more on messy

I think I'm coming to terms with having a messy garden. How else am I going to have a garden with multitudes of of species? I do love those gardens with a "spare palette" as is typically seen in design magazines, but I think I would get restless after a few weeks, days even. My plant lust demands variety.

Today I'm noticing just how big the Salvia argentea gets when it blooms. It's about 3 feet tall. I've read many times how people cut the flowers off to maintain better foliage. I've tried this and the foliage still turns olive drab rather than retaining the early season silvery sparkle. But I also love the flower stems, calyces and flowers. The hairs on the stems and calyces catch the morning light. The flowers are very short lived, but attractive, being a large flower, and chalky white. They open sequentially up the stem, making the bloom season a month or two, which is quite a long time. The thin stems with bulky calyces and flowers make for an awkward combination, but one I like, for they make interesting texture. The stems and calyces stay green as the seeds ripen, taking a few months. Why not leave them on, since the leaves lose their attractiveness anyway? Last year, I left the stems on the plants through the summer and fall. When a friend who is a landscape architect came to visit, she asked me about it. I told her that I liked the texture, wasn't it great? "Hmm..." she said, obviously not agreeing. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.



I ordered 5 roots of Eremurus from Brent and Becky's Bulbs last fall. They arrived as pathetic shrivelled starfishes. I wasn't very inspired. I had bought a couple of roots (at a rather high price) from a vendor at the Philadelphia flower show about 5 years ago that looked similar. The first year, nothing came up. I planted around them, since I figured they were dead. The next year, a single leaf came up growing about 4 inches tall, quickly dying back a month or so later. I wasn't even sure if it was Eremurus. I left it alone. The next year, a larger leaf, to about 8 inches. Last year, there were three leaves. The other root never came up. "This is ridiculous" I thought, after seeing the big clumps of Eremurus blooming in the median at Carlisle. So when I received the roots, I wasn't expecting much. But they did come up this spring. Every root. They develped into small plants, but 3 developed flower stems. One was broken off by the stucco-istas. This is the largest of the flowers. Nice, but certainly not the fireworks that I was hoping for. Maybe next year. By the way, that first Eremurus produced 6 leaves this year. Progress is slow.

Eremurus 'Cleopatra'

Every year, I swear to get rid of Dr. Huey (see my blog entry on Obsessions). I can't help but think of it as a weed rose. it comes up from every bit of root. It's the left over rootstock when the hybrid tea that was grafted onto it dies. Last year I cut the eight foot vines to the roots. I figured I could plant something more valuable in the space. It popped back up, looking a bit weary of my fickle ways. This year I'm reconsidering. Why reproach this plant for its commoness? It performs well here, despite the late summer mildew. I never water it, and it still grows vigorously. It is about as carefree as any rose can be.
But it has no scent. A rose without scent is like a day without sunshine. Dr. Huey your days are numbered.