Splayed and Twisted

Posted on April 14, 2020 by Tina

Splayed and twisted describes so much of life at the moment, but in the garden, splayed and twisted are often normal happenings.

The scarlet and gold fluted flowers of Coral honeysuckle, Lonicera sempervirens, span outwards and downwards, trumpeting their beauty and wildlife value. Each await visits from their pollinator partners.

Some of the cheekier visitors steal nectar, rather than fulfilling pollinator expectations.

Nevertheless, I’m certain that eventually native bees, butterflies, moths, or birds will happen by to sip the good stuff from the tubular openings and carry pollen grains to parts unknown.

I grow several Red yucca, Hesperaloe parviflora, plants and all are pushing up their bloom stalks, daily and at a rapid pace, for this season’s bloom show. This one is reaching for the clouds, but hampered by its twisted ways.

Just beginning its push skyward, the curvy anomaly, known as fasciation, has kicked in. It’s unknown why stems occasionally go wavy-gravy or flowers turn into two-headed floral freaks, but it happens. It’s not a big deal in the plant world, because fasciation isn’t generally indicative of a spreading disease event or a genetically inferior plant. When the weird wonder occurs in the garden on a stem or flower head, it’s easily remedied by pruning out the botanical boo-boo. Or the gardener may leave it, as an acknowledgement of life’s vicissitudes.

I don’t plan to prune this stalk because even if it doesn’t grow-up straight or arched like its sibling stalks, pollinators (with the possible exception of hummingbirds) will find the flowers. Aside from Red yucca’s beauty to my eyes, the attraction to pollinators is the reason these perennials have a place in my garden.

The curvy one’s neighbor, an offshoot of the same mother plant, has grown about 4 feet tall. Single blooms, arrayed along the stalk, will soon open.

In a different part of the garden, another of the same species is bursting at its petals with salmon-hued goodness, ready for the winged-things to feed from.

The garden provides surprises, mostly good, always fascinating.

I’m joining in with Anna for Wednesday Vignette, check out her lovely Flutter and Hum for garden stories–the funny, the weird, the wonderful. Also, it’s April Bloom Day! So Carol’s gorgeous May Dreams Garden celebrates blooms –pop over to enjoy blooms from many places.

Color Wheel

Posted on February 15, 2020 by Tina

In the color wheel, red and yellow bookend a range of oranges. There’s no book-ending in my Central Texas garden, though. The color wheel, well-represented throughout, is engaged, even in winter.

This past week saw the first blooms of the Coral honeysuckle, Lonicera sempervirens. For now, only one bloom in this drooping cluster is willing to flounce its yellow petticoat.

Clusters of coral-red blooms, skirted with golden-yellow frills, bloom on and off throughout spring. When the rains are generous, this vine flowers well into summer.

Petite Hymenoxys, Tetraneuris scaposa, sends up sunny winter daisies, each of which dance in chilly breezes atop slender stems.

The Hymenoxys bloom in spring and occasionally in autumn; flowers hunker down in dormancy during the hot months of summer. The evergreen, grassy clumps from which hail the stems and blooms, are always present, permanently marking the plants’ homes.

As mentioned in my last post, orange is this winter’s signature color. Mexican honeysuckle, Justicia spicigera, is covered in tubular orange goodies, eager for pollinators to awake and work.

Plenty of honeysuckle orange decorates my winter garden.

Globe mallow, Sphaeralcea ambigua, opens for honeybees each cold day, once the sun warms its petals.

Globe mallow dots its foliage with orange-petaled beauty.

I miss a good, hard freeze which sends the garden into rest and simplicity. But enjoying blooms in winter? Well, that is hard to beat.

Enjoy blooms from many places by checking out May Dreams Gardens, Carol’s monthly marking of blooms.

Seeing Red

Posted on April 15, 2019 by Tina

April is typically portrayed as a month full of pink, lavender, and yellow. This pastel pulchritude reflects traditional concepts of new and fresh, infant and innocent. My garden currently provides this zeitgeist of spring hue, but what grabs my attention in mid-April are the vibrant hots in the garden.

I’m seeing red.

Many years ago, a German friend gifted to me a handful of poppy seeds. Since then, these harbingers of spring and symbols of remembrance pop for a month or so, usually March to April.

The blooms keep honeybees busy,

…and sway in gentle breezes.

As the poppies are showing off in sunny spots, a native Texas woodland perennial, the Cedar sage, Salvia roemeriana, also rocks its red. Cedar sage are happier nearer to the ground and they bloom in shady parts of the garden.

There’s some vertical hot rocket red, too. Climbing up a fence, is Coral honeysuckle vine, Lonicera sempervirens, decorated with clusters of tubular crimson, with a flair of yellow. Native green metallic bees and my honeybees vie for nectar-slurping positions. If there are hummingbirds who’ve already arrived from Mexico and Central America, they’ll also buzz for these yummy blooms. But so far this spring, it’s just the insects that I’ve seen at the honeysuckle blooms.

April love is like a red, red rose–or, as it happens, many Martha Gonzales roses. The two shrubs–side-by-side buddies–sparkle with red petals, rich with deep green foliage. They welcome walkers to my garden.

Fragrant blooms, each with a dash of bright white, are dramatic foils to the more delicate spring blooms.

Okay, it’s a cheat, but this Texas Beargrass, Nolina texana, sits blooming in a red pot. The bloom stalk is akin to the April pale pinks, but the pot is hot.

Soft and pastel, or loud and hot–blooms are boss and you can see more beautiful blooms by checking out May Dreams Gardens and her Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day.

Happy April blooms!