Monday, November 2, 2020

A Visit to Brookgreen Gardens


Entering Brookgreen Gardens.

Recently I went down to Myrtle Beach, SC, with my husband Herb for a conference of the Dragon Society that Herb was interested in writing about. I went to keep him company and help with the seven-hour plus drive. But, I was looking for something to do to amuse myself while Herb was at the conference. Searching on-line, I found out about a wonderful botanic garden just a few miles south of Myrtle Beach--Brookgreen Gardens.

Brookgreen Plantation was founded in the 1760's, and was once the largest rice plantation in the U.S. Today, it's famous as a lovely sculpture garden with the largest collection of figurative art in the U.S., and for its wonderful botanic garden adorned with hundreds of  250-year old live oaks dripping with resurrection ferns and Spanish moss.


Lake at Brookgreen

I 'd brought my watercolor kit and sketchbook, intending to spend the day there painting. I arrived late in the morning and after parking by the Welcome Center, decided to walk around and explore a bit before settling on a spot for painting. I took the path around Jessamine Pond, where a white heron was scouting by the shore. 

 

Indian Pipes (Monotropa uniflora)

As I looked down underneath the pines, among the fallen pine needles I came across one of my favorite flowers--Indian Pipes (Montropa uniflora) right at my feet. I examined the pine needles, which were quite long, and counting bundles of three, I guessed these were from long-leaf pines (Pinus palustris) which are native to the southeastern coastal area.

There were many young Camellia bushes under the tall trees surrounding the pond--they were full of buds, indicating that these were varieties of spring-blooming C. japonicas. I took in some of the sculptures artfully arranged at strategic points along the path, taking pictures with my phone.


The live oak Allee.

As the path around the pond straightened into a long vista of the live oak Allee, I spotted the first of many of the  fall-blooming Camellias along the way. Camellia sasanqua is the species that blooms in the fall, and there were many tree-sized ones here. I was able to read the metal tags of some, others didn't have any tags, but they were all covered with lovely white and pink flowers and buds. Ah, to be in a climate zone where one could grow these!


Camellia sasanqua with Spanish moss

Camellia sasanqua x 'Sweet October'
 






































Camellia sasanqua

Sculpture in the gardens

I learned from Elaine Hawkinson, one of the very helpful and knowledgeable horticultural volunteers at the garden, that this part of South Carolina is considered to be USDA zone 8b, which the USDA map shows as having average low temperatures from 15 to 20 F degrees. Alas, my own zone 6b can average a low from -5 to 0 F degrees, and in some rare years, we've experienced as much as 10 degrees lower here!

 

Camellia sasanqua

 

Seems that South Carolina's coastal zone is the ideal climate for Camellias, as well as many other sub-tropical plants, both native and cultivated. The soils are probably ideal too, being swampy and acid.

 

Fountain and sculpture under the live oaks

Orchid with Resurrection ferns and Spanish moss on massive oak limb

The gardens are so large it was impossible to see more than a fraction in the short time I had, so I concentrated on the areas surrounding the Welcome Center. Here was a shady garden artistically planted with a mix of natives and exotics such as Euonymus americanus, also known as 'Hearts a' Busting,' and a pink Anemone japonica. There were fragrant clumps of white Ginger lily (Hedychium coronarium), a Salvia that was new to me, Salvia madrensis, and in a sunnier area, a spectacular Cuphea micropetala.

 

Strawberry tree (Euonymus americanus)

Anemone japonica

Hedychium coronarium

Salvia madrensis 'Red Neck Girl'

Cuphea micropetala

The kitchen garden had the sort of plants one would expect: herbs, salad greens, peppers, eggplant, okra, and a fountain with a marvelous sculpture of birds in flight at its center. Further along, there were more Camellia bushes, and a delightful sculpture of a Faun, or perhaps the ancient god Pan, in another of the garden "rooms."


Kitchen garden bird fountain

Sculpture of Pan


I came across a huge Brugmansia with gold trumpets, while another large thicket of Hedychium perfumed this part of the garden. This species of Hedychium coronaria was called "Mariposa" in my native Cuba, and considered our national flower, although it is a native of southeastern Asia rather than the Americas.


Angel trumpet (Brugmansia)

Deep in shade I found a familiar plant I'd never seen in bud--the large eight-pointed leaves indicated it was Fatsia japonica, which I knew only from indoor specimens. The buds look like miniature rounded corn cobs, but as the buds develop, the flowers will look more like the airy umbels characteristic of flowers like Queen Anne's lace.

