Aloe polyphylla</em> at Semonkong Lodge</p> Few plants better epitomize the quandaries of plant conservation than this iconic aloe, endemic to the heights of south-central Lesotho, South Africa. Once relatively abundant (Alan Beverly estimated at least 10,000 a half century ago), this magnificent national flower of Lesotho has become extremely rare in nature...although increasingly abundant in gardens.</p> Aloe polyphylla at Malealea, southern Lesotho</p> There is reputedly a nursery selling plants in Lesotho grown from seed, but as I travelled around the country, I only saw massive plants like these that I suspect where harvested in the wild. Wild collection is certainly one reason that so few of these are still found growing wild--that and the fact that they make a fascinating sound when giant rocks are tossed into them (the countryside is filled with bored, young pastoralists who are very efficient at lots of things--killing anything that moves, and killing aloes).</p> Aloe at a typical roundeval in Lesotho</p> Again and again as we drove through villages I'd notice spiral aloes growing at this or that roundeval: happy and quite enormous. I didn't notice any little ones--perhaps they were there?</p> Of course, collecting even seed of this is strictly prohibited, the sale of large specimens especially so (and always has been). Nevertheless, Aloe polyphylla</em> has been firmly established in cultivation over the last half century. In fact, some nurseries in California have enormous stock beds that are beginning to produce vast quantities of seed. I have seen plants marketed quite cheaply at Denver area garden centers the last few years--some by Monrovia, one of the largest growers in the country.</p> Colorado columbines are sold by the thousand (if not million) each year in our area--and never cease to retain their glamour and beauty as a consequence. Is the Spiral Aloe diminished if it becomes more widely available commercially? I don't think so. The solution to pollution is dilution--a well known adage. I'd like to coin a new one: the Salvation from Depradation is Propagation!</p> If this plant had not slipped into cultivation decades ago, I believe it would truly be in peril of disappearance. I believe one day those cultivated plants may provide a gene pool that could re-stock the wild populations that have succumbed to the destruction that often comes to plants in poor countries that have little in the way of environmental education or enforcement. </p>
Alan Tower</p> DENVER Botanic Gardens implies we're a local institution, which is true. But what greater proof of the regional--nay!--national and international reach that we have than when nurserymen from 1,000 miles away maintain a close relationship with us and our collections. I photographed Alan a few years ago when he hosted me on a lecture tour to Spokane</a>. I spent several days exploring his extremely diverse and beautiful nursery and gardens (Tower Perennials and Design</a>), and an unforgettable day on Steptoe Butte where I took this picture, looking at wildflowers (described in the link in the previous sentence). But the relationship between Alan and Denver Botanic Gardens goes back all the way to the 1990s!</p> Cupressus arizonica</em> 'Raywood weeping'</p> One day I got a call from Alan saying he was driving into town and wanted to donate two unique specimens of Cupressus arizonica</em> 'Raywood weeping' to our collections. I was surprised to see the size and splendor of the plants, and they were subsequently planted, one in Dryland Mesa (picture above) and another in the Dwarf Conifer Collection. Both have since almost doubled in size and are a pride and joy of our collections. As I walk around the Gardens every day or so, I inevitably walk by one or both of these, and when I do, I think of Alan and his surprise appearance years ago.</p> Here's a picture of the other specimen I took today:</p> Cupressus arizonica</em> 'Raywood weeping'</p> There are few conifers more dramatic or entertaining. Kids see them and say they look like Dr. Seuss characters. They are rare enough I've never seen them in another public garden (but then perhaps I haven't looked carefully enough?).