Hunter Tribute

ProfessorRoush is trying his best this year to bring Garden Musings back to its focus on my first love (beyond, of course, the beautiful Mrs. ProfessorRoush!); roses.   In that spirit, he has compiled a number of comments, thoughts and photos from the just-finished first flush of blooms, and would like to start by updating my assessment of a previously-discussed rose; the Hybrid Rugosa 'Hunter'.

My specimen of 'Hunter', planted in 1999 in my front landscape bed, seemed to peak during the 2012 season.   As I recall, its decline started after damage by an ice storm in 2015, and, surrounded by a bright red Monarda and burgundy Knautia macedonia, it struggled to compete, lingered and seemed weaker each season, and finally perished in 2017 or 2018.  Although I'm not sure if competition, poor sunlight, or old age contributed the most to 'Hunter's loss (or all three, equally) I can state with some confidence that the rose never showed any signs of Rose Rosette Disease and it remained only minimally affected by blackspot.  

I'll spare you the over-enthusiastic attempt at a poetic tribute this time, but  I missed 'Hunter' enough that I replanted a small band in 2022, this time in a more southern exposure, protected from the north winter winds by the house and near my bedroom window where I would see it more often, although the new site is also subject to more severe crosswinds and the ground is more dry in that area.  

Once again, the second coming of 'Hunter' in its now third season has grown into a spectacle, as you can see in these first 4 photos.   These were taken during first bloom cycle of 'Hunter'-2, around the 2nd week of May, when it opened every bud and petal all at once, a mass of "almost crimson", and became a show-stopper at the end of my back patio.   At 2.5 feet tall and 4 feet wide, it seems to be reaching full adulthood and is enjoying the current spot.  It shows absolutely no disease and had no winter dieback these past two winters.  

And now, 5 weeks later, it appears to be heading into another bloom cycle, slightly less flamboyant on its own, but this time accompanied not by 'John Cabot' and 'Konigin von Danemark' behind it, but by the daylilies 'Bubblegum Delicious' (left) and a yellow-green spider daylily whose name I've lost to history.  'Hunter' has also sprouted a couple of vigorous new canes that are reaching higher.  I can't wait to see what it does next!

(Non sequitur; has anyone else noticed that the iPhone 16 seems to have better representation of the reds than previous iPhones and digital cameras?  I'm much happier with the red tones of digital pictures these days!)

HollyHock Homage

Well, the Hollyhocks survived the critters and wind!  ProfessorRoush has a large patch of self-seeded, self-hybridized Alcea rosea which range from deep black (I started with the 'Black Beauty' cultivar) to blood-red to clear, perfect pink.  I don't plant or cultivate them in any way except to allow them to sprout where I think they won't elbow out adjacent perennials and to spray them, as noted in a recent blog, with deer deterrents.  My favorite colors are the brighter reds like the photo to the right, although all colors are welcome here even as they attempt to smother a couple of Old Garden Roses and my Kon-Tiki Head statue (which can be seen peeking out here and there in the photos).  And now, unusually for ProfessorRoush and GardenMusings, I think I'll shut up and let the Hollyhocks speak for themselves.

Natives Now

The prairie is full of native flowers blooming in early June.  Just a walk around the perimeter of my mowed area allowed me to capture all these.  ProfessorRoush is going to keep the gab to a minimum today, although I'll still identify each for you.  And while I do, be thinking....what characteristic do all these plants have in common?  There will be a quiz at the end.

This photo is of the low-growing Catclaw Sensitive Briar (Mimosa quadrivalvis), a member of the Fabaceae (or Bean family), so named because of the prickly pods that catch exposed ankles as you walk by, and for the delicate leaflets that fold when touched.  It has a long bloom period and can be seen blooming over most of May and June.

Of similar color, the Illinois Tickclover (Desmodium illinoense) is another Fabaceae, taller and more sparsely represented on my spot of prairie.  Late in the summer, the mature seedpods of this plant cling to my pants and hitchhike wherever I walk, often causing me to sit and pick at my pant-legs for a long time before they get washed. 

As I think about it, these native Black-Sampson Echinacea (Echinacea angustifolia) also display a similar muted pink-purple hue during their bloom.   The blooms quickly become bedraggled by wind and local insects.

These Echinacea are abundant in my area, and are favorites of local butterflies, bees, and finches.

I've posted a photo before of the Fringe-Leaf Ruellia (Ruellia humilis), but didn't write much about it.  It grows freely, low to the ground, in both the mowed areas of the yard and in the taller native prairie.  I have it stuck in my head that Ruellia is a violet of some type and I have to correct myself each time I see and identify it.

There are many forms of Asteraceae, composite flowers of the Sunflower family, that bloom and attract native insects and birds on the prairie. Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron strigosus) is one of those, 2-3 feet tall and easily visible among the grasses. It does not, contrary to myth, repel fleas from man nor from beast.

