Iris 'Katharine Hodgkin' In the last few weeks, a few crocuses here...a few snowdrops there...it's been slim pickens! But suddenly with the last few warm days the Gardens are practically exploding: each day brings dozens more flowers. I've seen the first daffodils blooming gloriously inside the Mordecai Children's Garden as well as on the parking berm. Waterlily tulips are opening up everywhere. There are Magnolias opening up around town, Cornelian cherries are at their peak and the apricots and almonds and other early Prunus</em> are teasing their first buds open. Soon we will have the whole nine-yards--Spring in her full glory parading everywhere. This magic moment, just before the figurative floodgates burst--this is perhaps the most perfect moment of the year. The garden is cleaned up and everything is shiny and promising and new. And this is the time when the glorious throng of reticulate irises are bursting into bloom here and there throughout Denver Botanic Gardens. closeup of Iris 'Katharine Hodgkin' If you grow but one reticulate iris, may I recommend 'Katharine Hodgkin'? I tell her full story elsewhere more expansively. Because she is a hybrid between two rather distinct species, she possesses what botanists call heterosis</strong></em>, or hybrid vigor. She has formed wonderful clumps in the O'Fallon Perennial Walk that are in peak form right now. Our horticulturists have planted her liberally throughout both sides of York Street, so expect her to be ever more evident in future years. If you look carefully at this closeup, you will see some streaking. Undoubtedly due to some of the genes between the two parents struggling, as it were, in the offspring (either that, or perhaps a virus. I hope it's the family squabble rather than the latter!). Here are pictures of the two parents: Iris winogradowii Surely the rarest, and one of the most mythical of all iris is this, the yellow reticulata</em> cousin from the Caucasus. Now listed in the IUCN Red Book of endangered species, this is only found in a tiny part of an alpine mountain range--only a few hundred plants persisting in nature. Fortunately, there are thousands in cultivation (you can even buy them mail order rather reasonably!). If you do choose to spend a few hundred dollars on these, be aware that this species needs a rather rich, acid soil in part shade that never dries out. This is not for the beginner! Iris histrioides 'Major' Here is the other parent: Iris histrioides</em> is only known from a few mountain summits in Turkey, but has been grown and distributed by Dutch nurseries for almost a hundred years. We have had it for over twenty years in the Rock Alpine Garden where this was photographed a few years ago. I regard this as the most sumptuous and magnificent of the reticulate species. Alas, it is hard to find nowadays in catalogs and does not always perform well in many people's gardens. So you may have to settle for one of the dozens of true Iris reticulata, </em>which are pretty wonderful as well. I am intrigued how 'Katharine Hodgkin' manages to transform the dark blue of histrioides</em> into a translucent, azure sea blue-green. The yellow qualities of winogradowii</em> are expressed through the chartreuse undertone and those wonderful golden patches. In painting, blue and yellow produce green--things are a tad more subtle and complicated in flowers. There are other hybrids gaining currency in the trade, but 'Katharine Hodgkin' seems thus far to be the most subtle combination and most readily available. I finish the blog with a glimpse of the enormous clumps of this you can find throughout the O'Fallon Perennial Walk here and there this week. I am dazzled to see how many different bulbs have been packed into this garden by previous horticulturists, and how well they have persisted despite the intense planting in this amazing garden. I know these massive clumps have inspired me to plant lots of this terrific bulb in my garden. What better way to celebrate spring as it shifts into high gear! vroom Vroom VROOOOOOOM!</p>
Winter is almost over, however there are still lots of options for enjoying the Gardens. Be sure to see some of the thousands of spring bulbs that are starting to bloom throughout the Gardens! The Mordecai Children’s Garden just opened for the season. If you have kids, the Children’s Garden is an obvious choice to visit because of the swaying bridge, the mini-theater, and the view of the Gardens and the Rocky Mountains from the Lookout. Even if you don’t have children, the Children’s Garden is a really great example of a large scale, green roof alpine garden. The Mordecai Children’s Garden is conveniently located across the street from our York Street location and is open March through November. If you live further south, Denver Botanic Gardens at Chatfield is another good choice. I also recommend Chatfield if you want to escape from the city for a while. Denver Botanic Gardens at Chatfield is a working farm, with over five acres dedicated to growing