</p> Last week I got a call from Alan: "Is Chihuly</em> still going on?" He had planned a trip to Canyon Country and realized he might swing by and visit en route--just a few hundred mile diversion is all. He was joined by a friend, Miles Stookey, who had never visited the Gardens before. They drove straight through after Thanksgiving dinner, arriving in the morning last Friday--and they proceeded to spend the day taking hundreds of photographs throughout the Gardens. They were elated with the sculptures, the gardens--and they did not come empty handed. This time, Alan brought Picea abies</em> 'Gold Drift', a deep golden form of the European spruce which he says will make 'Raywood weeping' pale by contrast! Below you see his gift--which has not yet been planted (but soon will be I think).</p> Picea abies</em> 'Gold Drift'</p> People often ask me, where do plants at Denver Botanic Gardens come from? A large proportion are of course from nurseries, garden centers and greenhouses in and around Denver. Many of our finest treasures come from Index Seminum--the centuries old exchange between botanic gardens. Many of our most precious plants are collected by staff and associates on mountains and plains all over the world. But some of our choicest specimens are gifts like this, from talented nurserymen and collectors all over the United States who care about Denver Botanic Gardens, and want to see our collections prosper.</p> Alan is just one such plantsman, who has traveled thousands of miles over the decades to enjoy our Gardens, and to leave his mark upon them. If it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a World of plantsmen to make a botanic garden.</p>
Denver Botanic Gardens was once again the host of the International Waterlily and Water Gardening Society’s New Waterlily Competition this year. This contest draws entries of new waterlily hybrids from skilled hybridizers around the world. This year there were 21 entries in three categories - hardy waterlilies, intersubgeneric (hardy x tropical crosses) and tropical waterlilies. The entries were sent to the gardens in the spring and were grown in the Four Towers Pool this summer. Each entry received the same size growing container, soil, fertilizer and sun exposure. Senior Horticulturist Tamara Kilbane and her team of volunteers maintained the plants throughout the growing season. Photos were taken to show the size, growth habit and blooms of each entry. A panel of 16 judges from around the globe then used these photos to score each entry. The official winners are as follows: '</p> 'Milky Way'</strong> - Best New Waterlily Overall and First Place Tropical Waterlily - Hybridized by Buafah Garden, Thailand</p> 'Morada Bay'</strong> - Second Place Tropical Waterlily - Hybridized by Florida Aquatic Nurseries, USA</p> </p> 'Siam Purple 2'</strong> - Second Best New waterlily and First Place Intersubgeneric Waterlily - Hybridized by Pairat Songpanich, Thailand</p> 'Sangria'</strong> - Second Place Intersubgeneric Waterlily - Florida Aquatic Nurseries, USA</p> </p> 'Lemon Meringue'</strong> - First Place Hardy Waterlily (and Third Place Overall) - Hybridized by Tony Moore, USA</p> 'Siam Beauty'</strong> - Second Place Hardy Waterlily - Hybridized by Pairat Songpanich, Thailand</p> In addition to the official judging, visitors to the gardens were given the opportunity to choose their own favorite waterlilies in each category. Over 700 people voted throughout the summer months, and the winners of the “People’s Choice Awards” are listed below.</p> </p> Hardy, First Place - 'Siam Beauty'</strong>, hybridized by Pairat Songpanich (Thailand); Second Place - 'White Hot'</strong>, hybridized by Mike Giles (USA)</p> </p> Intersubgeneric, First Place (tied) - Siam Purple 2</strong>, hybridized by Pairat Songpanich (Thailand) First Place (tied) - 'Sangria',</strong> hybridized by Florida Aquatic Nurseries (USA) Second Place - Unnamed</strong>, hybridized by Florida Aquatic Nurseries (USA)</p> Tropical, First Place - 'Good Morning'</strong>, hybridized by Ittipol Takul (Thailand) Second Place - 'Purple Joy'</strong>, hybridized by Buafah Garden (Thailand)</p>
Joan Franson and Cistus laurifolius</em></p> Joan Franson, long time volunteer and champion of Denver Botanic Gardens, passed away on Thursday, October 17. Her obituary in the Denver Post</a> provides more information on Joan. There will be a Memorial Service for Joan at Denver Botanic Gardens this Tuesday morning in John Mitchell Hall at 10 a.m., October 28.</p> Those of us privileged to work at the Gardens tell ourselves it's all about the plants. And of course, plants are infinitely variable and beguiling. But every few days someone strolls by and you find yourself intrigued, or in the case of Joan, you are simply bowled over by their energy and charisma.