ere are some pics I took late yesterday evening. They are all tall and skinny, except for one. This time of the spring ladybells, Adenophora lilifolia, plays the leading roll in the border landscape. It adds height to the landscape, and creates a stunning backdrop for the shorter players. It is also known as deer’s foot, because of its leaf pattern. Ladybells is a near relative of the genus Campanula, but is far better suited to hot, humid summers than its northern cousins. It is a bit of a runner, so moderate caution should be exercised.
Other players include yellow iris (of some sort), red hot poker, Veronica spicata, and columbine. Click each image to enlarge it. Enjoy.
The amaryllis is from our eldest daughter, who after enjoying the blossoms indoors one Christmas, many years ago—her college days—gave it to us the following spring, and on a whim, we planted it outside. It lived! Oddly enough, we purchased a supposedly “hardy” outdoor amaryllis, which lasted only a few years. The two pinkish interlopers on the right, and the greyish foliage peeking in here and there is rose campion, Lychnis coronaria, a biennial. It comes up here one year, there the next. This year a plant came up near and around the amaryllis. Spread by seed, it is not very hard to keep in bounds. The seed was given to us some years back by a dear old friend from Texas.
Things are starting to happen out in the vegetable garden, so have a fruitful weekend, and a blessed Lord’s day.
ake away the must-have multiple offerings of the genus Viburnum, and the mandatory spring bloomers Forsythia and Flowering Quince, and there aren’t many deciduous shrubs worth having in the landscape. There are two specimines, however, that hold off blooming until later in the spring that have merit in a sunny location in a medium to large home landscape.
iversity is good, especially in the landscape. In the church, now, the issue is a bit more complicated. I’m not even going to go there. Let me just put my theological plug in and be done with it. Then we can get back to the landscape.
round these parts in May, folks are anxious to see the first offerings of the roses in the yard. To fulfill Southern tradition, in honor of their mother, one dons a rose on his or her lapel before going to church on Mother’s Day. If you didn’t have one, a neighbor would gladly let you snip one from his landscape. A red rose signifies that your mother is still living, while a white rose on the lapel means that your mother has “passed on.”
Under no circumstances would I end that with “go away.” Rain in Oklahoma is a blessing almost always. It has hindered the photography, though. I almost took some shots on Tuesday, which would have been best. Other things pressed in, and that day passed. Since then it has been quite rainy, making a good number of this week’s prospects pretty much unsuitable. This first shot says it all. These Oxalis blooms have not been damaged, they are merely rain-shy. In any case, more blossoms will return all summer long. You can expect to see a number of different Oxalis shots up in the summer months.
The red buckeye, Aesculus pavia, was what I was hoping to showcase this week, and I will, in spite of the rain. The overall appeal has faded a bit, but this one close-up showed a fair number of blossoms still strutting their stuff. Remember several weeks ago when I mentioned the acronym “MAD Horse?” The Horse part of it refers to the genus Aesculus, sometimes commonly called horse chestnut. Horse refers to strength, or in this case, poisonous. You will recall that the acronym helps you remember four genera. The entire genus Aesculus is one of those four in which the branches are arranged opposite one another. The red buckeye only reaches about fifteen feet in hight, and takes its sweet time to get there. It is a perfect small tree for small yards, if you do not have small children.
’m not going to comment on these photos, except to say that they are all of fruit blossoms taken this Wednesday in our back yard orchard. This can be a test for you. See if you can identify the fruit that will come from these blossoms. I will give you a couple of clues. The peaches have already finished blooming, and the blackberries haven’t yet begun. The file names give it all away. Notice my supporting cast in the first two pics. Enjoy.
There is nothing common about the common Lilac, Syringia vulgaris. It has a fragrance that is like nothing else in the landscape, a fragrance that more than makes up for this old standard’s lack of show for the remainder of the year. Being deciduous, it stands bare all winter long, and for it to bloom in the spring that winter needs to be long and cold. Here in zone 6b most all lilacs are at their southern limit. The lilac is to the north country what the crape myrtle is to the south.
Flowering dogwood, Cornus florida, is probably the most widely-planted spring-flowering tree in the eastern half of North America. It will grow anywhere it can get a moderate amount of rainfall, but its native habitat is that of an understory tree in hard-wood forests where there is a well drained, evenly moist soil. You can find the native stands in the hilly woods of eastern and south-eastern Oklahoma, mostly all of them white, with a few accent trees standing out in various shades of pink.
The eastern redbud, Cercis canadensis, is badly named, common as well as Latin. It is certainly eastern, found native in the south-eastern quarter of the United States, yet canadensis refers to Canada, where this small tree is not even remotely native, or even viable. I haven’t a clue as to why this small tree has been so named. My wife jokes that a man must have given it its common name, since the buds are hardly red. Regardless what you call it, this time of year the eastern redbud is a stunning little tree. Being the state tree of Oklahoma, you will find it planted just about everywhere in the Sooner state, except out in far-western Oklahoma, where there is not enough rainfall. The specimen shown here is Cercis canadensis ssp. texensis ‘Oklahoma,’ and is one of the newest additions to our little “park.” Boasting a deeper pink/purple bloom than seedling redbuds, ‘Oklahoma’ is showing up more and more in landscapes, for obvious reasons.
Taxonomically, the eastern redbud is a legume, making it more closely related to the green bean and peanut than to the oaks or maples. The family tie can be seen in that the seed pods, when still green resemble miniature snow peas. The flower buds of the eastern redbud, unlike any other plant I can think of, are borne in clusters on older wood all up and down a stem. This feature makes even our little specimen quite showy. My wife took these pictures a little over a week ago, but this redbud, and all the others around are still in full swing. Later, when the blossoms fade and seed pods begin to form, large heart-shaped leaves will emerge, dark green and polished. If you don’t have one of these in your landscape, you either live in an apartment, or you’re not an Oklahoman.
Sometimes it’s the little things, the small details that brings me such joy in the spring landscape. Sure, the grand sweep of a bank of pink azaleas under a grove of loblolly pine is stunning, but you have to stand back far away to take it all in. In those scenes, sometimes I feel a bit detached from it all, because to get closer is to loose the beauty. The parts of the landscape I like the best are those elements that are best appreciated on your hands and knees.