produce for our Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program. The area also has significant historical interest, including the Hildebrand Ranch, the restored dairy barn and silo, and a one-room 1874 Deer Creek Schoolhouse. Our Chatfield location is at C-470 and Wadsworth. My favorite time to visit Denver Botanic Gardens is right after it snows. Everything is white and sparkly. There’s less foot traffic through the Gardens. Everything looks different under a coating of snow. Lots of shapes and textures in the Gardens keep things visually interesting. The Japanese Garden in particular is stunning in the snow. This time of year, you can even sometimes see flowers poking out from underneath the snow. Membership to Denver Botanic Gardens has great value. In addition to helping make Denver a better community, supporting children and adult education programs, supporting our research on Colorado plants, and generally helping us achieve our mission of connecting people to plants, membership gives you free access to all of these locations: York Street, Mordecai Children’s Garden and Denver Botanic Gardens at Chatfield. Kim Brokling, Membership Coordinator</em></p>
In February I’m usually in the Exhibits office at Denver Botanic Gardens putting together the interpretive messages that will appear in signage and audio tours in the busy season ahead. This year, I’m lucky enough to spend a week in Pasadena at the Huntington Library, Art Collections and Botanical Gardens doing a workshop on plant-based interactive exhibition design. Funded by an IMLS grant, the gracious team at the Huntington is walking (more like running!) us through the process it used to create its conservatory exhibition, Plants Are Up to Something. The exhibition invites visitors to take a closer look at live plants, often using tools and techniques of scientists. In the coming year, I’ll be working with horticulture staff to create three small interactive exhibits in the Gardens on various topics. My favorite experiences of gardening and plant biology have always been hands-on activities, from planting, watering, and weeding to microscopy, dissections, and DNA extraction. I’m hoping some visitors to the Gardens will get to know plants in a whole new way.</p>
</p> </p> It's snowdrop time again! Surely, no plant is more intimately associated with winter flowering (okay, okay--Christmas roses may be!), and none have developed such an enthusiastic folowing: there are many specialty nurseries that sell dozens, even hundreds of kinds of snowdrops. Almost exactly a year ago I told the story of a snowdrop that fetched hundreds of dollars at Ebay auction. But truth be said, all snowdrops are precious this time of winter!</p> </p> Galanthus elwesii at Denver Botanic Gardens</p> The plant that now constitute our most robust colony behind the Succulent House along the Cheesman gate were originally used as "fillers" in a lobby court display: I rescued them and planted a couple dozen bulbs some twenty years ago. Each bulb has proliferated and this is now beginning to make quite a spectacle. Starting up just now (go check it out!). Here is a closeup of the commoner species that is abundant in the wild across much of Europe. I have grown this for over a half century at various homes--it spreads abundantly in Colorado as well--but believe me, this isn't a weed. You can always find homes for this plant. I remember this as a child in my parents home--just a few clumps here and there that spread to cover square yards by the time I was in college... Here you can see now Sandy Snyder (who worked at Denver Botanic Gardens for 17 years in the 1980's and 1990's) has managed to naturalize one of the tougher sorts in her sparsely watered buffalo grass in sun! Generally, they are recommended for shady spots where they get periodic irrigation, but many species are Mediterranean littoral plants that grow in areas that have no water from April to November. I suspect we could find sorts that would thrive with no supplemental irrigation. Three of many books recently published about Snowdrops: </p> </p> </p> By the way, if you Google "snowdrop" you will find a host of novels, mysteries and other books named for these winter beauties--they are obviously popular--especially in Europe. By the way, all the snowdrop monographs have glowing reviews--and the prices are beginning to get astronomical--obviously the time to invest in snowdrop futures! Remember to order some for planting next fall (the plants of course--not the books).</p>
