The Bulb Maven

The Morning Walkabout

My Mediterranean climate greenhouse is ablaze with color from Romulea to Oxalis, Tropaeolum to Gladiolus, but the very first thing I notice when I open the door is a delectable scent.  It comes from the most unpreposessing plant, so demure in its appearance you might even overlook it.  It is Muscari muscarimi.  Muscari, often called 'Grape Hyacinths' are from the countries that ring the Mediterranean, and there are about 60 species, most of which are fragrant.  The prize for fragrance, though, is taken by this little species from southwestern Turkey and some of the Greek islands.   It is seen here to the left.  Also from Greece and Turkey is M. macrocarpum, with bright yellow flowers and a heady scent.  Here it is to the right.  Both are easy to grow in a gritty mix with a warm, dry dormancy in late summer.  They reproduce vegetatively very slowly, and my plants have never set seed, so I am unable to list them on the web site.

I obtain many of my unusual bulbs by trading with other collectors or horticulturists, and I was happy to obtain three bulbs of a new color (for me) of Veltheimia bracteata.  It is a lovely ivory color, with a slight flush of pink.  I now have four colors, the usual pink, yellow, a very pale pink and this new one.

More Romuleas are now in bloom.  Here are R. subfistulosa and R. hantamensis (sorry about the poor picture of R. hantamensis, but this one is hard to photograph for some reason).    

Also from the Mediterranean is Scilla hughii, seen below.  This lovely Scilla is huge, with the flower heads a good 8 inches across.   It closely resembles S. peruviana, but has much wider leaves and longer bracts.  This very rare species grows only on a small island off the coast of Italy.  My seeds came from a most reliable source, and my plants are definitely the real thing.  I rarely get seed from my plants, but have found that tiny bulbils form on the roots, so propagating the plant is possible.

Canarina canariensis comes from the Canary Islands.  It is not a true bulb, but grows from a tuber, and produces large waxy orange flowers that drip with nectar.   It is in bloom now, and is dormant in the summer here, but can be unpredictable in its growth pattern, and will sprout in late summer or early fall if watered then.  Since it is not hardy, it is safer to treat it as a spring or early summer grower, withholding water until late winter.

  Narcissus bulbocodium is a delightful species.  I only grow a few of the small narcissus, and this, and N. obesus, are my favorites.  They are very easy to grow, and a pot full makes a delightful gift.  Mine were grown from seed distributed by the North American Rock Garden Society (www.nargs.org).  They bloomed in two years from seed.  If you don't belong to NARGS and you love plants, you should!  Don't be put off by the focus being rock gardening.  Their beautiful quarterly bulletin is a wonderful read, and rock garden plants and bulbs cover a very wide spectrum.

After the spectacular displays of the last two days, the geese have moved to different pastures.  They will be back, although soon they will head north for the summer, to be replaced by the swallows from the south.  Spring is here in northern California.  Ornamental plums and apricots are all in bloom in the gardens, and the wildflowers will follow.  My Hellebores in the garden seem to put on an inch of growth a day, and some have opened their buds.  The world is awakening after its winter rest.

www.telosrarebulbs.com 

The Morning Walkabout

I have posted previously on the California Fritillarias, and a few are already blooming.  The lovely little Fritillaria purdyi (seen here) is in bloom, with waxy flowers like Tiffany lamp shades.  This is a small plant, only about three inches tall, but the flowers are a good one inch in diameter.  They are the kind of flower that needs close inspection to appreciate their intricacy.  F. striata has been in bloom for about a month.  This is one of the truly outstanding western Fritillarias.  Not only are the flowers beautiful, but they are very strongly scented.   I have a bulb with pink flowers (very unusual), but the other one in bloom at this time is the more usual white, striped with purple inside.  Here it is to the right.  F. striata is from the Greenhorn mountains of southern California.

More of the South African Gladioli are in bloom now.  Seen here to the left is G. maculatus.  I keep meaning to go out at night to check to see if it is night-scented like others that are brown or brownish.  It has a faint rather peculiar scent in daytime.  G. carinatus is in bloom, with green and purple flowers that have a sweet scent.  Here it is to the right. 

The yellow Veltheimia breacteata  always bloom before the more common pink ones.  They are in full bloom now, and the large brush-like flowers of Scadoxus puniceus 'magnificus' are also starting to show.

Now is the time for my favorite Oxalis species -- Oxalis obtusa.  The color range of this species is incredible, with the added beauty of delicate veining, often in a contrasting color, and an intense eye ring.  I have so many different color forms of O. obtusa that I do get occasional seedlings.  Now, I really don't want Oxalis seeding itself around my greenhouse, but with O. obtusa I have found three beautiful seedlings quite different from the colors I already have, so I don't mind finding a few plants here and there.  Below are three, from left to right; O. obtusa 'Blush';   O. obtusa 'Peaches & Cream' and O. obtusa 'Elizabeth'.  

