bells and earrings

The idea that oregano could be anything other than the herb in the spice rack came as a pleasant surprise when I visited the rock garden in the Denver Botanic garden. I don't remember which oregano it was (perhaps O. rotundifolium), but it was a plant about eight inches high, and absolutely covered with purple-tinged green bracts, with matching purple tubular flowers peeking out between the bracts. The thin wiry stems held these paper-lantern heads in a graceful pendant manner, and of course Panayoti had positioned this plant to hang down over a rock, showing off the plant in the best way possible. I was entranced. I had to lightly rub a leaf and smell it (never pick anything at a botanic garden, even a leaf) in order to reassure myself that it was indeed an oregano.

Since then, I've discovered that there are many oreganoes. I think of the oreganoes as split into two main groups: those whose flowers are predominant, and those whose bracts are most noticeable. Those more knowledgable might split them into the rotundifolium group and the laevigatum group. Of course both groups have both bracts and flowers. Those that come from the rotundifolium group tend to have a short pendant habit. Those from the laevigatum group are upright and can be two feet tall. Culinary oregano (Italian oregano, Greek oregano) come from the laevigatum group.


Although the upright oreganoes have some wonderfully colored varieties (try a google search on Origanum laevigatum 'Herrenhausen'), it is the rotundifolium group that gets me most excited. The bracts seem to be always variations of green with purple tinting. O. 'Kent Beauty' is starting its bloom (above), the heads reminding me of cowbells. The plant I purchased was a scraggly thing with wiry roots, but engaging bracts. In the last few years, it has proven itself a member of the mint family, spreading through underground roots to several feet across. It has even sent shoots up through the drylaid brick path, which is part charming and part annoying. Stepping on these errant plants releases the well-known oregano scent. The plant has not developed into a dense bushy plant, but there are enough stems to make a show. These stems die to the ground in the winter so there is nothing above ground in the winter.


Oregano libanoticum (above, and below) was highly promoted by the High Country Gardens when I bought it. There are certainly things to recommend it, such as the charming pendant earring bracts in a soft color that makes me think of sherbet. It tolerates dry soil, but in dry conditions, the bracts quickly dry to brown, even if flowers continue to appear between them. I noticed that in the display gardens, plants are kept rather moist, and with this the plants become an almost unruly mess, but the bracts remain green. It spreads more slowly than 'Kent Beauty' and although stems also die back for the winter, basal leaves remain and develop a burgundy tone.


These are the first two oreganoes to start their show. In the past I have posted O. dictamnus, the famous Dittany of Crete, which has the advantage of retaining all of its wonderfully fuzzy leaves through the winter, and a particularly long season of bloom. It has self-seeded this year into my dry-creek walk, but I'm thrilled. I'm also trialling O. 'Amethyst Falls' but it burned badly in the late spring snow. I'm also re-trying O. sipleum, whose bracts at Agua Fria nursery were a solid dusky purple, but when planted in my garden, the bracts were mainly green. I'll keep you posted.