Miscanthus purpurascens (Flame Grass) |
Miscanthus purpurascens (Flame Grass) |
Sedum ‘Autumn Fire’ |
Pennisetum ‘Hameln’ |
Boltonia ‘Pink Beauty’ |
Boltonia ‘Pink Beauty’ |
Pink Physostegia (Obedient plant) |
Dwarf Pink Phlox |
Quick one today.
I have a Caryopteris ‘Sunshine Blue’ that has literally been relocated five times over the past five years. First it outgrew its location, then it didn’t get enough sun, then I didn’t like that it was in too prominent of a location and sprung to life too late in spring … and I don’t remember the reasons for the other moves but I’m sure they were more than valid.
Now I’m ready for move number six. Here is how she looks today:
Overall size is super small as I know it can get close to three feet high and wide. We’re talking about a foot and a half current day. The blooms are also very weak as I’ve seen these blooms their butts off and it is oh so welcome this time of year.
So without a thought of where it was going to be situated next, I dug it up and immediately new what the problem was:
If you have read this blog before you aren’t surprised. Poor drainage … let me rephrase that “brutally bad drainage”. I can’t believe it performed even this well considering this deciduous shrub needs a well drained soil. How I ever moved it here is beyond my comprehension but the deer really did leave it alone. Must be that sweet lemony scent of the leaves.
So after some willy nilly careful planning, I found a new home for the drenched plant:
Six times is a charm, right?
It better be, those blooms are a sight for sore eyes and I need more of them:
AUG 2017 UPDATE: After reading this post, read here to see the latest on my beloved Monarda.
I guess it was inevitable.
With all the rain we’ve had the past few weeks and the high humidity to go with it, I knew there was a good chance that the powdery mildew would rear its ugly head. And today it did, on a bunch of my Monarda (Bee Balm) plants:
These perennials are susceptible to this fungus so it wasn’t much of a shock. This particular cultivar – ‘Colrain Red’ – is supposed to be mildew resistant and I haven’t had an issue with it since I first purchased these two years ago. But they have all nearly doubled/tripled in size since I first planted them:
So I think now that the Bee Balm have less air circulation due to their ever expanding clumps, I’ll need to thin out the stems earlier in the spring to help fend off the powdery white stuff. Spraying any type of chemicals on these plants is never an option; I don’t do chemicals and I’m too busy moving plants around to even try any of the more natural methods.
I’ve learned over the years that the powdery mildew fungi typically overwinters in plant debris and the spores are then transferred to the plants through some combination of wind, water that splashes up on the plants or even through visiting critters. As referenced earlier, there are specific conditions in the garden that make mildew a distinct possibility:
1. Wet conditions due to heavy rains or excessive overhead watering on the plants leaves
2. Humidity
3. Lack of air circulation due to plant overcrowding
4. Plants that are known to be susceptible to powdery mildew (bee balm, phlox, lilacs, etc.)
Knowing there is really no means to treat the mildew, I figured my best bet was to simply cut down all of the stems of the Monarda and dispose of them, hoping to remove all of the affected parts of the plant:
I also made sure all of the leaves that had already fallen from the plants were scooped up and disposed of as well:
I’m not worried that this fungus will have any long term affect on the health of these perennials and plan on enjoying them for years to come:
There aren’t too many plants that are ignored by the deer, are cool with wet feet, smell damn good (others may disagree), bloom for long periods of time and can fill in an empty space in no time. A little whiteness on their leaves from time to time still seems worth it.
But only time will tell.
I’m really putting myself out there today.
I’ve been working feverishly all day and night on my first film and the official trailer is to follow. It is of the “garden horror” genre (which I’m pretty sure I invented) and big things are expected of me. The movie studio that has backed me financially is promising a multi-picture deal if this one pans out.
So crank the volume, grab your significant other and count on a little less sleep tonight.
I give you “Garden Deceived”:
I have tried countless times to keep Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa) alive in my garden and have failed each and every time … until a few weeks ago.
This spring I had purchased a few of these butterfly loving perennials and stuck them in the ground in an inconspicuous place, just to see if I could get them to grow with one last attempt. If they didn’t thrive, so be it. I finally came to grips with the fact that they prefer a dry soil and that is exactly the opposite of what I have to offer in my yard.
As expected, these plants virtually disappeared within weeks of being planted to the point that I even forgot that they even existed. But then one day, a few weeks ago, I noticed a sweet pop of orange out of the corner of my eye. I immediately ran over and when I realized that two of the Butterfly Weed plants had miraculously recovered, I fell to my knees and thanked the Lord for presenting me with such a miracle:
I didn’t even care that the orange color looked completely out of place when compared to other nearby flowers. This was one of those surprises that gardeners get all giddy over.
Because I had failed with this plant so many times in the past, I had no idea that they formed seed pods and was equally excited to discover these just the other day:
Now I am way anxious to watch these open up and disperse to their heart’s content and hopefully, I’ll find some more of these next spring. This is what keeps gardening so damn interesting for me.
