Redemption and Judgement

If I hadn't felt a responsibility to remove (mow) the spent peony foliage down last weekend, I would have entirely missed the annual bloom of the nearby and sadly neglected Hamamelis virginiana, my erstwhile 'Jelena' that I now believe was sold to me falsely identified.  In fact, the pale yellow blooms, plentiful as they are, might have still been missed if the foliage of the shrub had not already dropped. My love-hate relationship with this shrub has not improved over the past few years during my abandonment of its care, but with this latest attempted display of blooms when nothing else braves blooming, I have resolved to follow Luke 6:29, "offer the other cheek", and allow it a chance at redemption.

That last statement, written down and seen  and reread in words, seems blazingly presumptuous, an open declaration of my self-proclaimed status as the garden's judge, jury, and executioner; carelessly risking a lightning bolt or two cast in the direction of my blasphemous gardening soul.  Upon further contemplation, however, I do view the gardener as the God, or at least the stand-in Caretaker, of their garden, making annual and daily decisions about the lives and survival of all the creatures within the gardener's gaze.  Perhaps we are merely the Instruments of Divine Provenance, under illusion that we have any control in the garden, but the act of gardening is at least pretending that we are the ones deciding what to plant, where it goes into the ground, and how it is cared for.

I think that's quite enough digression into the philosophical abyss for one day, ProfessorRoush.  Returning to the subject du jour, suffice it to say that I have allowed this Hamamelis to be overrun by the wild Rosa multiflora that has been growing in the same space, and the Witch Hazel has suffered greatly in the absence of my attentions.  I first noticed the R. multiflora several years back, and have enjoyed its spring display of blossoms and the orange hips that follow it into autumn, but enough is enough; a choice must be made.  One can hardly discern the straggly limbs of the Witch Hazel from their entanglement with the long slender canes of the rose.  This Judgement Day seems overdue for these two plants. 

At its base, shown here, the multiflora rose is seen growing to the left and slightly behind the Hamamelis.  Low to the ground, I braved the thorns and branches and, one-by-one, chopped the rose canes off close to the ground, spraying the still-green stumps with brush-killer to prevent any regrowth.  Finally, the only chore left was to disentangle and remove the rose canes from their close embrace with the Witch Hazel, a task accomplished with only a minor release of profanity and loss of blood by the gardener.  The common name, Witch Hazel, was appropriate for the "toil and trouble" it caused me this day.

It stands now, alone, my (likely) Hamamelis virginiana, looking perhaps despondent at the loss of its volunteer companion, but with a better chance for growth and survival.   I will prune it this spring to encourage it to fill in and prosper without its former competitive neighbor.  The blooms themselves are not as large and brightly-colored as I expected when I planted it, but as my garden shuts down and awaits winter, I'll accept whatever gifts it may meagerly send in my direction.   

Peony Planting

'Coral Sunset'

I don't know about the rest of youse, but ProfessorRoush, he is off in the world planting peonies today. A late "backorder" from John Scheepers came in this week, and today I must, I must, I just MUST, get these into the ground alongside the Orientpets and other bulbs from that establishment that I received and planted some weeks ago. 

 That darned Scheeper's catalogue, along with its sister site, Van Engelen Inc., are becoming a major drain on my annual planting budget as my gardening focus turns towards low-maintenance plantings.   I already planted a number of new daylilies this fall and the Orientpets that I'm fascinated with often come along with a few other miscellaneous bulbs that catch my eye in the catalogs.  I'd forgotten, however, that I'd ordered 4 new peonies from Scheepers.  Today, I'm planting 'Raspberry Sundae' (a peony I've long coveted but it struggles here), 'Sorbet' (my previous start purchased at a big-box store is, in reality, likely a common 'Sarah Bernhardt'), and two roots of 'Joker', the latter an irresistible pink-edged white double peony that caught my eye as I viewed the catalogue offerings.  Hopefully, next Spring I'll be showing those off to you!

Today, however, the peony of focus today is one I planted just last year, blooming for the first time in my garden.  The photographed peony on this page is 'Coral Sunset', an early bloomer that captures the sunny disposition of May in Kansas and gifts it back to the gardener.   I've wanted this 1965 Wisser introduction  since I saw it on a slide in a lecture his son, Roy Klehm, gave at the National Botanical Garden in 2008, and I finally planted a labeled specimen last year.  It was healthy this year for me, and produced 5 or 6 of these beautiful blooms that perfectly color-complimented the potted pink Pelargonium behind it.  'Coral Sunset' received an APS Gold Medal Award in 2003.   

