So white isn't a color, eh?

Dictamnus albus

I have complained before about certain people who claim white is not a color...if it's not a color, prithee? What the mucked muck is it? What color can stand out so clearly in half-light, as the gas plant does above, and yet glow in the backlight as the same plant does below.


Same thing...backlit

Taken at a different time, but the same plant from a slightly different angle: I never cease to be amazed at how light in our bright climate changes the looks of plants..

Tanacetum praeteritium

Does the world really need another white daisy? Of COURSE it does--especially if it has gorgeous white foliage and is extremely xeric (this one is planting at Jan's home hell strips where it almost never gets water)...

Clematis integrifolia 'Mongolian Bells'

I keep buying Mongolian bells, hoping I'll get one of the bright pink or white forms--but my garden is full of the common lavender purple form. Which I do love. I suppose I should wait and buy one in bloom...The flower color and texture are so vivid on this--like marble or some luscious vanilla dessert.



Eremostachys laciniata and Orlaya grandiflora below

Here's a white duo: this is the second year of bloom on the Eremostachys--a wonderful Salvia cousin that likes to dry out a bit after blooming. I love that strange genus, many of which I've seen growing wild in Kazakhstan (and one of those has grown in cultivation and is spectacularly showy in a local nursery right now....not naming names)...





Orlaya grandiflora

 

 

The Orlaya came to me from Perennial Favorites, a wonderful nursery in Rye, Colorado, which often grows strange and wonderful plants as well as garden classics. Two or three plants the first year have now spread from seed (it's an annual) to a sizeable patch that blooms for a very long time. This is a highlight of this time of year--and another wonderful white for your twilight garden.

 

By the quote"white is not a color" was years ago, from my ex-wife, Gwen Moore, whose garden I toured this morning. It had plenty of white roses, by the way (which I didn't point out, exercising great wisdom and tact). Next, let's work on Pat Hayward, CEO of Plant Select: every time I suggest a white flower for the program she rolls her eyes operatically and groans "isn't there a blue, red or orange one like that?"



A tale of West Ridge: eleven years of transformation

Westridge this June 8, 2013

 All gardeners know that gardens aren't about just plants or vistas. They are about process. We all have a vision and a dream: we strive to achieve that ever receding goal--and in the interim, the  kaleidoscopic, prismatic patters of the garden achieve their own sort of perfection. Which we never note at the time, but if you take some pictures you might be surprised....I took the picture above yesterday--not long after dawn. The mottled light seemed to light up the various native wildflowers in a way I have seen them lit when traveling the wild. This year the fall and winter were dryish, but March through May were much wetter than they have been for years. It might be instructive to compare this year's exravaganza with the same slope on previous years going back to nearly its first year as a garden.


Westeridge June 2012

Last year was the year of the prairie daisy (Erigeron divergens): if it hadn't been for our ubiquitous native annual this garden would have been dull indeed. The penstemons hardy bloomed, although the buckwheat (Eriogonum umbellatum v. aureum) always do their thing. Last year April and May were virtually snowless and we had only a few drizzles. Dryland plants obviously appreciate spring moisture.


Westridge June 2005

I have not checked the weather records from 2005--but I suspect that there must have been good spring moisture then. In fact--I'm really surprised at how similar the penstemons and buckwheats performed back then to this spring. I shall have to see if I can find a similarly bright, overcast day this June to try and replicate the picture...there are some significant differences that are not readily apparent: this garden is nowadays FULL of cacti--one of which you can make out if you look carefully in the first picture. They will become more and more conspicuous with time...



Westridge 2002

Two shots from the earliest years--not long after it was planted. The Penstemon pseudospecabilis has yet to hybridize with P. palmeri and produce the range of magenta shades it has today. These are the only penstemons that have persisted and even proliferated from the early years. The others have diminished and disappeared. Everything is discretely planted in distinct drifts, as opposed to the truly natural patterns nowadays (when plants have planted themselves)...



Westridge June 2002 (further away)

The early years were magical: we call them the honeymoon years of a garden when weeds have yet to proliferate and everything grows lustily. But there is a different sort of satisfaction when conifers gain size and heft and plants make themselves at home. That evolution is really what makes gardening unique in human endeavors.

