Gardens by Kelly Productions

As promised, we’re on the road in search of great plants.  However, technology is really fighting us this trip and with this limited internet connectivity, we’re unable to load all the posts (with photos) and clips as promised live from the road.  At the latest, they’ll be up when we get back to Iowa on Monday.  Until then, keep an eye on my Facebook page (if you’re not a fan already) where I’ll post little micro-posts to keep you briefly updated on our progress.  It’s so far proving to be a very productive trip!  More soonest!

I’m back!  After a long absence, it’s a pleasure to return to they keyboard and share with you the inklings of tentative plans for the future and a summary of the path I’ve just traced to get to this point.  2011 will go down as a full year in my book.

In the months since my last post (January), I’ve finished the manuscript for my forthcoming book Bearded Irises, due out from Timber Press in 2012.  More details on that, of course, as the release date nears.  I’ve also managed to finish my M.S. degree here at Iowa State University in horticulture, bringing the count of degrees in horticulture to two from this phenomenal institution of agricultural leadership.  My research has focused on the obscure and underappreciated genus Dirca, and I wrote this post about my work a while back.

But the purpose of this little note is to let you know about what I’ll be doing this week.  I’m going to be afield in northwestern Nebraska and southwestern South Dakota, pursuing plants heralded by the late plantsman Claude Barr–Great Plains natives that know how to take the heat, stick out a drought, and thrive in what many of us would consider the worst of gardening conditions.  Leaving Tuesday, I’ll be joined in this pursuit by two esteemed colleagues–Dr. Jim Ault from Chicago Botanic Garden and Winston Beck, an up-and-coming horticulture student here at Iowa State.  We’ll be blogging along the way, just as my team and I did back in 2009 when we trekked to the Ozarks.  Expect daily video entries too!  This is going to be a great trip–stay tuned!

I guess this counts as a late recap of the final two days of Garden Writers.  Since arriving home late Monday night (13th), I taught my herbaceous ornamental plant ID lab at Iowa State and then flew to St. Louis on Wednesday for the a talk at the Missouri Botanical Garden that night.  I’m back in the garden for the weekend tying up some fall planting obligations (plants aren’t exactly the most patient things when it comes to the subject of sinking their roots deep in ground).  It’s been a crazy spell!

I’m also holding back laughter to put this blog post together.  Sunday night will be remembered as the night of tomfoolery, and the memories of cajoling and rabble rousing with horticultural friends ring mostly clear from the night before.  I enjoyed the company of friends, new and old, at a fab little restaurant called Smoke, situated right next to The Belmont Hotel.  Smoke appropriately bills itself as an “old fashioned smokehouse” that combines seasonal flavors and flair “that will please the foodie and the come-as-you-are crowd.”  It goes without saying that I’m an unabashed foodie that loves to palate the goodness made in passionate kitchens–like this one.

A few of the gardens of day 3 could be best described as spaces of conspicuous consumption.  On full show, these grand gardens surpassed the reality most of us live in, while creating, albeit overtly contrived environments that dazzled the senses.  I honestly have no wish to garden in spaces like these, but appreciate the fact that some people do.  Gardening in that sense accommodates us all.

But then others like a renovated pumphouse-turned-chic condo and modern, minimalist garden opened my eyes to a very real future of garden design.  This richness-lite technique represents the tip of the proverbial iceberg for how to design small urban gardens in a compelling, yet functional way with cool plants.

The gardens of day 4 flipped the coin and went more artistic, putting at times a Bohemian spin on garden-making as a counterface to the corporate idea of outdoor living the day before.  In these little boutiques of creativity, I felt much more at home–in the company of like-minded souls who wanted to create intimate, passion-rich gardening spaces instead of billboard-ish placards for extravagance and crotons.

The photo gallery moves from conspicuous consumption through La Vie Boheme, just as I’ve described above!

For those looking for more provocative thoughts from my head via GWA, you’ll have to stay tuned for another post.  I’ve got pages of notes to digest and cull for any portentous ideas!  And sleep calls…

In a word–HOT.  At least this afternoon and evening.  You gardeners down here deserve medals (and kudos) for creating beauty amid the assault of heat.

The sessions today probably caused the most neurons to alight in my head.  I’ve surely got lots of ideas to impart in various forms over the coming weeks and months, particularly on the themes of style and substance in garden communication.  Our love and passion for gardening should find its way to people in creative, engaging ways while maintaining thick horticultural substance.  Voodoo Donuts, a favorite donut shop in Portland, Oregon, is known for their slogan “The Magic is in the Hole!”–a perfect gardening slogan.  But that comes with an exception.  I think we’re pretty good at teaching people about digging holes, planting stuff, and putting together container gardens.