On the other end of the spectrum, we have Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) which started off with a bang after planting a bunch this spring:
As anticipated, they were a magnet for all sorts of creatures. I would just stand there for minutes on end and watch the visitors stop by and hang out and drink the magical nectar.
But once the blooms dried up, things got nasty.
The aphids have absolutely taken over and dirtied up the joint.
I considered the options on how to remove them but settled on doing nothing. If that is how nature wanted it, who am I to get in the way? Plus, we are talking a complete aphid inundation so they are beyond hope. My plan now is to leave them be (luckily they are out of plain view) and see if they end up doing any permanent damage. From all accounts, they should be just fine so I am not all that worried.
Another learning experience and another reason why … gardening is so damn interesting to me.
Have a great long weekend.
I never shut off “garden analysis mode”. Never.
I am evaluating when I take the dog out for a walk.
I am studying when I take the garbage to the curb.
I am projecting plant growth three years into the future as I throw the football with my son.
I am mentally relocating shrubs while burning the chicken on the grill.
The entire exercise is more of a curse than a blessing. While it keeps my mind active and stokes the creative fire, I can never shut it off. I am thinking about the hideous state of my Sneezeweed plants as I type this sentence (more on that in an upcoming post – Grrrrrrr).
But what I have discovered over the last three years while authoring this blog, is that this type of affliction makes for good post fodder. I feel better as I pour my heart out and hopefully, you can relate in some way, leave me a kind comment to let me know I’m not alone and we can all sleep well at night. Win/Win … actually, Win/Win/Win/Win.
With that in mind, I’d like to introduce a new blog series that ideally, will accomplish what I just outlined in the previous paragraph. I am calling it “I Have to Friggin Move That”. It may be the simple relocation of an ornamental grass to a more strategic locale or the moving of an overgrown conifer or even the violent upheaval of a bunch of perennials that are making it difficult for me to concentrate on anything else.
You get the idea.
So now I will provide you with the first story in a series that will not only force me to take the appropriate corrective actions so I have blog material, but will also stimulate gardening conversation. That is always a good thing.
Please take a close look at the two shrubs in the middle of the photo below:
Actually, here is a closer shot of said shrubs that will drive home my point in a much more obvious way:
The shrub on the left is a Viburnum ‘Aurora’ and the shrub on the right is Hydrangea ‘Endless Summer’. I see these two shrubs each and every day as I walk up my front walkway. They have been together for a few months now, ever since I relocated the Viburnum to a deer-free zone back in the Spring. I was only getting two to three blooms on this gem of a deciduous shrub each April as the deer were nipping off the buds in Summer/Fall.
I have been brutally unhappy with this pairing as they are too similar in leaf shape, color and overall size. Because of that, they look really bad situated next to each other. Like really bad. Like a good gardener would never dream of that combo bad. On top of that, I am way down on ‘Endless Summer’ as the blooms are always weak and the shrub itself fails to impress year after year. I have been moving that Hydrangea in my mind for too long and I needed to take action for my own sanity.
And I finally friggin did it:
The Hydrangea was moved to a location where it will have one last chance to show me that it is worth keeping and I moved an Arborvitae ‘Sherwood Frost’ a few feet from its prior location. The Viburnum and the Arborvitae will now have sufficient room to grow and there is a nice contrast in texture between the two new bedfellows:
I have lost the love for Arborvitaes over the past few years but this one caught my eye with its variegated foliage and white “frost” on the new growth. I especially look forward to seeing how it performs in the Winter:
The entire work effort took about ten minutes but it was oh so worth it.
Check another one off. I’ll be able to sleep just a little bit better tonight knowing this is officially off of the mental to-do list.
Chelone glabra (White Turtlehead) |
Chelone lyonii ‘Hot Lips’ (Pink Turtlehead) |
Hydrangea ‘Little Lime’ |
Northern Sea Oats |
Panicum ‘Northwind’ (Switch Grass) |
Good times.
Itea ‘Henry’s Garnet |
Viburnum ‘Shoshoni’ |
Hydrangea ‘Endless Summer’ |
Viburnum ‘Aurora’ |
For real, you couldn’t have waited a few more weeks? There is plenty of time in late September and all of October to get all Fall foliage-y and stuff. Enough already.
Luckily, we still have some who are acting much more weather and seasonally appropriate:
Variegated Weigela and Petunia |
Eastern Tiger Swallowtail |
Eastern Tiger Swallowtail |
And it wasn’t only foliage changes occurring way ahead of my preferred schedule. Viburnum berries could hold off for at least a few weeks and be just fine:
Viburnum ‘Emerald Lustre’ |
Viburnum ‘Emerald Lustre’ |
And Miscanthus blooms before September is simply a travesty:
Miscanthus purpurascens (Flame Grass) |
Even the deer seemed out of whack. They didn’t move a bit as I approached them:
It was in the low 90’s and humid today and I loved every minute of it. It is Summer and this is what Summer is. Autumn will be here in due time and we’ll enjoy it when it arrives.
But for now, back the hell off and wait your turn.