Late Lupin

I love so many things about Lupin. The way their umbrella leaves fill the space in my garden. The bottom up opening of the flower petals. The colour change the flowers go through from opening to seed. My favourite characteristic of Lupin has to be the way one or two will pop up at the end of the season just when I think they are finished. Two seasons ago, a friend brought me a small tray of unlabelled Lupin she rescued from a compost heap. She thought one might be yellow and one might be purple. All my Lupin to that point were varying shades of pink. This is the first of her gifts to bloom. It looks white but I think I can see a hint of yellow there. I hope it has enough time to go to seed before frost. Lupin are slow to get to the dry seed stage. Probably their only flaw.

Deadheading

Normally, I am quite good about deadheading... honestly. Even in this year of mayhem for my garden, I have managed to keep most things deadheaded. Of course, the reward is more flowers and a longer blooming season. I missed shearing down this patch of pinks when the first flush was done. As you can see, I still got a second flush of flowers but look at all those seedheads. The reward for not deadheading is more plants next year. Funny thing is, I can see myself standing in this very spot next year asking myself where all the pinks came from!

Self-seeding Perennials

Self-seeding perennials can be a little scary in a small urban garden.  I find small sprouts of new plants in the oddest places.  This is a spotted lungwort commonly called 'Bethlehem sage' or 'Mary and Joseph'.  It was one inheritance from my mother's garden when she moved into an apartment.  Twice I've thought it was gone for good, only to find a sprout coming up somewhere different.  Since I have lots of shady spots and this lungwort is more like a ground cover, I can handle a few extra plants every year.  Other plants that have survived my methodical spring weeding are brunnera, Jacob's ladder, donkeytail spurge and campanula.  The two that give me the most trouble are my tall blue lobelia and my alpine columbine.  While I leave lots, I still have to yank or move lots too.  They're both worth that extra effort though.

Fall Seed Sowing

Hardy perennials and self-seeding annuals in your zone can be sown in the Fall. The advantage to Fall sowing is that your plants will get a head start in the Spring, bringing you an earlier display the following season.

With hardy perennials, they should just be dropped where you want them. The key is to wait until it is cool enough that they will not start germinating in the Fall or to sow them early enough that they can germinate and set root in this season. You do not want them starting germination but not able to set root before your winter. Seeds require specific light, water and warmth conditions before they will germinate so once your weather turns cool, you are usually safe for Fall sowing. Just remember many perennials will not bloom their first season.

With self-seeding annuals, you know the seeds will survive the winter. In this case, you can get a jump on Spring by sprinkling the seed in your garden in the Fall, the same way the plant would release the seed on its' own. You can let the plants do this for themselves if you want to repeat them in the same space or you can harvest the seed and drop it in any new garden space you would like the plants to grow next season. The seeds will germinate in your garden often earlier than you would consider sowing them in the Spring, bringing you flowers earlier in the season. Another advantage of this schedule is that you need not worry about Spring weather. This year, for example, my garden was too wet to walk in long after seeds should have been sown.

If you collect seed, garden experiments are free of charge and are the best way for you to discover what works in your season, your soil, your garden. In my zone 3 garden of largely clay soil, I have had success with Fall sowing of Marigold, Hollyhock, Delphinium, Viola, Pincushion Flower and Forget-Me-Not. This year I am trying Hollyhock again because I want a new patch in a new space and I am leaving the Marigolds and Calendula to drop their own seed in hope they will appear in the same space next year.

Direct Seed Sowing: Fall or Spring?

