If dried flowers make you think of withered Miss Havisham and her decaying wedding dress, then it’s time to raise your expectations. Today’s dried flowers are nothing like the faded flowers worn by the jilted bride of Charles Dickens’s “Great Expectations.” They’re boldly combined, lushly textured and even colorful.</p> So, what’s changed? The floral industry has embraced dried plants as it’s pivoted to become more sustainable. When locally sourced and kept natural (not bleached or dyed), dried flowers have a smaller carbon footprint than fresh flowers that are flown in from overseas, refrigerated and displayed in non-biodegradable floral foam.</p> This has led to a surge in creativity. Floral artists are pushing the boundaries of display – adding dried flowers to fresh and wiring dried plant material to everything from hair combs to chandeliers. They’re also preserving flowers that were rarely dried before, from peony blooms to Smoke Bush plumes, and combining them in ways that take them beyond ordinary.</p> Consider the brown fronds of dried leatherleaf fern. Alone they may look ho-hum, but when spiraling around the edge of a wreath filled with Honesty seed heads and Chinese Lantern pods, they create energy. Or the fluffy heads of Pampas grass. By themselves, they could pass as feather dusters, but when wired with dried roses and allium seed heads onto chandeliers, they’re positively ethereal. </p>
Seeds are quite amazing little capsules of information; it is mind-boggling that something that fits in the palm of your hand (or on the tip of your finger) can hold the information needed to grow something as large as a tree! Not only do seeds act as a container of genetic information but they also contain mechanisms to make sure that the embryo will start growing exactly when conditions are just right for it to thrive, even if that means waiting for years to get it right.</p> While seeds “wait” to germinate at the right time in the right place, they will go into types of dormancies to help preserve the information it contains inside. As gardeners, we strive to manipulate environments so they’ll grow when we want.</p> </p> Here are a few simple tricks I have learned over the years:</h3> Cold stratification</h4> Seed dormancy can be regulated by the environment or by the seed itself. In Colorado where we experience a temperate climate (which generally have wider temperature ranges throughout the year with distinct seasonal changes), many plants are used to a cycle of blustery, winter temperatures followed by the fluctuations that spring, summer, and fall bring about.</p> We can mimic this through a period of moist, cold stratification. At the Gardens, we sow flats of seeds, water and cover them up and either place in a cooler or outside in cold frames in winter. At home, you can do the same by either placing seed in wet sand or vermiculite in a baggy and storing in your fridge or freezer until you are ready to sow. Alternatively, you can take advantage of our spring snowstorms and broadcast seed directly into your garden just before an expected snow to let seeds get a taste of real winter. </p> </picture> </div> </div> </article> Sophora secundiflora</em> (Texas Mountain Laurel) having germinated after scarifying the seed and a short cold stratification. </p> Scarifying</h4> Many seeds (think tree seeds and legumes) have a thick, tough seed coat protecting the seed until prime conditions occur. Scarifying, or mechanically breaking down the seed coat, can also give you a higher percentage of germination in a quicker process than mother nature does. The goal is to expose the tender tissues hiding inside; this can be done several ways and you can get creative in the process. In our greenhouse workspace we have several tools to scarify, including sandpaper, nail files and clippers, and even needles to poke and nick. </p> </picture> </div> </div> </article> Cacti seed with the seed coat being chipped off with a needle to expose the tender tissues inside. </p> Water baths</h4> Soaking your seeds in water is another simple trick to germination. Soaking in water can either help soften the seed coat to wake up the hiding embryo or can leach out chemicals in the seed coat that are preventing germination until conditions are right. A technique I have fallen to recently is an aerated bath, where seeds soak in a bath of water being turned by an aquarium air pump which provides required oxygen to the seeds as their coats soften. </p> </picture> </div> </div> </article> Seeds in an aerated soak having germinated in the bath, before sowing. </p> </p> Breaking seed dormancies can take a little expertise (and time) but it’s so rewarding once the deed is done! </p> This article first appeared in the February edition of Life on Capitol Hill. All images: Brooke Palmer. </em></p>
