August in Iceland: Poppies and Peonies, Glaciers and Geysers

This August, my husband and I vacationed for almost two weeks in Iceland through Cornell’s Adult University (CAU). We’re both alums, but we’d never considered signing up for any of the enticing adult education trips or on-campus courses our alma mater offers. In large part, that’s because we consider ourselves misanthropic, so traveling in a pack--even a pack of Cornellians--has historically just seemed, well, a little unnerving.

The arrival of the CAU brochure featuring the Iceland trip last spring offering was serendipitous: it’s a place we’ve wanted to go since reading Icelandic sagas in a college literature course AND our twentieth wedding anniversary is coming up this October so we felt entitled to splurge a little. We decided to go, and, as it turned out, we even kind of bonded with our pack.

I could write for pages about Iceland’s incredible, magical landscape and quirky culture, but for now I just have tell you about some of the remarkable horticultural head-scratchers I saw. It seems counterintuitive that Iceland would have beautiful gardens because it’s so far north--its northernmost coast brushes the Arctic Circle. The counterbalance to the cool year-round temperatures, of course, is the length of the summer days there. At the summer solstice the sun essentially doesn’t set, and even in August it was still light at ten at night. Iceland also enjoys temperate weather year-round (jet-stream-related, I think, but don’t quote me), and doesn’t experience the yo-yo freeze-and-thaw winter cycles we endure here in the northeast US.

So, back to the nutty Icelandic plantscape! I encountered two basic Alice-in-Wonderland-style plant anomalies: blossoms of supersized stature and blossoms that just shouldn’t have been swanning around in August, especially just shy of the Arctic Circle. Perennials in particular were huge, and they were blooming at the “wrong” time and with the “wrong” partners. For example, plants that blossom here in the northeast in spring and early summer like Poppies, Columbine and Peonies were cheek by jowl with Asters and Daisies. Roses behaved as though it was Mother’s Day weekend, and Lady’s Mantle showed no late-summer rattiness, instead sporting pristine leaves the size of a giant’s hand. FYI, there are a great many species of “hidden people” in the Icelandic countryside including trolls and elves, ghosts and, naturally, giants. There are, however, very few insects pests, which accounts for the shiny good looks of most plants’ foliage and blossoms.

To the non-gardeners on our trip, the plantings we saw were remarkable only in their beauty and vitality; for me, each new horticultural vista nearly sent me into a tizzy of cognitive dissonance. It was like looking at those misleading drawings of pre-selected perennial plantings you see in cheapo garden catalogs. From the illustration, it looks like all the plants flower at the same time and with incredible joie de vivre; unfortunately, for the gullible gardener in the northeast, these pre-fab perennial borders rarely deliver what the catalog drawings show. Maybe all those cheapo garden catalog illustrators aren’t charlatans--maybe they’re just they’re Icelandic: move over, mums, it really IS Columbine season, too!

So, hang onto your wool hats folks, and get ready to experience August in Iceland! I hope the photos that follow give you some sense of my Iceland experience--but I can almost promise you that even the most glorious photographs* of this unique place just can’t do it justice. It’s something about the air and the crispness and the vast spaces and the sparseness of it all that stays very clearly in sense memory but is hard to translate into something concrete.

Below you’ll first see a few “wonderland” plant pictures--I wish I’d taken more photos of botanical head-scratchers, but frankly I was often just too overwhelmed by the experience of the place to lift the camera. I’ve also included several landscape shots that I hope will give you a sense of the range of Iceland’s natural beauty. I’d love to hear your thoughts and questions!

*For glorious photographs, see Eliot Porter’s Iceland collection published by Little Brown. His work DOES do Iceland justice...I spoke too soon.

Fall Gardening Tips: No moping! Instead, Tidy, Reflect, and Plan!

