A store-bought hyacinth repotted into one of my home-made clay pots, helps boost my spirits. My bulbs won’t be ready to force for a few weeks so a cheat bulb here and there is OK, don’t you think? It’s scent is transformative on a January day.

After a 6 inch early January snowfall, as soon as the sun strikes the glass things begin to warm up the first South African bulbs, and mid-season camellias share their show with a colder one, outdoors.

Inside, it’s a bit like summer, which still amazed me. This is the magic one dreams of when one owns a greenhouse. Jasmine vines, lemons and other citrus here are blooming and fruiting as icy snow from the trees behind the greenhouse, falls onto the glass making a threatening noises. I know that I will have to remove those trees next year, as they are getting too large, and too fragile (they are Hemlock trees weak and suffering from the Wooly adelgid infestation). That loquat tree in the center is in full bloom.

Outside, the apple espalier trees are snug as a bug, sleeping under a new layer of powdery snow. These trees will be pruned in February, so for now, they look a bit shaggy with their long stems.

It’s about 5 degrees outside, so even with a bright blue sky and sunshine, the snow on the greenhouse from last nights storm, is slow to thaw and melt. What has melted, refreezes on the sides. It always looks dangerous, but rarely will the snow build up more than a couple of inches, before it slides off.

Inside, the glass defrosts around 10 am, and for about 4 hours, the sunshine warms things up enough, and temperatures can reach 60 degrees. This Nerine sarniensis cross enjoys a sunny Sunday with no idea that on the other side of the glass, temperatures are 60 degrees colder.

On a high bench near the eaves of the greenhouse, where it is warmer, are a few blooming cuttings from a double Nasturtium known as ‘Hermine Grashoff’ – it cannot be raised from seed, as it is sterile, so collectors must propagate it vegetatively. The ice on the curved eaves is on the other side of the glass.

Camellias are the work horses in old greenhouses, thriving in the cold, damp spaces sometimes under benches or in large clay tubs. This Japanese variegated variety (lost tag again!), is lovely, and I was surprised to see so many blossoms on the plant. Each year my camellias blooms in a slightly different way, sometimes earlier, sometimes later, but most peak in February, around Valentines day.

The exhibition chrysanthemums are just about done for the season, and this how the pots should look for a month or two. Set under benches to spend their winter, a few cuttings could be struck even now, but most will be allowed to sprout stronger stems in February when things begin to warm, and these mother plants ( or stools)  will be discarded.

The first pots of Dutch bulbs have been moved to upper benches to force for winter blooms indoors, but the South African bulbs are entering their peak growth period. Every year, the bulb benches look slightly different, which maybe is a good thing. Here you can see Babiana species  (bottom left and center) Another pink Nerine sarniensis of unknown parentage, a precious primula x Kewiness (the plant with the silvery leaves in the center) and some Lacehenalia (with the speckled foliage) on the right, to name a few.

This is a new plant for me – a rare selection of the South African bulb Velteimia  bracteata. This is a form named with the unfortunately boring name ‘Cream Form’. It is available from Telos Rare Bulbs but as most good plants are,  it isn’t cheap. I  think I now have 4 selections in my collections, V. ‘rose-alba’  (which looks like this bloom, but much smaller), V. ‘Yellow Flame’ (once rare, but becoming more available), The classic pink form and this ‘Cream Form’. I still need V. capensis, but not sure that that it would enjoy the cool environment here.

Veltheimia ‘ Cream Form’, showing the overall size of the plant. It is much larger than all of my other selections, and the foliage isn’t rippled or wavy.

I always have enjoyed the winter blooming Kalanchoe species, particularly K. uniflora. This specimen should be in bloom within a few weeks and I can’t wait for its warm, coral colored blooms which will last all winter.

A view of the front bulb bench, with a few tuberous tropaeolum beginning to vine around a balloon trellis, just about exactly like images in those 19th century gardening books.Of course, parlors in those days were wood fire heated, and allowed to drop down to 40 degrees at night, so the environment indoors made their indoor culture more successful.

