Enchanted April

I realize that I have fallen behind on posting about my shade garden. This has been such a busy time in the garden, not only with chores, but with things sprouting, leafing out and blooming. I'm not clear on the cause, whether it's a combination of last August's rains, the staggering about of snow and the colder than normal weather of February and March, but this April has been unprecedented in the garden. Sanguinaria have popped up all over the garden, even in places that I don't recall planting them.They've bloomed and faded already.It's been such a pleasure to work in the garden with the sweet scent of the Boxwood on the breeze. The Tree Peony, which had just one bloom last year, has eight buds. On one day, all of my Daffodils, save one, were in bloom, which has never happened before.This is the best the Bergenia has ever looked. The Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) that failed to bloom last year are again blooming. The Magnolia blooms are perfect and unsullied by frost.
I managed to keep the rabbits from damaging most of the Tulips planted in the front. (Thank you Bobbex-R.) And, most impressive of all and exciting for me, both of my Trillium grandiflorum bloomed for the first time. I had given up hope that they would ever bloom.
It's all so overwhelming, I can hardly keep up with my photos. It's all too beautiful.

Plant Sale at the Morton Arboretum

Every year, the Morton Arboretum in Lisle, Illinois, holds a three-day plant-fest for its members. If there is anything left after the member-exclusive days of Friday and Saturday, the general public is welcome to buy it on Sunday. Last year I got to the Arboretum before the sale started on the first day and stood in line. I also made way too many impulse purchases. My strategy to avoid a repeat was to arrive shortly after the sale started on the first day this year. What I hadn't counted on was the entire parking lot by the main entrance being full. After parking in a more distant lot and legging it back to the main parking lot, I entered the tent to a scene of planter collectors' heaven.Some plants were already completely sold out, and I got the last decent looking Hydrangea quercifolia 'Little Honey.' It was impossible to move without bumping into someone or being bumped. There was a huge line for paying by credit card, but I planned ahead and brought my checkbook, as the cash and check line is always much shorter. Because I had parked so far, I got a ride back to my vehicle in this:Now that's what I call service! (It was also fun.) Here's my cache of goodies:in addition to the Hydrangea, I also bought a Wisteria macrostachys 'Blue Moon' that I had been wanting, a Tiarella 'Pink Brushes' for which I had been searching for over a year, and a Tricyrtis 'Gilty Pleasures' which was strictly an impulse buy. (I'm proud of my restraint.)

But I wasn't done yet! On the other side of the Arboretum was the tent for picking up pre-ordered and pre-paid plants.This is where I picked up a variegated Cornus alternifolia, a couple of Astrantia 'Moulin Rouge' and a dwarf Goldenrod.
Because all the Daffodilsand all the Magnolias were in full bloom, and the Arboretum isn't all that close to home, I had to take a bit of a walk before I headed home with lots of great plants and a smile on my face.

My Magnificent Misplaced Mystery Magnolia

Let's get one thing clear straight away: I didn't do it. I did not plant this tree, it was here when I bought Squirrelhaven. I would never plant any tree under an overhang, and I would never plant a Magnolia so close to a building. Even though it still fit in the space in 1993, I knew it didn't belong there. I intended to move it, until I learned that Magnolias should not be transplanted. So, I was left with a Hobson's choice, leave it, or cut it down. What follows is the evidence supporting my decision to leave it.

I don't know what cultivar of Magnolia stellata or Magnolia kobus var. stellata this is, but it is clearly a superior one. While this year is a spectacular year for Star Magnolias in the Midwest, last year every one was spoiled by browned petals from the April freeze. Every one except this one. It bloomed slightly later than all the others and avoided the damage. I considered propagating it, but I learned that Magnolias are difficult to propagate and very slow growing.


This tree is beautiful in all seasons, from winter's velvety buds, to golden fall foliage, to this:Watching the buds open is such a delight.
Unlike Carol's Star Magnolia, this one has a scent, albeit an elusive one. Sometimes I can sniff the flowers and smell it, other times there's nothing, but then sometimes its wonderful fragrance is carried on the breeze. The 4-inch flowers have a faint pink stripe down the outside.Even the fallen petals are beautiful.So, although this tree is planted in the wrong place, I just can't bring myself to have it cut down. It is my favorite.

Where the Wild Things Are: an Earth Day Ramble

Way back when I got paid to type things on a PC, I used to visit Trout Park,
in Elgin, Illinois on my lunch hour. I haven't been there in about 10 years, so on Saturday, my very indulgent husband (VIS) and I decided to see it again.




Trout Park is a jewel among city parks in Illinois. Because of the steep terrain, this land was never farmed. The bluffs and the springs and seeps provide a unique habitat in Illinois. I don't know who the stewards of this park are, but whoever they are, they have done a fantastic job. Regular burning has kept out invasive exotic weeds (I didn't see a single Garlic Mustard plant), and fallen trees have helped to keep out dirt bikes and ATVs, which have devastated other hilly areas such as Deer Grove Forest Preserve in Palatine, Illinois. ("Flatlanders" - hah!) Trout Park is for the agile and sure of foot only; there are no bike paths or paved paths in the main, eastern section of the park.At one point, VIS and I had to do a sort of limbo to get under a tree fallen across the path. At the risk of sounding elitist, this limited access is a good thing, as it helps preserve the fragile flora of the area.
(On left, the buds of a Thalictrum/ on right, Trillium sessile in bud.) Improvements (funded by casino money) have been made to Trout Park recently.

On the bluffs grow savanna wildflowers, such as those above, as well as Sanguinaria canadensisMertensia virginicaToothwort (Cardamine/Dentaria laciniata)and something I don't recognize.There is also my favorite wildflower, the Rue Anemone (Thalictrum thalictroides), seen growing here with the foliage of the eponymous Trout Lily (Eythronium albidum).The only Trillium in Trout Park is T. sessile, as T. grandiflorum is deer candy, and deer frequent the park.
Down in the ravine, the dominant plant is the Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus).There are also Marsh Marigolds (Caltha palustris)growing in and around the streams. Arbor vitae (Thuja occidentalis) also grow wild here.

In Trout Park, the water seeps out of the ground, runs downhill into streams, which then empty into the Fox River, joining it on its journey to the Mississippi River and then to the ocean.This connection to the rest of the planet emphasizes the importance of preserving and caring for these little pristine islands of wildness in our midst.

(edited 4/23/08)

Help, My House Has a Green Mustache!

This month's topic for Garden Bloggers' Design Workshop at Gardening Gone Wild is front gardens. This is such a timely topic for me because I promised myself last year that this would be the year we got rid of the "Green Mustache." This Yew hedge came with the house, and I've made various efforts to shape and control it, but enough is enough.

I have no problem gardening out front; I had my garden in the front yard at my last house instead of in the back, and my current house is on a quiet street. On the other side of the front door is my mini faux-prairie garden.Here's the view from the driveway:The simplest thing to do would be to plant a mirror image of this garden in place of the Mustache. That won't work, however, because the Mustache is much shadier than the garden. I think I would like to leave the upright Yew at the corner of the house (that is, if it evers recovers from being a deer snackbar this past winter). Otherwise, it's a clean slate. Any suggestions would be most welcome.

Squirrel Wars 2008: A Weird Beginning

If there's anything worse than a clever squirrel, it's a stupid squirrel. This I just don't get: why attack things that are poisonous? Is this the squirrel version of extreme sports? A squirrel death wish? Part of hazing to get into a squirrel fraternity? This poor Hellebore was attacked twice. It is across the path from the two damaged Daffodils that were attacked on different days. I just don't get it.