As we enter the winter months, one question I get asked often is how to care for potted cyclamen. Cyclamen are a popular florist plant, especially around the winter holidays; they are sold in pots at stores and shops beginning as early as September, peaking around the New Year. While they are generally thought of as a winter blooming gift plant or in warmer climates like California, as a winter outdoor bedding or container plant.

Above: Cyclamen graecum ssp. candicum, a tender species native to Greece with a dwarf habit, and one that must be kept underclass.

I like to separate Cyclamen into two groups. One: The gift and bedding plant group – which icludes all of the fancy types we find at garden centers and as potted plants, and Two: The collector or enthusiast group – comprised mostly of species, the wild species and various named selections of those species. There exists a collector base among plant enthusiasts who collect and grow a number or all of the 24 species, both under glass in cool greenhouses as well as outdoors in their gardens. These are generally the more serious plant people who know what they are doing, and belong to any or all of the specialty plant societies like NARGS (the North American Rock Garden Society, the AGS (Alpine Garden Society) or the Cyclamen Society. You know who you are.

There is much more to Cyclamen than you might think. First, there are 24 species, but only one of the species is grown commercially as a flowering potted plant, and that is Cyclamen persicum. I should add that also, that is a bit misleading, and most of the hybrids sold at florist shops and garden centers are crosses and hybrids known as interspecific crosses (different species were crossed to create the super-fancy flowers and colorful foliage). In a way, most are labradoodles.

Above- My sand plunge bed in late September with multiple wild species of cyclamen blooming before their foliage emerges.

This post will focus more on the florist cyclamen, how to grow it, how to not kill it quickly, and some myth busting, cultural guidelines and tips.

The Cyclamen (specifically selections of C. persicum, which I will simply refer to as Cyclamen for the purposes of this post) was first introduced into Western Europe in the 16th century, but the exact year is unknown but one source lists it as being imported from Turkey and grown in Queen Elizabeth’s garden as early as 1605. The nursery Morin listed two color forms in 1630, and by 1700, catalogs in Paris and London listed a number of species and colors.

It wasnt until the 19th century until C. persicum moved from being a collectors plant, (known as the Persian Cyclamen) to becoming a cultivated plant. This aligns with the advent of the glass greenhouse. Its popularity was slow, as the plant was challenging to propagate. Early growers attempted to divide the tuber (always a risky operation due to decay and slow growth and loss) and seeds, which often were too few, and slow to germinate. Even by the end of the 19th century, it could take up to 2 years to get a seed raised plant to flower. This remained the case until the 20th century.

IN the meantime, some breeding work greatly improved the wild species. New forms were being selected beginning in the 1850, with new colors, larger flowers, smaller plants (dwarf) and some cross breeding with other wild species to achieve a broader color range. by 1890 some German breeders were introducing frilly petals, stripes and doubles. The larger forms (then known as groups like Giganteum, Robustum or Splendens) were emerging both from England and Germany which made the cyclamen very popular as a florist plant. These look little like any wild form (and were once known as mutations, but no record of true mutation exists, these were most likely through selection)- most modern cyclamen grown commercially today are from these strains.

Above: Cyclamen hederifolium ‘alba’ growing in a pot in my greenhouse. If kept dry until flower buds emerge in late summer or autumn, one can have a display like this. If I watered plants sooner, to break dormancy, foliage emerges and hides some blooms. This often happens when this species is grown outdoors. It is frost-hardy, to 14 degrees at least, even more if the tuber is planted deeper. It survived through zone 5 if there is a good, dry snow cover and no irregular temperature shifts in spring.

Through the early 20th century, American, French, and German breeders continued improving the plant – working to reduce stem length so that plants would not flop, have larger flowers, and bigger and smaller plants. In 1894 a breakthrough variety called ‘Salmon Queen’ (bred by Sutton and Sons in the UK) was a pivotal moment in developing an even broader range of hybrids. By the mid-century, fringed forms (Fimbriata-types) were introduced, followed by Dutch and German breedingat led to the modern cultivars that we know advancements th today. Today there are well over a few hundred cultivars of named cyclamen to choose from.

If you’ve struggled to keep a gift cyclamen plant alive indoors during the winter, you are not alone. After searching the internet, I came across so many myths and misinformation about caring or propagating cyclamen that I felt motivated to clear up much of the confusion and bad info here and now.

To topline care, Cyclamen prefer cooler temperature and humid air. If you live in the north where your home has central heat, keeping a plant alive through the holidays can be touch. Find a cool if not cold windowsill to keep them, and be sure that the pots never dry out (nor, allow plants to sit in water). Yellowing leaves are a sign of stress, and while you should expect a few, more the 3 means that something went wrong. Remove the foil or plastic wrap on the pot, and water the pots well (until the water runs out of the bottom) and then set the pot on the sink to drain, and later keep it on a plate.

Above: A Cyclamen graecum emerging from its summer dormancy under glass. Most species are different than the florist hybrids, as they bloom before their foliage comes out in autumn. C. persicum blooms in late winter but the foliage emerges in the fall.

Choosing a good plant.

Choose a plant that has a lot of buds that are not open yet. A plant will not create more flower buds after you buy it, as it has a short bloom season (about 2 months). Manage your expectations, and time the display but choosing a plant that has just started blooming. The truth is, that for most of us, a cyclamen is throw-away display plant. Any expectations that you can keep a plant from year to year is unrealistic – even if you have a cool greenhouse as I do. The species are easier to keep from year to year, but the florist varieties are ones that I simply toss after they bloom. Most have be grown too agressivlely, treate with plant growth regulators (PGR hormones to keep them dense) or over fertilized to focus on flowers and not tuber or root permanence).

If you live in a zone with a mild climate (where it never dips below freezing) you can plant C. persicum hybrids as a temporary bedding plant. Popular in mass-planting at hotels and resorts, they are again best treated as a temporary display plants – as you might treat an ornamental kale, for example. If you want to keep it as a house plant, try to keep the plant as cool as possible, some folks set them outdoors on a patio if their home is too warm such as in Southern California. Know, however, that C. persicum is not frost hardy, and it will freeze.

Above: Seed is the preferred way to propagate all cyclamen. The seed capsules ripen in late spring, and one should keep an eye out for ants that will steal the seeds and plant them unless you can pick the pods earlier. Each seed has a sweet material on it to attract ants which naturally disperse the seeds after nibbling on the sweet stuff.

Search the internet and you will find some crazy myths that you should note. First, you cannot root a cutting from a leaf. You cannot start a new cyclamen from a leaf cutting. I dont know where this idea started, but if the blog post only has an illustration, or no photo of a leaf petiole with a root, there is a reason. This is completely made up, and fake news.

Commercial growers never propagate their cyclamen by division – and a tuber cannot form more tubers. The term ‘division’ is sometimes used for a method known as tuber splitting (similar to bulb scaling). Still, it’s an out-of-date method that is difficult to master, as cutting a tuber into quadrants will require sterile conditions and materials. Not to mention that it will take 3-4 years before one will get a blooming-sized plant. Some species, however, eventually form huge tubers that are irregularly shaped, and sometimes, a section of a tuber that has a thin connection to the main tuber can be snapped off, but this still needs to be recommended and is unreliable. A portion of a tuber can often die while another portion takes over.

Most, if not all, cyclamen are seed-raised. Saving seed from a plant that was a florist plant is never a good idea (most won’t ever set seed as they are sterile), but you will still see posts on sites that say “It’s easy!). If you are lucky enough to have a fruit on a plant, the offspring will be inferior to the parent, as all are hybrids. Not to mention that it can take years for a seed raised plant to bloom. Commerical growers with hand-pollinated seed of hybrid varieties can however raise a plant in 14 months to flower. If you purchase seed from a reliable seed source, and if you have a greenhouse, you can do this. I find cyclamen, particularly the wild species and their selections very easy from seed, but again, in a greenhouse.

Above: Cyclamen prefer a porous, well-draining soil rich with some organic matter like leaf mold. I use a mixture of fine wood bark, large perlite, horticultural grit and some of my own South African bulb fast-drainging lean soil mix (mostly sand, peat-based ProMixBX, pumice and perlite). The soil is rather lean,but slightly acidic, but nutritionally, cyclamen prefer a lean, well-draining soil. I fertilize once or twice a winter once the plants are in full growth with a low nitrogen feed. Osmocote doesnt work well for the species as they grow at temperatures below 70° F. Water however should be acidic (I use rainwater).

Cyclamen have a dormant period – most prefering a dry, warm summer, and a wet cool autumn and winter. Though some varieties in planted outdoors in very cold climates, do best with a hot dry summer, a wet autumn, and a rather dry, cold winter (like under a tree).

Above: A dormant 20-year-old tuber of a Cyclamen graecum is being repotted in my greenhouse. I repot every 5 years as plants prefer to grow untouched. This occurs in July while the plants are dormant to avoid damaging roots. Take care not to damage the top or bottom of the tuber. Sometimes, you can see small, immature flower buds beginning to twist out of the top of the tuber, even in August.

Hardy cyclamen do exist, but if you live in the north, it depends on how much snow cover you get, and how wet your soil is. For example, in my Zone 6b garden outside of Boston I struggle keeping one of the hardiest cyclamen happy outdoors – C. hederifolium, while friends in Vermont have no problem. I suspect it’s our unpredictable snow cover, and wet periods in winter. Hardyness zones should be weighted with other factors like winter moisture and snow cover, as well as spring freezes. Most cyclamen like to go dry for the summer, so if you get summer rains and lots of humidity, that too can be challenging. Others, however, even in Zone 5 claim that C. hedrifolium is easy and self seeds.

In my cool greenhouse I grow 20 species of cyclamen with the greatest of ease, in fact, I’d say that they are rather carefree. Seedlings even germinate in the ground and in other pots as ants often get to them first, and move seeds around. In the greenhouse I allow plants to go dormant in spring, keeping them bone dry under glass in elevated sand plunge benches. I search for seed pods that are opening in May trying to get to them before the ants do (each has a sugary coating which makes the tempting to ants, who often distribute them due to this feature). I pick seeds once plant go dormant, and I sow the fresh seed into pots with dry soil right away in June, not watering them until September. just when the tubers are beginning to sprout new buds. Fresh seed is key however. If you buy seed from Etsy or questionable seller, you may experience slow or no germination.

All cyclamen species seem to share the same germination requirements, but flowering time with species is different. Most species bloom in autumn (most of mine do), with C. coum blooming in winter, and C. persicum in late winter. In my greenhouse the last flowers are on the wild collected seed raised plants of C. persicum, which look nothing like the hybrid florist ones. I love the wild species, as it produces a ton of flowers, and gets better with each year.

Cyclamen species can be long lived. I recently inherited some 40 year old tuber of C. rholfsianum from a friend, some tubers are over 1 foot wide. Some of my C. graecum and C. hederifolium have tubers that are over 10″ in diameter. With time they can become heritage plants producing hundreds of flowers.

I repot bulbs in July when they are dormant, and in some years, I can see tiny flower buds already forming. In some years, plants begin blooming in mid-August, and in other years, as late as the beginning of October. The tubers respond to shortening days but also to the arrival of the autumn rains (in Turkey, Cyprus, and other Mediterranean countries) and also to temperature shifts as nights start to get cool in late summer. It’s the magical combination of these environmental triggers that stimulates the tubers to begin growing.

If, by chance, you are attempting to keep a florist plant through its dormant period, a few notes. NEver cut the foliage off until it dies back completely in spring. Allow the pot to become dry, at which time you can repot the tuber into fresh soil. Start watering it in late summer, look for new growth. You may want to target September 1 as the start date. If you are lucky, leaves will begin to emerge, but know that with C. persicum, flower buds come much later in the season, probably in late February. Try to keep the plant in a cool, very bright window. They will sulk under lights where it will be too warm.

