Why water your garden in the winter?</h4> Colorado winters can vary dramatically when it comes to snowfall and precipitation totals. In the Mile High City and its surrounding suburban communities, any snow accumulation lasting longer than a few days is rare and drought conditions are the norm. Because of this, urban gardens can often suffer from winter drought conditions causing long term challenges especially for newly planted trees and shrubs. </p> Although many perennial plants shed their leaves and go into dormancy during winter months, they are still very much alive and their root systems, buds and stems continue to grow. When there is insufficient moisture, this stresses the plant and inhibits essential metabolic processes from occurring properly. Examples of this include winter kill in lawns and perennial plants not reemerging in spring as the ground thaws. Drought stress can also be seen in trees and shrubs for several years after the drought occurs since it can affect growth rate, leaf production and overall vigor. Drought stress can also make plants more susceptible to disease and insect damage. </p> Best methods for winter watering:</h4> Winter watering should be done 1-2 times per month from late fall into early spring and should be conducted on warm days when temperatures are above 40 degrees Fahrenheit and the soil is thawed. It should be done using a hose and watering wand or attachable sprinkler around midday allowing enough time for the water to infiltrate the soil before freezing. Placing several empty cups in the garden and watering until each cup has accumulated half an inch to one inch of moisture will ensure that you have adequately watered the soil around the roots of your plants. Using a deep root waterer is also a great way to water trees and shrubs. Once finished, hoses should be removed from the faucet spigot and stored to prevent freeze damage to water pipes, hoses and watering wand attachments. </p> What plants in the garden need to be watered in winter?</h4> Plants that should be watered through the winter months include deciduous and evergreen trees, shrubs and groundcovers as well as perennial flowering plants. Newly planted trees and shrubs are the most crucial as this supplemental watering will allow them to establish more quickly and help them reach their maximum potential growth the following spring and summer. Evergreens are prone to winter desiccation, a process in which more water is lost through the foliage than is absorbed through the roots of the plant, resulting in yellowing or browning of the foliage. It is not necessary to water xeric plants such as cacti, succulents and many drought tolerant native plants as consistently throughout the winter as these plants are well suited for experiencing long periods of drought without detrimental long-term effects.</p>
The Victorian Era was a time rich in technological advances, steeped in following proper social graces and following many rules in which to act. Courtship was regimented, long and had many watchful eyes on young people at social gatherings where they would hope to find a match. Victorians may have been repressed when it came to dating but were the most romantic when trying to gain the affection of those who caught their eye.</p> Rules of courtship and what was acceptable as romance gave way to the popularity of using flowers as a secret language. Although flowers and herbs had been assigned meanings for centuries, it was Lady Mary Montague, the wife of the English ambassador to Turkey, who was responsible for popularizing the use of flowers as messages in Europe. Lady Mary Montague observed the Turks using flowers to communicate expressions of love and sometimes disdain. Enamored by this practice, she wrote letters to her friends in Great Britain describing this practice. Soon floriography dictionaries with lists of flowers and their meanings were all the rage in the United Kingdom and spread all over Western Europe. </p> Tussie Mussies were small, hand-tied bouquets given by suitors to let the apple of their eye know that they fancied them. The specific flowers and herbs used communicated a perfumed message of love and affection. If the recipient was happy to receive the message, she would hold it close to her heart. If this affection was unwanted, she would hold it down by her side and in some instances, gave a return tussie mussie with specific flowers that meant she was not interested. Even the placement of flowers within the bouquet had significant and intricate meanings. The act of flirting, exchanging desires, or rejecting a suitor could be communicated in a somewhat discrete way in a tussie mussie. After a while, tussie mussies began to gain popularity in Victorian culture as gifts and sentiments to mark special occasions like graduations, weddings or the birth of a new baby.</p> Why not break from the traditional bouquet of red roses? Send your special someone a personalized message of love, desire or admiration by using the floral language of the Victorians. Enlist your florist early to help track down the blossoms for a flirtatious bouquet. During the upcoming growing season, create your own tussie mussie from your home garden to mark celebrations or milestones for the special people in your life. There are many publications and floriography dictionaries available to help you create your floral messages.</p> Victorian Flower Meanings</h4> Anemone- Forsaken Bachelor Button- Single Blessedness Carnation Red- My heart aches for you Carnation Yellow- Rejection Daffodil- Unrequited love Dandelion- Faithfulness; happiness Iris- Your friendship means so much to me Ivy- Wedded love Marigold- Jealousy Pine- Hope Poppy Red- Pleasure Rose Pale Pink- Grace Rose Dark Pink-Thankfulness Spider Flower- Elope with me Zinnia White- Goodness </p> This blog post and photos first appeared as an article in Life on Capitol Hill, February 2021.</em></p>
