Think Yellow?

Walking on Broadway today, I was startled to see a ray of bright yellow poking out of the omnipresent white — no this wasn't some variant of yellow snow. It was a variegated yucca (yucca filamentosa), probably the common cultivar, 'Color Guard', but there are other variegated cultivars like 'Bright Edge' and 'Golden Sword'.

What really intrigued me was that it seemed so completely unfazed by the extended arctic temps we've experienced and unbowed by the weight of multiple heavy snowfalls.

So many of our evergreen perennials shrink from extreme winter weather by wilting, flattening out, or curling their leaves. It's nice to see one that can spit in the eye of the old man, especially one that's usually associated with hot, dry places.

This is one tough hombre!

Variegated yucca, probably 'Color Guard,' on Broadway at 103rd Street.

Think Green!

We are buried in white here in the northeast and I am craving green (although happy to be warm indoors). So I looked back through my photos to see what green plants I could find on or near this date in years past. Here are two candidates from 2012 — a mild winter — both photographed at Brooklyn Botanic Garden on January 31.

Autumn fern (Dryopteris erythrosora) is one of my new go-to plants. I really love ferns, and my previous go-to semi-evergreen was Christmas fern (Polystichum acrostichoides), but when the really cold weather sets in, it tends to flatten out and look like wilted lettuce. It's not very cheery in bleak weather, which runs counter to the main reason we usually choose evergreen plants — to brighten otherwise brown landscapes. Autumn fern isn't native like Christmas fern but tends to hold its green longer and stay upright better.

I had always wanted to try dwarf mondo grass (Orthiopogon japanicus 'Nana'), but the one time I did, I'm afraid I didn't give it enough light and it has failed to fully fill in. The patch seen here is on a knoll in the Japanese garden at BBG and gets some direct sun. Growing a solid mass like this probably takes a fair amount of time and cash, but it seems like a good low-maintenance alternative to turf — although it's probably best to minimize foot traffic.

Autumn Beacon

Anyone familiar with the Pool in the north end of Central Park knows the fall beauty of black gum — also called black tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica).  There's a wonderfully positioned specimen there taking full advantage of the water's reflective property. A tranquil water body, like the Pool, is ideal not only to reflect the intense fall foliage, but also to sate the tree's desire for wet feet, so a pond-side planting pleases both plant and people.

Michael Dirr writes that black tupelo "would be among the top five shade trees in the landscape were it not so difficult to transplant; ideally it should be transplanted as a small tree." Unfortunately, it also grows slowly, so plant it as a gift to future generations. They'll thank you every fall when it lights up the landscape.

Black gum reflected in the calm waters of Central Park's Pool.

Pollinators & Predators

I was busy snapping photos of some flowering garlic chives (Allium tuberosum), which was just crawling with pollinators slurping up a free lunch, when I was surprised to see a well-camouflaged Chinese mantis (Tenodera aridifolia)  sitting on the blossoms. On closer inspection, I noticed one of the lunching honeybees (Apis mellifera) had become lunch herself (worker bees are sterile females). As the mantis — one of a hunting pair — savagely ripped into her body with its powerful mandibles, the hapless (and helpless) field worker thrashed its legs about wildly.

Gruesome stuff!

Chinese manitis on garlic chives in Riverside Park, NYC.

The king is dead, long live the king?

Monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus), once so plentiful, have been woefully scarce this summer. I've seen fewer than a dozen on both the east coast and in the upper mid-west combined this year. In past years, I saw hundreds.

This is scary.

I remember years in the past decade when stands of asters were so alive with migrating monarchs that they looked like animated flower gardens.

Can they rebound? 

Monarch butterfly feeding on a butterfly bush (Buddleja davidii)  along the Hudson RIver Greenway in Riverside Park, NYC.

Northwoods Bluebells?

(MN edition) 

Probably the most overused — and therefor confusing — common name in the plant world is 'bluebells'. All American horticulturalists know that 'bluebells' can refer not only to our wonderful Northeastern native, Mertensia virginica, but also to Hyacinthoides non-scripta  and Hyacinthoides hispanica — English bluebells and Spanish bluebells.

So, knowing these three vibrant species, I was left scratching my head when my mother-in-law referred to 'bluebells' here in the Northwoods. I simply couldn't remember seeing any similarly showy bell-shaped flowers on my walks around the island. 

That's because the 'bluebells' she was referring to are not vibrant or showy — at least not in the wild — and if you aren't paying close attention to the flora at your feet, you could easily trudge right by them without a glance. However, once you begin to truly notice Campanula rotundifolia — also called harebells, or bluebells of Scotland — you'll never blindly disregard them again.

Harebells, or Scottish bluebells, on a sandy embankment in the Chippewa National Forest