</p> I actually first met her forty years ago before I even worked here, when she gave a talk to the Rock Garden club on wildflowers. I was dazzled by her wonderful photography, but it was her crisp, Midwestern voice, with lilting cadences and rhetorical flourishes, that mesmerized me! She ended her slides by billowing out fresh bedsheets from J.C. Penney with gorgeous painted images of wildflowers--yellow ladyslippers, blanket daisies--and she urged us to hustle down and buy some. The Federated Garden clubs (another of her passions) had arranged to have a portion of sales from each set of sheets sold go to a special fund for wildflower preservation. Who could resist? I scuttled down there the very next day and still have these sheets tucked deep in my linen closet--a tad threadbare since they were my favorites for a few too many years. But I can't bring myself to get rid of them!</p> The plant in front of Joan above is a hardy rock rose, or Cistus--usually quite tender Mediterrean shrubs--thriving in Joan's garden. She'd purchased this at our plant sale decades ago, and for many years hers had to be the champion specimen. She had many suchlike gems--especially hardy shrub roses, which she preferred and ultimately she was instrumental in having these become the dominant roses sold in our region today.</p> Rosa</em> 'William Baffin'</p> The enormous mounds of 'William Baffin' in the Schlessman Plaza portion of our Romantic Gardens are excellent examples that Joan adored. I can never walk by these without hearing her crisp, Indiana accent that carried across the garden, "This rose is magnificent, but I warn you it gets very big. In fact, it requires its very own Zip Code." Joan was a hoot!</p> When she marched into your life (yes, Joan marched! she did not shuffle nor tread quietly), you could be sure you'd be entertained and soon you'd be chuckling. And there was usually a purpose for the visit. She dedicated untold hours in many capacities on behalf of Denver Botanic Gardens--perhaps her very favorite cause of all. I remember overhearing her once with friends of hers saying, "There are other bigger gardens, but our garden here is a jewel with many facets, and it positively gleams."</p> Joan had a special place in my affection (likely reciprocated). She was President of the Associates of DBG at the time I was hired. (The Associates managed volunteer affairs and the gift shop back then). The group also provided the funds that paid my salary, and she loved to boast that she was my first "boss": and a darn good one she was too!..</p> I must end my tribute to Joan with another rose, Rosa</em> 'Golden Wings', one that was one of her favorites. This may explain why it seems to be growing all over Denver Botanic Gardens. The picture doesn't show how big the flowers really are, nor how profusely they bloom for months and months on end. The refulgent color, its fragrance and the colorful hips make this a wonderful presence in the garden. I have one in my own garden, and I know whenever I shall see it, I will gratefully recall Joan's compelling presence, her words that flew on golden wings, and envision her wandering through bowers of roses and rare flowers for all eternity.</p> </p>
On August 5, 2014, Denver Botanic Gardens conducted its second trial evaluation day for the York Street Trial Garden. Located right outside our main entrance gate, visitors can get a look at various plant entries participating in the trials.</p> The purpose of Denver Botanic Gardens’ York Street Trial Garden is to evaluate the performance of plants submitted by seed and plug companies. From the data collected, we hope to assist in the companies’ assessment of submitted entries in their vigor in our Rocky Mountain environment and popularity in the trial. Plants are evaluated on a scale of one to ten on their uniformity, vigor, floral characteristic, and foliage. Denver Botanic Garden horticulture staff members, DBG garden volunteers, Denver Garden Club Members, The Denver Botanic Gardens’ Guild, local nurserymen, local and national growers, and other local Green Industry and horticulture professionals were invited to evaluate the plants.</p> Thirty-five different plants were part of the trial garden representing six different seed and plug companies from the United States and France. Before planting, the trial bed area was prepared by removing weeds and debris. Organic compost was added to amend the soil. Twenty plants were planted for each annual and perennial entry. Only five of each shrub and vine entry was planted. Of the 20 plants per entry, five plants were chosen randomly, and these five were measured and photographed on a biweekly basis.