If you’re like me, you’re wandering around in your post-Irene garden shaking your head and muttering, “OK, now what?”  It’s not so much that the hurricane caused flooding or large-scale tree damage on my property--it’s more that my shrubs and perennial beds got beaten by the wind and horizontal razor blade rain to within an inch of their lives.  My Echinacea, which is usually beautiful at this time of year, is languishing prone on the ground next to a bald quince.  Those evil red lily leaf beetles have long since murdered my Asiatic lilies, but their stumps should be overcanopied with perennial geraniums in their second flush of bloom.  They’re not.  Add to the mix the fact that my chickens have identified that particular stretch of the perennial border as a prime scratching patch and dustbath spa and you get the picture.  Don’t even ask about my containers.  I visited Iceland this summer, and the moonscape lava fields there have more happy vegetation than I have right now in my South Salem garden.

So, what to do?  It’s galling to face the reality that for my perennials, the season is over a bit prematurely.  Most years, I’d be enjoying my summer garden for at least another three weeks, but this year my pruners are literally chomping at the bit to start cutting everything back.  (Well, not literally since they’re inanimate.)  But it’s time to stop moping.  Actually, as I think about it, the fall cleanup is one of the most satisfying activities in the gardening year because it’s a time for reflecting on the past season and thinking ahead to next spring. I’ve put together some tips to help you make the most of the next couple of months; there’s really nothing like working in your garden during the cool, crisp days of fall.  

So what to do? Read on, my gardening friends!

PERENNIAL BEDS AND BORDERS 

--Cut back any perennials that are broken or dead.  Leave a few inches of the stems so you’ll remember where the plant is next spring.  If the plant’s leaves are diseased, remove them from the garden and don’t compost them.  Also, use a cultivator or hand rake to gently remove diseased foliage that has fallen at the base of the plant.  Many  fungal agents can winter over in the soil, so removing diseased material now can help prevent problems next spring.  Don’t cultivate so aggressively as to disturb plants’ roots.

--Note that any plants growing from bulbs should not be cut back until the foliage is completely brown.  The plant’s ongoing photosynthesis is nourishing the bulb for next season’s growth.  This is especially important for tender bulbs like gladiolas and dahlias.    Leave these bulbs (or corms) in the ground until the foliage has been killed by frost; then cut it off and dig up bulbs for winter storage in a cool spot.

--If you’ve lost perennials or want to replace them with something new, fall is a good time to plant.  Nurseries are hoping to find homes for as much of their stock as possible, and you’ll find some excellent sales at this time of year.  Our plant material at Gossett’s has been lovingly maintained all season, and for a great price you can pick up  a range of shrubs and perennials that will thrive next season and beyond.

--Once you’ve cleaned up your garden beds and borders, start thinking ahead to spring--specifically to conditioning the soil for next year’s display.  If you compost, you can add a thick layer to your beds now, even if it’s not 100% broken down.  The snow and rain of winter will continue the decomposition process and you’ll be a step ahead in spring.  This method works especially well in vegetable gardens, because you’ll likely be turning over the soil  fairly thoroughly in the spring which will mix in any remaining uncomposted material.  You can also purchase bagged compost and other soil amendments at Gossett’s.  Our staff can recommend the right products for you.

SHRUBS

--Fall is a great time to fertilize your shrubs, especially acid-loving heavy feeders like Rhododendron, Azaleas and Hollies.  Espoma makes an excellent granular product called Hollytone that is easy to apply and will help promote healthy spring growth and blooms.  

--It’s also a perfect time to plant new shrubs.  The cool fall temperatures are optimal for facilitating shrubs’ rooting process. As always when planting shrubs, be sure to keep them watered for the first few weeks until they’re established.  I recommend turning your hose on to a gentle stream and just letting it run for 30 minutes or so at the base of the shrub; creating a bowl-shaped trough around its base at planting time helps it to catch and hold water.

--Many shrubs can be lightly pruned in fall, but use care. Pruning stimulates the plant to put on new growth, and these new leaves and shoots are vulnerable to cold and disease.  Generally, prune shrubs in fall only to remove stray branches that could be broken off in winter storms. Don’t prune spring-or summer-blooming shrubs now or you risk cutting off next season’s flowers.

--Late in the season, but before temperatures drop consistently below freezing,  apply an anti-dessicant to shrubs like Boxwoods, Azaleas and Rhododendrons.  Gossett’s sells a product called Wilt-Pruf that, in effect, seals moisture into leaves and prevents windburn and drying.

