Entertaining Royalty in My Garden

No, not the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. I wouldn't begin to know what to serve them. I do know what pleases this visitor, however:

Monarch butterfly caterpillar (Danaus plexippus) enjoying a milkweed plant (Asclepias syriaca) in my front yard garden. (As always, click for a more detailed view.)

I've been allowing common milkweed volunteers to grow in my garden for eight years, hoping to encourage Monarchs to reproduce here. This is first year they've ever produced flowers, and the first year I've seen a caterpillar, even though we do get a fair number of Monarch butterflies.

Front Garden. The tall plants in the rear, just to the left of the hanging basket, are the Milkweeds. The orange flowers in front are Asclepias tuberosa, (butterfly weed) which also attracts Monarchs.

Closer view of Asclepias tuberosa, Gaillardia, and Rudbeckia hirta

Here are some other pictures from my front yard gardens this summer:

The two-year old bed at the foot of the right side of our driveway really came into its own this year. The gray plants are Artemesia stelleriana 'Silver Brocade,' the purple spikes are Salvia nemorosa 'East Friesland' and Salvia x sylvestris "May Night."

This is the more mature garden to the left of the driveway at the sidewalk, filled with Salvia, Sedum, Sempervivum, Gaillardia and Juniperus, not to mention the Clematis-covered trellises.

Hemerocallis NoId (I thought it might be 'Chicago Fire' or 'Chicago Apache', but it doesn't quite match the pictures of either of those that I can find online.)

Echinacea 'Sundown'

The new backyard garden I planted last year has really taken off, and I will be featuring it in an upcoming post.

Easy Grows the Head that Wears the Crown

In a post from last year, about a visit to the Chicago Botanic Gardens, I shared a picture of a group of Fritillaria imperialis, also known as Crown Imperials, or Fritillaries. I mentioned in that post that I had never seen them growing in a home garden, but that I would like to try them in mine.

Well I did. I purchased three of the rather expensive bulbs last fall and planted them, and here is the result:

Fritillaria imperialis in my backyard garden

This garden is a raised bed, with heavily amended, well-draining soil. It is my understanding that Fritillaria will fail if heavy soil allows water to remain pooled at the top of the bulbs for any length of time. The soil in the rest of my yard is heavy black clay, except for the random pockets of rocky, gritty, builder's fill that I come across when I least expect it. So even though I'd love to have them elsewhere, I decided that the backyard bed would be the best place for them. Even so, I'd heard tales of Crown Imperials being difficult to grow, so I wouldn't have been surprised if they hadn't turned up this spring.

Shot of a single plant. I was a bit worried that the tall stems might snap in some of the strong winds we've had this season, but the plants took those gales in stride.

One of the questions that came up about Fritillaria imperialis in the blog comments last spring was about the odor. I knew that the bulbs had a strong scent, sort of like musky garlic. But when admiring the plants at the CBG, I hadn't noticed any smell. Now that I have some, I know better. On cool gray days (and boy, have we had a lot of those here in Chicagoland this spring) you have to stand pretty close to get a hint of that garlicky smell. But if it is warm and sunny, the odor can be quite strong, and travels a fair distance.

Closer view of the pendant flowers, with their crown of leaves

I find the plants so striking that I don't mind the smell at all. In fact, I was thinking of planting a few more next fall. I was considering a getting a couple of the yellow-flowering Fritillaria for a nice contrast, but more of orange would also be nice. Love those orange flowers. And I understand that the bulbs will multiply, so I may get more even if I don't plant additional ones.

In case anyone wondered what the inside of those downward-facing flowers looked like. This looks pretty neat if clicked for a larger image.

I do understand that a successful first year with a plant doesn't necessarily mean that it is easy to grow. I've had more than my share of beginner's luck in the garden (and with my houseplants.) But since I've also had my share of beginner's failures, including bulbs that fail to come up at all, I'm taking this show of blooms as a positive sign for the future.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, November 2010

My goodness, I actually remembered this time. Here is what's blooming in my home and garden on this lovely November 15. And yes, it actually is lovely. Sunny and around 50F. Crisp leaves underfoot. I'm learning to appreciate autumn for what it is, rather than imbuing it with a sense of dread and doom as winter approaches.

Indoors first, since this is a houseplant blog:

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis, unidentified cultivar

Aloe greenii x lineata

Crassula lactea

Three views of Echeveria 'Black Prince.' First the whole plant with bloom stalk, then a closeup of the blooming rosette, then the flowers themselves.