This variegated lemon is extraordinary – it has pinkish fruit as well! Nearly ripe, I anticipate a very interesting marmalade this year.

The white marble was installed in the kitchen this week. I guess this project is about half complete. The painted cabinets in the back still need to be replaced and basically, everything that you can see here, is still the old kitchen. Maybe by June?

On the new side of the kitchen, I was able to spend some time with vintage books on the new concrete table top.  Having a new place to work and research is so delightful. It was a perfect way to spend a snowy January day.

The post Greenhouse Therapy appeared first on Growing With Plants.

First, the dahlia has made a comeback, second – maybe the gladiolus, third, or at least on deck should be the tuberous begonia – an old-fashioned classic which deserves a revisit, or dare I say, a resurrection, since they are almost forgotten by most who garden today. Let it me known that from this moment forward, I move that the tuberous begonia be considered as the ultimate summer potted bulb (tuber, really) for displays on decks, porches and even fire escapes. Suddenly, ‘showy’ is cool again, and believe me – nothing is showier than a giant, colorful pot of tuberous begonia blossoms in mid-summer.

At Connecticut’s White Flower Farm, a very special offering of tuberous begonias exists – if you live anywhere in the North East – a visit may be worthwhile – for the Blackmore & Langdon strain from the famed UK nursery, is by far, superior to Dutch strains which we so often find at home centers in the spring.

A couple of weeks ago, while visiting White Flower Farm, I was treated to this amazing display of Blackmore & Langdon Tuberous Begonias. I remember seeing this collection 15 years ago (maybe even 25 years ago when I visited with my mom and sister!) , and I was thrilled and delighted that this American nursery still has made the effort to maintain a breathtaking collection of these tubers and plants, as well as offering these lovely (and admittedly, costly) tubers to the American market.

Cheryl Whalen has been tending the collection of tuberous begonias  at White Flower Farm for more than ten years, and her expertise has not gone un-noticed by this tuberous begonia fan. She shared with me that some of these tubers are now nearly 8 inches in diameter.

We can thank White Flower Farm head gardener, Cheryl Whalen who explained to me in passionate detail how she cares for the collection at White Flower Farm. The task isn’t an easy one, which I was reminded of at the end of my visit when Cheryl had to leave a meeting to water the collection for the second time that day. This is an important collection, and it’s beauty comes only from daily care, reminding us of how precious and demanding these tender tubers can be, and why the industrialist millionaires who once kept greenhouses and conservatories full of these plants at their summer estates in Newport and Connecticut, had to reduce their gardening staff’s as well as losing their collections of summer blooming bulbs like these. This greenhouse is perhaps the last collection of an era, and I think we all sensed it’s historic rarity.

Begonia ‘Sugar Candy’ is a large plant that I had to take home with me.

But there is little stopping those of us who care and whom appreciate such things, in sourcing and keeping a small collection of these relics of another age, on our summer porches, decks and poolside terraces. Let’s save the Tuberous Begonia from extinction.

The colors and selection made photographic easy – I mean, there were not bad views!

Tuberous Begonias have always fascinated me. Once common, these summer blooming bulbs (tubers, really), bring forth rather gaudy, flouncy yet undeniably beautiful blooms – so large and perfectly artificial looking, they are almost unbearably artificial with their tenderness. I can also understand why these plants have fallen out of favor in our modern world. They can be a bit too showy for inclusion in outdoor planting schemes, one must start them indoors early in mid winter, and mostly, the good varieties are difficult to find today.

‘Ivanhoe’, a brilliant scarlet tuberous begonia so red, it hurts.

Tuberous Begonias,  have a fascinating history however. Becoming popular during the Victorian era, they fell out of favor after the 1970’s.  The genus Begonia is huge, with many species and even more hybrids with which to temp us gardeners with, but it’s this particular begonia has a complex family tree. It took six species to create this beauty, each plays a role in a pedigree that dates back to the mid 1800’s.

