GROUND COVERS - THE UBIQUITOUS VS. THE UBIQUITOUS

After sorting through the twenty or so ideas I had for this week's post I settled on ground covers, mainly because one of my favorite natives that I've recently become obsessed with is flowering right now and I needed an excuse to showcase it.

Now to unpack the title..... over the past decade of observing trends and through the course of my own horticultural evolution, I can't help but notice how easily we ignore the plants we grow up with. Little by little, we gradually become blind to the plants we see on daily basis to the point where we don't even notice them. Familiarity breeds ambivalance, and soon they dissapear all together. And so instead of noticing the splash of pink or yellow, or lush patch bold foliage thriving in a ditch that we drive by on our way to school, work, or wherever our daily routine might take us, when we actually decide to think about planting something we head right down to our local nursery to buy one of a handful of non-native ground covers that can be found in almost every nursery and big box store in the northeast and mid-atlantic (Vinca spp., Pachysandra termanils, Hedera helix, Liriope spp., Juniper spp. and the occasional Epimedium spp., Ajuga spp., Convillaria majalis, and Lamnium spp.). This isn't to say I'm downing these plants. Their utility and vigor are unsurpassed, but because they are just so damn easy to grow they have inevitably become as benal and identity-less as the landscapes they are planted in.

As a designer I understand the temptation to use them (and can probably be caught with them on a plant list or two every now and again). But if you're a fellow gardner/designer in southern New England, the next time you get tempted by images like this:

.....here are a few plants to help you resist the urge in no particular order:

Erigeron philadelphicus (Common Fleabane) and E. pulchellus (Robin's Plantain) - My new favorites



Packera aurea (Golden Ragwort)



Maianthemum stellatum syn. Smilacina stellata (Star-flowered, Starry, or Little False Solomon's Seal)



Onoclea sensibilis (Sensitive Fern)



Viola spp., (Violets)




Maianthemum canadense (Canada mayflower)




Eurybia divaricata, formerly Aster divaricatus (White Wood Aster) and Symphyotrichum cordifolius, formerly Aster cordifolius (Blue Wood Aster)




Symplocarpus foetidus (Skunk Cabbage)

LABURNOCYTISUS, CHITALPA..... & APOGNA?!, OH MY!

This season I decided to take my first crack at a few of the hybrid ideas I've had bouncing around in my head for quite some time now... technically my second crack I guess. I actually tried last summer, but the parent plants I started got accidentally trampled to peices before I could do anything with them, so I've discounted it as an actual attempt. Needless to say I'm hoping this season will be slightly more successfull.

For anyone who isn't familiar with Laburnocytisus or Chitalpa, I mentioned them purely to establish a baseline of weirdness to demonstrate that my ideas for hybrids aren't completely implausible. Weirder stuff has definitely happened.


First on the to do list:
Apios americana x Vigna caracalla (aka Apogna)



Other than for pure entertainment purposes, what I was hoping to accomplish with this cross was to take a much under-appreciated (both horticulturally and agriculturally), but somewhat aggressive native perennial vine Apios americana, and cross it with what at least looks to be a closely related, but much showier tropical perennial cousin, Vigna caracalla to produce a (hopefully somewhat hardy) still showy and better behaved plant that will hopefully allow the larger horticulturally consuming masses to begin to appreciate A. americana. For whatever reason it seems that in ornamental horticulture sometimes it takes a novelty hybrid to highlight the understated virtues of one, or both of the parents. While there is no scientific basis other than belonging to the same family (Fabaceae) that would indicate that these two could produce fertile offspring, the visual similarities are undeniable and enough indication for me. Hopefully I'm right.




Second on the to do list.... and one I am particularly excited about trying:
Passiflora incarnata x Passiflora lutea



The simple motivation behind this cross was to retain the majority of the characteristics of P. incarnata, but improve winter hardiness. P. incarnata (as far as I'm concerned) has no faults other than being tempermental in colder usda zones (5 and 6). P. lutea on the other hand, while certainly not as showy, is more realiably hardy. Ironically, I feel the previous potential intergeneric hybrid (Apios americana x Vigna caracalla) is more likely to be a success, despite the fact that all passion flowers belong to the same genus (Passiflora). In this case P. incarnata and P. lutea inhabit a similar range, and the fact that there has not been any record of naturally occurring hybrids between the two species is not encouraging, but I will try none the less. Additionally, aside from the fact that it could just not be possible, I will have to locate plant material of both species from the northern extent of their ranges, ensuring that I'm at least starting out with the maximum possible cold adapted genetic material.


