Change of address
3 months ago in Variety of Life
A plant pundit comments on plants, the foibles and fun of academic life, and other things of interest.
Running a bit late this week, but the last two days have been really busy. It's always like this at the end of the semester and the beginning of the field and gardening season. And even worse, TPP had to waste time mowing some lawn, which was a bit tricky because of the clusters of bulb leaves to avoid. Some times when you're busy and when you've got a lot to do you tend to overlook the little quiet things that are happening here and there. In various places in our gardens are patches of native plants that pretty much take care of themselves. Along the fence separating our gardens from the neighbors' dog run is a large patch of trout lily (Erythronium albidum). This plant appears in many places around our shade gardens, and generally you simply look down on it from above, but when you get down and take a squirrel's eye view you really get to see just how fabulous this flower is. It's a wonderful wild flower and easily naturalizes; it spreads, but slowly.
This isn't the best image. These leaves are fresh from our glasshouse as of a couple of hours ago, and then scanned as opposed to photographed for this blog. Naturally you wonder what plants have these leaves. Now here's the challenge, one of these leaves is different from the other three in a very significant way. One of these leaves comes from a basal lineage of flowering plants - star anise. Two of them are from magnolialean families - nutmeg and eupomatia. The other leaf is from a gymnosperm - Gnetum. Isn't that something? Did you ever figure it would be this tough to pick out a gymnosperm from a group of angiosperms? Look how similar they all are in terms of shape; same apex, same base. They all have short "stumpy" (not a technical term) petioles. TPP will deliver an answer after we see if anybody out there is very perceptive. BTW all four plants are dicots, but none of them are part of the "true dicot" clade of flowering plants. How crazy is that?
Not only do flowering plants have a tremendous diversity of leaf shapes and forms, they are adapted to many different habitats and they have specialized for many other purposes as well. First all those floral parts are modified leaves. Then there are all the other funky things angiosperms have done with leaves: protection, coevolution, traps, succulent leaves, vestigial leaves, climbing aids (tendrils, grappling hooks), attraction, flotation, xerophytic leaves. Why this will be just like a leaf scavenger hunt through the glasshouse, and that's good because the weather outside is appalling: wintery mix (April 23d) at just above freezing. Here's a nice tropical leaf with adaptations for dealing with heavy rainfall: a drip tip and vein gutters. Both help shed water quickly. So what plant has this leaf?
Bradford pears (Pyrus calleryana of Callery pear) has to be one of the champions of over-planted ornamentals especially in the tree category. They do grow quickly, and then because of their anatomical weakness, they fall apart just as quickly. They do have nice foliage, dense, dark-green, so don't expect grass to grow underneath one. And they do have a nice fall foliage color, and quite a nice lacey white flowering display. Locally they just began to flower, so it came as no surprise when the phone rang and someone was asking TPP the usual question: What smells so bad? In flower Bradford pears stink; they smell just awful. It's hard to describe some odors especially in the broad category referred to as "rank". This term is used to describe a set of offensive (to the human sense of smell) odors. The pears odor is strong and reminds TPP of the odors emitted from sewers in Bangkok. No question about it; the smell is disagreeable. This seems to puzzle many people, but these people have never worked with flowers or their biology. Flowers do not exist to please our senses, and even though these flowers are pretty enough, they do not use the same pollinators as say apples which have a very similar flower, both being in the same sub-family of the rose family. As is often the case, it's still pretty cool weather because Bradford's flower in the early spring, and one of the most reliable pollinators of the early spring are syrphid flies.
Here's an image if you aren't familiar with them; you probably thought they were bees, but they hold their wings differently. Now when it comes to odors, bees and flies have very different likes and dislikes. There's a reason for that old saying, "Whew, that could gag a maggot!" Flies look for rotten things to use as a brood substrate for their offspring, although in the case of the pear, they don't get that, although they probably do get some nectar as a reward. And now that we've gotten this far, why is such a flawed tree so widely planted? It's got three strikes against it: dense shade, weak limbs, and it stinks. Best thing that ever happened around here was a very early, wet, heavy snowfall in late November when the Bradford's were still holding their leaves and the snapping of the trees sounded like fire works. A walk around just a few blocks and over 40 Bradford pears were just so much fire wood; such a good start!