‘Harliquin’ is  picottee form, some of my favorites.

Our large, modern selections began as single flowered wild species which where collected by the British firm Messrs Veitch & Sons in the mid 1800’s for bringing what we now know as the tuberous begonia to cultivation, but perhaps no one is more worthy of thanks then is the firm of Blackmore & Langdon, the British firm which was founded by  two enthusiasts back in 1868. B&L can draw a direct line from the original explorers and breeders, to some varieties which are still available today. Few nurseries or horticultural firms can claim such provenance.

Image of the Blackmore & Langdon Nurseries  fields near Bath, England in 1937 – from the Bath in Time website.

The story of Blackmore & Langdon tuberous begonias goes back to the mid 1800’s when British horticulture reached its peak period of growth. Charles Frederick Langdon (1868 – 1947) and James  Blackmore (1856 -1921), both born near Bath, England, with varied horticultural backgrounds,  founded the firm Blackmore & Langdon  – it was the year 1900. Both men had varying experiences with the new tuberous begonias and some experience with breeding the now sought after plants, yet their specialty at the time leaned more towards exhibition pansies, primroses and especially potted delphinium – each popular estate ornamental crops, which were popular in the era.

‘Midas’, and appropriate name for this golden yellow selection.

The two purchased breeding stock once the new nursery acquired greenhouses, sourcing out breeding stock from the handful of pre-1900 breeders in England. The  catalogs of B & L illustrate how styles change when it comes to plants. The 1901 catalog listed 25 new double varieties, sixty six older double varieties and twenty three singles. The list was expanded in 1909 with ten new double forms, with a total of 144 named varieties. Singles fell out of style by 1910 and the last un-named single was dropped in 1951.

By 1905, the firm became the chief source for new begonia varieties, in particular, tuberous forms. They quality was supreme, and the early breeding accomplished by Vetch and Son’s fell from fashion. Belgian growers around the same time were also breeding and selling tuberous types, most notable the firm of Crousse and Lemon in Ghent, whom after seeing a display of B & L begonias in 1913 at the International Horticultural Exhibition in Ghent decided to focus their breeding on extending the quality of the B & L strains, breeding for larger tubers and even color.

The competition followed popularity throughout the early 20th century throughout Europe and the US. The main rival in the UK became the firm This. Ware Ltd. of Bexleyheath whose head breeder and grower Sam Pope was known as a fine grower and prodigious propagator (known to have rooted more than 15000 cutting each year). Apparently, the quality of the Ware begonias declined by the mid century, leaving the Blackmore & Langdon nursery as the primary global breeder of new and classic varieties of the highest form and quality.

An explosion of color – clearly, there is no wrong way to combine the colors and tones of tuberous begonias.

Like so many plants and flower in the 20th century, breeding halted during the war periods, with greenhouse focusing on food production but Blackmore & Langdon preserved what they called a ‘nucleus of stock’, preserving their genetic work which continues to factor into their breeding today.

America factors in as well, as the firm praised ‘the American Millionaire’ as being part of the reason why the firm survived through World War I.  Before 1913, varieties were named after wealthy British patrons (those whom could afford many gardeners), but the era of the American millionaire “those who had to have the very best and the latest sorts growing on his own estate and who was prepared to pay the highest prices for the privilege – that is, until the stock market crash in 1928.” saved the firm as it struggled after the War.

Thus, Tuberous Begonias could be considered a bit elitist when one considers who one will integrate them into a contemporary garden – but then again, isn’t an herb garden, a topiary or even a potted orchid elitist? Arguably, they were fashionable in their time, and what proper estate owner didn’t want or crave a summer conservatory packed with colorful beauty which required a dozen gardeners to tend to, setting up displays and daily deadheading, watering and staking which tuberous begonias demand. It’s not wonder why they were so sought after, they attention both while in display, and in culture. A collection and display of tuberous begonias meant that you could afford their couture style.

