Crevice garden manqué: the Sibley Center that was.

 

It's hard to believe 11 years have passed since I visited the Sibley Center at Calloway resort (once, Calloway gardens). I was struck by the extraordinary resemblance of the rock garden feature to the Czech crevice garden style that is becoming so popular in North America of late...

This rather wretched picture shows the way the tender succulents grew much as alpines do in Czech crevice gardens--festooning the face of the rock.

As you can see from this image, it was a spectacular method to display the diversity of succulents up close...

See how spectacular the Agave was atop the cliff in bloom!

 A closeup: what a terrific way to show off plants up close and personal!

The contrast between delicate, intimate miniatures and the bolder rosettes was delightful!

There was variety as you walked through--not everything was uniform...

 There was even a waterfall: that popular garden feature that causes the greatest maintenance headaches!

The lawn was a tad threadbare when we were there--but with that wonderful structure nearby, and the trees, flower beds--who noticed or cared?

It's a tad ironic that today when there is a tsunami of enthusiasm for succulents among young gardeners, now that Crevice Gardening is becoming a "thing" that may even go mainstream soon, this diadem of gardens, this paragon, this paradigm, this extraordinary little gem of a garden that anticipated both crazes is history.

Read this and weep:

https://plants.landscapeconsultantshq.com/content/john-sibley-horticultural-center

I believe the rockwork and plantings in the greenhouse were the design of Gary Smith, of W. Gary Smith: perhaps some clever botanic garden can hire Gary to re-create this gem now that both succulents and crevice gardens are taking off big time? http://wgarysmith.com/

Apropos of Pellaea: heavy metal for your rock garden

Pellaea bridgesii

 I was discussing Pellaea with one of my colleagues at lunch today: I haven't scanned the nearly thousand blog posts I've done for Prairiebreak or a few other places I blog now and again--but I'm quite sure I've never blogged about Pellaea. More is the pity--since I doubt a day in my life passes without my admiring Pellaea in my garden (I have several happy specimens I never seem to remember to photograph).  This picture haunted me for decades: I scanned a transparency I took on the Winnemucca trail at a NARGS AGM that took place at Tahoe 30 years ago (or more) in the Sierra Nevada. That was a fantastic conference, one of the happy consequences of it was that Sean Hogan met Parker Sanderson there. It is perhaps no accident that after more than three decades of plant yearning, I obtained this fern from Sean's fantastic Cistus Nursery in late June and it's growing happily in my garden. These are the things that warm the cockles of a plant nerd's heart--and if you're reading this you probably understand. Didn't get the heavy metal reference? It's their fronds--which look and feel more like aluminum than they do leaves.

Pellaea wrightiana

How, please tell me HOW could I have taken such a wretched picture of this fern? I was on a field trip with Scotty Smith, who took me to find it: it grows on a steep, nearly inaccessible cliff on Flagstaff Mountain perhaps 2 miles from where I grew up. It is hundreds of miles north of other stations for this gem--I still wonder if it didn't germinate from spore that might have wafted up when I grew it in my Boulder garden 45 years ago from plants given to me from the Oklahoma panhandle...we'll never know!

Pellaea wrightiana

Here's another wretched picture of it: I have seen this (or perhaps just plain P. ternifolia) growing abundantly in Chihuahua, Texas, New Mexico--but do you think I ever took a decent picture of it? I may have a better unscanned transparency in my dark, basement dungeon where I keep those things...)

Pellaea atropurpurea self sown on a boulder at Denver Botanic Gardens

I shall never forget seeing this fern growing luxuriantly behind the branches of espaliers in the gorgeous walled Potager at the great Biltmore estate--sheesh, that was nearly FORTY years ago--life moves along a little too quickly. I still wonder if those massive clumps of this wonderful plant--hundreds of them in the mortar behind the fruit trees--persisted: they were my favorite feature of that great garden (those, and the wild azaleas that were still blooming profusely on a steep slope). Since then I've seen it twice in Colorado where it's very rare--once north of Fort Collins and once near Kim in se Colorado. And I have several luxuriant, happy clumps in my own garden (one of only two plants that Tony Avent once asked me for spore--and I'm kicking myself I've not come through for him). At least don't you think I could get a decent picture! I'll go home right away and see what I can do. I admire it every day there.