BULBS

--‘Tis the season to plant all those wonderful bulbs that lift our spirits in spring:  daffodils,  tulips, grape hyacinths and more.  Planting bulbs is easy and rewarding; it’s a project kids enjoy as well.

--Generally, plant bulbs at a depth twice their height.  So, a small 1-inch grape hyacinth bulb would be planted about two inches deep, while a 3-inch tulip bulb would be planted about six inches deep.  You can dig individual holes with  a trowel or a special bulb planter or, if you’re planting a lot of bulbs,  dig up a large area, set the bulbs in place and re-cover with soil.

--As far as feeding bulbs, experts have different opinions.  Bulbs store all the food needed for next year’s growth, so if you purchase bulbs and plant them this year there’s no necessity of adding fertilizer to the planting hole.  However, common sense suggests that a product high in phosphorus (which stimulates root growth) is beneficial.  I do add Espoma’s Super-Phosphate when I plant my new bulbs; many gardeners prefer Bone Meal.  As for my existing bulb plantings, in spring when top growth is about two inches tall I feed with Super-Phosphate.

HOUSEPLANTS

 --If any of your houseplants have enjoyed the summer outdoors, it’s time to think about bringing them back in for the winter.  Before you do, though, check them for insects and fungal conditions; both could spread to your other houseplants.  Houseplants with waxy leaves (as opposed to furry leaves, like African Violets) should be washed with plain water.  If any signs of insects remain, treat the plant with Insecticidal Soap or use a systemic product like Bonide’s Systemic Houseplant Insect Control, a granular treatment that you shake onto the soil.

--Many houseplants also benefit from being cut back before coming inside.  Pruning stimulates new growth and also allows the plant to adjust to the lower light conditions inside the home.  Be especially careful to remove any diseased leaves before bringing your plants in.

--Note that some flowering annuals you may have in your outdoor containers make excellent houseplants.  I especially recommend  bringing in geraniums and dragon-wing begonias.  Both should be cut back severely and placed in a sunny location.  Tender herbs like Rosemary also do well inside in a sunny window.

 A FINAL NOTE:  Fall is the time to take inventory of your landscape.  Be sure your perennials are identified by plant markers so you’ll remember their location--and their identity!--in the spring.  Start a notebook with observations about what did and didn’t work in your garden this year. Like childbirth, I’m told, you may not remember this season’s pain once next spring’s rebirth is in the air.  You can also use your notebook as a place to collect pictures and information from catalogs, magazines, and the internet about plants you’d like to track down next season.  I’m especially fond of my five-year garden journal because I can track week by week what was going on in my landscape and compare it to past years.  I record things like periods of heavy rain, unusual temperature fluctuations, insect problems, and especially impressive bloom displays.  My journals help me plan for next season--but maybe just as important they allow me to revisit gardens of seasons past.  

So now you know what to do:  Stop moping!  Just get out there and enjoy all the pleasures of the fall garden and what poet John Keats called its “mellow fruitfulness,” bald quinces and all!  

A picture (or 05) is worth a thousand words!

I decided to do something a little different this time for the Glog. This is my first attempt at a photo glog, so see what you think. All the photos below are from my home in South Salem, NY

Containers provide an instant pop of color.  Here, I've paired large-flowered tuberous begonias with an unusual weeping form called "Bonfire Orange."  In the back of the container is a perennial Euphorbia; I'll plant it in the garden at the end of the season.  The pot holding this ensemble, by the way, is a rich, deep gold which blends nicely with the blooms.

 

 This small shady perennial bed is one of my favorites.  It lines the bluestone walkway leading to the rest of the garden, so it's one of the first areas visitors see.  I think this planting shows tat foliage can be as dramatic as flowers.  This bed features Hosta ("Blue Angel" and "Love Pat"), white Anemone ("Honorine Jobert") and yellow Waxbells (Kirengeshoma).  Both the Anemone and the Waxbells are late-season bloomers, so I still have an elegant show to look forward to from them--and best of all, they're deer resistant!  Unfortunately, the Hosta most certainly isn't, so I do use repellent sprays regularly.  Mature Andromeda and a PJM Rhododendron form the backdrop.