 

Flower buds of Fatsia japonica

Hardy Gloxinia (Seemannia nematanthodes)
 
Candlebush tree (Senna alata)

Another subtropical plant that called for attention was a bright red Hardy Gloxinia (Seemannia nemantathodes)--these are natives of South America. A small tree with candlelabras of deep yellow flowers and distinctive pinnate leaves that close at night, Senna alata (formerly Cassia alata) decorated this section of the garden. Outside the Welcome Center I found a table displaying many of the plants flowering in the garden, labelled with their common and botanical names--a very useful reference!


Botanical education display

There was one intriguing plant that I wasn't able to identify, and Elaine was not familiar with it either. The flowers are unusual, and I'm hoping that perhaps one of my readers may be able to identify it, or give me some clues. Below are two photos of the mystery flower, showing the leaves with the  tall blooming spike, and a close-up of the flowers.


Mystery plant.

Mystery plant.

Under a green ash tree.

 In the last garden room I entered, there was a very large tree labeled as a green ash. This was an unusual sight for me, accustomed to seeing only dead or dying ash trees in our area--the emerald ash borer has destroyed thousands of ash trees in the Shenandoah Valley. To see so healthy and beautiful a specimen as this was memorable.

 After my walkabout around the gardens, I decided to skip lunch and went back to my car to get my painting gear. I set up right by the pond I'd first walked around. My first glimpse of the gardens seemed the most iconic view, and here I'd stay shady and cool during the hottest part of the afternoon.

 

Brookgreen Gardens watercolor, 10"h x 14"w.

 I spent the next few hours there, happily working away until about four in the afternoon. I wasn't completely finished with my painting, but my body was stiff from sitting, and I had enough down on paper to be able to finish it later with the aid of my photos. Here's the finished painting.

ADDENDUM:

The plant data team at Brookgreen identified my mystery plant as Turk's Turban, Clerodendrum indicum, a native of  Southeast Asia, introduced into Hawaii and the southern states. It's also known as Tube Flower in the southern U.S.


Friday, October 16, 2020

Colorful Fall

My back yard in mid-October.

 

It's looking like we'll have a very colorful fall this year--the night temperatures began to drop in September, and have stayed cool, creating the perfect conditions for the emergence of fall colors. The 'Autumn Blaze' maple tree has turned to its characteristic red, as the swamp sunflowers (Helianthus angustifolium) display their bright yellows. This year a seedling of one of the swamp sunflowers managed to establish itself in my rose bed--it's not the best color combination with my roses, but I've been reluctant to dig it up and move it while it's in bloom. I'll do so as soon as it has finished its display.

 

West yard rose bed.

Front yard, mid-October.


The asters have started their annual show--this genus was recently renamed after genetic studies revealed significant differences so that botanists have subdivided these into several genera--Symphyotrichum is one of them. Symphyotrichum laeve opens earlier, and S. oblongifolium a bit later in the season, just as the sunflowers are starting to fade.


Symphyotrichum laeve with Amsonia hubrichtii behind.

Swamp sunflowers (Heliantus angustifolium) and asters (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium)

Purple asters and swamp sunflowers

The Chrysanthemum is another familiar plant genus that has undergone many changes recently--our garden Chrysanthemums had been reclassified as Dendrathryma indicum, but resistance to this change was so great, that the old florist's name, Chrysanthemum indicum has prevailed. By any name, the Chrysanthemum is a garden staple that adds touches of bright color to any flower bed. Mums don't like to stay in one spot for too long, so after a few years, I usually dig mine up and transplant portions to other beds. This way, as the plants multiply, my garden gets populated by a variety of colors.

 

Purple Chrysanthemums

Pink Muhly grasses and mums

Shasta daisies (Chrysanthemum leucanthemum)

 

This year my Shasta daisies finally produced decent blooms--they hadn't bloomed much in the past couple of years. I reworked the entire "Badlands" bed some two years ago to improve the soil, and moved the Shastas forward, adding the native purple aster behind. The six Purple de Oro daylilies in front were added recently. Watering during the July drought helped, but I think it was the copious rains in August that got the daisies to bloom. 


Bearss limes


My Bearss lime tree has been very productive this summer; the fruits that had set during the winter survived their summer migration to the porch and grew enormous. These are two that I harvested last week. The plant set more fruit during the summer, so a new set of limes is now developing for the winter season. I'll be bringing it indoors soon, before the first frost--carefully, so as not to damage the fruit.

My Australian red lime bloomed profusely in June but nary a fruit has appeared. I wish it would set some fruit so we could see and taste them. I'm very curious to learn what they are like.


