Native from Virginia to the Florida panhandle and west to Mississippi, Uniola paniculta is one of the most effective sand-binding grasses and thus vital to dune formation and stabilization. Plus, it makes our South Carolina beaches beautiful!
While I was in New York’s Hudson River Valley, a couple of exciting things happened here at home.
In the category of flora, the first spike of cranefly orchid (Tipularia discolor) came into bloom. The species epithet–discolor–is Latin, meaning “two colors,” and refers to the wintergreen, summer-deciduous foliage. A single leaf, green on top and magenta purple underneath, arises from a small corm in autumn. Foliage wanes in late spring and by the time the flower spike begins to appear in July, the leaf is long gone.
A native perennial, the orchid is common in neighboring gardens but was absent from my woodland, probably because of the rampant English ivy (now removed). Lucky for me, a friend gave me a generous clump containing many corms from her nearby farm.
Individual purplish-green flowers are about one-half inch wide. Sepals and petals are narrow, as is the lip, which narrows into a crook at its tip. The column is bright green. A long spur, which accounts for the common name, extends from the back of the bloom.
According to Tim Spira (Clemson University), the flowers are pollinated by night-flying moths. In his book, Wildflowers & Plant Communities, Tim notes, “As a moth inserts its head into the flower to obtain nectar, a pollinium (a tiny ball of pollen) is attached to the moth’s eye and may inadvertently be deposited on the stigma of another flower. Amazingly, the deposition of pollinia on insect eyes is a common mode of pollen transfer in temperate orchids.”
In the category of fauna, my husband discovered a black snake coiled on a gutter of our front porch on Monday morning.
Although the photos aren’t well focused, you can clearly distinguish its dark form, with head down, taking stock of the situation. From the rear view, a faint diamond pattern can be detected across its midsection, while its darker tail loops downward. From the size of the hump in its midsection, the snake may have been resting after a meal. If so, I hope its breakfast was a chipmunk!
Although I don’t like to get too close, black snakes are welcome here because they’re not aggressive and are reputed to keep the venomous copperheads at bay. This one is an old friend. When I photographed it in April 2013, it was sitting pretty in an azalea in the woodland garden.
Summer is flying by. I can hardly believe it’s been more than a month since I returned from Italy, but this year’s initial tour still lives large in my mind. Before I turn the page to the next adventure, here’s a quick look back at a superb trip.
The tour included visits to seven stunning gardens…
Plus, these hightlights…
To see more photos of Italy, click here to visit my Flickr page.
Tomorrow, I’ll be up before dawn to begin Chapter Two, touring the Hudson River Valley with more than 30 enthusiastic gardeners from South Carolina, North Carolina, and Michigan.
If you plan to visit either of these destinations in the future, feel free to make a copy of the Hortitopia itinerary for reference. Just look here.
I’m a big fan of Wordless Wednesday, but feel you deserve more this week since a horrendous summer cold coupled with pressing work deadlines have curtailed my blogging.
So, here is the photo I planned to post without explanation…but with its backstory.
Mr. Snail, a resident of Highlands, North Carolina, was discovered last Friday on an early-morning prowl. When examining the photo later, I was fascinated by the detail captured by the camera that’s not seen by the eye. And though I’m certainly no expert, this one looks very much like the type that is served as escargot.
I was in Highlands, on a high plateau of the Southern Appalachian Mountains (4,118-feet elevation), for the annual garden tour of Mountains in Bloom, an event which also features a flower show, speaker program, and luncheon. Known for its cool summers (averaging 78 F in July) and abundant rainfall (100 inches annually), the Highlands community is a summer mecca for those who live in much hotter areas of our region, such as Atlanta.
This year’s tour featured four homes and gardens. Since the homes were also open this year, I believe there was less of an emphasis on the gardens. But all were enjoyable and one garden, in particular, caught my fancy. Built in 2009, the brochure noted the homeowners assisted in the garden’s design, which showcases a stream and pond crossed by a rustic bridge on sloping terrain.
I was also awed by the home’s back porch. I have porches on my mind these days, since I’m hoping to add a new one to my own house soon. What do you think of this one?
Although the design, with a bump out at either end, wouldn’t suit my home, it provides food for thought. And just look at this view!
Over the holiday weekend I traveled to southeastern Virginia to visit family and was struck by the number of cotton fields in the area I once called home, including the one below that belongs to my step-father and mother and is rented to a large-scale farmer who now rotates several crops. When I grew up here in the 1970s, the primary crop cultivated in this region was peanuts.
Cotton is tropical in origin but is most successfully cultivated in temperate climates with adequate rainfall. The plant belongs to the genus Gossypium of the family Malvaceae (mallow); the same family as hollyhock, okra, and hibiscus. Nearly all commercial cotton grown in the U.S. is G. hirsutum, which is used to produce both fiber and oil.
Grown from seeds that germinate in 5 to 10 days, the plant puts tremendous energy into establishing a tap root that grows to 10-inches deep in just a couple weeks. The flower bud that first appears on the plant is called a “square,” though it is enclosed by three bracts. The photo below shows a pair of squares on the shrub-like plant which will eventually produce 12 to 16 fruiting branches.
Since I’ve never examined young cotton closely, I was interested to see the newly-formed flower buds that will open within three weeks.
As opportunity arises through the summer, I’ll show you how the cotton progresses.