Pellaea atropurpurea

But no, this is all I could muster from my garden: you can see it's pretty happy there!

Pellaea atropurpurea

 Another shot from my garden: there's really no excuse for me not to have collected this for Tony. Still not too late! Shucks: he lives just downhill a bit from Biltmore: they could give him bucketloads!

Pellaea breweri

I took this in Wyoming (I think). Or maybe Idaho. Or possibly California--I've seen this lovely thing several times, but not in Colorado. My colleague Mike Kintgen has seen it here however (it's only known from the nw corner of our state near where I was born).  It's another I'd love to grow: but I'm thrilled to have P. bridgesii at least (don't get me wrong!).

Pellaea atropurpurea

Another gem I must collect spore of. This is one of my all time favorites--a micro-cousin of P. atropurpurea. It is quite common in the Bighorns, Absoroka and Owl Creek mountains of Wyoming (and other parts of the middle Rockies). It somewhat resembles the slightly larger Pellaea suksdorfiana (or Pellaea glabella var. simplex) or whatever they're calling the gem that grows everywhere on the cliffs around Rifle Gap in Western Colorado. I know I've taken dozens of pictures of that--but none of them scanned. Or those wonderful California Pellaea with intricate lacy fronds (mucronata) I've seen all over that state? Or Pellaea brachyptera I purchased once from Siskiyou Rare Plant Nursery and killed?

And what of Pellaea truncata with its strange disjunction near Canyon City I've visited repeatedly over the decades? Or a half dozen Pellaea I've admired in Mexico--one of which I also saw in South Africa that can get a meter long! Where are my pictures of these?

Hang in there: I'm not done with this marvelous metallic genus. Gardening could be described as a series of serial love affairs with genera: this is one old girlfriend I keep dating however!

The August doldrums....

Dicranostigma leptopodum

Closely allied to Glaucium, the genus Dicranostigma is found in the Himalaya--in areas I have traversed four times over the last few decades and somehow not found it. But I've grown in now and again. Recently a good friend and neighbor (Steve Aegerter) grew a batch from seed and shared these with me: I think I found just the right spot for them! They're quite fetching for weeks, waving in the breeze!

Cheilanthes wootonii

Apparently, after noodling Notholaena, botanists are chopping at Cheilanthes: who knows what the "real" name is for this wonderful Colorado rarity, grown from spore by Mary Hegedus--one of Colorado's premier gardeners in Fort Collins.

Veratrum formosanum

 Photography does scant justice to this wonderful miniature Cornstalk lily from Taiwan. One of the stars of the late summer garden.

Lilium superbum forma

  Okay, Okay, I took this at DBG: I grow this at Quince as well--but my picture of the home stand didn't turn out as nice...such a spectacular (and inexpensive) bulb!

Ann Amato among the wildflowers

 Not long after she landed at DIA, our visitor from Oregon found herself in a field of Evening stars (Mentzelia nuda) and Cleome serrulata; late summer is a fine season for our prairie wildings.

 

 Kelly Grummons with a simply stunning miniature desert willow: I want one!

 

 One of many cool vignettes at Jim Borland's wild garden: the ceramic fish is by a local artist.

 

 Penstemon rostriflous blooming prodigally at the Garden at Kendrick Lake.

 

 A stunning (and alas unnamed) Sempervivum at APEX Simms crevice garden.

 

Eriogonum pulchrum

 If you get me drunk, I'll tell you the story of how Jim Reveal renamed this on the spot when visiting my home garden an autumn fifteen years ago (more or less)...here is a perfect specimen at APEX Crevice Garden....

 

 I'm always amazed to see how wasps pollinate (or do something with) plants.

 

 Rob Proctor and David Macke's extravaganza in North Denver: each year it seems to get more floriferous!

 

I'd never planted Mimulus along my stream before: I think this will be an annual event henceforward!
 

 Yesterday several of us re-visited a wonderful River Birch (Betula nigra) that Jim Borland showed me perhaps ten years ago: surely a state champion! August may not be the best month for flowers in my garden, but lots is happening around Denver and trees are always marvellous to see in any season!

