Regular walks at night are proving that the population of eastern spadefoots (Scaphiopus holbrookii) in the garden is larger than I thought. Here’s another adult, not as large as the last one I found. After our last evening thunderstorm, Youngest Offspring and I found several recently metamorphosed juveniles which were not so cooperative about photographs.
It is getting more and more difficult to find new plants and animals to feature in a Six on Saturday, but I’m determined to avoid repetition as much as possible.
1. Hedychium deceptum
This hardy ginger from Assam is probably the closest the genus Hedychium comes to a true red. The inflorescence isn’t as large as that of Hedychium ‘Applecourt’, but the individual flowers really are lovely. In overall appearance, this species is very similar to the more commonly grown H. greenii. I have H. greenii as well, but it failed to flower this year–I think it may need to be moved to a new location with more sun and water.
2. Bessera elegans, red form
The flowers of Bessera elegans resemble brightly colored little umbrellas.
Like the orange and purple forms of the species, these little bulbs from Mexico require a warm, dry winter dormancy and would rot if grown in the ground here. I keep them in terracotta pots, stored in a dry corner of the greenhouse over winter. This color form is very similar to the common orange form, but it appears slightly more red and flowers about two weeks earlier. The purple form consistently flowers at least 6-8 weeks earlier, suggesting that it could be reproductively isolated from the other forms if they occur in the same geographic range.
3. Rudbeckia laciniata (cutleaf coneflower)
This vigorous species is native to western North Carolina. About 15 years ago, I obtained a small packet of seed from the North Carolina Botanical Garden. The plants, which can grow to more than 6 ft (2 m) tall, have since spread twenty or thirty feet along the edge of the woods at the back of our house. The inflorescences are somewhat sparsely flowered, but they make an attractive backdrop for smaller plants.
4. Arisaema triphyllum (jack-in-the-pulpit)
At this point in the growth cycle, the stems of A. triphyllum have mostly died back, and the berries often lie flat on the ground or draped across other plants.
The native Arisaema triphyllum has two seasons of interest in the garden: spring, when the unusual flowers pop up among the other woodland wildflowers (see photo 4 here), and early autumn, when the red berries produce splashes of color in the undergrowth. This particular plant has volunteered more than 40 or 50 feet from the nearest deliberately planted specimen, so the seed was presumably transferred in the gut of a bird or small mammal.
5. Anayxrus americanus (American toad)
Our native American and Fowler’s toads can be difficult to tell apart. Based on the morphology of the postorbital ridges, large warts on its legs, and speckled belly, I believe this supercilious-looking fellow (or lady) is an American toad.
6. Katydid (Tettigoniidae)
For most of the summer, the nocturnal serenade has been primarily the work of katydids (family Tettigoniidae) high in the trees. As the weather starts to cool into autumn, true crickets (Gryllidae) and mole crickets (Gryllotalpidae) are taking over. I spotted this katydid at night, after rain. Unfortunately, I have no idea which of the various native genera and species it is.
Jim at Garden Ruminations is the host of Six on Saturday. Head over there to see his Six for this week and find links to the blogs of other participants.
I have posted before about our annual escape-the-heat week in eastern Maine. Usually we go in August, just before the start of school, but this year, for the first time, we visited in June. The fishing wasn’t as good, but on our hikes I was excited to see a completely different array of wildflowers than those flowering in August.
Anyone who has read Miss Rumphius to a child knows that lupines (Lupinus polyphyllus) are a defining feature of Maine in the summer. The book’s argument that we “must do something to make the world more beautiful” is a lesson to live by, but unfortunately the plants Miss Rumphius loved are an invasive species in Maine and have the potential to crowd out native plants. Despite their controversial nature, I couldn’t resist photographing a few plants (though I just now realized that the two photos I chose to show here were actually taken on a day-trip to New Brunswick, not in Maine).
Lupines flowering on Campobello Island, NB. In the distance across Friar Roads (part of Passamaquoddy Bay) is Eastport, Maine.A field of Lupines on Campobello Island with the bridge across to Lubec, Maine in the background.