When you decide to become a member of Denver Botanic Gardens, you might be thinking about the many visits you will enjoy with friends and family: enjoying the Orchid Showcase and the Boettcher Memorial Tropical Conservatory on a cold blustery day in the winter, the warm evening strolls in the summer, getting delightfully lost in the autumn Corn Maze at Denver Botanic Gardens at Chatfield Farms, the year-round discounts at The Shop at the Gardens and the Hive Bistro, or taking children or grandchildren to have a day of play and discovery at Mordecai Children’s Garden.</p> </p> What might not occur to you is this: In addition to providing yourself with a full year of opportunities, you are also helping to provide a cultural non-profit organization with an imperative source of revenue. Denver Botanic Gardens is a living museum that serves as a source of education, entertainment and inspiration for the community at large.</p> The funds procured each year through membership sales allow Denver Botanic Gardens to continually flourish and improve the environment and programs we offer to our visitors--members and non-members alike. The many benefits you receive as a member are our way of saying thank you for your support.</p> We feel membership should never be taxing; though you should always consult your tax professional regarding the deductibility of a membership purchase. Membership categories up to and including the Four Seasons level ($1,250.00) are considered a charitable donation and have no fair market value for tax reporting purposes. We could not be all we are without the ongoing support of our members.</p> Join or renew today to do something beneficial for yourself, the community, and for an organization that strives every day to embrace and expand on its core values of transformation, relevance, diversity and sustainability.</p>
Yes, Virginia...pampas grass (Cortaderia selloana</em>) does indeed grow in Denver...although not in great numbers. Observant visitors will have noticed them dotted here and there at the York Street gardens, and I have seen another half dozen driving around Denver. The one above is right next to University Avenue, and constitutes a minor traffic hazard as grass-afficionados notice it and swerve! I suspect the owners purchased it via mail order, since these are rarely sold locally ("pampas grass is not hardy" according to most pretty well-informed nursery folk. And I agree, most are not. Only the dwarf, high elevation forms are apt to be hardy here, and these are hard to find). Most Coloradoans probably don't know that pampas grass is a pestiferous weed in California--but then one man's weed is another man's treasure. I doubt that this will ever pose much of a threat in our climate. I share this picture to show that much of the creative work of plant experimentation is undertaken by home gardeners. We at the Gardens sometimes have to run to keep up! Here you can see from closer up the silky, silvery color that true pampas grass has seemed to perfect. If you have driven parts of Texas you are sure to have admired pampas grass--a popular landscape plant in that state. I used to drive down at Thanksgiving each year, and the clumps of pampas here and there along the way were like mile posts, or sentinels that cheered the trip. Their fluffy seedheads are amazing when they puff up. Alas! A well established clump is so massive that cutting it back each year is a chore. This is one of the hazards of growing large grasses anywhere. Confusingly called "hardy pampas grass" (a paradox if you think about it...), this is the most commonly planted giant grass around Denver. I am sure half the people who grow it think it is pampas grass, and if you look up and compare, you will see there is a family resemblance. But while the TRUE pampas grass comes from South America as the name suggests, Ravenna Grass is from the Mediterranean. This still grows abundantly in the coastal marshes near Ravenna I've been told. This is by far the most vigorous and giant of commonly grown grasses, and a large clump will often produce vigorous seedlings nearby that should be dug while young. A large clump needs a front end loader to move or remove...be warned! Until recently it was classed as an Erianthus</em>, but has been put in the same genus as sugar cane in the last decade or so (Saccharum</em>). Sugar cane has helped make Brazil energy self reliant. Maybe this vigorous grass has biomass potential? The group that has been exploited most for that in America is another genus altogether, however... There are hundreds of cultivars selected from the various species of Miscanthus</em>--which is also often sold as hardy pampas grass. They are hardy enough but the name is taken, I'm sorry. A great deal of research is being done on these because of their famous C4 metabolism which allows them to accrue enormous biomass in short periods of time. Miscanthus have nevertheless been practically banned in much of the eastern U.S. due to their propensity to produce colossal seed crops. I have yet to see a seedling appear in Denver outside, so I think we can grow these without guilt--except that these are the most water demanding of these larger grasses. Don't try them in your Xeriscape! My current favorite giant grass is native not far from us here in the Rio Grande Valley. Plant Select has chosen to feature this plant in 2006 and I can vouch for its toughness. The plant you see in the picture is in my garden, on very sandy soil where it bakes for months on end and gets precious little water. Even so, it makes a fabulous fountain of golden seedheads that persist through the winter months. Indeed, all of these pictures were taken this morning, January 24. The greatest reason to grow these pampas grasses (and their pretenders too!) is that they provide drama, beauty, movement and interest in the depths of winter for months on end. If you grow them, please resist cutting them back until February so we can enjoy their splendid display! But do cut them back hard so that the new growth will be fresh and green for the coming year!</p>