Cotton boll opens

 

The first of the black cotton bolls cracked open last week, hopefully with many more to come. Other late summer flowers such as the hardy Begonias and Angel Trumpets are still hanging in there, but they will soon be finished for the year. It's time to do more fall planting.


Hardy Begonias

Angel trumpets


I started the fall bulb planting season by digging up some of the poet's narcissus and 'February Gold' bulbs that I had planted during our first fall here. After eight years in the ground, the bulbs had become so overcrowded that they weren't blooming well. I dug them up to discover that they had formed giant clumps of bulbs which had to be broken up and separated. After working in a lot of clay-breaking material into the soil, I replanted the largest of those, and will still have plenty to give away as well as add to the back yard beds.

Thursday, October 1, 2020

September Rains

From the front porch.

 

September has been a very rainy month this year. Historically, my birthday month in this area is quite dry, with an average of 3.8 inches of rainfall, but this year my home weather station recorded 7.45 inches! Most of it came down over two very stormy days and nights, several weeks apart. We had over three inches in one night earlier in the month, and yesterday's rainfall was over two inches! It's great for the garden--all vegetation, but specially trees, really benefit from a wet fall season.

 

The back yard on Sept 30.

The front yard, Sept 30.

The cooler night temperatures have started to bring out the fall colors: the sumac in my back yard has turned deep red, the dogwoods a lovely scarlet, and even some branches of the oaks beyond are starting to change color. I'm hoping we'll have a colorful fall season this year--last year was such disappointment for "leafers" who love the fall colors, myself included.


My veggie patch with wax bean plants.

The harvest.

After harvesting the garlic in late June, I planted some wax beans in one row of the raised bed (the English peas were still occupying the rest of the space). I nursed the plants through the July heat and drought and started harvesting the wax beans in late August. These are continuing to produce--above is this morning's harvest, enough for several meals--I had no idea wax beans would be so productive! I'll definitely grow these again next year.


Viola odorata 'Queen Charlotte'

 

My recently-planted Parma violet 'Queen Charlotte' loved the rain--I bought it for its fragrance, but I've yet to get a scent from it. It hasn't produced many flowers so far, perhaps a certain number of blossoms are needed to produce the classic scent? I'm hoping it will eventually spread to make a dainty ground cover with clouds of lovely fragrance.

 

Herb's bed and the Little Indians

 

During this season, the yellow Chrysanthemums in Herb's bed and the purple asters (Symphyotrichum laeve) in the far side of the Little Indians bed predominate, while the swamp sunflowers (Helianthus angustifolius) and the leaves of the bluestar (Amsonia hubrichtii) turning gold add to the display. Last fall I transplanted some of the swamp sunflower plants from the west side of the house to these beds and they have grown well in their new sites, though not as tall as the ones growing near the house.

 

Swamp sunflowers by the house.
 
Painting demo at Art at the Mill.

 

This past Sunday was my assigned day for a painting demonstration and sale for Art at the Mill, at the Burwell-Morgan Mill in nearby Millwood. This year, the Art at the Mill spring show was cancelled due to the Covid-19 situation. For the fall, in order to avoid large crowds, the show organizers decided to try a new format, booking one artist per day (afternoon) to do a demonstration and bring some of their art to sell. 

 The day dawned very foggy and overcast, and I was afraid that my watercolors wouldn't dry well under such conditions, but fortunately as the afternoon wore on, it cleared up and I was able to do my demo just fine. Just enough people stopped by for me to sell two works, and I had a great challenge painting my beautiful red Dahlias! 

Cathy Kuehner, a photographer who works with the Clarke County Historical Association (the show sponsors), came by and took this photo, and kindly allowed me to use it for my blog. You can visit the CCHA Facebook page here.


Thursday, September 17, 2020

Turning of the Season

 

Miniature rose.


As the mornings grow cooler with the approach of the equinox, summer is drawing to an end. It's a lovely time to admire the season's growth in all its fullness before fall begins to show its effects. My potted plants outdoors have reached their peak: the miniature rose, coleus and impatiens seem to be at the maximum of beauty. Many of my tropical begonias haven't been as floriferous as in other years, I can't explain it, except that plants have their cycles, and perhaps the extraordinary heat this year had something to do with it. Or, perhaps they need re-potting in fresh soil. There's always next year.

 

Red impatiens with begonias and coleus.

Hanging baskets on porch.

Plants in the porch

The hanging baskets on the porch are spilling over with multi-colored Calibrachoas and red Begonias, while the porch protects the other summering houseplants. The hibiscus is lush with yellow blossoms and the Cuban Rain tree (Brunfelsia nitida) is about to produce another round of its tubular flowers. I set out my Cattleya orchids on the porch this year, in hopes of some flower buds, but with the overnight temperatures now in the 40's, it's time to bring them into the house--I'll have to try again next year to see if some flowers can be coaxed.