OK, so I admit that tuberous begonias – especially the Blackmore & Langdon strains, are a luxury. They were considered so in 1925, and they still are. The old named varieties which one sold for nearly 42 shillings  might be lost. The pure pink ‘Hilda Langdon’; or the salmon colored Lord Lambourne’ (1923) or even the ‘Corientia (1929) but new standards continue to be introduced by the firm.

‘Harlequin’ with it’s pink, picottee edge looks like candy when set agains this collage of tones.

You may be wondering why American breeders didn’t take over, as California proved to be a terrific climate for raising these often challenging tubers, but the few hybridizes to attempted to take over after WW2 while having early success, eventually failed. American growers seemed to favor un-named varieties. In the early 20th century,  there were only a handful of breeders which included Frank Reinelt, the Brown Bulb Ranch (which eventually became the Golden State Bulb Growers)  and Ketterle & Reinelt all in California. These firms eventually either  closed their greenhouse doors or were bought out by larger businesses but the idea of a ‘family run’ business who actually breeds their own strains in the US is gone.

The most well known American grower was a family nursery in California was the firm known as  Antonelli Bros. They recently closed, with their holding and stock sold to a large commercial grower CalBegonias, who also bought out Golden State Bulb Growers. A fascinating details post from one of the original breeders from Golden State Bulb Growers can be found here.   The photos alone at this site should make your visit worth while.

A Ivory-yellow picottee variety.

CalBegonia may be a rather crappy corporate name, it does speak to the practical aspects of plant breeding today and the economies of raising bulbs and tubers for a global market. Gone are the days of back yard breeders, I get that, and although we can romanticize the independent breeder pollinating flowers every day with a paintbrush, sheet of glass and score cards evaluating crosses, the truth is, few have the luxury to actually do this. Although I have to admit that these begonias may be like buying a dress at Macy’s, while a begonia from Blackmore & Langdon is clearly like buying directly a couture Valentino from his flagship store in Rome. For those who care and know, there IS a difference, however you choose to measure or value it.

CalBegonia claims today to be the largest grower of tuberous begonias, and their selection looks impressive enough, but I can’t agree that they offer the appeal of more choiceful forms found at a specialist breeder like Blackmore & Langdon. I like knowing the family tree and varietal pedigree of my ‘Sugar Candy’ or my ‘Ballerina’. Cost certainly factors in here, and we all can understand the obvious benefits of the mass market wanting perfectly fine tubers of Californian varieties which sell for $5.00 to $10.00 at Lowes or Home Depot in polybags. We can’t be a snob about every plant we choose to grow. But I still want a few choice varieties in my collection as well.

Named varieties will always be more expensive. Factors like speed-to-market, propagation rate (some varieties are notoriously slow to propagate) and the fact that ‘sufficient stock’ which may have been 300 tubers in 1969, may be 100,000 in today’s market. Those varieties which meet all of those criteria will rise to the top of the wholesale growers list. So while a fragrant, 8 inch flowered form with 10 stems which are sturdy and tall may seem irresistible, the fact that one tuber may cost you $70 might cause you to opt for an un-named seedling from California which comes close, but which doesn’t have a name, has 5 inch flowers, and no scent.

There is just something ‘summer-vacationy’ about tuberous begonias. Take cotton candy, saltwater taffy and ice cream, and mix the colors all up, and you basically have the color palette.

If you are interested in raising tuberous begonias, a few words of advice.  First, you can grow either seed raised tubers which are un-named, or those which have some provenance. You probably know where I stand, I prefer good heritage when it comes to plants, and with hybrids in particular or strains. The Dutch have bred tuberous begonias which are fine, and will perform well in pots and in beds, but there is something special about the few named Blackmore & Langdon strains – once one sees them in person, the difference is obvious. Stronger stems, larger flowers, and tubers which can get larger and larger with each year. All that said, many Californian varieties are perfectly lovely, some with reverse picottee blooms, and others with colors just as tempting as the B & L strains. You can make up your own mind.

