Early Winter Textures

I was in Tenleytown in DC the other day and was struck by the combination of textures in this relatively ordinary urban garden. Unfortunately I only had my iPhone 3GS, which is beginning to feel the effects of 2 years of abuse (well...Not quite 2 years -- my contract is up in March at which point I can get a new phone at a discount!).

In any case, the Spirea thunbergii looks beautiful in autumn and it's easy to forget what lovely fall color it has.  The toasted honey hue looks perfect with the grasses flanking it on both sides.

As much as I love the look now, I'm not sure I'd ever combine S. thunbergii with grasses due to the way they'd look in spring or summer -- I'm not sure I'd buy that they'd look good together.  But I'll have to keep an eye on this garden come spring to reconsider.

Elaeagnus pungens

Last week, I gave my students a tour of Dumbarton Oaks, so we could catch the last of autumn color and see what was otherwise notable in the gardens. We were passing the shrub below with little interest until we were almost knocked over by the fragrance.

The fragrance was a touch more pungent than a gardenia, and incredibly strong.  I recognized the smell right away as an Elaeagnus.  This particular species is appropriately named Elaeagnus pungens. It's a large spreading evergreen shrub with rough scratchy green leaves and brown stems (the stems are worth noting since - as you can see in the above pic - it does muddy up the overall color of the plant).  The undersides of the leaves are silver with the occasional brown scale.

This time of year the plant is teeming with small tubular white flowers - the source of the fragrance.  The flowers are very easy to miss, were it not for their scent (and on an evolutionary angle, that makes sense - the fragrance is key in drawing in pollinators when the flowers are relatively unremarkable).

In April, cherry like drupes occur on the plant in modest quantities - they are easy to miss, though the birds usually find them.  Native to Japan, this plant is not as invasive as its cousins, E. umellata and E. angustifolia.

Lindera benzoin

Here's another plant from my class last Saturday: Lindera benzoin or spicebush.  Spicebush is a plant that can easily be missed during the summer and winter, but during spring, when it's in bloom, and fall, when it shows off its amazing fall color, you cannot miss it. 

The fall color is a clear honey yellow on large ovate leaves with entire margins.  The leaves themselves could be confused with other plants, but it's easy enough to confirm that you are looking at Lindera by crushing and smelling the leaves.  They will emit a spicy, lemony scent.  Thus the name spicebush.  The twigs and fruits are equally fragrant.

This specimen must be a male, as otherwise, we'd likely see the red berries that typically appear in late summer/early fall.  Instead, we can only see the flower buds for next spring.  The plant is an important species for survival of the spicebush swallowtail, which lays eggs on the plant.

Spicebush has a long history of medicinal uses by Native Americans and is now available commercially for homeopathic uses.  The leaves, when crushed, can be used as a poultice for burns or cuts.  The plant can also be used for flavoring food and for making a tea.  Lindera is derivative from from the botanist Lindler; benzoin is derivative of the Middle French word 'benjoin' which means 'Java Frankincense' and referring to the spicy aroma of the plant.

Bottlebrush Buckeye

Bottlebrush buckeye, or Aesculus parviflora is one of my favorite summer-flowering shrubs.  The one below is blooming at the Conservatory Gardens in Central Park.  If the genus name is familiar, that's because I've also blogged about Aesculus hippocastanum, or horsechestnut.  Like that species, this plant has opposite, palmately compound leaves, though A. parviflora is typically large, sprawling shrub, and A. hippocastanum is a tree.

Of course, the flowers are quite different too.  As the common name implies, the spikey infloresences look like bottlebrushes.  The species name, parviflora, means "small flowers" - as the individual flowers on this infloresence are quite small.

 

Now, I said that the plant is typically a sprawling shrub (it's also one of the very best plants to use in dense shade), but on a recent visit to Manor View Farms in Maryland the owner John showed me some unusual specimens he had that had been limbed up into treeforms.  It's killing me that I don't have a chance to use them on any current jobs - they make a lovely silhouette. 

