Each Little World

Bulb alert

It's April! Have you ordered your bulbs yet? I don't typically plant a lot of bulbs each year, but I always get some. I like to try something new or add more of a favorite that's done well for me in the past. Since I also like to order from specialty nurseries like Old House Gardens, Brent and Becky's Bulbs and Odyssey Bulbs, I know that I will be out of luck if I wait until summer to place my order. So for the last few years, I've been ordering my fall-planted bulbs in March. This year I'm getting two Tulip varieties that I've looked at in the past and decided now's the moment to try them. 

Tulip sylvestris:

OHG says this heirloom plant is violet-scented with "small, yellow, almond-shaped flowers that nod in bud and then open wide in the sun. Gerard pictured it in his great Herbal of 1597" and Thomas Jefferson grew it at Monticello. Also known as the  ""Florentine Tulip,"  T. sylvestris grows 8-14 inches tall and is hardy in zones 5a-8a.

This Tulip is unusual in that it is generally considered a perennial performer if it is happy and it is often grown in woodland settings. I am thinking of trying some bulbs near Erythronium 'Pagoda" and purple Epimediums and others near some pink and yellow Erythroniums and Fritillaries.

What I need to do next is take photos this spring so I know where to plant the bulbs when the arrive in the fall. And I need to mark those spots in some way as well.  

Tulipa whittallii

According to "The Plant Lover's Guide to Tulips" from the Kew series of guide books, T. whittallii is a species Tulip that is supposedly one of the best that can be grown in the open garden. It blooms in various shades of orange set off with a dark, round heart and is up to 12" tall with narrow leaves. The book notes that though it comes from Turkey, it is "surprisingly adaptable to cooler, wetter regions."

I planted a clumps of bronze and orange Tulips under our weeping purple Beech last fall. I put them in a rough row behind a swath of Astilbes. I am hoping I can shoehorn T. wittallii bulbs among the Astilbes which will hide the dying foliage. I like the idea of slightly shorter, more delicate Tulips contrasting with the big blowzy ones. 

The leaves of the purple Beech unfurl in lovely warm peach color with mauve and bronze overlay. The Astilbes emerge with very dark foliage — all of which should do well with the Tulip colors. Certainly it looks fabulous in my mind's eye. We will see how it looks in person eventually.

2018: Year of the Tulip

The National Garden Bureau has declared 2018 to be "The Year of the Tulip," pointing out that "their vivid, paint-box colors are a feast for winter-weary eyes." My Tulips that are planted in the traffic island (below) in front of our house nicely prove the truth of that statement. This location is one of the few places where I have had Tulip bulbs bloom for multiple years.

The National Garden Bureau also pointed out that Tulips have been cultivated in earnest for at least 400 years. and that there are over 150 species of tulips with over 3,000 different varieties and are classified into 16 Divisions by types. I love that kind of horticultural trivia. But you don't need to know it in order to grow Tulips. What you need to succeed in growing these beauties is advice from an expert. I love cutting Tulips from the garden for my spring bouquets (below), so I was happy to have a chance to hear from a Tulip expert in person.

I was lucky enough to attend a presentation at the Allen Centennial Gardens Spring Symposium by Tulip expert Jacqueline van der Kloet. Her name may be familiar to you as one of the designers involved with the Lurie Garden in Chicago; Kloet created their matrix of flowering spring bulbs.  Her own garden in the Netherlands is highly inspirational as well, but on a domestic scale that all of us can learn from. This image gives you a sense of how she includes Tulips within perennial beds where their new spring foliage hides the dying Tulip foliage.

Jacqueline van der Kloet offered these planting tips if you want your Tulips to return again — and again:

1. Plant the bulbs  at least 5 inches (12.7 cm.) deep

2. Plant in full sun

3. Deadhead when the flowers no longer close at night

4. Leave the leaves AND stem which are necessary to produce new bulbs

My advice is to keep your phone handy so you can snap photos this spring of Tulips that catch your eye. Be sure to note the name so you will be able to find them when it comes time to order bulbs for fall planting. 

"Color Your Garden: Exciting Mixtures of Bulbs and Perennials" is the title of van der Kloet's book which is coming out at the end of March. Be democratic and buy local: Order van der Kloet's book from your favorite independent bookseller instead of buying it from the gigantic corporation who shall remain nameless. My personal favorite is Mystery to Me bookstore on Monroe St. I've had them order me all kinds of different books and I've bought poetry, politics and kids' books from their in-store stock. It goes without saying that they are superb if you are looking for a mystery. Not only do they carry an outstanding array of titles and authors but they always turn me on to someone or something new whenever I visit. 

Remembering Seth Cardew

I couldn't resist these vibrant tulips at the grocery store on Monday. They went in one of my all-time favorite vases by Wisconsin potter Mark Skudlarek. Our home and garden are filled with Mark's pots, plates, bowls —  you name it. 