But we’re not great at talking about plants in anyway other than as simply products or merchandise.  The phrase “installing plant materials” takes a twist on something a carpet layer might say, rather than a landscaper installing living, thriving biodiversity in an outdoor space.  The way we communicate says so much about what we believe, and when we’re not willing to talk about our work in cogent, compelling ways, we lose serious marketing power.

So take this as an exercise.  Comment on the photos below.  Talk about what you see and let’s have a dialogue about dialogue.  What do these three images say to you, and more importantly what do they say (if anything) about you and the work that horticulturists do?

I always struggle with where to start after first days at conventions.  In the company of great plants, great people, and great tomfoolery (I just love that word), it’s hard to focus my thoughts–harder than normal at least.

So I’ll keep it all planty this round.  Today I found myself in the company of Dan Heims (Terra Nova Nurseries), Rita Randolph (Randolph’s Greenhouses), and Sharee Solow at the Fort Worth Botanic Gardens in Fort Worth, Texas.  If you’re down this way, you really should take time to visit this extraordinary municipal public garden.  Kudos to Debbie Garrett, our tour guide, for taking time out of her day to shepherd zealous plant lovers around their collections.

The highlights of the FWBG are two-fold.  It’s hard not to talk about the genus Begonia with Dan, of Heuchera fame no less.  (Fun fact:  Dan told me today that his foray into coral bells was motivated by his desire to find a “hardy” Rex begonia…or at least something that looked darn close.)  It’s then not surprising to learn that FWBG has one of the largest (if not THE) largest collection of begonias in the country.  At just under 1,000 taxa (species and cultivars total), it’s truly a most amazing if not slightly nauseating experience.  I’m tired, but I wanted to share a few photos of some amazing Begonia diversity.  Dan says to check into the American Begonia Society if you need assistance with your addiction.

The two of the two-fold above is the Japanese garden.  I haven’t been that engaged in a Japanese garden design in a long time, and feeling mental calm for just a few moments really helped make for a relaxing afternoon.  See the gallery below for one of my favorite vistas.

It all starts again tomorrow at 7:00 a.m., though candidly I’m not sure I’ll begin until at least 8:00 a.m.  Bonne nuit!

It struck me during this last week that I hadn’t been on a single local botanizing foray this summer.  Not one.  After spending at least a day per week for the last two years in the field during the summer, I’ve let my busy schedule come between me and one of my favorite, pleasureful pasttimes–foraying into the remnant wilderness around my home.  So today I fixed that.  I spent the afternoon, albeit a hot one, in the field in search of local flora blooming at the height of summer.  Another realization I still find most troubling–it’s August 1st.

August 1st, for me, marks the peak of high summer.  High summer, as garden writers of old wrote, marks midsummer, the time at which many gardens succumb to heat and humidity and during which many gardeners retreat for the cool shelter of air conditioning.  Despite my abhorrence for the heat and humidity, I relish my garden the most during high summer.  Maybe because the norm among gardens at the height of summer is drab, blah, and burnt.  I’m good for sharing my secrets too.  Stay tuned to the folds of Fine Gardening magazine in 2011 for my run-down on how to beat the heat of high summer with a palette of dependable, hardworking plants.

When I think of that palette of plants, which really is quite encompassing, I think of the prairies of Iowa–environments where plants must thrive through heinous bouts of heat, wind, hail, and torrents of dashing rain, often repeatedly from June through August.  I spent some time remembering and rediscovering some of these plants in their raw beauty today amid the buzz of dragonflies and the cajoling calls of nesting songbirds.  Take a look…

Clematis virginiana–Known commonly as devil’s darning needles, this native clematis rightly reminds many of the favorite sweet autumn clematis (Clematis terniflora).  This native counterpart differs by forming a more sprawling vine perfect for ambling up shrubs and small trees with bevies of smaller flowers borne earlier than its Asian cousin.  I found these faintly scented flowers just opening this afternoon.

Echinocystis lobata–I love vines and honestly never have enough vertical space in my garden.  If you gave me two hundred trellises, pointed towards the horizon, and said “go west and create a garden,” I’d hit the road with nothing more than seeds and a well-polished trowel.  One vine that I keep meaning to try, and that I think has some promise in the “annual vines with fragrance” department, is the cucumber vine.  It will easily engulf a trellis by midsummer only to outdo itself again with loads of sweetly fragrant white flowers.  The fruits are equally entertaining, harboring four seeds that develop under hydrostatic pressure.  These spiny, prickly, hedgehog-like pods explosively pop late in the fall, reportedly ejecting seeds at speeds of up to 11.5 m/seconds.

Elderberries and American plums looked tasty today.  Made me think of preserves, jams, and jellies.  My “foodie” mind is never far away.