Ladew Topiary Gardens, Rose Garden

The Rose Garden at Ladew is an elliptical brick-walled garden. with grass and brick paths, festooned with climbing vines and roses. 

We were just a bit too early to enjoy the roses in full bloom, but it was still lovely to look at the design and some of the perennials in bloom.

 

Stachys byzantina and Clematis x jackmannii provide some variation from the climbing and bush roses. 

I really, really want to replace that piece of wood for something a touch nicer.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels that way.

The brick and grass edge to the pond reads very well, and all of the water features have a touch of decay to them that I find appealing.  I like that it doesn't seem to be level anymore and water spills off the left side more heavily.  Makes it feel lived-in.

I also loved this fine, fine textured wrought iron gate and would love to know where to find something similar.  It's lightness is such a change from the brick.

Ladew Topiary Gardens, Victorian Garden

I loved, loved the effect from planting Cryptomeria japonica so close together that they formed a fairly rigid fence around the 'Victorian Garden'. 

 The Rhododendrons are thriving as well, so passing through the threshold feels pretty magical.

Viburnum plicatum 'Popcorn'

Viburnum plicatum - or doublefile viburnum - is a terrifically handy plant.  It's deer resistant, has great fall color and no real pest problems.  It's in bloom right now and typically can be spotted by its large, horizontal branches that seem to extend from the plant parallel to the ground plane, as you can see in this specimen at Tompkins Square Park in New York.

It's called doublefile because typically the flowers and the showy bracts appear in a double line along the branches.

The specimens below belong to the same species, but these cultivars are called 'Popcorn' -- because of the round head of flowers which are actually quite similar to a Hydrangea.

Though this plant is not native (it is from China) the berries it sporadically forms in the fall are good food for birds.  I also love the deeply recessed venation in the leaves -- a feature common in many Viburnum species.

Spring at Mom and Dad's

Last fall, one of my first major projects to start construction was facelifting my parents' 20 year old landscape.   A landscape designer had installed foundation plants like Ilex crenata which had gotten overgrown, and other undesirable choices (like the aggressively self-seeding Koelreuteria paniculata or the dreaded Bradford pear) had declined and been removed, leaving gaps.

I didn't want to go with the typical builder's foundation planting and instead wanted to play up the formality of their house and find a home for hundreds of perennials that were available for transplanting from the backyard. Finally, I wanted to center small, sculptural trees in front of the windows of their study and living room.

To accommodate one of the smaller trees I could think of (Chionanthus virginicus) we still had to widen the path.  The dotted line above indicates the previous paving.  With the help of a great landscaper/handyman, we offset the path four feet, which makes a small terrace in front of the portico which eventually will be furnished with a bench and maybe some pots.

The shot above is after installation, right around the first week in November.  Eventually the boxwoods will connect and form a hedge, hemming in the loose array of perennials and reducing the amount of visible mulch. 

Everything overwintered beautifully and as things bloom this spring and summer I'll be sharing pics.  Right now, the Allium giganteum and Iris germanica are days away from blooming and the Chionanthus is just leafing out.

Meanwhile, the Viburnum plicatum 'Popcorn' is just beginning to bloom.

And Fothergilla gardenii is in full bloom.

As is Aronia arbutitifolia.
 

...It's also worth noting all these plants have avoided being deer food!

Viburnum carlesii

So, I'm teaching a spring perennials course at the USDA Graduate School here in DC this semester.  It's a refreshing change from the woody plants course I teach at Columbia and of course, it requires me to brush up on some of my herbaceous plant knowledge.  To that effect I've been scouring the gardens around DC looking for good class routes. 

 

The Mary Livingston Ripley garden, on Independence and 9th, is a treasure trove.  I was there last week, noting what was in bloom.  But today, when our class met there, everything had already changed.  The Iris bucharica had dwindled and the Erythroniums were merely ghosts.  Dozens of other species had replaced them though.  It was a nice reminder that spring is fleeting, and we should enjoy it. 

