Excogitating Echinacea

I noticed this morning that Sherry, of  If only sweat were irrigation also blogged on echinacea, but she had the good sense and grace to stay with those echinaceas whose appearance closely resembles the appearance of my native species. 



Echinacea 'Tomato Soup'

I've been exploring, with some unease I might note, various other recently-released echinacea cultivars in my garden, and I'm starting to view the results now.  I'm prone to like the oranges and reds, but I'm not very fond of the pinks and whites and greens.  I had previously tried all white 'White Swan' several times, but I hadn't been able to overwinter it yet and it really just looks too much like a Shasta Daisy to be worth the trouble to keep trying.  My favorite, so far, is the bright orange-red 'Tomato Soup' cultivar, which is right now happily enjoying the Kansas Sun with over 20 flowers on one clump.  I must have found the right place for that one and I am planning to add some other 'Tomato Soup' plants soon, because I really love that red-orange tone.
  



Echinacea 'Aloha'

I've also tried a couple of others recently, with the yellow-tan 'Aloha' making a decent first bloom in my garden.  I like this one, just the right color to offset the blue Russian sage next to it.  I have high hopes for 'Hot Summer', but that one is a new one for me this year and it hasn't bloomed yet. 

Echinacea 'Hot Papaya'

I am, of course, very picky about the echinacea cultivars I choose.  I really can't even bear to look at many of the new cultivars that have been introduced from nurseries far and wide.  Very double "poofy" echinacea such as 'Pink Double Delight' are no delight for me and remind me of a highly manicured French poodle.  The lime green 'Green Jewel' leaves an acid taste in my mouth.  Why breeed for a green flower on an already green plant? 'Marmalade', or 'Coconut Lime'? Or 'Meringue' or 'Coral Reef'? 'Fatal Attraction' would surely be the death of me!
  Please, no more of the off-line colors, my stomach can't stand it.   I WOULD like to find an easy source for 'Tiki Torch' as I believe I could use that orange in my garden, and I will admit to trying out 'Hot Papaya' last year (pictured at right), which is as far as I'll go in trying the new doubles.  Not sure yet whether I'm very excited about this one, but I'll let it live a year or two yet.   As far as purplish 'After Midnight' goes, we'll have to see.

For the rest of us, it's important to note that most of the new Echinacea have come from only four modern breeders.  In 1968, Ronald McGregor suggested that interspecies crosses were possible, but it was Jim Ault of the Chicago Botanic Garden who put that theory into practice in the late 1990's crossing Echinacea purpurea, Echinacea paradoxa, Echinacea angustifoloia and others.  Ault is responsible for most of the breakthrough colors.  Richard Saul of Saul Nursery in Georgia created the Big Sky series with Echinacea purpurea and Echinacea paradoxa crosses.  Dan Heims of Terra Nova is hard on their heels.   Arie Blom of the Dutch nursery AB-Cultivars is responsible for many of the anemone double-flowered forms, for those who like them (I'm not in that group).

 

As for the future, who can tell.  Right now I'm content to view the explosion of new garden varieties and either turn up my nose at them or bury my nose in a new, and often fragrant, bright blossom.

My Minty Monarda



Wild Monarda fistulosa

 This is certainly the time of daylilies in the Flint Hills, but on the native prairie, it is also the time of  Monarda, specifically Monarda fistulosa, otherwise known as Wild Bergamot, in my pastures. 



Wild Bergamot is a common perennial forb of the Kansas prairie, blooming from June through August.  This 3 foot tall member of the mint family is easily identified by the characteristic square stem of the mints and by the blowsy pale pink-purple flowers that stand out from the yellow-green color of the prairie grasses in the summer. When its leaves are crushed, it also releases the fragrant essential oils we've come to associate with the mints.  Highly resistant to drought, it is an essential summer food of bees in the area. 

 

Wild Bergamot clump on the prairie

Great Plains Native Americans had many uses for this aromatic plant, from a food seasoning ingredient or perfuming their clothes to the treatment of colds and stomach ailments. They also recognized that it had strong antiseptic properties due to a substance now known as "Thymol" (now a common ingredient in mouthwash formulas) and used it as a poultice to treat skin infections and minor wounds.   There are three other Monarda species found in Kansas, Monarda citriodora (Lemon Mint), Monarda punctata (Western Spotted Beebalm), and  Monarda bradburiana (Bradbury Beebalm), but only Lemon Mint might also be found in my local area and I've never seen it.

