Fast Times on the Prairie

Things are happening incredibly fast in the garden right now.  The cool temperatures of the past few weeks followed by the 80's and 90's of the past 5 days seems to be condensing the spring blooming season, along with throwing off the timing I expect.  The peonies, irises, and roses all look like they are going to hit peak bloom at the same time and I may quite possibly float away on the essence of colorful paradise I'm going to have by next week.

Rosa 'Jeri Jennings'

But, today seems to be a day for first things and I wanted to show two prize new plants that are blooming for the first time in my garden.  The first of the Rogue Valley roses that I planted last fall has opened, if just barely, and I present, for your pleasure, 'Jeri Jennings', a beautiful Hybrid Musk rose bred by Paul Barden in 2007.  She survived an unusually harsh Zone 5 winter and looks healthy, if small.  I absolutely love the yellow-orange tones that are reminiscent to me of 'Alchymist'.  I haven't yet sampled her fabled scent, but I'll put nose to ground soon and check that out as well.

Peony 'Prairie Moon'

Last year, I spent months eyeing a herbaceous peony at a local nursery, and finally surrendered my yearnings to what I initially thought was a high price and purchased and planted it.  'Prairie Moon'. a 1959 cross of  P. ‘Laura Magnuson’ x P. ‘Archangel’ is not a new peony to commerce, but it is new to my garden.  This thing was blooming its head off last year when I first saw it and the creamy single blooms lit up the area of the garden center, standing out from the other peonies there.  Both because of the "prairie" in its name, the spectacular display, and the fact that it was introduced in 1959, the year of my birth, made it a no-brainer for my garden.  And here it is, blooming now for about 5 days, the first of the peonies (other than species P. tenuifolia) to show up in my garden.

Peony 'Scarlet O'Hara'

A final welcome visitor, however, is the large single peony 'Scarlet O'Hara', who opened for the first time this morning, although it is her second year blooming in my garden.  Gaze on that intricate yellow center for a moment, carpels and pink-tipped stigma, accented by the large scarlet petals, and I promise you, you can get lost in the bloom.  The picture at right doesn't do justice to the fact that the blooms are as big as your hand, and they're on a tall, 3-foot peony, so the garden display of this peony when it gets going is unequaled.

Fare well all, Bliss is soon to come. 

Miss-Timing

Rosa 'J P Connell'

Yes, to my frequent readers, I know it's been several days since I blogged.  I could offer a number of reasons; I've been sick (true), tired (true), and my gardening chores are behind (true). 

 

But, in truth, I've been waiting for 'Harison's Yellow' to bloom.  As I noted almost a week ago, 'Marie Bugnet' had begun to bloom and 'Harison's Yellow' has always been next.  But it didn't bloom.  And didn't bloom.  Perhaps because of the (almost) frost last Monday night?  The cold high 40's and 50's of the past two weeks?  Canadian 'J. P. Connell' became the next of my roses to bloom a few days ago, not altogether unusual since it is another early one and planted near some stone on a south slope, but a little odd.  And then came 'Morden Centennial', although the pictured bloom is not its best effort, and 'Hope for Humanity', a little blurry in the picture because of the 20 mph wind.  Both are decidedly odd because they normally bloom with the main flush of roses.

Rosa 'Morden Centennial'

Rosa 'Hope for Humanity'

Hemerocallis 'Chicago Flapper'

 And then, came this thing;  what the heck is a daylily doing blooming in Kansas before most of the roses?  And if I were to predict one to bloom early, it would have been 'Black-eyed Stella' or intrepid 'Stella de Oro', not 'Chicago Flapper' as pictured here.  If this is a microclimate thing it is still a one-time occurrence;  this daylily is at least a month early for Kansas, I think.  Has the world gone mad?

Rosa 'Harison's Yellow'....at last

Well, at least today, on a 91F day, after highs in the mid-80's yesterday and 2 hailstorms on Friday night, 'Harison's Yellow' finally opened a bloom and brightened Mother's Day with a cheery yellow face.  And I'm feeling better and two days of weekend warm weather have allowed me to catch up a little in the garden.

