Ornamental Grasses are cooler than you think

At some point, during the numerous rounds of introductions that occur when you are constantly meeting new people, it comes out that my graduate work involves working with grasses. Because people up here are all secret gardeners, a lot of them recognize a few grass genera, like Miscanthus or Arundo, and while they are excited about using grasses for biofuels , they are also, with good reason, usually a bit concerned about the invasive potential of some of the genera and species we are exploring.

Don't worry secret gardeners, sterility is a focus.

It is true, that some grasses are a bit difficult to control. Some are quite difficult to control. But I will tell you a secret that all the real gardeners know: grasses, in combination with hardy perennials, are the future of ornamental gardening. Despite this, I have noticed a general hesitancy of the general public to use grasses in personal gardens. I believe this to be a combination of trepidation (due to the negative reputation of some of their rowdier cousins), preoccupation with bright flowers, and lack of proper grass socialization (there are lots of nice grasses out there, you just have to go out and meet them).

To be fair, it is easy to get preoccupied with flowers.

But its not all about flowers in the garden: ultimately a good looking garden looks good because of the textures and forms the garden utilizes. If you're doing it right, your garden looks good even as a black and white photograph. Color is the icing on the cake.

While I can't help with the preoccupation with flowers, and can't guarantee that certain grasses won't become ornery little monsters if you plant them and then ignore them, I can help with the lack of proper socialization, by introducing some of the more charming and interesting ornamental grasses I've met recently.

But first, some introductions:

Grasses are found pretty much all over the world in almost every climate. There are basically three large grass families: the true grasses (grasses found in the Poaceae family) the sedges (Cyperaceae) and the rushes.

Poaceae contains over 10,000 different grass species bound together by a few similar traits: hollow stems that become solid at the nodes, and alternate leaves (called blades) with parallel venation. These grasses "grow up" in that the actively growing portions of the grass are located near the ground in many species, or at the base of the leaves, so that minimal damage is inflicted by grazing. Many grasses grow in size by producing rhizomes, or stems that spread along or under the ground, sending up new little daughter plants or shoots. Some grasses are more ferociously rhizominous, leading to their unfortunate, though often legitimate, labeling as "thug plants." 

But its not all bad, or even nearly bad. You might not know it, but you are already in love with grasses. All this convincing is pretty much just for fun, because, deep down, you already know: grasses are the reason you exist. 

Grasses are some of the only plants that really matter to us, as far as general utility is concerned. If we were forced to choose 100 plants to save in this WHOLE WORLD, grasses would be at the top of the list. Poaceae contains some of the celebrity grasses that our species has known, loved, and bred for literally thousands of years, including all the major cereals.

Here are the heavyweights: corn, rice, wheat, millet, barley, oats, sorghum, rye, sugarcane, bamboo, and pretty much all turf grasses. If you're wondering about papyrus, yep, its a grass too (technically a sedge). Not to mention that the majority of our herbivore food species are grass eaters.

Long story short, these things are adaptive, and we have adapted to live with them. Make no mistake, we are not forest dwellers. We are the horses of primates. We colonized the woods after our gradual evolution among grasslands, and many of us took the grasses we had come to rely on back to the woods with us. Our history begins with our harnessing the power of grasses, and their domestication of us. Who knows, maybe turning grasses into energy is just the next step in that process.

Japanese blood grass (Imperata cylindrica) scary name for a pretty plant [careful though, it runs]:

Grasses in the Landscape:

Grasses are not roses. They are subtle, reliable, provide a long season of interest, and can tolerate diverse and difficult environments. They help to recreate the strange, wild tranquility of meadows and prairies by catching and dispersing light through their movement, resulting in a background that is both static and dynamic simultaneously. They can grow in tough soil, and many provide their own natural fertilizers by attracting microcritters and getting them to fix nitrogen for them in return for food. They decrease erosion, are generally disease resistant and largely pest free. Drawn to their unique texture and movement, their muted colors and strong forms provide a place for eyes to rest as they scan the landscape.

This is why grasses are on the cutting edge of landscape design.

