Lessons Learned from Lupines

     I first fell in love with lupines on a trip to Maine, where the plants seemed to be growing without effort. I think what attracts me is their stature, and the upright drama they add to the garden. For the same reasons I am similarly attracted to other tall flowers, such as Digitalis, hollyhocks, and Verbasum. But for me there is something else about lupines that I can't quite put my finger on, perhaps it has something to do with symmetry and uniformity. When I first began gardening I couldn't find any lupines for sale in local nurseries, and more than one nursery person told me this perennial wouldn't grow here, that it was just too hot. A little research confirmed my disappointment, and I begrudgingly resolved to admire them from afar. Years later, I saw them again, only this time coming up through cracks in the pavement during a trip to Grand Lake, Colorado, and I just haven't been able to let go.

     In the fall of 2012, some co-workers and I attended a lecture by Lisa Ziegler, a nearby wholesale cut flower grower. The gist of her talk was how she sows seeds for cool climate flowers in the fall to harvest fresh cut flowers in the spring. Her lecture inspired us to try some of the annuals that love that cool shoulder-season between late winter and early summer. Among other things we decided to try lupines as annuals, rather than perennials. Though I was dubious, I found an inexpensive source for Lupinus polyphyllus seeds and gave them to the propagator at work. They were sown in early autumn of last year, quickly made size, and were planted-out in late October/early November, about the same time as the pansies were planted. Being hardy to at least zone 4, I knew they would survive our winter, and indeed, their foliage remained pristine and attractive, even through one of the worst winters in many years. Perhaps that cold weather was what they liked, because by early May it was apparent we were in for a spectacular show.

So this is what I learned, but not necessarily about lupines:

• While it is good to listen to the voice of experience, there is more than one voice.
• Don't be afraid to try something new, especially if it can be defined or framed in a new way (from perennial to annual), or if your investment is small ($2.49 for a pack of seeds).
• Look close to home. There are over 80 Lupinus species, and from one of the native plant experts at work, I was surprised to learn that L. perennis is native here in southeastern Virginia, and is tolerant of our hot and humid summers.
• Be careful what you wish for, as what you covet may be someone else's bane. Ask gardeners in New Zealand or Scandinavia what they think of L. polyphyllus.

Still Life with Asarum

I was able to spend both days this past weekend working in enjoying my garden and getting it ready for spring. While down on my knees pulling out fallen leaves, I noticed the Asarum splendens was in bloom, and on one's knees is the only way to see them. Hidden below the foliage, their bizarre waxy flowers seem to be something pushed out from the underworld.  I am assuming ants or beetles must be the pollinators, or perhaps the dark lord himself.

The plant's common name is Chinese wild ginger, and I bought it not for the flowers, but for its splendid dark green, mottled with silver, foliage.  Only getting about 6" high, A. splendens acts as a groundcover in shady areas, and in my climate it remains evergreen. It is hardy in zones (5)6 to 9, spreads quickly and is very easy to grow, but during times of drought you will want to throw a little extra water on it.



(BTW, it is not too late to enter this year's Winter Walk-Off.  I am taking entries until midnight March 19th.)

U.S. Botanic Garden

The first stop on our D.C. day trip was the United States Botanic Garden.  I think this was my fourth time there, and it has always been one of my favorite places in the city to visit, even before I knew much about plants.  Sitting in the shadow of Capitol Hill, it has always seemed pleasantly out of place with what surrounds it.  As we were walking towards the front entrance, I noticed one of the gardeners grooming the brown foliage from some yucca plants, apparently not bothered by the rain and wet snow. As soon as we entered I knew why she was out in the cold, because there simply would have been no room for her to work inside.  Though it was not as crowded as some of the other places we were to visit, it was still thick with people.

Clerodendron splendens (Flaming Glorybower)

Aphelandra aurantiaca ( Fiery Spike) 

Dichorisandra thyrsiflora (Blue Ginger)

 

Aloe and Pachypodium

Cleistocactus winteri (Golden Rat Tail)

 

The Hawaii Room

Zamia fairchildiana

Encephalarlos longifolius

If you ever find yourself in Washington, and need suggestions on what to see, I highly recommend the U.S. Botanic Gardens.  It is very easy to find, you can see all of it before your non-gardening companions lose interest, and it offers a breath of sanity sorely needed just a few hundred yards away and up The Hill.

A Plant Geek in South Florida - Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden Part II, Fruit, Flowers and Freaks

Although I was totally amazed by the trees at Fairchild, there were many other items fighting for my attention.

I am not sure which banana this was, but I loved its flower.

As you might expect there were also many bromeliads.

The plant combo above was part of a much larger landscape, looked over by tall Bismarkii nobilis.

Flame Violet (Episcia cupreata)

Japanese Lantern (Hibiscus schizopetalus)

Plumeria

Gold Finger Plant (Juanulloa aurantica)

Cannonball Tree (Couroupita guianensis)

This waterlily had good company in the form of some Chihuly sculpture.

One of my favorite parts of Fairchild was the Madagascar garden. The thorny trunks on the left belong to Pachypodium lamerei.

I am not sure what this was lying on the floor of the rainforest garden.

Wax Jambu (Syzygium samarangense)

The size of jackfruit (Artocarpus heterophyllus) would make any man tree feel proud.

African rainbow lizards were all over the garden, and they are also starting to show up on Florida's ever-increasing invasive species list.

This will end our visit to Fairchild Gardens, but if you would like to see more photos click here for my complete set. 

Up next from Florida, I enter a world far more foreign and exotic to me than any tropical garden - I go to a shopping mall.

A Plant Geek in South Florida - Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden Pt. I, Trees

When planning our trip to Florida the one place I wanted to see more than any other was Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden.  While visiting their website to get particulars, I noticed they were offering free admission on the first Wednesday of each month this summer, including July 4th, so there was no doubt as to where I would spend my Independence Day.  If you want to know more about Fairchild, I suggest you visit their website where their story is certainly told better.  However, I would just like to say that if you ever find yourself in the vicinity of Miami, you must go, this is more than a pretty garden, it is a world class facility.

Let's descend the steps at the visitor's center and enter the garden.

Being a tree person, I was immediately impressed with rainbow eucalyptus (Eucalyptus deglupta). It has bark that can make men weep.

There were many Ficus in the garden. This Ficus racemosa was part of an art installation from Yoko Ono, one of her Wish Trees. We also saw one a couple of years ago at MOMA in New York. It is hard to tell from the photo, but the diameter of this trunk was easily 10'.

Ficus subcordata

This ponytail palm (Beaucarnea recurvata) is not technically a palm, and may not even be a tree, but it was spectacular.

I could not find out what tree this was, but I love the womanly trunk flare.
* (Thanks to Barry for the subsequent ID of Pachira aquatica.)

Care to climb the silk floss tree (Ceiba speciosa)?

As one would expect, Fairchild has a fantastic palm collection, and if I was British I'd say it left me gobsmacked. Since I am not a Brit, and it was July 4th, here is a photo appropriate for the day.

Copernicia macroglossa, pettycoat palm

These are Bailey palms from Cuba (Copernica baileyana). They looked to be made of concrete, and I could imagine planting of line of them to resemble a colonnade.

I didn't get the name of these palms, but liked how they were underplanted with Philodendron.

The trees pictured below are Haitian oil palms (Attalea crassispatha). In the ecological nightmare that is Haiti they are extinct, and these 15 are the last ones left in the world.

We will end with yet another shot of the plant geek and his Bismarckii nobilis.

We will continue our Fairchild tour in the next post with a bit more color.