Plant Talk

Now In Bloom - Hollyhocks

At the moment, I'm enchanted by hollyhocks (Alcea rosea), double, single, ruffled, pastel or in the deepest, darkest shades of maroon and plum.  Langley is a city of lilacs in springtime and the most gorgeous and healthy hollyhocks I've ever seen in summer. Hollyhocks tend to be disease-prone in our climate, their foliage riddled with rust - not in Langley! Hollyhocks are growing along the roadside here, sticking out of hedges, edging gardens and blooming in the little alleys between shops in town. They tower overhead, growing a surprising 7-10 feet tall.

Hollyhocks are traditional cottage-garden flowers, yet are so tall and stately, with big, open flowers, that they're striking in any style of garden. The darker flowers like 'Night Watchman' (above) look more modern; the doubles in water-color shades like 'Apricot-Peach Parfait' are sweeter and more old-fashioned looking.  Renee's Garden has a good selection of seed in exciting colors.

Hollyhocks need full sun and moist, rich soil that drains well. The secret to growing healthy hollyhocks is not to crowd them  - plant them a couple of feet apart - so air circulates freely around their foliage. And keep them well-watered; a soaker hose laid along their root zone keeps them blooming happily. If you plant hollyhocks next to a fence, hedge or wall you hopefully won't need to stake them up.

A short lived perennial or biennial,  hollyhocks live a couple of years, but tend to reseed themselves about so they return consistently to bloom summer after summer. Cut the stems back to the ground after they're done flowering, mulch well in late autumn, and enjoy a mid-summer hollyhock display for years to come.

Here are some of the hollyhocks gracing Langley alleys and byways on the morning of August 4th....

 

 

 

Now In Bloom - Opuntia

The sun finally came out and my little prickly pear cactus (Opuntia compressa) opened its first flower. A gift from my brother-in-law who bought it near Mossyrock as an unlabeled bit of green stuck in a pot, it's the only cactus in my garden.

Supposedly not hardy here, my opuntia made it through the winter mingling with other succulents in a large trough for good drainage. The trough is up against the house for shelter, and under the eaves to keep these drought-lovers out of the rain.

The tissue-paper-like, fluffy layers of clear yellow flower are so incongruous with the prickly pads of the cactus. Such delicate bravado reminds us that flowers are the sexual parts of the plant - it's a flower's job to beguile. I'm not falling for the spiny allure of these desert plants, but the flowers are so unexpected and exciting I might need to seek out a few more hardy kinds to tuck under the eaves...

 

Now In Bloom - Rosa 'Westerland'

"The art is in the edit" said Ray Bradbury....and I've edited my garden down to a single rose. Not that I don't love rugosas, musk roses, so many of the English roses (the yellow 'Graham Thomas' is SO tempting) that it was extraordinarily painful to whittle down to one kind of rose... But when it comes right down to space and especially health, I've found roses to be expendable. Painfully so...with just a little more space, I'd plant a pewter-leafed Rosa glauca and certainly a changeable Rosa mutabilis or two...

The one rose I can't live without, despite its nasty thorns, is 'Westerland'. What distinguishes it beyond all others? 'Westerland' has glossy, disease-free leaves, it flowers freely all summer long, the flowers change color from a rich golden to shades of tangerine, apricot and amber. Best of all, 'Westerland' wafts an amazingly potent, citrus-y perfume around the garden....I grow it up a sturdy wire screen, where it holds its own with wisteria and the vigorous purple-flowering clematis 'Roguchi'.

All you need do is give it full sun, manure, water, regular dead-heading, and stand back....

Here's  'Westerland' climbing eight feet high and blooming like crazy. I sure wish I could send you a scratch-and-sniff version so you could get the full effect.....

 

Now In Bloom - Oriental Poppies

   The most dazzling kind of poppy is at its peak  - tissue paper thin, with black blotches on each petal and a dramatic, black center as hairy as a tarantula - Oriental poppies (Papaver orientale) are blatantly, sumptuously gorgeous.

Even the greatest beauties have their flaws. With Oriental poppies it's the coarse foliage that yellows and withers away unattractively. But they have fat, enticing buds, are truly perennial and their flowers are so huge (5-6" across) and saturated with color it's hard to believe they are real, living things you've grown yourself. Outdoors.

They're the stars of the garden during their brief bloom, and well worth the space they take up. Simply cut away the yellowing foliage, and plant a few sunflowers nearby, late season grasses or hardy geraniums to fill in the gap Oriental poppies leave behind them by mid-July. But be sure and leave the showy seed pod standing, for it'll attract nearly as many butterflies and ladybugs as the flowers, and over a longer time.

Oriental poppies are so exotic looking you'd expect them to be high-maintenance, but they only need occasional watering, good drainage, full sun, and to be divided in autumn every couple of years.

All the rain in June tattered my poppies a bit, but at least the cool temperatures kept them blooming longer than usual. Below is the ethereal peachy-pink 'Princess Victoria Louise' and the orange-scarlet temptress 'Brilliant'' blooming away in my Whidbey Island garden yesterday....
No flowers are more gorgeous in a vase - simply singe the thick stem for 30 seconds or so and even these big, blowsy poppies hold up for several days in the house. 

Now In Bloom - Delphiniums

Delphiniums are the glory of June, and they're blooming full tilt despite the less-than-warm weather. The foggy, misty weather brings out their brilliant blue, perhaps because  delphiniums are the quintessential British cottage garden perennial. Bright sun washes them out....no worry about that this year....