Expensive? Indeed. White Flower Farm carries both un-named and named forms, and prices will range from around $10 to over $100 per tuber. You can also order direct from Blackmore & Langdon, but the shipping cost may outweigh the cost difference, unless you purchase many. I have ordered both, and come one – you haven’t paid $65 for a single plant before? Just be sure that you save the tuber from year to year.

In the old days, tubers were lifted with stumps (the tops cut off a few inches above the tuber) in the autumn. Tubers will produce flowers until frost (they will look their best in August), but once frost blackens the foliage, they should be lifted from the garden beds, with enough soil and the root ball and set into a flat, linking up all of ones tubers with the soil intact, and tops cut down to stumps, for setting into a cool, frost free space like a cellar (here in New England) or  perhaps a freeze proof, cold garage. This may be the greatest challenge for those with newer homes, but around here, we have plenty of frost free cold spaces. I set mine under a bench in the greenhouse. For tubers raised in pots – I leave them in the pots, allowing them to go dry, and cutting the stems off to about 1 inch.

Tubers stored in this way, can be cleaned off in late January, removing dried growth, roots and soil, and essentially, preparing the tuber for a clean pot with new soil – be watchful for new growth, which may appear as pink nubbins on the concave portion of the tuber, or on the side which didn’t produce roots.

If you do visit White Flower Farm, and don’t want to pay the higher prices for mature tubers, they offer smaller plants, as well as un-named varieties and some Californian strains for considerably less money. You can also bribe some cuttings from a friend in early July!

Starting tubers in late winter under lights indoors is best, for they appreciate warmth and light. Throughout their entire growing season, the greatest risk comes from pots drying out. Most will require daily watering, some even twice a day. It may be helpful to know that these are begonias which don’t demand heat however, as the ideal daytime temperature will be around 65 degrees F, which explains why they do so well in England and coastal climates. However, in North America, temperatures in the summer can reach well over 90 degrees F. which is acceptable, but obviously they will need special care. Judging from the greenhouse here at White Flower Farm, hot temperatures don’t seem to bother well tended to plants.

This ‘Sugar Candy’ is a Blackmore & Langdon’ named selection from the 1960’s. It looks terrific on our outdoor table this summer, but I bring in onto the porch on rainy days to keep the blossoms fresh and dry.

Staking is essential, and even though B&L sells special stakes on their website, most growers use stout, yet short, bamboo canes and soft twine. The stems will become strong and heavy with water weight (like celery or a dahlia stem), so they can easily snap in a wind storm, or become top heavy when the pot runs dry. Clay pots then, are in order. A large pot, 9 – 12 inches is best, and if you are serious about keeping them through the winter (yes, you can and should), you will be grateful for the single-tuber in a clay pot method. It’s best not to pot Tuberous Begonia with other plants, in my opinion.

Since you may have invested a full day’s salary into a single plant, you will want to save the tuber from year to year – some of the tubers in the collection at White Flower Farm are more then 10 years old, and larger than 7 inches in diameter. Saving tubers also may help you feel better about spending $65 for a large, fragrant B&L tuber as well.

Blackmore & Langdon’s UK website is here.

White Flower Farm Blackmore & Langon begonia page in the US is here.

The post The Lost Art of Growing Tuberous Begonias appeared first on Growing With Plants.

Although winter prevails outdoors, under glass, there seems to be no holding back spring. This Primula x Kewensis selection is a very nice one – I can’t believe how many flowers it has open at the same time.