If they are not in bloom and you can't confirm the variety visually, there are really only two ways to buy plants that you covet.  First, purchase a known start from a trusted local or online nursery and hold them accountable for its identity.  That's the smart way to spend your money.  Alternatively, you can purchase a bargain plant whose name you vaguely recognize from a big-box store and hope and pray to the gardening gods that it is not mislabeled.  Sometimes, the latter works out as it did the year I purchased my 'Lillian Gibson' rose from Home Depot.  Often, it doesn't.  I can't tell you how many peony roots I've purchased that were labeled as something I wanted but turned out to be just one more 'Sarah Bernhardt' bomb.  However, two years ago, I purchased a container of two peony roots labeled as 'Coral Sunset' and, looking at the picture to the right as one of them first bloomed this summer in my south-facing back bed, they just may be 'Coral Sunset' or its nearly identical but taller older sister, 'Coral Charm'.    Wouldn't it be something if I have three of these gorgeous coral creatures already?

Surprise Snake

There I was, minding my own business last weekend while I was doing some fall-cleanup chores; you know, things like putting the peony supports up for the winter, filling the bird feeders, and mowing off dead peony stems.   And there it was, trying to be inconspicuous and camouflaged for the surrounding.  Luckily for both of us, it moved.   Do you see it?   As you look closer, please be courteous and ignore the fact that most of the "green" stuff here are weeds (Common Dayflowers). Sometimes, one surrenders to the chaos.

Here, I'll outline it for you.  Now can you find it?   Thank God, at the time I discovered it that I wasn't weeding on my knees with bare hands like I did in this bed during the hottest part of the summer!  It seems late in the season to come across a snake, and it was relatively cool that day, maybe 55F at the time I took this picture, so I certainly didn't expect the encounter.  Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of snakes in the grasses of the prairie, but I rarely see one.  Just search for "snake" in the search box on the right hand side if you want to see other species that I've encountered here.

I'm sure this is a North American Racer (Coluber constrictor), and a big one too.    If the species maximum length is up to 55.5 inches, this one was every bit of 50 inches long and 2 inches in diameter at its thickest area, although I didn't ask it to hold still for any measurement, nor did I go inside and come back out with a measuring tape. In fact, once it recognized that I had noticed it, it quickly slithered away, gone as I attempted to zoom in for better detail.  I got more detail than I really wanted anyway; just click on any picture here to see it full size.  

Here, I'll give you a closeup of the head.   Now can you see it?   Internet sources tell me it is harmless, not really a constrictor, and prefers to dine on insects, frogs, lizards, small mammals, and small birds rather than large, hyperventilating gardeners.  But if you've read my blog since its beginning, you know that factoid doesn't bring me any comfort.   I hate snakes, although I do acknowledge their value in controlling vermin in my landscape and I am less prone to running headlong into the next county at the sight of one then I used to be.  Regardless, if this guy's (girl's?) home territory is really 25 acres, I'll likely never see it again.   Or so I hope.  One sighting is more than ample.

Missed the Memo

Sweet Gum

ProfessorRoush woke up this morning a little late, reading on his bedside clock that it was just prior to 7:00 a.m.   Normally his eyes shoot open, fully awake, at 5:30 a.m. and he seldom sleeps past 6:00 a.m, so that was a little odd, but pleased at gaining a little extra sleep, he went about his Sunday in his usual pattern; 1) close bedroom door so Mrs. ProfessorRoush can sleep in, 2) let Bella out, 3) feed Bella, 4) get on the computer to read the news and forums and blog.  It was dark still, and a glance out the window told me there was frost on the ground, but I entirely missed realizing that it was still too dark for 7:00 a.m.

It wasn't until Mrs. ProfessorRoush rose an hour later and turned on the television for the news, expecting that she was a little late for "Meet the Press" and finding "Sunday Today" in its place, that we realized that the governmental tyrants had once again failed to repeal "Daylight Savings Time" and have forced themselves upon our biological clocks.  Again.  It was still 7:06 a.m. and I'd been up for over an hour.

This morning, I had intended to blog about the changing colors in the landscape and the beauty that Fall brings to the prairie, but instead, I'm aggravated that the time arbitrarily changed and the madness continues.  I have nothing to look forward to except a week of being sleepy early in the evening and driving to work with the sun in my eyes.

Sour Gum

Along the way, I was planning to point out the fantastic colors of the Sweet Gum, Liquidambar styraciflua, (photo above)  that I planted near the barn, and to talk about the pros and cons of my Black Tupelo, Nyssa sylvatica, which is also known as a "Sour Gum" or "Black Gum" tree.   The latter is one of the most dependable trees for red foliage each fall, but I've found that you had better be quick to enjoy it because the leaves turn and then the first cold wind will strip them off.  I could be also waxing poetic about my Red Horse-Chestnut (photo below), Aesculus x carnea, a true "three-season" tree with pinkish-orange flowers in spring, yellow fall foliage, and the brown chest-nuts I pick up from around it in the winter.

Red Horse-Chestnut

I should, instead of ranting about the authoritarian time change, be planting the bulbs that arrived via mail this week, admiring the fall colors of the prairie, and enjoying the last relatively warm days before I have to force myself out into the cold each week for necessary seasonal chores.  But thank you, One World Order, for this disruption  in my pattern as I once again face your unreasonable demands and the upset of my entire metabolism.  A Pox on both houses of Congress!