sprig to twig

The season may be winding down, but that last act is a doozy. My crape myrtle has never bloomed, but who cares. The foggy mornings set it off to nice effect, don’t you think?

The spiders are in cahoots, spinning webs that catch the raindrops to bespangle the spaces between shrubs. A faceful of silken strands awaits the incautious rambler.

Sporting raindrops as jewelry is a specialty of Euphorbia wulfenii. Mine looked so ratty last spring than I was tempted to dig them out. Fortunately, I took the lazy way and cut them back hard. They rebounded marvelously.

Spent plumes of Macleaya cordata do a good job with the raindrop thing too…one way I rationalize postponing garden cleanup until spring.

Many of the showy trees and shrubs have flamed out already, but various Cornus species, like the one on the right are still working up to it, as is the tree peony in the center distance.

Poncirus trifoliata ‘Flying Dragon’ is at its very best when the twisted, thorny branches are completely bare, but this stage, with the luminous, inedible fruit, is not bad either.

I look forward to one day enjoying an abundance of figs. That little one you see clinging to the branch is one of only three, and it is far from maturing before frost. Last year we had one…my half was delicious. To compensate, the design of the leaves is exquisite, and they turn this buttery yellow before they fall.

This one is a mystery. In that whole patch of green gooseneck loosestrife only the one stem turned orange and scarlet. What’s up with that?

Heuachera ‘Sashay’ maintains its perky personality through it all. I love the way the pink undersides of the leaves peek out around the frilly edges.

And finally, this patch of grass out back has escaped mowing because it has been too wet. It is ankle deep and swirls in undulating patterns. I do love the rain. If, like me, you just can’t get enough of fall foliage, let Pam show you hers and guide you to more.

I said I had a confession to make, and I do. Everyone was so complimentary about my mushroom bravery, and supportive, too. Well, I had no ill effects from the bits I did eat, but R nixed the meal. Lest you think he was being overbearing, let me explain. A couple of weeks ago, he discovered a swath of mushrooms in a part of our yard. There followed a quest that included poring through the illustrated mushroom guide (inconclusive)
and visiting several farmers’ markets. The mushroom stand guy called his dad (the expert) and described these fungi in detail. The verdict: Black Trumpet, one of the most delectable varieties. When we checked this info aqainst photos, these were definitely not the same. At another farmers’ market, a Croation woman said that she knew mushrooms, and these were definitely edible, though she could not name them. We had a small amount as a side dish. They were good, but not exceptional…certainly nothing to risk one’s health for the privilege of eating.
R is nothing if not persistent, so back he went to the People’s market in SE Portland, where the mushroom vendor seemed to know his stuff. He had a story about a guy who had liked this particular mushroom so much that he ate quantities of it (our field was awash in them). His outcome was not digestive problems, or death, but liver failure. Sooo…much as I longed to cook up my cache, and much as I doubted that anything so subtly delectable could harbor a dark side, I yielded to the more prudent approach. Just this morning I was doing a little more research and discovered that last Sunday there was a free event to hike the trails at Tryon Creek State Park to search for mushrooms, with an expert on hand for identification. I will be on the lookout for more such events. Here is a web site with some good information…and hey, guys, I’m sorry to disappoint you with my less swashbuckling ways…but, well, I’m sure you understand.

Things are heating up slowly (color-wise, that is) as temperatures dip and flowers fade.

The witch hazel will catch fire soon, but as it works up to it the subtle changes keep me fascinated.

I love the mixture of leaves on the Cotinus that have reached shades of orange amid many that are still summer’s deep purple.

Beauty berries have plumped up and turned bright, pearly purple, set against a backdrop of dwarf heavenly bamboo. What a show!

If I had hips like Ms Rosa ‘Dortmand’, I’d be sashaying around showing them off too.

I look forward to the day when I can divide Panicum ‘Heavy Metal’ and his nearby sister, ‘Shenandoah’ so their late-season seedheads can create a haze against the dark trees in the background. That’s what keeps us going, isn’t it? Visions of joys to come.

