Yucca rostrata in Yuccarama</p> There are certain floral spectacles through the gardening year at Denver Botanic Gardens that are not to be missed: when the foxtail lilies (Eremurus</em>) are all in bloom early in June, for instance, or the Iris beds much of May and June... Well, right now we have the time of Yucca blossoming--and they are truly amazing any time of day--although they seem to glow with a special luminosity in the late afternoon. Yucca rostrata</em> may be primarily Mexican in distribution, but there are many robust and happy specimens blooming right now throughout the Gardens. I believe this my favorite!</p> Forest of tree yuccas</p> Ann Frazier, a volunteer, recently scanned this historical photo, showing the largest tree yuccas at the gardens a year or two after they were planted in the late 1990's. I blogged about these recently</a>...but it's worth revisiting these now that the flowering season is here...</p> Same yuccas taken today, July 2, 2013!</p> Do look back at the previous picture and see how dramatically these have grown in the last decade: I never cease to be amazed that Chihuahuan desert plants growing over 1000 kilometers south of here at lower elevations have the genetic tolerance to our severe winters! These have shown less frost damage than some of our native plants over that time! These were donated to us by Mountain States Nursery for testing and display, and I recall as Dan Johnson placed these thinking they would be the most expensive annuals we ever planted! I was wrong, obviously....By the way, the largest yucca in this planting is Yucca faxoniana</em>, and the more slender ones are Yucca thompsoniana</em>--both from the Chihuahuan desert in Texas and Mexico with roughly the same range as Yucca rostrata</em>.</p> Denver Botanic Gardens has a remarkable collection of many dozens of accessions of cold hardy yuccas that are located in many of our gardens. Now is a wonderful time to look at these--I have discussed a few of them in yet another one of my blogs you can find by clicking here.</a> And another one here</a>! As you might have guessed, I like yuccas! I end my little disquisition with a tribute to our ubiquitous, overlooked and sometimes maligned Yucca glauca</em>: Last May I drove through vast forests of this species in the Oklahoma panhandle and was dazzled by their heavy blossoming. Among the mostly creamy or ivory flower stalks were many that were stained quite deep pink. It was a dream of Claude Barr's to find a truly red yucca: I think these are well along the way to that goal! Alas, I was unable to collect that trip--so perhaps you can be the one to locate and introduce that holy grail?</p> Red stained Yucca glauca in Oklahoma panhandle</p>
Succulent sculptures at entrance to cactus and succulent greenhouse, Gothenburg botanic garden. The Swedes have a great sense of humor. I have been lucky to visit many of the world's great gardens: I shall never forget an April visit to Savill Gardens: millions of daffodils in bloom and me (just like Wordsworth's poem!). Royal botanic gardens Edinburgh on a perfect spring day. And I have now visited Gothenburg botanic garden again--after nearly 20 years absence. Many of my plant addicted friends agree with me that this may have the finest collections of Temperate plants on earth, grown to perfection and displayed with great artistry. Gothenburg ROCKS! And I'm here at the perfect time for their mind boggling bulb displays...a tiny fraction of which I shall share here with you... Anemone nemorosa coming into full bloom in woods all over Sweden: floral symbol of Gothenburg botanic garden...(sublime!) Before I do that I thought I should show you the wood anemone that is blooming by the million everywhere in Sweden right now: these were taken at Gothenburg: this is the floral symbol of that garden. Not bad, eh? I think Denver Botanic Garden should have a floral symbol...the Pasqueflower, perhaps? Easter daisy? Let's hope we pick as wisely! Carl Skottsberg, first director of Gothenburg Botanic Garden: a great botanist and visionary leader Gothenburg has had more than its share of brilliant leaders, starting with the first (who is honored on this medallion in the administrative building). Per Wendelbo, who led the garden in the middle of the last Century, is credited for really elevating its collections and stature--he was Norwegian by birth, and died tragically in a traffic accident in middle age. He picked out Henrik Zetterlund as horticulturist, who has been the guiding spirit of the garden ever since--and whom I will honor in my next blog--showing him in his native habitat in Götene where he has a weekend home.... Tanacetum leontopodium, a wooly composite from alpine heights in Central Asia--one of thousands of fabulous plants blooming right now at Gothenburg An alpine daisy, challenging to grow outdoors in Sweden, grown to perfection in one of the many alpine houses. Mats Havström, curator of Herbaceous collections took Sunday off to show us around behind the scenes: one of many young talents who are maintaining the momentum of Per Wendelbo's dream. One of the many talented young staff in the Dionysia house, showing a group of us around last weekend. Iris linifolia, a rare Central Asian Juno iris grown to perfection in one of the bulb greenhouses ("behind the scenes"). I doubt