May riches

May might well be the most fantastic month for flower gardeners in the Bay Area. We still have spring annuals in bloom; deciduous perennials have reappeared, deciduous shrubs are blooming and those of us with bulbs such as iris and lilies are beginning to experience their show. Clematis are putting on a show and other early vines such as passifloras are beginning to bloom. I think of it as an overlapping period, with late spring rubbing shoulders with early summer. The weather isn't too hot yet we're in our sun-drenched dry season. In that light, here are a few photos to demonstrate my garden's recent reverie.

Iris louisiana Anne Chowning. A new, favorite iris, with vivid saturated reds and a splash of gold.

Hymenocallis (Ismene) 'Sulphur Queen.' One of the showiest bulbs, with a flared yellow cup and green ribs. Fantastic.

Ixia monadelpha. The shot didn't come out right, proving the auto setting can't always correct for a low light situation, but I love the "mood" of this shot.

Scyphanthus elegans. I'll admit to being crazy about this flower and it scrambles nicely in a contained area.

Moraea ramosissima. A less common moraea which, while simple, has its own charms. It took its time blooming, the other moraeas having bloomed in March and early April.

Cynoglossum amabile. A "tall" forget-me-not and I certainly did not! Bluer-than-blue.

Cephalaria gigantea. This aptly named scabiosa cousin can get very tall, to six feet, and has large pincushion-like blooms.

Drosanthemum bicolor. Still a best kept secret, dew flowers offer vivid colors and the softest, silkiest flowers imaginable.

Verticordia plumosa. Speaking of best kept secrets, not many have heard of this Aussie native. Colorful and tough (much like many gardeners, oui?)

Iris louisiana 'Pastiche.' I'm thrilled that this Louisiana iris has returned, back with its full color after a few pale years. These kinds of irises are my favorites right now -- large flowers, colorful, tough.

Clematis purpurea plena elegans. An uncommon clematis I found at Sonoma Hort last year. This particular flower hasn't opened all the way but you get an idea of its ruffled form. Plus, love that color!

Tradescantia 'Sweet Kate.' No truth to the rumor this spiderwort was named for Prince William's wife but it is a real keeper nonetheless. Gold & purple are royal colors I've heard.

Sambucus  canadensis. This is said to be one of the best fruiting elderberries. Not showy but it does feature verdant foliage and large heads of pure white, star-shaped flowers.

Plectranthus zuluensis. People are getting to know plectranthus as tough, shade-tolerant workhorses. Here's a closeup of the flowers that demonstrates that they can be showy too.

Aristolochia fimbriata. This pint-sized Dutchman's Pipe has pretty little flowers but I find the foliage equally charming.

Hebe evansii. Again, with many hebes it's the flowers that make the show but this Evans hebe has rich maroon new growth that is the real show for me.

Isoplexis isabelliana. The subject of this coming Sunday's Pick of the Week column, this fabulous sub-shrub IS all about the flowers. Related to (and once classified under) digitalis (foxglove), the rusty apricot flowers offer an otherworldly color all summer and fall.

This shot features the interesting color combination of the canary yellow scyphanthus, the pinkish-lavender of the double callibrachoa and the vivid purplish-blues of Lupinus pilosus. Long may they prosper!

Lupinus pilosus. I've included a few photos of what is so far my plant of the year  but this shot is taken looking straight down on the flower, providing a unique and entrancing view.

Tweedia caerulea. It's a mystery to me why nobody is growing this milkweed member anymore (thanks to Barb for keeping it going!). Fabulous color, felty grayish-green leaves, interesting seedpods. Mine survived the winter and is now filled with flower buds about to burst.

 Papaver 'Thelma Crawford.'This fabulous breadseed poppy isn't as well known as many others but you may be scratching your head as I am as to why that's so. Lit by the sun, the color is simply sensational.

Front yard. Here's a shot of my ever evolving front yard. It's where I throw caution to the wind and group all manner of colorful and intriguing plants together.

Passiflora 'Blue-eyed Susan.' Currently my favorite passion flower vine. And why not? That color is vivid and it's proving to be prolific. I laughingly call it my "Ex-girlfriend" plant, as there was indeed a blue--eyed Susan in my past who I was very much in love with.

A corner of the front yard bed, showing the combo of Satureja mimuloides on the left, Dianthus barbatus on the right, showing off its dark red flowers and the beginning of a purple salvia peeking out from the exuberant marmalade bush.

Physocarpus 'Coppertina.' I can never quite seem to capture the beauty of this copper-leaved ninebark. This is as close as I've come.