 This photo features what I think is an unusual plant combination for sun/part-sun.  This spot is a bit of a hodge-podge; shrubs share space with both annuals and perennials.  For me, it's the color pallet that unifies the various elements.  The focal point is the Weigela ("Wine and Roses") in the center.  Its purplish foliage is echoed in the lavender blossoms of the Astrantia ("Venice", I think); the bluish Sedum ("Xenox") in front of it is a cool contrast, and it blooms later in the season with a dusky pink blossom.  At the very top of the photo, you can see a gorgeous Cimicifuga ("Brunette"), whose leaves and stems also have a purple cast.  White Echinacea ("Virgin") and white Catmint (Calamentha Nepeta Nepeta) will bloom later in the season.  Annuals featured here are pink Dragon's Wing Begonias and Euphorbia "Diamond Frost."

 This little shade garden is a study in scale.  In this bed I've planted two--and sometimes three--sizes of the same plants.  For example, there are a couple of large Hostas ("Sum and Substance" is one) and at their feet are small varieties like "Mouse Ears" and, I think," Liberty."  And at their feet?  The tiniest Hosta I've ever seen, called "Babies' Tears."  Also in this area are two sizes of Lady's Mantle (Alchemilla), and three sizes of Goatsbeard (Aruncus).  Other plants in the photo include a weeping cedar, a Rodgersia, a variegated Ginger (very unusual!) and a "Wolf Eyes" variegated Dogwood (Cornus).  Orson the Ram supervises.

 This photo is primarily meant to showcase one of my favorite vines:  False Hydrangea (Schizophragma "Moonlight").  Here, it rambles onto the roof of an old outbuilding on our property, adding to its rusticity.  My Schizophragma is blooming now (note the white blossoms), but it looks great even when the blooms have passed.  This vine also makes a great cover for small birds--sometimes when I walk by it's as if the plant itself is "cheeping!"

Three Cheers for Common Things!

My husband and I have just returned from a nicely “pre-season”(as in minimal preppy throngs) mini-vacation on Nantucket.  In addition to reveling in the island’s breathtaking beauty, we also were chased indoors one morning by a potent thunderstorm.  We landed in the Inn’s eclectic library, where I came across a collection of poems by Pablo Neruda.  Not only is he one of my favorite poets, but the title of the book drew me in:  Odes to Common Things, it’s called.  Neruda’s subjects ranged from a bar of soap to a pair of socks, to an artichoke, each poem celebrating the overlooked beauty of everyday things.

 Gillyflower. Source: Old book IllustrationsOne of my favorites was a poem praising the gillyflower, which is an old-fashioned name for the plant we know as Dianthus—specifically the fragrant mat-forming “pinks” of spring.  Neruda describes how, in creating his first garden, he “yanked the gillyflowers” out en masse and tossed them into the ditch as he “ranted away at them,” denouncing them as common and (gasp!) “suburban.”  Time passes, he travels, he matures.  Upon returning home, he sees that the gillyflowers have returned and he praises their homely perfection, experiencing them as if for the first time:

 A new day

full of gillyflowers

begins, in simplicity.

 Modern Day DianthusNeruda’s poems brought to light for me as a gardener a similar impulse toward simplicity.  I’ve been experiencing this season a reawakened appreciation for some of the “old standards” in my garden—plants that have become nearly invisible to me as I walk through my beds and borders, plants that I frankly thought I’d outgrown.  In the next few posts, I’ll share some of my (decidedly sub-Nerudian!) thoughts on a few ordinary plants I’m rediscovering this summer.  First is the Stella D’Oro Daylily.

STELLA D’ORO DAYLILIES

I know, I know:  deer candy.  Absolutely true.  That said, I just can’t imagine not growing a variety of daylilies, so I’m committed to spraying them with deer repellent.  I pick my battles—and the planting beds that I spray—so my daylily beds are near the house where the fear of headless Hemerocallis keeps me diligent.  Deer aside, daylilies are tough as nails, gratifyingly prolific, beautiful and often fragrant.  They also have the good grace to cover up spent daffodil and grape hyacinth foliage still languishing around in the middle of June.

