I am reasonably certain that we are past the last frost, which means that spring is going on all cylinders. Because we did not have a sudden hard freeze after a long period of mild weather this year, the orchids and other spring-flowering plants that are frost tender when in new growth are flowering especially well (see above). The only plants that aren’t having a very good year are some of my azaleas. That’s because a dead pine tree fell sometime during the winter and clipped the deer fence where it is out of sight behind the shed. Deer noticed the break in the fence before I did, and availed themselves of the exotic buffet in my garden. Most azaleas were heavily browsed and only have scattered flowers on twigs that the deer missed. The hoofed pests also defoliated a couple of camellias and mowed the flowers and leaves off cyclamens.
1. Rhododendron species? Possibly R. canescens (piedmont azalea) or hybrid?
My deciduous azaleas mostly escaped damage, because the deer were looking for foliage, not bare twigs. I purchased this plant as Rhododendron alabamense from the NCBG, but it lacks the white flowers and lemon yellow blotch typical of that species. It looks to me more like a mislabeled R. canescens. However, natural hybrids of R. canescens x R. alabamense also occur where the two species’ ranges overlap, so I can’t rule out that possibility. In any case, it is beautiful and fragrant.
2. Aronia arbutifolia (red chokeberry)
I have been growing this stoloniferous native shrub in the rose family for about a decade, but it has inexplicably escaped any mention on the blog. It gives me these beautiful little flowers in spring and bright red berries for the birds in autumn. It is slowly spreading through a bed beside our raised deck, but its branches are so sparse and open that it doesn’t choke out or shade smaller plants. Currently, the tallest stems are about 8-9 ft tall (~2.5 m), so the flowers can be enjoyed from the deck.
3. Halesia diptera (two-winged silverbell)
This little tree, which grows wild from South Carolina to Florida and Texas, is closely related to our native Halesia tetraptera (picture 5, here). I planted it 16 years ago close to our front door where it is shaded by larger hardwood trees. It grows very slowly and seems to be flowering better after I cut down several branches of black cherry (Prunus serotina) that were leaning over it. H. diptera flowers about two weeks after H. tetraptera, so unlike the native species, it doesn’t have to compete for attention with the more flamboyant flowering dogwoods (Cornus florida).
4. Phlox divaricata (woodland phlox)
This is another long-time garden resident that has somehow escaped being featured on the blog. It’s a very lovely native plant for the shade garden, where it spreads slowly and plays well with others. Its only negative feature is that it is irresistible to cottontail rabbits. If there are any bunnies in the garden, the phlox is invariably mowed to the ground.
5. Anemone coronaria (poppy anemone)
The Anemone coronaria are still going strong. Here’s a white-flowered clone.
6. Podophyllum peltatum (mayapple)
The woods around my garden, and indeed, all over this region, are currently filled with colonies of mayapples (Podophyllum peltatum). P. peltatum is a classic spring ephemeral. The foliage and single flower, which dangles under the leaf, appear suddenly in spring. After fruiting the plants go dormant, and usually they have all disappeared by early summer. Fully ripe fruit are edible and supposedly delicious, but don’t eat the toxic seeds or unripe fruit! I have resisted adding this species to the garden itself because it spreads so vigorously, but it is certainly a lovely sight in the woods.
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.
Psychopsis versteegiana flowering in my greenhouse this morning
Psychopsis is a small genus of neotropical orchids often referred to as butterfly orchids for obvious reasons. Their flowers are large and showy and are generally held one at a time on a long, wiry inflorescence. As the flowers dance and bob in the slightest breeze, they really do resemble butterflies.
Psychopsis papilio. This inflorescence has branched, so three flowers are present at once–a somewhat unusual situation.
The plants are fairly small and have tightly clustered pseudobulbs, each bearing one or two leathery leaves. The leaves of some species and hybrids are beautifully mottled with reddish pigment. They are all reasonably easy to grow if kept warm and grown in a small pot with fairly moisture retentive mix. Their roots resent disturbance, so it is best to use long-lasting potting materials. I have had good luck growing them under lights in terracotta pots with long-fiber sphagnum and in the greenhouse in plastic pots with a more open mix of sphagnum and lava rock. Although the flowers are produced one at a time, the inflorescence is successive blooming and can continue to produce new buds one after another for several years. Never cut a Psychopsis inflorescence until you are sure that it is completely dead and dried up.