The weather is so chilly that the delphiniums are lasting longer than usual. The first day of spring on March 20 hit a high of 56 degrees, matched by the 56  degree high on June 20. Go figure!!.

Dwarf English delphinium (D. elatum 'New Heights') are improved strains that are stocky, sturdy, and spectacular. Black "bees" center each blossom, and the cobalt color is so intense it almost vibrates. These perennials need sun, rich soil, plenty of water and good drainage.....I grow them in raised beds with lavender and coneflowers that grow up and fill in as the delphinium fade.

 

 

Now In Bloom - Carpenteria californica

Carpenteria californica is in full, snowy bloom to celebrate the solstice.

This mid-sized evergreen shrub may be native to California but it's dependably hardy here. A close relative of mock orange, it's commonly called bush anemone for its large, sweetly-scented flowers that are anemone look-alikes. Centered with fluffy yellow stamen, the pure white flowers are shown off to perfection by the deep green of the foliage.

Carptenterias prefer sun but can take shade, don't want to be over-watered, and aren't particularly attractive to deer. They grow about six feet tall and three feet wide, make lovely specimen plants, effective hedges, will live happily in a container for years, and a single branch cut and stuck into a vase makes a long-lasting arrangement.

The Carpenteria californica below is thriving alongside the parking lot at the Inn at Langley.    Happy Solstice - Enjoy the longest day of the year.

 

Now In Bloom

My garden designer friend Doug Bayley gave me a woolly little mullien (Verbascum bombyciferum) summer-before-last, and it's just come into its own. This tough biennial is planted in compacted gravel alongside the driveway and it's the happiest verbascum I've ever grown - finally, I understand how to treat these guys. Water rarely, fertilize not at all, plant in lean, dry soil and ignore them. The result? A wonder of a plant that's as textural as it is architectural, with thick, silvery felted stems and a tall, widely branching candelabra shape.

The first summer it languished as a low rosette of pretty soft leaves. Then early this spring it pushed up and up, unfolding slowly into a tall vividly silvery presence. I'm hoping it'll bloom most of the summer before it sets seed and completes its life cycle; hopefully the gravel driveway has proved hospitable enough that it'll seed itself about to return next year and the next.

Thanks Doug - the perfection of this single driveway plant startles me with its flat out splendor every time I come home...

 

 

Now In Bloom - Allium Galore

From chives to ornamental allium, the onion family is blooming. If you have the space, Star of Persia (Allium christophii) has basket-ball sized heads of starry lavender flowers hovering a foot above the ground on incongruously slim stems. I grow dozens of the taller, slimmer allium that can easily be squeezed in between shrubs and lilies; Deepest purple A. 'Sensation' and the slightly paler later blooming A. 'Globemaster' are in full bloom at the moment;  the effect is heavenly. White allium are less showy, more ethereal; I love the ghostly Allium 'Mount Everest' (below) flowering at Useless Bay Coffee Company along 2nd street in Langley. 

Whether white or purple blooming, these taller allium have long-lasting flower heads a little bigger than a baseball. They lend height and dimension to the garden even after the flowers fade; gardeners have been known to spray paint faded allium heads to continue the show into summer. Allium are dependably perennial, returning to bloom every May. The flowers seem to get a little smaller every year (maybe I need to fertilize more?) which is incentive to plant at least a dozen more every fall.

Plant fat, flowering onion bulbs in autumn in a sunny spot with well-drained soil. In early spring, they throw up strappy leaves, then in April a three foot tall stalk shoots up, soon to be topped off with flower balls. The leaves wither down unattractively - the only criticism I can think of - but you won't notice because your garden will be filled with these gorgeous, bee-attracting, flower globes.

Allium 'Sensation' in a rare bee-free moment

Allium 'Sensation' and 'Globemaster' blooming with coppery carex, Spirea 'Magic Carpet' and fragrant orange wallflowers (Erysimum 'Apricot Twist').

 

Allium 'Mount Everest' in the edible street-side garden at Useless Bay Coffee Company in Langley

 

Now In Bloom - Clematis 'Crystal Fountain'

Overblown clematis usually don't appeal - I mostly grow more modest clematis like the sweet, bell-shaped alpinas . But I couldn't resist Clematis 'Crystal Fountain', with flowers so over-the-top I didn't even believe the photo when I first saw it in the White Flower Farm catalog. And now 'Crystal Fountain' is blooming luxuriantly in my Langley garden....three years in the ground and it's scrambled to the top of a six foot high hog wire screen.

The thick fluff of ethereally pale stamen in the center is the wild part about these lavender striped, 6" flowers;  the effect is stunning and belies the fact these are tough perennials that bloom in mid-May and then flower again generously in late summer. Give them plenty of water, shade at their roots, a strong structure to climb. 'Crystal Fountain' is long-lasting cut for arrangements, and (knock on wood) I've never seen a sign of clematis wilt; these are vigorous vines smothered in delectable flowers.

 

Now In Bloom - Clematis montana

There's nothing choice, unusual or maybe even special about Clematis armandii, but I've always loved this early-flowering, vigorous vine. It grows like crazy, and is persistent enough to garland a pine or fir tree with its sweet-faced flowers. The blossoms smell like baby powder and are pale pink ('Elizabeth'), left, or white ('Snowdrift'), below. They need regular watering, and prefer sun but can take some shade. The hardiest of clematis, these tough vines produce masses of flowers May through June.

Clematis armandii don't need pruning since they flower on old wood, so just let them romp, as the owner of this house in Leschi has done - yes, that's Clematis armandii 'Elizabeth' scaling the rooftop.