Lastly, know that many cyclamen enthusiates cherish the foliage variation more than even the flowers. A C. hederifolium with a skinny, arrow-shaped silver leaf might be viewed as more collectable than one that looks like the traditional English Ivy. But really, is there any Cyclamen leaf that is ugly? When I choose my florist cyclamen, particularly the dwarf ones, I first look at the foliage pattern, as that will last longer in a display than the flowers will.

In closing, cherish your holiday cyclamen plant knowing that it’s life will most likely be short. You can try saving it for a longer display period, but expecting it to bloom for a second year is unrealistic and, actually, not recommended. If you have a cool greenhouse, do try growing the species cyclamen. If you live in a climate with a mild winter? Definitely try some hardy cyclamen outdoors (especially if you if in the mid-Atlantic or Northern California, the Pacific NW. I am jealous! The rest of us should just try our best to keep a gift cyclamen in bloom through the New Year, and then move on with our lives.

Don’t, forget to write that guy who says that you can start cyclamen from a leaf cutting and tell him that he’s crazy, wrong, and to stop posting fake, made-up methods. I mean, really? Do it.

The post Success with Cyclamen appeared first on Growing With Plants.

Over the past three years I’ve been growing various annual vines in containers, trying about 6-8 different varieties of the most commonly found annual vines, each year. As you may have discovered yourself, annual vines like morning glories while beautiful and easy to germinate, can, and do, grow too quickly and with such vigor that they can, and will, get out-of-hand often before they bloom. Yet other annual vines are more tidy and manageable. I wanted to see what vines were the most manageable, and which ones were the most beautiful as a container plant, and which ones are best left to the trellis or telephone pole.

I remember reading in an old gardening book once that one should always approach vines with caution. They are biologically coded to be opportunistic, but that makes sense once you observe vines growing. They are simply designed to race up objects quickly to reach the canopy so that they can get sunlight and attract pollinators. I was reminded of this while botanizing in western China in 2018 when I saw clematis growing on a hillside in the Himalaya, often nearly completely covering the horizontal limbs of evergreens – looking more like a snowstorm had dusted each fir tree with a coating of snow. Clearly, clematis are designed to ramble through shrubs and trees more than they are designed to climb lamp posts.

I grew all of my annual vines in 14″ deep 12″ diameter clay pots (from a discount store at $9.99 each). These were perfect as I could set in 8 or so 3/8″ bamboo stakes that were 5′ long along the diameter (starting by spacing them like the hours on a clock, 3:00, 6:00, 9:00. etc, or like cutting a pizza in to 8 pieces). I then would tie them at the top with twine to create a thin, teepee-type structure.

Knowing how your vine ‘climbs’ is helpful, as sometimes you may need to add bird netting or chicken wire – even wrap the entire teepee with twin if the vine climbs by using tendrils (like grapes or sweet peas), while other vines naturally twine around the support, such as with morning glories. Then, there are vines with do neither, like nasturtiums – especially the yellow-flowers canary vine, which sometimes use their leaf-stems to twine (the petioles) or they prefer to just tumble and creep over branches in the wild. These will require more help such as hand tieing new growth with soft yarn or garden twine to get things going.

I tried to focus on the most common annual vines that any of us can find on a seed rack or in a seed catalog, but I also tried a few more focused trials – particularly with sweet peas, and other annual lathyrus, just to see what they would look like if grown in pots. Out common cut flower sweet peas – Lathyrus odoratus, the Spencer varieties and the old fashioned cut flower sweet peas, which not ideal for growing in pots, did do well if the pot was larger than the 12″ pots I first tried for the more rare, or unusual species. I will say that the species surprised me with how small many of them were once mature, and how unique the foliage and even the seed pods were – often even more interesting than their flowers were. The only downside was that they bloomed early, and only for a week or two, then set seed and died. Not a long-live potted plant.

The cut flower types of sweet peas fared better in some 24″ clay pots and particularly the ones that I grew in an old 1940’s metal cooler (with holes drilled in it). These grew taller, on an 8 foot tall tomato cage, and did so well, that I may always grow some sweet peas this way.

An excellent choice for 12″ pots would be any of the Black Eyed Susan Vines, particularly the newer selections (like those found with registered, licensed names from brands like Proven Winners). All are fine, even the varieties you can start from seed indoors, under lights, but the better colors do seem to come from the newer selections. These not only grow quickly, but so aggressively that you will only need one per 12-14″ pot. One plant will send out dozens of shoots and quickly cover a 5-6 foot tall teepee. These tend to always look neat, though once they reach the top, you will need to retrain them down or prune them often. They can quickly take over any nearby teepees or shrubs if they touch them.

Morning glories, and their relatives may seem like a natural first choice, but proceed with caution as most will out grow a pot before mid summer, especially the species. I will say that the Japanese varieties (called Asagao in Japan) do make excellent potted plants (you know, the striped ones, and even many dwarf and mutations available on eBay). There is an entire culture around growing these in Japan, where, like bonsai, they are grown in smaller pots and pruned heavily, often keeping teepees to only 14″ tall. I’ve grown many morning glories this way, and while the method even works with Heavenly Blue and other common varieties, it’s labor intensive as you know how fast morning glories can grow. It’s best done with the variegated-leaf Japanese varieties, however, but that merits another post.

There are some species of Morning glory however, which I did try. This year, I grew the wild species Ipomoea hederifolia var. lutea , a species that was completely new to me which was incredible, blooming all summer long, delighting the hummingbirds and forming a cloud of tiny, tubular yellow blooms that were about 1″ in diameter. The only problem was that the vine quickly outgrew my 14″ deep clay pot by mid-June, so I had to plant it out. Sliding the entire root ball and bamboo caned, which by July 4th were already completely covered with foliage and twining stems into my shrub border where it completely covered a Black Prince, eventually killing it by smothering it, but totally covering it with a cloud of yellow blooms that made the effect something that I want to repeat every year. There is a red species now that I want to try next year, which seems similar, I. coccinea.

The Spanish flag vine, has always been a favorite of mine. I mean, cmon, ombre! It almost doesn’t seem real, but it’s a good candidate for pots as long as you know that it won’t bloom until late summer, and it too can get a bit out of hand, though not as aggressive as let’s say a regular blue morning glory might be, even though it’s related. Once taxonomists listed it as Mina lobata, but it sits firmly in Convolvulaceae, the Morning glory family, and is properly known as Ipomoea lobata.

Some of my favorite annual vines remain the most common. Sky blue morning glories, like ‘Heavenly Blue’ is pure nostalgia for me, as it reminds me of my dearest aunt (Aunt Ann) who lived in New Jersey, and grew it on her chainlink fence behind her home. It was a tiny, long garden in Trenton, but full of plants., such as was my grandfather’s garden was nearby also in Trenton. That was where I first saw a passionflower vine growing, behind my grandfathers chicken coop. He was nearly 100 years old in the early 1980’s, and didn’t speak much English, but he wanted to show me the passifloras when they were in bloom. I should mention that they too are good for large containers, but I didn’t include them here as they aren’t true annuals (even though we grow them that way up north).

I have to admit that the finest display came from the Purple Bell Vine, Rhodochiton atrosanguineus. IT used to be hard to find, but I find seedlings occasionally at some local Boston area nurseries. Like most vines, it’s not going to be in bloom when you find it available as a seedling, and young plants can look rather weak and unpromising. All I can say it get it, if you find it, for few plants put on such a show. My towers were so attractive this past year that I set them around the garden as objects, even loaning a few to a clients garden photoshoot for a story in Architectural Digest. They are that attractive. You can grow them from seed, but it takes some patience.

Sow seed in February, under lights and keep them warm. Transplant carefully into larger pots in spring, and eventually set the young plants into a big pot such as my 12 to 14″ long toms with 5′ bamboo canes. It’s a twiner, which helps, but every bit of this plant looks lovely, from the burgundy backed foliage to the amazing flowers that almost defy description. It starts blooming when young, so it just about always looks good. Best to start with new plants every year, though, as it is hard to winter over successfully in the north.

The Love in a Puff Vine (Cardiospermum halicacabum) is a true old fashioned, if not heirloom plant that is fun to grow for its puffy, inflated seed pods that each contain a few of their distinctive seeds – each with a tiny beige heart them, hence, where it gets its name. Granted, it’s not a vine for everyone, as it can look weedy or too casual for many. I love it, as I’ve seen it grown to great effect in urns set into the center of an herb garden at an estate in the Hudson Valley, and on a trellis in a friends garden. You just have to be prepared for rampant growth, which is graceful, and know that one doesn’t grow this plant for it’s inconspicuous tiny white blooms, but for the seed capsules, and the overall effect – a tangle of stems and foliage, which can look attractive in the right sort of setting.

Side by side, pots of vines displayed in a row can also be attractive. Each year I line a few walks and paths around the garden, or leading to the greenhouse with potted vines being trained onto bamboo teepees. I allows me to grow a number of vines in a small space, and I know that I can cut back any that get too unruly. In pots, the blooms are brought to eye level, but I have to say that more and more, I am attracted to the foliage than I am to the flowers.

Nasturtiums are naturally vines in the wilds of South America, but most have been bred to be shorter plants, yet a few remain – true heirlooms and worth playing with, to add something different to the garden. You may already know that I collect many of the tuberous tropaeolums from the Andes, and grow them as winter-blooming vines in my greenhouse, but there are some very easy annual tropaeolums, from the veining nasturtiums (like the one sees every spring at Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner museum) or the overlooked Canary Vine, which you can still find in good seed catalogs.

Easy to grow, the Canary Vine (also sold as Canary Creeper, or the Canary Bird Vine) has large seeds like the nasturtiums you already love, but it is an aggressive grower, and probably not my best choice for a container unless you have a bigger one – let’s say 24 -30″ wide. It dislikes drying out in summer, which can kill a vine in just a day (believe me, I know) and the foliage can yellow practically overnight if you let it dry out. The vine can be very effective if grown in a large pot as long as you have something for it to climb on. I’d say that it’s better if planted into the ground, though. It’s not a twiner, no tendrils either, so it’s best climbing through twigs or over a shrub. I once planted a big parrot cage that we had left out on the deck (when our Parrot Kojo flew away). WE hoped her would return, but a canary vine took off in a large pot, so I set it inside the parrot cage (seemed ironic at the time). It completely covered the cage which was about 4′ x 6′ on rollers, and became quite the spectacle.

Another morning glory relative which is slightly better behaved, is the Cypress vine, or Cardinal Vine. Closely aligned with Ipomoea x multifida, and related to the red flowers I. coccinea, this annual vine will quickly cover a tower in a few months from a sowing in late May. I sow all of my Ipomoea species and selections near the end of May, as they are rapid growers, and really don’t need a head start. Do know that in the south, and in warmer zones many of these morning glory relatives can be considered to be invasive, as they self-seed and can spread, so check your local restrictions before planting.

Vines in pots will be like trying to raise three teenage brothers. They will fight with each other, and try to dominate each other constantly getting into trouble. Try your best to raise them independently but sternly, training them almost every day (as they’ll forget) and then enjoy the results of your labor once they reach maturity and bloom. It’s may seem like all is lost, but be firm, and don’t be afraid to control them a bit.

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We, gardeners, are all familiar with the genus Nicotiana. While we may not know that was named for Jean Nicot, a French diplomat in 1559 . Mssr. Nicot first saw a tobacco plant shortly after it arrived in some plant collections made in South America a few years earlier. Convinced that is had medicinal properties, he presented the plant to the French queen, Catherine de Médicis, as a remedy for her headaches. Apparently, her resulting endorsement (which frankly might have been more of an addiction than anything else) made Nicotiana tabacum quite famous. It didn’t take long for the famed tobacco take hold of those who loved it, , and cultivation spread across Europe and shortly later, back to North America, where it was already a well-known drug and ceremonial smoke to indiginous tribes.