Closeup of Psychopsis papilio column and the shield-like structure at the base of the labellumPsychopsis krameriana
First bloom of Paphiopedilum glanduliferum, two flowers on a single inflorescence.
Currently flowering for the first time in my greenhouse is a seedling of Paphiopedilum glanduliferum that I purchased several years ago. My plant came labeled as Paphiopedilum praestans, not P. glanduliferum, and behind those two names lurks the sort of controversy that gets orchid growers all hot and bothered and spawns fiery internet arguments. In a nutshell: descriptions of new orchid species are generally based on a limited number of specimens which may not represent all of the significant variation present in wild populations. Furthermore, herbarium specimens get lost, damaged, mislabeled, etc., and information in older descriptions may not be complete or fully accurate. Consequently, it’s not uncommon for the same orchid species to be described twice or, alternatively, plants considered to be the same species may actually be distinct.
So, two small, fairly similar slipper orchid species from New Guinea were described, Paphiopedilum glanduliferum in 1892 and Paphiopedilum praestans in 1894. Plants matching P. glanduliferum have not been seen since the original description, while P. praestans has been collected many times and is reasonably common in cultivation. There are basically two explanations for this state of affairs: either P. glanduliferum is very rare, possibly even extinct, or both names refer to a single variable species. The latter viewpoint is reflected in Plants of the World Online from the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew which considers P. praestans a later synonym of P. glanduliferum. The former has been argued by some well-known botanists and orchidists, and there’s a general tendency for orchid growers to prefer splitting over lumping–it gives us more plants to collect.
For now, I’m labeling my seedling P. glanduliferum, but the original nursery tag bearing the label “Paph. praestans” is buried in the pot where it won’t get lost. In any case, this is a tidy, compact plant with a relatively short inflorescence, not as spectacular as the large multifloral species, but probably a good choice for a bright windowsill or light garden with limited space.
Heddal stave church (Heddal stavkirke), built in the early 1200s.
How about a travelogue post? These photos were taken in 2019, and this post has been lurking, half-completed, in my drafts folder for several years. Luckily, flower and landscape pictures don’t become outdated, so I can still polish it up and post it.
Our last big adventure before the COVID pandemic was a trip to southern Norway in June of 2019. It was the first trip to that beautiful country for my wife and kids, and the first time I had been back since 1985. There were some cool plants to be seen.
Getting there and back again
Our plan was to fly Raleigh-Newark-Oslo, spend a couple of days in museums, and then drive across across to Stavanger on the west coast where I lived for a little over four years as a teenager. After about a week exploring southern Rogaland, we’d drive back to Oslo and fly home.
The flying part turned out to be not so easy. Thunderstorms on the east coast of the U.S. caused an unscheduled five-hour stopover at Dulles. We missed our connection and had to stay overnight in a ratty hotel in Newark before flying out the next day via Stockholm. On our return, storms again stranded us in Newark. With no hotel vacancies, not even ratty ones, and no flights available for days, we stood in line for about six hours to rent a car and then drove ten hours while jetlagged. Not fun.
On the other hand, renting a car in Norway was an inspired idea. In some countries (UK and Ireland, I’m looking at you), driving puts my blood pressure through the roof, but driving through southern Norway was thoroughly enjoyable. Speed limits were slow, drivers were civilized, and roads, tunnels, bridges, and ferries were in great condition…and the scenery was fantastic. We ended up with a hybrid RAV4 from Hertz that turned out to be the perfect size–big enough for our luggage and fishing rods, small enough to maneuver down narrow mountain roads.
Oslo and a road trip to the west
Due to the delay in Newark, we had only one afternoon in Oslo, just long enough to visit the Viking Ship Museum and the Vikingr exhibit at the Museum of Cultural History. The kids were suitably impressed by the thousand-year-old Oseberg and Gokstad ships. It never ceases to amaze me that norse mariners could cross the north Atlantic, the “old grey widow-maker”, in vessels like the Gokstad ship.
