Marsh Marigold

Dear Readers, by the time you read this I will be on holiday (in the sense of ‘not working’ rather than ‘ going off somewhere exciting’) so there is the usual palaver around making sure nothing will blow up in my absence. Being a recovering perfectionist is a hard road to travel – I have to accept that a) I’m not irreplaceable and b) the organisation can get along very well without my presence. However, I do love to leave things in a tidy condition, and so for my blog post today I have spent a whole fifteen minutes in the garden before getting back to the grind.

I wouldn’t even have done this if a huge cardboard box containing 3 water irises hadn’t turned up – they were already potted up and ready to be dropped into the pond, so it seemed like the least I could do for the poor things. Can I just put in a plug here for Puddleplants if you are in the UK and want some pond or bog garden plants? I have been so impressed by the standard of the plants that they provide, and if they aren’t happy with the quality of anything they will let you know and ask if you want a refund or a different plant. Their customer service really is second to none.

Anyway, today’s delivery was of three Iris x robusta ‘Gerald Darby’, and if they thrive they should look like this:

Iris x robusta Gerald Darby (Photo One)

…though at the moment they look like this:

And yes, the water level in the pond is down yet again. We’ve had no rain for weeks. I am growing creeping/dangling plants along the pond edge and may gradually remove some of the stones to get a more natural look, but in the meantime I’m looking to the skies.

Everything seems to be taking off. The water mint is extending its little invasive fingers and will no doubt be planning to take over the pond shortly.

Water mint (Mentha aquatica)

The water figwort plants look extremely happy.

Water figwort (Scrophularia auriculata)

The yellow flag iris are shooting upwards. I love its butter-yellow flowers though it can be a bit of a thug. This one will need dividing for next year.

Yellow flag (Iris pseudacorus)

The leaves of the first water lily have broken the surface, though whether that’s because the leaves have grown up or the water level has gone down I shall leave for you to judge….

The yellow loosestrife (Lysimachia vulgaris) has just broken the surface of the water. One of the pots slid off the ‘shelf’ around the edge of the pond and has upturned and disappeared into the depths. I shall try to retrieve it soon – my planting guide suggests that it should be under no more than 10 cm of water, and it must be in about 70 cm so that isn’t going to work. The other three are wedged in, so should be safe!

And finally the purple loosestrife is springing forth. Every year it gets so big that it ends up toppling over, and every year I think to myself that I should try to prevent this from happening. Sadly, ‘think’ is all I seem to do, being a bit short of inspiration. Maybe another case of dividing and putting into a heavier pot?

Away from the pond, there has been some cat-on-bird action – I ‘discouraged’ one slinky black and white marauder who was hiding under the bushes but he or she might have been back. Fortunately there are usually so many birds in the garden that someone sounds the alarm. Plus, fortunately, the feathers of woodpigeons are very loosely attached, so all a predator often gets is a mouthful of fluff.

I rather liked these grape hyacinths, but the bees don’t, much preferring the dark blue ones. Still, you live and learn.

The forget-me-nots that my friend J gave me are out…

And so are these wallflowers. I bought them thinking they would be cream and mauve, and instead I have one yellow one and two red ones, which rather mucks up my colour scheme. Never mind. Also, what’s with the leaves going brown around the edges? All advice gratefully received. I’ve been watering them religiously (or rather my husband has).

The ferns are looking good too! I have a couple more that have been in a pot for ages so I’m planning to liberate them this year.

And look, here is my one English bluebell (it’s a darker blue than it looks here, and the flowers do flop endearingly to one side so I’m fairly confident that it is Hyacinthoides non-scripta, as purchased). And yes, there are some stinging nettles next to it which will most likely be coming out when I have something to plant in its place.

And finally, I have planted up some honesty seeds (also given to me by my friend J) and have taken delivery of three woodruff plants (Gallium odorata), all of which will be popped into the shady side of the garden.

Woodruff and honesty seeds….

And finally, how about this red valerian that’s planted itself next to. the water butt? Whenever I see this plant it makes me think of Dorset and my time with Mum and Dad – the Red valerian there used to self-seed in every crook and cranny, and there were white and pink forms too. I don’t have the heart to pull it up.

Red valerian

And so, it’s back to work to tidy up a few more things. I hope to be having a few more exciting trips over the next few weeks – there are wetlands to visit locally, (Walthamstow and Woodberry), parks to walk in, and all sorts of places to explore. But I hope to be spending lots of time sitting in the garden too. After all, the lilac is almost in flower.

Lilac buds….