I can’t believe that I haven’t posted in a week, that’s just not like me, but I’ve been busy preparing for a new position at work, which I am pretty excited about. I can’t really say much about it, as it’s just one of those more secret positions again, but it involves futuring, and my new title will be imbedded innovator.  It does mean that I will have a new office in downtown Providence at Hasbro’s new building, with lots of windows and light, which means that I can have plants, so that part is very exciting!

I thought I would share some images from inside the greenhouse today, as even though the official first day of spring happened this week, as many of you know, much of the country is still deep in the clutches of winter, at least, we are here in the North East, with another snowstorm predicted for this week. This is the first year that I can remember, where our Witch Hazels have not bloomed yet, nor crocus, or even snowdrops – the ground is still frozen solid. I suppose that it is good for the plants, since often here in New England, it’s our early thaws and then sudden cold, that kills many plants. Hopefully, once it melts, things will remain that way.

Lachenalia species and some hybrid selections are the current show stoppers in the greenhouse at the moment. This bright yellow one in the center is one which is easier to find in fall bulb catalogs – it’s one of the Lachenalia ‘African Beauty’ series. As easy to grow as paperwhite narcissus, I believe.

Click below for more:

This Lachenalia, or Cape Primrose is a selection of Lachenalia aloides v quadricolor with more colorful flowers, and mottled leaves.

Some Lachenalia aloides have very little red or orange in the blossoms.

I am deep in the middle of seed sowing and repotting in the greenhouse, and the potting bench must be cleaned off daily, so that I will have enough room for seed trays.

The sand plunge beds with alpine bulbs are still blooming, even this late in the season. Typically, most of these small bulbs from South Africa, Turkey and South America are finishing up their season by now, yet this year, many are just showing flower spikes.

Here is a view you rarely see, as I just cleaned out the back upstairs bedroom where we were storing my 100 year old fathers clothes, furniture and bedding. It now serves as a guest bedroom, and my seed starting room, as well as offering a new view of the greenhouse. Yes – that pane of glass is still broken and missing. Curved glass sucks.

Many seeds are still under lights upstairs in this bedroom, such as Celosia, Asters, Peppers and Eggplant – everything that needs warmth and bright light in which to germinate. Some individual germination chambers house more interesting subjects, such as these florist Gloxinia seedlings, Sinningia speciosa.

Back in the greenhouse, this specimen proves why many cool-growing annuals thrive in the conditions provided by a winter greenhouse vs. being grown in the garden outdoors in the summer. A self sown Salpiglossis shows robust and lush growth, something that never happens around here with our summer heat and humidity. Next year, I will just sow new Salpiglossis in August for winter greenhouse pots and display, they way they used to raise them in the 1800’s.

A stiking Kalanchoe flower, which has been in bloom since January, when it was gifted to my by some horticulturist friends from Blythewold Mansion and Gardens in Rhode Island. I sort of like it, for a Kalanchoe!

I know, I am jumping all over the place here, but there is much to catch up on. These Vireya, or sub-tropical rhododendron cuttings are taking root in some Guy Wolff pots. There is nothing like an alpine yellow or red rhododendron in full bloom, and they love the cool temps and moisture under glass.

Lastly, I just had to share these – some prickly mounds of Abromeitiella species, or Deuterocohnia, a small, mound forming bromeliad popular with collectors of cacti and succulents. Don’t you  love their mounding effect?

The post IT’S SPRING, AT LEAST UNDER GLASS appeared first on Growing With Plants.

A BROWN HYACINTH? NOT QUITE, BUT ABOUT AS CLOSE  A PAN IN THE ALPINE HOUSE DISPLAYS A SINGLE BULB OF THE RARITY FROM THE HYACINTH FAMILY KNOWN AS   Dipacdi serotinus,

Dipcadi Serotinus

 In the bulb plunge bed, a sand bed at the front of my greenhouse, a never ending display of tiny pots ( and some not so tiny pots) gets set weekly, it’s where I like to show whatever is in bloom, and it functions as sort of a display bed, if only for me, and the occasional visitor. By spring, the bed gets less and less interesting, as does the entire greenhouse for that manner, as more interesting events are happening outside. The final reset of the display bed happens around May, just after our Primrose party, when the last of the tiny collector bulbs that require protection, bloom marking the final transitional period for southern hemispheric bulbs before the begin the dormancy as the temperatures rise, and the soil in their pots dries out.