It seemed only fitting that they be joined by my teapot made by potter Seth Cardew, Skudlarek's former father-in-law, who died last month. I keep Seth's teapot in the cupboard surrounded by all my containers of tea so it's always at the ready when needed. It's decorated with Cardew's artfully painted bird, feels good in the hand and pours beautifully. The Cardew family are famed for their pottery, made for many years at Wenford Bridge in Cornwall. We're honored to have these two pieces.

Turkish Tulip

Although a species bulb, Tulipa acuminata is supposedly no longer found in its native habitat. It can be catalogue dated back to the early 1800's, but it is believed to be a survivor from a hundred years earlier when tulips like this little oddity were all the fashion in the Ottoman empire. I'm happy to say it's made a very fashionable appearance in my garden this spring.

Weekend garden report: 5.05.14

Two days with temperatures that managed to get into the 50s and 60s Fahrenheit (that's teens in Celsius) with a fair amount of sun pushed the garden into growing mode. This week is supposed to continue the warming trend so I expect to see some blooms beyond Hellebores and minor bulbs. We snapped these pictures at the end of the day Sunday so some flowers had closed with the sinking sun.

Love this little Tulipa humilis 'Odalisque' from Brent and Becky Heath (above). It's red on the exterior with a "beet-root purple" interior and a yellow base. It's planted near yellow Primula veris and red Trillium erectum. Nearby is this lavender Glaucidium palmatum (below). I just added a couple of Primula 'Springtime' which are lavender-pink with a yellow eye to further tie the grouping together.

All the Hellebores are in full bloom. That little stick you see in the center of the Hellebores is actually a Carolina Silverbell tree that I put in last summer to replace the Hawthorne that came down in the winter of 2012/13. It appears to have made it through this winter.

I think Paeonia japonica (foreground) will bloom this week given the temperatures that are predicted. Behind the big pot is Paeonia obvata whose buds are still small. Trilliums and primroses in the left rear are ready to explode with another warm day or two.

Helleborus 'Ivory Prince' is at the top of a slope and is outward facing, making it one of the few Hellebores that I can enjoy face to face. 

Double bloodroots are developing into a nice clump, though they have not spread further afield.

Manchurian maple (below) has great fall color and gorgeous buds in spring. It's growing under a big sugar maple.

Late light on Marsh marigolds in the bog at the side of the pond.

The view standing behind the marsh marigolds.

Traffic island update: Spring 2011

This is my full sun garden that's out in the middle of the street in front of our house. It's what's known locally as a traffic island. But I think of it is an example of a garden that survives in spite of everything: drivers run over it, snowplows scrape off the topsoil along with the snow and the city dumps copious amounts of road salt and sand on it each winter while they attempt to keep the roads clear.

These tulips (from Brent & Becky's Bulbs and Old House Gardens) were planted in 2008, so this is their third season of bloom. They could hardly be happier. If you enter "traffic island" in the search button on the top left of the page, all the posts I've written about this garden will come up. You'll find its entire history along with the names of all the tulips. 

In addition to catmint, Hakonechloa grass and sedums, Oriental lilies from Brent & Becky are also flourishing. The lilies and tulips are doing better in this location than anywhere else in the garden. Part of it is the light, but I think some of it has to do with the bulbs not getting overwatered in summer since I ignore that little garden unless there is an actual drought. Sometimes, ignoring a plant appears the best way to treat it.

Tulips survive on the island

My bright orange tulips made it through another winter and have come up with surprising vigor. The clumps are generally large and healthy and so are the flowers. That's something I did not expect, given the fact that tulips generally wither away with age. And that these particular bulbs are planted in poor soil, breathe auto exhaust 24/7 and get an annual top-dressing of salt, sand and road grit.

 

The city just repainted the traffic lines in time for them to harmonize with the tulips in this island planting and the Poeticus Narcissus, with orange and yellow perinanths, which are planted along the curb — just out of view.

This view shows you that the city has not, however, repainted the borders of the raised island bed itself. Its paint is chipping away in big chunks and strips. And you can also see that I've been rather neglectful of this bed, too. I have not trimmed back the dead sedum flowerheads and I've let the Iris germanica get totally out of hand. It likes this location and would happily take over the entire bed.

 

The tulip bulbs came from Brent and Becky's Bulbs and Old House Gardens and I've also written more about them (complete with close-ups of each variety and IDs) here. It appears as though I have as many bulbs in bloom this year as last — essentially the same number as I planted — making them continuing traffic stoppers! 
  

Bulbs: Traffic island update

When it comes to tulips, I've avoided them for the most part. Not having that much sun or that much of a penchant for bright colors. But then I bought an orange linen shirt. Could orange tulips be far behind?

