Funny to think there was a time when an agave blooming in Denver was front page news in the papers! Today I noticed a SIXTH agave sending up a stalk here at the Gardens: yes, I said sixth! I remember when the very first one bloomed here a few decades ago. We were all so excited and it seemed so miraculous. Now I notice agaves here and there around town in people's gardens, and I've seen several sending up stalks out and about as well. Of course, with the Allan Houser exhibit there are whole new layers of meaning in agaves blooming: the Apache tribe in particular had such a strong predilection for harvesting agaves for food that one of their tribes (the Mescalero Apache) got their very name from the mescal, the common Spanish name of Agave</em> in much of its range due to their dependence on agaves for food. Most of us only sample agave through the distilled Tequila, which is only derived from a tender, Mexican species. Watching the terrible symmetry of the foliage is ample fare for many of us. But when the crown swells in April or May, and the stalk begins to shoot up like a gigantic asparagus, you would have to be a mugwump or an all out bona fide muggle not to be enchanted with the spectacle. This time of year, now that the temperature is rising, you can practically watch the stems grow. Five or six inches a day is not impossible. I shall give you a hint: there are three agaves budded up to bloom in one garden alone (in the southwest corner of the Gardens) including both Agave parryi</em> and A. neomexicana</em>. Next door, Agave havardiana</em> is sending up not one, but two stalks from a single colony. This is the first time it has deigned to bloom for us at the Gardens, although I did see a fine specimen bloom close to my home a few years ago. I will not tell you where the last one is: that is my secret. One hint....it is by far the loftiest of all agaves at the Gardens! One thing you can be sure of: a lot of us will be monitoring these awesome plants all summer long. What a delightful way that nature has of reminding us that sculpture was not invented by the ancient Greeks or Egyptians: nature has been sculpting from time immemorial. Agaves are some of her supreme expressions, don't you agree?</p>
</p> There's so much to see west of York Street at Denver Botanic Gardens visitors can almost be forgiven for missing out on the Children's Garden. WRONG! It's not just for kids! Many of our best specimens of native plants are found there. Because of the fresh soil and brisk breezes, many plants thrive here that are difficult to grow in the rest of the Gardens.. There are lots of AVALANCHE Sun Daisy (Osteospermum</em> above) around the Gardens, but on the Alpine Garden section of the Children's garden it is already in full glorious bloom (elsewhere just budded)...This is this year's star entry in Plant Select: I am quite sure you've never seen this gem before! Bring sunglasses, however: the glare is awesome! I am astonished how well such a wide variety of plants have performed on this Green Roof: the horticulturalists who did the work are truly to be commended!</p> </dt> Phlox grayi</em> (vivid pink individual)</dd> There are some wonderful specimens of this phlox elsewhere at the gardens, but the colonies and masses of this rare phlox from Northern Arizona are simply breathtaking right now all over the Children's garden. It is fascinating to see how much each plant varies in flower color: this clone is especially a brilliant pink. This has to be one of our finest native plants for gardens. I can't think of another Public Garden in the world you'd be apt to see this plant, and certainly none with so many thriving specimens!</dd> </dl> </dt> Penstemon eatonii</em></dd> If I had not taken this picture myself, I'd think it had been shot at Moab or the Colorado National Monument where I have seen this penstemon looking just like this about this time of year. But no! It's in the Canyonlands section of our very own Children's Garden.</dd> </dl> </dt> Oxytropis besseyi v. besseyi </em></dd> </dl> I was really astonished to see many clumps of this rare native milkvetch blooming all over the North part of this garden. Most forms of O. besseyi</em> are a screaming magenta in color. Yellow is a rather rare color for the Astragalus</em> group, and a soft primrose yellow like this one is very unusual. Now to go find this in nature...</p> The Childen's garden is brimming with color and wonderful vistas and vignettes. I make a point of visiting once a week: judging by all the giggling kids by the water feature, I'm not the only delighted visitor: make sure you come by soon and check it out. You won't regret it!</p>