Back to Norm-al

Out of the ashes of a pretty crazy two weeks, my life is returning to norm-al. The bad pun is owing to the name of this blog, Norm's Nursery. And that name is in honor of my dad, Norman Nickel, who loved gardening. If he were still with us, he might find it amusing that his formerly hyperactive son had stumbled onto something that promotes and invites calm and contemplation. He too sought calm in a hectic world, be that in the garden or out on the water. That gardening should eventually have become my full time job, a writing career as well as tending to a large garden would certainly have pleased him to no end.
Anyway, a lot has been going on in my garden in the two weeks I've been waiting on a new camera lens and so here are a few photos taken today. As I type, I have oaktits, hummingbirds and hooded orioles visiting my kitchen window ledge, a mere ten feet away and easily seen from my writing desk. Keeping the various bird feeders stocked is also a bit time consuming but a small price to pay for their activity and sweet songs.

This photo of Sauromatum venosum isn't from my garden but my specimen bloomed for the first time this year and it deed indeed look like this. I have an expanding arum collection and this Voodoo lily is one of the coolest (and weirdest).

 Here's a new iris I brought home this week, I. louisiana Anne Chowning. Fab colors!

 For those not familiar with Nicotianas (flowering tobacco) or have only grown the small, plain bedding ones, it can be quite a shock to see some of the eye-popping species. This is N. sylvestris 'Only the Lonely' (someone clearly had a Roy Orbison fixation). It reaches 30" tall and sends out sprays of long tubular pure white flowers, making for quite the late spring show.

 Here a towering Echium wildprettii stands guard over a sprawling Calandrinia. Both feature glaucus foliage, providing a cool backdrop for vivid splashes of color.

 This Iris species has been spreading in a filtered sun location, a different color than what I remember planting but then again I may have forgotten planting it many years ago.

 This Dianthus barbatus offers dark foliage and velvety-red flowers. It's a neighbor to a burgundy-leaved eucomis (pineapple lily), making for vivid contrast with blue and green foliage nestled next to them.

 For those not familiar with Fuchsia boliviana, its impressive height and girth can take some getting used to. They not only bloom prolifically but they produce copious amounts of berries (unripe ones here are green, they are black when ripe). Amazingly they are edible (and sweet) to humans.

 Another arum, this Arisaema speciosum var. magnificum is about ready to unfurl its foliage. If I'm lucky, that will be followed by a large, maroon-spotted spathe. Weird & wonderful.

 Clematis niobe. Still my favorite clematis. Hard to beat the saturated wine-colored flowers.

 I've taken a few photos of my Clematis 'Belle of Woking' but it's been so happy this year that I had to take one more.

 I'll admit to having a special place in my heart for this short climber, Scyphanthus elegans.The flowers are small, an inch plus, but so cheerful and unique that I eagerly await its flowering every year.

 Antirrhinum 'Chantilly Peach.' Annie's Annuals does a series of snap dragons that are especially vigorous and this is one (group includes Dbl Azalea Apricot & Dbl Azalea & Dbl Azalea Pink). Sturdy, long blooming and lovely.

 Calycanthus occidentalis. Better known as California Allspice, on account of the flowers having a decidedly spicy fragrance. For me, they smell like vinegar, not one of my favorite smells, but the flowers certainly are lovely.

 Nigella. Everyone is familiar with Love-in-a-Mist flowers but a close-up reveals that the flowers are more intricate than they first appear seen from a distance.

 Cotinus 'Royal Purple.' I really soaked this tree this winter and spring and it responded with an extravagant flowering. There's nothing quite like a 'smoke bush' in bloom. I'm not quite sure how any gardener resists having at least one in their garden.

 Streptosolen jamesonii. The same might hold true for the awe inspiring Marmalade bush. I get more comments from passersby on this plant than anything else. Mind you, you have to like orange, as a mature specimen will bloom for 8-9 months of the year if given lots of sun. Plainly spoken, it's the most vigorous plant in my garden and if I didn't prune it back twice a year it would overrun everything next to it.

This smaller flowering Million bells is one of the Mini-famous double-form callibrachoas. Umm, just one question. Mini-famous? What the heck does that mean? No matter, it has produced cascades of gorgeous lavender flowers each of the three years I've had it, proving that good things do indeed come in small packages.

