(White) Blackberry Dreams

Long time readers of this blog will remember my ramblings last fall on the history of Burbank's White Blackberry, and also recall my quest to find a surviving specimen of this once world-famous wonder.

Well, I'm pleased to show you that, thanks to a generous benefactor, Burbank's White Blackberry now grows in my garden.  Last fall, I received 6 cane runners in the mail and needless to say, I treated them like gold.  Hedging my bets, I planted the two strongest canes outside in the main garden, put two weaker ones in another more protected spot, and tried growing the remaining two in a sunny window through the winter.  Only the two that were strongest survived, but those two are one more that I needed to get the strain going here.  I can taste those delicious berries already, even though the floracanes won't be mature till next year. 

They already look different than my other blackberries.  Pictured in September at the top right, and early this spring at the lower left, they are healthy, but still look different.   They are shorter than my non-thorny cultivars, a lighter green and a bit less glossy on the leaf surface.  But most of all, the canes, in cross section, are star-shaped rather than round.  Odd, but who knows what the actual breeding of this darling entailed?  Luther Burbank was always bit lax on public disclosure of his methods.

The kind gentleman who provided the rooted cuttings must remain anonymous because I don't want him deluged.  Deluged, that is, by the hundreds of requests that I anticipate will come from all over next summer when I show you my fabulous white berries.  But I will, here and ever after, acknowledge my debt to his generosity and say Thank You, in public.  They survived my meager care, buddy, and now grow again in the Flint Hills.

TGIA (Thank God It's Autumn)

'Touch of Class'

Until this weekend, I had nearly forgotten the blessings of Autumn here in my Flint Hills garden. There are fewer roses in the garden as the temperatures drop at night, to be sure, but the roses that make it to bloom ahead of the coming winter are often of perfect form and are much less likely than the roses of Spring to be damaged quickly by the prevailing prairie winds.  This 'Touch of Class' is as close as I ever see to a rose show quality bloom.

'Prairie Harvest'

The colors and hues of roses are spectacular and sometimes different in the Fall here!  I don't see the pink blush on the petals of this 'Prairie Harvest' from buds that pre-bake in the summer heat, and I believe the demure tint added to the normal light yellow increases the allure of this rose.

'Lavande'

The lavenders can often be deeper and bolder toned at this time in the fall.  This is 'Lavande', a floribunda that I purchased cheap from a local and now out-of-business discount box store many years ago.  I suspected at the time that I was just buying a mislabeled 'Angel Face', but there really is a 'Lavande', a florists rose, bred in Canada by Bruce Rennie.

'Granada'

'Granada' shows off its bi-color blooms and its scent here when the summer sun doesn't roast it into submission within hours.  This rose is one of Mrs. ProfessorRoush's favorites.  I can take it or leave it, personally.

Have you noticed that "orange roses" actually really look a little orange as Halloween closes in?  This miniature rose, whose name I've long forgotten, always picks October to remind me that it still deserves a place in my garden.

Viva La Autumn!

IoBelle Idolation

'Iobelle'

 Autumn seems to be "Go Time" for one of my newer Griffith Buck roses.  Right now Hybrid Tea 'Iobelle' is loaded with buds and starting to bloom in a captivating pink and white mixture. How's this one for gorgeous?

'IoBelle' was a very early release by Dr. Buck, clear back during the Kennedy administration in 1962.  I've seen the rose referred to as "Iowa Belle", but the Iowa State Website says 'Iobelle' and so I shall call it here.  The Iowa State Website doesn't say much else about the rose, so that site isn't very helpful in terms of the bloom or the height and spread of this rose.   The Cherry Capital Rose Society website noted that some consider it to be tender and persnickety, but go on to say that those attributes don't hold true in Zone 4 Michigan, where the rose is fully hardy and vigorous.  Oddly HelpMeFind lists the rose as hardy to USDA 7B and warmer, but that statement is just flat out wrong.  It is frustrating when a good rose gets bad press, isn't it?