Now for the outdoors. We've had a mild November for the most part, but we've had our frosts at night. Most of the garden has gone to sleep, but there are a couple of things hanging on, and one thing, at least, freshly emerged for the season.

Gaillardia x grandiflora 'Dazzler.' This late planting is still hanging on, well past its usual blooming season.

Mums among the leaves. These Chrysanthemums are past their prime, and a touch frostbitten, but still pretty.

Newly emerged Autumn Crocus. (Crocus pulchellus, I think.) I planted a few earlier this season, and amazingly, the squirrels didn't get them all.

Happy Bloom Day, every day.

Oops! Another Bloom Day Got Past Me

Once again, I missed Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day on the 15th. But since I still have plenty of plants putting on a show in my outdoor garden, I thought I would post some pictures anyway.

From the front yard:

This Rubeckia hirta, which has been in its second bloom cycle of the year for more than a month, has acquired a white ring on the petals as it ages.

Chysanthemum cultivar. I love the orange color.

More Chrysanthemums, which have flopped over a bit. Next year, I might try to keep them trimmed back early in the year ("knee high until the fourth of July") to produce more upright, compact plants. Besides, the cuttings root easily, so I'll have more plants.

A solitary late Lychnis coronaria bloom

We have a new bed in the backyard, which has been a couple of years in the making. Our yard is sloped, so my husband built a retaining wall so that we could have a level bed in this area. However, getting it finished and planted hasn't been our priority until recently. So for about a year, anytime I repotted or discarded a plant, the old potting mix got dumped into the bed. Then when we did decide to finish, we added bagged soil, peat and compost, and Bob tilled everything together with the native soil. The result is a rich, but looser planting medium than the heavy black clay soil on the rest of our property. That, combined with a warm fall, has resulted in fast growth and reblooming of plants that might normally have been done for the season. This is especially gratifying, since along with the fresh new perennials, I purchased some rather ragged discount plants in August, and I wasn't expecting much from them until next year.

From the backyard:

Sedum 'Autumn Fire'

Gallardia x grandiflora 'Dazzler' with some Nepeta x faassenii 'Blue Wonder' (Catmint) on the left.

Another shot of the Gaillardia

Salvia 'May Night,' still going strong in October. I only wish that my Salvia plants out front were this prolific.

Another view of the Salvia, showing part of the wall that Bob built

The Salvia, Nepeta and Gaillardia have been attracting lots and lots of bees for the past few weeks. My stepson Dave, who is my go-to guy for insect identification, tells me that they are honeybees, which makes me happy and hopeful.

You Never Know What You Are Going to Get

Plant genetics can take some surprising turns, even when one doesn't crossbreed plants on purpose. A few days ago, I posted a picture of the lovely Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, (New England Aster) that popped up in my garden unbidden last year.

Volunteer Symphyotrichum novae-angliae

Well, I collected some seeds from that plant last fall. They produced several seedlings, only one of which I managed to plant in my garden (or so I thought).

The result was this:

Blue and pink Asters. In person, the flowers on the right are a deeper shade of pink without the hint of purple seen in the photograph.

As far as I can tell, this is only one plant with two different colored flowers, though it is remotely possible that there were actually two seedlings that came up too close together to notice (or separate) when I was planting them. While I would find the former really cool, (and really surprising) if there are indeed two plants here, the all seeds still all came from the one blue-flowered original. Asters are much beloved by bees and butterflies, so I'm sure that open-pollination contributed some genetic diversity to my plants.

At any rate, I'm going to collect seeds again this year, from the original plant, and from the both the blue and pink flowers here, and see what happens.

Late Bloomers

Well, I totally let this month's Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day (September 15) get by me. But in in the spirit of "better late than never" I'd like to share what's in flower, indoors and out, anyway.

I'm surprised that my Asclepias tuberosa is still blooming intermittently; last year it was done in mid-August, if I recall correctly.

Asclepias seed pods with a pair of Oncopeltus fasciatus, Large Milkweed Bug.

I was able to rejuvenate one of my Rudbeckia hirta plants by cutting off the spent blossoms, causing a bit of late-season back budding. In the background are some weedy wild Asters. I allow several these to stay in my garden because they make nice filler plants in the fall.

Clematis ternifolia or Sweet Autumn Clematis. Believe it or not, there is actually a trellis under that mound of flowers and foliage. I planted both Clematis 'Jackmanii' and the C. ternifolia at the base of my trellises, so I get two season of bloom, with the former flowering in June, and the latter in late August through September.

