Ask us, and well, after last week, we might have to say Felder Rushing. IMA TV stopped to chat with the Southern gentleman in the Oldfields orchard while he was at the IMA for his talk as part of our Planet Indy series. Check out the latest IMA TV episode and you’ll see why we’re crazy for this offbeat gardening guru.

There now. Wasn’t that nice? Now, let’s get right on to the story.

When I was a small child growing up in southern Indiana there was no such thing as a daffodil. There just wasn’t. Jonquils were not to be found. Narcissus (Narcissi?) were as non-existent as interstate highways. You only knew the gravel road and you only knew “Easter Flowers.” And they were yellow.

They were all yellow (including the one double one) with the exception of a mysterious double white. That double white had the very same shape as the double yellow and they didn’t always open completely. It was a special year when you got most of them to bloom out completely. To this day I have no idea what those special conditions are.

We had lots of the traditional yellow trumpet shaped ones in our yard. Every spring they would push their sturdy strap shaped leaves through the clayey soil and the fresh green grass (okay, some grass with mostly white clover). Easter flowers were tough. They had to be to survive nine children, an assortment of dogs and pups, plus the occasional sow or cow out for a spring stroll. They can also fend off deer and rodents. They grew and bloomed in the shade of the old walnut and sugar maple trees, in the sunny open areas of the yard, and right along the edge of the gravel road. They lived in the dry areas and the wet areas. They were tough and reliable.

We always picked some for bouquets, sometimes dying the water green or blue and watching as each day the color showed up in the flowers more and more. It would follow the veins right to the tip of the trumpet creating vivid multicolored flowers. I haven’t tried that in years. Maybe it is time.

I am not certain if the doubles were always in the yard because I remember when we started collecting them from the old homestead on my uncle’s farm just at the top of the hill behind our farm. We would dig them in bloom. They always survived even if it took an extra year to bloom again. I think his plowing the field near the homestead kept the bulbs healthy by dividing them ever so often. On a late collecting trip we discovered the small flowered Pheasant’s Eye daffodil. The tiny yellow cup with a red rim was surrounded by perfect little white flat petals. And they were fragrant. We added these to our collection.

The first daffodil I ever bought was Mrs. R. O. Backhouse, white with a “pink” cup. You had to squint real hard to call it pink. It was the softest salmon. I paid 75 cents for three bulbs from Henry Field Seed Company. I remember taping the quarters to an index card or something. It was like a hundred bucks to me. That clump multiplied over time with no real care at all. Years later I found out it was an heirloom variety. Forty or so years later they are still there. Here’s an image I found at Old House Gardens on the right.

Today there are many pink daffodils along with reds, oranges, whites. On average when we talk about pink, red, or orange we are talking about the corona (the cup or trumpet in the middle) not the perianth (the petals – really a combination of petals and sepals- surrounding the cup). Along with the colors are all the forms – double, split cup, tazetta, small cup, large cup, twelve in all. You can have daffodils blooming from February through May. They can be only a few inches tall or a foot and a half tall. Here’s a sampling taken this week from our gardens at the IMA .

The Indiana Daffodil Society and the American Daffodil Society can tell you lots more. The Heaths of Brent and Becky’s Bulbs also have an excellent book, Daffodils for American Gardens.

You can also come to the gardens here and see thousands upon thousands of them in bloom this very week-end.

Don’t forget your bonnet for the Easter Parade. And since you know I’m all about the sweet stuff let me just say I hope the Easter Bunny brings you lots of candy, sweet sugar coated candy.

Check it out! We’ll have a treasure trove of unique plants and there’s bound to be something on that list calling your name.

Dicentra 'Burning Hearts' courtesy of Walters Gardens, Inc

It was one of those rare days when the fog got worse as the morning went on. I think it was heaviest about 8:30am. Two volunteers and I were working on the South Parking Lot Hill doing spring clean-up, raking out leaves and twigs then cutting back the plants. The leaves of the Carex muskinguminsis and Diarrhena americana were frozen!

I had to beat the rake through them to get out the tree leaves and twigs!

The temperature at 9am was only around 32 degrees. Not sure how cold it had gotten overnight. But a landscape can be very pretty in the fog. I captured these photos after it had started to lift really.

Look how these yellow flowered plants glow in the low light of a gray morning. Yellow is so welcome in spring.

Here’s the Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Arnold Promise’ (witchhazel)

Here’s the Cornus mas (cornelian cherry dogwood).

There are so many plants in bloom right now it is amazing. With 70+ degrees coming for several days this week by the week-end it will be an explosion of color. You need to visit and visit often.

Crocus seiberi ‘Tricolor’ around Sutphin Fountain.

The three colors in ‘Tricolor’.

Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) still make me happy no matter how many years I’ve seen their spring show.

Winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis) are very happy little bulbs.

Even on a gray day their bright yellow color absolutely glows.

The honey bees love them. Look at all the pollen on the bees leg.

The bees tended to take flight just as I was ready to snap the photograph.

Bee butt.

Now get your butt to the IMA and enjoy this glorious weather.

Snowdrops behind Deer-Zink are blooming.