Salvia 'Black and Blue' with mums and impatiens behind.

Salvia 'Wendy's Wish'

 

My 'Black and Blue' salvia didn't start to bloom until August this year, while the re-potted magenta salvia that Lili gave me (I think it may be a variety called  'Wendy's Wish') caught up with it and surpassed it in terms of flowers--interesting contrast in the color of the foliage and the flowers of the salvias. My Chrysanthemums are starting to bloom too, orange and dusty pink in the front, and the yellow ones I transplanted to the back beds.

 

Herb's bed and the Little Indians.

The deer really decimated my sedums this year, particularly the 'Neon' variety, but some of the 'Autumn Joy' have managed to produce some flowers; I must protect them better next spring so they can make progress. The blue Ageratum in Herb's bed was a hit with the butterflies--it's starting to fade now--the aster flowers will soon predominate, along with the pink Muhly grass.

 

New tree & shrubs on the west side.

 

I've been taking advantage of the cooler weather to start planting the trees and shrubs I'd bought  earlier in the year and had been holding in large pots, waiting for a propitious time to plant. The beautiful Korean fir 'Horstmann's Silberlocke' was planted on the west side of the house; it may reach  up to 20 feet, though I doubt it will get that tall, but will remain slim at the base. The new Ceanothus 'Gloire de Versailles'--barely visible in the bed behind the Zelkova tree's trunk--will eventually become a shrub some eight feet tall and six feet around, and hopefully filled with lavender flowers to delight butterflies and other pollinators.


Hardy begonias bloom under the cherry tree.

 

The hardy begonias are blooming under the cherry tree, while the dogwood's leaves are starting to turn bronzy, announcing the change of season. My Angel Trumpet still has some flowers, and perhaps a few more are in store before it's time to bring it in for the winter.


The front walk this week

Angel Trumpets (Brugmansia hybrid)

The other evening we had an unusual visitor--a hawk perched on one of the oaks in back. He stayed there for a good amount of time, long enough for me to grab my camera and take some photos. We later  identified it as a juvenile Cooper's hawk. The beautiful creature lingered for a while, then swooped low as he flew between our house and the neighbor's before disappearing.

 

An unusual visitor.


Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Franklinia

Franklinia alatamaha, graphite sketch, 10"h x 8"w.



A couple of weeks ago I learned that the Virginia State Arboretum at Blandy Farm has a small grove of the fabled Franklinia alatamaha tree growing in their back acres, and the trees were in bloom. Naturally, I went there to check them out.

Following the directions, I parked at the back in the designated spot, walked across the road, past some large trees to a clearing where six trees of different sizes were growing, all of them full of flowers!


Franklinia alatamaha
Franklinia alatamaha tree



All of the trees were surrounded by deer fencing; I looked over the blossoms in all of the trees, photographed a number of them, and selected one lovely perfect flower for sketching that was about eye level to me. I'd have to draw while standing--fortunately my 8" x 10" sketchpad has a good rigid backing, which I propped up against the deer fence. Thus happily occupied the afternoon waned. As I was finishing, the sun started to come out and the temperature rose immediately.

 

Franklinia alatamaha tree

I put away my gear and walked around to take more photos, then wandered farther afield to see what else was growing near by. I saw three different types of Stewartias, another member of the tea family which encompasses the Franklinia as well as Camellias. I was familiar with this genus from a large specimen of Stewartia pseudocamellia at McCrillis Gardens when I was studying botanical art at Brookside Gardens. The flowers resemble the Franklinia's but they're smaller, and more profuse, making a lovely display in early summer. As it ages, the bark of the tree trunk peels in layers.

 

Stewartia serrata 'Hikosan Himeshara'

Stewartia koreana


The Arboretum had a Stewartia serrata 'Hikosan Himeshara' , and a Stewartia koreana, both past bloom, but with lots of seed pods, some of which I collected. The third species, Stewartia monadelpha, also known as Tall Stewartia, I've never seen before--it too was past bloom and with seed pods. I'll have to come back to this spot next year in late spring in order to see these trees in bloom--I imagine they are all gorgeous!

 

Franklinia watercolor - Stage 1

In the meantime, I'm working on a watercolor of the Franklinia based on my sketch and photographs. It'll take a bit more time to finish. I hope to be able to return soon to take photos of the tree as the leaves start to turn red, and still with flowers. Maybe I can collect some of the seeds then.