I visited this local prairie today to find it awash in yellow daisies–members of the genus Silphium to be exact.  These rosinweeds (Silphium integrifolium) are some of the most underused late summer-blooming yellow daisies.  Sure, some chalk them up haughtily (or boringly) as just another in the encumbering class of “ADCs” (another damn composite).  But these starkly textural, tough, and zoneworthy perennials laugh in the face of high summer bringing much needed color to an otherwise tired and often burnt garden scene.  I believe strongly that some seasons of the year have a “just so” kind of look–and for August, that “just so” look is blended yellow and gold against clear blue skies.  See also Silphium spp.

Scrophularia marilandica–I was so tickled to find this common figwort today.  I’ve never seen one before, but immediately knew what it was when I dashed by it at 30 mph along a dusty gravel road.  I ground to a halt, sped backwards a few hundred feet, and waded through a ditch of head-high weeds to get this photo.  I remember marveling over these obscure flowers in field guides as a kid, and sure enough found it today just a five miles from my house–a lesson in how easily we take native plants for granted.  Though I don’t see much hope for common figwort in American gardens, it’s truly a nerdy plant that you just have to see to appreciate.

I’ve almost let another month slip away without saying a whole lot.  Alas, we’ll soon be in the throws of spring (woo hoo!) and the chattiness will no doubt commence in earnest with a whole new season of gardens, favorite plants, and ideas to blog about.

Just last week I spent four days in the Philadelphia area while in town to do a talk at the Hardy Plant Society, Mid-Atlantic Group spring conference.  My gracious hostess, the inimitable Stephanie Cohen took me to the Morris Arboretum for a day of plant-sighting.  Check out a few of late winter/early spring divas in full regalia below.  Having been born in March, I have an innate love, though one only recently realized, for the late winter garden.  I hope you enjoy.

But I don’t have to fly to the other end of the country to enjoy harbingers of spring.  In fact yesterday I popped out to Ledges State Park, just west of Ames, Iowa to check on the status of spring.  Winston Beck and Josh Schultes captured these images with my camera while I was busy being giddy.  We’ll relay more reports from our travels as the season progresses here and on our new blog project at www.digthismag.com.  These petite little kiddos are liverleafs or Hepatica americana.  Just look at the genetic diversity!  We saw thousands upon thousands, more than I can recall seeing in recent years.  Though delicate and bijou, these darlings of the first days of spring deserve a place in our gardens if only to herald the arrival of the new season.

Hello from Nashville, Tennessee!  I can’t believe how long it seems since I last wrote you all a note.  The last month or so have consumed me with work, research, and writing beyond my website.  I have tried to write a little from time to time, but unsurprisingly my dissatisfaction with the weather jaded my words.  I’ve not had anything nice to say about winter this year (not that I usually do), so I spared us all the misery.

I’m in the heart of the south this weekend for two lectures at the University of Tennessee Master Gardener Leadership Conference on the future of gardening and how master gardener programs can attract new recruits.  Looking forward to sharing in a positive, progressive, and forward-looking discussion tomorrow with eager-eyed master gardeners and coordinators tomorrow!

But today I got to play hooky with my buddy Troy Marden, highly respected garden designer and hortiholic here in these parts.  Troy and I planned an outing to Shadow Nursery, the home of the inimitable Don Shadow.  At 55 degrees and sunny, we couldn’t have asked for a better day to follow along in the shadow of the man himself, hanging off every southern-twanged word and taking note of each great new plant we came across.  Here’s a few things I you really must see:

Acer palmatum ‘Bihou’
This Japanese maple boasts a glowy, coral-tinted bark that reminds me why, despite my fervent dislike of winter, I love winter gardens.  With bark like this, how could you go wrong?  No idea if this would be one of the few lucky Japanese maples that could survive in the hinter north, but we may just have to give it a shot and report back.  I’m always up for knocking off a few plants on behalf of the horticultural mafia.

Hamamelis vernalis ‘Amethyst’
Don found this in a Netherlands nursery, named it, and started selling this unique, floriferous clone of the Ozarks witch hazel several years ago.  Two are in a UPS box bound for Ames, IA and my greenhouse!

Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Magic Fire’
One of the highlights of the trip I love witch hazels, and probably haven’t found one that I couldn’t live without.  Don’s amassed quite a collection in an effort to breed and select the best witch hazels for the southeast.  Seemingly lacquered in redness, this cultivar called ‘Magic Fire’ lured me in for a closer look.

Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Quasimodo’
A DWARF witch hazel!  Superb!  Just think what the container gardening people will do when they get their dirty hands on this one?

Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Treasure Island’
Boy did I have drool running down my lips when I saw this.  A treasured feast for the eyes indeed, these bright frilly flowers are quite large for most witch hazels at over 2″ across.  You won’t miss this one!

