Welcome to The Weeding Gnome

Brought to you by Plants Nouveau

In today's Issue:
Why Is It I Adore Skunk Cabbage So?
Introducing Astilbe ‘Delft Lace’
--- The Garden Rant for April 2, 2010 ---
I grew up in rural, northern Maryland, just south of the Mason-Dixon Line in a t
own called Street, yes Street…not "A" street, but the town of Street.
At the time, I thought my parents were torturing us because everyone else lived
in what we used to call a “development” when we lived in the “country”. We had
no neighbor kids to play with, so we had to make our own fun…outdoors. Imagine c
hildren actually playing outdoors.
A novel idea, eh?
We were fortunate, although I didn’t realize it at the time, to have oldfields –
a somewhat over grown or second stage meadow – to frolic in and a virgin beech
forest in which we spent our summer days. There was a stream to hunt for crayfi
sh and salamanders in the summer and ice skate around rocks and logs (we loved a
challenge) in winter.
We built many forts, some temporary and some permanent. We ran through the fore
st barefoot, although I will admit always being fearful of snakes. Played in th
e meadow, along with the beef cows that called it home. The cows were our neigh
bors. We tried to play with them, but cows aren’t very playful. We teased and
ran from the bulls, running so fast and escaping over the barbed wire fence just
in time.
I have the scars to prove it.
Growing up in this environment was normal to me. I collected May apples (Podophy
llum peltatum), the leaves of skunk cabbage and tirelessly tried to use trout li
lies (Erythronium americanum) in flower arrangements for my mom as I repeatedly
watched them wither in my hand as I walked from the forest to our house. This wa
s all part of life for me.
I didn’t realize how lucky I was.
When I was four, my parents and aunt claim, although there are no pictures to pr
ove it, that while we were camping in western Maryland, I acquired a pet moss.
That’s right, moss. I picked up a piece of moss and carried it around, petting
it and feeding it and talking to it during our camping expedition.
I was an only child at the time and the only child on the trip…I needed a friend
.
Is this sad or cool? Am I weird? (Don t answer that)
As an adult, I try to give my children the same experiences and I bet, if my par
ents had forced things on me like I force things on my children, I would not hav
e been nearly as intrigued as I was, discovering these things all on my own.
My mom pointed out the skunk cabbage and the May apples to me, so I’ve known abo
ut them since I was a young child. My mom loved May apples – maybe that’s becau
se she was born in May. She didn’t like the smell of the skunk cabbage leaves.
That made me want to rub them even more…he-he.
My dad knew the animals, he showed us how to catch and safely release crayfish a
nd salamanders. He taught us how to spot poisonous snakes in the woods. He help
ed us catch our box turtles each year for the annual box turtle race on July 4th
.
Didn’t everyone have a box turtle race?
Mom had to feed the turtles we caught and she was the one who got up in the midd
le of the night to release the fireflies we captured and tried to keep as pets,
because they were making scary noises in our room.
We had a good thing going. I try desperately to incorporate all of these things
into my kid’s lives, but its much more work for me than it was for my parents.
Each spring, about this time, I stop the car and make my son walk the stream ban
ks to see the first skunk cabbage. He loves it and looks forward to it each yea
r. The leaves smell like skunk – what seven year-old boy wouldn’t love that?
I get so excited to see their leaves emerge. It makes my day. Somehow, that si
gnals the official start of spring. And for some reason, it reassures me everyth
ing s all right in the world.
I think skunk cabbage is way cooler than any hosta - plus they are native. Ther
e is an eastern species, a western species and an Asian species. The eastern sp
ecies has a white flower (actually a spathe) and both the western and Asian have
yellow flowers (also a spathe).
Sure, they need pretty specific growing conditions, but that makes them even mor
e coveted. I remember touring Arboretum Trompenburg, in Rotterdam, The Netherla
nds many years ago (note to self: really need to get back there soon). They hav
e a stream that is lined in a very ornamental way, with the yellow flowered, Asi
an version. This is the only “ornamental” use I’ve come across in all of my trav
els.
A skunk cabbage lesson, if you will:
Symplocarpus foetidus, grows in eastern North America.
Western Skunk Cabbage, Lysichiton americanus, grows in western North America.
Asian Skunk Cabbage, Lysichiton camtschatcense, grows in eastern Asia.
It’s so awesome, especially if you happen to be there when they are in bloom in
late winter - it’s quite a sight.
Skunk cabbage is cool for many reasons. Most notably, for its ability to genera
te temperatures of up to 50-80°F above air temperature by cyanide resistant cell
ular respiration in order to melt its way through frozen ground, making it one o
f the very few plants to exhibit thermogenesis.
Although it often flowers in snow and ice, insects that emerge in late winter su
ccessfully pollinate skunk cabbage. Studies suggest the production of this heat
not only allows the plant to grow in places where it might not be truly hardy,
but the heat may help to spread its odor in the air. Carrion-feeding insects tha
t are attracted to the scent may be enticed to enter the spathe because it is wa
rmer than the surrounding air, increasing pollination.
Who knew skunk cabbage, a plant with a most unfortunate name, was so smart?
Once, I even taught a native plant flower arranging class at the Native Plants i
n The Landscape Conference and guess what?
That s right.... we used skunk cabbage leaves. Everyone was grossed out at firs
t, but they learned to love the glossy, architectural of the leaves.
Just don’t crush it…
So many things excite me in the spring; pruning roses, looking to see if perenni
als survived the winter, cutting back ornamental grasses, the emerging stalks of
false indigo Baptisia australis), which I’m happy to report is the 2010 Perenni
al Plant of The Year, and now you know a strange little secret about something e
lse that excites me.
I adore me some skunk cabbage. Maybe I am weird, but at least I’m honest!
Sadly, I don’t have any stinky plants to introduce to you this week, but I do ha
ve one that surprises everyone who grows it. I would like to introduce you all
to Astilbe Delft Lace’, brought to us from those clever, plant finding folks at
AB-Cultivars in The Netherlands.
This is no ordinary astilbe. I’ve killed many ordinary astilbe. No, my friends
, this is one heck of an amazing astilbe and you MUST try it.
I spotted this new selection on my first visit to AB-Cultivars in 2006. The pla
nts had been forced into bloom for my visit and they were magnificent. I ran ov
er to the pots to see if they were real.
Being much more of an astilbe killer than an astilbe lover, I was intrigued by t
he deeply lobed, lacy, deep, bluish-green foliage. That was just the beginning.
This astilbe had a silver overlay that really made it look like a cyclamen, at
least that was what it looked like in The Netherlands, the land of milk and hone
y for perennials.
Would it look the same here in the US?
The blooms of this new selection were beefy and full, much like that of the ever
-popular selection ‘Visions’. I like Visions because it can actually handle som
e sun and the foliage is just as pretty in the summer as it is when it emerges i
n the spring.
Delft Lace is a tough, vigorous selection too and when it came to the states, mu
ch to my dismay, the silver overlay all but disappeared, but wait…an even better
trait emerged.
Given some sun, the leaves of Delft Lace turn burgundy, like the deepest burgund
y of purple leaved bugbane (Cimicifuga racemosa ). Some astilbes leaf out with
purple-ish red leaves, but I don’t know of one that continues with burgundy leav
es all summer, especially when planted in full sun.
Delft Lace was one of our first introductions, but it is just now catching with
the growers. You should see this one for sale this year in many garden centers
and home stores. If you’d like to try one, let me know and we can try to send y
ou a bare root to plant before it is too late.
Happy egg dying and chocolate eating this weekend!
Remember to dye your eggs with those freshly picked beets at the farmer’s market
. It turns them a lovely shade of magenta and spinach, which my son said made t
hem look like pea soup.
Good times and happy weeding!

