Season's greetings from a lost book...

Castilleja rhexifolia by Esther Reed

 Not altogether lost yet--more like in limbo. This rather gorgeous watercolor is one of dozens residing (today) on my desk at work. They deserve (and will certainly) get better treatment...but first I must mourn books that I have lost....

I know, with a library of around 5000 books I shouldn't be pained by the half dozen that got away--mostly due to my own stupidity. Eventually, who knows what will happen to my precious little library...I can imagine several scenarios:

1)    If I died tomorrow, my children would inherit it (of course) and if they were smart they'd secrete the fifty or so books that have real value and sell them through Abebooks. I should do a list of these for them. And sell the rest to a book dealer for peanuts. A lifetime's book collecting might make some second hand book dealer a few thousand--or likely tens of thousands--of bucks. They deserve it for all the work!

2)    If I live long and comfortably enough I might donate it to a worthy place. Not naming names--but I have a short list. A very short list.

3)    If Social Security is gutted by the Billionaire bastards, I may have to sell them as well: how could 77 million fellow Americans be so mentally challenged? My one bitter consolation is that they are apt to suffer more over the next few years than those of us who voted blue.

Rhodiola rhodantha (left) and R. rosea var. integrifolia on the right

By the way, Esther didn't use either of these names in labeling this watercolor. Getting back to my litany--SOMEone, and it had to be a "friend", stole my leather-bound volume of the complete works of Antonio Machado I purchased in Spain when I was 20 years old and treasured. Maybe they "borrowed it" (I don't think I would have leant it) and "forgot" to return it...either way, I hope they reside uncomfortably in Dante's ninth ring of hell alongside all the Cabinet Picks of the regime to come. I'm sorry to be so uncharitable in this Holiday season--but some things are beyond the pale of decency....

Here's the back of the second painting: it hints at the enormous effort  and conscientious work Esther did to produce a book that died in the womb (so to speak). Although perhaps it will have a second life. By the way, I Googled her name: I don't believe she's alive. I can only imagine what she'd think that the home she lived in is valued by Zillow at $1.5 million dollars (I think she likely paid about 1% of that for it originally). Speak about beyond the pale...The world is seriously out of whack when property values explode like that in a lifetime--not to mention the sick body politic.

Copy of today's Zillow evaluation of Esther's former home

More losses: I loaned a first edition William Robinson to Andy Knauer in the seventies. I am quite sure Andy is not alive--a man I liked very much and resent that when I think him I think of my book. Ditto the third volume (with the best of his poetry) of Kostas Varnalis--loaned to Pantelis (whom I've lost contact with including his surname). A beautifully bound trilogy is now incomplete--a precious gift to me from my late uncle Antoni Kornaraki when I was 17. 

Hymenoxys grandiflora and Tetraneuris acaulis (var. caespitosa?)

You should see the synonyms on the back of THIS painting...perhaps I should have scanned them...

In the spinning nearly infinite scope of the Multiverse, a few books lost (my list could have gone on) a few books that never found themselves a publisher (I know of a half dozen more just as sad as this one--don't get me started) are trifles. The Universe ignores the destruction of the Library of Alexandria by  Caliph Omar in 640 A.D. or the Mongol destruction of Baghdad in 1258 which held literary treasures perhaps even exceeding Alexandria's (and incidentally marked the  terminus of Muslim enlightenment).

At any rate a book, sitting on my desk which was entrusted to my brother-in-law possibly decades ago and passed on to me by his children is sitting on my desk for now.

                                                                 Merry Christmas!

Feelin' the Blues (Yellowstone, Part two)

Penstemon cyaneus

 In the course of my life I've grown no end of penstemons: not merely dozens of species and hybrids--I'll bet I've grown nearly a hundred. But it wasn't till this past summer I encountered one of the most dazzling. Penstemon cyaneus has a rather large range in the Middle Rockies, as you can see below.

I've criss-crossed that region more times than I can think of, but this is the first time I found a mother-load of this wonderful taxon. Now...to get seed and GROW it! I know there are a lot of pictures of this...but how do you pick?

P. cyaneus next to the asphalt

Here next to Lake Yellowstone

Now which ones would YOU have weeded out. Our trip to Northern Wyoming over the 4th of July this past summer was a wonderful re-visit (I've done it a dozen times--maybe more)--each time I find something new...