Speaking of seedheads, these tall wands of bronze beads catch the light in such a way that they must remain standing, even though it means much groveling to eradicate the gazillions of progeny.

Failure to deadhead the tree peony ‘Gold Sovereign’ led to this. I think I may embrace sloth as a general gardening technique.

Joe Pye continues to endear himself. Who dared to call him a weed?

The light shining through Cryptomerica japonica ‘Sekkan Sugi’ gives you some idea of how we prize it for the bright spot it provides through the darkest days of winter.

The mix of different sweet potato vines planted in a pot creates a nice tapestry.

This shot is all about texture, and foliage that will stay looking good on into the winter months. That ground cover is Rubus pantalobus ‘Creeping Berry’, and I can’t say enough good things about it. It has really covered ground, keeps the weeds out, and provides a deep green textural background for bright companions like this Verbascum.

Here’s another groundcover that I like a lot. My wintergreen was getting overshadowed by other stuff, so I dug it up and transplanted about five plants. Only one has survived and is looking great and spreading…go figure. This shot is sort of out-of-focus, but I find that I like the effect. Apologies to all real photographers.

Usually Pam over at Digging hosts a gathering of bloggers talking about foliage on the 16th of each month, the day after Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day. I don’t see it happening there today, but her blog is always worth visiting, no matter what she has up her sleeve.

Stachyrus praecox blushing prettily…ahead of the game in the march toward fall color.

with the Katsura tree not far behind.

The Eucalyptus tree sheds leaves on a regular basis, but not before they turn this lovely pinkish color. I gather them up and spread them on paths.

Even better than the blossoms (except to the bees) of the Joe Pye Weed are these sturdy pink stems holding vigorous whorls of leaves.

The plummy hips of Rosa glauca have yielded a few new starts, so I will now be able to plant some that I can cut back hard to enjoy that fabulous blue/blush foliage. All things come to she who waits, right?

And speaking of waiting, the Berberis jamesiana, which I planted in 2007, is finally beginning to produce the waxy, pale yellow berries (drupes?) that got my attention at Dancing Oaks Nursery.

Now that you have had a peek at my foliage favorites, you might as well visit Pam to see what she and her other followers have in store for you.

Head feeling a little woozy after over-indulging in the glut of blossoms in yesterday’s GBBD posts? Pam has come up with the perfect tonic to set you straight. Here are a few of mine before you skip on over there to see what she has up her sleeve for July.

Ceanothus impressus ‘Victoria’

A prostrate ceanothus…that’s all I know about it

Ceanothus x ‘Blue Jeans’ By having several of the California lilacs, the bloom time spreads over a long time, but what I really like about them is their shiny, year-round foliage: a little different on each variety, but still recognizable.

Cotinus ‘Purple Robe’

Ginko biloba (still a mere baby)

Tetrapanex papyriferus ‘Steroid Giant’ Giant? Hardly! Will this ever become the towering grove of mammoth leaves I envisioned (and was warned about) when I planted it in 2009? Oh well, they are pretty little things, just not what I expected.

I keep dividing my Phlomus russeliana. The new divisions are foliage plants for a while. The leaves are just a little bit fuzzy.

I could go on and on when it comes to foliage, but must remember that old show biz adage: “always leave ‘em wanting more”. If you really still want more, pop on over to Digging.

Back in what I have come to call the “graveyard berm” (ironic, because I think it was Loree who once referred to berms as burial mounds) this Verbascum has placed himself in a crevice of the rock border and is happy there. I have never planted one of these, but am happy to see them pop up here and there. See that little thing that looks like a very small twig near the center? It is an insect. Fun, huh?

I am in love with the foliage of primroses after the annoying little flowers have had their day. In the woodland, the flowers always look a little tatty (through no fault of their own: they bloom during full rain/slugfest season), but the leaves are perky, puckery, shiny delights.

Just look how lovingly they combine with ferns and hostas

…and especially with Persicaria ‘Lance Corporal’. Isn’t that a perfect name for the leaves with the chevron markings? It used to be called Tovara virginiana, but I didn’t know the new name until I saw it on Scott’s wonderful blog.

