Lambert Closse

'Lambert Closse'

Along with 'John Cabot', another new rose to my garden that will have to "grow" to gain my full favor is the pink shrub rose 'Lambert Closse', another of the Explorer Series roses from Ag Canada.  'Lambert Closse' was introduced in 1995 (or 1994 depending on where you read about it) at l'Assomption in Quebec.  He has been in my garden only 2 years, but is already a gangly lad with sparse canes sprawling almost to 5 feet tall.

ProfessorRoush said "sparse canes", but I really should have said "cane", as in the singular form.   My specimen had an odd first growth year, putting up several weak spindly canes, and then a single long thick cane that had me worried it was a sucker from a nearby 'Dr. Huey' plant.  This year, however 2-3 other healthy canes are sprouting from the base and starting to catch up to last year's prodigy.  

'Lambert Closse' (formerly Ottawa 'U33') was a cross of bright yellow Floribunda 'Arthur  Bell' (McGredy, 1959) with pink and the vigorous Canadian semi-climber 'John Davis', an odd match if ever there was one.  The result, against all odds, is a very double flower of the clearest medium pink, borne in loose clusters and a bush reportedly hardy to Zone 3 (I saw the rose lose about 6 inches on its canes this winter here in Kansas).  'Lambert Closse' has glossy, healthy foliage and bears nonremarkable hips in Fall and Winter.

Bred by Dr. Ian S. Ogilvie and Dr. Felicitas Svejda in 1983, 'Lambert Closse' is named for a French merchant, Raphaël Lambert Closse (1618-1662), who made a name for himself fighting the Iroquois and first met his wife, Elisabeth Moyen, while rescuing her from them in 1657.  He was ultimately killed by the Iroquois only 5 years later, so we will leave judgement of the true quality of his tactical military skills to the historians.  

'Lambert Closse' open

So how do I really feel about 'Lambert Closse', the rose?   Well, he grew bigger than I expected (it is officially listed to be 0.85m tall, so much shorter than it grows for me), and the bush is more like an ugly Modern Rose than an attractive vase-form or rounded shrub.  The initially chaste tea-form buds open too quickly for my taste, in a day, to a flat form with yellow stamens.  And I probably won't like the "occasional repeat" that is reported for this rose, although some sources say it blooms continually from June through September when it is mature.  But I love the color, which doesn't "blue" on wetter, colder days, and the foliage has no blackspot or mildew here.  So, it stays.  For now.  

Canadian John Cabot

I do have a few "new" roses to share this year; roses that have survived a couple of winter seasons and seem to be reaching their mature growth.   I placed the "new" in quotes because they are new roses to me, but, of course, have been commercially available for some time.

It is my pleasure to introduce you to 'John Cabot', introduced by Ag Canada in 1977 according to helpmefind/roses, although other sources say its introduction was in 1978).  Bred by Dr. Felicitas Svejda in 1969, this rose was named after an Italian navigator and explorer (his English name was John Cabot, but he was known as Giovanni Caboto in Italy), who, in 1497, crossed the formidable Atlantic Ocean to the New World and was the first European to reach Newfoundland since the Vikings.

The 'John Cabot' of my acquaintance is a gangly, thorny, sprawling mass of a rose, with some disheveled pink-red blossoms that open quickly to their 3-inch diameter forms in clusters on short stems.  Many petals have a central white streak and, in that way, the rose reminds me of a smaller 'William Baffin'.   Although described to have "mild fragrance" in the entry by helpmefind/roses, I detect no hint of fragrance in the flowers of my specimen.  My 'John Cabot' only bloomed once last year, in June, although it is said to have sporadic rebloom in late summer.  

A Hybrid Kordesii, 'John Cabot' ((Rosa kordesii Wulff x (Masquerade x Rosa laxa)) is said to be hardy to Zone 2B.   He certainly is solidly cane-hardy in winter here in Zone 5, with absolutely no dieback in the past two seasons. and has suffered no blackspot or mildew on his light green, matte foliage. He is also growing in a site where I lost the rambler 'America' to Rose Rosette Disease, but shows no signs of that monstrous disease yet.  At three years of age in my garden, the arching canes top out around 5 feet tall, and the rose has a tendency to grab whatever is passing by. 

In Hardy Roses, Robert Osborne stated that 'John Cabot' is "one of the most important new roses for northern gardens" and that he first saw it labeled as "seedling L07."  Released as a climber, I will prune and grow it as a shrub and try my best to keep it looking less "wild."  