Here, in the Flint Hills, 'Iobelle' is pushing up to 2.5 feet tall at the end of one year of age.  A few brief mentions of the rose state that he mature height is 3 to 5 feet tall, so I don't think I've seen the end of the growth yet.  The blooms are large, fully double (17-25 petals), and thick-petalled.  One thing I really like about this rose is that every flower is unique; the amount of pink in the bloom seems to vary with the number of sunny days in bud and the age of the flower, with more pink in older flowers.  Another "like" about this rose is that this is truly a Hybrid Tea flower form, and, unlike many of the Buck Roses, the rose holds up well in the vase without showing undue haste to fully open..  I recently gave a perfect bud to Mrs. ProfessorRoush  and it stayed tightly cupped for 4-5 days in the house.  The scent is moderately strong.  It is said to be "fruity" but my undiscriminating nose can only say that it is pleasant.  The foliage is blackspot free, dark green, and healthy here at mid-Fall.  The pictured bloom at the left is a little wind-beaten due to some thirty mph winds last week, but other than some shredding of the outer petals, it seems to be holding it's own.

'Iobelle' was a cross of pink Grandiflora 'Dean Collins' with the famous Hybrid Tea 'Peace'.  I didn't know that before, or I would have planted it closer to Brownell's 'Charlotte Brownell', another hardy 'Peace' offspring, for comparison.  And if I haven't enticed you enough with this rose yet, I'll leave you with the knowledge that this is an almost thornless rose for those who search out those varieties.   This one is destined to become a star in my garden.  It has already won me some big brownie points with Mrs. ProfessorRoush.

Asters Abounding

Here in Autumn, another advantage of my lassez-faire approach to mowing my prairie grass lawn this summer is now visible.  Despite this summer's record temperatures and drought, colonies of native asters have now made their presence known as the grass begins to brown.

Aromatic Aster

The asters that grow here in the Flint Hills are all fairly short so sometimes you have to look for them carefully, but they often occur in clumps with enough numbers to stand out.  There are a number of asters native to my area, so exact identification can be a challenge.  I think the prettiest aster in my "yard" is an Aromatic Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium), a 6-18 inch tall bloomer of bluish-purple that likes to play hide and seek in the taller grass.  One of the identifying characteristics of this species is that the yellow disk florets age to reddish tones, evident in the picture at the right.  It arises in groups from creeping rhizomes and often is found with Silky Aster (Symphyotrichum sericeum), but can be distinguish from the latter by the lack of silky hairs on the leaves of the Aromatic Aster.

Heath Aster

Much more common in the Flint Hills, but a little more boring from a distance, is the Heath Aster, (Symphyotrichum ericoides) a white aster that is the most common native aster in Kansas.  It grows a little taller than the Aromatic Aster, from 1 to 3 feet high, and so the white flowers can be seen easier above the native grasses.  According to written descriptions, the Heath Aster is very drought tolerant and has roots that descend 3-8 feet down into the prairie soil.  Just think about that;  eight feet down through chipped rock and clay would indeed be a pretty decent protection against drought.  It grows in colonies as depicted below and it is said to accumulate selenium from the soil, so its presence decreases hay quality in cow pastures.

Heath Aster colony

So, in its first year, my "unmowing" has resulted in some nice stands of Black-eyed Susan's and Asters, and the occasional Monarda sp, Asclepius sp, Blue Sage, Goldenrod, and Thistle.  Not a fabulous world-shattering display, as a gardener might like, but acceptable, and I hope that some of the mature seed heads take root and spread next year.  I picked a great year to try it because the unmowed strips on the hillsides probably helped preserve what little moisture did fall this year, acting as "rain gardens" in my greater yard to slow down and collect runoff.  All of that, of course is secondary to the fact that Mrs. ProfessorRoush has not said much about the unmowed patches for awhile, a change that I take for reluctant acceptance of such ecological experimentation carried out by her odd but endearing gardening husband.