After viewing the Monarch butterflies at Sierra Chincua, our next stop is the town of Patzcuaro. Located 53 km southwest of Morelia, Patzcuaro was an important ceremonial center of the native Purepechas people before the pre-Hispanic period. The town center consists of streets paved in cobblestones and is anchored by a magnificent church, bounded by buildings constructed with adobe and tile. After breakfast, we head out to Lake Patzcuaro. We board a boat to the nearby island of Yunuen, where we are greeted by local children who hand out flowers to the ‘turistas’. We spend an hour touring the island taking in the local culture and trying to identify the local flora and fauna. The birders within the group had a great day identifying many colorful birds. Among the plants were a species of Oenothera</em>, poppy (similar to Argemone</em>) and a beautiful specimen of the poinsettia (Euphorbia pulcherrima</em>) in full bloom sans any leaves. Our next stop is Jenitzio Island, with its monumental statue of José Maria Morelos, a leader of Mexican independence, at the top of the hill. The inclined streets are lined with handicraft stores and restaurants. We climb the steep hillside and at the top is the huge statue of Morelos made of stone bricks. Within the statue are paintings by Ramon Alba de la Canal and other great Mexican muralists that recreate the life of Morelos. Numerous steps take you to the spiral staircase at the top which is the arm of the statue from which is a narrow viewing window that gives a spectacular view of the lake, the nearby islands and the surrounding mountains. Post-lunch we visit the town of Santa Clara which is known for its copper workmanship. We visit a copper artisan’s workshop where we are demonstrated the whole process of creating copperware. Of course, this leads to a shopping spree for copper artwork…more things to carry back home!</p>
This time of year, while rather bleak and cold outside, really gets me excited for what's growing on in the Boettcher Memorial Tropical Conservatory. As I was watering this morning, I could not take my eyes off of the absolutely beautiful Brownea ariza</em>. The big, bold, red flowers always seem to slow time down for a few minutes and remind me of how much beauty really exists in my "office." Brownea</em> is a member of the large Fabaceae, or bean, family. The genus itself is not a particularly large genus, with about 30 species. Brownea ariza</em> is a smaller tree, and sometimes can take on the form of a large shrub. All members of the genus are native to Tropical South America. Brownea</em>, as well as many other members of the family, put forth new leaves in a very interesting and unique way. The young, tender leaves emerge looking rotten or diseased and as the leaves mature, they grow into their "normal" state, this most likely occurs to prevent predation upon the new growth. Brownea ariza</em> also exhibits cauliflory, which means that the plant flowers and fruits from its main woody stems or trunk rather than from new growth. A few other famous cauliflorous plants are: Theobroma cacao</em> or chocolate, Callistemon</em> or bottlebrush, and Cercis</em> or redbuds. Because of the cauliflorous flowering habit, the large flowers are very hard to miss. It's right around this time every year that our Brownea</em> really starts to push out many blooms, and this year is no exception. The plant is packed with them right now with quite a few of them right around eye-level. The flowers, unfortunately, only last a couple of days, so be sure to come in and enjoy them while they're here in force. The Brownea ariza</em> is located just to the left of the fork in the path after entering the Boettcher Tropical Conservatory through the main doors, you can't miss it. (And of course, keep an eye out for all of the gorgeous blooming bromeliads!) There are two good vantage points for enjoying the Brownea ariza</em>, one being directly in front of the tree from ground level, the other being from the balcony just above the main entrance to the conservatory near the Green Roof Exhibit. I also feel obligated to point out that the newly planted Brugmansia sanguinea</em> has a few buds, so check that out while you're here too! Hopefully I'll see you soon, as you absolutely don't want to miss this fantastic display of winter color in the Boettcher Tropical Conservatory.</p>
</p> Rohdea japonica in winter glory</dd> </dl> Some plants don't overwhelm at first. These obscure, strange little plants in the Lily Family are tucked here and there around Denver Botanic Gardens. As you can see below, the flowers are modest. From September to spring, the glowing red-orange berries they produce delight the far too few winter visitors out and about to see them.</p> As with every other of the tens of thousands of plants in our collection, an enormous amount of lore and history accrue to Rhodea.</em> This is one of a handful of cult plants that have been collected and cherished in Japan for centuries: there are forms of Rohdea</em> bought and sold daily in Tokyo for thousands of dollars. They are practically objects of veneration in Japan. Strangely, even the common green forms are rarely available commercially in America.</p> How we obtained an enormous number of these over the last ten years, through the graces of a volunteer (Bill Stuffelbeam) to a superb collector and gardener in the Washington D.C. area (Bobby Lively-Diebold) is a saga unto itself.</p> Suffice it to say that a botanic gardens and its collections are the accrual of an enormous mesh of relationships and a culture that makes the filming of a trifle like Avatar</strong></em> rather like painting by numbers...come to think of it, these plants are almost something you'd expect to see on Pandora!</p> Come check them out when you come to be dazzled by the spectacle of our new Moore exhibition: they are in the shady part of Plantasia and impossible to overlook. A modest counterpoint to that imposing exhibit!</p> </p>
