Longwood Gardens Holiday Lights

Okay, so if you haven't been to Longwood Gardens during the holidays before and you live within a few hours' drive, just go.  Now.  Enough already.

The best time to get there is around 3:30, so you have an hour and a half or so go explore the grounds.  Then as it gets dusky, check out the beautiful conservatory.  After you've warmed up, your walk out of the conservatory is through the beautiful collection of trees lit with twinkle lights.

Longwood's been lighting their trees like this for years - long before it became a bit more trendy to outline the branches so clearly.  And the work here is done masterfully.

My camera work, what with no tripod and cold fingers...not so much.

Still, hopefully you get the idea and visit this beautiful display!

Okay, that wraps up Planted Cloud for 2011.  Thanks for reading!  Have a wonderful holiday season and see you in 2012!

Living Wreaths

Longwood's conservatory had two beautiful living wreaths I had to share.  They are a bit of a challenge to make at home, but certainly not impossible. 

Above, a wreath with asparagus and maidenhair ferns and orchids.  This is pretty amazing.  Since these orchids are epiphytic, growing on a wreath structure makes perfect sense.  However, the wreath is HUGE - at least 5' diameter.  Scaling this down would be difficult, though possible if you could use smaller Oncidiums.

This here is a favorite of mine, and I don't know why it's not more popular with high-end florists.  It's a wreath made of herbs.  Specifically, parsley, thyme, oregano, rosemary and sage.  Kalanchoe plants provide the red "ribbons."

Though beautiful, I can't see this lasting more than a few weeks in the best conditions (i.e., high, high amounts of sunlight).  But still, what a great Thanksgiving gift to give to someone - a living herb garden/holiday wreath.  And of course, if you live in California or other Mediterranean climates, this would thrive outside!

Longwood Garden's Wildlife Tree

It's awful how little I've been blogging lately.  To be sure, a New Year's Resolution will be to keep on top of the blog!  Luckily for these last days leading up to Christmas, I have a few photos I snapped last January at Longwood Gardens.  Thankfully, I decided to hold on to them to post this year before Christmas, rather than last year after.

First up is this wonderful wildlife tree.  I think this is about the best craft activity school kids could do in the winter, and not just during the holidays.

The ornaments are made out of seed and dried fruit and cinnamon sticks.  They are tethered to the tree with biodegradable string.  Almost all of it is bird food.

They are also quite pretty.

Pineapples

Since I already am on a bromeliad kick today, I thought I may as well share some a shot of a variegated pineapple (Ananas comosus) growing in Longwood Gardens' conservatory.

There it is, that wonderful tropical fruit.  Every time I went to Hawaii this year for site work, I couldn't wait to run across to the ABC store and pick up my day's supply of pineapple.  It's a simple but undeniable thrill to be able to eat an exotic fruit like this and know that it was harvested a mere 60 miles away. 

 

(ABC Stores, by the way, are a chain of Hawaiian bodegas where you can buy food, magazines, sunscreen as well as alcohol.  It's not just a liquor store, like our east coast ABC stores.  I had to explain this recently to an accountant, who saw frequent trips to the ABC store claimed as travel expenses, and began to wonder if I didn't have a drinking problem!)

More on Longwood Garden's Green Wall

Below, Philodendron scandens and Asparagus setaceus.

Below, Selaginella (spike moss) and a mystery plant.  Anyone recognize what's on the bottom?

Philodendron scandens. 

 

Below, Pteris ensiformis (brake fern) and perhaps Hoya?

Rabbit's foot fern (Davallia). 

 

And again, perhaps this is Hoya?  Any other suggestions?

Check out a great account on the development of the wall on Longwood Garden's blog. 

Longwood Garden's Green Wall

To round out this recent spate of green wall posts, I'm sharing some photos of Longwood Garden's newest contribution.  This wall opened last year as part of the underground extension of the conservatory.   The rooms in this hallway are public restrooms, and the arc of the hallway directly relates to the terraced grass amphitheater that has been added to the above-ground, outdoor space, designed by Kim Wilkie. 

 

Obviously, the skylights will significantly aid in the success of the plantings,though I suspect that the wall may have grow-lights on it after the conservatory closes to the public. 

The structure is quite different in appearance to the Rubenstein Atrium, in that metal grids seems to be holding the plants up in an exposed cellular pattern.  This kind of infrastructure, if it exists at Lincoln Center, is hidden behind matting.
 

The base of the wall is different as well.  I prefer this arrangement - with the wall simply draining into the grate below.  Come to think of it, I'd love to know if the water from the restroom sinks is routed here as well - it seems like a great opportunity to recycle the both sources of gray water.

More on the species selection this afternoon.

Taxus baccata

Similar to yesterday's post on Tsuga, today's post on Taxus is much-overdue.  The specimen below (taken at Longwood) is Taxus baccata or English yew.  