I decided to trial a few newer selections this year after reading about how older selections were once widespread conservatory plants in the 19th century. This interested me, as I never thought of Nicotiana as a potted plant, at least as a conservatory plant. Older books often talked about estate gardeners growing individual plants to perfection for spring and summer displays in glasshouses and conservatories (think: Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum). You know, I love that sort of challenge.

After some (well, lots) of research, I found that the plant was also recommended for culture as a potted display plant in cold or cool greenhouses – so now I was interested. 

Nicotiana was typically a plant that I grew from seed only occasionally. I more likely would just buy a few plants from good growers or pick up a few 6 packs if the colors interested me. If I sowed from seed, it would be a more casual affair, sprinkling a few seed (always thinly, I knew that much) in a pot, pricking out and potting up later in spring for a few spots in the garden. They always seemed to perform well, but honestly, I could never say that I fussed with them or even followed any complex instructions other than what I already knew (bottom heat, bright light, and don’t start too early.

What caught me attention in one book was that the author suggested that I sow seeds in November or December for blooms in April. Of course, this was a British book, and was informing those who owned cold greenhouses in the UK who wanted early display material, but hey – I had a cold greenhouse. While I live in New England (not Old England), it should still work.

I selected a few varieties to sow very early (at least for me), in December.Since light levels are low in winter here, and the greenhouse is too cold.

‘Night Flight’ appealed to me because of it’s size and promised 6′ height, something I tend to look at first as I like tall annuals. It’s was also said to have intense fragrance, which was so true that it surprised me many evenings, as I looked for “what is that smell?” believing that it was indeed a jasmine. I am rarely that fooled. ‘Night Flight’ is also unique from a performance perspective. It’s truly night blooming, opening in the evening when it’s highly fragrant, and the blossoms also lift up at that time as if to emit more scent. I would often think that they were wilting during the day, and the lack of daytime fragrance often caught me off guard when I asked guest to smell it at noon.

This is hybrid between Nicotiana alata and Nicotiana forgetiana. ‘Night Flight’ was offered by Select Seeds, and it seems only by them, so maybe it’s proprietary to them? 

I’m a sucker for brown flowers, so I had to try a selection called N. ‘Hot Chocolate’ as well as N. ‘Bronze Queen’. Both, selections that include my famed, self-seeding green-flowered N. langsdorfii in their genes.

Another N. langsdorfii crosss called N. ‘Starlight Dancer’ (N. langsdorfii x N. alata’) a white flowering variety with loads of blooms made my January list. N. alata itself, is often called ‘jasmine tobacco’, so yeah – fragrance was promised. N. alata itself is a long-time favorite around here. ‘Starlight Dancer’ is a relatively recent introduction, a hybrid from the Netherlands. It can grow up to 4 feet tall so yes, height appealed to me. 

I did add at the last minute, two popular shorter-flowering species, purely for beauty. The clear purple strain ‘Perfume Deep Purple’, which is an AAS winner. (N. x sanderae), and N. ‘Lime Green’ with similar heritage. After all, I am not a prude. One must have simple, awesome beauty. These bloomed later as I sowed them in April and May, but they lasted until…frost.

I started these under lights in the house. Contrary to what many winter-sowing folks believe, Nicotiana do not require any stratification or cold temperatures to germinate. They may re-sow or self-sow, surviving a harsh winter, but they certainly do not want nor need feezing temperatures. Seed will not germinate until the soil temperatures reach 72° F or higher. 

By December and later, January sown seedlings emerged within a week. I covered seed with a light coating of fine vermiculite as soil can dry out in winter quicker, though seed sown outdoors will germinate best if sprinkled on the surface. Seeds are tiny.

I knew that most species of Nicotiana look similar when not in bloom. Any differences are subtle and don’t appear until the plants begin to form flowering stems or buds. This means that you must label seed flats as it’s easy to get confused. I discovered that I had to label individual pots, as I grew the varieties and even then, I have to say that things got mixed up so I created a parking lot of confused, unmarked pots. If you’re growing a few under lights, this won’t be a problem if you keep individual pots set inside of another flat.

It is also worth noting that nicotiana plants, especially seedlings but also young plants have surprisingly brittle and clingy leaves that are sticky to the touch. The stick to one another and will rip or break easily if you don’t take great care when separating them.Another reason to sow seed thinly, and to repot when the seedlings are still tiny. And believe me, they are tiny. I over-pot them, meaning that I left out a 1/2 inch wide seedling and set it with the tip of a plant label into a 3 or 4 inch pot. 

Nicotianas are hungry plants. too. I used both a balanced Osmocote, and a liquid fish emulsion weekly. As I often do, not only do I look at old books, I compare those with contemporary science and research. One of the best places to look for information are on professional grower or culture sheets (just Google Nicotiana Culture Sheet). I used those from Florinova, but most provide good basic information in regards to temperatures and fertilizer. Be prepared for these pdf’s to suggest ridiculously high concentrations of fertilizer, which of course, I don’t follow, but it’s helpful to know if a species is sensitive to magnesium or an abundance of nitrogen. All too often I see unfounded recommendations on sites such as “just use seaweed” or “Epsom salts will do the trick”. Luckily, Nicotiana aren’t that fussy, and either a balanced feed (Miracle Gro) or even a fish emulsion will work fine. Pro’s use a 20-10-20.

Temperatures should be warm during germinations (75° is ideal) and 70 while growing one when young, so I kept seed trays under lights until mid-march. After that, 65° F is ideal and while nighttime temps dropped to 50 in the greenhouse by then, once transplanted, all seedlings were kept in the greenhouse. l

Plants were all grown on in progressively larger pots as soon as roots started to emerge from the bottom. As spring progressed, and the greenhouse became warmer and the days longer, plants started to grow larger and faster. I completely understand that not everyone has the luxury to grow annuals in this way, but it does teach us that with care, some of even the most common annuals can excel if grown carefully at home, even if you start them under lights in your garage or cellar and just sow them later.

Pot size was key to success. I learned that seedlings must be transplanted young, before they become too large (before three pairs of leaves). If you want incredibly tall and stunning Nicotiana, avoid letting roots touch the edge of their pot. I know this sounds crazy, but if you’ve observed self-seeded plants in the garden, you can clearly see the difference. Once nicotiana become pot-bound there is no recovery. Plants will be spindly and they’ll that bloom too early, on hopelessly short stalks.  Unfortunately, that’s what we typically find sold at retail, and no cutting back, pinching or spreading the roots will help those recover to match the performance of those grown without root binding. I kind-of knew that, but never really believed it.

I upgraded some to 8″ nursery pots, and other were kept in 6″ square plastic pots. A few of the ‘Night Flight’ variety though began to meet the promise of 6 foot plants, so I moved them up to 12″ clay pots, one per pot – clearly overkill, but they responded so well, that I started to move more plants into larger pots.

I started to run out of room, but the results of moving plant up into larger pots did confirm what I had expected, and what the old books all advised – that Nicotiana will sulk if kept pot bound (again, think about those nursery 6 packs where the root ball is entirely white with roots). Nicotiana are also sensitive to plant growth regulators, but I also know that commercial growers could not possibly deal with 4 foot tall seedlings. We’ve all seed nicotiana in-bloom at the garden center in 6 packs, often that’s all we can find, but while they perform just OK, I knew that self seeded ones were always better. I wasnt all that surprised.

I did pinch a few back, which surprised me that it was advice in these old books, and while the final effect wasnt as elegant as the first, tall single stem, the plants that I did pinch did produce side shoots and many more blooms. I might pinch if I planned to set out plants into a mass planting in a border, but I tend to like the natural look of unpinched.

Clearly I grew too many, but the results were interesting. Most noticible were blooming size and overall plant habit in relation to pot size. All species and varieties bloomed weeks earlier on significantly shorter stems if they were kept in 2″ pots. The plants that were in the largest pots continued to form rosettes of gigantic leaves for many weeks before they started send up their first main flowering stem. These stems did reach up to 6 feet tall as promised, looking more like those self-seeded plants that would pop up in my garden.

In the garden, these more mature plants bloomed profusely in June and early July, but they did peter out by the end of July. A few that were cut back did rebloom, but the effect wasnt even close to that first rush of bloom. My later sown plants (the purple and lime green) bloomed well all summer. In the end, I again noticed that my self-seeded forms were still the most agressive and strongest growers, but they didnt emerge until mid to late June, which tells me that I could sow outdoors as late as the summer solstice in June. All the plants that were started in the greenhouse produced tremendous but early shows, but they all required staking and failed to continue after mid-summer.

All of this tells me that we shouldn’t start Nicotiana indoors at all unless we want early blooms. We should not use the winter sowing method as that is just bad horticulture, but we could sow seeds in seed trays and pots in June, which is when they really want to germinate. These grow very quickly. I will do both, sow some under lights in January but primarily for early greenhouse color in April and May, and for some spectacular outdoor beds in June and early July. My second crop will be sown outdoors in June, that will replace those that are fading. 

I will add that all of my methods this year were usable and produced far better results than any plants that I bought at garden centers or nurseries. The only exception are those that I buy from a few specialty growers (like Bunker Farm in Vermont or Walker Farm Stand also in Vermont) who truly know what they are doing as they sell small seedlings in larger pots or 6-packs. Maybe you have a grower like that near you, or better yet, order some seeds now and experiment yourself!

By May, I could tell that pot size and fertility affected performance. The seedlings that were transplanted into standard 2.5″ modules, pots or six packs were all starting to bloom even though they were less than a foot tall. The seedlings transplanted into 3″ pots weren’t much better, but had foliage that looked healthier. Plants in 6″ pots (one per pot) looked far better, were at least 4 feet tall and were not even beginning to form flower buds yet. Plants in 12″ pots had foliage as large as cabbages, and were forming central stalks as thick as 1″ in diameter. I’ve never seen such a difference with an annual.

The post My Surprising Nicotiana Trial Results appeared first on Growing With Plants.

My last post, (which was surprisingly this past February) proves not only how busy I’ve been, but how time can fly by. First, just so you know – I’m mostly posting to my Instagram account lately (mostly everyday). So if you need more updates than my blog offers, follow me at @matt_mattus on Instagram and see what’s happening in the garden, greenhouse and sometimes in the kitchen.

My 2022 trials we as obsessive as usual, but perhaps even mores this year as we were honored to have our garden included as a Garden Conservancy Open Days garden in May. If any of you have participated in this event, you know how time consuming preparing ones garden for a tour can be. OK, I know it’s already October, but even though our tour was in May, it was well attended (sold out in 24 hours) and for about a month and a half after that, we were just wiped out. Then, summer hit full-on, with drought, heat and then COVID for both of us (we’re fine, just mild but exhausting symptoms) and the one garden client we have required much attention for a big photoshoot – more about that later. Anyway, time flies, and I don’t think that I’ve ever skipped so many months posting to this blog. Maybe blogging itself is changing as well, in a world of faster social media like Instagram? Please let me know you still read and follow this, or if you prefer a different medium (Podcast, video, something else), as that will help me decide where to share.