  

I should explain a little about the South African oxalis and seed.  It is unusual to get seed from these species, since the same species of Oxalis exhibit a condition known as heterostyly, where the stamens and stigma have varying lengths, producing incompatibilty between plants that have differing structure.  So you can have several genetically different Oxalis obtusa, but they won't cross pollinate to produce seed unless the stigma/stamen ratio is compatible.  This prevents self-pollination and encourages outcrossing. I have a lot of O. obtusa clones, so I clearly have some that are compatible.  And that's all right with me, since I don't get massive amounts of seeding, and I get some lovely surprises like the ones above.

This is just the beginning of the O. obtusa season.  They will peak in February, and be over by the end of March.  Let's hope for some new surprises.

www.telosrarebulbs.com

The Morning Walkabout

I believe walkabout is an Australian term that refers to aboriginal practices that are somewhat equivalent to Native American vision quests.  I love the sound of the word, and when I want to take my morning tour of the nursery, I will call the dogs, saying "let's go walkabout". 

My morning always starts with the computer, but I get up very early (this morning 3am -- ugh), so I have some hours to do computer work before I check on the bulbs and start packing orders.  I need that time, since the computer part of the business keeps growing, at times making it difficult to get other necessary work done.  I try to answer all e-mails, but I get almost inundated with questions, and get frustrated with 'how do I place an order' type of questions (answer, it's all on the web site).  There's only me, and only 24 hours in the day.

As usual, One-Eyed-Jack and Titus are in their favorite places, Jack in the 'International Orders' tray and Titus in the 'Ship This Week' tray.  The clock is ticking faster for Jack.  He is an old cat that I rescued from an Indian Reservation.  He had lost one eye to cancer, and soon after developed cancer of the other eye, but that eye was saved.  Now he has cancer of the nose, and after four surgeries, the vet says she can't do it again.  He has signs of kidney failure and a heart murmur, and has that dying cat look about him.  I always want my pets to die at home, but without a vet who will do housecalls, and facing the certainty that he will have to be put down, the day will come soon when I will have to steel myself and make that fateful journey.  I am a dreadful coward about such things.  Right now he is in my lap, and I am trying to be patient when he walks all over my keyboard, randomly hitting keys that make strange things happen to my computer.

Dawn is my absolute favorite time of day, watching the light in the sky gradually change, the world awakening with roosters crowing and birds singing.  In Oroville, in the Sierra foothills, the sun would burst over the mountains, bathing everything in a golden glow.  Here the dawn is soft and misty, all out of focus, with everything shimmering with dew and the roar of the surf in the distance.  Late-risers don't know what they are missing (literally).  Yesterday the dogs and I took our usual morning walkabout, finding a few new things blooming, and some other treats awaiting us, like this little frog nestled in the leaves of Eucomis regia.

Albuca spiralis is blooming, and the flowers are OK, but it is the leaves that are really wonderful.  They have the texture of rubber, and are coiled like a spring.  Here they are to the right. 

I had posted before on Pancratium canariense, and my clumsiness in breaking off the one emerging bud.  Well, my bulbs took pity on me, and have sent up two more flowering stems, so now you can see what it should look like.  This is a wonderful plant.  Here it is full size in a five gallon pot, and also a close up of the umbel, below.  A bit more attractive than the wilted broken off bud seen before. 

There are many Rhodophialas in bloom right now, including the wonderful R. bifida and the pink form that is often called R. bifida v. spathacea.  There are pictures of both on the previous posting on Rhodophiala, but here's a picture of R. splendens.  

I am happy to report that the Bomarea house (see previous posting) is a great success.  My Bomareas have grown to touch the roof, which is about seven or eight feet tall.  Here's a picture of a Bomarea I have always called 'Wayne's', since Wayne Roderick gave it to me years ago.  I think it is B. acutifolia or something closely related to it.  Hummingbirds love Bomareas, and I was amazed to see yesterday morning a hummingbird with a bright yellow throat feeding on 'Wayne's'.  Yes, really!  I was not hallucinating, and I ran and got the binoculars.  It must be a juvenile, since there really aren't any hummers with yellow throats, but it was very striking. 

The dogs get pretty bored in the greenhouses, so off they go on their adventures.  The horses wander over to see if I have anything interesting.   When I call the dogs this morning and take my morning walkabout, I will stand there with my coffee mug staring off into the mist and remember that sad day in September seven years ago. 

www.telosrarebulbs.com