It will be interesting to see who will win this battle between the bronzy sedum and the golden creeping charlie. Right now I’m liking the way they are cooperating to weave a carpet of color.

You can see that war going on in the background here, setting the stage for Juniperus communis ‘Gold Cone’ to put on the command performance that happens only this time of year, when the new growing tips emerge all fresh and golden.

Are these growing tips or flower buds on the Ozothamnus ‘Sussex Silver’? Only time will tell, as this is their first appearance in the three years we have had this plant.

Another ground-covering sedum, this a very small leaved variety, covers bumpy ground in no time. This started out as a 4″ pot from the supermarket, and it does a good job of keeping weeds at bay. I just happened to catch it when a few red petals had fallen from the Rhododendron. What are the chances of that ever happening again?

Foliage follow up comes right after Bloom Day, and is the brainchild of Pam. Best hurry on over there to see what the rest of the foliageans have to offer.

Even with the May(hem) of flowers running riot in our yards, foliage holds its own.

From the moment it begins to emerge from winter’s slumber, all bristling with fresh “new green”, to its red-tinged dying act, the foliage of Acanthus spinosa threatens to upstage its dramatic flower spikes.

The few 4″ pots of Cornus canadensis that I planted at the woodland’s edge are beginning to fill in nicely. Most of the dogwoods are deer magnets, but they seem to leave this alone (knock wood).

Ferns are beginning to migrate into planting beds, and welcome to them. Especially when they pair so nicely with the Persicaria ‘Red Dragon’.

The new growth on the evergreens gives them a wonderful dimensionality, like on this Picea abies ‘Nidiformus’, sometimes called a Nest Spruce, for the way it spreads out in a way that might invite passing birds to take up residence.

Maple leaves are beautiful in all stages, but especially in the spring and fall.

Poncirus trifoliata ‘Flying Dragon’ is at its best, with leaves and blossoms emerging simultaneously and still allowing the twisted, thorny nature of the superstructure to shine through.

As pretty as any flower, Heuchera ‘Caramel’ will keep this color nearly year-round, producing fairy wands of blossoms almost as an afterthought.

This is no afterthought: check out Digging and let Pam introduce you to others with foliage on the brain.

When we first moved here, we bought 100 tiny seedlings of giant sequoias. They were about the length of a new pencil, but much skinnier. Heeled into a long trench, over half of them did well, a rate of success somewhat higher than we had been led to expect. After a couple of years, they needed to be potted up to grow on for another two or three years. By then, they were looking more like they might amount to something. We gave some of them away, repotted a few to larger pots and scattered the rest around our place. Here is one of our seven-year-olds:

The idea is that one day the property will vaguely resemble the grounds of Reed College (minus the grand old buildings, of course).

Richard zeroed in on this Czothamnus ‘Sussex Silver’ on a trip to Cistus a couple of years ago. It is growing speedily, as predicted, but we have yet to see it bloom. Who cares? The silver, needle-like leaves are what create the soft texture. A correction, provided by the knowledgeable Loree of Danger Garden fame: it is Ozothamnus, with an O, still a fairly uncommon plant.

Here’s a close-up to show you what I mean. Who knows: it may soon become a candidate for a Bloom Day post if the white buttons that fade to terra cotta ever put in an appearance.

Sometimes a common plant can be just what is needed for color and texture. Chamaecyparis pisifera ‘Lemon Thread’ is one of those.

A long-dead Acacia provisima is hosting a party of beautiful fungi cascading down the trunk like a diva’s boa.

We are lucky to have all of the fascinating foliage to distract us from the recalcitrant spring, and lucky that Pam at Digging has created a forum for us to share and enjoy.

No matter what else is going on (or not) in the garden, we always have this.

Of course, during these bleak, rainy days, they stand more as dark sentinels, but I thought I would show them to you catching the morning light.

And I especially like this shot, taken that same morning.