Another Asteraceae member presently blooming are the Black-Eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta).  This gray-green, hairy-leafed plant doesn't compete well with prairie grasses, but it sprouts willingly on disturbed ground.   If I showed you a picture of my vegetable garden right now, you'd think I was growing it preferentially there (which I do, since I don't weed it out unless it is adjacent to a tomato, zucchini, or other intentional planting.  

I could, and should, show you photos a few dozen clumps of Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa).  This unmatched bright-orange color uniquely stands out in the grasses and I encourage it to grow and seed wherever it chooses on the prairie or even in my garden beds.

One thing about Asclepias, it draws butterflies and bees from everywhere.  I really should start learning to identify bees and wasps so that I can recognize and encourage either of these visitors to my prairie.

Click on this picture to expand it and you'll see both a butterfly and a bee on the upper left of this single spray.  I'm not sure, but the butterfly here is perhaps a Pearl Crescent (Phyciodes tharos), common in my area.

The prairie is awash right now with clumps of Wild Alfalfa (Pediomelum tenuiflorum), providing some blue tones to contrast with the yellows and whites.  If you view the flowers up close, you can see why this plant is placed in the Bean family.

Last, but not least for a gardener who is always looking for roses, I'll show you a closeup of Rosa arkansana, the Prairie Wild Rose.  R. arkansana is a low-growing, once blooming, winter-hardy rose that has been used in the breeding programs of Ag Canada.  It is everywhere on the prairie, food for insects and animals alike.

And now, what characteristic do all these have in common?  Along with also-currently-blooming but unpictured Lead Plant (Amorpha canescens), Waxy-Leaf Thistle (Cirsium undulatum), White Prairie Clover (Dalea candida) and Purple Prairie Clover (Dalea purpurea) and Woolly Verbena (Verbena stricta)?   All of these are drought resistant natives, stoic in the face of the fickle prairie rains.   They hold a hidden message of hope for the gardener; "for best results, choose drought-resistant perennials and shrubs!!!!"

Paramount Protection

As if the continual struggle to maintain a socially respectable garden (or even a personally disappointing garden) wasn't enough, in addition to the obstacles of pounding rain, hail, late snows, early or late frosts, extreme temperature swings, tornadic winds, drought, insects, plant diseases, poor soil fertility, and just general calamity and misfortune, one must also consider the damages wrought by higher order creatures such as deer, rabbits, and the neighbor's occasionally-present dog.    

I've been oscillating all Spring on an action plan to limit the damage caused to my roses by a particularly prolific passel of rabbits in my garden.   At one point, a few weeks back, I recall looking out my back window and counting no fewer than 4 bunnies visible in my field of view (which likely doesn't even come close to the number that were hiding).  Bunnies, as many here are aware, don't eat daylilies or weeds or Wild Lettuce or native forbs, they preferentially eat, to my chagrin, roses, and go after the young tender ones first! When several young rose starts were pruned almost to the ground, I briefly contemplated ventilating their circulatory and respiratory systems with solid lead deterrents, but instead chose to spend $28 on a 25 foot spool of galvanized wire and made these protective cages, 11 of them so far.   I'll report back on how they work in the long run, but so far they seem to be keeping the rabbits away.

I was even more alarmed at finding this sight one morning; I've been watching this hollyhock patch daily, anticipating a fabulous bloom, but obviously another creature viewed it as an "all you can chomp" smorgasbord.  A creature measuring about 4 foot tall at the mouth and one that I suspect is hooved, with velvet lips and a fluffy white tail.   

The very sight panicked me, for this is just one "clump" in a large area of self-seeded hollyhocks, all otherwise healthy and forming some large delicate blooms.  I was counting on this patch to give me a luscious, even heavenly, hollyhock display, and now I was looking at the potential destruction of all of it, within a few nights, just bare stems and sadness left behind.  Should I stay awake all night with flashlights and a rifle at hand?  Keep pots and pans handy to startle them away? Hang soap and garlic from some stakes in the area?  Build a 10 foot tall peripheral fence topped with barbed wire and mined for 30 feet into the prairie?

Well, I won't keep you in suspense.   I ran quickly to the store to find a fresh supply of a repellent and chose this one.  Composed, among other things, of "putrid egg solids," I can attest, spraying it around the hollyhocks, that it indeed has an unpleasant odor, and I've found that Mrs. ProfessorRoush can detect it from more than 5 feet away, which is the closest she allowed me in her presence for quite some period of time after spraying the plants.  A week has gone by and the hollyhocks are blooming now and I can fully endorse it as a deterrent for close contact with deer and wives.  One takes a win where and when it occurs!

Oh, and the neighbor's dog?   Well, Liquid Fence doesn't work to keep that moron out of my flower beds.  In fact, evidently, rotten eggs are an aphrodisiac when you only have two neurons that synapse together.  At least the bumbling idiot hasn't trampled one of my wire cages yet!