Nandina domestica ‘Sasaba Compacta’
I must admit, at the fear and threat of heresy, that I’m not generally head-over-heals for Nandina.  Meh, I say.  Maybe in my travels afield, I see them ad nauseum, the McDonald’s foundation planting of the south and west.  Plus, we can’t reliably winter them in Zone 5 nor enjoy much of a fruit set.  Beyond that, what’s the point?  But here’s one I did squeal about.  ’Sasaba Compacta’ not only sports “willow-like leaves” (as Don describes it) but carries a heavy coat of red color from autumn well into February.  Truly spectacular and just the kind of sore thumb you’d want to put streetside in your front yard garden.  Make an impact!

Nandina domestica ‘Tamahime’
Yet another Nandina that I was twisting and shouting about today.  This is a cultivar in the Kinshi group, known for their filiform foliage.  Green forms, red forms, the whole plant is unbelievably bizarre and a definite talking piece.  I kept walking past the block of them photographing each one, ooh-ing and aah-ing, and dreaming of how freakin’ awesome it would be to grow these.

Nyssa sylvatica ‘Zydeco Twist’
If you’re familiar with black gums, you know they’ve got three great things going for them: a) RED fall color that will set off alarms, b) ability to tolerate wet and dry feet with seeming ease, and c) call the U.S. home.  But add to that list contorted stems and you’ve just described the aptly named cultivar ‘Zydeco Twist’.

Today we spent six hours at the modern mecca of plant collecting: Plant Delights Nursery.  Bona fide plant goobers (like myself), avid enthusiasts, and passion-crazed beginners alike will find items of interest on this 10-acre property.  Tony Avent and his dream team of horticulturists continually amaze the horticultural world with their unprecedented palette of plants.  I could ramble on in hyperbole for paragraphs more, but you really just want to see some cool plants! 

Where to begin…Tony and I share a passion for underappreciated natives.  Tony and his cohorts have scoured native haunts of Texas and have uncovered a host of fun things.  Hardiness?  Eh, you never know.  Logically, it would seem unlikely.  Biogeographically speaking, it’s entirely possible seeing that at one time our entire continent rested at a more northerly latitude.  Let’s dream. 

In the same vein of thought, the GWA attendees sojourned to the JC Raulston Arboretum for an evening gala Friday night.  The late Raulston was a mentor to Tony Avent and select photos from that dark, rainy evening are included here (though you could foreseeably think they all came from the same garden).  Great minds you know.

Found below is a sampling of underappreciated natives and other outstanding plants from two fabulous gardens in the heart of USDA Zone 7b.

Due to Internet connection issues, I wasn’t able to finish my reports from the Garden Writers Association last week.  I’ll post them now along with my follow-up thoughts and comments.  I hope you enjoy!

<<Clearly, I missed blogging yesterday.  Our haul back to Raleigh from Asheville began early with a morning-long stop at the famed Biltmore Estate.  Our private tour with head gardener Parker Andes was a treat.  He kindly guided us around the fog-draped estate pointing out time period restorations that will greatly add to the historic feeling of the property.  We examined hand drawings made by landscape architects from F.L. Olmsted’s design firm.  Despite the numerous notable landscapes in his portfolio, Olmsted regarded Biltmore as his crowning achievement.  It’s in that spirit of excellence and pride that Parker and crew continue to this day.

Our next stop, after a FABULOUS lunch respite at Posana in downtown Asheville, found us in Hickory, NC at Hawksride Farm Nursery.  I could go on for hours about the plants we discussed and talked about with Rick Crowder, general manager.  Rick’s extensive travels in Japan have netted a fine collection of nerdy collector plants and choice landscape selections with distinctive and unique appeal.  Take a look at some of the wicked-looking plants we saw (listed in order of appearance, variegated Hydrangea serrata, Yucca aloifolia ‘Purpurea’, variegated Quercus, Cercis canadensis ‘Rising Sun’ [leaves emerge bronze then fade to lemon]):

I haven’t the attention span left tonight to share with you my six hours of adventures today (Day 3) at Plant Delights Nursery.  Wow!  Tony and the PDN dream team have created the prix d’elegance of the plant world, a truly jaw-dropping and mind-numbing collection of plants that range from budding mainstream commodities to esoteric BIO (botanical interest only) plants.  I’ll try to post a photo blog of that visit tomorrow.

Admittedly it’s hard to collect my thoughts.  My mind whirls in conversations with, handshakes from, and hugs by colleagues that I only get to see a few times each year.  What wonderful people!  Gardeners and those who write about such passionate work embody the best of humanity.  I’ll try to keep up tomorrow.  Some of us plan to play a little hookie and skip out to Sanford, NC to visit renowned NC garden center Big Bloomers.  Fun plants are in store!