</p> Did you know that more than 1350 species in the US are protected under the Endangered Species Act? A whopping 792 (57%) of them are plants. Today is the sixth annual Endangered Species Day, a day to celebrate our endangered species. There are 29 species in Colorado listed as Threatened or Endangered under the Endangered Species Act. Thirteen of them are plants and we at Denver Botanic Gardens are working to conserve each of them.</p> Through our partnerships with the Center for Plant Conservation and the US Fish and Wildlife Service, we are working to collect seed of all of our listed species. Once seed are collected some is germinated for grow-out at the Gardens while the majority is sent to the National Center for Genetic Resources Preservation for long-term storage. In addition to conserving our rarest plants through seed collection, we are partnering with the Bureau of Land Management to track life-history data for the Colorado hookless cactus (Sclerocactus glaucus</em>). Our monitoring work which began in 2007 tracks more than 700 individual cacti across the species’ range from Delta to DeBeque, Colorado. We are studying how long this species lives and how often new seedlings are found. We are also using molecular genetic tools to determine if this threatened species is crossing with a more common cactus.</p> </p> </p> The skiff milkvetch (Astragalus microcymbus</em>) was listed as a candidate species for protection under the Endangered Species Act in 2010 largely due to data we collected during the 16 years we have been studying the species. The small member of the pea family is found in a single drainage outside of Gunnison, Colorado. Our first 9 years of data documented decreases in population size across our monitoring plots. We suspect the decrease was largely due to low seed production which might be made worse by rabbits eating the plants before they produce seeds. In recent years, populations are rebounding slightly. We are working with the Bureau of Land Management and the US Fish and Wildlife Service to learn as much as we can about this rare species and its life-history so we can help keep it off the Endangered Species list. Here at the Gardens we are celebrating Endangered Species Day by educating the more than 400 school kids who are visiting today about Colorado’s rarest plants and how to help conserve them. To learn more about Endangered Species Day and ways you can help conserve our nation’s rarest species visit: the Endangered Species Coalition or the US Fish & Wildlife Service.</p>
In the Dakotas they call them "prairie crocus'. Elsewhere you usually hear them called pasqueflowers, although I think the ones this year at the Gardens will mostly be done blooming by Easter...these near relations to Anemone</em> are irresistible to anyone who loves puppies, kittens and things that are cuddly, adorable and soft. One or another kind of pasqueflower is found on plains, tundra and mountain meadows across the northern hemisphere: dozens of names can be found in floras, and hundreds of variants in every color from yellow and vermilion through the spectrum of lavenders, purples and near blues and of course crystalline whites. You can't beat the furry lavender of our native Pulsatilla patens</em>, which ranges across much of the central and northern United States and Canada. Alas, our native gem is hard to grow. But this nearly twin plant from eastern Europe has graced my garden for nearly ten years. Pulsatilla halleri</strong></em> also comes in a violet purple shade: although that is a dazzling color, I go for this lavender any time! I've heard it said that Horticulture is the slowest of the performing arts, and watching this furry diva emerge in late winter, gradually come into bloom and finally sport its shimmering head of seeds (you shall have to take that on faith: I don't have pix of that yet!)...well that's part of the magic of gardening, don't you agree? Denver Botanic Gardens has exemplified transformation in recent years. what plant better embodies the magic of change more elegantly than pasqueflower? We can enjoy this spectacle from March in the lower foothills all the way to July when I have found vast fields of pasqueflowers in full bloom on Medicine Bow Pass in Wyoming, or on the high tundra of the Collegiate Peaks in central Colorado. I have more pictures of true crocuses and pasqueflowers and maybe snowdrops than any kind of plant: each spring comes and I have to get just a few more pictures, maybe these will be the ones that capture that incredible furry beauty on the petals, on the leaves. There are societies for roses, carnivorous plants, alpines: heck, even gladiolus and daffodils have their society. Let's declare a society of Pasqueflower devotees, and I'll sign up right away!</p>