2024 was eventful in terms of travel: the paramo of Ecuador, cloud forest nearby and the Galapagos in January. Early spring in California with Fritillaria affinis and so much more in abundance, Superbloom in the Hill Country of Texas, my third year of Superbloom in South Africa...almost forgot England and Armenia in May...

But sometimes you find something every bit as dazzling close to home: do join me next June for the AGM of the North American Rock Garden Society in Cheyenne: it is going to be amazing!

Wyoming wandering: part one--buckwheat bother

Eriogonum umbellatum ssp. majus

What's the bother with buckwheats? We'll get to that but first admire if you will the wonderful changing color on the perianth segments of this specimen--soon the whole umbel will be rose. I grew up calling this Eriogonum subalpinum (which it remains in my heart). This was classed as a subspecies of the common--almost always yellow--species because they supposedly intergrade. I did not find any evidence of this in Yellowstone National Park last July....as you will see.

Eriogonum umbellatum ssp. majus

 Yampa River Botanic Park contains a spectacular mass planting of this--one of our most abundant and wonderful groundcovers practically restricted to the Rocky Mountain subalpine zone (hence the very appropriate epithet). The white flowers when fresh are blindingly white.

Eriogonum umbellatum ssp. umbellatum

Three yellow flowered subspecies or varieties of the common buckwheat are found in Yellowstone National park: one, with hairy white leaves is endemic and very rare there (not pictured here). I believe this is the type form of the species--looking quite robust. Believe it or not--the last two pictures were taken a stone's throw from one another...

TWO different subspecies TOGETHER!

Here you can see a big sweep of  var. majus in front and a mass of var. umbellatum in the distance. I did not find any hybrids or evidence of introgression here. Methinks they shouldn't be lumped into one species...just sayin'...

Here you see a yellow form of umbellatum within an easy bee's flight of a mass of variety majus...

Eriogonum umbellatum ssp. umbellatum

I personally would prefer to raise var. majus back to E. subalpinum...hoping some gene jockey will be able to distinguish them enough soon. 

In whatever flavor, these (and a hundred other) buckwheats light up the midsummer mountains, and increasingly our gardens. There are dozens of subspecies of E. umbellatum: I am gratified that var. aureum collected by Dermod Downs on Kannah Creek near Grand Junction has become a popular Plamt Select introduction (incidentally, something I had something to do with in the misty long forgotten past)....now let's get 'majus' (in whatever scientific name) in that program too, please...

Ineffably beautiful pasqueflower

 

Pulsatilla patens (Asiatic form)

I think I have even more pictures of pasqueflowers than I do of snowdrops, adonis and crocuses--these four champions of late winter are so photogenic (and have so little competition) that we take no end of pictures--some (like these) almost capture some of their charm...if I'm not mistaken.

Pulsatilla patens again...

This will hopefully become my problem pasqueflower: half the size or less than the commonest species (Pulsatilla vulgaris) every one I planted has thrived and clumped up. Supposedly the same species as our Western pasqueflower (which I'm doubting) which is a devil to grow, this one is tough as nails (thus far anyway). There are two flies in the ointment.

Fly #1: they (like all my clematis and many other ranunculads) are magnets for some nasty species of beetle that devastates the foliage in the summer. They recover when those beetles disappear in August...but I can't help but think they'd do even better without the nasty pest.

Fly #2: we have travelled at inauspicious times. They set great umbrellas of shining seeds I keep waiting to harvest when they're perfectly ripe. I did collect a lot of its bluer native cousin in Wyoming last year as the  seeds on these shattered. Every last one of them. (I was so hoping to share this and grow more in pots). I only hope and pray all the scattered seeds germinate. I would LOVE to have this choke my garden the way Iberis taurica and Euphorbia cyparissius have done in the past! One can hope.

I believe this, the first in the series and the last picture are all the very same clump taken a few days apart. Just about as charismatic a plant as one can imagine...looks good going into winter. Hard to believe this should repeat this performance in a few months. Okay, maybe four...

As I type this I realize how emblematic this is of my gardening. Some garden to create beautiful vistas (I'd love to do this, but if I do it's an accident). Some garden for food (I should but I don't). I garden to find the most ineffably beautiful plants, and then try to persuade them to thrive and live forever nearby me. It's that simple!