I planted this group of 'General de Wet'  tulips (below) between two red barberries and two clumps of 'Black Parrot' tulips to tone them down a bit. Alas, I didn't write down the date they opened but it's easily been a couple of weeks that I've been enjoying their blooms — the benefit of a rather cool spring.

The spot that gets the most sun and could handle a dose of bright color is "my 'island garden." This is the full sun garden located in the center of the street in front of my house. Once the trees and shrubs leaf out I can't really see it, so I can go crazy there and not worry about color clashes with the main garden.

I was rather worried about what would happen this spring after the winter "traffic island tragedy" when a truck ran over the snow-covered bed and flattened the sign. Imagine my surprise — and dismay — when the city sent someone out to reposition the sign in January. They dug up the mostly frozen bed and stuck the sign in place with concrete. I feared for the plants but look what spring brought: 

Prinses Irene: "melon orange flamed with bronze purple" from Old House Gardens (above).

Orange Princess:  The double form of Prinses Irene (above and below) from Brent and Becky's Bulbs.

Sensual Touch: In bud and bloom in the following four pictures. Brent and Becky said "this 55 mph wonder packs a lot of bang for your buck." No kidding! It's a stunner and is lasting nicely as a cut flower indoors with orange Epimediums.

The island garden viewed from the street edge of my front garden with Narcissus poeticus 'Pheasant Eye' basking in the early evening sun (below).

It's always exciting when a garden idea works out just as you envisioned it. My island is the blaze of color I'd hoped to create with the tulips I planted last fall. They're almost stopping traffic with their fiery hues — nicely set off by the bright yellow traffic paint. 

Princess Irene is in the center behind the fan of iris leaves; Orange Prinses is behind Irene and to the right while Sensual Touch is in two clumps on the left. Still to come at the back of the island is a clump of Orange Favorite.

Bulbs: Strange and subtle

I love the most common garden plants, but I also love plants at the opposite end of the scale; plants with history, provenance, an intriguing name, odd shape or unusual color. I'm growing two spring bulbs that fall into the latter categories.

ODD SHAPE: Acuminata tulip (above and below) will amaze all your friends. Old House Gardens (where I bought my bulbs) says it's unknown in the wild and probably the remaining survivor from the early 1700s when "tulips like it were all the rage in the Ottoman Empire." OHG named it their Heirloom Bulb of the Year in 2004. 

Acuminata announces its presence even in bud. In bloom, its petals twist and turn and are as sharp as needles. A delightful oddity.

ODD COLOR: I've had Fritillaria pontica (below) in the garden for three years but this is the first time it has bloomed. Marauding rabbits kept eating it until this year when I caged the new shoots the moment they appeared. To be honest, it had been so long since I planted these bulbs I really didn't remember what they were.

I kept watching them emerge and get taller (to about 12"), waiting for a clue to their indentity. A few days ago I realized the flowers were almost open, but were so subtle I hadn't noticed. The bell-shaped flowers are mostly green with purplish-brown edges and one to three per stem. These Fritillaries are growing in semi-shade at the edge of path under the trees where they look totally charming.

If I had only remembered these bulbs were in my garden, then I would have partnered them with the Fritiallaria imperialis 'William Rex" I planted as an experiment last fall. It's a shorter (18-24") version of the classic Crown Imperial but  a "rich, dark, bronzy red," according to Brent and Becky Heath, where I bought the bulb. Looking at the photo on their Web site, I'm betting it would look great with the ponticas. I'll know for sure once King William blooms; then I can re-arrange the plantings and get it right for next year! 

Bulbs: Double Dutch

The showstopper flower in last year's Spring garden is wowing us again this year. I took the plunge in the Fall of 2007 and planted tulips for the first time in years. The all performed well, but the one that captured our hearts was “Schoonoord.” In 1935 Louise Beebee Wilder said it was “an old variety but invaluable.” It’s a flower that I've decided I never want to be without now that I’ve grown it.

The green and yellow striped buds open into lushly double white flowers touched with gold. Anyone who's seen them in a vase thought they were peonies. Since they first began to open, Schoonoord's drawn Mark and I out into the garden day after day in every light and weather to enjoy its changing beauty. Luckily I ordered enough bulbs that I felt free to cut as many as I wanted to bring indoors.

It came back this Spring surprisingly strong. And again, is so fetching that I think I must order more bulbs. Luckily they are currently listed on the fabulous Old House Gardens site. Now the big question is 10 more or 25? You know which way I'm leaning don't you?

Mark took photos of Schoonoord like she was our firstborn! And I kept sending him back to get just one more ...

Scott Kunst of Old House Gardens is such a sweet guy; he put a link to my column about Old House bulbs on his Web site. You can see what I said about some of their other bulbs here.