Deceptive complexity of rock gardens

 Not the most exciting spot of my garden: I am always impressed with plants that sow into crevices (of which there are a number in here) are often not what you'd expect there--such as Silene armeria...This rather bland wall harbors quite a few little stories: notice how the sandstone wall is capped with granite--which geologists call a "discontinuity": our rock garden was built atop an existing sandstone structure: not many visitors seem to have noticed or commented on it: they do blend colorwise pretty well...

 

Here we get down to the nitty gritty: I only labeled seven plants, but could have scrounged another couple if I had to (the original image was high resolution--you'd be surprised what was lurking here that doesn't show up on Blogspot!). Seven is enough...from top clockwise to the bottom...

1) I've never keyed out that ferny Ferula that Mike Bone and I collected back in 2010. Unfortunately, it's monocarpic. It eventually makes an attractive frilly rosette a foot or so across, and blooms with showy umbels of white. And then it dies--always leaving a seedling or two to carry things on...I have grown very fond of this--and am always relieved to see it's perpetuated itself.

2) Sempervivum: I have nothing more to say than that I love these and don't have a clue which one this is. Impossible to have too many (or too many kinds)...

3) Verbascum roripifolium is one of my "signature weeds" that grows all over my garden. But I've learned it is especially beautiful on walls where I tuck in seedlings about now every year. This one beat me to the punch and grew on its own! 

4) the Rhodanthemum  was collected by my colleague and friend Mike Kintgen. It's been showing up in more and more crevices around my garden--blooming on and off for months. It's become a favorite of mine and if you get it I think you'll say the same. Notice the fat seedpod of the one on the left--I'll collect that tonight!

5) Nepeta mussinii is all over my garden: when it's in full bloom it looks like lavender clouds on the ground. I have been slowly eliminating it in more and more places (just too weedy I'm afraid). I'll miss those lavender ground clouds one day...

6)  Silene armeria is another weed, which I shall probably always have: it self sows into pots, all over the garden and blooms for months. Oh well...

7) Delosperma 'Copper Spinner': rather than FIRE SPINNER, I maintained one of its sibs with somewhat softer orange-red flowers. It died back a bit this last year: is this a rooted cutting, or is a seedling from the mother plant above? Perhaps well find out next year!

What I find amusing about this list is that I didn't plant any of these myself (except perhaps the semperivum)--they all spread to where they are by seed on their own, or perhaps by layering in the case of the Delo...but I still call it my garden!         

Now if this represents a square foot (albeit tilted) of my property, which in turn comprises around 24,000 square feet, I can only imagine the stories I've managed to pack into the whole space! And of course the same is true for your gardens...albeit unless you have a rock garden, you might not have such strange and marvelous plants! You can pack in a lot more plants in rock gardens and as Elisabeth Zander and I were just discussing on a ZOOM call, the rock garden is infinitely easier to maintain than any other type of garden. For one thing, there's all that ROCK!

As president of the North American Rock Garden Society I hope you consider joining what I believe is the premier plant expert group around. Rock Gardeners are simply amazing! I suggest you join NARGS first (but SRGC, AGS and the other societies may eventually lure you to join them too!)  Just click HERE. It's always time to come aboard!

San Juan a few endemics, a few musings: thank you Durango!

Besseya ritteriana

 The San Juan mountains are the most distant of Colorado's mountains from Denver where I live. This gives them an added allure for me, not to mention that they harbor some distinctive and strange endemic plants, like Besseya ritteriana!

http://bonap.net/MapGallery/County/Besseya%20ritteriana.png

 In case you were wondering just HOW endemic this plant is, I downloaded a distributional map from the web showing the counties where B. ritteriana has been found*: I added the red oval to show the general area where the San Juan mountains occur. You may want to compare the San Juans to the Delmarva peninsula shown on the right side of the USA (the peninsula includes all of Delaware and a big chunk of Maryland). There are a LOT of mountains in Colorado! And San Juan has the largest area of any of the ranges within this state!

*note to myself: do check out the Garfield County record: was it a mistake or does it grow on the Flattops too?

A few more shots of the Besseya: a large colony I saw in early July a short distance south of the summit of Red Mountain pass--they glowed brightly in the backlight as I drove past...