With well over 800,000 visitors a year, Denver Botanic Gardens can hardly be considered much of a secret--except maybe in winter. Visitors expect to be dazzled by Blossoms of Light, so they flock here during the holidays at twilight. Lots of people are crowding the Orangery to admire the Orchid Showcase right now, but only a handful of members and a few diehard tourists know that a stroll around the outdoor gardens in midwinter is one of Denver's secret marvels. I cannot say how many times I've felt as though I was the only person on the grounds. Those of us who are lucky enough to work in and around these 25 acres filled with dozens of artful gardens never grow jaded with the views.</p> </p> The same sculpture a week later in a different light looks so utterly different--it's amazing how dramatically a vista changes in a matter of minutes--from the golden light of early morning or dusk to the brash clarity of mid-day or the icy Antarctic light when it's overcast. Every few days throughout the winter months, a crisp lenticular cloud perches overhead--I realize there are clouds everywhere, but somehow, the architecture of Denver Botanic Gardens seems to frame the sky in a distinct fashion. Of course, there are mercurial sculptural effects within each garden, often interacting with real sculptures--but the gardens themselves are vessels of a sort--an enormous landform sculpture, filled with not-so-dormant plants, hardscape tweaked to frame vistas and to cup the grandiloquent and ever changing steppe sky and its scudding clouds.</p> </p> I love the way the high Rockies play peek-a-boo from various vantage points around the garden, or the captious towers of downtown Denver. Both great Japanese artists--Hokusai and Hiroshige--play with peak views in their thirty six views of Mt. Fuji (富嶽三十六景), so you can catch 36 glimpses and more of the landmark Conservatory from this or that vantage point around the Gardens. True gardeners are never dormant: this time of year we are poring over the cornucopia of seed catalogs that stuff our snail mail box, or are arrayed for us in such elegant fashion on-line....filing and organizing images from the last year, and planning your garden for the coming growing season. I know many culpable gardeners who are so impatient for spring they must go out and poke in the frozen ground with their fingers or sharp instrument to ascertain that yes, indeed, the bulb is emerging. More often than not they slice it in the process. No need to bask in the glow of the past summer, nor merely anticipate the glories of the next. Winter has her own stark beauty and now is the time to come and take advantage of our not so dormant gardens! Is that a snowdrop I caught sight of blooming by the Cheesman fence?</p>
How easy it is to be lulled into complacency in the depths of winter when our attention is distracted by snowpack and driving conditions. We appear to have forgotten just how long and hot last summer was. June and July were not just hot, but extremely dry. Remember how summer sunsets were brilliantly colored due to the burning of vast swaths of Colorado mountains? Everyone in both Colorado Springs and Fort Collins--where fires burned so near to, even into their cities-- are less apt to have forgotten. Fire is omnipresent in and around the Rockies. We as a culture have largely evaded, ignored and ultimately pay an enormous price as a consequence. On Saturday, January 19 the Education Department here at the Gardens has organized a symposium on the subject of Firescaping. "Firescape" a neologism coined to describe the strategies that homeowners who live in fire-prone areas can employ to deal with the very real threats of fire. There is no guarantee that landscaping alone can eliminate the threat completely. But if we as a region could employ firescaping principles widely, ongoing and consistently, it is very likely that the dangers and the damage of large fires could be substantially reduced. A blog by the Director of Education at Denver Botanic Gardens last spring demonstrates dramatically how we at the Gardens employ fire to manage the Plains Garden. Not that you can necessarily follow suit, but this demonstrates how fire itself is a tool for managing fire dependent landscapes. It is imperative for anyone who lives here to realize that three of the major forest systems of Colorado are dependent upon fire for their long term health--or at least for