</p> Plant entries were watered twice a week by an automated irrigation system with popup heads. Entries were also hand-watered to supplement the irrigation watering schedule on an as needed basis when low precipitation rates and higher temperatures were experienced. A water-soluble fertilizer was used to feed the plants. Beds were hand weeded; no herbicides were used.</p> On evaluation day a total of 58 ballots were collected.</p> Results</strong></p> </p> Best of Show: Hibiscus</em> ‘Mahogany Splendor,’ PAS Entry</p> </p> First Runner Up: Plectranthus</em> ‘UF06419’ Trusty Rusty, Ball FloraPlant Entry</p> </p> Second Runner Up: Helianthus annuus</em> ‘Suntastic Yellow With Black Center,’ HM Clause Entry</p> Congratulations to the winners, and thank you to the participating companies who submitted plant entries. We hope to expand the number of participating companies in the 2015 York Street Trial Garden.</p>
Bouteloua gracilis</em> 'Blonde Ambition' on left</p> I'm talking about the OTHER kind of grass, incidentally. The orange Agastache on the upper right of this picture is also a Plant Select</a> choice: Agastache aurantiaca</em>--a spectacular species one does not see nearly enough. Both of these, and many more Plant Select choices are growing and blooming magnificently right now (took this pic yesterday!) at Denver Botanic Gardens at Chatfield--in the fabulous series of gardens wrapped around the Visitor Center and historic schoolhouse, designed by Lauren Springer Ogden and her husband Scott--and maintained superbly by Emilee Vanderneut, lead horticulturist at Chatfield. I have been dazzled by this garden since early spring--and I think it's as beautiful now in early autumn as it was in its glory days of June, July and August! A truly multi-season garden. This is a wonderful place to see many grasses, but three of the best species promoted by Plant Select are here in droves--grown to perfection. 'Blonde Ambition' is a Blue Gramma on steroids (Bouteloua gracilis</em>) selected by David Salman. It is here in wonderful drifts.</p> Sporobolus wrightii</em> (Giant Sacaton)</p> I believe this is barely a year in the ground. Giant Sacaton is one of the most dramatic, but very useful Plant Select choices. It's like a more manageable Pampas Grass, only totally drought tolerant. I think it's more subtle and easier to live with! These will only get more spectacular in the key spot they're put in near the Farm Schoolhouse.</p> Muhlenbergia reverchonii</em> Undaunted ruby Muhly TM</p> Hitherto, the most spectacular planting of this unbelievable native grass was in the Rock Alpine Garden at York Street...but you can now see it in big drifts and in wonderful combinations in the breathtaking native gardens at Chatfield. How clever to see this grass growing in a garden designed by the Ogdens, when they were also the ones who first collected the seed of this strain, which I personally consider to be the most beautiful of ornamental grasses. If I could, I would make all the Kart Foerster Calamagrostis</em> transform instantaneously into this (with perhaps a few 'Blonde Ambition' tossed in). Seeing this garden in the majestic setting of Chatfield is an inspiration.Get on down there PRONTO! You too will be singing Hallelujah!</p>
Delosperma floribundum</em> 'Starburst'</p> There have been a veritable flood of hardy ice plants on the market in recent years, to the point where we have forgotten about some of the worthy old timers. This happens to be a twenty year anniversary for the time when I first saw and collected this delightful morsel on the windy steppe near Springfontein, just a bit west of the Drakensberg mountains of South Africa. It was growing in sparse grassland that was terribly reminiscent of Colorado. This picture is a particularly robust specimen in cultivation--but the wild ones were almost as flashy. This was one of the second wave of hardy ice plants that were championed by Plant Select,</a> and which certainly helped propel that worthy program.