I’ll bet that very few people grow, if even care about the old fashioned annual flower called Salpiglossis or bearded Tongue, but to follow through from my last post, this year I decided to try various techniques and methods, most of which challenged what one will find on the internet or even in books and seed catalogs. Cultural information for more uncommon annuals is often incorrect – I really don’t know why other than this information is often second or third-hand. I would bet that many garden writers research via the internet, Google search or via the latest books, and to be fair, many freelancers are on a tight deadline. I’m really not trying to be critical here, but instead – simply honest. My guess here is that some cultural information is just passed along via respectable sources (university sites, seed companies and in gardening books) but rarely are they challenged or researched deeply. My findings may still be incorrect, but after three years, I am getting extraordinary results with a few annuals, and this Salpiglossis trial is confirming some surprising findings.

Briefly, Salpiglossis information from seed to flowers often starts with germination advice that is contradictory. Germinate dark, surface sown, sow seed 1/4 inch deep, seed needs light or complete darkness to germinate. For years I used to follow directions from a very trusted book on raising annuals – I covered surface sown seed with tinfoil, kept trays warm until seeds germinated. While I don’t know where this information originated, it may have come from early seed collectors who noted that in its native habitat, Salpiglossis sinuata grows in a unique coastal climate where the marine air is cool, frequent fog and overcast in winter, but the seed drops down onto a rocky surface where it is shaded. I should note that my research is certainly flawed, I usually try to look backwards through history to see where a plant is native to, I make notes about the climate there, and how it relates to the plants natural cycles. Salpiglossis is unique in this case. Still, there is no excuse for such contradiction when it comes to germination advice – and some seed packets from large seed companies offer contradicting information printed on the same packet in different locations.

The above image shows my reward for following directions, both from two old books (reviewed in my previous post). I couldn’t believe that my tiny seedlings would grow -with great care, but not all that much effort – into what the books once promised – 4-5 foot tall plants, some as tall as 6 feet tall. If you’ve ever tried growing salpiglossis in your flower beds from seedlings bought at nurseries, you know how unusual this is. I wanted to figure out why nursery plants often topped out at 1.5 feet tall – maybe 24″, and what were we doing wrong.

I used a number of sources for both seed and cultural advice, but the 2021-22 seed catalogs offered only a few varieties of salpiglossis. It seems the few breeders only introduce a strain that is interesting every few years, and most seed companies default back to the old standards. This is understandable as so few of us grow salpiglossis. It’s not a great cut-flower, and a good majority of home gardeners don’t even know what it is, let alone have actually seen a plant in bloom before. Thumbnail photos are often misleading, and many might just write it off as another petunia-look-alike (it is released, however, as salpiglossis is organized within Solanaceae, along with petunias and tomatoes).

I should also add that while I had success growing salpiglossis following the cultural advice often found on-line or in books (surface sow, but keep trays in complete darkness until germination), I always found that even if I catch the seedlings just as they have germinated, they would still be too elongated and never seemed to recover. Not to mention that I always wondered why such advice existed, as it just never made sense. I found that the very old books (19th century) often suggested covering the seed lightly, but my mind was changed once I started downloading professional grower guides supplied by the major seed suppliers (where seed catalogs get their seed from). These guides are written for commercial growers – often plug growers or wholesale nurseries who depend on raising healthy crops of bedding plants. While often not helpful for home growers, as these can be complex or offer information such as feeding schedules that are in code, or parts per million, they do offer some valuable bits of advice, one of which was soil depth for seed sowing which was 1/8 – 1.4″ deep. Not surface sown.

I germinated all 5 packets of seeds indoors, between January and early March to see if timing made a difference. seed pots and flats where sown thinly, covered with fine vermiculite at about 1/8 inch deep, and set under high intensity, full-spectrum LED lights in a spare bedroom. The warm, indoor temperatures were beneficial and it’s a method I’ll do again as it worked much better than heating mats outdoors for me (maybe because the temperature differential from day to night was measurable, and not consistent.).

Professional grower sheets provided another clue, and that is as with snapdragons and sometimes pansies, the seed trays and pots were allowed to dry out between watering. This is a critical step for salpiglossis, as they tend to be weak rooted, and dry medium forces roots to go searching for water, and thus, nutrients. Drying out between watering to a point of slight wilt also stimulated seedlings to grow denser and produced stockier seedlings.

Fertilizer was also key, as salpiglossis has some demands and sensitivity as with petunias and snaps. I used the recommended amount of a Cal-Mag feed (you can find it under the Peters or Jack’s Brand on Amazon sold as Petunia Feed. It’s hard to find at retail offered in small amounts, as most sources only offer Cal Mag in 50lb bags for professional growers. It’s a must for growing snapdragons, pansies and petunias). You an find more info about the benefits of using a cal-mag feed here https://www.gardenmyths.com/cal-mag-plants/ and you can read here https://www.greenhousegrower.com/crops/petunia-finished-production-tips/ about why snapdragons and petunia seedlings require cal-mag feeds.especially if you use an acidic potting mix (peat based) or coir based. If you’ve ever tried to grow snaps and found the leaves starting to yellow while still very young, this is probably why. All the Miracle-Gro in the world won’t turn them green. (note: Not all flowers or veg need additional calcium or magnesium, and while these elements aren’t added to regular fertilizers, and not always needed, I’d avoid using home made solutions (such as Epsom salts and eggshells). Epsom may work if you can measure it precisely, but it still will need calcium to work well, and egg shells aren’t a good choice for seedlings due to the year, or so, required for eggshells to decay and convert to usable calcium).

Another good tip came with when and how to transplant. Salpiglossis dislike root disturbance or better yet, root restriction. They like a free root run, and seedlings will sulk and bolt if pots become root bound, as in nursery 6 packs – one of the main reasons why I think nursery plants in small modules are often don’t perform well. I can understand why nurseries grow their annuals this way, it’s easier to grow all of ones crops the same way, but unlike their kin snapdragons or petunias, where extra fertilizer applied to even tiny pots, will still produce strong, yet root bound, seedlings. One benefit of keeping salpiglossis in small modules rootbound, is that they’ll bloom younger, which obviously has its benefits as most consumers want to buy a plant in bloom, but buying a salpiglossis 6 pack with flower buds will do you no favors. They’ll bloom for a few weeks, and maybe reach a foot or so tall, but then that’s it. I wanted to see if I could produce those 5 foot tall plants with dozens and dozens of flowers that the old gardening books promised. As you’ll see, I did, but it took the luxury of greenhouse space, and daily coddling.

I potted young seedlings up into larger pots as soon as they formed their first or second pair of true leaves. The older texts suggested a final pot size of 9″, so I began transferring into 3″ and 4″ pots at first, so that I could easily dry out the pots between watering, but then moved them up to 6 and 8″ pots. I thought that these might be the final size, but plants began to grow so large that I decided to upgrade 12 of them to 12 and 14″ deep clay long-toms. I used Pro-Mix BX as my primary medium, and continued a seeking Cal Mag feed if I could dry the pots out slightly (this depended on the weather). I quickly learned that the larger the pot, the better the results, but what surprised me was that while plants were growing tall and branching well in the largest pots, in the smaller ones, and especially those seedlings that I kept in 2″ 6 packs, that were root bound and fed the same diet, they began to form flower buds and bloom early at 9″ tall. These looked more like the typical seedling I would find at my local garden center.

Clearly the best results came from plants in the largest pots. I did pot some containers with 3 seedlings, but these didn’t grow as large as those did in the 14″ pots. Kept in the greenhouse, the leaves grew lush and large, requiring 5′ bamboo stakes one the central stem began to extend. I pinched some, which was advised, but found that the most elegant look came with those that were not pinched, and it seemed, just as many blooms. I relocated some plants outdoors around June 1, but that subjected them to an infestation of leaf miner, that ruined many leaved with their winding paths, just like spinach that was planted nearby. I removed most of the leaved, and moved all plants back underclass where the seemed to not mind the high heat on sunny days (near 100° F) if watered daily.

The post Salpiglossis Techniques and Trials appeared first on Growing With Plants.

On a single afternoon, while double-checking cultural information found on a seed packetfor salpiglossis, I became confused. I had been working with some known facts, though. Mainly that Salpiglossis was one of those plants whose seed needed to be germinated in complete darkness, and most internet searches confirmed this. At least, at first. It wasnt until I started looking at some older books, a few new seed packets and then newer books when I became really confused. I even found contradictory information found on the same seed packet – so I went down the rabbit hole on a journey to find the best source for how to grow salpiglossis. I should add, that I also will provide the right, or perhaps better way to grow salpiglossis from seed. It wasnt as easy and as clear as I thought it would be.

Look, I get it. Who wants to actually grow salpiglossis? So clearly, this post is for those who are bored with what they are growing, or who may have failed with salpiglossis in the past, or for those who might be trying to grow them for the first time and who ended up here from an internet search (I hope so – as not only are salpiglossis worth growing, you are going to become totally confused if you start looking for advice elsewhere.). Those who know of me, know that I try everything myslef until I can master it. I’m never going to just wrtie about how to grow a plant from information that I found on an internet search. I only will write about it if I can provide photos of my own studies and attempts (and sometimes failures) and never will I write about it unless I’ve tried and tried again to grow it well. My guess it that most people providing advice have not grown salpiglossis from seed. Just a guess.

Just try this yourself. Google the phrase, “How to grow Salpiglossis.” Most of the advice, at first, will all sound the same. But look deeper. In the past, while I found all sorts of advice I eventually settled on what I felt were my most trusted sources, both of which suggested that the seed of salpiglossis should be surface sown, and covered until it germinates and both included the unusual method that Salpigossis must germinate in complete darkness. An odd bit of advice, for something that needs to be surface sown, but why argue with the experts? I mean, other plants within Solanaceae sometimes need darkness to germinate – at least it;s been proven for Schizanthus, for example – and thy too are from this part of South America. It must be true, right? Not exactly.

Ive grown Salpiglossis on and off through the years, always following the advice provided in my go-to book on growing plants from seed – the late Wayne Winterrowd’s (not out of print: Annuals & Tender Plants for North American Gardens). Still, an excellent source, but clearly he too found the same incorrect information for Salpiglossis, as it’s often repeated in old gardening texts – I mean the most trusted books. Yet I always get confused with the ‘surface sow, but in darkness” method. It just doesn’t make sense. Still, I know that a few plants do require this – most are desert plants (some cacti) or others where the seed falls deep into rocky crevaces, where it might be dark. In it’s native habitat, it appears that Salpigossis does grow in a harsh, if not unique environment with rocky soils that experience frequent mists, but still, with all of my research, I could not find any factual information. To make matters worse, the deeper I looked the more contradictory information I found – usually from seed catalogs. everything from sowing deep, to surface sow. SOme advice refrigerating seed, others, not. Again, this idea that seed must be surface sown yet kept dark -(as the belief is that light inhibits germination) was always problematic for me. Tiny seeds means tiny seedlings, and more often than not, they stretch out so quickly – even in just a day or two if I cover the trays with black foil – that the resulting seedlings suffer. Then, last year, I decided to research they ‘why’ and where’ about such advice. As I usually discover, the answer is never clear.

I will spare you all of my discoveries, but I will share right now that my two most trusted sources advice the exact opposite treatment. Mainly, the culture sheets provided by the largest seed producers available as downloadable PDFs to professional growers, and from an old yet very accurate germination study book – both clearly state that Salpiglossis will germinate at 70° F with bright light and a light covering of a substrate. No chilling of seed, no blocking out of light. I will add that this is not unusual with hybrids, which all Salpiglossis seed is today. The darkness/surface-sown method might be required for the true species if collected in the wild.