their perpetuation. I took this picture last autumn of the magnificent aspen display that covers much of Gilpin County north of Mount Evans. All of that bright yellow aspen, and much of that forest green and the pale brown meadows as well would not be there if that county had not been burned repeatedly in recent centuries. Both the aspen (Populus tremuloides</em>) and the commonest montane conifer, lodgepole pine (Pinus contorta</em>), are fire-dependent. Both forest types have been protected from forest fires to such an extent during the last century that these forests are aging, and many native stands of aspen are declining from diseases accelerated by senescence such as Phytophthora</em>. Lodgepole pines have cones that are famously serontinous--a wonderful term referring to a cone that needs fire to open and disperse its seeds. I can only imagine how many billions or even trillions of seeds are patiently waiting on Colorado's lodgepoles for fire to open them up. And that fire is sure to become a conflagration due to economies we have taken with forest management across the West. The third major forest tree in Colorado that depends on fire is the ponderosa. Fire is essential for the long term health of forests is the lower montane and foothills dominated by ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa</em>). This wonderful tree can reach massive proportions--there are groves of ponderosas near Pagosa Springs where many individuals soar over a hundred feet in height, and one has been measured at 160 feet! Those trees would not be that big if fire had not swept through repeatedly in their lifetimes to clear underbrush and competition and leave them the room to grow healthily. And yet hundreds of thousands of Coloradoans have built their homes among these not just fire-prone but fire-dependent trees! I remember as a child when a forest fire occurred above Boulder on Green Mountain. It left a large black stain on the mountain for the better part of a year, but the next spring the burned trees began to sprout--and a few years later that spot that had been burned was the only healthy forest patch on the mountain. The trees that had burned were able to resist pine bark beetle, but the rest of the forest around them turned a sickly chartreuse. That forest only recovered by a program of massive thinning done artificially by park crews in the next decade. So what are we who often live in these fire prone areas to do? Sign up this seminar, led by several of the leading authorities on this subject: I know Roger Rosenstetter who has been the Bureau of Land Management Botanist for the state of Idaho for decades has made a special study of landscaping to minimize fire liability. Everyone who lives in the West needs to better understand fire ecology. I myself intend to be there. I hope you will join me! Click here for more information.</p>
Xeriscape sometimes summons images of oceans of gravel and harsh, stickly, pointy plants that stab, slash and terrorize homeowner associations. A primrose? Really? Well, there are even primroses that can do with much less water than many people pour on their gardens, and the oxlip (famous in English Literature--even Shakespeare writes about it!) has proved itself for decades in a number of local gardens. Thanks to the Plant Select program, this and a host of other unique plants will debut across the country this spring. Oxlips do best in at least a half day's shade, but given a rich soil, mulching and occasional good watering, they will even grow in full sun in Colorado. They combine especially well with graceful, brilliant blue flowers like the Siberian squill pictured above. Although quite widely distributed in the foothills of the Southern Rockies, I have only stumbled on Scott's clematis a few times, so I suspect it is not exactly abundant. It has been produced abundantly by Plant Select propagators this past year and you should be able to find it in local garden centers this spring. The nodding, lavender bells vary from almost gray to a dark, almost black blue in some forms. As you can see, it makes a compact mound with those irresistible blue bubbles visitors at Denver Botanic Gardens simply have to squeeze...speaking for the plant, please don't! This clematis belongs to the "Sugarbowl" section of the genus (sometimes classed as its own genus: Viorna</em>) which includes a dozen or more of the rarest and most beautiful herbaceous clematis. This is likely to be the most drought tolerant of the lot--and the flowers last for much of the spring and early summer: we have had flowers into the autumn on larger plants--and the seedheads are a bright gold and almost as decorative. This plant is a must have for anyone interested in growing xeric plants. The "alumroots" (a dreadful name), or coralbells (whew!)