Category: Interesting Plants

What’s New?!

Just back from OFA – my discipline’s humongous tradeshow and conference in Columbus, Ohio. All things Floriculture – new perennials, annuals, and seasonal plants, technology, structures, and equipment for greenhouses, and plants and products for floral designers. The bulk of the show and educational sessions is focused on growers, but garden center owners and florists are also targeted.  I was part of two team talks for growers on “Perennial Production Problems and Solutions”.

Aside from the thousands of attendees and hundreds of exhibitors, it’s like a big family reunion for floriculture faculty involved in teaching, research, and Extension. We introduce our latest graduate student to our own back-in-the-day classmates and our “old” major advisors. Beers are consumed. We’ve come to determine that we’re quite inbred; most floriculture researchers and educators received degrees and/or are employed by Michigan State, North Carolina State, Purdue, U. Florida, Cornell, or Minnesota. Many of our collegues have left academia to R&D positions in the horticultural corporate world, the conference also gives us a chance to catch up with them.

One of the highlights of OFA is the amazing array of new plant introductions from industry leaders such a Ball, Ecke, Syngenta, Dummen, Proven Winners, etc. Most of these names are not familiar to gardeners – they are wholesale (business-to-business) brands that provide growers with seeds, plugs, and liners, to be grown on and sold at retail. Proven Winners is one of the few vertically-integrated brands that market throughout the supply chain, from grower all the way to the consumer.


‘Gryphon’ – an exciting new begonia from PanAmerican Seed.

There are a slew of begonias out there – so what’s so special about this one (besides reaching almost 2′ in height and width)? Most fancy-leaf begonias are propagated by rooting vegetative cuttings that wholesale for $0.50 to $1.25 per liner.  This one’s grown from seed ($0.05 per), enabling the grower to produce a beautiful plant yet still make a decent profit margin.  The margin in our industry is ridiculously miniscule – wholesalers seem to constantly undervalue their product compared to all the costs involved in growing and shipping.

But I digress. I’ll post more from the “hot and new” front in ornamental plants on my next installment!

Five little lavenders – an update

Long-time readers of our blog might remember my August 12 column (linked here for your convenience).  You saw my giant lavender plant devolve into 5 small plants with tiny spiraled root systems that put Marge Simpson’s beehive to shame.  In any case, I promised to keep you up-to-date with their progress.

Transplanting in August is a risky proposition, especially when you prune out root defects.  Nevertheless, all but one of the five survived the summer and here they are earlier this spring:

The one that didn’t make it was in the upper left corner of this south-facing landscape, where there is a lot of reflected heat from the nearby bricks and concrete.  (You can see the empty spot where it was in this photo.)

If you haven’t tried corrective root pruning before, I’d encourage you to try it with an inexpensive shrub.  Your best bet will be older containerized plants in the “sale” section of your nursery.

The Other Lamb’s Ears

I’m assuming even you tree people (aka other
Garden Professors) are familiar with the soft, silvery leaves of Stachys
byzantina or Lamb’s Ear (variously Lamb Ears and Lamb’s Ears).  Not to
disparage S. byzantina, but in our part of the world it looks like a
pile of wet dryer lint in the winter; and can become similarly
disfigured during a hot, wet summer.  Spring brings bright,
pet-able new ears, followed by woolly flower spikes that could serve as
Q-tips for Shrek. Runs/reseeds like a banshee in my home garden.
As
Dr. Allan Armitage notes, “We’ve been lamb-eared to death.”

But there are several other species of
garden-worthy Stachys, one of which is garnering lots of attention in
our campus garden at the moment. Behold, Stachys officinalis ‘Hummelo’ – Wood Betony or Alpine
Betony.

Also sold under S.
officinalis and S. densiflora. Most nurseries seemed to have settled on
S. monieri, but that specific epithet does not appear in the ITIS
(Integrated Taxonomic Information Systems) database. Armitage lists it as a cultivar
of S. officinalis and then has S. monieri as a separate species.