Hello Friends! Brrrrrrrr! It sure was chilly this morning when I woke up. The Children’s Garden looked much different today than it did when I woke up yesterday morning. The ground was covered with just a hint of snow and the trees and daffodils were covered in just enough ice to make them sparkle.</p> </p> I have been a very busy Marmot these last few weeks! I’ve made two new friends named Mr. and Mrs. Mallard. I often run into the Mallards early in the morning and late in the afternoon when they stop by Pipsqueak Pond for a snack. Watching them dunk there heads under water to search for food is always so interesting to watch. I didn’t see my friends this morning, but I did see the foot prints in the snow they left behind. I hope I will run into them this afternoon.</p> </p> I have been busy overseeing construction of the Home Harvest Garden. Our gardeners and amazing group of volunteers have been working hard building new raised beds for the garden. I’ve also been trying to decide which vegetables we should plant in the garden once construction is finished. Do you grow any vegetables at home? What is your favorite type of vegetable to grow? The warm sunshine is quickly melting away any sign of yesterday’s spring snow. I’m off to enjoy this nice sunny day. Hope to see you soon! Your Friend, Digger</p>
</p> So begins a poem by the great 20th Century French Poet Guillaume Apollinaire (see below). I hasten to point out that the plants depicted (blooming right now at Denver Botanic Gardens) are technically not heathers (Calluna vul</em>garis--a single species from Northern Europe) but heath (Erica</em>--an astronomically larger group with hundreds of species mostly in South Africa). They're all very closely related, so let's not get too technical with common names, now. The pictured species from central and eastern Europe (Erica carnea</em>) is notable for many reasons: it is by far the hardiest of heathers, the one that loves limy soils and thrives in Colorado with only a modicum of supplemental irrigation: and best of all it blooms much of the late winter and spring. </p> </p> Erica carnea 'Vivelli' in Rock Alpine Garden</p> I've been disappointed in a few plants this spring: some of the bulbs have passed too quickly, and with our polar cold (-22F at my house) there has been winter damage, albeit far less than I feared. But the winter heaths are simply spectacular. I am distressed that plants that thrive so manifestly, that we have shown off so superbly at Denver Botanic Gardens for so many decades have literally languished in undeserved and pitiful obscurity, while Box Stores and even our noble local garden centers stock so many plants (how shall I put it tactfully?) of lesser merit. Considerably</strong> lesser</em> merit....ahem!</p> Fear not! You can buy these from many sources mail order! A great way to get plants, by the way (and with Paypal and the new convenient computer programs, you can be bankrupt in no time at all!). If you didn't get it, I linked the very best source subliminally at the start of this paragraph...</p> Now let's get back to literature: clear your throat, lean back and proclaim (in your very best French):</p> L’adieu </strong> </p> J'ai cueilli ce brin de bruyère L'automne est morte souviens-t'en Nous ne nous verrons plus sur terre Odeur du temps Brin de bruyère Et souviens-toi que je t'attends</p> Farewell</strong></p> I have plucked this sprig of heather / Remember herein that autumn has died / We shall never again see one another / Whiff of that time--a sprig of heather / And I still wait for you--remember! </p> Guillaume Apollinaire</p> </p>
</dt> </dl> </dt> </dl> </p> Closeup of star magnolia blossoms (Magnolia stellata)</dd> </dl> Aside from Townsendias and spring beauty (Claytonia</em>) the bulk of our native wildflowers are smart enough to wait until May, June or even later summer to bloom. Natives know that frost in Colorado can happen late in spring and early in autumn. But plants from Maritime climates have evolved where spring comes and stays. Such is the case with the fabulous spring flowerin g magnolias: these largely come from China and Japan where winter can be harsh, but spring usually arrives for good. Most years we are lucky to have a week of magnolia flowers before a hard frost turns the white or pink petals into brownish orange sludge...two springs ago, and last spring as well we had light frosts for weeks through March and April before summer made a definite arrival. Three springs of magnolia bloom is almost unheard of! Will we keep dodging the frost bullet?