About Salpiglossis

Salpiglossis or Bearded Tongue is not a commonly grown annual flower. I think for a number of reasons, it’s fallen out of favor, which I understand from a mass-market perspective. Most casual gardeners might not be interested in growing them, for they arent going to put on a show all summer long with no care needed. Yet, there are some of us who either through boredom, or curiosity, do want to try something different. So we try things that are new, maybe just because we’ve never really seen them offered at the garden center, or maybe because we’ve never even seen one except in a photo and salpiglossis is one such plant. My theory is that they remain uncommon for a couple of very good reasons. 1. Even if you find plants available at a good garden center, they never really take-off in the garden. and 2. The seed is fussy. Regardless of what you read on a post or on social media, Salpiglossis is not ‘easy to grow’ (it’s not impossible, but it’s not easy).THat said, they are certainly growable. If you’re capable of following directions (yes, just like making puff pastry) you can do it.

Salpiglossis seedlings from a winter sowing can grow floppy unless one can provide long day length (14 hours) and brightest light conditions. These were in my greenhouse in March, and grew more lanky than they should have. I now keep young plants warm, under lights indoors where the light intensity will cause rosette foliage to first form.

A true old-fashioned annual, Salpiglossis was first introduced to North America in the early 1820’s so it isnt exactly a new flower. Paxton’s Dictionary described the earliest collected species (S. sinuata) in 1823 and shortly after, in Curtis’ Botanical Magazine in 1826 wrote about plants being bloomed in England. This species is still the major parent from whichmost hybrids come from today come, although there have been some complex hybrids. Early 19th c. selections (such as the now lost ‘Barclayana’) were pale yellow with plum and brown stripes, similar to the wild species. An early hubrid from England ‘picta’ which expanded on the pale yellow with lum purple stripes and S. straminea (Hooker) which was described as being distinctive purple-red stripes on a creamy-yellow base in 1834 near Edinburgh. Most of these descriptions still sound and look (in engravings) like earlier selections made from the wild species, which can range from a silvery-cream base with violet stripes to a deep plum color and golden throats. I would add that one new selection (now hard to find) named ‘Gloomy Rival’ looked rather similar to the wild forma and the branchy, smaller flower might be the new trend – especially for floral designers and garden designers. I know that I prefer this habit, and I’;m hoping that new selection like ‘Cafe au Lair’ first offered this year, will provide.

By the turn of the 20th century, early hyrbidisiers transformed the species into what we today (or maybe what our great grandmothers’) would still recognize as a salpiglossis. The new hybrids haven’t changed much in 100 years. The color palette was broadened around 1900 to include bright golden yellow, deep plum and velvety purples, maroon, orange, red and magenta. All with a golden or veined, netted throat that is often striped brown. Honesty, an odd color palette when viewed together in a garden bed but rather lovely when viewed in a conservatory or greenhouse when grown as a potten plant. Maybe because one can organize the pots better by color.

Today there are a handful of selections that remain on the market, and occasionally a few new selection – two that take advantage of the current trends and style of brown and grey flowers. (the newer introductions that are brown, tan or buff, in particular, a new selection from the Japanese firm TAKII called ‘Cafe au Lait’ (name a salpiglossis after the world’s most popular dahlia and maybe it’ll become popular?). It can be found from a few seed sellers this year (Baker Creek and Select Seeds). Some of the darker-flowers salpiglossis, often marketed as ‘near black’ are unsuccessful in the garden (retreating into negative space and shadows) but as a cut flower or as a potted plant, they are effective. I’m not convinced that Salpiglossis will ever become a popular cut flower crop though as the stems are sticky (like nicotiana) but is used correctly, they might be of interest.

How to grow Salpiglossis

Sowing Seed

Contrary to what you may read, salpiglossis does not need complete darkness to germinate, nor does it need to be surface sown. Ideal methods advise one to sow seed either 1/8″ deep or surface sown but covered with a medium like vermiculite to 1/8 deep. Some light should still be able to reach the seed, as intense light encourages seed germination. Start indoors, in warmth around 70° F. No need to refrigerate or chill seed. Salpiglossis demands intense light (2000-3000 foot candles) so I move my High Intensity full spectrum LED light close to the pots. Sow seed thinly, either in plug trays, flats in rows or in 3 inch potsSown this way, seeds germinate in 4-5 days. Quicker if you cover the seed pots with plastic wrap to increase humidity.

Seedlings can be transplanted once they have formed true leaves into individual cells, modules or 4″ pots. Ideally, if gown cool and allowed to dry out between watering these tricks will control size, speed of growth and to stimulate seedlings to form rosettes of foliage which is ideal. This form will naturally happen if you sow plants in late summer for use as a winter potted plant in a cool greenhouse, but spring grown plants for early summer blooms will still benefit from a wet/dry wet pattern until the plants are set out into the garden in May. Nursery plants are often mis-grown, treated as petunias or other bedding plants in 6 packs. Retailers want to bring them into bloom while still young as most people are not familiar with what they are buying, or want certain colors. If you happen to find salpiglossis at your garden center, try to buy plants that have not yet begun to bloom or ideally, ones that have not started forming a stem yet. These, if set out into the garden will produce the longest stems with branching. ,

Growing-On

If growing at home, spring can be challenging especially in a greenhouse as one sunny day can raise the temperatures into the 90’s which will harm or set-back many South American annuals like Salpiglossis, schizanthus and others. Strive to keep plants cool, not cold and not hot. Try to get pots to sit at 55 – 65° for as long as you can, but always in bright light or full sun. I often just keep my seedlings in 3 inch pots (one per pot) under lights in a spare bedroom until April, as I can control the temperature more with less differential from day to night. Salpiglossis seedlings will suffer if they experience temperatures above 85° F until they reach blooming size. Once in the garden, I’ve had plants survive through 95° F weather. Always try to provide a larger pots for unrestricted root growth, as with nicotiana, as well as a higher and more frequent fertilizer program than you might be comfortable with. Until set into the garden, practice the drying out between watering method as one would do with snapdragons and pansies. This, combined with a continual warm environment will help plants stay bushy and not elongate too much. Once plants begin to show flower buds, then switch to a watering regimine that is more constant – never allowed to dry out, and always move dead blossoms.

Salpiglossis grow best in areas with cool summer temperatures. Here in New England they do well in most summers even though it can become very hot and humid, but home-raised seedlings are the most resilant. FInd a location where plants can get partial sun (just in the morning or a few hours in the afternoon) as that would be an ideal location. Soil should remain goldilox moist, not soaking wet, nor allowed to dry out completely, ever. This might explain why my potted Salpiglossis (especially in the fall and winter when they are in the greenhouse) seem to perform much better than those set out into the garden in summer and grown as one might grow zinnia or cosmos. We don’t have an irrigation system, but a drip irrigation system might be ideal here as long as it doesn’t get too wet.

Fertilize

I tend to look at commerical culture sheets showed me that as with snapdragons, fertilizer makes a huge difference with the success of a Salpiglossis crop. I should have figured this out on my own, for the entire group of solanacea are fussy about fertility. This also includes petunia, snaps, Schizanthis and even unrealed Violas or Pansy. Home grown from seed plants rarely will look as nice as nursery plants for this very reason. These are crops that all require special fertilizer. You can’t just say “Ill grow organic’ or ‘Ill just use fish emulsion’. These are crops that demand specific micro nutrients, and low or high amounts of key elements. They all require a low phosphorus fertilizer (like Peter’s Petunie FeED which you can find in smaller containers on Amazon). I always get a small container but this year I orderd a larger bag by another manufacturer for use on all of these seedligns. I was getting sick of raising snapdragons that had toothpic thick stems, always feeling inferior to those pencil thick stems I woudl see at the garden center.

Peters Petunia FeED is just a suggestion (and know that there are other petunia feeds by other brands) all include chelated (ED) iron (the Fe) and other elements not found in most fertilizers. I think most people don’t know that the big wholesale growers have this all figured out, but a search of the various mixes on a greenhouse site will show you that you don’t – just look for a lower second number in the analysis like 15-5-15. Most annuals will grow just fine without fertilizer, or with a balanced one ,even one with high nitrogen like fish emulsion, but when it comes to a few like petunia, callibrachoa, pansy, snapdragons and related clan – it’s all about the CalMAG types of feed. The micronutirents found in specialized petunia fertilizers are chelated manganese, zinc and copper. Chelated minerals like these, while costly to produce, are essential for good plant growth in these plants within solanaceae but also with pansies. It might seem crazy to buy a specialized formula, but the commercial growers all do, so it’s good to know.

FACT RECAP

Sow Salpiglossis in mid-February indoors, under lights at 70° F. Cover lightly with vermiculite.Light benefits germination with Salpiglossis (<2500 F.C), so only cover seeds lightly

Do not refrigerate seed, no need for con stratification (although wild collected seed might need chilling).

Keep seed trays or pots warm, 68-72°F directly under lights – take care if using a heat mat. Cover with plastic wrap to increase humidity

Use a timer on your lighting unit as salpiglossis requires day length greater than 14 hours, and 16 hours is ideal. This will greatly improve seedling quality and reduce stretching.

Once cotyledons unfold, begin to withhold water, almost wilting between watering. This is an important step that commercial growers practice as it reduced floppiness and encourages growth that is sturdy. Salpiglossis trays should become dry between waterings.

Begin feeding seedlings with a 1/2 strength 15-5-15 bi-weekly. Propert fertility is key with salpiglossis in cultivation.

Try to offer plants the absolute brightest light you can as plants mature. 3000 F.C. is ideal, or keep trays close to HID bulbs, or greenhouse.

Location, site and containers

Salpiglossis was often grown as a fall container crop for displays especially in late winter and early spring in estate conservatories and botanic garden greenhouses. Today this is rarely practiced but occasionally you may see them at good botanic gardens like Longwood where capable gardeners can fuss with them.

They do make excellent potted plants in winter for cold greenhouses, but even better in large tubs outside. Salpiglossis will naturally perform best in areas with cool summer temperatures (Vancourver, Atlantic Canada, Maine) but also as a winter bedding plants in California or Arizona perhaps. Elsewhere, we try it every other year or so as. garden and potted plant (potted together by itself as a specimen plant, not combined with anything else). In New England it perform well if one can obtain properly grown seedlings that have not yet formed flower buds, and are small enough to transplant into large tubs or the garden. I grow large colonies in our Painters Garden, which receives partial shade and the plants bloom all summer long, reaching 24″ high. The hummingbirds can’t resist them.

In the garden they perform best with partial shade in our humid climate where it can become very hot (90° +). Excellent displays often peak around mid-July and fade off unless the flower stems are cut back, only then will a repeat bloom happen in September, but usually we just pull the plants. Few annuals offer the grace and colors that Salpiglossis can, and if sited where the setting sun can back-illuminate the flower the trumpet shapes can virtually glow where the golden throat pattern looks as if its an electric light.

VARIETIES

Most selections today are complex hybrids, they include:

Superbissima blend (not truly an heirloom, but from the 1980s)

Grandiflora Mix (a generic mix that usually is comprised of F1 hybrids

Friendship series

Royale Hybrids F1 (Floranova)- but offered by many retail seed sources

Bolero F2 A good performing blend

Casino Series – Perhaps the most popular with garden centers.

Splash Mixture

Little Friends (Sahin 2001) Shorter plant, bushy, for bedding

Cultivars :

Kew Blue (introduced in 1985 Sahin) – a nice, need purple, but use it carefully in the garden as it is very dark. Better in pots.

Black Trumpet(Baker Creek)- So tempting in photos, but rather blood-red if not a dried meat blood color in the garden..

Wild Grape’ – Annies Annuals -Reportedly from wild collected seed, but that’s questionable as it’s a selection.

‘Wild Orange’ Annies

Chilean Black (JL Hudson) – perhaps the same black as ‘Black Trumpet’

Cafe au Lait – fleuroselect  (protected for 8 years) new novelty color intro bred by Takii Europe. Marketed not as a cut flower or as a nursery annual, but strictly for home gardeners as a novelty color

Gloomy Rival – forgotton selection 2019 select seeds grey/silver petals. hard to find right now.