</p> The commonest query I get in recent years when the subject of hardy ice plants comes up is, "Aren't you afraid these will become weeds?" I can well imagine how a surgeon must feel when asked, "Aren't you afraid the patient will die on the table?" Of course, there is a remote possibility that any plant grown out of "context" (although humans have impacted practically every square centimeter of the earth so that I wonder if there really is a "natural," non-human context any more, truth be said...) and I invariably respond that Carpobrotus edulis</em> (the weedy Californian ice plant in question) is a massive plant comparitively speaking, and the ecology of California coasts and shortgrass prairie in Colorado are not one and the same. Well... guess what I found across the street from my very own house? My charming South African waif has flown the coop!</p> Delosperma floribundum</em> "escaped"!</p> As I pull out my car from the garage, and drive a few hundred feet down my street, on the unkempt prairie to the west of me I've been noticing some pinkish-purplish flashes. What could these possibly be? I finally stopped the car and wandered out and Lo! and behold, a dozen or so Delosperma floribundum</em> had naturalized in the weedy grassland. Horrors! What have I done?</p> Delosperma floribundum</em> ESCAPED!</p> Here you can see that all the plants are growing within a few feet of a weed barrier and a mulched bed that was where the original plants were planted a year or so ago (and which have summarily died). I am curious if the demise of the parent plant was due to the richer soil, or the pathogens engendered by the bark mulch. The lesson here, of course, is that Delosperma floribundum</em> is a grassland plant that prefers to grow in sparse shortgrass prairie, in a harsh pedocal soil to the fluffy garden pedalfer mulched with bark chips. This speaks volumes about our horticultural practices. We strive to grow plants from more humid climates that need more acid, humusy soils (pedalfers), while Plant Select and others are introducing plants from semi-arid regions that do much better in our alkaline, native mineral soils (pedocals). Crazy, no?</p> At Denver Botanic Gardens Waring House</p> Of course, a few self sown seedlings a few feet from the parent plant does not a rampageous weed make (although the exotic plant haters are loth to make any distinctions). Here you can see that Delosperma floribundum</em> has produced a random seedling on occasion in the past, such as this charming plantlet I photographed ten years or more ago growing in a low wall along the street in front of the Waring House. A number of the species ice plants have shown a willingness to seed--although rarely to the point of being a serious garden menace. I suspect a goodly number of our garden plants (including natives) can self sow enough to lead to a fastidious gardener avoiding them. I'm thinking of Red Valerian (Centranthus ruber</em>) , Knautia macedonica</em>, Perovskia, black-eyed-Susan (Rudbeckia triloba</em>) and a throng of other garden classics that have been proscribed from this or that local garden because of their profuse spreading. They are pesky plants in the wrong spot, perhaps, but hardly obnoxious weeds.</p> Obviously I shall be watching these Delosperma</em> over the years to see how much more (and if) they spread in the vant field. Meanwhile, I marvel that twenty years after first seeing these they've come home to roost, so to speak. If not home, across the way!</p>
Red birds in a tree</p> Native plants usually summon up images of wispy, finely textured grasses or suchlike--hardly a glamorous novelty like red birds in a tree (Scrophularia macrantha</em>). This gorgeous native perennial is prospering in gardens across America and beyond, but is restricted in nature to just a few montane sky islands in southern New Mexico.</p> It was on Cooke's Peak, exactly twenty years ago this month that Allan R. Taylor and I had obtained the permission of landowners to drive up Cooke's Peak in Luna County to visit the famous grove of Arizona Cypress that grows there (the northernmost, and most cold hardy of its kind as it turns out). I noticed a penstemon-like plant that didn't look quite right in a few spots among the cypresses and collected a single capsule that was beginning to ripen. All Scrophularia macrantha</em> in cultivation across the world are probably descended from the seeds in that capsule plucked twenty years ago (a testament if we needed any of the power of horticulture to propagate rare plants).</p> Redbirds on a median strip!</p> Here you can see an especially showy specimen of this species growing on a median strip in Lakewood, where Greg Foreman transformed the idea of what could or couldn't be grown in public places. I nearly had an accident when I saw this enormous clump--almost six feet tall and even more across! In nature, most seemed to be only a few feet tall, as they are in many gardens. They start to bloom in late spring, and many still have flowers in autumn. Friends have commented that this is the ultimate hummingbird magnet.