Tag Archives: spring bulbs

Spring has sprung

“Spring has sprung

The grass has riz

I wonder where the boides is.“

I had to do a little search on that bit of doggerel from my childhood and it appears there are multiple versions – although this one is the most common – and it may or may not have originated from Ogden Nash. But here we are; spring has indeed sprung. A visiting friend last weekend got out of his car and stood, momentarily transfixed by all the bird song he could hear so that was a nice way to start a visit. We don’t need to wonder where the boides are because they are here.

With Daffodil Day officially scheduled for the last day of winter next Thursday, all I have to offer today is a host of golden narcissi, that your heart, like William Wordsworth’s, may fill with pleasure and dance with the daffodils.

Ralph is no respecter of the garden but he does add a certain ambience to the ‘Peeping Toms’ beneath the old apple tree.

I see the pink and white Onixotis triquetra has been reclassified by some as a wurmbea but I am not sure I can cope with that; it is seen here with cyclamineus hybrids and our native brown carex grasses. We favour the early flowering dwarf narcissi and those within the cyclamineus group are hands down the best performers in our climate.

While we have many narcissi in more cultivated areas of the garden, it is the clumps that have naturalised well on the grassy banks of the park that make our hearts sing the most. There is something magical about seeing bulbs naturalised in more casual settings. This one is ‘Twilight’, a most successful cultivar bred by Mark’s dad, Felix Jury.

We favour early flowering varieties because they are pretty much over and dying down before the narcissi fly is at its most active. And we opt for the dwarfer types because we like their more delicate, somewhat refined appearance and they generally hold their heads up better. The larger the flower, the heavier it is and they are much more vulnerable to being beaten down by early spring storms.

The snowdrops are all but over, the magnolias are not yet peaking. This week belongs to the golden narcissi.

Looking at finer detail

I picked a sampling of the smaller bulbs currently in flower yesterday morning, just before the rain returned

I was thinking about writing about rhododendrons this week. The big-leafed Rhododendron macabeanum that was *temporarily* heeled into the Iolanthe garden years ago, pending relocation to a more suitable spot, is looking absolutely splendid. It is clearly in its forever home where it is. And the firecracker R. spinuliferum never fails to delight me, but the rain has returned, interfering with photo opportunities. Apparently four consecutive fine days is all we can expect. Besides, for all the grandeur and stature of the fine rhododendrons, it was the simple sight of a few flowering bulbs down in the Wild North Garden that gladdened my heart more.

A simple sight on an ongoing project but one that is delighting us all. Red valottas, moraeas and a dainty little yellow bulb that I have forgotten the name of but belongs to that babiana, sparaxia, valotta group of bulbs.

Have I mentioned before how much we love gardening with bulbs? Of course I have. The Wild North Garden is now largely the project of our garden apprentice, Zach. I give him surplus bulbs from the more cultivated house gardens that we think may be able to bed in and compete in the more naturalistic environment and he plants them where he thinks they may thrive.

The Narcissus bulbocodium were planted planted just last week but have already opened up their flowers

Zach has also been tidying and replanting the area where the fallen giant gum tree laid waste when it fell in Cyclone Dovi last February. Because there are enough trees and shrubs in the area that will recover over time, we have taken advantage of the more open conditions to thread rivers of surplus bulbs through below.

This is another gum tree – you can tell by the characteristic twist in the trunk – but fortunately it survived Cyclone Dovi and its falling neighbour.

Wilder areas need tough, robust bulbs that are capable of surviving competition. That means bluebells, snowflakes (leucojum), snowdrops, some of the vigorous smaller narcissi and lachenalias, peacock iris (Moraea villosa), valottas and the like.  The more delicate, pernickety bulbs are given prime positions in well-tended areas like the rockery where we can guard them from being out-competed by stronger plants.

Moraea villosa and bulbocodiums in the rockery
There are too many freesias but we will relocate some and they are pretty on their day.

The most interesting bulbs also have back-ups kept in pots, sometimes in a covered house. They don’t get a lot of love and attention but the conditions mean they are more likely to survive and enable us to replenish the garden when they may have died out or to extend existing plantings. This is particularly true of some of the more interesting lachenalias, especially the blue forms.

Somewhere I have the name of this yellow tulip species. I am just not sure where. It does not exactlyy thrive here but it does keep returning each spring as long as it is given its own space. The white daffodil behind is ‘Thalia’.

It takes ongoing attention to keep the detail in a garden and it is the high level of detail that brings both Mark and me most pleasure and interest on a daily basis. Vistas, views and big pictures – a beautiful magnolia in full bloom or the aforementioned R. macbeanum – are great but they are only part of the gardening experience.