The post A Comprehensive review of all the wrong ways to grow Salpiglossis found on the Internet. appeared first on Growing With Plants.

2021 proved to be a record breaking year wherever one gardens. While gardeners are notorious about complaining about the weather 2021 proved to be extraordinary across much of the planet. Usually I brush off little brushes with irregular weather – after all, I live and garden in New England – but last year proved to be noteworthy in many ways.

Without going into great detail, for us, June brought record-breaking heat as it did across much of the US and along with it, drought, which continued from the previous year. My sweet pea plants seemed to suffer right from the start, but since I had a feature article being planned for Fine Gardening magazine, hundreds of plants were set out in tidy rows in hopes of an epic photoshoot later in early July.

In late May our heat wave began, and while a few days near 90° F aren’t unusual by early June, consecutive days near or over 100° F was unheard of. In an attempt to keep the pea plants cool I placed sprinklers in the beds to cool the plants down during the hottest part of the day. Sweet peas prefer temperatures that are both consistent and cool to avoid bud drop and while I expect bud drop (yellowing buds that drop is normal in the first few weeks of June when nights are typically cool and day temps high), this time I could see that it was going to be different. Just as old gardening books advised (but I had never seen before) the water from the sprinklers basically cooked the new emerging foliage which looked as if I had dipped then in boiling water. Any buds naturally dropped off as well.

By the time my date for the big photoshoot came about the weather had shifted to another record breaking cool and wet period, but the plants never recovered. A few dozen blooms arrived early in late June, but by July the weather changed for what seemed like a welcome wet period with cool temperatures, but there can be too much of a good thing. By the third week of July we had 24″ of rain and one sunny day. Typically this would be ideal sweet pea weather, but it was too late. The plants never produced any more flowerbeds. I’ve been raising sweet peas since the late 1980s and this has never happened before. Out came the pea plants and in went dahlias that I had been keeping in pots until then.

By mid-summer it was clearly a record-breaking year in many ways. The never-ending rain caused another problem that I had never seen before – denitrification. The lack of oxygen in the constantly soggy soil made nitrogen unavailable to many plants. Additional fertility had to be added, but again, it was too late for most plants. Hundreds of cosmos, zinnias and other annuals that might be considered fool-proof that were sown in June and set out as healthy, robust young plants in July all stopped growing, and eventually just rotted. Tomatoes in conatainers never set fruit – out of 36 plants we had only a handful of tomatoes, although, the hot weather in June didn’t help as tomatoes won’t set fruit if temps are over 96° F. What fruit did set, seemed to succumb to blossom end rot.

There were plenty of wins though, so it wasn’t all bad news in 2021. Other than tomatoes, other container plants enjoyed the wet weather (hey, I really wasn’t complaining given what California and the west was dealing with this year). Rain every other day meant that I had to fertilize pots more, but I hardly had to water anything.

Clearly I haven’t been posting much in the past year, mostly this was due to transferring what is an already content-rich blog from Blogger to a new WordPress platform, and me learning how to navigate an entirely new system. I think that I finally have it all here, and while I am still learning all of the bells and whistles (ugh- SO many bells and whistles now!), I think I can begin to run with posting. It’s just hard learning a new process after the older one became innate for me. SO please bear with me.

In the next post I will cover some of my favorite wins from last year (yes, there were plenty), and while none of them will feature squash or tomatoes, get ready for some new and exciting flowers that I never knew existed as well as some great container plants that maybe you can use this year.

The post Looking back as well as toward the future appeared first on Growing With Plants.

The annual vine known as the Cup and Saucer vine is beloved by many gardeners. Their large, cup-shaped purple or white blossoms and their distinctive flaring corollas look very much like teacups. Many of us never really think about that, like. Like so many familiar garden flowers, the Cup and Saucer Vine or Cobaea scandens belong to a much bigger clan – it has many close relatives within the genus CObaea, all native to South and Central America. However, most if not all are still relatively unknown or even discovered.
I decided to do a deep dive on the genus cobaea (or at least as deep as I could grow a few of the more hard-to-find species). My real goal here is to solve many people’s problems when trying to grow Cup and Saucer Vines. If you’ve even had trouble with germinating or getting plants to flower, then maybe you’ll find some bits of information here useful.

You know me – I like to ask the obvious question first. For example: Why does nearly every garden writer repeat the directive: ‘Sow cup and saucer vine seeds vertically. Go ahead, google “how to sow cup and saucer vines” and see. I suppose there might be a good reason, but honestly (and botanically), I can’t imagine why, as no botanist nor peer-reviewed journal of Botany seems to be able to back it up. Seeds don’t land vertically on the soil in nature.

Oh, and while you’re snooping around for advice, you may also notice that there is a wide range of suggested depths that one should plant the seed ranging from surface sown (because some writer once wrote that the seed needs light to germinate) or 1/2 inch deep in total darkness. Which method is correct?

Now, before I address all of that, a few facts to get out of the way.

Cobaea scandens (the common Cut and Saucer vine) isn’t actually an annual at all; it’s considered a tender perennial (but tropical). Just a fun fact, really, as this shouldn’t change how most of us grow it.

This is one of those tropicals that just must be grown as an annual in cold climates, but it should serve as a warning to those in warm-winter climates where the plant is a well-known invasive. As with any vine, plant with caution – stand back, they run.

Cobaea scandens isn’t even new, though some might think that it is. You might call it an heirloom because it was once more common than now, though a new gardening generation is rediscovering it. Like the ones I am showing here, other species are rare, if not impossible to find – yet. I am just sharing some to show folks that there is diversity in the tribe, and maybe some plant breeder will do some work with the genus.

Cup and Saucer Vines are quick-growing when started from seed, and while some may read that they require the short days of late summer or Autumn to bloom, this isn’t true. Cobaea is considered to be ‘day-neutral plants – and unlike their neighbors that also grow in central America (morning glories, zinnia these are plants that don’t respond to a shorter photoperiod. Cobaea must be mature enough to bloom. As such, must produce a certain number of leaves during a period of summer with high ultraviolet light (as in Central America). Thus it is believed that light intensity and maturity stimulated plants to bloom.

Some gardeners believe that they can trick the plants into blooming earlier in the summer by starting earlier (and perhaps they could if the vines are allowed to grow long enough under strong, full-spectrum lights) but who like the room? For a 20-foot vine indoors?). Generally, cobaea will bloom naturally near late summer, anywhere between mid-August through September until frost. In fact, seed sown in February and seed sown in late May bloom around the same week in September for me in Massachusetts.

On Pinching
Another myth exists around pinching plants trying to make the plants branch or remain a manageable size. Pinching isn’t necessary at any stage as it’s a seriously vigorous vine even if left alone. It will branch multiple times left to its own devices. Some gardeners feel that they can train cobaea to a short 6-foot teepee by doing this, but plants will most likely suffer from such restricted treatment, resulting in yellowing foliage and few blooms. It’s simply not a trainable plant. Cobaea needs height and room, and plenty of both if it is to grow well.

I think the pinching advice began when people started sowing seeds too early indoors, soon discovering that plant quickly became unruly. Pinching is fine, but again, only if necessary. I’d say that if you need to pinch your plants before setting outdoors than you probably sowed your seed far too early.

I would advise pinching plants once you set them into the soil outside where they grow, though. This will help stimulate lower branches which might be handy if you are trying to cover a fence or a low, long structure. Know that cobaea’s natural habit to want to grow up and over something big (like a tree or over a brushy cliff). It wants to produce 12-15 foot long stems before it forms flower buds. I rarely pinch our plants as they grow on 1″ diameter black mesh that is stapled to our porches which sit on a 4-foot foundation. Our vines must first grow up 7-8 feet before they are expected to branch, which they have no problem doing in rapid order all summer.

Can I Grow Cobaea in Pots?
Safe to say that Cup and Saucer Vine is not a good candidate for most containers. I Can grow well in a large tub set at the corner of a sturdy arbor, but it’s far too vigorous for a small pot or even for a window box. Believe me, we’ve tried, and not only did our lower story windows become covered by mid-summer, so too did our second-story windows.

I have heard of some gardeners attempting to grow Cup and Saucer fines on a teepee – on bamboo canes, but I can’t imagine them having much success. I may have to try it (I grow plenty of annual vines on teepees, and while most become too crazy by late summer, I can get some blooms). Still, with cobaea, I would imagine that there would be few flowers and that the volume of foliage and leaves would be too much for the entire structure.

Rare Species
I obtained some seeds of newly discovered and rare species of Cobaea a couple of years ago. My favorite species to grow so far was Cobaea campanulata which had beautiful lime green flowers smaller than C. scandens but had longer stems. The best feature with this species, though, was the seed pods that looked like torpedos and were very ornamental as they hung straight down with their weight, like Christmas ornaments. The foliage, though, was far too rampant – it truly nearly took over our house on two and a half floors in just one summer. It shut in windows and even encased a screen door on the deck, locking us in.

I also grew a newly discovered species C. pringlei, but it only produced a handful of blooms that looked like white, waxy versions of C. scandens.
I had a seed of C. paneroi, another new species, but it only produces a couple of flowers, yet plenty of foliage that seemed to take over our house (and it’s a big house!).

The genus cobaea is much larger than you might imagine, with 18 species at least, but the most common if not the only species you will find is C. scandens – the traditional Cup and Saucer Vine. It does come in an all-white variety (alba) and the more traditional purple one. Know that all C. scandens begin green, then white, and then turn purple as well, as the flower ages.

How to grow Cup and Saucer Vines
Start with knowing where you are going to plant your cup and saucer vines. As the most vigorous of any annual vine sold as seed in packets, never underestimate their size. Morning glories are a close second, but if given a race, a cobaea will always win and take over even the most rambunctious morning glory. Believe me; we’ve raced them on our gourd tunnel.

Remember that they are a tendril-producing vine (like grapes) and not a vine that twines (wraps around) a column, cobaea grow more like sweet peas, producing thin, twisty tendrils that only wrap around fragile materials such as twigs or netting. As such, you may need to tie stems to thicker pieces of wood if, for example, you are trying to train them up a post to a trellis. Once they reach the top of their structure (like a trellis),, they will grow madly entwining in and out of each other.

New gardeners often discover this fact when they try to grow cobaea in a pot thinking – let’s say with three bamboo canes in it. Unless your canes are 8 feet tall or more, you are more likely to end up with a hot mess. They really need a wire or plastic mesh wrapped over a very tall structure or against a fence or wall. We staple black plastic 1″ diameter mesh onto our 16′ high porches, which looks terrible in early spring, but they become completely covered with cup and saucer vines by August and then flowers in September.

Can I grow Cobaea indoors?
In a greenhouse, yes. In your house? No. You might be able to winter over a plant you have dug up in a cold cellar window, but cobaea isn’t a plant for the indoors.

Wintering Over Vines
In the 19th, vines grown on some of the bigger East coast estates were often cut back near a hard freeze in late October, and their crowns dug up, potted, and brought into a cool greenhouse for the winter. Savvy gardeners also sowed seed in early summer directly into the soil of a conservatory where vines would bloom effortlessly until the New Year (such as at the Isabella Stewart Gardener Museum in Boston).

Raising Cobaea from Seed
Cobaea is generally seed-raised, but there are many bits of misinformation out there about seed, starting when it comes to Cup and Saucer Vines. Much is it is myth or lore, and the truth is told, Cobaea seed will germinate just fine if it is fresh (collected and stored properly from the previous year) and if the seed is sown just under the surface of the soil, kept warm near 70 and lightly moist. No-fuss really. That means no soaking, no wrapping seed in a polybag of medium and refrigerating it, no chipping the seed, and no special way to set it into the soil. Those are ‘tips’ that are unnecessary steps.