If I didn't have more self-restraint, I'd dovetail into a discussion of Viburnum carlesii with some quip about stopping to smell the flowers.  Lucky for you, dear reader, I'm not that cheesy.  But Koreanspice Viburnum is an amazing plant, and if you walk past it, you really should take in the fragrance.  Its heady floral aroma is almost overpowering, but not. 
 

It's also tough as nails.  The plant handles drought, has few disease or pest problems and is not a favorite of deer.  It also has great fall color and blackish berries in autumn (they don't last long; though this is native to Korea, the local bird populations seem to like the fruit).

Spiraea thunbergii

Here's another shot of one of the moongates in the Enid Haupt Moongate Garden at the Smithsonian yesterday.  Breaking up the mass use of Magnolia x soulangiana, we have a very lovely spring shrub that is stealthily eating visitors as they walk on the adjacent sidewalk.

Well, probably not, but you can probably guess from this pic that the plant is a "vigorous" grower.  It's Spiraea thunbergii or Thunberg Spiraea.  Most hobbyist gardeners know Spiraea but are probably more familiar with the summer blooming S. bumalda.  S. x vanhouttei is another popular species.  But I have a soft spot for this plant. 

(By the way -- see something familiar peeking behind this plant??) I love the long slender stems that are densely packed with miniature rose-like flowers (indeed, this plant is in the Rosaceae family). The plant's been in bloom for a week or two now and the leaves are just beginning to emerge.  Narrow and lanceolate, they are also a great chartreuse shade of green that's much lighter than most shrubs. 

Spiraeas in general are bulletproof; they sustain drought easily and don't have any major pests or diseases.  Really the biggest hazard of having one is that it does need to be maintained.  If left unpruned it will get very scraggly and the inside of the plant will die off from lack of sunlight.

 

Below is one of my favorite uses of the plant -- it's a hedge at the Conservatory Gardens in Central Park.  It prunes easily and is so floriferous, that no matter when you prune it, it will still have a heavy flower set.  You can see that it's been probably a month or so since it was last pruned and the soft, fuzzy texture is such a nice change from yew and holly hedges. The shot below was taken in mid-summer and as you can see, the spring-green hue of the leaves has not darkened. 

Balcony Landscape

Immediately after moving into my new place last December, I began to design a landscape for the very small balcony space.  The dimensions of the space are about 5'x10' so there isn't much room.  I also decided I was not going to get into dealing with veggies -- the space is too small.  Instead, I began thinking of ways I could get as much mileage out of the plants I selected -- I wanted a big visual effect, without cluttering the space and losing square footage for furniture.

Imagine my pleasure when I saw that these 7 gallon containers (from the boxwood I planted at my folks' place) fit so perfectly in this vinyl chest I found at target.  The chest was being sold as a storage container for seat cushions and other outdoor furnishings, but by unscrewing the lid, it make a great planter.  It's also far cheaper than getting a custom fiberglass trough (something I was idly considering).  The chest's bottom sits about 1.5" above the ground, so I filled tupperware containers with styrofoam peanuts to support the weight of the pots and not destroy the "planter's" bottom.

As far as the plant selection, as I had considered in an earlier post, I decided to use Forsythia.  All the reasons I'd avoid using this plant in a landscape made it a perfect candidate here: I wanted something that was inexpensive, fast growing, drought tolerant, cold tolerant (I'm hoping they overwinter in the pots due to the warmer balcony microclimate) and something that could be worked as an espalier plant.  I have yet to see an espalier Forsythia but I knew the plant was "bendy" enough to handle being wired to the trellises I had bought at Home Depot. Eventually, I will pick up some moss to cover the pots and further the illusion that this is one unified trough planter.