Switch grass (Panicum virgatum) 'Heavy Metal' and Arkansas Bluestar (Amsonia hubrichtii)

'Heavy Metal' is a nice powdery blue selection, that will turn yellow to beige in the fall, and will usually remain upright in the winter. It can handle drought conditions, and holds its upright form well enough to use as a single planting in a garden (though it looks nice as a mass planting as well). Gets about five feet tall.

Just in case you keep seeing turf grass every time you close your eyes and imagine grasses, I have included some pictures from my adventures that explore a sampling of the many varieties of form, color, and texture that grasses have to offer:

Form: Canes, clumpers, runners, and blades

The form of a plant is determined by the plant's structure. Grasses exhibit a wide range of forms, from the larger cane species (like bamboo) to your cane-lacking tiny turf grasses. The forms I will be looking at include canes, clumpers, cascading vs upright, and differences in leaf (blade) thickness.

With the exception of Arundo donax, I don't have any pictures of "runners" in this blog entry, mostly because grasses traditionally categorized as runners tend to be invasive and not "garden safe." While most grasses produce rhizomes to increase in size, the proximity to the mother plant and the frequency of sending up shoots is important in determining if a grass uses its rhizomes to "run" or to "clump." As is to be expected, runners send up shoots that are located away from the mother plant, while clumpers send up shoots that remain, at least visibly, part of the mother plant.

Arundo donax: Upright canes

This huge grass, sometimes called Giant Cane (because of its tendency to get almost twenty feet tall in places with long, hot summers) is originally native to eastern Asia. From far away, it is easily confused with corn. The tall, upright canes produce long alternate blades at each node (about a foot apart). It grows very quickly: with access to enough water, it can grow up to five centimeters a day. The canes are strong, flexible, durable, and the source for reeds used in musical instruments like saxophones and oboes. Watch out though, depending on where you live this grass could be invasive. It is also highly flammable during drier months. Fun Fact: some enthobotanists think compounds in A. donax might have been an ingredient in the now lost drink/drug Soma used by ancient Hindu and Zoroastrian priests.

Miscanthus sinensis 'Morning Light': Thin, cascading clumpers

Miscanthus have been used as ornamental grasses for centuries. There are tons of Miscanthus cultivars and a few different species to choose from, resulting in pretty significant variety throughout the genus. 'Morning Light,' for example, has thin green leaves with light yellow stripes edging the blades. It puts on tall flower spikes, with small maroon flowers which fade to silver as winter approaches.

Feather reed grass Calamagrostis x acutiflora 'Karl Foerster': Thin, upright clumpers

Eventually all those flower spikes are going to puff out into tiny feathery rose-purple flowers. The screening effect (being able to see through one plant and observe another) is often more apparent when the grass is thin and upright, which makes the grass more susceptible to movement during the softest breezes.

Switch grass Panicum virgatum 'Hanse Herms': Upright clumperAnother switch grass. This particular cultivar is sometimes called red switch grass because of the deep burgundy fall color. Unlike 'Heavy Metal,' the foliage is a soft green with red highlights.

Hakone grass Hakonechloa macra 'Albovariegata' Thick, cascading clumpers

One of the few grasses that can tolerate some shade, this is probably one of my favorite grasses. These soft grasses create circular mounds about three feet high. They range in color from a bright lime to the nice, darker green you expect from grasses. Some cultivars, like 'Albovariegata' exhibit variegation.

Hakonechola (no variegation)

Color

Grasses are colorful! If you don't like green, how about purple? Or copper, or pink? How about some variegation, or some white? Just saying, its not all green all the time.

Hakonechola 'Aureola'

While it only gets to be about two feet tall, it makes up for its size by being super interesting. Thin band of green, edged on both sides by yellow stripes. Nice.

Carex buchananii 'Red Rooster'

A nice copper-colored sedge with red accents. Its also nice in containers if you buy it when its still a small quart-sized grass.

Arundo donax 'Peppermint Stick'

I really like this plant. Was a sport off of a regular looking Arundo. What a great cultivar name. Must say that it looks great up here right now. That photo is from the heat of summer, and it is still keeping that clear white variegation. Awesome.

This is a plant that everyone should know.