When I was in school, one of the fun things I learned was how to identify trees and shrubs in the wintertime without seeing blossoms and foliage. Since the deciduous woody plants dropped their leaves in their dormancy, we at first thought that there were less clues to identify the plants. However, we found out that there are many clues (more than we thought!) available in the wintertime even though the plants look bare.</p> Shape of trees and shrubs</strong></p> Each kind of tree and shrub has own growing habit. </p> Elm trees (Ulmus</em> spp.) and linden trees (Tilia</em> spp.) tend to grow upright and develop an elegant "vase shape."</li> Hawthorns (Crataegus</em> spp.) and crabapple (Malus</em> spp.) grow rather horizontally.</li> Some tree and shrub branches have a straight growing habit, but others have a weeping form or a slightly more jagged shape.</li> </ul> Bark</strong></p> The texture and color of bark can be a good clue to narrow down and identify the plants.</p> The cherry tree (Prunus</em> spp.) and crabapple (Malus</em> spp.) often have reddish smooth bark compared to ash trees (Fraxinus</em> spp.) and silver maple (Acer saccharinum</em>), which have greyish ribbed bark.</li> Weeping birch (Betula pendula</em>) and paper-bark maple (Acer griseum</em>) have a uniquely characteristic shredded bark.</li> </ul> Twigs</strong></p> One good clue is to take a closer look at twigs to see how the buds are forming.</p> If the buds are arranged in pairs along a stem or shoot, it’s called "opposite"</strong> such as maple (Acer </em>spp.), ash (Fraxinus</em> spp.) and horse chestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum</em>).</li> If the buds are forming singly on alternate stems or shoots, not in pairs or whole, it’s called "alternate"</strong> such as crabapple (Malus</em> spp.), hawthorn (Crataegus</em> spp.) and oak (Quercus</em> spp.).</li> </ul> Buds</strong></p> Take a closer look at buds to see their shape, color and detailed parts.</p> Notice pointy buds (serviceberry, Amelanchier</em> spp.), round buds (oak, Quercus</em> spp. and ash, Fraxinus </em>spp.) and hairy buds (magnolia, Magnolia</em> spp.).</li> The bud scar of white ash (Fraxinus americana</em>) looks like a smile as it curves, but the bud scar of the green ash (Fraxinus pennsylvanica</em>) is straight, not smiling.</li> In January to early February, you can often find dark, maroon-colored blooms of silver maple (Acer saccarinum</em>) on the sidewalk as squalls and birds pick them from the twigs.</li> </ul> Fruits</strong></p> Seed pod: (Kentucky coffee tree, Gymnocladus dioicus</em>, desert willow, Chilopisis linearis</em>, catalpa tree Catalpa speciosa</em>)</li> Samara: dry-winged seed, either single like that of the elm, or double like that of the maples (Acer </em>spp.)</li> Capsule: a dry seed pod that split open when ripe such as burning bush (Euonymus alatus</em>)</li> Catkin: A dense spike of small, petalless, often unisexual flowers, most often found on wind-pollinated trees or shrubs such as mountain alder (Alnus incana</em> spp., tenuifolia).</li> </ul> </p> Good luck with your investigation while you are walking around the Gardens on a nice winter day!</p>
Greetings friends of the Gardens, I hope this article finds you well. I would like to formally invite you all to come experience the newly renovated Cactus and Succulent House located in the Rock Alpine Garden. Starting your step count from the edge of the Bonfils-Stanton Visitor Center and into the Gardens it will take about 575 steps to get to the front door of the Cactus and Succulent House. Assuming you like succulent plants as much as I do, I suggest you make no other stops on your way as you perform your own individual step counts while also anticipating the awaiting beauty. </p> I took over the care of this collection in October 2020 and began making preparations and plans to refresh excitement of this public display and put these plants in a more naturalistic setting. Most of the more than 215 species located here are frost tender and prefer high light. This collection highlights the range of sizes, shapes and colors available in succulent plants. One of the many reasons you should not wait to see this display is the fact that most of the species from Africa are much more active in growth and flowering during winter months while the outdoor gardens sleep.