Angela Treadwell-Palmer
President, Plants Nouveau

--- Angela’s Garden Notes ---

Plants Nouveau is proud to present a fantastic new astilbe from AB-Cultivars of
The Netherlands.
This new astilbe was discovered as a seedling of unknown origin. Delft Lace has
deep blue-green, waxy foliage, much like the foliage of the ever popular selecti
on ‘Visions’ with a softer, much more garden-worthy bloom.
Size: 24-36″ tall by 24-36″ wide
USDA hardiness Zones: 5-7
Sun/shade: full to part shade
Soil: average garden soil
Moisture: moist, but well drained to get established
Disease and Pests: none known
Landscape use: Shady foundation plantings, mass plantings, commercial landscapes
, urban gardens, containers
Market appeal/Uniqueness: This new astilbe grows as strong as ‘Visions’ yet has
a soft peach bloom like ‘Peach Blossom’. The glaucous, lacy foliage will add thr
oughout the summer and into the fall. Plant this election in full sun with plen
ty of water and you ll get a big surprise - deep burgundy leaves that last all s
ummer!
Propagation methods: root cuttings, divisions
Bloom time: Early June for 6 to 8 weeks
This plant will outperform ‘Peach Blossom’ in garden settings and will be a supe
rior container plant in nursery culture. Imagine Peach Blossom with fantastic fo
liage and unbreakable red stems and you have Delft Lace. The mighty blooms are h
eld high above the foliage on candy apple red stems. The buds emerge deep salmon
-pink and open to a soft apricot-pink.