Its RICE. Oryza sativa 'Black Madras'

Nice purple

Here's a cute little blue grass with awesome flower spikes: Blue Fescue Festuca glauca 'Elijah Blue'

This might be the cutest one.

Finally, for a nice, mid-sized purple: Purple fountain grass Pennisetum setaceum 'Fireworks'

Texture

I'm getting tired, so I'm just going to let the pictures do the talking.

Prairie drop-seed (a kind of new lawn grass alternative, only needs to be weed whipped a few times a year)

Nassella tenuissima Mexican feather grass

Muhlenbergia

Here are grasses at the Mountain Crop Improvement Lab in Fletcher NC. These are part of our energy grass trials, but they look gorgeous in the fall:

 Adventure is out there

Morris Arboretum

Finally finally made it out to the Morris Arboretum. I tried to go a few weeks ago, but ended up getting, of course, hopelessly lost. I tried again on Wednesday of last week to find Morris and once again got lost, but this time at least found the place (even if I was too late to make the tour). It was horrifying how easy it was to find once I was heading down the right road going the right direction (durrrrr). But I guess that is how most things are. The people I work for are, I think, baffled at my inability to find anything, even with mapquest directions and hand drawn maps complete with landmarks. I am baffled, too. Often it feels like I am just driving around by the seat of my pants, which is fun, until you are late for things. BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME.


So, the Morris Arboretum is really cool. I don't mean cool in the way that young people often use the word as a substitute for adjectives that would more accurately describe an experience. I mean cool as in "with it," because this arboretum is, for lack of a better word, hip.

I mean, look at that thing.

Quick facts: Morris is composed of various collections and gardens that cover roughly 92 acres of contiguous land, showcasing over 2,000 different plants from 27 countries (with particular emphasis on asian temperates). My favorite aspect of this particular garden is the way relatively small space is cleverly partitioned. Using artful and intelligent design, Morris creates beautiful microclimates for various collections with limited space. This arboretum is tight, cohesive, creative, and very well maintained. The ravine garden, for example, is cleverly hidden from view in an actual ravine, accessible through a hidden stairway from a small pavilion in the sculpture garden. 
 

Other interesting "little" gardens include an alpine garden with dwarf conifers, an herb garden, the larger rose garden (has a very "english garden" feel), the seven arches bridge overlook, the Pennock garden, many mixed borders, the pond garden (a clever mix of japanese and victorian asthetics), the fern and stumpery, a meadow garden, and an azalea garden. They also have a garden with a little electric train! And little tiny houses! And perennials! Also, a nice little sculpture garden.

The Rose Garden

The Pennock Garden

One of the things I think makes this arboretum so "cool" is its emphasis on the education of younger people as one of its major goals. This arboretum is gives high-end modern museums strong competition. Even the food is great. There is a huge focus on children as well, and instead of slipping down the dangerous slope of garrish attempts to attract the interest of children, I think this arboretum does a great job providing informative exhibits in pretty creative and subtle ways that are still interesting to kids:

This is one of the many subtler education pieces at Morris. Some of the trees are near sidewalks, and to explain how far roots extend and how large the systems can become, roots have been painted on the sidewalk by certain trees. This picture doesn't really do it justice, because it looks cool, and stops to make anyone think, even the people who already know that root systems are often the size of the tree you're looking at, if not larger.

Some of the educational stuff is even more subtle, such as their tendency to combine different species and forms of the same genus or species in the same space, such as these mop-head and lace-cap forms of Hydrangea macrophylla:
 

The rest of this post is going to pretty much be plants or garden designs that I thought were interesting and pretty. We'll start off with the Chinese Toon, or Toona sinensis. Originally known as cedra, its a temperate member of the tropical mahogany family, and yields beautiful wood. It produces long, thin, flexible branches, with white to pink panicles of flowers in the summer which smell a bit odd. Compound pinnate leaves, but the real eye catching feature of these trees is their amazing bark:Nice.