Photo Credits

Photo One from https://www.bethchatto.co.uk/conditions/plants-for-damp-conditions/iris-x-robusta-gerald-derby.htm

Crown Imperials (Fritillaria imperialis)

Well Readers, there are some plants that are not meant to be ignored, and crown imperials are right up there at the head of the group. Look at those extraordinary blooms! The plant looks as if it’s wearing a spiky hat for a start, and then there are those Dundee United coloured flowers. Who would ever guess that the plant is a close relative of the delicate little snakeshead fritillaries in my garden?

Snakeshead fritillaries (Fritillaria meleagris)

Another puzzle for me is the location where I found the crown imperials – right next to a pond in Golders Hill Park. The Royal Horticultural Society website says that the plant doesn’t like damp or heavy clay soil, requires full sun, and the bulb is prone to rotting, so this not an ideal site. Apparently the plant might flower like a good ‘un in its first year, but will then have an attack of the vapours and refuse to produce anything interesting for the rest of its life. Let’s hope that plans are afoot to look after these lovelies once they’ve flowered.

Crown imperials (Fritillaria imperialis)

The plant comes originally from a broad swathe of land, starting with the  Anatolian plateau in the west and ending up in the foothills of the Himalayas.However, it has apparently naturalised itself in Austria, Sicily, and Washington state in the US. I found it difficult to imagine this flower growing in the wild so here’s a lovely panoramic shot of wild crown imperial in Fars, Iran.

Wild Crown Imperial in Fars, Iran (Photo Two)

And here is another shot of wild crown imperials in Kurdistan. Goodness how I miss travelling….

Crown imperials in Kurdistan (Photo Three)

The flowers, which can be red, orange or yellow, apparently have a strongly foxy odour, which deters mice and other creatures who might otherwise eat the bulbs and flowers.

But here’s a thing! Apparently the flowers are pollinated by blue tits, a most unusual thing in the northern hemisphere where we don’t have hummingbirds or sunbirds to rely on. This was apparently featured in this week’s ‘Gardener’s World’ for those of you in the UK. For a more science-y view, here’s an article from New Scientist which explains that crown imperials produce a special kind of nectar, containing sucrose, which is specifically adapted to birds. Blue tits are the only birds who are light enough, and dextrous enough, to access the flowers without doing them any damage, though other species do destroy the flower to get at the sweet stuff.

Photo of blue tit under crown imperial by Mark Williams (Photo One)

Apparently, the nectar is so copious that it trickles out of the flower if you give it a tap, and therein hides a legend. Apparently, the crown imperial was once pure white, but when Jesus passed by in the Garden of Gethsemene it refused to bow its head like all the other plants. When Jesus reprimanded the plant, it blushed in shame and cried, hence the colour of the flowers and the ‘tears’.

I must say that I am becoming fascinated with the fritillary genus. While the crown imperial doesn’t particularly appeal to me, some of the others certainly do. How about Fritillaria persica, the Persian Lily,  which comes in black or white?

Fritillaria persica (Photo Four)

Or Fritillaria acmopelata, the Anatolian fritillary?

Fritillaria acmopetala, the Anatolian Fritillary (Photo Five)

It’s always useful to remember that all these plants are members of the Lily family, however, and to keep an eye open for those bright maraunders, the lily beetles, adorable-looking as they are.

Scarlet lily beetles (Lilioceris lilii) (Photo Six)

To get back to the crown imperial, however: its bulb is poisonous, but apparently can be eaten when cooked. I suspect you’d be much better off with an onion, and that would be cheaper, too.

And finally, a rather enigmatic poem. What do you think, Readers?

Otherwise Known

by Diana Brodie

My room feels crowded, stuffy,
and I open windows wide.
The tallest officer stands close
as he stares out at my garden.
He asks the names of flowers
and trees: Sophora, walnut,
sweet chestnut. He points
to the flame-coloured flowers
pressed against the wall –
Fritillaria imperialis, I reply,
otherwise known as crown imperials.

It seems someone has died, alone,
whose name I have never heard.
And in another continent.
I do not know, I say.
No relative of mine.
I hope you trace his family,
he had a sister, did you say?
They thank me for my time, drive off.

Left on my own, I know. I know.
I pick up the phone, call them,
tell them that I know. I know.