“Why do you like the dwarf narcissi?” Ruud Kleinpaste once asked Mark’s dad, Felix. when in the garden filming a story on magnolias for the TV garden programme hosted by Maggie Barry.

“Because they are small,” Felix replied.

I know exactly what he meant. I did, however, pop out briefly in the rain to snap the macabeanum for readers who prefer bigger, showier pictures.

Rhododendron macabeanum
The macabeanum was not supposed to stay in this position because it will grow a great deal larger over time but we will work around that as need be.

When the detail brings delight, not the devil

Tulipa saxatilis and simple cream freesias in the rockery this week

Bulbs play a major role in our garden. We use a huge range of bulbs, many no longer available commercially. Some never were readily available. Very few of those we grow are the larger, modern hybrids which are generally what are on offer these days. We prefer the simpler style of the species or at least closer to the species.

Added to that, seventy years of intensive gardening across two generations has built up the numbers most satisfyingly. Most of our cultivated gardens have bulbs incorporated in the plantings. Or at least bulbs, corms, tubers or rhizomes to cover the range.

Erythroniums

We have a fair few that are fleeting seasonal wonders in our climate but we just adjust our expectations. The cute erythroniums – dog’s tooth violets – are maybe a 10 day delight and can be taken out by untimely storms but that is just the way things are.

Meet Beryl. Narcissis ‘Beryl’ with cyclamen, nerines and even a Satyrium coriifolium in the bottom left corner

I don’t grow any in containers now although the same can not be said of Mark. His bulb collection is currently sitting in limbo for us all to see the scale as his inner sanctum – his Nova house – is currently being relocated. He hasn’t taken good care of them in recent times but he is determined to keep some of the rarer, touchier varieties alive. It is possible to maintain a more comprehensive bulb collection if you are willing to faff around with growing them in containers in controlled conditions. I am not so dedicated. My interest wanes if we can not grow them in garden conditions.

Gladiolus tristis popping up unexpectedly in our parking area

It is the random bulbs beyond the gardens that are currently bringing me pleasure. Some of these have been planted. Some have popped up from our nursery days. When trays of bulbs were being repotted, Mark had a strict rule that fresh potting mix was to be used (granulated bark was our chosen medium). Hygiene, he would explain. The old potting mix was spread around the place and at times it had seed or tiny bulbs within it. I am guessing this is how the Gladiolus tristis, a species gladiolus, came to be at the base of a cherry tree. I certainly don’t remember planting it there and I can’t recall it flowering before.

Ipheions at the base of an orange tree

When we plant bulbs beyond the cultivated garden areas, we try and select spots where they can establish in fairly undisturbed conditions. At the base of trees is good, as long as there is plenty of light. Around old tree stumps, on margins that don’t get mown often, or in little spots where we can walk past and be surprised to see them in bloom.

Trillium red with bluebells down in the park meadow
And trillium white with Lachenalia aloides tricolor and snowdrops to the right on the margins by a stump

We have rather too many bluebells now, to the point where I often dig out clumps to reduce overcrowding. The Spanish bluebells or the ones that are crosses between the vigorous Spanish and the more refined English species are definitely rampant, bordering on weeds. That sea of blue is very charming in their flowering season but sometimes it is the one seedling escape flowering bravely on its own that makes me smile as I pass.

The simplicity of a self-sown bluebell
Common old Lachenalia aloides where a tree stump used to be

It is both the transient nature and the detail that makes bulbs so interesting in a garden context. Far from simplifying our own garden as we age, the more we garden, the more we like to add fine detail. That is what keeps it interesting for us.

Bluebells and narcissi at the base of gum tree
Narcissus bulbocodium with bluebells

Plant Collector: Onixotis triqueta

Now Onixotis triquetra, no longer a dipidax

Now Onixotis triquetra, no longer a dipidax

It used to be a Dipidax and is still widely known under this name but I have never heard of a common name in this country. In its native habitat, the bulb wonderland of the Cape Province in South Africa, it is apparently sometimes called the waterflower, on account of its ability to grow in damp ground. In fact it will grow pretty well anywhere as long as there is reasonable sun.

At a quick glance as one passes by, the tall stems of many flowers look almost orchid-like but second glance will show you that they are closer to daisy-like with a dark eye. It flowers from late winter through spring but I see seed is forming already on these heads. The foliage is narrow and tallish, almost like a reed.

Onixotis are really easy bulbs to grow, though we fear they may have slightly invasive tendencies and prefer to keep them in designated areas. Seed is set freely and the bulbs themselves multiply readily so it is probably better not to have them growing through small shrubs or perennials.

