PawPaw Possibilities

Down my eastern hillside, near the unmown prairie, I have a line of trees planted that has, through no planned vision of my own, become a sort of collection of tree oddities, at least of trees somewhat rare for Kansas.  These include a hawthorne, sourgum, bald cypress, two American persimmons planted only because my daughter likes persimmons (they're not old enough to bear fruit yet however), and a Common Pawpaw (Asimina triloba).  

The latter has had a rough life for a young tree.  It stands, right now, only about 3 feet tall, having been burnt early on in a fire and then, the next year, chewed down to a nubbin by marauding deer.  Still, it survived, and every year it puts out a few of those large, Cretaceous-era leaves to remind me that older and larger creatures once walked this earth.  And this year, imagine my surprise to see it bloom!  I didn't know Pawpaws bloomed, although any idiot amateur gardener like myself should realize that if they bear large banana-like fruit, they must bloom at some point.

PawPaw blossom

The bloom appearance, if you've never seen one, is quite unique, and I now understand the "triloba" species name, because the three-lobed calices of these flowers are quite distinctive.  These small muddy-purple flowers are thick-petaled, about the size of a dime, and would go unnoticed if you didn't look closely.  They appear, nestled next to the branch points, before the leaves have opened in the spring. Their flower faces are directed downwards and you have to practically lay on the ground to appreciate their structure (well, on a three-foot tall tree, anyway).  Look closely from a ground perspective, however, and you'll be amazed at the rich deep color of the petals and sepals, which surround a stiff wax-like receptacle and stamens.  I would recommend that you sample the fragrance of the flowers at your own risk, however, since the flowers have a musky odor that I will charitably describe here only as "yeasty."


In my ignorance about this tree, I had no intentions related to a higher environmental consciousness than hoping someday to taste its edible fruits, but in reading about the Pawpaw, I have since learned that it is the sole source of food for larvae of the Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus).  I've never seen one of these gorgeous butterflies, but as my Pawpaw grows, I'll be sure to leave any such larvae alone and to watch for the appearance of any errant migrants that make it this far west.  "If you build it, they will come" was the line from the movie Field of Dreams.  Well, maybe, just maybe, "if I grow it, they will come" works the same way for a gardener.

Clematis Interruptus



'Guernsey Cream'

If you happen to be waiting for the roses to come back onto my blog, you should indeed have faith for their return, but at present, the cooler weather has halted most of my roses in bud stage.  'Marie Bugnet' is my sole rose with most of her beauty now exposed to the world.  Poor 'Harison's Yellow' shows some bright yellow flowers, but it is still spotty and underwhelming at present.  Almost every other established bush was aroused by the warm March weather and has opened one or two buds as teasers, but the climax of the season now seems to be a little bit farther into the future than I recently anticipated.  Wait a minute? Beauty exposed? Arousal?  Climax?  Could it be that I'm a little too excited about this upcoming rose season?

In the meantime, just so that all my readers know that I occasionally grow something besides roses, allow me to present the early-blooming clematis 'Guernsey Cream', which currently brightens the path near my front door.  'Guernsey Cream' is a single clematis, with creamy white 5-inch wide blossoms and anthers, and oh, what a show it is putting on right now!  Mine is a young plant, only in it's 2nd full season and never yet pruned, although 'Guernsey Cream' belongs to pruning group 2 and should be pruned lightly only after flowering anyway.  I planted 'Guernsey Cream'  near bright scarlet clematis 'Rebecca', and although both are on separate trellises now, I hope to have them intermingle someday into a stunning display, flush with red and white early in the season and again late in August.