Mistaken identity: Coryphantha robustispina ssp. uncinata

Coryphantha robustispina ssp. uncinata

 A picture of what I have been calling (and distributing seed of) as Coryphantha scheeri for many years (this picture was taken in 2007). Arguably one of the most beautiful and rewarding native wildflowers--It is fortunately being propagated and distributed by several specialty mail-order nurseries in Colorado (Ethical Desert and Cold Hardy Cactus--although the latter still uses the incorrect name "E. scheeri").

Coryphantha robustispina ssp. uncinata

Here's a side view that shows the husky tubercles and stellate spination--a handsome plant even out of bloom...

Coryphantha robustispina ssp. uncinata

It's the flowers, however, that make this so special--that wonderful butterscotch coloration. And the fact that they can produce multiple flushes through the summer. They often receive summer and early autumn rains in the monsoonal months of the Southwest. Most of my native American cacti bloom in the spring or early summer--so the late summer bloomers are all the more appreciated.

Coryphantha robustispina ssp. uncinata

Unfortunately I don't have pictures of the true C. r. ssp. scheeri--which this resembles except that scheeri has smaller flowers and fruits and no central spines--blooming mostly in spring. It is restricted to Eddy and Chaves counties in New Mexico and further south and east into Texas, whereas var. uncinata grows further west and is, as I've said, a later blooming taxon.

Range of Coryphantha "uncinata" (including both subspecies)

Unfortunately the two subspecies of robustispina are combined in the BONAP map as C. uncinata --most of the Texas and far eastern New Mexico locations are var. scheeri, while the Rio Grande valley westward is our taxon var. uncinata.

Coryphantha delaetiana

There are quite a few yellow-flowered coryphanthas in Mexico: I have grown this species for a decade or more in a pot I bring in and out. It blooms reliably every summer in repeated flushes like its northern cousin.

Coryphangtha delaetiana

A side view of the same plant.

Coryphangtha calipensis

I believe I photographed this beauty at the Huntington's incomparable Desert Greenhouse. Love that wool!

Coryphangtha compacta

Another cool Mexican cory (as we call them...)

Coryphangtha sulcata

I have featured this plant repeatedly in my blog--and can't resist doing so again. I tried it years ago, and it succumbed to cold, but eventually obtained Harlan Hamernik's northern Texas accession that Bluebird Nursery sold it at ridiculously cheap prices for years. That clone is bullet proof--just check out those huge clumps in Denver Botanic Gardens'  crevice garden near the entrance to the Rock Alpine Garden.

Coryphangtha sulcata

Like its cousin I began with, this is a repeat-blooming cactus that often flushes flowers again and again through the summer months. I'd be challenged to decide whether I preferred this or the first Cory I started with as favorites...I'm glad I have multiples of BOTH!

Have flower will travel (a year in bloom)

January: Gentianella cerastoides

It was easy for me to pick my favorite plant we found in Ecuador: in the shadow of Cotopaxi I thought I'd found crocuses at first. But no: a gentian. Ecuador is chockablock full of fantastic flowers--we saw plenty in rain forest, cloud forest...but the Paramo stole my heart and this gem of a gentian encapsulates it. Oh yeah--the Galapagos are awesome too!

February: mammillarias at B&B Nursery, Tucson

My favorite part of winter is escaping to California, Arizona--anyplace warmer than Denver. We did a swing through New Mexico (talk in Santa Fe), El Paso (another talk) and finally a week with friends in Tucson. We always visit B&B Nursery where I came back with treasure! I would have liked to bring home this whole bench of February color! Not enough room in my newish car (it's used)

March part one: Footsteps of Spring (Sanicula arctopoides)

March saw two trips: my swan-song as President of NARGS at a GONZO conference in Oakland: saw tons of gems in gardens (four of America's greatest public gardens no less: in full swing of Spring! and private gardens to die for). And field trips in the wild--but finally following the footsteps of spring was my ultimate flower high! I was tempted to pick one of the dozens of pictures of Fritillaria affinis--but already featured these in a blog post!

March part two: Salvia roemeriana

Seeing Texas in Superbloom has been a life-long dream: this year I did it for my birthday present to myself. Thanks to Patrick Kirwin, I joined an anthology of the greatest Austin plantsmen on a days trip to a mind boggling private ranch where I found this sage (and hundreds of other gems) that melted my heart. A friend in Denver grows this outside perennially! Then Patrick and my dear buddy Tom Peace took me on a drive through miles of color in Bastrop County. Best birthday present ever!