 I keep showing pictures of this odd plant for several reasons: it is one of relatively few plants entirely restricted to Colorado (if we annexed the Medicine Bow from Wyoming, the Uinta from Utah and the rest of the Sangre de Cristo from New Mexico, there would be a whale of a lot MORE of them?). Although the genus is tiny (six species) and with the exception of B. alpina, most are relatively homely, they're related pretty closely to Synthyris, which are pretty snazzy (and mostly bright blue). And I someone has to like these modest, strange little plants.

Erysimum "pallasii"

 Then there is the strange case of the purple alpine wallflower. I knew this for decades as E. amoenum, purple flowered cousin to our showy alpine E. nivale. Then one day I'm told by an authority that these are merely ecotypes of the widespread, often bright orange or brick-red Erysimum capitatum (the common tall wallflower of the Western Slope of Colorado. But now some botanists believe our taxon is synonymous with the circumboreal E. pallasii, which it resembles to a degree. Perhaps the Jury is still out on this one?

Here's another plant burdened with complex nomenclature: I have known it for some time as Arenaria saxosa, but nowadays it's subsumed by another, more widespread species (Arenaria lanuginosa var. saxosa). It has been booted into a new species by Colorado's late resident generic splitter (
Sperulastrum lanuginosum subsp. saxosum (A. Gray) W. A. Weber.) Appropriately enough, Per Axel Rydberg called it Arenaria confusa! Although supposedly widespread in Arizona, New Mexico and even California--the San Juans are the only place I've seen this in Colorado.

Perhaps not all that showy, I nevertheless like it enough I'd like to grow it in my garden.

Gentianopsis thermalis

August is the month for gentians in Colorado: we did see Gentiana parryi, which I forgot to photography (I forgot to photograph a lot of plants, not to mention scenery and (ahem) people!)...I have a special fondness for fringed gentians (a lot of close personal encounters with them for one thing)--but also because they inspired one of the finest flower poems in English.

There were Fly agarics (Amanita muscaria)by the hundred on many walks (maybe even by the thousand!)

Anemone globosa

I found this on an earlier scouting trip to Durango, atop Molas Pass near the parking lot: an especially fine form of our ubiquitous anemone.

Of course I forgot to photograph the famous Durango-Silverton narrow gauge train...will a stagecoach make do as a replacement? Durango does flaunt its Western brand at times, appropriate for the city adopted by Louis L'Amour.

Old town Durango (along mainstream) has numerous centenarian or older buildings of character. There is charm in each of Colorado's crazy mountain towns--Durango is near the top on my list.

Of course, all the mountain towns compete in growing amazing flowers along their streets--here is a modest example. You'd think flower abundance correlates to tourist dollars (which may in fact be true).

A glimpse of the "Slater"--Durango's historic and extremely lovely hotel. I'd have liked to have stayed here myself...perhaps one day I might!

I drove up to Fort Lewis many times (a dozen? two dozen?) on my various trips, and invariably there were deer along the way. A LOT of deer.

I was impressed with this mass planting of Yellow Banner (Thermopsis divaricata) which did the job of "groundcovering" on campus..

Alas, most attendees at the conference didn't know to see what has to be Colorado's state champion Trident Maple (Acer buergerianum) which I would never have dreamed would be reliable in our climate!

Nor did we make them go see (as the locals made ME see) this most amazing wall mural composed of the actual stones it illustrates in their geologic sequence around Durango. I'd like this on my wall! Unfortunately, I have too many bookcases for it to fit.

I end with this sad image of Elisabeth Zander (past president of NARGS and our current webmaster) showing m how to manage the microphone the last evening of the conference.

I didn't take a single picture during the conference--despite that a large proportion of attendees were personal friends and the rest of them may well become so in the coming years. Nor of the wonderful speakers--and I only took a few pictures on the hikes.

When the dust is settled (the leadership team is frantic wrapping up finances, details and writing checks still), I shall refrain from crowing except to say that busy as it may have been for me, I enjoyed every minute of the conference. If you haven't joined NARGS, you have no idea what fun you're missing. It's never too late--just click here and do it: Click HERE to find out how to join!