</p> Ever since this was first promoted by High Country Gardens</a> (where David Salman gave it its wonderful moniker) and later picked as a Plant Select</a> choice, hummingbirds have flocked to this gorgeous native in gardens across the West. In fact, I suspect that this and the many other red flowered agastaches, salvias and penstemons promulgated by Plant Select may be responsible for the dramatic increase of hummingbirds in residence in our lowland cities over the past two decades. When I was a kid, you never saw hummers in town except in spring and fall--Plant Select has provided a banquet that keeps many of them in town--and provides a haven for them in dry years when nectar in the high country is hard to come by.</p> There are hundreds of Scrophularia</em>s in Eurasia as well as North America--most of them brown or green in color. This is unquestionably the showiest. Fortunately, it still resides in its own family (Scrophulariaceae) whereas penstemons, paintbrushes, veronicas and many more former "Scrophs" have been put in the Plantain family. I don't believe the hummingbirds care, however!</p>
Hydrangea quercifolia</em></p> This time of year I am amazed to see spectacular mounds of Hydrangea</em> 'Annabelle' glowing around the metro area. That is one cultivar that has certainly made its mark, although one doesn't see quite as many of them as you would in a more humid part of the country. I've noticed a few other sorts here and there--including small plants of the blue species (I think the jury is still out on these when it comes to our climate however.). There is one particularly striking hydrangea that has really proven its mettle for many, many years at Denver Botanic Gardens. The Oakleaf Hydrangea (according to the USDA)</a> is restricted to just the eight southeastern-most states, and yet the plants shown above have persisted in a dense stand of English Ivy alongside Denver Botanic Gardens' Waring House for nearly 30 years.</p> Blossoms of the typical wild form</p> The common wild form has long, graceful flowers that form a bit of a cone shape up to a foot long. Like others in the genus, the fresh flowers are white, but age a lovely soft green. If you cut them and hang them in a cool dry spot, they can make wonderful dry flowers for the winter too!</p> Hydrangea quercifolia</em> 'Snowflake'</p> Growing alongside the typical form is a more compact flowered and smaller leaved cultivar that looks a bit more like the Eurasian species. It seems to have fared just as well over the decades, and makes for a nice contrast. All forms of this wonderful shrub turn glorious orange and pink in the fall, reminiscent of their native cousin Jamesia americana,</em> that grows everywhere in our mountains (the only member of the family that does).</p> Both cultivars together</p> Here you can see both cultivars growing alongside one another more clearly. Surely, if they can grow well in this most challenging spot, nearly swamped with thirsty ivy, imagine what it might do in a well prepared spot in your garden with some compost and TLC? We have another handful of cultivars of this wonderful plant elsewhere on our grounds--but not enough! Come to think of it, I have a perfect spot in my garden for one... I better go out and get it before you beat me to the punch!</p>
Winecups in Watersmart Garden</p> Strolling around York Street gardens this time of year, you are apt to see a bright rose red plant that resembles a geranium in many gardens. It is apt to be winecups (Callirhoe involucrata</em>), a favorite of many staff and keen gardeners in the area. Not a geranium at all, this is in the Mallow family, and another common name is "Poppy Mallow", although it's no more a poppy than it is a geranium. It is a native plant found sparingly on the Great Plains east of Denver, more commonly in the Midwestern prairies. It is a stellar garden plant that will survive with no supplemental irrigation once established...I see it occasionally as I drive around Denver--but not nearly enough!</p> Winecups in Highlands</p> Here is an amazing planting I found yesterday in Highlands neighborhood--easily ten feet across, completely filling one of those triangular hellstrip corners that are so often weed infested and neglected-looking (making neighborhoods look like slums). Here is a great alternative--a rock, a bit of Russian sage (Perovskia</em>) and an exuberant mass of winecups blooming for months on end--all with no supplemental water!