Most people are familiar with the perennial yellow coneflower or black-eyed Susan(Rudbeckia fulgida). It’s a tough, cheery-looking garden perennial that has earned a place in native gardens, wildlife gardens, and just plain hot, dry difficult sites. Here’s something just a bit different. Like its tough little relative, Giant coneflower (Rudbeckia maxima) is a native perennial with seeds beloved by finches and other songbirds. But once this one starts to sprout in the springtime, it’s like it forgets to stop! Glaucous bluish leaves give rise to vertical stems that keep growing and growing straight up. Seven feet later, a familiar-looking yellow flower with a green cone in the center pops open, ready to do what coneflowers seem to be good at: producing nectar for bees and butterflies and making birdseed. Here at the Garden it is planted in the Sunken Garden area at the base of Hosta Hill, near the Japanese Garden. You can also see it from the big windows in the hallway outside the Eleanor Squirres Library. We think of it as a seven-foot -tall birdfeeder that we don’t have to refill.

It’s an often-observed phenomenon – the happy accident. Creativity thrives on finding the virtue in a mistake, and turning it into a triumph. This vertical arrangement of Corydalis and Nepeta, growing through the cracks in a weathered retaining wall in the Elizabeth and Nona Evans Restorative Garden, is a thriving, utterly unintentional example of the latest trendy craze – the green wall. And they planted themselves!

Green walls can demand careful engineering to ensure that their living facade will survive and stay decorative. Northern Ohio winters spell certain death for unprotected roots, while the summer sun  and wind make expensive irrigation systems a requirement. The most practical "living wall" in this climate is probably the most natural: a vine, rooted in the earth, and reaching for the sky.

Back to our "unintended consequence." These two self-sown companion plants have taken advantage of the other type of "living wall" design that has potential for the Ohio climate. Earth-backed retaining walls like those along highways and interstates have the insulated root zone, and natural water-holding capacity that makes for succesful vertical plantings. The fact that they bloom together in a nice complementary color palette is just icing on the cake.

Posted by Ann McCulloh

Spring is in full swing. Clusters of crabapples, swaths of tulips, bobbing daffodils and sweet-scented hyacinths make that abundantly clear! The Woodland Garden floor is carpeted with trillium, twinleaf, wood poppy and bluebells. It’s a sight to see, a Technicolor marvel complete with twittering birds and buzzing bees.

But other, humbler delights await the curiosity-seeker. A favorite spring flower of mine is concealed by curvaceous heart-shaped leaves, just inches above the ground. Wild ginger (Asarum canadense) is a delightful native wildflower that few people ever see blooming.

Its softly fuzzy maroon flowers actually rest on the ground, cushioned by fallen leaves. The open throat is an invitation to certain types of flies, which shelter there from cold weather and feast on the pollen. Although the flowers can self-pollinate, the flies also provide this service. Later on when the seeds develop, they are dragged away and buried by ants.

Despite the name and spicy-scented roots, wild ginger is not related to the Asian culinary ginger (Zingiber officinalis). It was candied or dried and made into syrup by early settlers, but that use is now discouraged due to possibly toxic compounds.

However, its use as a bandage for wounds by Native Americans has been supported by the recent discovery of antibiotic properties in the plant.

Wild ginger makes a pretty groundcover for shady or wooded spots. And the hidden flowers are another reminder of the wonderful complexity and sublety of the natural world. Wild ginger blooms in the Woodland Garden in April or May.
 

Posted by Ann McCulloh

It’s clear that interest in vegetable gardening is growing by leaps and bounds. Seed sales are up by 20 percent and the number of homes growing vegetables also rose by about 20 percent last year, according to the National Gardening Association. More and more people seem to be signing on to the idea of having fresh fruits and vegetables available right outside the back door.

The idea of perennial vegetables may be a bit slower to catch on, especially in our cold winter climate. If someone stopped you on the street, could you name a vegetable that you only have to plant once, then harvest year after year? Some of us could come up with asparagus, rhubarb, maybe artichokes if you have a favorable climate. Another moment or two of reflection and you might name Jerusalem artichokes, or “sunchokes” as they’ve been rechristened. (Did someone say "daylilies"? Yes, edible, and perennial!)

Massachusetts author Eric Tonnsemeier can add more than 100 to that list! Thanks to his recently published book, Perennial Vegetables, from Artichokes to Zuiki Taro, a Gardener’s Guide to Over 100 Delicious, Easy-to-Grow Edibles, my eyes were opened to several that are grown as ornamentals here on the grounds of the Garden. Native “ramps” (Allium tricoccum), aka wild leeks, emerge from the leaf layer in the Woodland Garden in late March every year. Long celebrated in their native Appalachian region with festivals and fund-raising dinners, they have become a prized seasonal ingredient in gourmet kitchens (with a price to match!).

The “root” (actually the underground stem) of the lovely, hardy lotus (Nelumbo nucifera) is a staple in Asian cuisine. Sweet lotus-filled buns and fritters have been favorites of mine for years. I had no idea that lotus could be successfully cultivated in a large tub, and harvested (carefully) before the winter dormancy period. If your pond is deep enough, you can leave it under water all winter.

Many of the vegetables described in the book are hardy in our climate; others are suited to a warmer zone or greenhouse. Tonnsemeier makes a specialty of growing aquatic edibles in his Massachusetts garden. Perennial Vegetables describes a cornucopia of interesting plants, and how to grow them in a well-researched and beautifully illustrated format. The book is offered in the Garden Store’s book section. It will be added to the shelves of the Eleanor Squire Library this April. (Check out the Library’s online catalogue.)