Some bulbs have the weird ability to pull themselves down to greater depth in the soil, no matter what level you plant them at (others crowd themselves upwards). Onyxotis are burrowers so you often need to dig quite deeply if you want to lift them. Raised from seed, they reach flowering size in their second season.

First published in the Waikato Times and reprinted here with their permission.

The late spring bulbs


Left to right: Gladious carneus, a dainty allium, Romulea rosea, camassia, Phaedranassa cinerea, Stenomesson miniatum, Gesneria cardinalis, calanthe orchid, Albuca candadensis and spiloxene.

When spring bulbs are mentioned, most people think of daffodils, bluebells and tulips. But when they have been and gone and all that is left is the scruffy foliage, there are the late spring bulbs coming into flower. Most of these are less well known and certainly less celebrated in literature and art. For all that, they are often more interesting, maybe because they are unexpected.

We love bulbs here and with bulbs I include corms, rhizomes and tubers. More than any other type of plant, they seem to mark the passage of the seasons and to create the smaller, detailed pictures that add layers of interest to the garden. Maybe because the perennials and annuals are coming into their own at this time, the late spring bulbs are often ignored and therefore harder to source.

I headed out to the garden to see what was coming into flower. Discounting the earlier bulbs which are still flowering but well past their peak (veltheimias, the late lachenalias, Hippeastrum aulicum and the like), I found about 20 different types of bulbs coming into their own and that is by no means complete. There is little which is duller than endless lists and plant descriptions so I lined a number up for photographs.


Clockwise from top – Soloman Seal (Polygonatum multiflorum), tritonia, babiana, Satyrium odorum (orchid), rhodohypoxis, Watsonia brevifolia, tulbaghias – probably comminsii and possibly simmleri

I featured the rhodohypoxis in Plant Collector a fortnight ago. These are relatively common and form attractive carpets in pinks, whites and carmine red with their mass of star flowers. There is nothing rare or exclusive about Soloman Seal (Polygonatum multiflorum) either. It was common in the gardens of grandparents and is perhaps undergoing a surge of discovery amongst newer generations of gardeners. It is particularly handy for semi shade positions and, after battling a near impenetrable mass of entangled rhizomes, I decided it may well have some merit as a natural stabiliser for an eroding bank. I will report back in three years about the success or otherwise of this venture but as it will grow pretty much on top of the ground and grip hard, I am optimistic. As a bonus, the foliage turns golden in autumn – an unexpected source of autumn colour for us.

Hippeastrum papilio

Hippeastrum papilio

For sheer exotica, it is hard to beat Hippeastrum papilio which is just opening. Papilio means butterfly though I think it is more orchid-like really. This is a spectacular bulb from Brazil which is offered for sale from time to time. It is more expensive than rare. We had to try a couple of different places in the garden before we found a spot where it was happy but we now have it thriving in open woodland conditions.

Scadoxus puniceus

Scadoxus puniceus

While on the big bulbs, Scadoxus puniceusis one of our showiest but I won’t dwell too long on it because it is rather too frost tender for inland areas and rare in this country. Its cousin, Scadoxus katherinae, is a better bet for frosty areas because it is dormant in winter and doesn’t start moving until spring, flowering in summer. Similarly, our love affair with the arisaema family (sometimes called snake’s head lilies though they aren’t lilies) is of limited value because our showiest ones are Mark’s hybrids which we have never sold so they can’t be seen anywhere but in our garden. Given time, we may put them on the market but that is a way off. Most of the arisaema family hide their flowers below the foliage but Mark has managed to breed with varieties to bring out the desirable trait of holding their flowers above the leaves, making them much showier as well as being easy garden plants. You may, however, find Arisaema speciosum which is easy to grow and Arisaema ringens is relatively common. If you have a bank that you look up to, the flowers are little more obvious without having to part the leaves to see them. We describe A. speciosum as the closest thing to a cobra you would want in the garden.

If you are getting frustrated trying to find more unusual plants, there are good reasons why. Many if not most of the specialist nurseries throughout the country have closed down over the last decade as have most mail order nurseries. Treasure the ones that are left because there are few new plant businesses opening. However, bulbs are perhaps a little easier than trees and shrubs and I occasionally look at the bulbs section of Trade Me and see some interesting and less common material offered for sale there. Beyond that, you may have to start haunting your local horticultural society or keen gardening groups where there are likely to be one or two people who know their bulbs from their onions.

First published in the Waikato Times and reprinted here with their permission.