It's hard to believe that in a mere three months the giant mounds of claret cup all over the west will be studded with their waxy, badminton birdie flowers. Wouldn't you enjoy seeing this in person? Well, you still have a chance to join me and a handful of intrepid hikers as we reprise a fabulous trip we took two years ago to Canyonlands. Late April is when no end of treasures there are at their peak. A dozen kinds of milkvetches (Astragalus </em>and Oxytropis</em>), lots of phloxes and even the first penstemon (see below) </p> You may be tearing along the highway and think there are paper tissues littered there: No! It's sheets of ghostly white evening primrose (Oenothera caespitosa</em>):</p> </p> One of the biggest surprises was finding a true primrose growing and blooming fabulously on the cool, moist "bandshell" caves of canyonlands. This is closely related to high alpine primroses I saw last summer in Kazakhstan!</p> So are you ready to sign up? Find out more about this trip, click right here and sign up. Come join me in late April as we see these and lots more gems of the Colorado Plateau. After a long, cold winter, what would warm the cockles of your heart more than dreaming of Canyonlands?</p>
In July of this year, the Biennial of the Americas will be occurring here in Denver. It is a celebration of art, culture, and the Western Hemisphere in general. So this got me to thinking, what better way to celebrate the Biennial here at the Denver Botanic Gardens, than to celebrate the family Bromeliaceae</em>. Bromeliaceae, or the Bromeliad family, deserves its recognition as the plants in this family, with one exception, only occur in the Americas. Bromeliads exhibit a plethora of different colors, forms and habits. You may be interested to know that bromeliads are some of the most recent plants to evolve and hence are still rapidly evolving. They fill almost every niche in almost every ecosystem from Southern North America to Southern South America. The sole member of the family that is not native to the Americas, is Pitcairnia feliciana</em> which is native to Western Africa. It most likely arrived in Africa from South America through a mechanism called long-distance dispersal, and that truly is a long distance to travel! Bromeliaceae</em> is broken into three subfamilies: Bromelioideae</em>, Pitcairnioideae</em> and Tillandsioideae</em>. Members of all three subfamilies are well represented in our collection, many of which are on display in the Boettcher Memorial Tropical Conservatory. Now, of the three subfamilies, my favorite would have to be Tillandsioideae</em>. It consists mostly of plants that many people have enduringly called the ‘airplants.’ The Tillandsia</em> and their relatives are very thoroughly displayed in the Boettcher Tropical Conservatory from the obscure terrestrials, to the unique and elegant epiphytes for which the family is so well recognized. A very famous tillandsia that I’m confident almost everyone knows of is the famous ‘Spanish Moss.’ That’s right, it’s not at all a moss, but is one of the smallest bromeliads and goes by the name Tillandsia usneoides</em>. The long, hair-like strands that you see are actually chains of hundreds of individuals and are capable of growing up to two inches a day! Many people believe that T. usneoides</em> is a parasite, well, that is simply not true. As an epiphyte, it grows on trees only for support and takes no nutrients from the tree. Occasionally T. usneoides</em> may accumulate in such great numbers that it breaks a dead limb off, or shades out some of the tree’s leaves, but that is about the extent of the damage caused by this unique epiphyte. So now, next time you are in the American South, be sure to correct your travel companions when they point out that ‘parasitic moss.’ Bromeliaceae</em> is easily my favorite plant family and with good reason. I really love them all: from the tank-forming Neoregelia spp.</em> with their brilliant colors to the long, elegant chains of T. usneoides</em>, they all have captured my heart and mind. Make sure to come in and see the family in all of its glory in the Boettcher Memorial Conservatory, and while you’re here, be sure to make comparisons of the different shapes, growth habits and colors exhibited by the beautiful bromeliads. As an added bonus, many bromeliads are in flower this time of year, so there is one more reason to stop in, defrost, and enjoy this uniquely American plant family.</p>