What about sowing seed vertically ,again? Why do I keep seeing this?

I don’t know where it started, but I guess this is just one of those tales passed along from gardening books to gardening writers over time. It appears nearly everywhere, though, so it may have started in the late 19th century as I found a source in an old 1878 seed catalog suggesting it. If anything, early texts suggest that the seed can rot, but then greenhouses were kept much cooler than germination chambers are today (usually under warm lights indoors).

The bigger question I asked other botanist friends was, does seed orientation matter? It does for very few plants (like coconuts, for example, or lychee fruit, but any benefit from setting flat, papery cobaea seeds on their sides only gave me furrowed eyebrows and a clear “It doesn’t matter.”.

Some home gardeners like to pre-soak or pre-germinate many large seeds like peas, beans, and morning glories. While it will help a seed coat absorb water and start the germination process a day or two sooner, it’s always considered risky as you can and will damage the tine root hairs on the radicle, and aside from the task being fun or seeming like a science project, few if plant scientist would recommend it.

What about soil depth for Germination? OR light?
I’m often asked this: “Don’t Cobaea seeds need light to germinate?” No, they don’t. In fact, some commercial growers recommend sowing seed three times the depth of the seed, while others suggest 1/16″ deep. Others advise that the seed needs to be half-buried in the soil. Bottom like is to sow seeds 1/8-1/4 inch deep, and you’ll be fine.

What about those who say to pre-germinate seed in paper towels?

Pre-germination is never considered good horticultural practice. The damp paper towel method might allow seeds to germinate a day or two quicker because of the consistent moisture, but these same seeds would have germinated in the soil as well. Great for teaching young children about seed germination, though. But practice it with beans. If you have poor Germination, it’s most likely because of temperature or, more likely, seed quality. Your seed may be old and too dry.

Do Cobaea seeds need temperatures warm to germinate well?
Yes. At least when germinating and while growing in early to mid-summer.
Plant seedlings outdoors once the soil is hot (60° F) (when you plant tomatoes) or even later—no need to hurry.

Do I have to soak or file the seeds first before sowing? Or soak seed?
No. Never chip seed either. This is risky and not necessary with Cobaea.

Why aren’t my seeds germinating then?
It could be soil temperature (try to keep them warm to near 70° F), or you most likely have poor seed. Seed quality is a common issue with Cobaea as so much of our ornamental seeds come from China or India. The best way to know that you have fresh seed is to buy seed from a big seed seller (Burpee, Harris, Parks, etc.). Cobaea seed that is greater than 2 years old will have poor Germination. If your seed is brittle or dry, it may be old. Even if I save seed and keep it in a jar in my closet, it becomes too dry to stay viable.

Seed not germinating? Don’t feel bad.
That said, Cobaea is just notoriously fussy to germinate as it is, so don’t feel bad if you are getting low germination. The best way to ensure a good number of plants is to order seed from reputable seed sources (real seed catalogs), not eBay or Etsy or private seed sellers – and try a few sources. As an invasive plant in many parts of the world, opportunistic seed sellers might be selling old seeds they found in a park. You never know.
To quote my germination guidelines book: ” germination patterns are varied and complex with cobaea. It is of much value to know the exact pattern.”
As an invasive vine, I wouldn’t say Cobaea are not difficult, but seed viability can be irregular, especially if not fresh.

What about pinching seedlings?
Pinch if you need to, but unlike sweet peas, pinching will only cause early branching (ok if you want to cover a smaller object), but it won’t cause flowers any earlier. If anything, vines may grow more vigorously if you are pinching in a pot, and you risk causing too much growth about the size of your container.

Are Cup and Saucer Vines pollinated by Bats?
Well, Yes, in South America they are but not in North America. Don’t worry; you aren’t going to attract any fruit bats. Flies are known to pollinate them here (they’re stinky), or you can do it with a paintbrush or feather.

What about flower color? Why are my purple Cup and Saucer Vines blooming with white or green flowers?
Flowers on Cobaea start greenish-white when immature but mature to a deep purple flush, depending on sunlight. There is an all-white flowered selection sold simply as Cobaea scandens ‘alba’. It’s a good choice if you want all-white blooms.

Is there anyway to get my Cup and Saucer vines to bloom earlier?

I’m not sure what the answer is, but shoot down a few more myths about this – once again, Cup and Saucer vines are not short-day plants, yet they still like to bloom naturally in autumn. It’s complex, but the vines need to produce enough foliage before they bloom, and this foliage requires high light quality with UV light, as found in India or Mexico. Remember, these are tropical perennials that we are trying to grow in a northern climate, most likely. They need to reach a certain age before they bloom, and in the north, seed-raised plants get going in late summer – it’s just how it is.

Is Cobaea winter hardy?
Not below zone 9 -10, but…they are rather cold tolerant in autumn. After a hard freeze, I often have our porch covered with vines growing and blooming in October, even way past Halloween. Sure, some freezing happens but only on the leaf tips. We’ve had vines survive and bloom with snow on them. Still, Cobaea is not winter hardy. I’m guessing below 26° F might do them in completely, at least when the roots freeze.

Can I save seeds from my Cup and Saucer Vines?
Sure, but the challenge is getting pods that have enough time to fully mature. I can rarely get dry, papery seed from my pods as my cobaea here in Massachuetts rarelyo bloom until September 1.

A mature pod will be dry and papery, as the seeds are wind-dispersed. It’s probably best to buy fresh seed every year, as the few times I have been able to save dry seed from other species of Cobaea, the seed dries out too much in the winter – I suspect that it needs to be cryovac’d or saved in a climate-controlled device with the proper level of moisture.

When should I start Cobaea indoors?
Late winter or Spring is fine. I sow my seed on May 1-15. You can try earlier, but it isn’t essential as the plants’ won’t start to speed up growth until late June once the sun is brighter. As I’ve said before, I’ve sown Cobaea in April, May, and late June, and they all bloom at the same time no matter what. No need to hurry.

If you live in a tropical climate or near the equator, cobaea can be planted at most anytime.
Old New England conservatories often listed Cobaea as a winter plant, but it seems mostly as a foliage vine (particularly a variegated selection) or as a roof-shading selection. I know that in India, seeds of Cobaea are planted in July and August for winter blooms and in September for flowers in April, but I am not sure at what latitude they are speaking about. Obviously, they can grow in moderate greenhouses in the winter, but my greenhouse is too cold at 40° F.

In the end, cobaea or Cup and Saucer vines make for a lovely green vine even if they don’t bloom. Yet it’s their flowers that are so fantastical and worth the extra work upfront to get a good seed, and healthy plants started on a hefty trellis or netting.

HOW TO GROW CUP AND SAUCER VINES

Start with fresh seed

Sow in late April through May

Sow just slightly under the surface of the soil

Keep soil at 70° F, indoors under lights

Plant outdoors, at least half day of sun, near a strong trellis or netting after frost has past

Keep watered and fertilize weekly with a balances feed

Expect flowers by late summer

I encourage you to try growing Cup and Saucer vines if you haven’t tried yet. They are easy to grow once you get the seed germinated, and aside from some patience and finding the right structure for them to grow on, they provide an extra boost of fresh color in late autumn and some pretty cut flowers to pick.

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If you’ve been following along regarding the first phase of our big driveway reinvention project, I’m thrilled to share that we are nearly complete. The last of the really difficult trees to be removed has finally been completed (another 70-foot tall blue spruce that was nearly dead and a second one the died a few years ago but was being held up by Bittersweet vines!), so now – nearly a year later, I am onto the landscaping.

Laying in the gravel and granite rock ended just before the ground froze in late Novemeber, and with the winter snow all work ceased until late March 2021. All work, that is except planning – design and plant materials, at least in this household, can stall a project for years as we can often never decide what to get. This was a project that would require a lot of plant material, and much of it would need to meet certain criteria such as providing private once again, be easy to care for as we don’t have irrigation, and be a little bit horticulturally interesting.

This driveway is long and wide, so the plan you see here if mainly for the entrance. While trees were planted all the way down, under these trees will be planted spreading native hay-scented fern that can run wild here between the gravel driveway and the dirt road/gully. Nearly 100′ and 30′ wide, the left hand side space was too long we couldn’t afford to landscape the entire space with flowering matrix planting. Over time I don’t think that we’ll have a problem filling it all in.

In the end we opted for a more traditional design utilizing plants that are perhaps commonly used for landscape materials in the nicer part of suburban Boston but that also would look as if we hired a fancy landscape architect. This approach meant lots of perennials – as quantity would be one part of the strategy. This meant 20 of these and 30 of that, along with a few specimen trees that were perfectly grown (in multiples) as well as an open matrix system.

Not terribly exciting or those of us with more connoisseur tastes perhaps, but I left pockets for more interesting plants to go in here and there so it would look like real plant people lived here. In then end, the look is exactly what I was hoping to achieve. Some four-season interest with the Ilex glabra (Inkberry) selections (6 of two different varieties), a few dozen nepeta selections interplanted with a dozen each of three selections of Salvia nemorosa and a couple dozen Hakenochloa or Japanese Mountain Grass.

The post Driveway Re-invention – Part 2 appeared first on Growing With Plants.

My parents, while not as serious (or obsessive) a gardener as I turned out to, would probably be considered by today’s standards still rather serious about plants and gardens. You’ve probably seen all the photos of my parents’ colossal veg garden and flower gardens from time to time on this blog, and clearly, I got my gene from them.

Old gardens have a way of getting away from you, especially when one has a busy corporate job as I did that required me to travel and commute. Of course – we don’t have kids to help take care of the yard and garden as my parents did with us. For a few decades, my brothers, sister, and I felt like we were just here to work in the garden (probably why I hate hard physical labor today!).

Over time, the second driveway to our house has fallen into disrepair. It always bothered me, but honestly, it just wasn’t a priority.

For much of the 20th century, when my dad and his 7 brothers lived here, there were tall yew and hemlock hedges around the property (16
high before we cut them down). Along this long driveway stood 11 weeping willow trees that while stunning, and considered a showpiece by my dad, were naturally messy and problematic. Over 100′ tall with trunks about 5 feet in diameter, these short-lived trees eventually died or were lost in summer thunderstorms. I don’t miss them.

I was born in 1960, and by then this second driveway included a basketball court, had a wide 40-60 foot section to play in but was unpaved, just hard-packed gravel—all under the magnificent hanging canopy of 100′ weeping willows. My dad would often point out the oriole nests and other wildlife that used the very long willow branches as nesting material. We would tarzan swing on the 30 foot long dangling whip-like branches, but by the late 1970s the trees were growing weak and dying. Storms would often break large limbs in the summer and the sound of chainsaws was not uncommon after every thunderstorm.

A plan to plant spruces in between each tree happened in the 1970s, but these trees always grew weakly, clearly stressed by the competition of the large willows. By 2000 all that was left were about 18 spruce trees that, while at least 35 years old, were not taller than 25 feet and facing all sorts of fungal and insect problems.

Gradually the one gorgeous driveway and the bordering gully on the dirt road just became overgrown with bittersweet, weed trees and poison Ivy. Joe and I moved back here after my job in NYC in 1990 and in 1997 when my mom died, we decided to take over the house. We could help my dad (we said… “he’s 84 years old – how much longer could he take care of this place and still live?” Little did we know how lucky he was to live another 16 years, but along with that came a commitment to stay here.

The second driveway project, as many of my projects seem to be, just evolved into a much bigger project than what I had originally planned. My wish list, ‘honey-do list’ or ‘things that must be done list is always long, and priorities always get pushed around (that’s normal, right? Please tell me that that is normal. In March of 2020 – just as Covid-19 lockdown was keeping us all at home, we started thinking about street presence.