Regardless of pedigree, ‘Hummelo’ is a terrific perennial.
Clumps of glossy green scallop-edged foliage are topped with
spikes of rosy-lavender flowers throughout the summer. Heat- and
cold-tolerant; it’s hardy from Zones 4 to 8. Full sun or part shade,
drought tolerant, deer resistant…what’s not to like?

Back to the ubiquitous version of lamb’s ear…we
have a superior selection of S. byzantina with the fabulous cultivar
name of ‘Countess Helene von Stein’. Rarely flowers, and has bigger, tougher leaves that hang in there regardless of humidity. Very effective
when barked at students with a Teutonic accent: “Countess Helene von
Shtein! You vill learn dis plahnt!”  You may find this in
the U.S. under the comparatively boring ‘Big Ears’.

Mystery berry revealed

You guys are just too smart – I was hoping to trap someone into guessing a Vaccinium species. But no, you all knew this was a Taxus spp. (yew):

Because Taxus is a gymnosperm, this reproductive structure is actually a cone.  It’s botanically incorrect to call it a fruit of any sort, as the term "fruit" refers specifically to angiosperms. Taxus cones are modified for seed dispersal to include an edible, fleshy aril (very good, @GardenHoe!), whose taste and color are attractive to birds. The seed (which is toxic, like all vegetative parts of the plant – you’re right, Jimbo!) passes through the gut undigested.

The toxin in Taxus is the alkaloid taxine.  Like many alkaloids, it’s a potent neurotoxin. Other alkaloids you’re more familiar with include caffeine, nicotine, and codeine.

Friday mystery

I just got back from Nanaimo BC, where I had gooseberries with my afternoon tea.  Below is another "berry" found on a commonly used ornamental.  (I use the term berry loosely – as you may know, the botanical definintion for berry excludes fruits like strawberry and raspberry, which are aggregate fruits.)

I’ve photoshopped this so that only the two "berries" are visible. On Monday I’ll post the entire photo, along with some botanical fun facts! See if you can guess what this is before then.

Mystery photo uncurled!

There were a few brave souls who ventured to ID the mystery plant – a trunk shot is not particularly helpful, I know.  But I was hoping that its contorted nature might help a little.  (It wouldn’t have helped me at all, but you all know by now that I am NOT a taxonomist.)

So our mystery tree is a curly willow (Salix matsudana):

…which may or may not be synonymous with Salix babylonica.

In any case, it’s an interesting tree that’s relatively cold hardy.  Like many willows, it has weak wood and is prone to breakage.  But in the right location (away from targets) it could be a lovely specimen.

A nifty garden to visit

I missed my regular posting on Wednesday since (1) I’m on vacation and (2) I hadn’t had time to find anything sufficiently worthy of posting.  (Of course I have a compost barrel full of snake oil products I could rant about, but even I get tired of that.  Especially on vacation.)


Note the strategic head placement

But yesterday we visited the Niagara Parks Botanical Gardens just north of Niagara Falls.  We didn’t have nearly enough time to see it all, so I’ll share just one special corner.

The Poison Plant collection isn’t listed on the map, and the only reason I noticed it at first was the giant hogweed (Heracleum mantegassianum), a particularly noxious introduced species, in the center.  Looking closer, I discovered unique signage for these plants.

I think these types of display gardens – poisonous plants, noxious weeds, etc. – are great educational tools.  The trick, of course, is keeping them from setting seed and spreading.  And keeping 15-year-olds out of them.

Our visiting Garden Professor and his Kentucky coffeetree

By Dr. Charlie Rohwer

Since my last guest professor submission (buying organic food for health) garnered so much discussion, I thought I’d try to write about a less controversial topic: evolution.  There’s no scientific doubt that’s where plants (well, all species of everything, really) come from, but what got me thinking about it recently was my Kentucky coffeetree.