Paeonia tenuifolia in Sally Allen's garden

I did a week long nursery hopping trip to Oregon, Idaho and Utah in late April to buy rock garden plants for our club's sale in Denver: enchanted Spring! Just me, the cargo van, NPR alternating with Classical music and a hundred basin and ranges drifting by in gorgeous green and snow white color: America is so beautiful: I hope the Maggots don't spoil it beyond redemption. Bought treasures at Sally Allen's inspiring nursery near Medford (her garden seen above) just in time--she passed away a few weeks ago.

May in Sutton Valence

There is a garden beyond compare in Kent we revisited this past May. I don't think there shall ever be another garden like it--a treasure trove of thousands of choice plants grown in impeccable greenhouses (alpine, desert, Mediterranean), chiseled perfect parterres, and rock gardens, borders, woodlands and views to kill for over the English countryside. And then we stayed two days at Great Dixter. Heaven.

Iris paradoxa

How to pick among the thousand or so fantastic plants we saw in Armenia? No brainer--this was it

June: Penstemon pseudospectabilis

Incredibly, we only traveled within Colorado in June: this vignette: [stupidly named] Penstemon pseudospectabilis (which verges on being weedy in Glenn and Patrice's stunning garden) against a yellow bench: as emblematic as William Carlos William's rain-spattered red wheelbarrow and white chickens.

Polemonium sp. nov.?

An enchanted week on the Bighorns, Yellowstone and Beartooth Pass--where I revisited this Jacob's ladder, which I was convinced is undescribed. I came home and Mike Kintgen told me researchers are working on naming it (it's not viscosum nor confertum b.t.w.--its two closest cousins.)

August: Cleretum hestermalense

For three years running we have spent late winter (in South Africa) August reveling in superbloom. Each year it seems to be getting better! Can I risk a fourth? Thank you, Karel Du Toit--best tour guide on the planet. My tenth trip to South Africa was in 2024: hopefully not my last.

Rebecca Day-Skowron

September we were homebodies again--although we did manage an afternoon and evening jaunt to Raven Ranch--an extraordinary merging of great plantsmanship and art on acres of Black Forest and prairie. Rebecca and her husband Bob are two of my best friends--for decades. They just keep getting better--like the fine wine we were sipping...

October (part one) Mesa Gardens 

A presentation in Santa Fe (AGAIN) brought us back to the Enchanted State where we spent an incredible two days with Steve and Linda Brack--Steve is one of my life-long heroes who has become a dear friend: visiting Mesa Gardens (which he and Linda created and sold a few years ago) was haunting--greenhouse after greenhouse of treasures (most of which Steve grew from seed he collected himself decades ago in Argentina, all over Mexico and the Southwest, and all over South Africa as well!) next to THE MAN, and the delightful new owners who are carrying on the mission. Don't tell my fellow botanic gardeners--this nursery puts botanic gardens to shame.

October part two: Eriogonum heermanii

Back to Las Vegas (NV) for the second year to speak to Desert Green trade show. Last year cataclysmic rains in August washed out the road to Mount Charleston (we were thwarted). This year we made it and were rewarded by finding one of America's greatest buckwheats in prodigal seed.

November, Prunus (autumn reblooming)

Ten days of wending the back roads of New England--a week after peak of fall color! It was stunning enough as it was. Fantastic gardens and treasured friendships--this re-blooming Japanese Cherry (stupidly forgot to photograph the label) captures the promise of another spring when I hope to come back in peak Cherry Blossom season. I'm contracted to do so, I should add. (Good buddy Bill Barnes identified this as Prtunus subhirtella 'Autumnalis': thank you Bill!)

Almost December: Anna and Yoana née Taylor

 No firm plants this month to fly afar (that could change however), but my beloved and brilliant niece Anna did fly from afar (Bay area) to share Thanksgiving dinner with us. She was joined here by Russ Gillam (her new love of her life)--with whom we too bonded. One of my OTHER adorable nieces (Yoana Georgis) joined Jan and me touring Denver Botanic Gardens one balmy night amid the myriad lights. Oh yes, I forgot to mention Lulu--Anna's companion Australian cattle-dog hybrid mix--a sleek and beautiful creature who was convinced I was a cow. I know I can be bullish--and that's no B.S.!