Garden: Epilobium angustifolium album--Am I Gonna be Sorry?

Remember last Spring when I grew some Epilobium (now Chamerion) angustifolium album from seed?  The seeds were soooo tiny!

Epilobium angustifolium album seeds--each is so tiny that it would barely
 fill the counter in the "8" in the date on the penny.

I grew two batches, one in grow pellets and one in a milk carton greenhouse.  

Epilobium seedlings growing in the milk carton greenhouse.

I got 5 seedlings from each batch, but only the ones grown in the milk carton thrived and grew strong.  It was fortunate that they did as I had hoped to end up with EXACTLY five plants.

Epilobium seedlings potted on.

I lost one of the adolescent plants due to a botched transplant attempt, but four plants lived and each went on to produce a single, wispy stalk topped with a single bloom.

Epilobium angustifolium album glamor shot.

A couple of weeks ago, I took advantage of a sun break to wander around the garden admiring fresh Spring growth.  What are these seedlings?, I wondered.  At first, I thought they might be either lilies or alliums--neither plant has ever self-seeded in my garden, so I have no idea what the seedlings look like.  But, a bit of internet sleuthing dispelled these thoughts.  Then, I realized that they MUST be the Epilobium babies!  Last year's scrawny single-stemmed plants have produced about 10 robust stems apiece.  

"Mystery seedlings" on March 13, 2016, growing among alliums.

Here they are, today, growing strongly.  Am I gonna wish that I hadn't planted them?

A sunny, cell phone picture shows robust growth.

I think I'll be OK for the moment, at least.  I planted the Epilobium with the hope that they would mingle with the out-of-control hardy Geranium "Jolly Bee".  And the runners are supposed to be easy enough to pull out if they encroach on the more delicate garden plantings.  Still...I worry about plants that reproduce by a factor of 10.

Garden: A Gift from Nature

The sounds of machinery in the neighborhood alerted me to the fact that my neighbor was pruning her trees.  Unfortunately, this magical little hummingbird nest was a casualty.  No birdy lives were lost, but those hummers were maaaad!

Hummingbird nest

The nest is about two inches in diameter and tightly affixed to the cedar twig.  It is built from lint, wiry white hairs, lichens, and bits of moss. Inside, there are the remains of a hatched egg.

Hummingbird nest.

My neighbor plans to keep the nest as a curiosity.  I hope to get another opportunity to photograph it in more optimal conditions.

Garden: Pre-Spring, 2016

On February 19th, this became the wettest Winter on record for the Seattle area and we still have another week or so to go before the recording period closes.  Not particularly surprising, as this Winter seemed to be even wetter and drearier than usual.  I've been pretty satisfied, this year, with my garden design decision to forgo "Winter interest".   Nope.  I'm not going to traipse around the garden--with rain dripping off my nose or down my neck, compacting already sodden soil--to inspect early bloomers and colored sticks.  I built my garden to use while the weather is nice and I can enjoy gardening activities.  Duh!  

I'm satisfied to ignore the garden completely for three or four months until Spring Fever starts bubbling.  I'm not yet feeling it, but I guess that the garden IS.  So today I had to get out there and spend a few hours cleaning up and cutting back. My efforts came a bit too late for some of the plants.  Among the grasses, Calamagrostis brachytricha and Melica uniflora were already well-sprouted and I was unable to trim out all of the spent foliage.  Well, I guess I could have if I were patient enough, but I am not.  And the (many) Anemones were already producing new growth, making it a little more tedious to selectively prune out the old stems.  I pruned down a large Nandina, so we'll see how that re-sprouts.  And I pruned the hardy fuchsias and the grapes.  I've got more to do, but the yard waste bin is full, plus one more large bag, and it started to rain so I called it quits.  

Here are some photos from the day...

Pre-Spring view of the front garden.  I tidied-up and sprinkled on some new compost/mulch.

The sweet and diminutive Melica may be trying for world domination, I don't know...

These must be Allium nigrum?  I've never before had alliums come back strongly or multiply like this.

Around back, I think this planting combo has performed well--tricyrtis, western sword ferns, and alpine strawberries.  The grassy plant is Carex tumulicola.

On the opposite side of our back door, we have Nandina, Triceyrtis, a yellow Hellebore, and Saxifraga primuloides.

Eeewwww.  The back yard still needs to be tidied.  Isn't that nasty?  The Brunnera have recently put out some new growth--I'll have to be careful when I am tidying around them.  Next year, I think I'll tidy in Fall.  I've been trying to garden "more naturally", but this is just gross and unnecessary.