View with both trellises. The C. ternifolia vines actually trail across the Buddleia planted between them.

Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, (aka Aster novae-angliae or New England Aster). This beautiful plant came up out of nowhere in my garden last year. I have never planted a New England Aster, as I almost never see them for sale around here. So I have no idea where it came from. The nurseries usually carry numerous cultivars of Symphyotrichum novi-belgii (New York Aster.)

Same plant, closer....

And closer still.

I'm still getting a few flowers on my Hibiscus moscheutos

It's life among the weeds in my backyard. This volunteer morning glory (Ipomoea species) came up a few feet from the planter box where I had grown morning glories last year.

Pelargonium behind my Sansevieria hallii. The new Sans leaf that emerged this spring (second from the right) is now the largest on the plant.

Crassula caput minima

Sansevieria ballyii, the only plant actually blooming inside right now

I will try to remember next month's Bloom Day, which coincides with the average first frost day around here, and hope that I will have something still blooming to share.

Tropical and Temperate Beauty

It's been a good year for Hibiscus here among the leaves. I don't usually have serious problems with my Hibiscus rosa-sinensis plants. Oh, there was that attack of aphids a couple of years ago. And there was some serious leaf loss due to underwatering last winter. But with diligent use of insecticidal soap, and a good pruning, all turned out well. They bloom sporadically during their cool months indoors, and more regularly during their summer outdoors.

Hibiscus rosa-sinensis 'Carolina Breeze' enjoying summer on my front stoop.

The cold-hardy garden plant Hibiscus moschuetos is usually another story. Oh, mine grows vigorously enough every year, but it is also the Japanese beetle magnet from hell. While those voracious little demons (Popillia japonica) will eat almost anything, they do especially love the Malvaceae, the family to which Hibiscus belong. They are also particularly drawn to white flowers, which my particular H. moschuetos has. (Alcea, aka hollyhocks, are also in the Malvaceae, and the beetles go after them as well. Strangely, they tend to leave 3 out of my 4 H. rosa-sinensis alone. They do like my peach double-flowered Hibiscus, which has thinner, more tender leaves than the other three.)

So this year, I planned to get rid of the H. moschuetos, since I never got to enjoy the flowers without those nasty bugs crawling all over them. I cut it down to within a few inches of the ground in May or June, with plans to dig it out later. But I never got around to doing so, and the plant started to grow back. This year's beetle season turned out to be quite light, so the foliage remained relatively untouched. And because bud formation was delayed due to the drastic pruning, the plant is just coming into bloom now, instead of its usual bloom time of early August. (The peak of the beetle season is generally July through mid-August in my area, though in heavy infestation years, it can start earlier and go much later. )

Hibiscus moschuetos, cultivar unknown. The photograph doesn't fully capture the tinge of pink at the edges of the petals.

I'm thrilled that for once, I get to fully enjoy both types of Hibiscus in my garden.

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, August 2010

Once again, I am happy to participate in Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. August is a bit of a slow month for blooms in my garden. The flowers of June and July have faded, and the September show of Sedums, Asters, and Sweet Autumn Clematis have not yet begun. And since I tend to grow my houseplants more for foliage and form than flowers, there is not a lot going on there either. But I do have a few things to share.

Indoors:

Aglaonema 'Sethimankong' with its greenish spathe-and-spadix flower

Aglaonema 'Siam Aurora' The white flower stands out against the red-patterned leaves. There is an old spadix visible as well.

Gymnocalycium stenopleurum bud just shy of opening. Photographs of a fully open flower can be seen here, in a post from last October.

Outdoors:

Coreopsis verticillata 'Zagreb'

Salvia nemorosa 'East Friesland.' My older plants are pretty much spent, but the ones I planted in a new bed this spring are still going.

Rudbeckia fulgida 'Goldsturm'

Weigela florida 'Red Prince' June's big show of blooms is long past, but a few new flowers pop up all summer.

I have self-sown Hollyhocks (Alcea rosea) every year; the original planting was in 2005, I think.

Delosperma dyeri cultivar

Container planted with Portulaca grandiflora

A recently purchased Echinacea 'Harvest Moon' planted in a new bed we've made in our backyard. The Echinacea varieties elsewhere in the garden are looking a bit weathered at this point, since they've been in bloom for more than a month.

Here's hoping that every day is a happy bloom day for my fellow gardeners.