There’s something to be said for things that survived 2020, even in the world of plants. Wandering the Gardens in February and March, we still see the skeletal remains of the 2020 flower show, and it’s now that we see who the really tough and interesting survivors are. I’m not talking about the big players like evergreens, or conspicuous giants like sycamores with their interesting plated bark. No, I’m talking about those perennials that did their thing last season but kept on standing, with durable seed heads, twisted stems or swirling grassy leaves, their subtle winter hues warmed by the low sweep of our winter sun. These are the things that even stir-crazy gardeners are reluctant to cut back, even though now is the time to clean things up and prepare for the fast approaching growth of spring.</p> Take a slow stroll on a calm winter day and enjoy the last stand of these subtle performers who have taken the old adage “The show must go on!” very literally through our toughest, darkest days. But look quickly; now is the season of renewal, and you will see our horticulturists hard at work, bidding a final farewell to all that was 2020 in the Gardens and preparing for a glorious spring that is just around the corner.</p> Baby Blue rabbitbrush (Ericameria nauseosa</em> ssp. Nauseosa </em>baby blue form): </em>Cottonwood Border, Water-Smart Garden, Sacred Earth</strong>) spends its last golden days of fall luring all sorts of pollinators, but when it’s over, its fluffy seed heads persist through the winter. We trim the entire shrub down to six inches by mid-March.</li> Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis: </em>Plains Garden lower path</strong>) holds sprays of sweet spherical white flowers in late summer, and the durable seed balls that follow will last well into the spring. These can be trimmed for dried arrangements. Buttonbush is a medium to large shrub that responds well to spring pruning.</li> Undaunted muhly grass (Muhlenbergia reverchonii</em> ‘PUND01S’ UNDAUNTED®): Rock Alpine Garden, El Pomar Garden, Plant Select</strong>) is a frothy rosy cloud in late summer, pairing perfectly with pink and purple Agastache. After frost the buff colored clouds continue to soften the winter landscape.</li> Hydrangea</em> arborescens</em> ‘Annabelle’ (Romantic Garden, Shady Lane</strong>) is a summer favorite with its pure white globes, shifting to soft lime by autumn. With frost they transition to golden-tan and give welcome, long-lasting structure to the winter garden. These are trimmed to just a couple inches tall in March each year.</li> See the world through rose-colored grasses! Two grasses to be specific: our native little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium: </em>Plains Garden</strong>) and the less common African red oat grass (Themeda triandra: </em>Marnie’s Plaza, Steppe Garden</strong>). Both will brighten the winter landscape in shades of rose to rusty-lavender. Little bluestem remains upright, springing back even after wet snow. The red oat grass is a bit more relaxed, laying in graceful sweeps over adjacent stems and rocks. Both are best trimmed to just a few inches tall by late March.</li> Pale purple coneflower (Echinacea pallida: </em>Cottonwood Border</strong>) is a graceful summer wildflower with long reflexed pink petals, looking like badminton birdies launching simultaneously skyward. When that fun show has passed, the sturdy seed heads remain as a food source for birds, persisting well into the late winter as a great complement to softer winter grasses. We trim these to the ground by late March before growth begins.</li> As you wander, you will see that this is by no means an exhaustive list! Many other grasses make the list, including Mexican feather grass (Nassella tenuissima)</em> and </em>hardy pampas grass (Saccharum ravennae</em>). Most of our native penstemons (Penstemon</em> spp.) have persistent spikes of rich brown seed capsules. The stacked globe-like seed balls of lion’s ear (Leonotus</em>) and Jerusalem sage (Phlomis </em>spp.) can last well into winter. Most yarrow (Achillea</em> spp.) have flattened disc-shaped seed heads on sturdy stems. Several hardy statice (Goniolimon tataricum</em> and others) have intricately branched stems with delicate dried flowers.</li> </ul> The list goes on! A late winter walk will reveal which ones are true assets to the winter garden and can help you plan for reliable all-year interest in your own gardens.</p>
It is on the brisk days of winter such as these that I long for the summer days I used to spend out in the field collecting data on Colorado rare plants. In my opinion, very few things beat the thrill of traveling to the backcountry to search and document the existence of incredible plants only seen by few. That is, very few experiences could not beat this thrill until I started trying to grow them. </p> This story starts back when I was merely an intern in a government office. Before becoming a horticulturist at the Gardens, I was an intern at the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) Colorado State office. Although the office is stationed close to Denver, I would often find myself wandering the dry, desert hills of the Colorado Western Slope. I was drawn to the rare, threatened Sclerocactus glaucus</em>, the Colorado hookless cactus.</p> The Colorado hookless cactus is endemic to Colorado, meaning it only grows here. Being a small, cylindrical cactus found in high-elevation deserts of western Colorado, it is a cactus that can easily be overlooked. Unfortunately, it often is by ranchers and those extracting oil and gas from our public lands. I spent many hours playing thrilling games of “I Spy…a little cactus!” on my weeks in the field. The Research & Conservation Department also plays this game every year, searching and recording on plots that are not monitored by the BLM. I usually won the game of “I Spy,” finding dime- and quarter-sized cacti, but occasionally, I got lucky and was rewarded with the brilliant pink blooms of the larger ones.</p> When I started working at the Gardens full time, I was grandfathered into a special germination project, partnering with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. No, it was not for Colorado’s own hookless cactus, but of her close sister, Sclerocactus wetlandicus</em>, a.k.a. Uinta Basin hookless cactus (a rare Utah endemic). They are so similar, in fact, they used to be grouped under the same name but recently were placed into their own species due to their genetic differences. </p> Anyone who grows cacti knows it is difficult to germinate and cultivate them in greenhouse settings. This hookless cactus is no different; the seeds required precise, physical means of gently chipping some of the seed coat to help break seed dormancy and achieve germination (seed dormancy is a nifty adaptation many plants have evolved to make sure they only germinate during favorable environmental conditions). After the tedious task of chipping seed coats, a task nearly as monotonous as searching for quarter-sized cacti in the field, I was rewarded all the same: wonderful cacti seedlings appeared before my eyes; a prize that rivaled finding for them in the field. </p> All the same, growing them on to a suitable size has been a slow process, but nevertheless steady. A year into starting this project, the seedlings are still small, and yet, the thrill and amazement of growing such a special plant never ceases over all this time. It is truly an honor to be growing plants like this (and many others) in the Gardens’ greenhouses.</p>