I only sow seeds that can be direct seeded in the garden, using the method known in the seed sowing world as in situ, or, right where I want them to grow. I also try to direct seed as early as possible. Any seeds that can be sown in the Fall, I will drop within the next few weeks. Any seeds that could not survive my winter will be dropped in the Spring. I find that seeds are enormously rewarding in my garden because it is very little work for a big pay off with blooms right through until frost. Although there are some seeds that require specific or complicated care to sow, the vast majority of seeds are easy, requiring only that you drop them at the right time. The easiest way to know when to drop seeds is by watching which plants will self-seed in your garden. If, like Hollyhock in my garden, a plant will self-seed in your garden, you know the seeds will survive your winter and you can drop them in Fall. The advantage of dropping what you can in Fall is that seeds will generally germinate earlier in the garden than you would even consider dropping them in the Spring. In my garden, Fall dropped seed often starts to appear before it is dry enough for me to consider walking in the garden. If I did not drop them in Fall, their flower display would be much later in the season for me. If the plant does not self-seed in your garden, chances are its' seed is not surviving the winter and it needs Spring sowing. If you don't know if a plant will self-seed in your garden, sow the first seed in Spring. The following Fall, collect some seed and bring it indoors to store in a cool, dry, dark place while also allowing some of the seedheads to release their seed in your garden. You can help that process along by taking the dry seedheads off before the plant releases the seed and spreading the seed manually in your garden. The list is probably much longer but the plants that self-seed in my zone 3 garden today include: Marigold, Delphinium, Hollyhock, Bachelor's Buttons, Viola, Calendula, Daisy, Columbine, Yarrow, Goutweed, Speedwell, Summer Phlox and Knautia. Now the obligatory disclaimer: gone are the days when all seeds produced a predictable plant. Some seeds of hybrid plants will not grow true to seed, meaning that the plant you get will not be the plant you took the seed from. It is more likely to be one or other of the parent plants which are the plants that were used to produce the new variety. Still other plants are bred to be sterile and if they produce seed, the seed will not produce a new plant. Don't ask me! I think it makes no sense to have a plant that doesn't reproduce itself and makes even less sense to have a seed that produces nothing. I tend to stay away from those plants and stick to heirlooom, old-fashioned or country plants that tend to act like one expects a plant to act. If you collect seed though, experiments cost nothing but a bit of space in your garden. Try it. You will find it can be well worth the effort.

Blast from the Past

What fun looking through old garden photographs turned out to be! This is the Nursery Entry in 2005 which would have been the second year for the Nursery. If you stand in this spot today, all you would see is Lamium and Phlox. There is Golden Creeping Jenny there still but unless the Lamium has been recently pulled, you wouldn't see it. It has been a couple of weeks since I pulled Lamium here, opting instead to spend my garden time planting. I know the Creeping Jenny will survive and plan to move more of it in the next couple of weeks so will unearth it again then. The Allium above is the same patch that I took to Linda this year so it made it through the aggressive progression of the Lamium as well. The Nursery is an overgrown mass of plants today and is not recognizable in any of the 2005 photographs. Although I miss having it so neat and orderly, I would not trade that for all the plants I have harvested from the overgrowth and I will spend a good part of this Fall moving more. As an added bonus, my trip down memory lane produced white Columbine and pink Honeysuckle that I had completely forgotten. I am not sure where the white Columbine went but the photo prompted me to go and pull Lamium all around the spot it was originally growing. I was rewarded with three seedlings, one of which is large enough to possibly bloom next year. The white Columbine has a fringed leaf unlike any of my others so I am certain the seedlings are white. It was nice to have garden surprises this late in the season when I had thought the only surprises left were discovering what the new dahlia look like when they open. I wonder what I will find when I open the 2006 folder.

The Planning Process

This is my Combine Garden. I don't actually know if the piece of equipment that sits along the back of the garden is a combine or not but even if I were to find out now that it wasn't, I doubt I could kick the habit of thinking of it as the Combine Garden. It sits at the entry to Sleepy Hollow Road and there is a direct view of it from the little house. Although I did not originally plant this garden, I did drop seeds this Spring. When I did that, I forgot how much Yarrow was growing here and unfortunately, the Yarrow overpowered most of the seeds. This, coupled with all of the hollyhock seeding to the front of the bed, has got me thinking it is time to make changes here this year. The view from the other side of the bed shows just how unruly it really is. Today was sweltering hot and late in the day, a summer rainstorm blew through. The result was that I was inside with these thoughts and thus began the planning process. I love to plan my gardens. I can spend hours making lists, sketches and maps full of little labeled circles. It is, however, rare that I follow any of my plans. My planting technique tends to be more haphazard. The maps I keep usually are the ones I make after the planting is done. That never stops me from enjoying the planning process though so here is the plan for my new Combine Garden for 2011. Work begins this fall.