Interlocked animal carvings decorate the prow of the viking-era Oseberg Ship
The next day, we started our road trip to Stavanger. The drive can easily be made in a single day along the south coast, but we decided to take the inland route, following E134 through Viken and Vestfold og Telemark counties, with an overnight stop half-way.
At lunch time, we stopped for a couple of hours to explore Heddal stave church (see top photo). Then we continued on to the Haukelifjell Guesthouse, where we spent the night (highly recommended: not fancy, but friendly, clean, and comfortable with good, simple food). After supper, we took advantage of the long-lit summer evening and explored the shore of Vågslivatnet, the lake adjacent to the guesthouse. In seeps along the shoreline, I found two species of carnivorous plants: Drosera intermedia (oblong-leaf sundew) and Pinguicula vulgaris (common butterwort), the latter in full bloom.
On drier ground the beautiful flowers of Silene dioica, red campion, were common:
Silene dioica
The next day’s drive was one of the most enjoyable and scenic in my experience. Shortly after leaving Haukelifjell Gjestehus, our route took us up above the treeline, where there was still snow in late June. In the absence of trees, the plant life was mostly hardy grasses and low-growing ericaceous shrubs.
View of Ulevåvatnet from the side of E134 near Røldal.
At Røldal, we left E134 and headed south on country road (Fylkesvei; Fv.) 520. At this point, we were on the Scenic Route Ryfylke. The narrow road took us up over the mountains and then down to sea level at Sauda, a little town at the north end of Saudafjorden. Just south of Sauda, we stopped at Svandalsfossen, a huge waterfall that tumbles down the hillside and cascades under the road just before it plunges into the fjord.
A big waterfall (this is just the top half). There are lots of them in Norway. Valeriana officinalis (wild valerian) growing beside Svandalsfossen
Climbing the stairway beside Svandalsfossen was fun, but lets face it, waterfalls are dime-a-dozen in Norway. I was more interested in a side trip to Sand, a little south of where Saudafjorden merges with Sandsfjorden. The village of Sand sits on the banks of Suldalslagen, one of Norway’s salmon rivers, and just outside of town is Laksestudio Suldal, an underwater viewing window where you can watch wild atlantic salmon and sea trout (anadromous brown trout) make their way upstream to spawn. We were a few weeks early for the main salmon run, but there were still some impressive fish to be seen.
Salmon and sea trout seen through the window of Laksestudio SuldalSuldalslagen. Just upstream of Laksestudio Suldal is Høsebrua, a pedestrian bridge with open mesh floor that allows you to watch the river flowing under your feet.
After Sand, our route took us along Sandsfjorden and Jøsenfjorden, and then across country to Tau. After a final ferry ride (replaced in 2020 by the new Ryfast tunnel system under the fjord), we were in Stavanger, almost exactly 34 years after I left.
Around Stavanger and a little further afield
In Stavanger, we visited with old friends, went fishing at my favorite spots along the fjord, and took in some of the great sights in the vicinity. One afternoon, we drove a few miles north of town to the island of Åmøy. The eastern part of the island, Austre Åmøy, is famous for its bronze age rock carvings. When I was a kid, visiting the carvings was an all-day school field trip involving a ferry ride, but now a bridge and undersea tunnel took us to the island in less than half an hour.
Austre Åmøy shoreline
The carvings were a little tricky to find–down a narrow lane, through a farm gate, across a sheep pasture, and through a little wood–but were well worth the effort.
Carved ships, approximately 3000 years old, with vertical lines representing rowers.Sedum anglicum (English stonecrop)on Austre Åmøy
South of Stavanger, we visited two sites in the Magma UNESCO Geopark: Gloppedalsura and Trollpikken. I had visited Gloppedalen and its giant scree many times as a child, but Trollpikken was new to me.
A small part of Gloppedalsura. The scree fills the valley from mountain-side to mountain-side, and many of the boulders are the size of a house. Big rocks with juvenile Homo sapiens for scale.