I remember reading about Stella D’Oro in the Jackson & Perkins garden catalogs I used to obsess over in my neophyte gardening days in southern Westchester.  The description touted this plant as blooming essentially non-stop during June and July and sporadically afterwards till frost. The lightly fragrant, clear buttercup yellow trumpets, the blurb said, were virtually supposed to cover the plants.  This heady information, coupled with photos of a suitably buxom clump of Stellas sold me, and I planted them with abandon; they, in turn, performed with abandon and quickly colonized about a third of my wimpily proportioned perennial border.  

As the seasons passed, though, their wholesome enthusiasm and happy good looks came to seem cloying and I preferred the snootier company of oddly colored and fantastically shaped daylilies.  A chartreuse tetraploid dwarf with a red throat and variegated foliage?  Bring it on!  That’ll blend nicely with my black Asiatic lily collection and my screaming orange phlox display!  Pure magic!  

Ah, youth.

Stella D'Oro Daylilies outside Melissa's doorWell, the lesson that Pablo Neruda and his gillyflowers are teaching me is that “ordinary” is in the eye of the beholder.  I feel the same sense of homecoming he described in “Ode to the Gillyflower” as I look at my cheerful border of Stella D’Oro daylilies just outside my door.  It’s strange to say this, but I feel as though I can “trust” Stella to preside sweetly and patiently over her corner of the garden while I’m off clucking neurotically over my pouty Himalayan Blue Poppies.  A spritz of deer repellent every now and again, maybe the occasional deadheading of a spent blossom in passing—that’s all Stella asks.  This daylily, like Neruda’s gillyflower, makes my world “suddenly simpler.”

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Gossett Brothers, of course, carries Stella D’Oro in classic yellow; as they become available, we’ll also have on hand the new red and purple varieties which are supposed to bloom as abundantly as their parent.  And Stella is just the tip of the daylily iceburg—there are possibly more Hemerocallis cultivars than of any other perennial, and the nursery carries a nice variety from pastels to hot colors for your browsing pleasure.

Meanwhile, if the daylily bug bites you, I strongly suggest reading Sydney Eddison’s book A Patchwork Garden.  It’s almost twenty years old now, but this book remains one of the most inspiring and educational garden reads I’ve discovered to date.  Two chapters are devoted specifically to daylilies, her specialty.

Beware the RED LILY LEAF BEETLE, my friends!

Last June was the first time I had the questionable pleasure of meeting the red lily leaf beetle (Lilioceris lilii)face-to-face, so to speak.  A marauding hoard of them had descended on my Oriental lilies well before they bloomed, and they enthusiastically munched foliage and buds alike. 

They didn’t leave then.  They’re back now.  Things will be different this year.

Red Lily Leaf BeetleYou can’t miss this insect—it’s an oblong, bright red thing a little smaller than a firefly (but with a similar body shape); similarly colored lady bugs have smaller round bodies with black spots.  Lily beetles are often piled on top of each other on the leaves and buds of Asiatic and Oriental lilies.  They don’t seem to bother Daylilies, but Fritillaria may be at risk. 

There are several approaches to getting rid of the Red Lily Leaf Beetle; the most straightforward is to hand-pick them and then, um, well. . . squish them or drown them in a sandwich bag filled with something like vinegar.  You can try spraying your plants with insecticidal soap as a preventive measure; however, it’s fairly tame stuff and may do little to get rid of existing infestations. 

I’ve been doing a combination of hand-picking and spraying with a neem oil-based product called “K+Neem” by Organica.  (Gossetts’ carries it in a ready-to-use spray bottle that’s handy.)  These beetles are very tough, and I check my plants daily.  It’s important that you eradicate these bugs this season, because the adults can overwinter in your soil and emerge early next spring jonesing for a mate.  That means even more hungry bugs.

For more information on controlling this local pest, check out gardenweb.com and search for “Red Lily Leaf Beetle.” 

P.S.  Psssssttt. . . . .!  By the way—I have a theory!  A conspiracy theory, frankly.  OK, so here’s the real deal.  These beetles are red, right?  Right! They’re native to Europe and Asia, and guess where they first made their appearance in the Eastern US in 1992:  Massachusetts!  Are you following?  The RED Lily Leaf Beetle was first documented in Cambridge, MASSACHUSETTS—that’s RED SOX territory, people!  Think about it!