My wife and I bought our first house a couple years ago, and for the previous 25 years at least, the landscaping had been severely neglected.  Ubiquitous rock mulch on top of plastic, a cherry covered in black knot, and zero space used for any kind of garden, unless you count the 2 sedum suffering under rocks and plastic.  So we made lots of garden space and bought our first tree, a Gymnocladus dioicus.  But as the epithet indicates, Kentucky coffeetree is dioecious.  The plant either has male flowers or female flowers.  We liked the fact this tree will get tall but not spread too wide, tolerate our soil, have interesting bark and leaves, and the winter shade will be fairly sparse, but we didn’t really want to have the big seed pods from the females.  We bought an unsexed plant in 2009 and hoped for the best.  Make no mistake, we were proud parents, regardless of the sex of our newly-planted 7-foot stick.  It flowered this year, with only stamens.  It’s a boy!  But it got me thinking, where and when did its dioecism come from?  It amazed me that I hadn’t considered it before because I actually work with another dioecious plant, hops (Humulus lupulus).

Flowering plants probably started their evolutionary timeline with both male and female parts near each other.  Carpels (female) and stamens (male) are specialized places where male and female gametes (sperm and egg) are made, fused, and the young sporophyte, as a developing embryo, is protected in maternal structures.  Sounds familiar, but as Bert stated in a recent post, we need to strictly avoid teleology.  In fact, though more common in some parts of the world, dioecism is the exception in flowering plant reproduction (<10% of species).  Most flowers you see are hermaphroditic, with both male and female parts together in the same flower.   Dioecism is so dispersed among plant genera, it’s probably evolved many different times, and is thought to arise through a series of evolutionary steps.  For example, in one mechanism, some individuals within a species loose the ability to make pollen (genetically), and some plants within that species can still produce both male and female flowers.  Then selection can act on the two types of plants separately, and at some point, the ability to make female parts disappears in the hermaphroditic line.  But there are different ways to arrive at dioecism that help to explain how it arose multiple times in so many diverse plant lineages.  Genera other than Gymnocladus (a legume) and Humulus (complicated taxonomy, but clearly related to Cannabis) that have evolved to be dioecious include Spinacia (spinach, an amaranth), Pistacia (pistachio, in the cashew family), Asparagus (a monocot), Dioscorea (yam, in the….yam family), and Ginkgo (not even classified as a flowering plant, and not a conifer either!).

Kentucky coffeetree is a legume, but think of every other legume you know and dioecism is the exception, by far.  Pollination and dispersal mechanisms, optimization of reproductive resources, and outcrossing pressure are thought to drive evolution of these species away from hermaphroditic flowers.  Evidently this happened to the Kentucky coffeetree lineage by 50 million years ago.  About 40 percent of the time that flowering plants have existed, Gymnocladus has been dioecious.  That’s 1 million times longer than a 50-year-old person has existed.  Dinosaurs had been extinct for 15 million years or so by the time the Kentucky coffeetree lineage split from other legumes.  Those are numbers we have a hard time grasping because natural processes have been around a lot longer than we have.

 

Reading:

Ainsworth, 2000. Boys and girls come out to play: the molecular biology of dioecious plants. Ann. Bot. 86:211–221.

Doyle and Luckow, 2003. The rest of the iceberg. Legume diversity and evolution in a phylogenetic context. Plant Physiology 131:900–910.

Specht and Bartlett, 2009. Flower evolution: the origin and subsequent diversification of the angiosperm flower. Ann. Rev. Ecol. Evol. Syst. 40:217–243.

Friday puzzle solved – better late than never!

I spent yesterday flying from Seattle to Buffalo and didn’t get a chance to post the answer to the puzzle on Friday.  This was an easy one for our readers – the shrub is (was?) a mesquite, and the bushy growth in the photograph is mistletoe (as identified by Bob and seconded by Ginny and Jimbo). 

I am pretty sure this mesquite was dead, as it had been a wet spring and everything was leafing out.  That being said, I didn’t cut into the bark to find out.  If it is dead, that does raise the fascinating question of how the mistletoe can extract water from a dead shrub.  So it’s likely that the mesquite is just slow to leaf out.

This (and other) mistletoes provide food for native birds, and as Jimbo points out they are the perfect dispersal mechanism for the sticky seeds.  There’s a great video of this behavior in the "Secret Life of Plants" by David Attenborough – if you haven’t seen this series, you should.  Amazing.

Thanks, all, for playing – and Peter, your last comment was perfect!