If, as you read this blog entry, you feel that I'm not that fond of 'John Cabot', you are correct.  While I don't despise the rose, it has few exceptional qualities for me to favor.   It IS hardy, healthy, and needs little nurturing to provide a bounty of color in its season, however, so it has earned my attention in the garden, and, as you can see on the right photo taken just after sunrise last Friday, its jarring bright pink color makes it a standout even on a cloudy day.  

Morning Vistas

A "Vista" is defined as "a pleasing view, especially as seen through a long narrow opening."  This morning, ProfessorRoush was simply content to take Bella on a walk around her garden, and taking photos of the broad pleasing views of his garden through his narrow (phone) camera lens.  I'm not going to write a lot about these pictures today, I'll just note a few of the particular roses visible in them and leave them to speak for themselves.  Before you blow them up to look closer, you must promise not to feel smug about all the unpruned deadwood in the roses and the weeds at their feet.  A gardener only has so much time and Spring came at me fast this year.

Roses, from left to right, are tall 'John Cabot', crimson 'Hunter', pink 'Konigan von Danemark', and fading 'Marie Bugnet'

The irises are spectacular this year.  You can see Bella running ahead to the right, sniffing the ground.

Peony 'Buckeye Belle' sits maroon-ly at the feet of bountiful 'Blizzard' Mockorange

One view of a rose bed looking east as the sun rises.  The near border, left to right, is 'Leda', 'Rosalina', and 'Blush Hip'.  The nearly red rose just behind those is 'Duchess of Portland'.

Front to back, these roses are pink 'Duchess de Montebello', bright red 'Survivor' with 'George Vancouver' to it's left, and behind, tall, and pink 'Lillian Gibson'.

I have been hacking around and reviving this bed and 'Lillian Gibson' looks about as poorly as I've ever seen, but I still think she deserves a photo all to herself.

As does this second 'Survivor' specimen, with mauve 'Hanza' and single 'Fru Dagmar Hastrup' following behind it.

Seasonal Musings

'Bric-a-brac'

I don't know what your idle times are like, but ProfessorRoush has but a few minutes in his busy life to devote to random and usually nonsensical mental meanderings.   When he does, it is usually in his Jeep during the 10 minute drive to work, and that time is, fortunately or unfortunately, where the ideas for a moderate number of these posts originate (the equally long drive home is devoted to musing back over the events of the work day and transitioning back to home).

'Parfum de l'Hay'

Last Thursday morning, that thought process, just after a quick walk around the garden that morning with Bella, was "how boring  it must be to live in sub-tropical Florida"...or Hawaii, or the Caribbean islands.   Essentially anywhere without seasons.  With seasons come variety and with variety come all the real joys of the garden.  And joy in the garden is in the seasonal change (and, of course, in the floral pornography that graces this blog).

You people with your Birds of Paradise and massive everblooming pelargoniums and hibiscus and Live Oaks may think you live in paradise, but you'll never know the joys of a clump of blooming peonies, of a long line of flowering lilacs, of the seasonal transition from daffodil to peony to rose to daylily to aster.  True gardeners would trade the changes in their gardens due to the progression of seasons about as easily as a badger would give up its den.

'Buckeye Belle' 

All of the pictures from today's blog are from my own garden, Thursday morning.   The peonies and roses are about to come into full bloom and with them, the beating heart of my garden.  Iris are dotted around and accent the many green clumps of growing daylilies.   Tall Orienpet lilies wait in the wings, wait for the once-blooming roses to exit stage left, anxious to make their own debut.   

'Lambert Closse' (new rose to me)

Would I ever give up the onslaught of peonies, breathtaking in their bounty, new varieties ever expanding the color choices and contrasts and combinations with their neighbors?  Could I live without the anticipation and addition of new roses to my garden (like Canadian 'Lambert Closse' at right), roses that, admittedly, replace weaker roses lost to disease and cold, but even the latter are welcome experiments and witnesses to change?  

'Festiva Maxima'

Daylilies, with their fleeting bloom lives know not a minute's rest before their petals drop.  Roses and peonies see only a few weeks of the garden's cycle, but the gardener sees and rejoices in it all; seasons blending one into another, chill to pleasant to hot to frozen, drought to rain to snow, brown to green to color.

'Lillian Gibson'

And I, both master of and slave to this garden, wouldn't consider trading a single season for the comforts of paradise, of life in a place of never-ending moderation and temperate climate.  Wouldn't I?  Well, maybe in winter.

 

Front door view 05/08/2025.  Lots of columbines!

Time to Stop and Appreciate the Finer Things

'Hope for Humanity'

In the back of my mind, ProfessorRoush has a little nagging voice that keeps saying "you should post, it has been awhile," but I would not have thought that I wouldn't post during the entire month of August.   My, how it flew by!