This came about because – horror of all horrors – I was kindly asked to participate in the Garden Conservancy Open Day’s program. It was always a dream of mine to be asked to be a Garden Conservancy Tour ( I think the only one in my city of Worcester, MA) but this also comes with…ugh – the stress. Stress associated with not only preparing the garden for public vieweing, but more about my concern about disappointing visitors. I just imagined people saying things like: “what? I bought a ticket and drove here for this?”. I wouldn’t blame them. Most of the other gardens on these tours are estates and large, designed gardens with gardening staff.

This project began in March 2020, but by early may the tours were only on-hold due to Covid restrictions. My gut was telling me that they will probably postpone or delay the tours in June, but you never know. I started to worry about the pending June 9th tour but by late May, the dates were canceled, and we now had the luxury of time.

I had a strategy, though. The greenhouse and a few of the better-looking plantings would be the focus. Then I would show collections of plants that I was growing, may staging them in containers on tiered plant stands that I had made (crazy me – I grew 18 varieties of calendulas in 12-inch pots as a trial – just because I knew that I could get them to bloom for that date.).

That was the start of my main freak-out, mainly where would people park and what would they see first? What they would see first was essentially a muddy, rut-filled driveway in a very average working-class neighborhood and the front of our somewhat ugly house with a front porch that really should be first on my makeover list, but as of right now, has been bumped to #3 on the que. (It never ends.).

My buddy from high school (who is now 60, but a young 60 like me) said: “hey, I can cut down most of these old, ratty, dying spruce trees if you want. Then all you would have to do is to order some pea stone and cover the mud on the driveway.’
he continued.
“And we could probably do it in about a week.”

“Easy peasy”, I thought. Though, I should have known better.

Sixteen trees turned into 21 trees, and a couple that was in electrical wires, so we just left them. And you know what happens when you cut a tree down – it suddenly looks about 5 times bigger on the ground.
A few other neighbors showed up with chainsaws, and then Joe ran out and bought a new bigger Husqvarna.

I swear – start a project with four guys with chainsaws on a Sunday morning, and suddenly you have ten guys with chainsaws showing up wanting to help. The problem was – most of these guys I wouldn’t trust with a butter knife (sorry Boozer and Bonzy) (real names, old neighborhood).

Geeky me (risk-assessing me) then felt that we needed safety equipment, and not just ladders but arborists with ropes who knew what they are doing. Maybe even real tree guys – those monkey-like arborists who could deal with the taller trees still standing between the wires. Like a prayer answered from heaven, two just showed up as they were out of work for a real tree company due to Covid, and we were able to negotiate a very reasonable price. I just had them ‘fell’ the trees, and I would handle the rest. Again, not knowing what we were getting ourselves into.

At one point, I started this project thinking that I was going to save a lot of money (and not by sending our video of trees coming down to America’s Funniest Home Videos). Still, like most home remodeling projects – things connect and snowball into much bigger projects.

My vision for space didn’t help either. Once the trees were dropped, I started to see the opportunity here. Maybe I could plant something exciting now? But what? A long 200′ fence morphed into a long pleached hedge, and Pinterest Boards started being printed out.

Maybe I would plant a mixed shrub border? Maybe an allee of oak trees? How about something fast-growing and evergreen to again block out the neighbors and get the privacy that we once and always seemed to have?

Yet, before that would happen, I needed gravel, and I knew that I should probably install it correctly or as accurately as I could. This meant calculating how many tons of not only gravel but crushed rock we might need (turns out we needed a lot – 12 tons of each.

Spoiler alert: That’s a lot of gravel.

Plus, we were doing all the work ourselves.
Mike suggested that we not use a wheelbarrow but maybe rent a Cat for a three-day weekend. Thank God we did. The best part was, after three days the company we rented it from failed to come to pick it up. First, for a day or two, we waited. But then used it some more in the evenings thinking that we now had another day (or night) to work. We’d use the machine all night trying to get another 2 tons of rock spread, and then wash off the beast hoping that the rental company wouldn’t notice.

This went of for three weeks.

Grateful, because when the rental company finally called, the man just laughed on the phone. Said he forgot then lost the paperwork, and he apologized for “inconveniencing us”. Good thing Joe didn’t get the call, or he would have tried to swindle more out of him like ‘I can’t believe to made us keep this huge machine in our driveway for a month!”. In the end, it all worked out.

The Crushed rock and gravel were spread 6 inches of crushed rock, even got it compacted by another neighbor who happened to have a steam roller (I called it a steam roller, but felt that it must go by a different name than what I called my Tonka steamroller). Surprisingly, they are still colloquially called steamrollers by most people according to a Google search (maybe ‘Road Roller’ just never caught on.). The 200+ foot drive now covered with 6 inches of crushed rock and 1.5 inches of blue peastone – the driveway looked gorgeous, and I was delighted (but then started wanting more).

When I worked briefly as a horticulturist in the posh suburbs of Boston a few years ago, I always admired the granite cobblestones ‘aprons’ usually at the end of a gravel drive. These could be three stones wide or a dozen stones wide. The wealthiest used Belgian Block for their entire drive.

I don’t know what compelled me, but I decided to install a cobblestone apron at the end that was maybe about 12 feet deep and then outline and edge the entire driveway. Completely overkill for my humble neighborhood, but maybe as the only gay couple on the road we could fulfill our gentrification duty and raise the bar for others to follow.

Honestly, that was more stone than I had imagined it to be, and it was heavy. Not to mention that this would be installed all by hand, with hand tools. Perhaps a bit half-assed, but…we proceeded with winter on the doorstep. With time, I and a friend had prepared the area and set in nearly 3/4 of the Belgian Blocks and Cobblestones before snow fell in October and the ground froze. It looked so nice.

Just after the first snowfall in November, it was mostly done. That would be it for the winter. Landscaping would have to wait until spring, but at least that gave me time during a long, Covid winter to plan and figure out what I wanted to do. Until then, we could enjoy what already looked like a far nicer driveway than we had ever imagined. That said, the landscapable read to the left remained unresolved. It was much larger of an area than we had imagined, and it demanded attention, we knew, as soon and spring 2021 arrived.

End of Part 1.

The post Our Driveway Re-Invention Part 1 appeared first on Growing With Plants.

   Great confustion exists not only amongst us gardeners about what is and what isn’t a scented violet, but also with botanists. Luckly, with recient DNA sequencing the problem seems to have been solved. Yet while we those of us who care about such things will change what we write about and perhaps grow, plan on continuing to see lots confusing and incorrect information about Scented violets both in written media and on social media. Then, of course, there are those countless posts that confuse the African Violet with true viola species. I won’t address that confusion here, as most of us know the differences (they are a completely different plant, not even the same genus or plant family).

In a nutshell, here’s the top-line. There are 300 plus species of viola (pansies and florist violas included), and perhaps thousands of varieties (those different types either hybridized or named as selections by humans) out in the world today. Setting all aside except those few violas or violets that have scent, we are left with a handful of species to look remarkably alike but are very different.

The common violets many of in North America have in our gardens (often as a self-seeding pest) is Viola scoria. You will see this everywhere on-line, from decorating cakes on Pinterest boards to bouquets and tinctures. While edible, it isn’t exactly the violet that was once candied by the French for such use, and it isn’t even fragrant. That would be the Parma Violet, which we now know is properly classified by taxonomists as any number of named selections of a tender Mediterranean species Viola alba ssp. dehnhardtii.

Confusion starts here.

You will see Viola alba everywhere on a Google search, but rarely are the photos or plants the correct species. More often than not writers of some blogs or media posts assume that any white violet in their garden is Viola alba. The true species is more rare in culture, and is tender, doesn’t produce seed and doesn’t spread.

To make matters worse, if you have violets that smell pretty in your garden (in North America or in Europe and the UK) it’s probably the Sweet Violet or Viola odorata. This species looks nearly identical to Viola scoria and other violet species, but it has a strong scent. It also sets seeds and is promiscuous so many color forms exist and some are very lovely in the garden. But it isn’t the same species not plant as those grown by the great violet craze growers in the 19th century, not the same violets that Queen Victoria kept at her bedside nor the same ones grown for the fragrance industry, perfumery, the food industry in candy and extracts, in liquor or candied as candied violets.

I only mention this as you will see many posts out there on how to use your garden violets in any of those above ways. On cakes fresh or even perhaps dipped in egg white and sugar and used on bake goods, you may not be disappointed, but again, not the same thing. Ive even seen some social media posts on using V. scoria or V. odorata in making liquor, flavoring syrups and such, but the results must be disappointing as the rare compound found in V. alba the Parma violet strains is missing – the mysterious Ionone. Once the only source of this fragrant volatile essential oil, now sytheticaly created (since 1910 when it virtually killed the Parma violet trade), and not found in high enough quantities in any other violet.

I continue to be enchanted with what was once a world full of Parma violets, but I suppose those days are far in the past. But why then do I still have such a fascination with them? I suppose its just like living history. To be able to smell something from 1830 is magical, and to be able to grow what once captivated so many is special today.

Parma violets where once so fashionable, at great balls in Paris, at the opera, their sweet perfume must have wafted through the streets amidst coal fumes and vomit. No wonder people loved them. Nearly every western country grew scented violets in the mid-1800s, Russia, France, England, Australia and the US. Near the end of the 19th century diseases began to kill of many of the most treasured strains making flowers hard to come by. Growers learned to extract the necessary chemicals from the leaves of the plants, something that continues today in Grasse France where most cultivars just don’t produce the flowers that the old varieties once did. In fact many farmers have switched to growing V. odorata ‘Victoria’ or ‘The Czar’ instead as it produced more robust plants with half of the chemistry needed, but more plants can be grown. Who cares if the flowers themselves are not as exciting, for only the leaves are needed.

The finest Parma violets had long stems that were strong and intense fragrance with double flowers. Growers often grew them in pots, even in the UK and in the US estates kept hundred of pots in cold frames just for picking. Some old cultivars were said to be able to price 600 -1000 flowers a week. This all came to an end just after the first World War and the 1920s when the violet simply fell out of fashion. What was once the flower for Christmas, Valentines Day or any spring social event, died away and along with it did many of the varieties and growers.

There is a bit of a resurgence in interest, though. Liquor manufacturers are rediscovering violet liquors now being produced again for posh vintage cocktails such as the Aviator, and the perfume industry continues on (violets are said to be used by Chanel in Chanel No. 5) and in the south of France festivals abound in February in towns and villages that still grow violets for the few uses in food, drink and fashion.

Now, my goal is to acquire as many of the vintage varieties again, and grow them, photographing them for a new book concept, and learning the classic cultural techniques for cultivation. I’ve been lucky enough to find two classic vintage books from the early 1900’s on growing scented Parma violets commercially in England, and a book from America from the late 1800s’, as well as finding a source for some plants. Since they have to be ordered in May, this was perfect timing.

Even though I have a few Parma violets growing now in the greenhouse, I will be adding five other named French varieties, and hopefully propagating them for some cut flowers this winter. I find that the idea of recreating a lost cultural tradition such as the presentation of a nosegay of cut parma violets, fascinatingly charming, and exactly the direction that modern gardening should turn to. If one wishes to discover something new and meaningful about plants that others forgot about. Living antiques. Let’s see this autumn, when they start blooming, if I can recreate the success that the French have had, and regardless, I am planning a trip to the Violet festival in Toulouse and Grasse next February. After all – that’s mimosa season too (the flower, not the drink!).

There is much more to be shared about scented violets and Parma Violets, but I’ll spare you all and save that for a future book. There were once dozens of fine, named varieties, most are lost but out a dozen are available occasionally, but are still difficult to find.

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