</em> are entirely restricted to North America, mostly concentrated in the Western States and Appalachians. They have been intensively bred for foliage color by Terra Nova nursery in recent decades. I love the wonderful lacy flowers that brighten up dark cliffs all over the west. This is one of the most restricted in nature, but most accommodating in the garden. These three plants are the first sampling of Plant Select Petites, an expansion of Plant Select which seeks to provide more compact plants for the more intimate setting many of our more modern urban and suburban patio gardens, permanent outdoor containers and ever popular rock gardens which have become a hallmark of regional horticulture. There are another five outstanding introductions that continue to expand our regional palette of adapted and gorgeous plants that provide year around interest with less fuss, water and grief. I will write more on these later this spring... But I believe a trumpet blast is merited at the start of the new year for a new facet of this extraordinary program that has put tens of millions of wonderful plants into gardens across America and beyond. One of my favorite maps shows precipitation in North America where 20" or less is shown in red shades and 20" or more annual precipitation is progressively bluer. The east half and far left coast of America are bluish to be sure, but much of the middle and all the West except the mountain tips is painted in bright pink shades--nay! much of it quite red or deep vermilion. Drought is the norm</em></strong>. Each snowfall lulls us into complacency--but do remember, we live in a semi-arid region in which prolonged, deep drought is not an unusual event. Stop watering for a week or two in summer and you'll figure it out if you haven't yet. If our gardens are to survive into the future, it behooves us to develop a palette of plants that will be viable in our progressively more water restricted landscapes of the future. Thank you, Plant Select for leading the way! And keep up the good work.</p>
First of all, it's not really a rose. Helleborus niger</em> is now put in its own family (Helleboraceae), although still allied with the buttercups. Although seemingly innocent with that ghostly whiteness, it is quite poisonous despite being part of the European materia medica for hundreds of years: we do not recommend sampling any part of this! Nevertheless, if you have a European friend, you are very likely to have received a Christmas Card featuring this beloved wildflower from the Eastern Alps. It grows through much of the higher elevations of the Balkans, and has been cultivated for hundreds of years in Europe for its precocious bloom. There are some forms that will reliably begin to bloom in late Autumn in Colorado. Mine usually don't start blooming until early in the New Year: it depends what sort of winter we have. With snow in the offing, we may have to wait for 2013 to see these out at the Botanic Gardens outdoors, but you can find some lovely specimens in the Orangerie (these are being produced on a huge scale in recent years as Christmas decoration you can save and then plant outdoors!). I believe there are a few garden centers in Denver that are selling these as we speak (Since I know you are wondering, its O'Tooles--but I would call ahead to make sure they still have some). Here is a glorious colony growing just West of our Administration building. I took that picture last February: they do bloom for many months! A good reason to plant some in a shady spot at your house. For a dramatic contrast, this is the "Lenten Rose"--which suggests that it blooms in March and April, around the time of lent. It's true that this does bloom well into the spring, but I have had lenten roses start blooming in January as well. Their deep plum, almost black flowers are a wonderful contrast to the virginal white of the Christmas rose--and they will overlap in blooming for some time. An amazing revolution has occurred the last twenty years with hybridizing lenten roses: you can now find them in a fantastic range of attractive colors from nearly yellow to rose pinks and almost reds: there are wonderfully dotted forms, and some with flowers that are almost upfacing: there are gardens in Europe and the coasts of the US that boast hundreds of these new hybrids. These gardens are as lovely to visit in midwinter as in the summer months...we're way behind in Denver on the Hellebore front! Time to prepare some more shady beds! These are growing in a half dozen gardens at DBG: do take a stroll around over the next month and see how many of these paradoxical roses you can find. A little like looking for Waldo or Easter eggs--only for us plant nuts! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!</p>