The rest of the plants in this post are native species.
Shorelines
The shore of Great Wass Island.
On previous visits to Maine, I became aware that there are two species of Iris that grow along the shore, but I was unable to distinguish them based on their foliage. This year, they were in full bloom and quite obviously different:
Iris hookeri
Iris hookeri, the beach-head iris, is the smaller of the two species. It is distinguished by very small, almost vestigial standards (petals). This means that the flower is dominated by the falls (sepals), giving it a flattened appearance.
Iris versicolor growing close to the sea but sheltered from wind and spray by a large granite boulder.
Iris versicolor, northern blue flag, is generally taller than I. hookeri. Its flowers have relatively large standards that somewhat resemble donkey ears, and they are often more purple than the flowers of I. hookeri, which tend towards lavender.
Iris hookeri seems to be restricted to rocky headlands and shorelines, where it survives the harshest imaginable conditions. Some plants were growing out of cracks in the granite, just above the high tide line, where a small amount of organic material had collected. I. versicolor grows inland but also along the shoreline. It seems to prefer wetter conditions than I. hookeri and is generally higher up the shore, close to the treeline, especially where tannin-stained water seeps out of the peaty soil and trickles towards the sea or forms little ponds trapped behind granite boulders.
At two locations, Great Wass Island and Liberty Point on Campobello Island, I saw both species growing within a few feet of each other. I. hookeri did tend to be in more exposed locations than I. versicolor, but where I. versicolor ventured out onto the rocks, the plants were stunted and barely larger than I. hookeri. It was almost impossible to distinguish the two species by leaf size and location alone. At Schoodic Point in Acadia National Park, I observed only I. versicolor growing among the rocks, despite informational signs indicating the presence of I. hookeri.
Growing in the same habitat, sometimes among the roots of I. hookeri, I also saw a smaller member of the iris family:
Sisyrhinchium montanum with larger leaves of Iris hookeri in the background
Sisyrhinchium montanum, common blue-eyed grass, is slightly larger, with more intensely colored flowers, than S. angustifolium which grows in my lawn in North Carolina.
Other flowers that I saw on the rocks along the shoreline were a gorgeous little mat-forming succulent, Lysimachia maritima (sea milkwort), and a beautiful member of the pea family, Laythrus japonicus (beach pea). L. japonicus has an incredibly wide range, encompassing the temperate shorelines of North America (Atlantic and Pacific), South America, Europe, and Asia, because its seeds can survive floating in the sea for several years.
Lysimachia maritima Lathyrus japonicus
Hillsides, bogs, and woodland
Schoodic Peninsula, the view from “the Anvil” on the hike down from Schoodic Head. Schoodic Point is at left, Mount Desert Island center across Frenchman Bay, and the flat-topped Schoodic Head at right.
Inland, on rocky hilltops and in the small bogs that form in depressions in the granite, the most interesting flowers were those of various ericaceous shrubs. We usually see their berries ripening in August, but as with the irises, this was the first time I had seen most of them flowering.
In dry areas, the bright magenta flowers of Kalmia angustifolia (sheep laurel, lambkill) were hard to miss.
Two clones of Kalmia angustifolia, one with pinkish stamens (above) and one with white stamens (below). I’m not sure if the difference is genetic or relates to the age of the flowers.
A second species, Kalmia polifolia (bog laurel) was, as suggested by its name, most common in boggy areas.
Kalmia polifolia
The two species have very similar flowers but can be distinguished by their growth habit. K. angustifolia flowers after new growth has started, so the flowers generally sit below the new twig, while the flowers of K. polifolia are terminal, emerging at the end of the twig. In addition, the leaves of K. angustifolia have relatively long petioles, while those of K. polifolia are sessile, with no petiole separating the leaf blade from the twig. Both species are close relatives of mountain laurel, though they are much smaller, generally only growing a couple of feet tall.
Larger shrubs that were flowering included Gaylussacia baccata (black huckleberry) on dry rocky slopes and two rhododendron species in boggy areas.