Some of the Anemone blanda ‘Blue Shades’ in the beds around the Sutphin Fountain are very close to blooming.

Witchhazels are blooming all over the place.

Perennials are pushing new growth.

And I saw winter aconite that will be in bloom tomorrow. Hellebores should be showing color too.

So much happening. More later.

(via IMA Flickr 2004)

Bambi is a browser. This does not mean that deer tend to thumb through magazines at the newsstand instead of making a purchase. No, they browse in the sense of “chew off the buds and tender twigs of trees and shrubs.” Sure, deer eat grass and hostas and other herbaceous plants, but they have a fondness for woody plants enjoying the young stems and sweet buds of fruit trees and shrubs – I need those buds for next spring’s blossoms. And they like to take naps in the flower beds. So, if you see Odocoileus virginianus out in the gardens, please suggest they trot back over to 100 Acres or Crown Hill.

2009 was a great year to be gardening, because there was plenty of rain and it was not too hot. That also made for a great year for plant pathogenic fungi, which spread more readily during damp weather. In particular downy and powdery mildew defoliated my squash. Unless the plant is a cultivar with disease resistance, it is necessary to spray fungicide once or twice per week. That is NOT something I will be doing, so I may opt for newer varieties if I cannot find resistant heirlooms.

Us plant wonks got a little excited when a seldom seen parasitic plant showed up this past year. Dodder (one of several species in the genus Cuscuta ) probably arrived as a contaminant in some clover seed. Dodder is not a fungus, but a true flowering plant whose seed germinates in the soil, but it promptly attaches itself to another plant, in this case clover. The dodder then loses its roots in soil, and lacking chlorophyll of its own, sucks nutrients out of its host. The stem of the plant is thinner than a paperclip, with flowers about the size of this letter “o”.

Due to a lapse on my part, cabbage loopers (the larvae of a moth) wrecked havoc on my Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, and kale. Not much thicker that a pencil lead, they can quickly defoliate cole crops. Fortunately, there is a highly effective organic control, a naturally occurring bacteria called Bascillus thuringiensis (often sold under the brand name Dipel or BT) which only attacks larvae of moths and butterflies (collectively referred to as the order Lepidoptera). Unfortunately, Bt does not work if it is sitting in the bottle on the shelf.

The most diligent pest was the bushy-tailed marauder the fox squirrel (Sciurus niger).

"Dug the Dog"

The cute critters started the season by eating the few apples that “set” on the newly planted trees in the Tanner Orchard. Then they moved on to strawberries. And finished the season munching on sunflowers. Hrrr-rumph.

Sharing sometimes seems over-rated!

View through the orchard

Though much of landscape architecture involves the careful manipulation of spaces, the gardens at Miller House represent one of the best examples of the craft. Working closely with the home’s architect, Eero Saarinen, Kiley laid out a plan which closely reflects and reinforces the strict geometry of the residence. As with his many other commissions, Mr. Kiley used a limited palette of plants. This was not to be a garden of show-stopping color and horticultural diversity.

Rather, his use of hedges – mainly arborvitae and yew – served to create architectural “rooms”, not unlike the arrangement of rooms and ‘zoned’ spaces in the pavilion-like residence. The outdoor rooms are interconnected through corridors of trees – rows and blocks of honey locusts, oaks, horsechestnuts, redbuds, and even apples – as well as large expanses of paving, both hard and soft. These rectangular forms are further enhanced by the beds beneath, whether planted in spring bulbs or summer annuals, or simply mulched. Together, these elements and the extensive use of groundcovers provide a year-round structure, so important in shaping the spaces and giving clarity.

View through White Oaks to East lawn

While this is all so obvious when looking down upon the blueprints and plans, it also comes across marvelously in a more subtle way when one enters the property on foot. Though Saarinen wished for his clients, the Millers, to enjoy the views into the landscape through his ample windows, that view is carefully and purposefully halted at the edges of the property. This is an inward-looking site, versus something like ‘Naumkeag’ in Massachusetts or Philip Johnson’s ‘Glass House’ in Connecticut, where the view to distant mountains and hills is extremely important. Tall hedges and carefully sited rows and clumps of trees prevent vistas into neighboring yards. Instead, one’s views follow a lower plane, usually beneath the limbs of trees, along the tops of low hedges, or along an allee. It’s all about the use of space, and what a space it is. What if geometry class had been as much fun as this!

South drive

I think what we’re talking about is the poetry of space, that’s what landscape design is all about. – Dan Kiley

“Both escape and embrace winter?”, you ask. My, you are a nosy one. I’ll be nice and not tell you to mind your own damn business. For me searching through the catalogues this time of year really is an escape and an embrace of winter.

The escape part might be the easier to understand. I can run away to spring and summer when I will be able to plant the plants and sow the seed. I can imagine how beautiful that Colocasia ‘Diamond Head’ will look with Salvia ‘Black and Blue’.

I can see how pretty those orange bell peppers will look sautéing in dab of butter and olive oil with some green zucchini and purple eggplant. All very summery daydreams warming my world on a day below freezing with the ground covered in snow.