I may have already ranted about the awesomeness of Dawn Redwoods (Metasequoia glyptostroboides) as Scott has a Dawn Redwood allee that I am very fond of. They aren't just cool because they're a living fossil only rediscovered in 1944 in China. They aren't cool just because they are the fast growing redwood, and the only surviving species in their genus. They aren't just cool because as the smallest redwood they are known to get at least 200 feet tall (think a twenty story building) and are deciduous with nice yellow fall coloration. They are cool (see now I'm doing the uses-cool-instead-of-more-appropriate-adjectives) because they are gorgeous, and imbue any space where they are planted with soft, open shade and a sense of peace. And because, on top of being totally overqualified as an ornamental, they are tragically under-utilized in the landscape, and critically endangered in China.

Your new side project is to help save/plant metasequoias.

 

Ironically, there is a metasequoia preserve in the Blue Ridge Mountains of NC (who knew). Turns out metasequoias used to be native on this continent, but became extinct about 35 million years ago. They are thriving here, but even as fast growing as they are, the preserve isn't scheduled to open to the public until 2035.

Makes a human life seem a bit short.
And the obsession with poppies continues. I know that its dangerous to fall in love with annuals and tricky perennials, even ones that self seed and reappear, but I can't help it with poppies, especially oriental poppies (genus Papaver). Its not just their pretty little flowers, it is also how well designed their seed pods are, like tiny covered buckets that spew out hundreds of seeds if accidentally bumped or blown by the wind. This is a well put together flower.

Brugmansia is one of my new favorite plants for tropical containers. I like both the yellow and pink-flowered forms. Its one of those fun this-plant-is-totally-poisonous-and-can-induce-crazy-hallucinations-if-any-part-is-ingested-in-too-great-a-quantity. Its also fun because it is a deeply sacred plant found in South America that certain groups use as a hallucinogenic intermediary to communicate with the unseen world that we've decided looks pretty enough to put in pots!

Horticulture sometimes makes me wonder about the nature of cultural sensitivity. BUT its a beautiful plant, and certainly the fact that it is being well taken care of in gardens all over the country, I believe, is worthy of its sacred heritage and makes me feel a little better about liking it in the first place.

I just liked the color combination of this container.

 

Red hot poker, Kniphofia, also known as torch lily. Its an impressive color display, provides great points of focus and structure in the garden, and hails all the way from Africa.

One of my favorite thing about the rose garden is that it wasn't just roses. It incorporated a lot of plants that either matched the roses in color or form, were complementary in color, or provided strong vegetative structure and unique interest. For example, you see in this picture a nice rose/lily color combination with giant fennel in the background provided a semi-transparent curtain shielding the viewer from the pink roses in another part of the garden, so that we can focus on these nice soft yellows and burnt oranges. Giant fennel is awesome, by the way, it just doesn't photograph very well.

And here is the largest bottlebrush buckeye (Aesculus parviflora) I've ever seen.

While I see a bunch of Rudbeckia sp. in a lot of the gardens I have visited so far, including R. fulgida 'Goldsturm', R. laciniata, and R. maxima, this is the first annual R. hirta that I have seen, and 'Prairie Sun' was always one of my favorites. Look at those pretty green eyes.

Adventure is out there

Winterthur

I had planned on going to Philadelphia last weekend, but at the very last minute I chickened out, and decided instead to do something a bit more relaxing: drive around aimlessly. Over the past couple of months I have spent quite a lot of time driving around trying to find gardens, only to discover that I was hopelessly lost. While being lost and under time constraints is very stressful, driving around Pennsylvania is not. I was originally going to drive around listening to bad radio until I found some place interesting to explore, when I saw a sign for Winterthur, a duPont estate and garden which has been turned into a beautiful museum.


So that is what I did instead, as driving around aimlessly seems a bit more selfish than usual what with the oil spill and the imminent destruction of all things beautiful. I took many beautiful pictures, but accidentally deleted them, so you will have to use your imagination.


Winterthur is more akin to a Biltmore Estate than a garden. Your admission ticket purchases access to the gardens and the large estate-museum, with a complementary introductory tour of the estate, which includes six or seven iconic rooms. You are also given access to galleries displaying some of the duPont Americana collections, ranging from furniture to clothing to children's toys that were all created between 1640 and 1860. There is a lot to do and a lot to see.


