Elizabeth

Here in Ithaca it is approaching the peak bloom time for magnolias and this year has been no disappointment in the abundance of blossoms, including this selection known as 'Elizabeth'. "She" is a hybrid between M. acuminata and M. denudata that originated at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. The lemony-yellow flowers of this regal beauty are spectacular and slightly fragrant.

The relatively cool and damp weather has also heightened the quality of the cherries. There is a streak of Prunus 'Accolade' (a hybrid between P. sargentii and P. subhirtella) on campus that has been in flower for at least a week. This explosion of color might not be the tidal basin of Washington, DC, but it is pretty darned impressive nonetheless. Oh, and don't you love the horizontal lenticels (strips) that rip across the bark of cherries, particularly when they are young? Call it 'quiet interest'.

I wonder what the next few days of spring will bring? Even if I have a feeling what is going to be in flower, I still cannot help but be surprised. Someday, I will have my own garden, where I will be able to cultivate a zillion plants 'till my heart is content and I will be surprised each day by something interesting and fascinating.

Only in Ithaca...

While botanizing in the woods with some friends yesterday, we happened upon something extraordinary. No, not just the blooming spring beauties (Claytonia virginica). We saw a VW Bug made out of stone. One will only find this in Ithaca, NY, where old hippies go to die and new ones are converted. I could not help but laugh at the associations with a "Stoned VW". The detail was amazing, and there was a ring of bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) surrounding it.

The other night I went with fellow Philosophe Five member JM to dinner with a seminar speaker visiting from Costa Rica. En route to the restaurant, we talked a bit about subtle flowers and how they actually dominate the landscape. With that in mind, I figured I should give some credit to these underdogs here. The first is a pendulous species of willow, Salix repens 'Iona'. You can see the catkins (pussy willows) whose yellow anthers (the boy parts) really stand out against the gray below. This species makes a great rock garden plant, particularly if allowed to crawl and sprawl out over the stone.

Another plant in bloom right now is one near and dear to my heart, the katsura (see my first post for the full story). What you see to the right are the flowers of a male tree, a weeping selection known as Cercidiphyllum japonicum 'Morioka Weeping'. (Weirdly, all weeping katsura trees are male). Sure, they might lack the showiness of a magnolia, or the heavenly scent of a mock orange, but when you get up close, don't they look cool? The species is wind pollinated, so there is no need for the plant to invest precious resources in making pretty petals. It just make lots of pollen and throws caution to the wind (literally!)

STELLA!!!!



The star magnolia, Magnolia stellata, is another stunner this time of year. If there was to be a "tree species named desire", I might just lobby this one for the title. An early bloomer, she is an explosion of white petals, ushering in spring with a bang. I don't know for sure, but I think the plant I photographed above is the selection 'Centennial' -- at least it looks like it.

Interesting, how (for me at least) certain plants conjure up certain feelings. Some suggest stability, others bring about an odd nostalgia, and some even elicit nasty, harsh feelings. Yesterday when I plunged my face into this fluttering mass of flowers, I felt a carefree sense of desire. Perhaps it was just spring!

Pretty in Pink: II

To my loyal blog readers (both of you!) I apologize for the paucity of posts of late, but I figured I needed to concentrate time and efforts on a wee little exit seminar that I gave yesterday.
















The Rhododendron mucronulatum are in flower, and in particular an outstanding selection known as 'Cornell Pink' is making waves locally (no surprise, due to its connection to Cornell and Ithaca!). The photograph to the left was taken today in the Mary Rockwell Azalea Garden here on campus. Ironically, the soil pH in this site is rather high (an understatement) and very few azaleas and rhododendrons will grow there happily. Luckily, this Asian species, along with a few others, will tolerate the less-than-acidic conditions. What troopers they are!



Not much for social commentary this evening. Although, interestingly, there is a conversation going on at the table to my left about the Elephant Man. This chap is going on and on about the topic and is apparently doing a great job of impressing his date. She is eating it up as if it was string cheese and she was homesick for Wisconsin. Although, now she is talking about how obsessed she is with Thai food -- and now HE is eating it up. Sounds like a match made in heaven as they both have obsessions that (for now) intrigue the other. I wonder how long it will last? As for their conversation, it doesn't sound like it will fizzle anytime soon (they are talking about crispy pad thai). However, I am fizzling and need to wrap things up and head home.

Pretty in Pink

Spring splashes come in nearly every color, however during this time of year I always see an abundance of yellow. Whether the sources be token Forsythia that grace every 3rd residence, or naturalized daffodils that randomly poke up from the greening grass, Yellow is everywhere. And, that is good. I have nothing against the color. It is a perfectly good color; a primary one, in fact.

But, we can all use a bit more variety out there. A species I have always loved is Abeliophyllum distichum, sometimes called 'white forsythia' even though it is not a true Forsythia (the two genera are both in the olive family, Oleaceae, however). Alas, this white-flowering species is practically extinct in its native Korea, and it is just as rare in cultivation, far too often hidden away as an arboretum or botanical garden curiosity. Even more unusual is a variant that produces pinkish flowers, Abeliophyllum distichum f. roseum (pictured). Although the shrub may not be the most robust animal in the garden, it can be appreciated for its delicate nature and quiet interest. Plant an Abeliophyllum distichum f. roseum near the Forsythia x intermedia that no doubt came with your house, and surround them both with a carpet of grape hyacinths and crocus to produce a great pastel bouquet!

A brief statement on four-letter words...

Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary provides 8 entries for the word like. The definition at the very bottom of the list (following the more common entries) is the following:

Function: verbal auxiliary
chiefly dialect : came near : was near


Over the past hour-and-a-half I have borne witness to such an over-abundance of the term that I could, like, gag. Yes, you guessed it, I was sitting adjacent two Cornell Co-Eds, each garbed in Gucci and cashmere, and each sporting keyrings bearing BMW logos. Over one 5-minute period, I determined their mean rate of usage to be nearly 20 likes/minute. That is like, a lot.

A partial transcript of their conversation:

Bimbo 1: Did you, like, SEE Sonja today? I was, like,
"Omigosh, you can't be serious!" She was, like, parading around in her, like, sweatpants and high school band shirt.

Bimbo 2: Ewww! No Way! I, like, don't believe it. She wore that in the house? [I assume she meant Sorority House]

B1: Yeah! And like, Paige, Crissy, Tiffany and I were down there waiting for Rod to pick us up for class, because it was, like, snowing. He came in and he, like, had to have seen her. We were, like, "Whatever" and like, got out of there in a rush.

B2: How embarrassing. Like, no wonder she doesn't have a boyfriend.

B1: I know. I think we should have, like, a dress code or something for the downstairs. I mean, she was wearing that in the, like, afternoon!

B2: I, like, hate her.

It is funny, until you realize that these two darlings are attending an expensive and (apparently) selective Ivy League University (methinks they are not enrolled in any of the statutory [Land Grant] colleges of Cornell).