Happy Earth Day! This would be an obvious day for working in the garden, but unfortunately we will have thunderstorms rolling through for most of the day (though luckily the potential for tornadoes seems to be southeast of our location). Here are a few pictures taken this morning before the rain, rounded out with a couple taken earlier this week.
1. Paeonia ‘America’
I planted this herbaceous peony about three years ago. It produced its first buds last year, but they all froze and aborted. This year, two buds survived, and I finally have the first flower. Each day, the flower starts to open after I leave for work and closes before I get home, so it was tricky to get a photo. The flower is already closing in this picture, and I only saw it partially open because I left work early to catch eldest offspring’s last high school tennis match.
2. Paeonia obovata (Japanese woodland peony)
This peony does well the shade under a dogwood, where it grows among trilliums and Calanthe orchids. The white-flowered form sometimes goes by Paeonia japonica, but Kew lists that name as a synonum of P. obovata.
This native woodland shrub is famed for its fragrance, which is often compared to fresh strawberries. My plant smells more like overripe fruit–not horrible, but not something I’d seek out. If buying one to grow close to the house, it’s probably best to shop for plants in flower and give them a sniff test before laying down your money.
4. Actias luna (luna moth)
Luna moths only live for a few days after completing metamorphosis, and this one was at the end of its lifespan. It could no longer fly, and was fluttering weakly across the lawn this morning.
5. Quercus phellos (willow oak) growing on Juniperus virginiana (eastern red cedar)
Not in my garden, but local, are two of my favorite individual trees. The pale green leaves are a small willow oak which is growing epiphytically on a red cedar. The oak must have grown from an acorn that fell or was deposited by a squirrel into a crack in the trunk of a red cedar. Enough water and organic debris sifts down to keep the oak alive, and I have been watching it grow slowly for almost a decade. Each spring, it’s always encouraging to see that the little oak has survived another year.
6. Allium schoenoprasum (chives)
Garlic chives, Allium tuberosum, seem to be more vigorous in this climate, but this little clump of chives is doing fairly well. It’s in a raised bed shared with walking onions and garlic chives, which are permanent residents of the bed, and two varieties of garlic (softneck and hardneck), which will be harvested in June.
Jim at Garden Ruminations is the host of Six on Saturday. Head over there to see his Six for this week and find links to the blogs of other participants.
Iris albicans, the white cemetery iris, is a fairly plain, average-looking bearded iris, and its flowers, though a pristine white apart from the yellowish beard, cannot hold a candle to more intensely colored hybrids. So why bother to grow it? It’s the backstory that makes this plant interesting. I. albicans is reported to be sterile and is thought to be a natural hybrid of two species native to the Arabian peninsula. It is widely naturalized along the Mediterranean coast as far as Spain and Portugal and may have been cultivated, and propagated by division, for >1000 years. The story goes that the plants were carried from their original Arabian homeland during the Muslim conquests of Anatolia, north Africa and Spain, and they were traditionally planted at grave sites, a practice that continued among Christians when Spaniards brought the plants to the new world following the Reconquista.
So, that’s the story. It’s romantic and even plausible given what is known about the plant’s distribution, and more-or-less the same tale has been repeated in books and journals for the past century (see here for an early example in the Bulletin of the American Iris Society, October, 1925). There are a few holes in the narrative, though. As far as I can tell, there are no primary sources documenting the spread of I. albicans through the Muslim lands during the middle ages (not that we would expect there to be), and no one seems to know the species that were its putative parents.
But it’s a great story. I, for one, am going to assume it is true.
Physically, I. albicans is a fairly small bearded iris. Its gray-green foliage is more compact than the more modern hybrids that circulate among North Carolina gardeners, and the inflorescence is likewise short with stubby branches. The buds form very early in the year and are often damaged by freezing weather. Last year, they all froze just before opening. This year, we had generally mild weather in February and March, and I managed to see some flowers by covering the plants with buckets on several nights in late March when the temperature dipped below 28 F (-2.2 C). I think it’s at close to its northern limit in my garden, and the plants seem to be more commonly grown in the gulf coast states.