'Jacob Cline'

Of course, most gardeners know this genus by the more colorful cultivars of Monarda didyma, otherwise know as Scarlet Monarda or Oswego tea.  The latter common name is popular because the Oswego Indians taught the American colonists how to use it for tea after the colonists had a spiteful little Boston Tea Party.  I grow several cultivars of Monarda didyma, from deeper purple-pink 'Blue Stocking' to less intense 'Prairie Knight' and also grow a bright red form that are the descendants of either 'Gardenview Scarlet' or 'Jacob Cline'.  Those two cultivars were identical to my examination from the time I planted them and I had both planted in the same general area, so now that it has spread throughout my front landscaping, I'm not sure which of my scarlet bee balms was the evolutionary winner (if not both).  'Gardenview Scarlet' is a cross of Monarda didyma X M. fistulosa that was a selection from the Chicago Botanic Gardens Plant Selection Program.  'Jacob Cline', which seems to be the more widely available and better known red cultivar, was a selection of the native Monarda didyma that is highly resistant to Monarda nemesis of powdery mildew.  I've had some trouble determining if the proper spelling of the name is 'Jacob Cline' or 'Jacob Kline', but according to Saul Nursery, which originally introduced it, the proper name is 'Jacob Cline', named for the son of Georgia garden designer Jean Cline.  I suppose they'd know.

'Blue Stocking'

As you would expect from a plant where related species grow naturally in the same area, every Monarda cultivar that I've tried has done well in my Flint Hills garden. It seems to love the full sunlight and dry late summer conditions of the summer, blooming freely and self-seeding or spreading by rhizomes over whatever garden areas I choose to give it. And I've got to tell you, I love removing last years stems in the Spring and weeding this stuff in the summer; stepping on the young plants packed so closely together releases a delectable aroma.  Monarda has a reputation in most printed sources for thriving best in moist environments, but I haven't found extra water to be necessary for established specimens.  Monarda seems to do just fine with occasional droughts, just as long as the drought does not occur in the middle of the flowering period. In fact, withholding a little moisture helps keep these cultivars from growing too tall and then sprawling about. None of the cultivars I grow seem to get mildew, and they provide me the benefits of being deer resistant and attracting bees and butterflies by the thousands. In fact, it is one of the few plant families that I can truly say I've never killed or lost a specimen I've tried.  Now that's what I call adapted to the climate!



'Jacob Cline' in my front landscaping



Belinda's Dream

As we read and learn about the EarthKind® program and its roses, sooner or later one of the roses most gardeners consider growing is the perfectly pink double rose, 'Belinda's Dream', released by Dr. Robert Basye in 1988.

'Belinda's Dream'

'Belinda's Dream' has quickly become a standard rose to compare others against for its disease resistance and low-maintenance care, but I find no reason to fault the flower either.  This very double rose (over 100 petals) has a light, clean pink bloom that combines the high-centered modern rose form with its old garden rose resistance to disease and wide soil-type tolerance.  A seedling of a cross between 'Jersey Beauty' and the incredibly fragrant Hybrid Tea 'Tiffany', 'Belinda's Dream carries her own strong and unique fragrance as well.  Resistant to blackspot, mildew, and root-node nematode, the foliage on this 3 foot tall bush is perfect throughout the season, with no spraying necessary here in Kansas, or reportedly elsewhere. Large perfect flowers are borne freely over the season, perhaps balling up a bit in cool wet spring weather, but reliably repeating on this dense-foliaged shrub.  This is one of the few shrub roses that is as useful as a cutting rose to present to Mrs. ProfessorRoush as it is for display in my garden.  If I have a complaint, it is that I would say that 'Belinda's Dream', listed in all sources as hardy in Zones 5-9, is actually just barely hardy here in Zone 5b Kansas, because both my specimens die back to the ground nearly every winter.  I'm not alone in that assessment either, since I just heard that viewpoint about hardiness repeated from a source that has observed the rose growing in Kansas City.  For that reason, I'd only recommend growing her own-root, on her own feet.