You have to be a real Scrooge not to love Poinsettia this time of year (and it's OK to say "Poinsetta" in my opinion!)...that RED--it's a red even redder than Santa's suit when Mrs. Claus brings it back fresh from the Dry Cleaners! But do we have to wait for Christmas for that brilliant red color? No,Virginia! There ARE hardy plants that can rival and even MATCH that pure vermilion, blood, incarnadine, crimson red of Christmas! I've been labeling images from the past year, and set aside a few of the reddest for your consideration, beginning with the wonderful (and rarely seen) red buckeye from the Eastern United States that thrives at Waring House at Denver Botanic Gardens... OK..it's not as red as that--I suppose any one of the dozens of forms of our native Claret Cup cactus (Echinocereus triglochidiatus</em>) would out Christmas this one, but I couldn't resist showing this amazing watermelon red hybrid cactus I stumbled on in Dryland Mesa...not literally--I happened</em> on it. It would not be good to stumble on this... For the last few years Sonya Anderson has grown this breathtaking native vine on the pergola of Bird's and Bees: I like it almost as much as the hummingbirds I've seen hovering around it... This scorching red Cardinal Flower has grown in the bog alongside the pool in my waterfall area at my home garden. One morning this past August I came to the kitchen window and looked down as a sunbeam lit just that plant up while my garden was in penumbra: the light lasted long enough to capture this image: I love days like that! I like Magnolia seeds ALMOST as much as I love their velvety white or pink, silky, succulent, gigantic flowers. Come to think of it--how can you compare anything to a Magnolia flower? It's too wonderful for words: I suspect even the dinosaurs marveled at these (magnolias are among the few dicots we know for sure were around for the world's last lumbering giants that had their day in the sun: if we don't do something about global warming soon, we may be joining those giants...but I drift...). I tell this full story of this miraculous plant on another blog: it continues to be one of the most asked about plants in our collections of tens of thousands. Plant Select is seriously considering adding this to their roster--we obtained it from Suncrest Nursery, possibly the greatest wholesale nursery in America today. We are observing many other outstanding plants that have come from a recent trip out there whence we brought back hundreds of plants for DBG and our Spring Plant Sale! Many peonies approach Christmas red in color--but the prize winner has to be this species from the Balkans: Paeonia peregrina</em> blooms almost a month before the gian, floppy hybrids. It seems to grow in sun or shade and almost any condition we've tried it in. The species bloom not only earlier, but rather briefer than hybrids, but their seedpods are usually much more prominent: see below... Although this a seedpod on "Molly the Witch", it could be almost any wild peony. The spectacular contrast of black viable seed and red aborted seeds makes for quite a spectacle for a very long time (compensating somewhat for their evanescent bloom period)...Those red unviable seeds make for quite a Christmas splash in summer, however! Quite a few plants go under the name "Papaver orientale</em>"--especially a crepe-textured orange-juice colored alley weed that spreads at the root. 'Beauty of Livermere' is well behaved, and very tall with these amazing deep red flowers. A must have in my book!</p> </p> Kelly Grummons, of Timberline Gardens, hybridized this amazing penstemon that was star performer this spring and early summer at the Gardens on Kendrick Lake. I think it may be the most beautiful hardy penstemon ever--I have a few clumps in my garden I hope will perform even half as well as they do at that magnificent Lakewood Garden...we do not currently have this at DBG: colleagues--hop to it!</p> </p> It would hardly do to list red flowered plants and pass over roses: I was especially taken with this one last summer when I finally visited the remarkable Rose Garden in downtown Longmont (possibly the best rose garden in the state right now.</p> </p> </p> There are dozens of spectacular red salvias, but my favorite is probably this wonderful Plant Select choice: Salvia darcyi</em> is from Northern Mexico, but has surprised us by proving hardy in more and more parts of the state. It produces those amazing spikes of bloom from May to autumn frost... </p> I photographed these plants at a spectacular municipal garden in the central square of Fayetteville, Arkansas this past May. I do have a few sad little specimens in my home garden, but we have yet to grow this magnificent native American plant in a mostly Tropical Family Loganiaceae at he Botanic Gardens! Another plant for our acquisition list...</p> </p> Okay: I confess. This wonderful little sedum relative from Mexico has not been through a winter yet (although I have left it outside through the first hard frosts of this autumn and it's looking good)...You have to admit, it has that remarkable color that suggests jingle bells and the Holiday Season, even though it blooms in summer!</p> Obviously--although not the commonest hue in flowers, there are nevertheless bright reds out there for bold gardeners to grow. You too can have the Christmas spirit year around--sort of like some retailers lately! Just let's not start whistling Christmas carols in July!</p>