Last of course, lighting.  The building doesn't have GFI's on the balcony and I didn't want to have the wall mounted fixture on -- it's glaringly bright.  The perfect solution: solar powered twinkle lights. I bought one strand and tested it for a week or two -- it seemed to collect enough sunlight to power the battery until around 3AM.  After a few nights, I bought another string. 

It's hard to see in the photo above but they do cast a lovely soft glow, definitely enough to see the face of the person you're sharing a glass of wine with.  I still need to putter around with a more careful placement of the individual bulbs, but I foresee many pleasant summer nights on this balcony! The photo below is a night shot, but with a flash.

I need furniture, but I haven't quite decided what I want yet.  I'm thinking metal bistro table and chairs for meals and working, but haven't found a set I love.  More on that to come.  Overall I'm quite happy.  The forsythia is pleasant enough in the spring but I'm looking forward to having a green wall all summer long.  I also am enjoying the instant effect that comes with its size.  Finally, as frequently as I travel, I am fairly certain this will weather drought.  And since I may not be in this apartment for long, I won't be disappointed when I demo this, as I may have if it was an espalier apple or magnolia.

Jasminum nudiflorum

Chances are you've seen a lot of this plant lately -- particularly if you are in the DC area or walking around Central Park in New York.  Though it's hard to miss right now -- with it's bright yellow flowers -- you may have previously assumed it was another Forsythia. 

And from a distance, that's a reasonable assumption.  They have a similar flower color and both bloom in early spring when few other species are blooming.  However, the green, square stems of winter jasmine are quite different from the putty colored woody stems of Forsythia and the flowers consist of five petals with an elongated, tubular neck, whereas Forsythia is four-petaled.

Also, Forsythia can be an upright shrub or a pendulous specimen (depending on the species).  Jasminum nudiflorum is always a cascading shrub and is often seen used to best effect in a scenario like the one below at Dumbarton Oaks.

Forsythia Dell at Dumbarton Oaks

I"m shamed to say I didn't even realize there was a "Forsythia Dell" in Dumbarton Oaks until last week.  Had I known, I would have waited for these pics before posting my ambivalent thoughts on Forsythia last week. 

 

That's not to say my opinion on Forstyhia has changed much.  I still think it's overused, and doesn't contribute much to a garden after its bloom time.  But this planting - an acre of Forsythia shared between Dumbarton Oaks and Dumbarton Oaks Park - does make a compelling argument for the genus.

Winter Daphne

So yes, perhaps on first glance you see the star magnolia in this pic and you are second guessing my post title.  But then, you look more closely and see a spotty shrub growing out of the fence, and you feel the need to inspect more closely.  That's pretty much what my experience was when I parked across from this Georgetown garden a few days ago.

 

I knew, from across the street, that it wasn't an early Ericaceous plant like azalea or andromeda and it wasn't one of the many sulfur-yellow early spring plants, like Forsythia, Cornus mas or Jasminum nudiflorum (more on that one next week).  I suspected it could be winter daphne, or Daphne odora, but had my doubts.  The plant is notoriously difficult to grow and it seemed unlikely to thrive here, jammed in an urban, crowded garden. 

 

But at closer inspection, it sure enough was winter daphne.  The glossy, broad leaves with faintly variegated margins, the round infloresences and of course the dizzying, heady fragrance are all clear giveaways.  If I didn't want the owners of that lovely home to sue me, I'd tell you where I found this plant and insist you smell it for yourself.  It's utterly intoxicating.

But as I said, it's a tough plant to keep happy.  Dirr says, "What a wonderful plant! Temperamental, trying, but worth all the attention."  Sounds like some relationships!

Speaking of which, this presents a perfect opportunity to address the plant's nomenclature.  Daphne is named for the mythological Greek nymph who, in order to avoid Apollo's fervent love and desire for her, prayed for help and was transformed into a laurel (Laurus nobilis).  In ancient Greece, Laurus nobilis was referred to as Daphne.  How and when the new genus Daphne acquired its name and Laurus started being called laurel, is a mystery I cannot shed light on today.