While many people are familiar with witchhazel (Hamamelis), very few people know about winter hazel (Corylopsis), a close relative. The two are similar in being early spring flowering shrubs, and in TPP's experience, both are dearly loved by bad bunnies. Both shrubs have a nice fall color display too. Winter hazel is also a bit less hardy, so check on cold hardiness as the species differ (TPP has C. spicata shown in flower.), and it would suffer dieback at the bottom end temperatures of zone 5, which haven't been realized in quite a few years now. Winter hazel is a handsome, somewhat delicate looking, but graceful shrub, but the pale to lemon yellow inflorescences are the real eye-catcher. This is certainly not a feature plant, but finding room for one in a shrub border works very well. Unfortunately the plant is rather hard to find in the trade, so TPP started with just a stick, and it's slow initial growth and it's delectability to bunnies got things off to a slow start, and as Mrs. Phactor keeps pointing out to me, when it comes to woody plants, time is not on my side, so buy the biggest you can find. The images above are from the Wikimedia Creative Commons courtesy of Kenraiz and Kenpei respectively.
Why not double our fun by having a FFF and presenting another under planted perennial at the same time? This will be accomplished by highlighting Iris reticulata, a species of iris that grows like a crocus. Rather than having a rhizome, this iris has a small bulb/corm; it will form clumps, but not spread like it would with a rhizome. So far in TPP's experience, this little iris naturalizes very well. You plant it just like crocus, and it flowers at about the same time of year, early spring. The long narrow leaves hang around for awhile and then it goes dormant until next spring. Like many small bulb flowers, planting it in clusters and sprays gives you more impressive displays. After all it's only about 10-15 cm tall at flowering. Everyone has room for more flowers like this; they are so showy and so cheerful. It's also relatively cheap; you can buy 100 bulbs for something like $12. So why isn't this more commonly planted? Can't say. TPP has a couple of very nice images, but they're in the laptop and the home internet connection is down, again, and not to speak ill of the provider by name, but these bumskis can't possibly be the frontier of the communications network (topic of another post perhaps). This image is from the Creative Commons and credited to Hedwig Storch.
Peat is the partially decomposed remains of plants from peat bogs, primarily the Sphagnum, i.e., peat moss. As such peat bogs are long-term repositories of carbon. When that peat is "mined" and removed from its low oxygen, low pH, water-logged environment, and spread around our gardens in the form of a soil additive or a potting mix or a starter pot, it finishes its decomposition rather quickly releasing all that stored carbon as carbon dioxide. It's hard to think about giving up a common gardening practice because it's akin to coal mining and "dirty" coal, but it actually is, so we should. And because peat bogs are drained so that the peat can be mined, a valuable wetland is destroyed, and the rather unique organisms that inhabit bogs have the habitat destroyed in the process. Bogs like this formed very slowly, and they can regenerate, but they do so at a terribly slow rate, so peat use is like deforestation, a non-sustainable practice. In this respect, TPP is as guilty as anyone. In come places alternatives to peat, other bio-materials that would regularly decompose quickly anyways, are being sought, but so far TPP has seen no significant move in that direction in these parts. The use of used newsprint and coconut fiber to make "peaty" pots is being to show up in the trade. Fortunately the local municipality mulches and composts yard, garden, and wood waste which can be used to augment soil instead. It's hard to get numbers on how big of a carbon footprint the use of peat generates; global warming is speeding up the decomposition of peat in nature as well. Peat is more common in higher latitudes where the cold keeps things locked up for longer periods of time. The peat problem is a particularly ironic one because gardeners in general like to think of themselves as the good guys, advancing the front of "green" living, and then it turns out our carbon footprint is bigger than anyone thought. Besides peat is too valuable for other uses such as making that smoky malt used for whisky production. The image above is the property of Kristian Peters, used under the terms of the Wikimedia Creative Commons.