'Belinda's Dream', still blooming in October

Now, I'll admit to knowing next to nothing about rose genetics, but I'm intrigued that a cross of 'Jersey Dream', a light yellow, single-flowered Hybrid Wichurana rambler, and 'Tiffany', an exhibition style, light pink Hybrid Tea with only 25 petals, resulted in this extremely double and rapidly repeating rose of short shrub stature. The strong fragrance makes a little sense with the parentage of the James Alexander Gamble Fragrance award-winning 'Tiffany', as does the clear pink bloom color from the same parent and the disease resistance from its rambler father, but where did all the petals and the bushy stature come from?

'Basye's Purple Rose'

There are, for your interest, only four other officially released Basye-bred cultivars ('Basye's Legacy', 'Basye's Purple Rose', 'Basye's Myrrh Scented Rose', and 'Basye's Blueberry Rose') from which I would conclude that Dr. Basye was very choosy about the roses he released.   I also grow 'Basye's Purple', another disease-free rose in Kansas and a uniquely-colored one.  We may not have seen the end of Dr. Basye's rose bloodlines, though, because his rose collection was donated to Texas A&M after his death in 2000 and is being merged with the breeding stock of famed hybridizer Ralph Moore, also donated after the latter's death in 2008, as part of the AgriLife program of Texas A&M.

Many roses have an interesting history, but 'Belinda's Dream' has a story better than most and I believe there is a lesson in her creation. 'Belinda's Dream' was the result of a lifelong hobby of the late Dr.Basye, a mathematician at Texas A&M University.  Dr. Basye was searching to combine disease resistance, drought tolerance, and thornlessness with modern bloom form, and folklore has it that he almost didn't release 'Belinda's Dream', which he named for a friend's daughter, because it wasn't thornless enough.  I believe that the lesson in this rose, bred in Caldwell Texas and the first to be awarded EarthKind®and Texas Superstar status (both in 2002), is that it provides a convincing example of how important it is for hybridizers to breed and select roses in the exact geographic region where the rose is targeted to be grown and marketed. A similar example of this principle is that the late Dr. Griffith Buck's rose breeding program in Iowa provided us with many roses of the same disease-free characteristics and better hardiness for the MidWest region.  Perhaps a rose-breeding motto, "Know the Region, Know the Roses" should become the mantra for hybridizers of the next century.

Broken Dreams

This isn't the blog I had intended for today, but blogging gardeners often grasp clear moments of illustration when they occur.  I've written previously about the ephemeral, fickle nature of good weather in Kansas, and this morning I have proof for the skeptical.  So, through the blur of my tears, I present to you the tallest (5 foot tall) of the 'Yellow Dream' Oriental Lilies that I blogged about yesterday, now staked and tied to an old broom handle.

You see, last night at approximately 8:30 p.m., a north wind suddenly rose frantically outside the house; dead calm one minute, and then 50 or 60 mph gusts the next, stirring the dust off the top gravel road and rattling the windows.  I took a step out our west door to look around and about got clobbered by a flying shingle off the roof.  We were on the west edge of a storm that was heading south; just close enough to catch the wind, but very little of the rain.  This morning I woke up to inspect the damage and found the sole victim was this lily, the one inch thick stalk bent over at a 90 degree angle 3 inches above the ground.  On the picture below, the entire plant is circled in white and the bent portion of the stem circled in red (the dry leaves at the right of the picture are a blueberry that got crisped in last week's three digit heat). This kind of catastrophe certainly wasn't worth trading for 0.2 inches of rain, even in this dry summer season.

I don't know if it this 'Yellow Dream' will live to open another flower or not. Or if not, if the bulb will survive with all its energy already expended into all these beautiful flowers.  I know only that it serves as a perfect example of what often happens to the largest, fastest growing plants of my landscape.  The sisters of this flower nearby were shorter and better protected by the surrounding plants so perhaps the lesson here is that in moderate growth lies survival.  Or perhaps the lesson is that this lily should have picked a better gardener, one who anticipated the storm and staked it ahead of time.  I should have known better.  I don't think that I lost any new basal rose canes from this storm, but I've learned, as stated before, to keep them pinched back to thicken them as they grow.

So, for this year at least, seeing this 'Yellow Dream' in full glorious display will remain just a dream.