Taking the Heat

As I await my new camera lens, my focus shifts to an attempt to describe the beauty of plants, always a poor substitute for the exquisite fullness of a photo. Having as one's business the art of writing about plants, and it most certainly is an art,  is a messy business. There's the factual information of course, somewhat available on the internet, though I've been surprised sometimes how little easily found practical info there is on some of the plants I write about. I'm of the persuasion that the proof is in the pudding, that is, one doesn't really know how a plant performs until one grows it oneself. I once wrote a feature article entitled "Ten Gardening Myths" and right at the top of that list was the observation that it's often more misleading than helpful the information you see on the grower's label, or even in a general gardening book. Start with the matter of micro-climates, let alone zones, that can greatly influence how well a plant will perform. Add in factors like the amount of water it receives, whether the area around it is mulched, whether other plants around it will affect the light it gets as the seasons change and, well, you see my point. So when I've grown a plant in my own garden I can at least say "Here's how it performed in this micro-climate." That is not meant in any way to discourage someone from growing a plant, even in a less than ideal set of conditions. I guess it's another way of telling gardeners to pay attention to the various factors and use that information as a general body of knowledge for future planting. It may be glib to say "experience is the best teacher" but it's true. It's also another way of saying, which I tell customers at my nursery, that if a plant you're tending is working under its conditions then go with that. You can't argue with success.
Anyway, I always have that in the back of my mind when writing my column or describing plants here, which is why I will occasionally break the writer's credo about staying away from offering personal experiences and sticking to the third person in writing for the public. Sometimes the most pertinent info is my own practical experience.
As I noted in my last entry, Plant of the Week, there's certain plants I'll likely not make the focus of in my column. There are many plants that fit into that category (I guess that's a reflection of my never ending curiosity about a wide range of plants). As a brief example, there's a species of Abelia called A. species 'Chiapas.' This plant was initially harvested from a cliff overlooking Chiapas Mexico. The plant immediately forces you to re-evaluate what you know about this genus. It is not a bush like other abelias, instead having a trailing habit (which kind of makes sense since it was discovered on a cliff edge). It has lavender-purple flowers, not the typical pink. And perhaps most startlingly, this species is fragrant. Sweetly so. I'm sure I could bring it to a show & tell and no one unfamiliar with the species would have a clue it was an abelia. Ain't nature grand? And playful? I have one in my garden and its doing exactly what it's described as doing -- staying low and scrambling, producing the loveliest purple flowers which are, yes, sweetly fragrant. But Annie's Annuals is the only one I know that's selling it and this year I'm not sure they even will have any for sale. Which means I can't use it for a column. C'est la vie.
Meanwhile, we're all trying to survive the heat wave in the Bay Area right now. I'm spending the better part of my Saturday alternately watering and staying out of the heat. Sunday, when it's due to cool way down, can't come fast enough ...

Plant of the Week

I'd meant to do a Plant of the Week entry on a regular basis but working full time, writing my Chronicle column as well as the occasional feature, plus caretaking my own extensive garden, hasn't left me with a lot of energy to do so. However, there are plants that will never make it into my column simply because they're so hard to find. One such plant is Lupinus pilosus. Annie's Annuals made it available to the public a single time and it looks as if that will be it for this year. Too bad. It's the most beautiful lupine I've seen to date. A photo appears below, only somewhat adequately displaying the rich cyan blue tone of its flowers. I usually shy away from lupines as snails love them, sometimes climbing over the Sluggo to get to them. I took a chance on this one and it escaped that fate. It has only produced its first few flowers but that color and the luminous, silver-edged leaves make this my discovery of the year so far. My apologies in advance if this description makes you want to run out and buy it. All I can suggest is to see if Annie's has any left for sale to the public. I'll keep posting photos of my specimen so those of you who take a shining to it can follow it vicariously.
Meanwhile here's a few more photos from my garden. My 18-55 mm lens gave out on me yesterday so until the new one arrives I'm without a camera. So just nine photos here  and the last three were taken with my zoom lens, meaning I had to stand 10-15 feet away and try to get the focus just right. Thus, those photos aren't quite up to my modest standards. From top to bottom:

Lupinus pilosus. This photo will give a sense of the beauty of the flower. More photos to follow.
Shell turtle. One of the finds from my Half Moon Bay trip, this ceramic turtle has shells and barnacles attached to it. Kind of cute.
Cosmos Double Cranberry. Another shot of this fab new cosmos. I still haven't quite captured its beauty.
Front Yard color. This is mostly the Rhoeas poppies, Echium Blue Bedder, and an exuberant purple sweet pea.
Laburnum. I've taken a surreal delight to how floriferous my laburnum is after four years of not blooming at all. Maturity or has the more frequent deep watering done the trick?
Drosanthemum 'Pele.' It's amazing to me that this S. African succulent isn't better known. I mean, c'mon, LOOK at those flowers. And they're silky soft.
Clematis Belle of Woking. The first of the zoom lens shots, it doesn't quite pop but that soft lavender color and the double form still carry the day.
Papaver Single Black. It's a rich burgundy, as evidenced here, but who's quibbling about its name when this gorgeous breadseed poppy begins to bloom.
Exbury hybrid Red Hot x Orange. I was going to write a column on these fabulous deciduous azaleas but when I checked I'd already covered them in a column years back. I almost said heck I'll write a new column on them. For those not familiar with Exbury azaleas, they offer the richest reds, oranges, peaches and golds and are sun lovers. When they're planted in a stand and are ablaze in color there's nothing like them.