Contrary to popular belief plants are not as dormant in winter as one would think. Even in a rather harsh climate like Denver there are flowers that bloom outside through the colder months. Adonis amurensis</em> is one such plant that blooms while the year is young. Galanthus elwesii </em>is another early bloomer that has stired to action in the last few weeks. Both can be found in the Rock Alpine Garden. These two hardy souls join the Helleborus niger</em> that has been in bloom for two months in the Rock Alpine Garden and was the topic of a previous blog at Christmas. The Adonis</em> is hidden in the far southeast corner of the rock garden under a buckeye tree next to the neighbors house. The Galanthus </em>are lurking in the far western part of the rock garden, behind the Cactus and Succulent House against the Cheesman Park fence. Both are still rather close to the ground but with some warmer days their stems will lengthen and soon they will come into full flower. Despite their delicate demeanor both will easily tolerate temperatures into the single digits with no snow cover. A light covering of snow will bring them through even colder temperatures. Soon other earlier bloomers such as Erica</em>, more Helleborus</em>, Crocus</em>, Iris reticulata</em>, and Cyclamen </em>will join them. Spring is just around the corner!</p>
Recently, we planted a new addition in the Boettcher Tropical Conservatory, Brugmansia sanguinea</em>, or the ‘red angel’s trumpet.’ This crimson-flowered tree will surely be a treat when in bloom. Brugmansia</em> is a genus of trees and shrubs consisting of only seven species. These pendulous-flowered beauties are members of the Solanaceae family, commonly known as the nightshade or potato family, and this is seen through the flowers. Yes, it is true, that Brugmansias are related to potatoes and tomatoes, although you would not want to eat brugmansia. Many members of the Solanaceae family are toxic and Brugmansia is no exception. Brugmansia sanguinea</em> hails from the Andes and is native from Colombia to Peru and Bolivia. The genus Brugmansia</em> is broken in two sections: section Brugmansia,</em> the warm growing brugmansia, and section Sphaerocarpium</em>, the cool growing brugmansia. B. sanguinea</em> lives up to its classification as a cool-grower, and can withstand short frosts, although it doesn’t like temperatures under 32 degrees Fahrenheit for prolonged amounts of time. Brugmansia trees and shrubs make great houseplants, and many colorful hybrids exist that are readily available through a variety of nurseries. They may be kept in a pot on your porch during the summer and brought in for the winter. If you don’t have anywhere to store the potted plant during the winter months, you may prune it and store it bare-root in a cool, dry place and repot in the spring. This tropical gem is definitely worth a stroll through the Boettcher Tropical Conservatory, even if not in flower, but keep your fingers crossed as it has been putting out more blooms lately. You will find the plant towards the West end of the conservatory just past the pandanus tree. Hope to see you soon! For more information on growing Brugmansia sanguinea</em>, click here to visit the "Strange Wonderful Things" Web site.</p>
Kazakhstan was as cool and rainy as we had been in Colorado last June: a different year we would likely have missed the last peonies, which we caught at their very peak. The picture above was taken in the Kalbinsky Hills, a low range (largely treeless) in the Altai mountains between Ust Kamenogorsk and Katom Karagai--the first being the largest city in the Kazakh Altai region, and the other the largest town in the Altai uplands. Our driver screeched to a halt when we all called out at the first red flash: the flowers really are like flags out there--some of them surely 6" across. The foliage seemed to be more deeply cut than the Paeonia anomala</em> at the gardens, although much coarser than the threadleaf, or fernleaf peony of the West Asian steppe (Paeonia tenuifolia</em>). Over the next ten days we saw this peony everywhere, at higher and higher altitudes. The picture below was taken not far below treeline on Burkhat Pass, above the spa called Rakhmanovsky Springs. What this picture doesn't really convey is how massive this clump is: easily four feet across and almost a yard tall: much bigger than any Paeonia anomala</em> I have seen in cultivation. I suspect the Altai race may not be in cultivation. Here and there at the lower elevations we found a much tinier peony with distinctive calyces that had long since finished blooming. This is Paeonia hybrida</em>, a species that may not be in cultivation. We only found a few with faded flowers remaining: in the picture it look similar to anomala</em>, but don't be fooled. This is a very different plant, which fortunately bore great quantities of ripe seed. Ah! the joys of plant exploration. They warm heart in winter, even though in fact they can be exhausting and frustrating at the time. </p>
Winter is my least favorite season, no doubt about it. The coldest season does have a few perks, it is really the only time when gardeners can catch their breath and truly enjoy the garden for what it is. Every other season brings innumerable tasks, from planting to weeding, cutting back and watering there is always something that needs immediate attention. In winter one can enjoy the purest structure of the garden, deciduous trees are reduced to enticing branch patterns, evergreens: coniferous, broadleaf and herbaceous take center stage with so few flowers to compete against. The conifers become especially lovely with a dusting of light snow on a brilliant sunny day. Agaves, Yuccas, and Nolina prove just how garden worthy they are in accommodating climates with their highly sculpted forms. Lastly winter is a time to reflect back on the successes and failures of the past gardening season and to look ahead to the possibilities of the coming growing season.</p>