Step 1: Collect seed from  Marigolds, Bachelor's Buttons, Hollyhock and Sunflower 

Step 2: Shear down the Yarrow when done flowering to prevent it from seeding.

Step 3: Relocate at least half of the Yarrow, all of the Daylily and the Asiatic Lily.

Step 4: Remove weeds and dig grass out from back of bed around equipment and roses.

Step 5: Tie the wild rose stalks to help them climb the bush edge.

Step 6: Dig compost into the soil.

Step 7: Rake and mulch the bed.

Final Step: Drop seed this Fall and next Spring then wait to enjoy!

My new plan calls for this garden to become all direct sown or self-seeding plants with the exception of the Yarrow and the wild roses that stay. This garden is in full sun all day plus, it is quite a distance from the house. It needs plants that can handle our hot afternoon summer sun and do not require huge amounts of extra water. Calendula, Rudbeckia, Sunflower and Poppy are on the top of my list but that may all change when the seed catalogues arrive in the Fall. I will be sure to share the result next Summer so we can see how far I stray from the original plan by the time it is done.

Blind to Green

Having recently been in Linda's garden and then being back in mine, I have been thinking a lot about the differences. Linda and I have been talking about them a lot too. Mostly about the bugs and the weeds. Her bugs. My weeds. I have come to the conclusion that what saves me from my overwhelming organic battle with weeds in the garden and on the property in general, is my voluntary blindness to green. In fact, it took me a long time to appreciate foliage plants like Coral Bells and Hosta. My favourites are still those that have striking differences like 'Loyalist' with its' twisty petals and bright green strokes that almost glow neon in the sunlight. In my garden setting, the foliage groupings also need to obviously contrast to catch my eye. Combinations like Coral Bells 'Key Lime Pie' and Hosta 'Halcyon' will get my attention but others like sedum and summer phlox will all blend together in my view unless they are blooming. I think it is self-defense that my visual range does not seem to distinguish between medium green after medium green. It means that I don't see most of the weeds until something is blooming near them. An added bonus side effect of this odd visual tick is that things like the wild cucumber vine (above) can get very big before they surprise me. Linda would have pulled this out at the two leaf stage because it would have jumped out of her gardenscape at her like a sore thumb. I love wild cucumber vine. It climbs anything including phlox above and often ends up looking like little leaf steps. Although the white blooms are insignificant, it gets big, prickly seed pods that look like little, round cucumbers and make delightful popping sounds in the fall when they drop seed. Like most wild things, they do not like to be moved. Dropping seed is often a better way to get them in specific spots but many wild things also do not like to be placed. I have tried to drop wild cucumber seed more than once here and it has never taken. Happily, it still pops up here and there in my garden on its' own. 

Seed Sowing Success

On May 22, I raked the Combine Garden and threw down several varieties of seed. It should have happened much earlier than that but this year, we went from frost, into a rainy season that lasted through most of June. It was a season of guerilla planting that demanded I be at my most creative. Some days I would run out in the rain, plant and run back in to dry off, leaving all the tubers and roots inside to sort. Some days I would work outside all day in a steady drizzle, weeding when I couldn't dig. In the end I was doing two things I would never recommend: planting in ground with bagged soil and potting up over 50 variety of dahlia. It was an unusual year requiring equally unusual tactics. In addition to sowing late, I had forgotten how much Yarrow was in that garden. Having only recently discovered it was my garden and not being the person who planted it, I am forgiving myself for the memory lapse. Despite the terrible odds my best intentions produced for the poor little seeds, 10 weeks later I am rewarded with the first blooms. Bachelor's Buttons 'Black Ball' (above) are blooming right beside Marigold 'Citrus Mix' containing this Lemon Yellow and this Orange. This is one of the true joys of gardening. Just when Mother Nature convinces me I should give up hope, a new colour shows up across the yard. This Fall, the Yarrow is being brutally thinned so the Bachelor's Buttons can self-seed happily.