I just wish I didn't feel like this stinky little bloom was laughing at me for predicting the Apocalypse had arrived based on its reticence to bloom.

Tulipo-Ex-Mania

Tulipa clusiana

I've read about tulips.  I've read extensively about tulips, from the excellent The Tulip by Anna Pavord to the enchanting Tulipomania of Mike Dash.  The former is a dry comprehensive history of the tulip, and the latter an engaging and very readable tale focusing on the boom and bust of the Dutch trade in tulips in the 1630's.  Neither of these books taught me very much, however, about actually growing tulips, nor have the multitude of texts available that focus on bulb gardening.  Writers that take up the topic of gardening with various bulbs all describe the same practices.  Prepare a nice bed.  Add a little bone meal to the base of the bed.  Toss the bulbs in the air so they'll land with random spacing and plant them where they lay, several bulb-lengths below the surface.  Water.  Let the foliage die back naturally to allow full nourishment of the growing bulb.  Oh, and if you're in an area where varmints like to remove them (squirrels, rodents, etc.) encase the bulbs in a wire cage during planting.

You either have to search deep or learn by experience to get the important information.  The most important tidbits to learn about tulips are first that  big, beautiful, Dutch tulips are annuals, not perennials, in most of the Continental US.  Accept it, face it, and just plan, if you must have tulips, for annual purchase of next year's flowers.   If you search for them, there are species tulips out there who actually return more reliably.  Oh, and most importantly, if you really add bone meal to the bottom of the planting bed, every dog in the neighborhood will think your bed has become the resting place for their last hidden bone and will then compete in a contest to see who can dig up the most bulbs.  I once planted 50 nice bright red Darwin tulips in a raised bed, only to see every one of them excavated overnight by a neighbor's hunting dogs.  The resident deer were very appreciative of the dogs' efforts and added to the carnage by partially consuming or damaging most of the bulbs before I could replant them.  It seems that deer can't eat a whole tulip bulb, but they like to taste each one before moving on.

I've tried to satisfy the desires of the loving Mrs. ProfessorRoush in this regard, She Who Adores Tulips, but, like many other critical spousal tasks, I've failed again and again.  Last year's patch of 75 tulips yielded but a single sad tulip this year, its singular beauty not quite the same as the previous mass effect.  Actually about 6 tulips put up some foliage, but 5 were plucked out of the ground or chewed off at ground level by deer before flowering.  Kansas itself conspires to defeat my tulipiflorious efforts as well, because the Spring winds often tear an unprotected tulip to shreds before it can open. The Wicked Witch of the West is still writing in the sky, but it's not "Surrender, Dorothy", it is "Surrender, Tulips."

After many years however, I can recommend a singular exception to the wanton, unsustainable annual tulip consumption.  I've tried a number of species type tulips, and I still have hopes for some surviving stragglers of Tulipa hageri 'Little Beauty', but Tulipa clusiana seems to be the survivor for Kansas.  About eight years back, I obtained Tulipa clusiana 'chrysantha' through a mail-order whim and the small clump has expanded and thrived unaided.  Tulipa clusiana, also known as the "Lady Tulip" or "Persian Tulip" or "Candlestick Tulip" is a low-growing species tulip native to areas of the Middle East, although some references suggest that it is really native to Spain.  Regardless of origin, it seems to be unique in enjoying the dry Kansas summers.  I essentially forget they even exist each year until they bloom again, but they manage quite well on their own. The creamy butter yellow centers of this variety are surrounded by soft red exteriors that form long narrow buds. Only 8-10 inches high, these beauties don't scream for attention, but I appreciate their quiet addition to the garden more every year. Other, brighter varieties are available, from bright yellow 'Tubergen's Gem' to red-striped 'Candy Cane', but I find the native species sufficient to keep the spousal demands for tulips within reason. 

 It helps to have a spouse who is willing to compromise and accept a daffodil-growing spouse as a poor substitute for a real (Tulip-capable) gardener.