B.C. (more ancient scans)

Babiana truncata near Middelpos

Typical habitat for babianas is in crevices where their namesake baboons can't get at the bulbs. This was high enough in altitude that there would be hope of hardiness. But there was no seed, of course!



Babiana truncata closeup



Bryomorphe aretioides

Not exactly a Walmart plant (thank Heavens), this tufted Gnaphalinae is restricted to high altitudes in the Western Cape mountains--growing in the unforgiving quartzite as a chasmophyte. Too early for the flowers (which are as modest as the foliage tufts) I'm curious if this has ever been cultivated. A wonderful memento of a magical day with David McDonald, an ecologist and wonderful friend from Cape Town.


Bulbinella elegans

More memories of the Roggeveld: why is this plant not in my garden? I am sure it will be hardy...and judging by the closeup, it obviously would tolerate some watering...so much remains to be collected in the wild world of plants (before we turn everything into shopping malls: it's a race).



Bulbinella elegans

Calceolaria lanceolata Laguna del Maule

Very few spots on earth can match the extraordinary density of wonderful plants that I encountered in the Maule valley. I hope the Heavens will be kind enough to let me return one day. The Calceolaria was just one example. There was much, much more.



Campanula alpestris

Somewhere I have another picture which is just solid with flowers--but this shows its habit better. What a marvelous plant! For a while I thought it would be a weed. I was wrong.


Campanula hagielia

I have not yet scanned the amazing pictures of this in the garden--which look like wedding cakes in wooly rosette, studded with huge pale blue chalices for months at a time. And it was perennial! (Not long lived, mind you, but it did bloom and rebloom at least twice before expiring). And it produced buckets of seed. Probably my #1 Campanula--which is saying a lot--here growing in "Nature"--in crevices of the ruins at Ephesos.



Campanula hawkinsiana

I have managed to grow this several times. And lose it several times. From serpentine screes in Greece: I have managed to tame and probably keep Rosularia serpentinica, from similar screes in Turkey--so perhaps we can do the same with this gem of a bellflower.



Campanula macrantha

We grew this monster for years--the largest perennial campanula I believe. I loved it and miss it (it's been gone for at least a decade). But I have proof that we had it (and BOY, did we!--that's almost 6' tall!)...


Campanula mollis

A trophy from a trip to Spain in October, 2001, in Andalucía. We grew this in the garden, but it did not persist.


Campanula rupicola

My first attempt at growing the gem of Mt. Parnassus.


Campanula rupicola

It came back several years with a vengeance: I'd work harder at keeping this if I got it again--it's one of the best of the chasmophyte group because of its compactness and perenniality.



Campanula sartori

One of the tiniest of Mediterranean chasmophytes: this self sowed for me for years.



Campanula takesimana

This extravagant Korean monstrosity I photographed in the Pacific Northwest turned out to be reliably perennial for us, and not nearly as weedy as its close relation, C. punctata. Never photographed our plants--and we no longer have it. Oh well...that's why you take pix!



Campanula tubulosa

Another of the endlessly variable (within narrow parameters, I demur) Mediterranean chasmophytes. I had this for many years in my old garden. It must have produced seed. Nowadays our incredible staff at the Gardens would have turned this into thousands of plants. Like the endless variations in the concerti of Vivaldi, the subtle differences between the dozens if not hundreds of Mediterranean campanulas appeals to certain recondite minds.



Campanula waldsteiniana

I have seen pictures of this filling big pans in English Alpine shows in the most ostentatious way. I know it sounds like sour grapes, but I prefer a happy tuft in the garden. Those grapes are very sour.


Carduncellus pinnatus in bud

I terrify visitors with my taste for thistles. And this one is undeniably thistly and prickly to boot. It is also very slow growing, propagates with reluctance and sets few seed. It is definitely not a weed.



Carduncellus pinnatus

And when it blooms it's enchanting. Another gem from Morocco (where I would love to visit)...



Centaurea drabifolia

For a while the Czechs were collecting all manner of subspecies of this taxon. I grew several and enjoyed them for a long time.