I blame the unusual weather, more rain than usual, and temperatures that kept weeds growing and me mowing weekend after weekend.  I blame my unfortunate needs for cash, which keep me working long hours during the week, ticking down the clock of my life, time I can't replace no matter how valuable I think it is in the moment.  And I blame me, for not making the blog a bigger priority over eating, sleeping, target-shooting, reading, watching TV, or the hundreds of other distractions that occupy my time.   

Liatris spicata

But then a fall morning comes, like this morning, and it's cool (53ºF) and sunny, and I'm walking with Bella down the road at 7:10 a.m., and I remember that a beautiful world awaits, every single morning, if I only take time to look.

Time to look and stop to take a quick photo of 'Hope for Humanity', pictured at the top.  There has to indeed be some hope for a species that breeds and distributes a rose this beautiful.

Time to pause on the walk and relish the beauty of this clump of Liatris spicata, returning year after year to the roadside northeast of the house.  A "blazing star" of the highest magnitude (see what I did there?).

Time to appreciate that the Kansas state flower is the native Sunflower, thriving where the ground is disturbed by hoof or man, a roadside beacon to reflect the morning sunshine.

'Morden Sunrise'

Time to fawn over the delicately hued petals of this 'Morden Sunrise', a Parkland Canadian rose bred by Lynn Collicutt and Campbell Davidson in 1991.  I have one in front, 3 feet tall and now overshadowed by a "dwarf" lilac, and this second two-year-old in back.

'Comte de Chambord'

Time to stop and "smell the roses", in this case the Portland rose 'Comte de Chambord', a reliable bloomer and cane hardy to the toughest Kansas winters.  She looks fragile and virginal and perfect, but she's touch as nails. 

And time to appreciate all the beautiful and more mobile creatures who share the morning walks with Bella and I.  For the city folk reading this blog, the behavior of the left hand male bovine at the rear of the longhorn cow may look strange, but to an old farm-boy and veterinarian, it's anything but.  That cow had just hunched up and passed urine and he's checking to see (the "Flehmen response") if this particular cow is available for some morning "go-time".   Truly, there's nothing more natural on the prairie than a little lovin' at the first rays of the sun.  

I think we'll just leave this blog entry right here, in a light and educational moment, and not veer off into the weeds of biology trying to extend it.

2024 EMG Manhattan Area Garden Tour

 Warning:   Picture heavy!

On schedule, and a little later in the year than for previous tours, the Riley County Extension Master Gardeners held their annual Manhattan Area Garden Tour yesterday (June 22nd), with 5 private homes, the 2 community garden sites, and, of course, the KSU Gardens included.   If you've read my blog before, you know already that I am the unofficial annual photographer for the event and this year is no exception.  Here, I've included my favorite two pictures from each site.  and it wasn't an easy task to choose from the over 863 pictures that I took and kept for the EMG's. 

I wasn't at first sure about the community gardens being on the list, but at least it exposed all of us to the fact that Manhattan boasts the oldest community garden in Kansas, celebrating it's 50th anniversary this year..  I was also introduced in the gardens to the shocking color combination of burnt-red daylilies and pink phlox pictured at upper right, finding to my surprise that I rather liked this jarring adjacency, even though I'd have never planted these myself.

Color and creativity abounded on the tour this year.   This artistically-oriented homeowner had a number of these stacked-glass focal spots scattered around her corner lot.  I missed my chance to ask the gardener how they were held together and how they stay upright and unbroken in our Kansas winds.

One of the continuing themes of this year's Tour seemed to be "extra living spaces", with covered or screened porches, outside private dining areas, "she-sheds" or "man-caves" at nearly every home.  I was envious of this small, detached cottage annex at this home, with a one-room, perhaps 8 foot x 8 foot cozy interior populated by a loft bed, comfy couch, writing desk, and mini-kitchenette.  Oh, the writing I dream that I could accomplish there!

The most admired plant of the day (at least admired by the native fauna who count most) was at another home, where a fantastic hot pink Monarda stood out in the landscape and attracted bumblebees all during our tour.

I had many "favorite spots" in this garden, which contained natural outcrops of huge boulders as it's backyard border, falling away 20 feet down to nearby Wildcat Creek below it, but my eye kept being drawn back to this simple grouping and the genius of this lime-green-painted milk can, darker-green hosta, and the pink impatiens nearby.

 

A repeat garden on the tour, featured previously in 2011, was this cottage house, complete with a geometric garden painstakingly laid out and inspired by a mid-1700's Williamsburg garden the owner had visited.   Because I don't show people's faces here when I can avoid it, I was careful to take advantage of this moment when it was empty for a quick photo.  Notice please, the original  Revolutionary War-era flag flying from the garage.