Trollpikken is a rock formation with interesting shape. In the United States, it would probably be named the Devil’s Finger, or something similar. Youngest offspring asked if Trollpikken means “the troll’s nose.” Nope:
The land around Trollpikken is a fascinating combination of barren rocks and lush green. The soil in the little valleys and crevices among the rocks is sphagnum peat, and it harbors a number of interesting plant species.
A view from the hiking trail to Trollpikken. Norway gets more than 90% of its electricity from hydroelectric installations, but clearly the wind blowing across these barren hills was worth harnessing.Echium vulgare (viper’s bugloss) adjacent to the Trollpikken parking lotEchium vulgareDactylorhiza sp. (marsh orchid) growing in a small bog beside a streamDactylorhiza sp.Drosera rotundifolia (spoonleaf sundew)Eriophorum sp. (cotton grass)Trollpikken in all its glory
Preikestolen
When in Rogaland, you must hike up to Preikestolen (the Pulpit Rock) to enjoy the amazing views of Lysefjorden and the complete lack of safety barriers. I had fond memories of childhood scrambles to the top and was eager to introduce my children to the joys of peeking over the edge. On the way up, I spotted more Drosera intermedia and Pinguicula vulgaris, and some nice clumps of Cornus suecica (bunchberry). The latter species is very similar to Cornus canadensis, which we often find in Maine, but Cornus suecica is more of a bog or heath species, while C. canadensis prefers woodland.
Cornus suecica (bunchberry)Lysefjorden seen from 600 m above sea level.The kids celebrating their arrival on top of Preikestolen.
A friend’s garden
Primula vialii (orchid primrose) in Morten’s garden
One of the high points of the trip was meeting up with my childhood friend Morten and seeing his garden in Sandnes. As teenagers, Morten and I both kept aquarium fish. My aquarium was usually stuffed with every oddball fish that I could lay my hands on, the stranger-looking the better, while Morten’s aquariums were beautifully aquascaped, with plants and fish always in perfect harmony. Our gardens follow along the same lines. In Morten’s lovely garden, I was very interested to see plants that I could never grow successfully through a hot North Carolina summer. Paradoxically, North Carolina is also too cold for several South American species that can be grown in the mild climate of coastal Norway, where temperatures are buffered by the surrounding sea and gently warmed by the Gulf Stream.
Araucaria araucana, the famous monkey puzzle tree from Chile. Candelabra primrose (probably Primula x bulleesiana) I was completely amazed to see a Gunnera sp. (giant rhubarb) growing in Norway. Gunnera inflorescence. Morten told me that he mulched the rhizome with its own leaves to protect it in winter.
Heading home
Sooner than we would have liked, it was time to head for home. We had planned to stick to the coast, passing through Kristiansand on our way back to Oslo, but heavy traffic induced us to try a less crowded inland route starting near Egersund. I am glad we did, because we stumbled across Terland Klopp, an early-19th century stone bridge surrounded by gorgeous foxgloves.
Terland Klopp
And then vacation was over, and it was just a matter of catching our flight back to the U.S.
A not-very-good photo of Liparis lilifolia. Its brownish flowers are difficult to spot in the leaf litter and even harder to photograph satisfactorily.
After sixteen years, I thought I had found all of the interesting plant species growing on our property, so I was very surprised to stumble across a flowering specimen of Liparis lilifolia yesterday evening. This orchid is known as the lily-leaved twayblade, but I prefer its alternative common name, mauve sleekwort.
L. lilifolia grows at scattered locations throughout the mountains, piedmont, and coastal plain of North Carolina, and its range extends over much of eastern North America, from Quebec and Ontario south to Georgia. Its flowers are visited by flies, although they are not pollinated very frequently. Coincidentally, one of my neighbors had emailed earlier in the week to say she had found the species on her property, so today we served as orchid matchmakers and attempted cross-pollination with toothpicks.
My plant is growing in the woods outside our deer fence, so I have covered it with a wire cage while we wait to see if viable seed will be produced. And now, I’m wondering what else I have overlooked in the leaf litter.
Sweetgum and Pines 