Sweet Supertunia

For years I've dissed Petunia. Sure she's pretty in a show-offy, teen age prom queen kind of way, but she doesn't age well. Without daily deadheading, Petunia fades fast. I've never used her in my own gardens or my clients' gardens, and I've tried to dissuade students from planting her, stressing her high maintenance nature.

This year, the folks at Proven Winners sent me three pots of Supertunias. (I think this is where I'm supposed to say that I received the plants as free samples and that no money was exchanged for what I'm about to say. Is that right?) I was skeptical, but the saturated, fruity color of Supertunia Watermelon Charm was more than I could resist, so I added them to a client's garden overlooking Central Park West.

(This will be a riot of color when the hardy hibiscus bloom and the mandevilla vines climb.)

In four of the coolest, wettest weeks I can remember as a gardener, each plant has tripled in size. But here's the clincher: they are not leggy and the spent blooms pretty much fade away into nothingness. Can you see a dead flower here?

How about now?

These images were taken prior to deadheading.

My main Petunia objection has always been the way the dead flowers linger on the plant accusingly, asking (with considerable attitude) why I haven't been more conscientious in my maintenance work. (Do I need that kind of pressure from a Petunia?) I try to visit this particular client once a week, but sometimes it's 10 days between maintenance calls, and I need to know that the plants I use won't look shaggy and neglected after an extra day or two.

Yes, the Supertunia flowers are smaller than straight Petunia flowers and yes, this is undoubtedly one of the reasons the spent blooms are less obvious. Is that a problem? Hardly. The rich color and abundance of bloom more than compensate for the somewhat smaller flower size.

We'll see how they fare as we head into summer. At this point I'm highly optimistic and ready to take back all those nasty things I said about the prom queen.

NEW IN MY NEW YORK CITY GARDEN

I've been picking a crop of lettuce that self-seeded when I failed to rip out the tired plants July 2011. The lettuce went to seed, germinated and produced small leaves by Sept., then wintered over. It's a special treat to have free salads now.

A River Birch has just turned its fall color, beautiful in October, but in June. One of my hydrangeas was also crying out "LN, LN". Investigation showed that the tap to the automatic drip system had been shut off by person or persons unknown. The tap now has full body armor and the birch has started to drop all of it's leaves. I'm hoping it will re-leaf to get it through the rest of the summer.
One of my three Montauk daisies, usually the last perennial to bloom in my garden each October, is bursting into full bloom. It probably thinks that the pathetic season we went through in January and February was spring. After it finishes blooming I'll cut it back and hope for re-bloom in fall. Something strange is also happening in my boxes of annuals. Yes I knew my Calabrachoa had over-wintered for the first time in history, but now strange leaves are appearing both here and in the base of the flowering plum trees. My best guess is that a stealth gardener has planted pumpkin seeds. I'll leave them alone to see what happens.

@LONGWOOD GARDENS

You've already admired the classic Italian Water Gardens, the playful dancing waters, and the stunning, ever-changing perennial beds. You've garnered ideas from the family gardens,  the veggie plots, the combinations of colorful annuals and the children's garden. It's time for a brief respite in the conservatory.
You no longer have to schlep downstairs to use the rest rooms.
Even if you have no pressing need, find the new east wing to view the living wall, no more comforting, accessible way to use the facilities. The wall is beautifully maintained, as you would expect of the Longwood  gardeners, but there are one or two places that you can peek at the structure. Unlike your living room, the wall has drainage grates beneath the plants to catch and recycle runoff. Two visitors were so enthralled with the views in the conservatory that they decided to spend their vacation there.

Longwood Gardens, Kennett Square PA

RING-AROUND-A-REDBUD

What could they be?
Rings of pink puff balls 'round a neighborhood tree.

Doorman says they grew after pruning.
Could be from multiple trunk wounding?

Never saw such a sight in my life.
Moral: think twice before you go under the knife.

HERITAGE ROSE DISTRICT, MANHATTAN

Stephen Scanniello, Pres. Heritage Rose Foundation with Rosa 'Harison's Yellow'

Just when I think I'm getting to know the gardens and plantings in New York City, I stumble upon surprises. A visit to the Historic Rose District last week introduced me to a massive undertaking by the Heritage Rose Foundation in Upper Manhattan where Harlem meets Washington Heights. Here in Trinity Church (Wall Street) Cemetery, Audubon Terrace, community gardens, and median strips, dedicated members of the Foundation from all over the U.S. are coming to plant and preserve old roses, all on a shoestring budget of donations and volunteers.

Rosa 'Parson's Pink China'

The Foundation defines heritage roses as Pre-1930 hybrids, varieties and species; members have scoured old homesteads, cemeteries and roadsides to make cuttings of roses which might disappear forever if not preserved. By their very nature, having existed for decades without spraying, fertilizing, or watering, heritage roses are highly suited for gardeners who care about sustainability.
When I visited it was planting day and dozens of rooted rose cuttings were scheduled to be dug in at the Church of the Intercession and other select spots. Within three years they'll be showing off fragrance and blooms, spilling over old stones and fences.

Not only roses, but donated bulbs, shrubs and perennials are added to compliment the roses

Why here in this spot in Upper Manhattan? It happens that rose breeder George Folliott Harison, he of 'Harison's Yellow' fame is buried in the Trinity Church Cemetery which surrounds the Church of the Intercession, and when these modern-day rose missionaries went to plant one of his namesake roses by his grave, it seems as if they just couldn't stop. Many well-know names appear on other headstones here, like family of John Jacob Astor, Clement Clarke Moore, Charles Dicken's son, J.J. Audubon, and Ralph Elison.
Just across Broadway from the Church is the massive Audubon Terrace, former site of Audubon estate, now housing the American Academy of Arts and Letters, The Hispanic Society of American with its free museum and library, and Boricua College.

Entrance to Audubon Terrace

This complex of eight Beaux Arts buildings is on the National Register of Historic sites. Volunteers from the Heritage rose Foundation have placed large containers around the massive brick courtyard and are of course, planting roses.
Coming soon, a historic walking tour app for your smart phone, created by a H.S. student, Jacob Graff from Dallas TX .
GO! to learn more visit...

terrific tree pits!

Tree pits are the quintessential NYC garden. Small, public, subject to regular abuse, and possessing the potential to delight or disgust. (We are, after all, a city of extremes.)

Next Tuesday (from 10 am - 1 pm) I'll be teaching a class called Terrific Tree Pits at the Manhattan campus of the NYBG at 20 W 44th Street. If you're interested in learning the do-s

(Ellen Spector Platt, both gardener & photographer)

and don't-s

of how to plant a tree pit, why don't you join me?

MY DOWNFALL

In the easy and efficient Burpee Greenhouse Kit I planted seeds of Mexican sunflower (Tithonia) and Moon flower vine, imagining how stunning they would be in my roof garden. Splashes of brilliant orange in 15 containers, huge white flowers unfurling at dusk and climbing up the fences.

Using the little peat pellets included in the kit as my growing medium and adding liquid organic fertilizer at half strength after 2 pairs of real leaves appeared, the seedlings flourished.

Although I had warned gardening clients and friends not to be fooled by our Mid-march summer, I had the nerve, the gall, the chutzpah, to think I would be immune. So I put the tray on the roof, in a 'protected' location to harden off for transplanting. That was one and a half weeks ago. The garden gods punished my hubris, not with frost but 39 degree weather and strong winds.
Now I have this... back inside and trying to survive. Instead of 36 strong and healthy plants, I my be able to salvage five puny ones.
Have I learned my lesson? I'm ashamed to say, probably not.