A closeup of Dipcadi serotinus shows a little slug slime, but they are not eating the tissues on this plant, which leads me to believe that either it is slightly toxic, or just doesn’t appeal to them.

Lachenalia latimerae

Lachenalia ‘lost label’ It said ‘ L. uniflora’ which it is not. Another reason why I need to start placing vinyl labels inside the pot, too. A new practice I have started this year.

The post Last (and Rarest) of the Winter Greenhouse Bulbs appeared first on Growing With Plants.

DIPCADI SEROTINUM

You can try one by ordering a bulb or two from Paul Christian in the UK when they offer it ( they currently do not have it listed). It reportedly sets copious amounts of seed, but with a single plant, I am not certain that I will have viable seed set. Regardless, I shall bring out the paintbrush and plant bumble bee ( or beetle? Hummingbird?) and get going.

The post A brown Hyacinth? Meet Dipcadi serotinum appeared first on Growing With Plants.

 I went through a miniature narcissus phase a few years back, after reading the book MINIATURE DAFFODILS (1955) by Alec Grey and the book THE NARCISSUS by E.A. Bowles ( 1934). There are many species and named forms of miniature narcissus, but like many plant, or specifically bulb enthusiasts, or, even to be more precise- many narcissus collectors- the most coveted bulbs are those which are most difficult to grow. A challenge, always amps up the desire. And so it is with the true species form of a daffodil we rarely see in northern gardens, Narcissus triandrus ssp. triandrus.

As a recap, daffodils are organized into 13 groups that are called divisions. When you buy daffodils or narcissus ( the same thing) from catalogs that follow such rules, you will see them organised as such, which is the proper thing to do. A daffodil society show, will also show their flowers separated into these Divisions. They are frequently listed, as  DIV. I, DIV.III, etc. Narcissus triandrus are DIV. V, TRIANDRUS, and these include some common named hybrids like “Thalia”.  a large, orchid shaped white daffodil. But, this pot below, would be most properly placed in DIV 10 SPECIES and their varients, which simply ( or not so simply!) means that this is one of the wild forms of the genus Narcissus, and in this case, Narcissus triandrus, the pure species.

Best of all, which is difficult for me to remain humble about, is that for whatever reason, I’ve had luck growing this species, and these seed raised forms below are proof that success can be had, even with little care. Most of these collector books list this pure species as “difficult”, and “growable- for a few years, then it will decline”. Thankfully, mine have set seed, which I have sown back into the same pot. Now these are blooming, and I am quite pleased.

The post Wild Narcissus triandrus or Angel’s Tears appeared first on Growing With Plants.

 These transitional months, those between the grand season of summer and winter, or summer and winter, mainly, spring and autumn, are times of significant bloom for many plants either bloom in the beginning of their growing season ( quite common with many orchids, which is why orchid shows are held either in the spring, or the autumn).  Such plants bloom very early in the growing season, or near the end because they either require certain pollinators, demand a long season of growth in which to mature, or they simply require strong sunshine or moisture to mature a new annual growth.

 The reasons why some plants wait until the end of their growth season may seem odd, but if you think about it a little more, many of these plants grow in areas where there are harsh conditions, a hot dry winter, for example, and so it is with many of the species Gladiolus which grow in the winter rainfall areas of the western cape of South Africa. A land, where many gladiolus species come from, and where many of the species in my collection come from. Today, I share a new one for me, the lovely olive and gold flowered Gladiolus virsecens.

The post Daily Awesome – Gladiolus virescens appeared first on Growing With Plants.

