that interesting. But that’s a personal taste—and what in gardening isn’t personal?

For our garden, I initially tended toward native species because birds love them so much and I was sure of their hardiness in my yard. In the past few years, emboldened by success with a doublefile and a fragrant species, I'm intent on adding others to the mix around our property.

Viburnums come in a dizzying number of species and cultivars, and I don’t profess to be an expert where they are concerned—just that I love them, which is a good start. You do have to watch the hardiness zones, as some are very frost tender here and aren't suited for the colder areas of the province. But we have plenty of choices for our gardens.

There are two of the more ornamental (i.e. commercially easily found) viburnums I couldn’t be without: the doublefile viburnum, (photo above) with its pagoda-like structure and lacey white flowers. There are several different cultivars available--I've pretty much decided mine is 'Summer Snowflake' rather than 'Mariesii'.

Since the only thing better than one doublefile viburnum is two, I've pretty much decided that next year, I'll add 'Newport' doublefile to the back garden too. I saw it showing off its fall colour at a friend's recently, and that was enough for me.

I love the fragrant viburnums, and have a hybrid Carlecephalum near my office window, where its fragrance can lull me in late spring and early summer. The fun thing with these shrubs is that you can tell this autumn what next year's bloom will be like, because the flower buds are large and obvious now. It's been so windy the past few days, I haven't gone out to take photos, however, so you'll have to take my word for it for now.

I really like V. 'Onondaga' which has great burgundy bronze colour in its new spring growth, and in its flower buds too. It has lobed leaves something like a highbush cranberry, and also has flowers somewhat similar to the doublefile or highbush cranberry viburnums, flat clusters of lacy white blooms.

Some years, we don’t get a huge amount of fall colour from our viburnums, mostly because that ever-present wind rips leaves from many of our shrubs and trees before they can get really going. However, where we lose the foliage show sometimes, the fruit of the shrubs remains colourful, and provides much-needed food for birds, which are a major part of our garden.

V. nudum var. cassinoides is the Witherod or wild raisin (photo above), a native shrub that has reddish foliage in spring and gorgeous red to purple fall foliage. White flowers in the spring give way to pink fruits that eventually turn deep rich blue, before the birds swoop in to dine on them all. It was one of the first shrubs I learned to recognize as a child, although I thought the berries were toxic, probably because they are almost the same shade of blue as Clintonia.

Viburnum dentatum or arrowwood (photo at top of post) is a tough, winter hardy species that works well as a tall hedging or screen plant for a windbreak as well as having ornamental qualities. Its common name comes from the fact that its straight stems were formerly used by First Nation peoples for the shafts of their arrows. Arrowwood has blue-black fruits in the fall and foliage that varies from yellow to coppery orange and red. 'Chicago Luster' and 'Blue Muffin' are two popular cultivars of this native shrub.

V. trilobum, the highbush cranberry, is not a cranberry at all but is a native shrub in much of Atlantic Canada. It’s attractive as a specimen plant or even as a hedge, and its white blossoms are followed by blood red, fleshy fruit and red-purple autumn colour. Although the species grows to twelve feet tall, the cultivar ‘Compactum’ reaches only half that height.

If you're looking for an excellent book on the wonderful Viburnums, do check out Michael Dirr's excellent reference book by the same name. Published by Timber Press (of course), it's an invaluable reference book, written in Dirr's wonderfully encouraging and chatty style, and illustrated numerous photographs as well as with paintings done by his wife. Just be aware--viburnums can be habit forming.

Have you been lured into the wonderful world of viburnums yet?