Centaurea ruthenica

I recall many years ago--probably half a century--when Pam Harper visited our Garden the ONLY plant she seemed to be transfixed with was this. She took picture after picture of it (and almost nothing else). We had it growing superbly on this slope for twenty years or more--then one year it was gone. Jelitto sells it pretty reasonably: I must order it again (and I saw it in Kazakhstan--a pretty a picture in the wild as in the garden)...

Centaurea ruthenica closeup

More pictures of this scrumptious thing...

Centaurea ruthenica

The foliage is incredibly leathery to the touch and firm--I love it as much for that as just the flowers...

Cephalaria tatarica and Swallowtail

I know, I know: Cephalaria is a horrible self seeder, and growing as it does to 10' tall and across, it's not for the intimate garden. But few plants attract so many butterflies...



Chaenactis alpina

This small genus of tufted plants with strange flowers has produced several "keepers": this is my favorite one--abundant in the high Rockies in the right spot.



Chamaelirion luteum

This throve for me for years, and slowly faded away. It would be fun to try this uncommon eastern woodland plant again...



Chamaerhodos mongolica

Very close to potentilla, these little shrubs are a delightful addition--although they fade away as well. We have a native Chamaerhodos which is biennial and rather homely. I found its biennial cousin in Central Asia too--but left the seed behind on that one. We want this shrubby perennial instead!



Chasmatophyllum musculinum

One of the longest blooming plants I've ever grown. Just realized my plants faded away. Time to get more!



Cheilanthes eatonii

Otherwise restricted to the southeast corner of the state, I was thrilled to find this in Clear Creek Canyon--one of the loveliest of our desert ferns--I was standing on the very spot I found a rattlesnake on another occasion (good story that one...)



Cheilanthes eatonii

Here it is in Southeastern Colorado. I must grow this one from spore one day.

Cheilanthes marantae

What a treat it was to find its cousin growing in Western Turkey--I took this picture almost exactly 20 years ago this past month. How time flies when you're having fun!

Thank you, Ann Frazier, for unlocking transparencies from my past so crisply and letting me share them with the plant nerds of the world...

Blast from the Past: the why of scanning slides

Acaena inermis v. purpurea

 In one of his classic books, Geoffrey Charlesworth says that it doesn't matter if you've grown a plant--what matters is that you have taken a picture to PROVE that you've grown the plant! Well--the same can be said of plants you have seen. Or photographed elsewhere. Ann Frazier, a volunteer at Denver Botanic Gardens, has meticulously scanned some images I took years ago on transparencies: I thought I might be fun to post some of these for your elucidation and amusement...

Acaena is neither rare nor difficult--but I liked this particular picture taken twenty or more years ago at the University of British Columbia botanic garden: pictures like this are like little time capsules!




Acer granatense

I had never heard or Acer granatense prior to my 2001 visit to southern Spain...nor have I heard from it since. Despite collecting a bit of seed, none germinated. So as far as I know, this is still not in cultivation in America. Since this plant experiences months with no rainfall, I would think it would be a super candidate for xeriscapes...


Dan Johnson gathering a bit of seed of Acer granatense



Acer monspesullanus

Here is a cousin to the Spanish maple above--only this one growing at a private residence less than a mile from Denver Botanic Gardens. I suspect it may be 100 years old judging by its size and situation. It may be the finest tree in town. We now have a seedling of this at DBG producing its own seed...and another plant from a different source.



Adiantum venustum

I was shocked years ago to realize that the evergreen maidenhair fern of the Himalayas was very hardy. I've had some fine stands of this in various gardens (including my current one)...finding a plant in the wild you cherish in your garden is one of many rewarding aspects to gardening that are not often discussed. So I'm discussing it now! This picture was taken in a subalpine forest of Deodar cedars just below treeline in the Pakistan Himalaya. I would love to be at that spot right now...I suspect there would be fabulous displays of wildflowers there in the spring...



Adonis vernalis

I have seen Adonis vernalis many times since I took this picture, and grown it myself (or tried to)--but the first time I saw this, in April of 1981 is still the best. This picture was taken at Royal Botanic Gardens Edinburgh, where I shall be once again in a few weeks: hallelujah!