When it comes to yews, I'm not really sure where to begin.  They are however, truly misrepresented here in the states.  The specimen photographed for this post is lovely and no doubt it's well over 100 years old, but that's hardly significant when you compare it to the famous specimens in England which are estimated to be 3000-4000 years old.  One of the more famous yews is the one in Llangernyw, which has a circumference of 47'.  Dirr writes lovingly of his experience near a 3000 year old specimen in Dundonnell, Scotland: For a brief moment one could imagine the gathering of the clans, the wailing of the bag pipes and the call to battle.

I remember working at a plant nursery in high school and at that point, my only exposure to yews was their prolific use on college campuses as hedges or in soulless foundation plantings around strip malls and fast food joints.  I remember having difficulty reconciling those images of yews with Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles, where the plants were referenced as such:

It was somewhat disguised from the road in passing it by yews and evergreen oaks, but it was visible enough up here. 

And later:

Darkness and silence ruled everywhere around.  Above them rose the primeval yews and oaks of The Chase, in which were poised gentle roosting birds in their last nap; and about them stole the hopping rabbits and hares.

In short: to really, truly appreciate this plant, go to England.

Back to our American specimen.  The bark on a mature yew tree is rich in tones of cinnamon, brown and green and the bark has a shaggy, exfoliating quality.  When in partial shade, the leaves appear in two ranks along the stem.  Red fruits appear on the plant in late summer/fall.  The fruits are the only parts of this species that are not highly toxic.  (That's because the seed is toxic and our stomachs aren't capable of digesting it enough so that the poison is released.)  All other parts of the plant are quite dangerous.

In addition to the large spreading trees that Taxus baccata can become, they are also regularly used for topiary.  Yew topiary is far more common in Europe but Longwood does have a serviceable garden showing the possibilities. 

Finally, one can't talk about yews without mentioning that they are like chocolate-coated crack cocaine to deer.  If you have even a whiff of a deer presence in your area, do not bother using any species of Taxus as they will quickly be devoured.

Portea

Last week, at Longwood Gardens, I saw the bromeliad below, which is called Portea and is native to Brazil. 

It reminded me of a plant I had seen at the Philadelphia Flower Show last year and when I got home to my computer, I checked the NYPAOS archives.  Turns out I was thinking of Aechmea. 

The similarities are great -- they are both in the Bromeliadaceae family, which means they are closely related to pineapples, and they both have hard, serrated leaves.  Aechmeas are more popular -- most people have seen the 'Silver Vase' Aechmea before - but Porteas are equally prolific in their native habitat on the east coast of Brazil.

Tsuga canadensis

It's high time I post an entry on one of my favorite evergreen trees, Tsuga canadensis or Canadian hemlock.  The allée below was taken at Longwood Gardens, not far from the entry. 

 

I love the willowy nature of hemlocks -- some coniferous trees like spruce can seem so rigid and stiff - but hemlocks have a softness to them that is unique.  It's also native to the mountainside forests of this region which adds to the plant's advantages.

 

The short, flattened dark green leaves are easy to identify if you look for the white stomatal stripe that appears on the underside.  The leaves are generally arranged in two ranks along the stem, with a third, smaller leaf compressed on top of the stem.  The cones are small - smaller than a ping pong ball. 

In the image above, you more clearly can see the shorter, third leaf.  You will also notice that this leaf appears "upside down" -- that is, the side with the stomatal stripe is facing up.  You also have probably identified the evidence of wooly adelgid on the branches.  The white, cottony substance on the stems are egg sacs of the pest.  Wooly adelgid was introduced to the US in the Pacific Northwest in 1924.  It's estimated to have reached the Middle Atlantic states by the 1950's.  Tsuga is the pest's food of choice and over the years, hemlocks will eventually die from an infestation.  Until then, they will appear grayish in color, as the insect has sucked most of the sugar-rich chlorophyll from the leaves. 

The specimen above is a weeping cultivar of hemlock.  The most famous weeping cultivar is called 'Sargentii.'  These are extremely slow growing (read: expensive) plants and in my opinion, they're somewhat strange-looking.  Of course, my students already know that I have a bit of a bias against dwarf or weeping conifers. 

Finally, Tsuga is not the genus that Socrates purportedly died by.  That plant is called poison hemlock or Conium maculatum.  The common name hemlock was applied to Tsuga because, as legend has it, early settlers thought the crushed leaves of Tsuga smelled like Conium.

Somali Hemp

First of all, how evocative is that common name (Somali hemp)?  Immediately I think of drug-running pirates and gunfights and war.   None of those are good things, of course, but I didn't say it was a "good" common name either, just an evocative one...

Anyhoo, the botanical name for Somali hemp may be more familar: Sansevieria grandis.  Chances are if you've ever been to a mall (or my apartment, for that matter), you've seen its relative, Sanseviera trifasciata, which also has some scary-sounding common names: snake plant, or mother-in-law's tongue. 

S. trifasciata is a common houseplant, but Somali hemp, less so.  It is native to Kenya and south Africa and is in the Agavaceae family.  Its succulent leaves means it can survive a long time in hot, dry climates.  The genus is named for Italian Prince Raimond de Sansgrio de Sanseviero, an 18th century patron of botanical expeditions.

