The Washington Post - 05.09.2019

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the washington post


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thursday, september

5
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2019

smothered with other plants.
One place to put them where
they will be noticed, Long says,
is between shrubs. She also has
them in grassy areas, but Heath
cautions against placing them in
a lawn that gets fertilized and
watered to any measure. These
crocuses are perfect in slopes
with low-growing ground covers
such as mondo grass.
Mice and squirrels love newly
planted crocus bulbs, so plant
deeply, and when they flower,
you’ll have to worry about deer
browsing.
If you have deer, go with
colchicums, which are similar
but not related to crocus, even
though they are sometimes
misnamed fall crocus. They’re
larger, and the leaves, when they
appear in the spring, are far
more conspicuous than those of
crocus. Colchicums are more
expensive than autumn crocus
but cheaper than a deer fence.
If you have not yet tried
species and species-type tulips,
now is your chance. They are
reliably perennial in sunny, open
sites and are shorter, daintier,
earlier and generally more
interesting than their big
brothers and sisters. They open
fully on sunny days in March to
reveal inner petal markings,
often with contrasting eyes. It’s a
whole different tulip experience.
Little Beauty is one of my
favorites, a magenta red opening
to reveal a blue eye.
Colorblends, which specializes
in designed mixtures, sells mixes
of species-type tulips in a blend
named Aladdin’s Carpet (this
includes a variety of daffodil and
three of grape hyacinth),
Wildfyre, a duet in red and
orange, and Votive Motif, a
collection of delicate, candy
striped clusiana varieties.
Shipping begins in late
September, Curless said. (The
minimum order is $60.)
Ordering and thinking about
where to plant these treasures is
the best way I know of getting
past the grip of summer and
thinking about the superior
seasons.
[email protected]
@adrian_higgins on Twitter

 Also at washingtonpost.com
Read past columns by Higgins at
washingtonpost.com/home.

most famous of these is Crocus
sativus , whose elongated
stigmas of burnished orange
give us saffron, but others
abound.
Heath, of Brent and Becky’s
Bulbs, offers a dozen types of
autumn crocus, but he
particularly likes Crocus
laevigatus Fontenayi, which has
purple striped petals that open
to reveal a pale center. These
crocuses begin to grow and
bloom once soil temperatures
descend into the 50s. The latest
bloomer is Crocus medius , which
in Heath’s Gloucester, Va.,
garden appears in November
and December, shrugs off light
frosts, and brings an extended
display. The bright orange
stigmas are surrounded by
petals of deep violet. As with all
perennial bulbs, their first
flowering season is not
representative of when they will
flower in future years. Once they
have settled in, they usually
show up earlier.
As gardens become more
naturalistic and gardeners are (I
hope) not cutting back fading
herbaceous material, it does
little good to have fall crocuses

the green” — that is, in leaf after
flowering. I might do this if I
paid $70 for a choice variety, but
for common or garden types,
this is overkill. As long as you get
the little bulbs in the ground
with haste, they will appear this
winter.
The giant snowdrop appears
for me in late January, and the
common snowdrop comes about
three or four weeks later. Named
varieties can draw you into the
realm of high-priced beauties,
but the lowly species and their
old varieties do the trick of
lifting the spirit and are perfect
for bringing life to the winter
display.
But enough about winter,
because the best season is just
ahead of us. I would urge people
to become acquainted with the
autumn flowering crocus, which
is similar in form and color to
the early spring version but
appears in late October, when
the perennial garden is soft and
full of the texture and
unexpected beauty of decline.
The crocuses are a reminder
that nothing about a cherished
garden is moribund; it’s just that
everything has its cycle. The

and other beauties that bridge
the shift from winter to spring.
Beyond its vernal beauty, such a
carpet is a product of decades of
unmolested increase, aided by
the insects that spread the seeds.
If you are up for a challenge,
order winter aconite bulbs, soak
them and plant them with
dispatch. If only half of them
come up this winter, you’re on
your way to establishing a
colony. If you want more
certainty, choose other bulbs.
There is one other way winter
aconites, or eranthis, differ from
other bulbs. They like shade and
need enriched, moisture-
retentive soil even as they shrink
back into the ground in spring.
Virtually everything else, from
daffodils to crocuses, does best
in free-draining soil, requiring
dryness in summer dormancy. A
dry, sunny slope is ideal for most
bulbs. Irrigation systems and
perennial bulbs don’t get along.
The obvious companion to
winter aconites is the snowdrop.
As with winter aconites,
snowdrops have a reputation for
being difficult, and the
conventional wisdom is that
they should only be moved “in

When I’m
standing outdoors
in the depths of
winter, I try to
imagine what it’s
like now, at the
end of an
oppressively hot,
steamy and
unrelenting D.C.
summer. This
isn’t to get the blood flowing in
January — it’s a way of enduring
the cold and reminding myself
how much more bearable it is
than the heat.
What do I do now? I’m
projecting forward to February,
when the first signs are there of
winter loosening its grip. One of
the most conspicuous heralds is
a bonny buttercup named the
winter aconite. Its yellow flower
is borne just above a radiating
necklace of green leaves. By the
time it is finished a month later,
this ruffed chalice is elevated a
few inches above the soil. It may
dwell amid a layer of snow,
which heightens the paradox of
something so delicate being so
tough.
I’m thinking of the winter
aconite not merely as a device to
cool the summer-sizzled mind,
but because we are on the
threshold of bulb-ordering
season. Some of the specialty
bulbs need to be in hand soon
and in the garden soon after,
because they tend to be less
robust out of the ground than
daffodil bulbs.
The winter aconite is one of
the fussiest bulbs in dormancy,
perhaps because it’s not a bulb
but a tuber and therefore less
able to endure prolonged
dormant storage. The advice is
to order them now for speedy
shipment and then soak them
overnight before planting.
Christian Curless,
horticulturist with online bulb
merchant Colorblends, says he
hasn’t had problems with fall-
planted tubers failing to grow.
Still, bulb guru Brent Heath says,
“it’s best to soak them overnight
before planting.”
Carol Long, curator of garden
at Winterthur Museum, Garden
& Library near Wilmington, Del.,
says she prefers to expand the
display by transplanting winter
aconites in growth or by sowing
seed. (Sounds like a greenhouse
job.) They bloom three years
after germination. These
approaches require you to have a
colony already, or at least friends
with winter aconites to share.
Long oversees March Bank,
the deciduous woodland at
Winterthur famous for its
succession of established
colonies of winter aconite,
snowdrops, Italian windflowers


As summer approaches its end, plan (and plant) for late winter


Adrian


Higgins


GARDENING


Home


Tip of the Week
September and October are the
months for sowing cool-season
grass seed on prepared seed beds.
Germination can take three weeks
— sooner in the warmer soils of
September.
— Adrian Higgins

PHOTOS FROM COLORBLENDS.COM
Species tulips and their varieties are low growing, early to appear and reliably perennial. Aladdin’s
Carpet from Colorblend is a mixture that also includes daffodils and grape hyacinths.

Winter aconites, or eranthis,
like shade and need enriched,
moisture-retentive soil.

Shogun is a wild-type tulip with
red-flecked, pumpkin colored
petals.

Snowdrop bulbs are perishable
and should be ordered and
planted soon for winter show.
Free download pdf