Third on the to do list:
(Rubus arcticus x Rubus flagellaris)



I have always been happy to find Dewberry (R. flagellaris) flowers poking up through the grass of an abondoned feild or at the edges of a roadway. The flowers always reminded me a bit of anemones in their delicate character. Unfortunately, the plant as a whole is anything but delicate, and has always been a bit too wide rambling, aggresive, and overly adaptable to have warranted cultivation, even though the fruits are edible and comparable to other wild-type blackberries. To temper and restrain the plant, and make it more ameable to both ornamental and agricultural cultivation, R. arcticus seemed like a perfect partner. Fairly restrained in both habit and form, soft muave-magenta (can magenta be soft?) flowers, and yummy fruit, Arctic Raspberry (Rubus arcticus) couldn't have been more complementary. Its only downside is that it is obviously not very heat tolerant, but I'm hoping the contributions by R. flagellaris will take care of that problem. Unfortunately, I will only be able to locate and obtain R. arcticus in preparation for next year, as both plants are currently in flower, and I only have have access to R. flagellaris. Ignoring the fact that the actual pollination won't happen till next year, I'm really excited to see the qualities of the first generation offspring. Between fruit, flower, and groundcover potential, I'm hoping at least one of the children will be a star.

However, even if my all my efforts prove fruitful (get it?), the storage, stratification, treatment, and (with a lot of luck) successful germination of any viable seed will be the most difficult part. Lucky for me (and now for you too!) I know of 2 great sources that will hopefully help me out: William Cullina's Wildflowers: A Guide to Growing and Propagating Native Flowers of North America and Joseph Tychonievich's Plant Breeding for the Home Gardener: How to Create Unique Vegetables and Flowers.

Wish me luck and happy hybridizing!!!!

TROUT, CRABS, AND..... ROADWAYS?!!!

I was trying to be cute for my first post and have some sort of oceanic theme.... but as it turns out trout are a freshwater fish, so technically I don't think they qualify. So much for being clever.

Anyway after almost careening off the road to get a better look at my first local Trout Lily sighting, I realized my bike route was along a huge colony of these unassuming, yet beguilingly beautiful plants.


The road I almost died on


Erythronium americanum flower and foliage

Erythronium americanum aka Trout Lily or Dogtooth Violet (and a few others) is small bulbous spring ephemeral that belongs to a genus of some 20-30 similar plants, many of which also have the spotted/mottled leaves that make the group so damn cool .... and where the trout part of the name comes from. Apparently this mottling helps break up the form of the plant against the background of leaf litter where the plant is usually found, making it difficult for deer and other color limited herbivores to make out the solid form of the plant. To them, apparently (aside from blue and yellow hues), everything appears monochromatic, so the trout lily would be indistinguishable in hue from the surrounding leaf litter to begin with... add the mottling and presto! deer camouflage. Aside from being sooo excited (yeah maybe a little sad) to come across this exotic looking plant on the side of the road on the outskirts of Boston, the shear size of the colony was huge! Enough writing..... time for MORE PICTURES!


Maianthemum racemosum with non-flowering single leaf colony of Erythronium americanum below


Erythronium americanum flower and foliage


Erythronium americanum flower and foliage


Erythronium americanum flower and foliage


Erythronium americanum flower and foliage


Erythronium americanum flower and foliage


Erythronium americanum seed formation

Ironically all of the flowering plants I came across were a few feet from the adjacent road. While the interior of the woodland was covered with single leaves (only plants that put up 2 leaves produce flowers) I couldn't find a single flower. Unfortunately, someone's long forgotten patch of Lily-of-the-Valley (Convallaria majalis) was gradually marching towards the colony. Wamp wamp. Hopefully it won't be a one sided fight, but I'm not optimistic.


The fragrant invasion, Convallaria majalis colony encroachment


Convallaria majalis flower and foliage

Now for the crab part.

Thought I'd continue with another under-appreciated and often ignored plant... the Crab Apple. Growing wild in sometimes downright trashy places, you'll be hard-pressed to find any country road (or sometimes very much not country roads) that don't have a few crabs that have managed to shoulder out whatever competitive (and usually non-native) vegetation they find themselves growing next to. I was actually a little crabby (get it?) to find that the Crabs we see growing along our roadways, abandoned fields, and whatever other little plot of land people have tromped around on, are actually not native. Not to say the northeastern U.S. doesn't have a few of its own native species (Malus coronaria and Malus ioensis) but the crab apples you see, especially in New England, are most likely a homogenized conglomeration of these as well as many other agricultural and ornamental species (M. pumila, Malus x domestica, M. sylvestris, M. baccata, M. floribunda, M. hupehensis, M. sargentii, M sieboldii, and the list goes on). While it might seem crazy, all members of the malus genus are quite promiscuous (aka inter-fertile) producing individuals with countless intermediate and unique forms, flowers, fragrances, fruits, etc. As far as I can gather this homogenized group has no official designation, and because all great things should have names I'll refer to the mixed up group as Malus x intermedia, at least until I find their proper name.


Malus x intermedia, blushed variant form and flower


Malus x intermedia, blushed variant flower



Malus x intermedia, mature form in woodland


Malus x intermedia, juvenile form by roadside


Malus x intermedia, wine variant flower


Malus x intermedia, wine variant flower


Malus x intermedia, white and pink variant form


Malus x intermedia, pink variant flower


Malus x intermedia, white variant flower