</p> </dt> Magnollia stellata</em></dd> There are two stunning magnolias on the southwest corner of Denver Botanic Gardens' Waring house. They have been coming into bloom for several weeks, and the white star magnolia is in peak bloom as I type this. I have used these as "Poster Girls" of how NOT</em></strong> to plant magnolias: do NOT</em></strong> put them on the hot south side of your house (except, that is, for the evergreen sorts--these are summer bloomers that need extra heat to thrive here). Spring blooming magnolias are understory trees that do best on the NORTH</em></strong> Side of your house where their flowering is often delayed several weeks and they are less apt to freeze. It is also easier to keep their roots cool and moist, since these are emphatically not xeriscape trees...</dd> </dl> </dl> That said, our star and saucer magnolias bloomed through last year and the year before. And perhaps this year they shall dance their way past yet another volley of frosty bullets to delight and entrance us with their enormous, waxy, fragrant chalices! Get ye hence! And get more of these treasures to brighten up our springs, O Front Rangers! Our springs merit a lot more bulbs and gorgeous trees like this to celebrate the new growing season!</p> </p>
Nearly ten years ago the seeds for a remarkable garden were planted when Wellington and Wilma Webb visited Versailles. They wanted a dramatic garden near the entrance of the city instead of the industrial wasteland of the Platte Valley. Centennial Park [located at the northeast side of Elitch Gardens, just off 15th and Little Raven] was created as a fulfillment of the Webb's dream, and I was one of the team from Denver Botanic Gardens who helped design and create this garden. The clock fast forwards a decade: Denver Botanic Gardens is no longer involved with the maintenance or planning here. But I believe Centennial has more than achieved its dream. There are incredible hedges of native shrubs that only need to be trimmed once a year since they are kept dry and do not flush repeatedly as privet would do. There are masses of perennials in season, and some novel plantings unlike anything else in the City. I am especially amazed to see how beautiful the buffalo grass (Buchloe dactyloides</em>) has performed. It is trim and neat year 'round, and never more beautiful than right now filled with these robust spring crocuses. There are autumn crocuses in it as well in September and October. I can't tell you how good these looked! Imagine in a few years when they seed around!</p> </p> Every collaboration I have had with Denver Parks and Recreation over the years has impressed me with the dedication, diligence and intelligence this department brings to the table (and to the landscape). I do not think we as Denver area citizens sufficiently appreciate the work of our public servants--especially parks workers. I want to congratulate Denver Parks and Recreation who have done a terrific job in keeping it trim and looking good despite the enormous budget challenges they face, and the problematical nature of this garden and its setting. I hope this will not be a secret garden for long!</p>
</p> Catalogs call them "minor bulbs"--those little gems that brighten up our gardens in late winter. I am frankly astounded that you see so few of these in Denver gardens (or anywhere in the Rocky Mountain region). For any number of geobotanical reasons, there are only a very small number of early spring ephemerals in our native flora. But the Mediterranean region and Central Asia teem with extraordinary flowers that bloom as snows melt. These seem to grow here with real gusto. Crocuses, snowdrops, Cyclamen coum</em> and reticulate irises are all winter's jewels or else spring's earliest heralds. And there are many more as well, but the tiny grape hyacinth, Muscari azureum</em>, holds a special place in my affections. </p> Mention grape hyacinth, and many gardeners groan: the commonly grown Muscari armeniacum</em> or M. neglectum</em> thrive here all right: they can be downright pesky in the garden, producing vast sheaths of messy foliage in fall that singes by spring and doesn't quite justify their gloomy purple blue clusters that come a little too late (when everything else is blooming too).</p> There are a number of equally prolific grape hyacinths with more winning traits, and the first of these is this tiny blue marvel that usually opens its first blossoms at ground level in February. March, however, is its time of glory: right now the dry borders in my garden have wide swaths of azure blue, like the little pool of color you can see below.