Agave utahensis v. kaibabensis

I have seen Agave utahensis many places, but what a thrill to see var. kaibabensis at a locus classicus--the Grand Canyon! Here shown with Susan Eubank, who was Librarian at the Canyon at the time, and now doing her bibliographic magic at the Los Angeles Botanic Garden. Although we obsessive plant people think it's just about the plants--it is just as much about The People--I have a long and sweet association with Susan, her husband Paul Martin and her enchanting daughter, Elisabeth--and love to visit with them each winter in Los Angeles...


Alcea kurdica

Some plants suffer from "glorious older sibling" syndrome, much as people do. Alcea rugosa has so robbed the limelight that this wonderful Turkish cousin, which I believe is much more drought tolerant, is almost unknown. It has been shooting off yellow fireworks for decades: one day I must have us propagate this for Plant Select testing...I think it is a winner.



Aletes acaulis

My daughter, Eleni and ex-wife, Gwen Moore two decades ago roughly, on Turkey Roost. However unpleasant a divorce is, my memories with Gwen are overwhelmingly those of our plant travels and gardens--both summit experiences of my life. I don't suppose she'd say the same. My daughter is still horribly adorable. As is the umbel.


Allium mirum

A plant is sold under this name that doesn't look quite like this: a picture taken a quarter century ago at Kew, and still eluding me...


Amsonia ciliata

Bluebird Nursery offered this gorgeous Amsonia for years--I notice they no longer do. I would love to try it again: I planted it in an unwatered garden where it actually survived for a while. Until one year that was a bit too dry. Love that fall color!


Androsace sericea

I noticed that Mike Bone still has some of this kicking around our greenhouses: notice those capsules full of seed. Taken at 13,000 in late September opposite Nanga Parbat, one of the highest peaks on planet earth.


Anemone coronaria 'De Caen'

I will long remember my shock when I saw these along the east west pathway at DBG: what really shocked me was that they came back several years in succession. Some of the things we have done are magnificent. We must do them again!



Anemone sp. Yunnan

An anemone in the Chinese Himalayas. I forgot which one...




Aquilegia cazorlensis

I grew this dang thing for many years, and miss it very much. I would love to be wafted to the Sierra Cazorla once again...and spend a good long time there.



Arabis caucasica v. lutescens

Another blast from the past--collected by one of the Czechs. Not terribly yellow. But yellow enough. Where is it now?


Araucaria araucana (Volcan Llaima)

Until one goes to the high Andes, one cannot imagine the exotic magnificence, the richness of the flora, the beauty of the people and the astonishing majesty of the peaks. There's smoke coming out of the volcano, incidentally!

Araucaria araucana (Volcan Llaima)

A youngster selling cones with not yet ripe seed in them. Don't ask me how I know...

Arisaema sp. Yulongshan

Growing in full sun on the slopes of the Jade Dragon peaks...those are anemones behind glimmering white...

Arisaema elephas

I was able to get a name for this one: growing in the same mountains in subalpine woodland.

Arisaema elephas

Some jerk (not me) dug this one up and left it on the boardwalk. The locals need a little training in environmental stewardship: the "national park" was overrun with herb collectors, kids on horseback, gawking city folk trampling everything and one and on. Harrumph!



Asperula nitida v. puberula

I still have a bit of this...I must propagate and regrow it...pictures are excellent reminders and calls to action...


Aster alpigenus

I have yet to grow this abundant wildflower well--I think I took this picture in Oregon. Come to think of it, I've never seen it in anyone else's garden either...



Astragalus spatulatus s of Laramie

One of the magical roadsides in Wyoming--so many of which have been regarded and "improved" by idiot road people with invasive foreign grasses to make them look neat. If I were dictator, they'd be sitting in obligatory wildflower preservation classes....weekly.



Aloe ecklonis on Platberg, Harrismith

I'm sure I've blogged about this at least once. Maybe more. It is the yellow form of the hardiest grass aloe I've only found once. All of them were yellow here--I hope I shall have the opportunity to once again climb that magical mountain. Alas, next time I shall not have Koos with me. But I shall be thinking of him the whole time!