It’s been a while since I have had the time to put togethera Six on Saturday post. Spring is well underway here in the North Carolina piedmont. The early Narcissus have long finished flowering, and only late-flowering clones like ‘Thalia’ and ‘Golden Bells’ are still in bloom. Azaleas are just getting started. The native pinxter flower, Rhododendron periclymenoides is in full bloom, and the buds are opening on Florida flame azalea (R. austrinum). My hardy Calanthe and Bletilla orchids were hit hard by a freeze after a prolonged frost-free spell, and many of their new growths were turned to mush. It remains to be seen how many flowers they’ll make this year.
Here are six plants from the greenhouse and garden that I haven’t featured before.
1. Rhododendron ‘Aravir’
‘Aravir’ is another of the modern vireya (tropical Rhododendron) hybrids. Its parentage is R. konori x (‘Pink Delight’ x jasminiflorum), which may explain its similarity to the Victorian ‘Princess Alexandra’ (R. ‘Princess Royal’ x jasminiflorum). The parentage of ‘Pink Delight’ is unknown*, but it is supposedly an old Veitch hybrid, so probably similar to ‘Princess Royal’. I got this plant as an unrooted cutting about 2 1/2 years ago, and this is the first time I have seen it flower. I am currently experiencing (hopefully temporary) post-COVID anosmia, so I can’t say much about its fragrance. I can barely detect a scent, which probably means that it is very strongly scented. Like all vireyas, this plant is not frost-hardy. I grow it in the greenhouse in winter and outdoors under shade cloth in summer.
This is one of a group of vireya hybrids with names drawn from the Chronicles of Narnia. ‘Aravir’ refers to the Narnian morning star.
*Update 12/22/2023: The late John Swisher, a Floridian vireya grower, suggested that ‘Pink Delight’ was identical to Rhododendron ‘Taylori’, a well known Veitch hybrid (Vireya Vine #3). If so, R. ‘Aravir’ is a great grandchild of R. ‘Princess Alexandra’ with several doses of R. jasminiflorum and R. javanicum in its background:
2. Columnea crassifolia
This beautiful epiphytic gesneriad is from Guatemala, so it is a greenhouse plant. The large hummingbird-pollinated flowers are similar to its relative C. microcalyx (syn. gloriosa), but while the stems of C. microcalyx hang limp or creep along a surface, those of C. crassifolia are rigid. This plant flowers most of the winter and on-and-off during the summer. Like R. ‘Aravir’, it goes outside under shade cloth once the danger of frost is past.
3. Taraxacum albidum (Japanese white dandelion)
When growing dandelions for chicken snacks and salad greens, it’s fun to try unusual varieties. Last year we flowered the pink dandelion (Taraxacum pseudoroseum), and this year white dandelions are getting started. Taraxacum pseudoroseum wasn’t very pink, but T. albidum is definitely a more pure white. Since dandelions can be persistent weeds, we keep them in pots and clip off inflorescences before the seeds are mature.
4. Camellia ‘Rosehill Red’
Not much to say about this; it’s a very nice Camellia japonica cultivar. I tend not to like double and semi-double flowers, but these ones aren’t too fussy looking. It is beside Camellia ‘Yuletide’ which flowers in early winter, so I get an extended shot of red color in that part of the garden.
5. Muscari armeniacum ‘Touch of Snow’
These little guys that I planted last autumn are a little difficult to find in the garden, but they’ll become more obvious as they start to form clumps. They make a nice change from the more typical purple grape hyacinths.
6. Hyacinthus ‘Woodstock’
I had a little trouble finding six flowers that I hadn’t featured before, so I’ll slip in these hyacinths which actually flowered a couple of weeks ago. Like the Muscari ‘Touch of Snow’, I planted them last autumn, so this was my first look at the flowers. My wife was the one who picked them out of the catalog, but I very much like the intense magenta color which darkens to purple at the base of the flower. Quite possibly my favorite Hyacinth now.
Jim at Garden Ruminations is the host of Six on Saturday. Head over there to see his Six for this week and find links to the blogs of other participants.
Sweetgum and Pines 