Now, the embracing of winter part might be less obvious. But think about it for a moment. Until sometime in December the garden is usually keeping me pretty darn busy. In October and November I’m so busy cutting back annuals, digging cannas and dahlias to be stored in the basement, and potting up salvia and hibiscus and alocasia to be overwintered near a window that final clean-up occurs late often. Then the holidays hit. Poof. Another two weeks gone. It is really sometime in January before I can shift out of go-go-go gardening mode and shift into dream gardening mode. So yes, I embrace winter for giving me time to dream garden. And that is what looking at all the wonders in all the catalogues is for me – dreaming of how great that new plant will look with the Dahlia ‘Not Hot Chocolate’ sleeping in the basement, dreaming of how perfect some Okra ‘Burgundy’ will look with pepper ‘Tequila Sunrise’ next to Swiss chard ‘Oriole Orange’ next to Lantana ‘Landmark Citrus’ (hopefully surviving in a plastic bag in the basement) and rising above it all Amaranthus ‘Dreadlocks’ that self-sows around the garden.

So who is getting me to open their pages and disappear for a spell? There are so many options. It’s hard to beat Baker Creek for heirloom vegetables. But they also have rare things from all over the world plus some flowers. Tony Avent of Plants Delight is always a good read (even if you can’t always embrace the whole idea on the cover). The man can find the plants! I have a lot of stuff from there. Select Seeds is another with lots of heirlooms but it’s all about flowers and foliage (seeds, bulbs, and plants).  Brent and Becky’s Bulbs is another favorite. I can sit at my kitchen counter and just while away the hours, especially on a cold sunny day with two windows facing south. Maybe I’ll have a batch of cookies in the oven.

And on-line? Mercy sakes alive! It is a fabulous world out there. When I have not received a catalogue yet, or don’t expect to, it’s off to the iMac to see if they have their 2010 catalogue on their website (some places don’t even do a print catalogue). There’s Seed Savers Exchange, Southern Exposure Seed Exchange (p-lease, it’s southern y’all), Ronniger Potato Farm (always think I’m gonna plant potatoes), Seedhunt, Bountiful Gardens, Grow Italian, Bustani Plant Farm (are they ever tempting me this year!), Totally Tomatoes (they have peppers too). Then there are all the old stand-bys like Gurney, Jung, and Park for sure. And of course Sandhill Preservation Center (is this the year I finally order sweet potatoes?). Sandhill is one of my favorites. Not only do they have heirloom vegetables and flowers but they have heirloom and rare poultry. Lots of chickens. I love chickens. I’d love to have a chicken ranch. Not like the one in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. One with real chickens. But that isn’t part of life’s current situation. The problem with on-line? My dining room, where my computer resides, doesn’t have a southern window. Oh, but I added that opening in the wall – next to the doorway between the dining room and kitchen! Lots more light into the dining room. It’s looking like a good time to dream garden.

Sorry folks, I done runned out of time to add links to all these places in this post. But I assure you, all or nearly all, are on-line.
And another thing. I don’t need a hundred acres for that chicken ranch. You know, a lil’ ole bitty pissant country place would be just fine.

Icy roads. Short days. Bitter winds. Freezing temperatures. The bloody freaking temperatures absolutely scream winter. It’s especially a slap in the face after the extremely long beautiful autumn. But that was then and this is now and winter will be what it wants to be.

On December 2nd this is what some Echinacea ‘Sundown’ and a Campanula ‘Viking’ looked like.

On December 7th this is what my ‘Rocket Lemon’ snapdragons looked like. A lot can change in 5 days.

Now ideally you want some snow cover for the plants when it gets down in the low teens and below. Most plants are fine though. But what of my slightly more tender stuff where I’m pushing the zone envelope? Makes me a bit antsy to say the least. I should have got mulch around the other set of Colocasia ‘Tea Cups’ in my backyard. At least I got one group mulched. Maybe it’s a good experiment. See who makes it. Or doesn’t. The perennials and small shrubs that went in the ground late are a concern. I would have liked them to have a month or so of “normal” winter temperatures before the deep-freeze hit. Here again may be a good experiment.
Of course the cold weather does tend to make the Christmas decorations around the Lilly House just a little brighter. Whether it’s the trees indoors or the ones outdoors.

And it makes the 750 or so luminaria we put out for the Open House and Winter Solstice all the more beautiful. If you missed Open House you can redeem yourself by being sure to attend the Solstice events on the evening of the 17th. Just the thought of all of you coming warms my frozen candle lighting fingers right back up to blood flowing temperatures. The luminaria are truly magical.

With the snow that fell Monday morning came a reminder of why I do like winter at the same time I hate it. Hard to beat snow with evergreen foliage.

And if you can add some holly berries, well, all the better.

These shots may clue some folks in on why we don’t cut every dormant plant to the ground in late fall. All those seed heads make the best little presentation platters for the snow. They’re just beautiful.

Astilbe.

Sedum ‘Autumn Joy’.

Clematis tangutica ‘Aureola’.

Echinacea ‘Milkshake’. The seeds in there will feed the birds too.

So Winter, bring it on. Just like with people, I can’t make you do what is best so I’ll survive your spastic attentions as best I can and wait for Spring – which of course will come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. Whatever.