</p> A few of the more notable specimens include a large-branched Alluaudia procera</em>, endemic to south Madagascar. It is a member of family Didiereaceae. Researchers have yet to figure out where this plant family originated. Alluaudia’s</em> leaves are produced from brachyblasts, a specialized structure that mimics a cactus areole. </p> Another interesting specimen is the Tim Burton-like Ceropegia stapeliiformis</em>. Undoubtedly one of the coolest flowers in existence, this sprawling, cylindrical plant is native to South Africa. Guests of the Gardens can expect to be delighted with flowers from March – October.</p> A plant that was not collected for use in cultivation until the early 2000s is the miniature gem Crassula ausensis</em> ssp. titanopsis</em>. It is native to southern Namibia and has become a staple in succulent collections.</p> One of the most eye-catching plants in this display is the zany, wild and strange Albuca spiralis</em>. It is a bulb from South Africa and has many different forms in the plant trade. One can’t help but bask in the natural beauty of this species. It goes dormant in the summer months shortly after flowering, and the soil needs to be kept on the dry side.</p> I hope you enjoy the new cacti and succulent plant display when you visit us this year!</p>
Since Japanese beetles came into to our garden life, it has been almost impossible to keep my grapevines presentable in Le Potager garden; the beetles skeletonize almost all the leaves over summer. It looks terrible on the pergola in the middle of the garden as the brown grapevine contrasts with the rest of the lush, green space. I decided to matchmake this sad grapevine with birdhouse gourds to cover up their destroyed leaves. It worked perfectly! The gourd climbed up on the grapevine happily and produced aromatic white flowers during summer evenings that later became the humorously shaped fruits perfect for craft projects (now I must think whether I should make birdhouses or flasks).</p> Growing birdhouse gourds is very easy. You can ‘direct sow’ their seed into the fertile garden bed in late May (after the last frost date in your area) or start a few weeks earlier indoors then transplant the seedlings. The gourd vine likes a sunny location with well-drained, fertile soil. Also, keep soil moist and don’t let it dry out, just like in a traditional vegetable garden.</p> The birdhouse gourd is a vigorous flowering annual vine, which climbs onto a garden structure (such as a pergola) easily with its tendrils. You can also plant them on a compost heap to cover it up (make sure your gourd fruit does not touch the ground directly to prevent rot). The plants produce both male and female white flowers on the same vine. You can easily identify the female flower as the bottom of the flower is swollen into the shape of a small gourd. Once your seedlings start taking off, make sure to let them grow until the main vine can reach to the structure (or your desirable height) where you would like your gourd to climb, then prune it to develop the lateral branches for encouraging it to produce more female flowers.</p> Birdhouse gourd, Lagenaria siceraria</em>, is a hard-shelled gourd, a type of tropical squash (cucumber family, Cucurbitaceae</em>) native to northern Africa. The hard-shelled gourd was cultivated by people 10,000 years ago. It spread all over the world because it is easy to grow and produces fruits that were used as bottles to carry water, storage for foods, floating devices, musical instruments, garments and more.</p> There are many ways to dry the gourds, but the easiest way is to keep the gourd fruits on the vine until the first freeze (the leaves and vine are brown), then harvest and store them in a cold, dark and dry storage area such as garage or basement. Make sure to check them occasionally and turn each gourd to prevent molding. After the gourds are dried, you can drill a small hole to make your birdhouse.</p>
Summer bulbs excite me the way that plastic eggs from a giant rabbit vending machine did when I was a child. I get a thrill from anticipating what’s inside— no matter how many times I’ve seen it before. </p> Perhaps that’s why I treasure saving bulbs from year to year, knowing that, come summer, I’ll relive the wonder of seeing them periscope out of the ground and unfurl their blooms in shapes as varied as funnels and pompoms.</p> </picture> </div> </div> </article> 'Gladiolus' Jester in the beds by the Fountain Beds.</p> Of course, not all bulbs need to be saved indoors. Those that are hardy in our climate happily winter over in the ground. The bulbs that have to be stored indoors originate from tropical climes and they would literally turn to mush if left outside in winter.