Christmas rose, or Helleborus niger</em>, was hidden at the bottom of my last blog and didn't get just attention. Christmas rose is often cited as the actual "rose" that inspired the German Christmas carol 'Es ist ein Ros entsprungen' or translated into the English Christmas song ' Lo How a Rose E'er Blooming.' Whether or not it is the actual flower mentioned in the song, it doesn't take a horticulturist to tell you that there is not much blooming outside the Boettcher Memorial Tropical Conservatory these days at Denver Botanic Gardens. Helleborus </em>however are one genus that brighten the coldest and shortest days of the year. While most species and hybrids wait until at least February to bloom in Denver, certain clones and strains of Helleborus niger</em> can start as early as Thanksgiving some years. The particular clone in the photo above always blooms a good month before its fellow members elsewhere in the Gardens.</p>
Despite the balmy 54 degrees Fahrenheit it is as I write this, today is the official start of winter. The winter solstice not only marks the official start of winter but ironically the return to longer and eventually warmer days. Winter has already made several visits to Denver long before the winter solstice this year. Two weeks ago we had highs in the single digits and an official low of -9 degrees at the gardens. Once the thermometer goes below 0 degrees Fahrenheit a profound change takes place in the garden. The cold burns brown or black any perennials or shrubs that were tardily deciduous, now only the true "evergreens" remain to keep us occupied until the first sweeps of brightly colored bulbs enliven the garden sometime in late February or March. Luckily the Rock Alpine Garden has more than its fair share of plants that stay green, silver, or turn shades of chartreuse, red, or purple. Acantholimons or prickly thrift add green, silver, or ghostly gray hedgehog like mounds to the rock garden this time of year. Native to arid regions of Asia they thrive in the Intermountain West. On the same spiky theme is Erinacea anthyllis</em> or the hedgehog broom from Spain, France and Morocco. Its a mystery to me why this plant is not more widely grown in rock gardens or xeriscapes. Asking only for good drainage and full sun it creates dense mounds of olive green stems tipped with a spine. The spines are only painful if you touch the cushions. I have been lucky enough to see great cushions of this plant in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco and the Sierra Nevada of Southern Spain. Still on the spiny trail is Astragalus angustifolius</em> from Greece, while the cold has turned the leaves a pale shade of silver green the cushions are still effective against the bright green of a dwarf spruce. Leaving the spiky theme we move on to saxifrages which sharing the theme with the above plants are ornamental 365 days a year. The porphyllum and encrusted saxifrages are the best for winter effect with their beautiful rossetes of spike like leaves or rounded leaves with patterns of silver, gray, rust and red. Chartreuse also makes its apperance for those that need brighter colors in winter when the needles on Pinus contorta</em> var. latifolia</em> 'Chief Joseph' turn a clear shade of golden green. Hellebrous foetidus</em> sets it off nicely with its dark green leaves. Hellebores are also the only flower currently open in the rock garden with the classic Helleborus niger,</em> the "Christmas rose" opening its first flowers. This particular plant had bloomed reliably every year at Christmas, other individuals in the rock garden of the same species wait until January or February. While winter has officially started there is still much to be seen on these balmy days in the Rock Alpine Garden. </p>
I realize that here in Ski country it's not always popular to complain when the thermometer plummets and your back is saying "enough white stuff already!"...we inveterate gardeners frankly can't wait for spring. How accommodating it is to have crocuses! I took this picture in the Rock Alpine Garden on November 15, just as 14" of snow had just melted. When the latest arctic blast melts away, I suspect these and several other crocuses will be boldly venturing where no sensible bulb has dared to go: namely the depths of winter. You see, we're in the middle of crocus season, after all. It begins in early September when Crocus banaticus </em>opens up, </em>with new species emerging each week through the fall (admittedly tapering off in December) but resuming by January all the way to April some years: that's 8 months when clever gardeners can enjoy a crocus (and quietly pretend it's not really</strong></em> winter)! We grow dozens of species and selections throughout Denver Botanic Gardens, but this graceful imp with impossibly silky texture and luminous lavender chalices rates near the top in my book. We started with a single bulb in 1984. This proliferated and we divided it several times so that now there is a thrifty colony of hundreds of bulbs on the east side of the Cactus and Succulent house blooming for the better part of two months every autumn. This is one of the most recently named wild crocuses, only discovered by Dr. Goulimyi, a Greek botanist, on November 15, 1954, exactly 55 years to the day before this picture was taken! In nature this crocus is restricted to the Mani peninsula of Southern Greece, but it is very plentiful there and now in gardens across the temperate world. Its nearest cousin is Crocus laevigatus</em>, which almost always blooms in Colorado between Christmas and New Years. So the crocus parade continues, and some of us like to pretend it's almost spring already (as we whistle in the icy wind!)...</p>