</p> A closer look</p> This mass is growing in part shade--and the mound is almost two feet tallk, as opposed to the first picture in this series taken at Denver Botanic Gardens, in full sun--well less than a foot tall. It does need some room to ramble--but almost everyone has a spot where this can flourish.</p> Callirhoe involucrata v. tenuissima</em> Not everyone likes the hot magenta of the typical form of this species: there is a lighter, more pink form of winecups that is found originally in Mexico--sometimes classed as var. tenuissima. It does have even more finely divided foliage and a neater habit and the flowers often have a striking white eye--here seen growing in the Rock Alpine Garden as it transitions to the Gates Garden in the west. I am especially fond of this form, first introduced to cultivation by Yucca-do a few decades ago.</p> Closeup of tenuissima</em>.</p> You can see if you compare this with the next that var. tenuissima</em> is quite different in effect. Come to think of it, I think I need both in my garden! And I wish we'd see it a lot more everywhere in town: one of the toughest and most beautiful native perennials!</p> Closeup of var. involucrata</em></p> Here is a closeup of the typical form for comparison with the one above--both are really stunning! For sale in better Garden Centers (forget the Box Stores when it comes to native plants)..can be planted any time--just make sure it doesn't dry out in the height of the summer until established!</p>
Claret cup cactus</p> Earlier this year, the Colorado Legislature passed a bill designating</a> Echinocereus triglochidiatus</em> the official state cactus of Colorado. I'm one of those people who'd find it hard to settle on a single taxon as a favorite--especially in such a splendiferous and exquisite group as our native cacti...although we fellows (or at least those of us who aren't color blind) are known to love bright red flowers. And few flowers are as outrageously, emphaticalloy red as the claret cups. Of course, "claret cup" covers a number of species--and Colorado has at least four distinct taxa grouped under at least two specific epithets. Most of these are blooming right now at lower elevations throughout the state.</p> Last weekend three staff from Denver Botanic Gardens took a whirlwind trip to the San Luis valley to explore a unique habitat that contains some strange, and possibly novel taxa. The next morning we began our trek homeward, but took a side trip through a corner of the San Luis hills, a little studied corner of the state comprised of volcanic rock. As soon as we got out of the vehicle we were greeted with the bright red beacons of these amazing flowers.</p> Claret cup in habitat</p> This form has traditionally been considered a race of Echinocereus triglochidiatus</em>, the classic "claret cup", although some botanists have classed it as its own species: E. gonacanthus</em> because of its robust stems and coarse spines. Certain plants are so photogenic that no matter how many pictures you already have, you invariably take more! Such is the case with claret cups--I must have dozens of perfectly good pictures already, but who could resist these prickly mounds studded with such Christmassy red flowers? And the tufted, silvery artemisias that grow with them make such a wonderful setting, as do the thickly lichened stones.</p> Echinocereus gonacanthus</p> On such an intensely sunny day, you have to use every trick in the book to try and capture these gorgeous plants in their awe-inspiring setting.</p> Hunger cactus on the ridge</p> Claret cups were not the only cactus here--we found several other species, including this spectacular prickly pear that grew on the most windswept sites. It was heavily budded. I imagine by mid-week this will be a blaze of color!</p> And even more Hunger cactus</p> This picture better shows how thickly these grew. They undoubtedly would key out to be Opuntia polyacantha</em>--the commonest prickly pear in the state--although I find it is extremely polymorphic in its habit. I loved these high alitude specimens with such long, white spines!</p> Yucca angustissima?</p> The third remarkable succulent that abounded in these hills was a miniature yucca in peak bloom. The foliage was only a foot or less in length, and the flower stalks were under two feet tall. This formed incredibly dense colonies that must be impenetrable which we observed on the steep east facing slope of the mountain--really quite different from Yucca glauca</em> around Denver.