Spring Buds: Witch Hazel

These flower buds are just weeks away from bursting.  

 

More about witch hazel (Hamamelis vernalis, or H. x intermedia) at NYPAOS.

Kalmia Buds

As I have mentioned in the past on NYPAOS, I am always wowed when I see a really glorious specimen of Kalmia latifolia or mountain laurel.  Particularly if it's not growing in the wild, or along the Garden State Parkway.  This specimen at Longwood Gardens similarly impressed me.  

 

The foliage is dark and glossy and not a sign of chlorosis to be found.  Best of all, a small tease for spring: the plant was loaded with flower buds.  

Red Twig Dogwood

The allée below occurs shortly after you enter Longwood Gardens, and while it's a bit busier than the plane allées in Versailles or Fontainebleau, it's still quite striking.  The large trees are Taxodium distichum, and more on them another time.  The green hedge is composed of Thuja occidentalis. This season, red twig dogwoods (Cornus) are planted at the lowest tier. 

You've no doubt noticed I haven't committed to a species yet. While I suspect these are Cornus sericea or red twig dogwood, they could also be Cornus alba, or variegated red twig dogwood.  The former generally has a more brilliant red hue in the winter which is why I stake my bets on that one.  I also know this is a seasonal planting and thus the variegated, green and white foliage of C. alba is less important.  

The photos above are a textbook use of a red twig dogwood - the green hedge provides a backdrop for the red stems.  As you can see, the effect is best when viewed from afar, like in the first picture.

Like Cornus florida or C. kousa, red twig dogwood is opposite-branching and has ovate leaves with entire margins.  However unlike those plants, which have showy bracts acting as petals, this plant simply has a flat-topped umbel of small flowers in the late spring.

Protea

A long, long time ago (well, almost three years ago) I posted some pics of hothouse flowers from a Parisian shop.  One of the shots was of Protea nerifolia, or protea. 

Here's a few thriving in the Longwood Garden conservatory:

This was in their Mediterranean collection, which is a greenhouse kept at lower temperatures than tropical stock and in a drier environment.  Mediterranean plants must be the toughest to house in a conservatory; they demand lots of sunlight and very little moisture.  And even then, this specimen looks like it's struggling a wee bit.

 

The species name, nerifolia of course refers to the leaves' similarity to the foliage on Nerium or oleander.

Skimmia reevesiana

Most people probably see the name Skimmia and think of Skimmia japonica, the more popular landscape shrub in this genus.  It's certainly the plant I thought I was encountering at Longwood Gardens on Monday. 

 

Instead, the tag handily tells me this is Reeve's skimmia or S. reevesiana.  This species is shorter; S. japonica can, at rare times, reach 6' high, whereas this species is always shorter than 2'.  It's also bisexual, which means that one plant will flower and fruit (S. japonica is dioecious, which means you need around at least one male for every six females).

 

Above, you can see the flower buds are set - they will bloom between March and April - and fruit from last year's blossoms. The foliage is a darkish green, though far lighter than the leaves of other broadleaf evergreens like holly or rhododendron.  

The pith of the Skimmia stem has a tangy fragrance to it, and indeed most plants in the Rutaceae family have strong scents - this is the family that includes the Citrus genus.  Which means the plant you are looking at in this post is a distant relative to oranges, lemons, limes and other citrus fruits. 

Hydrangea macrophylla 'Hanabi'

This cultivar of mophead hydrangea was a new one for me: 'Hanabi' or 'Shooting Star.'   It was in the Longwood Garden conservatories and looked lovely at the base of a planter.  I'm still not sure how much I'd like it in the garden, however.  A brief image search didn't bring up any examples of this planted in a garden...I'll have to keep my eyes peeled this summer. 

European Beech

 Yesterday afternoon I visited Longwood Gardens on my way to see my grandmother in Philadelphia (my grandmother who incidentally celebrated her 101st New Year.  She's a rock star.).  I wanted to get some shots of their holiday display (which I'll post next December when we are all a bit more enthusiastic for such content) as well as some photos of plants that are gorgeous even in the depths of winter.  (Frankly, I think almost all plants look great all year, but enough of the parentheticals.)

 

Above is a gorgeous specimen of a European beech, or Fagus sylvatica.  I posted about American beech a little over a month ago and you can now see how similar the two species are.  Both have smooth gray bark, both are perfectly symmetrical in habit when grown in an open space.  Both have long, spindle-like buds.  

The only obvious difference is in the leaf.  European beeches have smooth leaf margins that curl slightly - they resemble the tracks of a kiddie roller coaster - the leaf edge gently rolls up and down.   There are no spines or serrations, either.   European beeches are a bit more tolerant to foot traffic and conditions common in a park or residential setting and the species generally is smaller than the American counterpart (F. grandifolia can reach 80', F. sylvatica rarely surpasses 60').