Photo Credits

Photo One by Mark Williams from romhttps://kensingtongardensandhydeparkbirds.blogspot.com/2020/08/it-was-another-hot-day-but-spell-is.html

Photo Two By Sahehco – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=26320080

Photo Three by By Khezriyani – Own work, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=40594934

Photo Four by Hari Krishnan, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Photo Five by Zeynel Cebeci, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Photo Six by Charles J. Sharp, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Field Wood-Rush (Luzula campestris)

Dear Readers, I know that some of you gardeners might disagree, but I was charmed by this little plant, growing on one of the grassy banks in a sunny part of the cemetery on Saturday. Look at those lovely hairy leaves! These are a distinctive feature of the wood rush family, who all belong to the genus Luzula. Luzula might come from the Italian word lucciola, meaning ‘to sparkle’, probably a description of how the plant looks when it’s wet with dew. Another derivation could be the Latin word ‘luculus’, meaning a summer field, or a small place. Whatever the original meaning of the word, I have rather fallen in love with this plant, hiding in plain sight as it is. My photos are good enough for identification, but to see the full prettiness of the

Flowers of Field Wood-Rush (Photo by By Leo Michels  Own work, Public Domain)

I note that the plant is also called ‘Good Friday Grass’, from its habit of springing into flower at Easter (it was pretty close this year, but as the date moves by several weeks I am not totally convinced). It is also known as ‘sweep’s broom’, for obvious reasons. It is found right across temperate  Europe and into the Caucasus. North American readers might recognise its very close relative Heath Wood-Rush (Luzula multiflora) – indeed, some botanists think that it might be the same species. To add to the complications, Heath Wood-Rush is also found in Europe, including the UK, and looks very similar. Both species like short, unimproved grassland, with Field Wood-Rush being particularly fond of acidic conditions: the RHS suggests that build up of ‘thatch’ (the dead stems and leaves of grass and other plants) acidifies the soil, and helps the wood-rush to thrive. Both species are also described as ‘pests’ in ornamental turf such as golf courses, and the RHS suggests using lime to change the pH of the soil to get rid of it. On the Pitchcare website, the author has a historical perspective, relating how Field Wood-Rush became a problem when poor pastureland was ploughed over to grow crops during the World Wars.  Personally, I think that a grassy area is much more interesting with a variety of plants in it, and lots of other creatures would agree, though possibly not golfers, bowlers and golfers.

Heath Wood-Rush (Luzula multiflora) (Photo One)

All of the wood-rushes provide food for moths. The Smokey Wainscot (Mythimnia impura) is one species whose larvae will munch their way through the leaves, hairs and all, before overwintering as a tiny caterpillar. I love the very marked veins on the wings of this moth, and the fringes around the edges – it looks rather like upholstery fabric!

Smoky Wainscot (Mythimnia impura) (Photo Two)

And how about this little chap, with his ridiculously long antennae?  Coleophora otidipennella is a micro moth without a common name, and the larvae feed only on the seeds of the wood-rush.

Coleophora otidipennela (Photo Three)

You might sometimes find yet another Luzula, Greater Wood-Rush (Luzula sylvatica) in woodland, and there are several ornamental varieties. I think it could be a fine choice in a particularly shady spot where nothing else will grow.

Great Wood-Rush in an oak wood with wood anemones in the background (Photo Four)

Flower heads of Great Wood Rush (Luzula sylvatica) (Photo Five)

I keep seeing references Field Wood-Rush as being ‘one of our commonest grassland plants (and for some rather lovely photos of the plant in situ, have a look here). I am astonished that I’ve never noticed it before, and I love that even after seven years of a more-or-less weekly ‘Wednesday Weed’ I am still finding new plants. I also love that the Lorn Natural History Group website refers to it as ‘a happy little plant’ as this was exactly the impression that I got. I know that anthropomorphism is deeply unfashionable, and for sure most of the time I am projecting: this plant makes me feel happy, so how could it not be happy itself, flowering away on a sunny spot? There is a deep satisfaction from both finding out what on earth a plant ‘is’ according to our classification, and also noticing our own reactions, and being curious.

And so, to a poem. As you might expect, finding a poem about ‘Field Wood-Rush’ proved to be impossible, but looking for ‘Good Friday Grass’ brought up this vignette by Edwin Morgan. Morgan was a wonderful poet who wrote extensively about the poor and dispossessed of Glasgow, but I think this poem can be read on many levels – it’s about an incident that I’m sure will feel familiar to many of us, but it’s about lots of other things too. See what you think!

Good Friday

by Edwin Morgan

Photo Credits

Photo One By Krzystzof Ziarnek, Kenraiz – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=47451611

Photo Two by Ilia Ustyantsev from Russia, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Photo Three by Patrick Clement from West Midlands, England – 37.072 BF578 Coleophora otidipennella, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=63729084)

Photo Four By Cwmhiraeth – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=47073845

Photo Five By Pablo Alberto Salguero Quiles (Alberto Salguero) – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=731186