Is this lichen or moss? I don’t know, but I sure do like the way it has encrusted the trunks of the Cleredendrum tree.

The heaths and heathers, I plant not for their blooming season, but for the way they color up in early spring. This one is called, appropriately, ‘Red Fred’.

Out back, in the “dry” berm, things did not go so well. The Opuntia has turned to mush. The main paddle under there may survive. It looks pretty good. I’m guessing I should hustle out there and cut off all the squishy parts. Any thoughts on that? I had feared that this would overtake the whole bed, so maybe this is not such a bad development.

The good news in that area is that the Agave neomexicana pulled through like a champ. Thanks go to Maurice Horn at Joy Creek Nursery for steering me to this one after failing with some others chosen with no help from an expert.

And thanks to Pam at Digging for creating a venue where we can all celebrate the true stars of our gardens, the foliage.

Every once in a while the big box stores put out some very cool plants. I love the way the little tufts of Armeria maritima ‘Nifty Thrifty’ show up against the dark mulch. You may not be able to tell from the picture, but the grassy leaves are variegated with yellow-green and white.

Spiky leaves of Acanthus spinosa are every bit as decorative as the flower spikes. An added plus: the deer leave these alone, munching, instead, on the smoother foliage of A. mollis.

A friend gave me two curry plants. This one sets off the peony foliage turning color and the dark Weigelia ‘Wine and Roses’ in the background. The other one is planted nearby and is a scraggly mess.

Pinus densiflora ‘Oculus Draconis’ has produced cones for the first time. It will thus be forgiven for failing to maintain the stripes on its needles.

That central paddle was all there was when I planted the Opuntia in the spring. At this rate it will take over the whole bed in no time. Something is nibbling on that paddle catching the sunlight. Any ideas? I have been unable to catch the culprit in the act.

I had begun to think this berm was where plants went to die, but everything put here last spring is going great guns. The Yucca ‘Bright Edge’ is even surrounded by babies. I just hope when winter comes it will be kind.

Astrolepis sinuata, also known as wavy cloak fern.

Glaucium flavum, or Horn poppy.

I am actually a day ahead of schedule for once, but if you share a passion for foliage, you will want to visit Pam tomorrow to see her photos. By going to the comments you will gain entry to many other proud foliage growers. Have fun!

I always have loved the architecture of Hebes, but my green thumb turned black whenever I tried to keep one looking good. Until, that is, I discovered ‘Quick Silver’. As you can see, it has very small leaves, and a sprawling, open habit. It started small, but has now spread to cover most of this gravel berm. Other plants grow through it here and there, and the gravel and river rocks are still visible between the branches.

As the buds swell (a few have burst), this unidentified aster is at its peak of perfection…a froth of green.

Seeing it from this angle, the delicacy of the foliage is more evident.

Persicaria ‘Red Dragon” spends the summer dressed in plummy shades of purple. Only now does it begin to earn its name.

Euphorbia ‘Persian Velvet’ is denser and, well, velvetier than wulfenii, and about half the size.

It also holds its shape year-round.

Lonicera nitida ‘Lemon Beauty’ is a common plant for a reason. Supremely hardy and fast growing, it also is easily propagated, giving me a shot at the repetition I was awed by in my last three posts.

Up close, the tiny striped leaves reveal the secret to the glowing effect it projects from a distance.

I like the color contrast of pairing it with Berberis thunbergii pupureum. Verging on the “small leaf syndrome” dreaded by Frances, I threw in some grasses, a dogwood and some other departures for textural interest.

Finally, Cryptomeria japonica ‘Sekkan Sugi’ stands alone. I have been toying with the idea of creating a bed around her, but hesitate to detract from the way she stands out against the dark background of cedars. The deer had a go at destroying our dear Sugi, so that explains the naked bottom section.

Foliage gets its due each month on the day after Bloom Day. Don’t go by me…I am a day late. This was Pam’s brainstorm, and you can see more by clicking here. Scroll down to her Sept. 16 post, and you will find treasure. Go to the comments on that post to find even more.