Something pretty (or at least interesting) to purge the last picture from our minds--these are lichen (Cladonia) fruiting bodies.

Garden: First of the New Year

Despite the ongoing non-Winter which has confounded our gardening calendar here in the Pacific Northwest, I still feel like it is too early to declare that Spring is on its way.  Sure, a few early risers are beginning to stir and that necessitates getting out there to clear last year's sodden and rotting foliage, but I'm not yet feeling the burbling and bubbling of Spring Fever.  We've had a couple of sunny days here and there with temperatures approaching 60 degrees, but we've also had a lot of cold grey drizzle.  So far, the sum total of my time spent outside is the amount of time it takes to scurry from my front door to my car and back.

Nevertheless, this Sunday (right before the Big Game), I ventured out to Swanson's Nursery.  A visit there is always rewarding--they keep the nursery well-stocked year 'round and they always feature dynamic and interesting container plantings.  A few things caught my eye, and I thought I'd share them here:

The first is this large pot.  It's one of those newer, fiber-cement style pots.  I worry about the longevity of these because I have two in my garden that showed serious wear and tear over the course of just one year.  (The cement wore off with exposure to the elements and the fibers inside are quite visible.)  I'm attracted to the pattern, which reminds me of aggregate or scored/textured concrete.  Remember Cleve West's Chelsea Garden 2011 with the big, textured columns?  I guess I like that kind of texture/pattern.

Big pot.

There was also this very sweet Hellebore, Helleborus niger "HGC Jacob", which seemed unusually delicate and pretty--reminiscent of Anemone coronaria, or a Wood Anemone.  See how they have it styled--with a colorful Heuchera and black mondo grass?--very Pacific Northwest.

Helleborus niger "HGC Jacob".

And, finally, this huge (for retail, anyway) Edgeworthia chrysantha which seemed to be a bargain at $135.00.  Maybe they grow a lot faster than I think they do?  It was full of blooms and smelled very sweet.

Edgeworthia chrysantha

In fact, there were a lot of scented plants available.  My son and I went 'round the nursery sniffing various daphnes, sarcococca, witch hazels, and Viburnum bodnantense.  I'd like to include more of these scented late-winter bloomers in my garden.  And I will...once it warms up a bit and I declare that Spring has "sprung".

Garden: Alder Tree, How do I Loathe Thee

The alder tree.  The hated, loathed, cursed, vilified, (and ultimately tolerated because it is not my tree), alder tree.  It is planted near the south-west corner of our property.  And, although its roots may be lodged in our neighbor's soil, its canopy leans more and more over our yard each year.  Our neighbor has spoken of his plans to remove this tree, but other life events have interfered with his plans and, truth be told, gardening tasks fall low (very, very low) on his priority list.  So, why do I hate this tree so much?  Well, it drops stuff on my yard ALL YEAR LONG.

Alder trash (mostly Alder) collects in the deep, cupped leaves of the Darmera peltata.

In Spring, it covers EVERYTHING with a haze of yellow pollen, and then fallen catkins.  *And the seedlings!!!!  Kris reminded me about the seedlings this tree produces--every seed seems to germinate. *

Spring's catkins caught in my little Enkianthus tree.

In Summer, it begins to drop green leaves--these can be seen as a benefit because they add nitrogen back to the soil, but I still see the leaf litter as a net negative.

A recent picture of dropped green leaves and catkins--these must have been produced for next Spring?

In Late Summer and Fall, it drops leaves, cones, and branchlets.

Cones--stuck in the Enkianthus.

Leaf litter--none of it from trees growing on my property--and alder cones and a fallen alder branchlet.

Tree litter smothering the Acorus.

The worst thing about the Alder leaves is that they fall continuously throughout the late Summer, Fall, and into Winter.  I can go out one week and rake up four yard-waste-bags worth of leaves and then go out and do the same thing in another week or two, and again after that--it's Sisyphean.  Oh for a Ginkgo tree and its habit of dropping ALL of its leaves in a single day.

All these photos were taken on an overcast and rainy day a couple of weeks ago.  It's been super-dark, cold, and rainy for the longest time and I haven't been outside to do any gardening or photography--not that there's anything I wish to document, anyway.  Lots of squishiness and rot out there...not too much beauty--even for someone who is trying valiantly to see "beauty in the Winter silhouettes of dying perennials".

I'm definitely looking forward to the Solstice and the slow return to longer days!