</p> The list of tender bulbs is long and varied — from Mexican shellflower to pineapple lily. But not all tender bulbs are easy to store, and since we all have limits on time and space, it’s good to narrow the list to a few favorites that aren’t tricky to save.</p> Four bulbs I store without fail are dahlia tubers, canna rhizomes, gladiolus corms and giant chincherinchee bulbs. These are some of the most thrilling bulbs to see in displays and some of the easiest to store.</p> </picture> </div> </div> </article> Dahlia 'Linda's Baby'</p> Dahlias are the divas of the summer bulbs and have a reputation for being difficult to store, but in truth they aren’t as finicky as you might expect. If you follow these guidelines, you’re sure to have more than enough tubers come spring. </p> Wait for two hard frosts before you dig out the tubers. After the first frost blackens leaves, cut the stems back to 6 inches. Then after the next freeze, carefully dig out tubers with a shovel.</li> Once lifted, rinse off your tuber clumps and let them dry for 24 hours. (But never on a concrete surface as this will pull moisture out of them too quickly.) </li> Then clip off any hairlike roots and cut back stems to an inch. </li> At this point you can separate tubers or store whole clumps in large plastic bins filled with wood shavings, taking care not to let clumps touch.</li> Store the bins in a dark place that stays at 40-50 degrees F and lay lids on top of bins but don’t seal them.</li> Check on the tubers monthly. Discard any tubers that become moldy. If mold occurs, replace the wood shavings.</li> </ul> The last three bulbs are the easiest to store.</strong></p> Before digging up canna, gladiolus or giant chincherinchee in fall, let the foliage blacken.</li> Ease the bulbs out with a shovel, rinse off the dirt and cut back canna foliage to 6 inches, and gladiolus and chincherinchee foliage to 1-2 inches.</li> Lay out the bulbs to dry for 2-3 weeks, then remove the shriveled mother corms from gladiolus.</li> Store gladiolus and chincherinchee bulbs in open crates or mesh bags and canna in plastic bins between wood shavings. All three should be stored in the same conditions as the dahlias.</p> </li> </ul> </picture> </div> </div> </article> Clump of dahlia tubers after it was dug up and rinsed. </p> This article appears in the October 2021 issue of Life on Capitol Hill.</em></p>
I grew up working in my family’s gardens and volunteering in community gardens. This developed my passion for both people and plants. It was this upbringing that led me to choose a double major of tourism and hospitality as well as public horticulture. Growing up in Tennessee gave me access to a large variety of ornamental and agricultural gardening. However, my plant knowledge and interaction were relatively limited to plants that enjoyed hardiness zones 6 and 7.</p> My first and only interaction with cacti and succulents was through the greenhouses at my college campus. Because of that, I have truly enjoyed expanding and developing my knowledge as this year’s Cacti and Succulent Collection curation intern.</p> My intern projects consisted of redesigning and planting the Cacti and Succulent House</a> that is located within the Rock Alpine Garden. I also worked on accessioning and inventorying the Gardens’ Cacti and Succulent Collection.</p> While completing these projects I not only learned how to plan and plant a display to fit aesthetic and educational goals, but I also became more comfortable with different cacti and succulent species. I enjoyed experimenting with planting design and layout while also learning about how to handle cacti and succulents. This project also taught me how to intrigue and entertain the public through plant displays. I also learned a lot about cross pollination, hybridization, mutation and grafting. Seeing these methods first-hand in different plants helped with my ability to identify and even produce these modifications. </p> I feel incredibly lucky, and I am grateful to have been an intern at Denver Botanic Gardens this summer. This opportunity has taught me so much about plants, horticulture and the people who make it possible for the public to enjoy and learn. I can leave saying my passion for public horticulture has been not only strengthened but also more focused.</p> Julia Adams is from Nashville, TN. She’s currently a senior at University of Tennessee double majoring in tourism and hospitality and plant sciences with a concentration in public horticulture. She hopes to work for a public garden focusing on community outreach to combine her two majors and passions.</em></p>