you would find a FRACTION of the plants in this botanic gardens' collections anywhere in America--public or private. I am a big fan of Juno iris--and Gothenburg has one of the best collections along with Kew. We grow these outdoors, however: Gothenburg is generous and has shared many bulbs with us over the years. It is possible that some plants in your garden trace indirectly to them as well! Iris graeberiana x magnifica, at height of bloom in the public bulb display I was charmed by this hybrid juno--which I suspect would grow gangbusters in our xeriscapes. Anemone biflora in its dazxzling scarlet phase--in the public alpine house display I have admired this bulb in books for decades: what a treat to see it in "the chlorophyll" (plant equivalent of "in the flesh") Androsace (Douglasia) idahoensis--a very rare native American alpine grown to perfection in the backup alpine collections. Don't look for this anywhere in American public gardens--you will not find it. There are literally hundreds of American wildflowers growing throughout Gothenburg, a distressing number of which are NOT being grown by American botanic gardens. Sometimes we forget that botanic gardens should be about plants (ahem!) instead of distractions...but I am getting on my soap box. Sorry! Primula renifolia, the rarest primrose in the Vernales section, recently introduced from Caucasian cliffs by Gothenburg staff. They would not be thrilled that I'm showing this a big past peak of bloom--but this is a plant of great pride: the most unusual of its section and a spectacular new garden plant. They should be proud. The public is flocking to visit the bulb collections, although the day was blustery... Their garden is loved by the citizenry. And botanic garden afficianodos around the world make pilgrimage to Gothenburg: our Mecca! One of many dozens of species of Fritillary blooming now--all meticulously labeled. Some of us are proud to be Frit Freaks--although many in the genus are chequered brown and green and invisible to ordinary folk. Too bad for them! Rare Asiatic saxifrages in the porophyllum section, some still unnamed after decades in cultivation. You will not find these at your local Wallmart, incidentally... More treasures...ho hum..... Most of the dionysias were finished blooming (their flowers trimmed off to prevent rot)--but Dionysia khuzistanica still glowed in the Dionysia house. Just a tiny fraction of the treasures in a few of the many glass houses--and there are acres of rhododendrons, trees, perennial borders, and a rock garden with hundreds of vertical feet of relief--it would take an encyclopaedia to show it all: you must simply make Gothenburg a destination...but don't expect to see it all--especially not in just a single day!</p> "...And haply then That future country lost its gloom; More lovely in that world than this, Immaculate the white lily grows, And perfected we walk in bliss."</p> Hortus Paradisi</em>, William Bell Scott</p> More pictures from Gothenburg this week on this blog....</p>
Opuntia cycloides at my house last fall Since there will be no lilacs breeding out of this year's dead land (check the last paragraph of this Blog if you don't recognize the reference!) we must make lemonade out of our lemons! And succulents RULE! Several groups of plants are coming through this rather horrific winter in great form: almost all native plants, alpines and succulents--especially cacti, agaves and yuccas seem not to have been fazed at all by the catastrophic late spring frosts that have laid so many flowering trees, shrubs and bulbs low. Yuccarama (Yucca faxoniana and Y. thompsoniana) I doubt there are many visitors to Denver Botanic Gardens (and literally millions of people have walked by these) who haven't noticed the sculptural forms of Yuccas outside our maine Education building. When Dan Johnson first had these delivered over a decade ago from Mountain States Nursery--I was sure they would be the most expensive annuals we had every planted: I was wrong on both counts--they were a gift so they cost nothing. And they have been resoundingly, gloriously perennial! And this year is no exception. They are our permanent sculptural exhibit! And they laughted at this spring's shenanigans... Opuntia engelmannii in the Rock Alpine Garden The "average person" is probably oblivious to the enormity of the damage inflicted last week by the 7F low with little snow: I think this is the greatest spring damage I have seen inflicted in my 34 springs at Denver Botanic Gardens. So I am focusing more than ever on that graceful ballet--as the opuntias all over the gardens gain color and turgidity over the next month or two and build to their spectacular bloom season: Looking at these and our rock garden and native gardens, I think...you know: they look good as ever! P.S. Afterthought: Several friends of mine have been quoting T.S. Eliot's Wasteland, which I have hyperlinked for your convenience...which many of us philologists puzzled over as youngsters in school: this long poem opened the floodgates to gnomic, mostly incomprehensible modernist "poetry" that (like Marianne Moore) I too dislike...the first sentence of which I have filched for my starter. I sort of like Eliot's most famous poem--although I hate what it has inspired subsequently. Give me Keats or Auden or Browning any day! </p>