A bit about Winterthur:
Ultimately this is a country estate turned museum. It was designed and maintained by Henry Francis duPont, who, of course, made all his money through his position as a wealthy duPont heir. He was an avid horticulturist and collector of Americana artifacts. A museum showcasing his impressive collection of Americana was already well established in his lifetime. During the tour I saw shelf after shelf of porcelain that had belonged to the Washingtons, or silver created by Paul Revere. Original paintings of famous revolutionary heroes litter the 175 refurnished rooms of the house. Many of the rooms have a theme, such as the thirteen colony rooms, each with architecture and furnishings from an estate located within the original thirteen colonies, or the china sitting room, with beautiful jade planters and hand-painted chinese wall paper.


Of course, I spent most of my time being deeply unsettled by the whole thing, even as I could not help but be interested in the variety of fascinating objects and architecture you run across in such a place. It was unsettling for a variety of reasons, I guess. The rooms were all very small and dark, for one, and filled with objects that I felt little connection to. The obvious deification of the founding fathers was a bit troublesome too, although I can't quite verbalize why. Also my tour group was dominated by individuals who kept repeating over and over how beautiful things used to be, with this strange nostalgia, forgetting that this was the house of one of the wealthiest individuals in the country. Its was a bit twilight-zoney.


The gardens were beautiful, and much more simplistic than the Longwood Gardens. I missed all the azaleas and peonies, but am starting to get past flower displays to enjoy the foliage and form of deciduous azaleas particularly, especially the soft blue-green foliage some exhibit. Most of Winterthur's gardens are somewhat naturalized, in that they are found within a maintained forest of large, old hardwoods. I wandered through the old trees, enjoying the shade and the green, and trying to avoid the white statues of people hidden throughout the woods. I wandered the gardens, spending most of my time in the large pinetum, staring out over the fields that surround the house. While exploring around, I found a dead crow. I found their statue garden, where engraved stones called out, "life is but a dream," just in case passersby had forgotten for a minute about the nature of our mortality.


That's when I realized that I am more superstitious than I thought. I highly recommend Winterthur, unless you are unsettled by graveyards and the like. It was heartening to see that the trees and gardens still grow, despite the house being a monument to the dead.


Adventure is out there.

Olivia graduates

Haven't posted in a while. This is mostly the result of the temperature. Pulling weeds all day in 90 degree heat turns me into a sleepy irene who has just enough brain function to figure out how to work a dvd player and the snooze button. Also, I have kind of been busy doing stuff around the home base lately due to watering schedules and things so I have not gone on any exciting adventures lately. Will be heading to North Creek Nurseries tomorrow though, and Morris Arboretum next week. This weekend is devoted to Philadelphia and seeing some of the historicky things.

Catalpas are out right now and looking good.

My first instinct was to emasculate these:

IN OTHER NEWS

One of my sisters is about to graduate from high school, and as is to be expected, I am neither attending her graduation nor going to have her gift finished in time.

Just trying to keep it real.

But, just so that she knows that she is in fact getting something, as she has had to deal with my flakiness for something like 18 years now, I thought I would post proof that I am nearing the completion of the project, and include the awesome poem (i know, i know) that i wrote for her.

JUDGE NOT LEST YE BE JUDGED k?

To Olivia

We are sisters always.

We have been bound together,

By the tribal laws and sunny days,

By the whirling sweetness and ferocity

Of a common childhood.

We know each others' hearts,

And hold the keys

To secret joys and secret grief.

We keep vigil over the other's past.

To the outside world we all grow old,

But not to each other.

We live outside the touch of time.

For I knew you when your hands were small,

And your eyes were wide,

When your soul breathed freely,

Unfettered by the strangeness of this world.

Secret plans and hidden doors,

Sticks and stones and swings.

A witness and a mirror,

A partner in crime and a steady companion,

The one who sings the loudest

Queen of the summer country now obscured

I laugh when you laugh,

Because we know all the best jokes.

Here is the "physical proof" (internet oxymoron?) that I am actually working on the project. As of now it is 2/3 complete. Three sets of eight panels, just in case you're wondering.

Anyway, congratulations Olivia! I know all your speeches will go great because you are great.