With a common name of “Morning Widow,” I expected my clone of this plant to have dark, depressing flowers. However, whichever clone it is, the flowers are a nice purple shade. The plant is impressively floriferous, too.
I don’t remember where I got this plant. I think I’ve had it about ten years. It is planted amid its cousin, Geranium macrorrhizum, so I don’t even notice it until it soars above the shorter cranes bill with its flower spikes.
My 2020 plans for this plant include trying to grow some seeds I harvested from it last year, and to feed it a bit and enjoy its flowers, and probably take a bunch of photos of it–that seems to be what I do!
Years ago, brother Tim and I were very involved in the Northwest Fuchsia Society. Part of that involvement included working on plant sales and selling our own plants.
One year, member Sally Abella let me loose in her yard with a trowel to gather plants for the annual fundraising plant sale. She had a well-established yard with some very interesting plants, many of which were volunteering around generously. Geranium nodosum was one of those plants. I ended up with a few that didn’t sell, and some other plants, as well, that will get counted later in Plant-A-Day.
This is an elegant plant, with shiny, maple-like leaves and pink flowers that never overwhelm. It seeds around a bit, but in my yard is not invasive. However, I shared it with a friend for a new garden and this plant went berserk!
I don’t have any 2020 plans for these plants, other to enjoy them wherever they volunteer in the garden.
Two of my favorite things about snowdrops is that they are very early-blooming and they are not yellow. Bright yellow daffodils and bright yellow forsythia are cheerful, for sure, but there is something almost too bright about the color in early spring. Unassuming snowdrops make a subtler, more welcoming entree to the changing seasons.
Gardening books talk about “sheets” of snowdrops that have spread so fast and quickly they need to be dug up and moved frequently, apparently to prevent a garden takeover. We may never know if my snowdrops reproduce less because of their DNA, their situation in the garden, or the lack of proper care from this gardener himself. After at least a dozen years, my clump is still relatively small–maybe with a dozen total offsets. Regardless, they give me a lot of pleasure when they poke up through dead leaves and bark to bloom in January/February.
Below are a couple of pictures of the clump today (4.4.20).
The spot that I chose for these bulbs is pretty shady, and I think that has slowed their growth. Most years, the slugs or snails find the flowers before I do. I often forget to tear away the old clematis vines above the snowdrops in time for them to make a show. The fact that they still survive and bloom and slowly spread is a testament to the flexibility of this plant.
Last fall, I planted a bunch more snowdrops into the memory garden, which is much sunnier open. We’ll see if they grow better than my original clump.
My 2020 plans for these plants is to feed them with organic fertilizer while they are in growth and to set a calendar notice to clear the way for them in December so they can grow and bloom unfettered.
Here is a hardier version of the flowering maples listed earlier. I grew these shrubs from seed about six years ago. There are peppered about in the orchard bed, next to the house in the dog run, and in a pot on the back patio.
The flowers of these plants are gorgeous–large and silky, in small clusters at the end of branches. The leaves are handsome, as well. Like their more tender cousins, I have the toughest time growing these into handsome specimens. They have long internodes and long, whippy branches atop spindly trunks.
One of the seedlings has beautiful pure white flowers. They are slightly smaller than those of its lavender siblings, but they light up a dark corner next to the lilac bush in the dog run. I will work to add flowers here of that seedling.
I ordered this plant years ago (at least six), but I don’t remember from where. I do remember it was a tiny start when it arrived. I kept it in pots for most of that time and this is what it grew into.
Last spring, when I planted the last third of the memory garden, I added this plant to the sunniest corner.
The Yucca is in the middle left of this photo taken this month (March 2020). It hasn’t grown much since I planted it out but maybe this year it will push out more leaves. The mature plants, based on photos, are wonderful architectural elements, so I’m hopeful that might happen in my lifetime.
My recollection is that this plant came from Plant Delights nursery, but that may be a hallucination. They don’t have this clone currently listed. It looks a lot like the old clone “Gold Dust.”
There are many things to appreciate about this shrub, but the most impressive thing is its ability to grow under a huge Douglas fir tree. Not many plants can handle the root competition and dryness that wonderful, massive native tree brings to its base.
The fact that our sturdy friend Aucuba also looks amazing every day of the year puts it on top of my dry shade list. If only this was a native species, it would be perfect!
My 2020 plans for this plant are to get a few cuttings for plant sales. It doesn’t need anything else to be amazing!
This plant used to be called the Labrador Violet but apparently has been renamed. I am unsure from where it emigrated into our little yard–l feel like maybe it was in a pot of plants from sister Cate. It has seeded itself all over the yard, but very politely and always welcomed wherever it lands. It colonizes pots, too, which is really interesting.
For 2020, I want to watch these plants to see if I can nab some seeds when they ripen and maybe help direct their spread.
Most people grow this plant for its amazing foliage. I bought it about five years ago, planning to be one of those people. However, I planted it in the Douglas fir bed in a mostly shady corner and the leaves, while attractive, have never lived up to the “Great” moniker. For me, though, the greatness is in the flowers. I happen to love forget-me-nots, and Alexander’s flowers are similar but even bluer.
And below is how the plant looks today (March 29, 2020).
For 2020, I plan to feed this plant and work carefully around it as we transition the Douglas fir bed and surrounding area to a native plant garden.
In 2020, this plant finally started looking like the catalog photos!
Some very beautiful seeds jumped into my suitcase in Hawai’i and followed me home. There were beans of a bright coral color that I picked up off the ground in the botanical garden. I planted them soon after I got home–December of 2019, and all three of them sprouted.
I believe these are Erythrina seedlings, but several of the species are called Coral Bean. Here’s how they look at the end of March 2020.
My 2020 plans for these plants is to pot them on soon into a much larger pot, move them outside for the warm months, and move them back into the house for the winter.
Grape hyacinths were living on this property when we moved in. They lived in random corners and edges wherever the ratty lawn allowed.
I’ve enjoyed these flowers since I was a kid. They seem to be everywhere, in every yard, leftover from bygone days. That’s reason enough to appreciate them, but they also have beautiful flowers.
These plants have a floppy demeanor, leaf-wise, so the probably would be better off planted in sunnier spots and surrounded by fast-growing perennials that cover up the flop.
In 2020, I hope to pop a few of these bulbs out of the woodland garden and pop them into the memory garden.