</p> </dt> Muscari azureum</dd> </dl> It is prolific, but please don't summon the invasive police! In this case, one can never seem to have enough of this good thing. It sprinkles my borders, my rock garden, it seems to pop up somewhere new every year. Of course, I have been known to gather its seeds in May and scatter them around rather enthusiastically. This little gem is above ground only a few weeks, and at the time of year our gardens are their most austere and need that little extra kick. And tiny though it is, its piercing blue is welcome. I first came to know this plant in the garden of the late T. Paul Maslin, an eminent biologist who taught at the University of Colorado in Boulder. Paul passed away in 1984. He was my near neighbor growing up with the most beautiful garden in Boulder (maybe in the state). He became my mentor and best friend. He loved this bulb (then known as Hyacinthus azureus</em>) which grew everywhere in his garden too. In fact, my plants trace their origins to Paul. In the later 20th century, Botanists called this bulb Hyacinthella azurea</em>, so the Latin specific epithet has progressed from masculine to feminine and is now neuter! No matter what it's name or sex may be, this is a bulb I wouldn't want to live without. Every day in March I go out and admire it here and there, and think of the vast swaths of Anatolia that it graces in nature (where, no doubt, some of my ancestors a millenium ago admired it too), and of my wonderful friend, Paul. I look forward to the day it carpets much of my half acre with azure scatterugs of sparkling blue. One could have much worse predilections, I'm sure you would agree!</p>
Hello Friends! What a wonderful winter I had snuggled up in the Mordecai Children’s Garden waiting for the first signs of spring. I knew it was time to come out of hibernation when I felt the warm sunshine and saw little flowers popping up by Pipsqueak Pond! I am excited that my friends will be visiting the Children’s Garden again this weekend. When you stop by the Children’s Garden make sure to keep an eye out for the little signs that spring is right around the corner. The Children’s Garden is amazing this time of year. Every day I discover a new bud ready to bloom, birds getting ready to make nests, and new sprouting green leaves. The Children's Garden is open today for members only, and tomorrow to everyone.</strong> Stop by this weekend and enjoy your favorite Children’s Garden activities. Build homes for my mountain friends on top of Marmot Mountain, dig for gold in the Mist-ery Forest, and race pinecones down Springmelt Stream. You will even discover new fun in the Children’s Garden! Stop by the Morrison Discovery Greenhouse and discover some of my favorite plants with your five senses. Don’t forget to check out the future home of the Home Harvest Garden where you will have the opportunity to help tend to my vegetable garden and even sample some of my favorite garden treats! Hope to see you soon! Your Friend, Digger</p>
Patzcuaro is known for its mask making artistry. Masks are used in various festivities such as the Night of the Dead, Festivity of the Virgin of La Salud and Dance of the Little Old Men. Before we leave for Uruapan, we start the day with a visit to a local mask maker, Filipe Horta. Considered to be one of the eminent mask makers in Mexico, Filipe Horta has won numerous prizes and is commissioned by various villages to make their festive masks. To view his work, visit his website. After spending some time with Filipe, we drive to Uruapan, which is approximately a 2-hour drive. Uruapan is known as the avocado capital of the world. Throughout the drive we see numerous avocado plantations on the way. In town we are welcomed by a representative of the Ministry of Tourism who has arranged a special tour of a local avocado farm. A local avocado expert gives us a talk about the local avocado industry and farming practices. Lunch has been arranged at the farm and the food prepared by local Purepechas women. We are treated to fresh guacamole, hot blue corn tortillas made right in front of us, beans, and a squash dessert in addition to other treats. As we leave for Morelia to fly back to Denver, we are all grateful for this rich experience in culture and natural heritage.</p>
Patzcuaro was an important ceremonial center of the indigenous Purepechas people during the pre-Hispanic period. We stay in the heart of this beautiful town close to the two main plaza squares. In the morning we take a boat from the pier to Janitzio Island. The Patzcuaro Lake in known for its white fish and we see fishermen using their traditional butterfly nets for fishing. The island of Janitzio consists of terraced housing packed along the hillside and has a population of about 3,000 people. At the top of the hill is the statue of José Maria Morelos, a leader of Mexican independence. Within the statue are paintings by Ramon Alba de la Canal and other great Mexican muralists that recreate the life of Morelos. Next stop is a copper artisan’s workshop in the town of Santa Clara del Corbe. The copper workmanship is amazing and on either sides of the street are numerous stores selling copper pots, pans, jewelry and other art work.</p>