</p> Red tepaled yucca</p> Some of the yuccas had quite dark reddish coloration on the back of their tepals--a wonderful trait to possess in a garden plant. And I know at least one local nurseryman who is propagating this very strain.</p> Dwarf huccas with Cuchulain</p> Ooops! Sorry--that's not Cuchulain! But his avatar on our staff, Mike Bone, curator of steppe collections and master propagator!</p> Penstemon auriberbis</em></p> A few hours later, as we headed towards the Wet Mountain valley, we saw wonderful displays of wildflowers including this bright penstemon that is almost restricted to Southeastern Colorado prairies.</p> The Research Department, who organized this trip, have to take advantage of the summer months of growing season to do their work monitoring and studying our native flora. We were lucky to join them on this productive jaunt. This year promises to be an "Year of wonders", and I have borrowed two verses from Dryden's "Annus Mirabilis" that resonate:</p> "In this deep quiet, from what source unknown</p> Those seeds of fire their fatal birth disclose"</p>
Purple Mountain sun daisy at City and County Building</p> For over a decade the Master Gardeners of Denver and I maintained a low water garden</a> in front of the City and County Building in the Civic Center of Denver. It was with mixed feelings that I saw this replaced a few years ago with a much simpler, and rather classic garden design. A few days ago, as I drove past, I was startled to see a familiar flash of rosy purple pink: Surely that's not "Purple Mountain Sun Daisy?" I stopped and sure enough, Osteospermum barberiae</em> 'Purple Mountain'--one of the first hardy ice plants to be promoted in U.S. horticulture--was making quite a show. This was introduced to horticulture by Plant Select in 1998</a>--and has gained a steady following across the country over the interim.</p> Closeup of Purple Mountain</p> If you are not familiar with this plant, take a closer look. Photographs have a hard time capturing the distinctive and unique color--somewhere between hot pink and rich purple violet. The color is fantastic, and everyone loves it. There is a slightly darker ring around the disk flowers that make it even more alluring, and it does change hue every so slightly over the days that it opens. The reverse of the ray flowers is a silky bronze color--important because the flowers close at night or in dark weather. And while it blooms most enthusiastically from late April to mid June, there are scattered flowers on this lovely plant all summer long. Did I mention it has leathery, dark green evergreen leaves?</p> Purple Mountain bedded out</p> I take more than a little pride that the park's staff and designers have chosen such a prominent spot to showcase a plant that was debuted at Denver Botanic Gardens in 1991 (a few years later High Country Gardens began to sell this from germplasm they obtained from us). And now I see it popping up here and there around town.</p> Bank planting of Purple Mountain</p> I took this picture of a mass planting at a bank a few blocks from Denver Botanic Gardens a couple years ago--I noticed it's still going strong and blooming spectacularly this year again...</p> I've seen wonderful plantings in Pueblo and Vail--two utterly different environments: the plant obviously has a wide latitude of cultural tolerance. I have friends who have grown it in Massachusetts and California. Truth be said, it does seem sensitive to fungal or bacterial damage in some gardens. If you've had trouble with 'Purple Mountain', do try Osteospermum</em> AVALANCHE (see below).</p> Osteospermum AVALANCHE in the Mordecai Children's Garden</p> If you have never visited the Children's Garden at Denver Botanic Gardens (thinking it was only for kids), do not pass go, do not collect $200 Monopoly dollars--get yourself down there pronto! You will find amazing spreads not only of this gorgeous South African, but of all manner of wonderful montane and alpine plants that thrive in theCildren's Garden's green roof soil mix.</p> Denver Botanic Gardens can be proud indeed to have debuted such an important and uncanny group of perennials. The annual Osteospermums are well and good--but these hardy sorts make plush groundcovers, and bloom for months on end. Perhaps you should include a few in your garden? Who doesn't need a little Purple Mountain majesty above one's fruited plains!</p>