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I thought I had lost it, my large pot of Scadoxus multiflorus ssp. kathernae which I’ve kept in an increasingly larger pot, every year hopping to get a large specimen. When our greenhouse froze last December, I thought I had lost it. Well, actually, I did lose it. Shoved under a bench most likely around November, when I brought the plant indoors for the winter, it remained dry, on its side, and dormant until last week when I found it while cleaning the greenhouse. It’s looked better in past years, but it still had a flower bud, which bloomed this week and the plant resumes it’s growth for what’s left for the summer.
An easily grown plant, it can be fussy when trying to coax a bloom from a house plant specimen. Best advive is: Allow your Scadoxus multiflorus to dry off in the winter months, giving it just enough water to keep the bulbous shoots green and firm. When spring arrives, increase watering, and if you can, bring the plant outdoors where it should bloom. Another one of those borderline ‘bulb’ plants which sometimes never really go dormant, I too never had flowers until I had the greenhouse to winter them over in. So the situation is similar to my Clivia issue, before greenhouse, few flowers, after greenhouse, all the clivia bloom exactly at the same time. So I continue to believe that the triggers are a special combinations of daylength, temperature and perhaps moisture, but to be honest, my Clivia and Scadoxus get some water year round, since they do spend dormant time under the mesh greenhouse benches, where plants get watered with the hose above them, year round.

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This small, winter blooming bulb is the perfect candidate for a potted alpine bulb collection for an alpine house, or a plunge bed. Somewhat hard to come by, this plant comes from Morocco and it produces these pure cotton candy pink flowers which grow on a very short stem. I have had this plant for three years and it is starting to create a nice, multi-crowned plant. The foliage is lax, and somewhat protrate, if not alpinesque in appearance, although, not actually an alpine. This is also not technically a bulb, but rally only rarely available from those few retailers who sell extraordinarily rare or unusual bulbs,suc as Paul Christian in London. This is more or an geophyte with strange, fleshy storage roots, which allow the plant to go dormant during the hot, dry, moroccan summer. Not unline an Eremurus, actually, but much smaller. The Asphodelus flowers open on sunny days in the winter, around late January or February, and given the high production of bud, we will be enjoying it’s pink lily-like flower until true spring.

Ornithogalum fimbriatum var. Oreadra
This year I was fortunate to acquire three names forms of Ornithogalum fimbriatum, and this is the first to bloom. Unlike the more Wal-Mart-y Ornithogalums, this baby is less trailer park, and more Kew. I will get a better shot on a sunny day, when the flowers all open like white waterlillies, but on a snowy day like today, one can also enjoy the apple green outside markings on the petals. All kidding aside, I am smitten with all of the Ornithogalum speces, trashy or not. But these ‘fimbriated’ forms, ( see the serated outlines on the leaf?) are terrific alpine subjects for a collection in a cold greenhouse.
I grabed a quick shot of some of the interspecific Clivia which are now blooming. I leave for Japan this Wednesday, and these remind me of the seeds I brought back a few years ago, since, these are them. First time blooming, from Mr. Nakamura’s Breeding Plantation. Mr Nakamura and Shige are great hosts, when I visited, and the hundreds of Clivia seeds which we brought back are all starting to bloom, I am so excited. Although, I may miss many of them due to this trip back.Perhaps a few will make it into the New England Spring Flower Show this year, if they hold off.

Nerine undulata

Some Nerine species are still blooming, and this dainty species with undulating petals is proof of the name. ( syn. N. alta). It is much more graceful than it’s showier cousins, the N. bowdenii and N. sarniensis that bloomed in the autumn. Of course, there are a few much showier relatives that I hope will bloom soon, but maybe next year.

Margaret takes a nap, recovering from her throat surgery last week at Tufts University Hospital. Poor Muggles, has a serious Larynx problem. But, for now, the laser surgery went well, and at least she can breath a little easier, at least for a while, but we still can’ t leave her alone.

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