This same home, placed near two K-State fraternities, also had a very shaded, fenced, private courtyard between the home and detached garage for some early morning and late evening enjoyment and rest away from the boisterous college activities.

A friend and fellow veterinarian had a garden on the tour that featured, unsurprisingly, a number of cat statues, fitting for the owner's profession.  

In fact, I can't limit myself to just two pictures from this garden as there were a lot of cute focal points, including this cute little maiden peeking from behind the pink bells.

It was also in this garden that I was introduced to and coveted the fabulous sedum below and also admired one of the few blooming roses on the tour, a climber whose name I don't know.  I'm lusting for that sedum and will have to go searching for it since I'm hopeful my colleague purchased it somewhere here in town. 

 

One home featured a lovely patriotic feel in the front, with the prominent flag and a comfortable front porch decked out in red, white and blue banners like Calvin Coolidge was going to speak from it at any moment from just behind that hale and healthy hedge of huge white hydrangeas (ProfessorRoush nails a quintuple alliteration!).   

To me, the patriotic feel of this property was continued in the back of the house in this combination of these bright red salvias and red-and-white petunias.  Or maybe I'm partial to them because I chose red petunias and white petunias and red pelargoniums and red and white inpatients, and a red begonia to put in pots and beds leading to my own front door this year.   I wonder, are these color choices subconsciously influenced by the fact that it's a Presidential election year?

Well, I need to get outside to the weekly mowing so I'll finish off by showing you, first, the newly-constructed, black-granite-walled reflecting pool of the KSU gardens.  I'm told the flanking channels, which are unchlorinated and barely visible here, will be populated in the future with water lilies and other aquatic plants.

I can't leave you, however, without also adding a current photo of my beloved 'John Davis' already in its 2nd, yet still bountiful, seasonal display of floriferousness.   Another year, another successful Garden Tour witnessed by this stalwart hardy Canadian rose!

Red Roses and PinCushions

'Red Cascade'

 This week's lawn scalping, while always a chore and most especially during our "rainy season" when ProfessorRoush feels obligated to mow the entire yard at weekly intervals, had its pleasantries still as the rose are fading and other flowers come on to fill the borders with color.   Two of the "reds", vivid red roses, caught my eye particularly, one by itself ('Emily Carr') and one by contrast ('Red Cascade') with a neighboring perennial.  I use the word "contrast" lightly here because a color expert would almost certainly say that the vivid red of 'Red Cascade' and the burgundy of my Knautia macedonica 'Mars Midget' are complimentary hues, not contrasting. 

Knautia macedonica 'Mars Midget'

I apologize for the informality of their impromptu picture here, poised above some yet-to-be-opened bags of mulch, the latter keeping 'Red Cascade' from showing you its cascading river of red down the stone, but I was racing against the sun and heat and not inclined to stop the lawnmower, get off, move the bags, and rearrange 'Red Cascade' to capture it at its best.   A broader picture here also wouldn't show you any more rose, but it would reveal that the Knautia cultivar dominates my front landscape and is trying to escape by self-seeding into the buffalograss.   Sometimes the message is aided by the framing.

I've had this specimen of 'Red Cascade' since 1999, and have written of her before, but in fact she's a transplant from a previous house.  This 1976 introduction by the breeder, Ralph Moore, and his Sequoia Nursery has had ups and downs in my garden, but if I pay it only a little attention, it's an ironclad rose in my Kansas climate, cane-hardy in winter and disease-free in summer.  While the individual blooms are small and unremarkable, the overall effect is one of bounty and beauty, especially when she's at her peak.

I've also written before about 'Emily Carr',

'Emily Carr'

 but I felt I should update you on her survival and presence in my garden.  I obtained 'Emily Carr' in 2019, and she struggled for a couple of years, but now in her 5th season I can affirm her health and winter hardiness with some confidence.  She has always surprised me with her height (canes reaching 5 feet here in a summer) and with the vivid and almost non-fading scarlet of her barely semidouble blooms.  Opening to show golden stamens, the photo at the left shows those blooms in all stages, from unopened to petals falling, beautiful in all phases of her brief showiness.

'Emily Carr'

As a bush, 'Emily Carr' is lanky, and upright, healthy and robust, sending gangly canes up in a solid clump.   She requires no spraying and might exhibit a little blackspot on lower leaves in the most moist of summers.  Right now, fresh from bi-weekly two-inch rains for the past month, you can see she gets a little too much moisture in the clay cauldron of soggy soil at her feet, but she still shows only minimal damage and is returning the welcome rain in a burst of red happiness.  She's a Canadian of late introduction (2007) but a keeper in my garden.