Clematis montana rubens 04/08/12

Clematis (Clematuses? Clemati?) are a smidgen difficult for me to grow well in Kansas (no surprise there), because of the hot summer sun and the ripping winds.  'Guernsey Cream' and 'Rebecca' are up against a wall near a house corner in my front bed, protected from two directions from wind and from the western hot afternoon sun.  I also grow, for those who are interested, blue 'Romona' and white 'Alabast'  against other house walls with north and east exposures respectively, Clematis montana rubens (left) in a more exposed position but against a low stone wall, and 'Jackmanii', a second 'Romona', and Clematis paniculata out in the open unshaded spaces of my garden.  Well those, and a couple of Clematis integrifolia in my front beds who constantly threaten to seed themselves to the western horizon.  The latter seem almost a little too well adapted to Kansas, and I don't recommend their drooping faces for most gardens.  Please note, however, that assessment hasn't stopped me from potting up and spreading their bounty to other unsuspecting local gardeners (insert evil Professor grin here).  Kansas misery loves company.

Winged Lilacs

American Lady butterfly

I was delighted, a few evenings back, to find my Korean lilac fittingly buried by gracefully-flitting brown-orange butterflies.  The lilac season in Kansas is already nearing its end, somewhat shockingly on this premature April date before they normally have even started blooming. Two different lilacs bring up the rear in my garden, the Syringa meyeri 'Dwarf Korean Lilac' pictured at the right, and the 'Josee' hybrid pictured below.

It is the Korean lilac that is the more fragrant of the two, and the American Lady butterflies (Vanessa virginiensis) were robbing it for nectar en masse, six or eight of them at a time.  The American Lady's are one of the Brush-footed butterfly families, and are of moderate size and, I would judge, merely moderate beauty as butterflies go.  I enjoy butterflies as a denizen of my garden, but I've never been as particularly fascinated or captured by them as I am, say, by rose varieties or bird species.  I've never made a concerted effort to be able to identify them on sight beyond the usual knowledge of when a butterfly might also be a swallowtail, or is instead a moth.  I can identify a Monarch, but I take no pride in that ability as I recognize that most young schoolchildren can identify Monarch butterflies due to the intense popular press the Monarch's enjoy.  Fly a few thousand miles as an extended family effort twice a year and it seems everyone thinks you're special.

My poor 'Josee' was neglected by the butterflies that evening, but I felt it was also making a special effort for my attention by showing off its subdued color hues against the variegated iris at its feet.  'Josee', as previously mentioned, may not be my most scented lilac, nor have the strongest coloration ('Yankee Doodle' has that distinction in my garden), nor does it have anything special like the picotee flowers of 'Sensation', but it does have one big advantage;  it was the first of the reblooming lilacs released and it really does, occasionally, dole out a panicle or two for my enjoyment in August.  Any lilac willing to defy its ancient nature to that degree for me will always have a place in my garden and my heart.

Ready to Burst!



'Austrian Copper'  4/10/2012

ProfessorRoush spent his lunchtime today checking in on the K-State Rose Garden, part of the Kansas State University Gardens, where he volunteers some Extension Master Gardener time.  My primary goal was to toss down some alfalfa pellets to stimulate and fertilize the roses this spring, but I was also surreptitiously checking on the early bloom of 'Austrian Copper'.

The K-State Rose Garden looks incredibly healthy this year and the roses are brimming over with buds.  It is going to explode in approximately 2 weeks time and I'm going to be in surrogate rose heaven between my own garden and this rose garden adopted by the EMG's.  The only roses blooming with any intensity in the garden yet, however, are 'Austrian Copper' (above right) and the 'Therese Bugnet' roses that surround the bronze "girl with a rose" sculpture that is at the front of the garden (below).  'Austrian Copper' is a rose I purchased at Home Depot two summers back and donated to the garden.  I had seen 'Austrian Copper' that year in Colorado and immediately purchased my own band via mail-order, only to find that Home Depot offered them in 2 gallon pots in June for the same price as the band I purchased.   Who could have predicted that would happen?   Because of the vibrant orange color and the early bloom, it never fails to draw comments from visitors to the Garden.
 
'Therese Bugnet', of course, is a stalwart rugged rose for the K-State Rose garden and envelopes the bronze statue with its furry gray-green leaves and red winter stem.  They are getting big, though, and we are soon going to have to tackle the thorny creatures to restrain their exuberance.  The modern Hybrid Teas and Floribundas in front of the statue are some of  the recent AARS awards winners, so this display is going to change its focus from background to foreground soon.  Ah, the rose year is upon us!