People expect beautiful flowers to smell good. The truth is, the primary role of fragrance in flowers is to attract pollinators. This is as true of orchids as it is of any other family of plants. Some of these pollinators (flies, for example) prefer very strange odors. Others don’t even have much sense of smell (birds), relying instead on visual cues to zero in on a flower. In addition, many of the artifical orchid hybrids have had the fragrance bred right out of them in the quest for ever larger more colorful blooms.

The upshot of this is that people are sometimes disappointed and even surprised by what does or doesn’t emanate from a gorgeous orchid blossom. "Catnip" and "socks" might be the verdict when someone gets a whiff of certain Oncidiums. "Nothing" might be the baffled response after a deep sniff at a stunning purple Phalaenopsis.

There is certainly no reason to stop sniffing, however. A vast number of orchids still exude the sweet, spicy fragrances that people can’t get enough of.

Cattleya, Rhyncostylis, Zygopetalum, many of the Oncidium genus, certain Cymbidiums and Miltassias - the names sound like something out of Roman military history, but the aromas are as fresh and delightful as a stroll through the Garden of Eden.

Funny footnote: If you look into the center of almost any orchid flower, you will see a small light-colored structure called the column. The column always looks to me like a human nose! It’s a silly coincidence, but it makes me laugh whenever I notice it.

It’s a shower of eye candy, an exclusive perfumery full of rare fragrances, an Aladdin’s cave of delicate. fleeting jewels. It’s Orchid Mania, again, (thank goodness!) and my favorite way to capture it before it melts away like a beautiful dream?

Ever since I got a digital camera I’ve been collecting and hoarding orchid images like a magpie, a packrat, a squirrel saving acorns. All through the year I can call them up on screen and revel in the colors, the textures, the marvelous variety of forms. And yes, sometimes even the memory of a luxurious scent will seem to float off the screen.

The anticipation of these things really does enliven the bleak February days. As if that weren’t enough, this year there is even more incentive to bring a camera along to see Orchid Mania 2010. Check out the Garden’s Orchid Mania Photography Contest, as well as the Cleveland Botanical Garden Photography Club, both new this year. And even after the show is over, look forward to a year’s worth of beautiful screensavers!

Even in the darkest days of winter – especially in the darkest days of winter- there are orchids to be found in the Eleanor Armstrong Smith Glasshouse. The past few weeks saw the annual flowering of the "Darwin Orchid," Angraecum sesquipedale (left). This immense white orchid is a native of Madgascar.

This week and for weeks to come, more and more orchids will be opening their buds in the Costa Rican biome.

This substantial Brazilian species, Oncidium ampliatum (right) , has branched flower spikes more than 2 feet long. A single plant can produce more than a hundred bright yellow flowers. 

Many of the most popular domesticated orchids bloom during the gloomy winter months – one reason why the Orchid Mania 2010 is always such a spectacular and

welcome event.

 Part II: Ornamental native plants 

 

Part one – Holiday traditions 

Of course there are evergreen trees, three species this year. Most of them are Fraser fir (Abies fraseri), one of the best, for conical shape, deep green color, great fragrance, and excellent needle retention. Best of all, the needles are blunt, so no unexpected pokes and prickles. These friendly traits are shared by the concolor fir as well. The lavishly decorated, extra tall tree featured in the Ellipse is a concolor (Abies concolor.) The third tree species, included for its pretty color is Colorado blue spruce (Picea pungens var. glauca.) No one will be hugging this one, those needles are sharp!

 

Also part of the holiday decor are long blooming Crown of Thorns (Euphorbia grandiflora and Euphorbia milii hybrids.) Have fun tracing the family resemblance between all these members of a fascinating plant family. And don’t miss the appropriately named Poinsettia called ‘Winter Rose’ – a decorator’s dream of form and texture.

Posted by Ann MCCulloh

The American persimmon (Diospyros virginiana) has a special place in the affections of people who like to harvest wild foods. The one-to-two-inch orange globes ripen late and remain on the trees into early winter, growing sweeter, until they finally soften enough to drop to the ground. Before ripening they are quite astringent, but at this soft stage they have a rich, aromatic flavor and texture all their own.

Native American people harvested the fruits to eat fresh or dry. There were also a number of medicinal uses for fruits and for bark. The word “persimmon” derives from the Algonquin name for this native fruit. European settlers quickly developed a fondness for it, and discovered dozens of new ways to enjoy it. I was fascinated to learn that people have made wine, beer, vinegar, and molasses from persimmons, in addition to the more predictable jams and baked goods. Persimmon pudding is a traditional holiday dessert in regions of the Southeast where persimmons are plentiful. I hope to try making persimmon leather if I manage to harvest any myself!

Persimmons belong to the same family as tropical Ebony trees. In fact, most of its relatives are tropical. The other widely known species of edible persimmon is Japanese (Diospyros kaki), which produces a larger fruit, but is less winter hardy. The American persimmon is hardy in zones 5-9, and can grow to 135 feet high in rich bottomland soil. It is more typically around 30 feet high, and can probably be controlled by pruning. Some plants in the wild may bear only male or only female flowers. Persimmon afficionados have developed a number of cultivars for larger, tastier and more reliable fruits, too.

The persimmon is just one of many beautiful and useful plants in the Western Reserve Herb Society’s Herb Garden. The photo depicts the small, very productive tree planted on the Herb Garden Terrace just outside of the big window of Clark Hall.