"Pay attention to the world." -- Susan Sontag
 

Red and Yellow Daylilies

From “Daylilies” in Gather Ye Wild Things: A Forager’s Year by Susan Tyler Hitchcock:

“The sun approaches its zenith. Hot rays coax daylilies abloom….

“[Blossoms] slowly explode for a single day of bliss, then fold forever. A summer day sees the daylily open, rejoice in the sunshine, share its pollen with the insects, sense the day’s end, and close. The same abundance of activity fills a daylily’s yearly cycle.

“Even in the deep of winter, a cluster of nubby tubers multiplies underground. Small nut-shaped root parts, each with plant potential, spread from the growing center. The wild daylily never reproduces by seed. But to see the abundance of summer blossoms, one knows that the tubers have been active year round. Bright sprigs of foliage appear early, some of the first green to sprout in fields and streamsides. By late spring flower stalks have shot straight up, three or four feet high. Tender buds emerge, often twelve to a stalk; they blossom one by one, one a day. Spent blooms wither and fade and finally fall away. Stalks recede; tubers take over for another winter of underground hibernation.”

From “Daylilies” in Coming to Treeline: Adirondack Poems by Pamela Cranston:

Clusters of daylilies
float like green islands
on the broad sea
of our scrubby front lawn —
like barges filled with flocks
of swaying golden swans.

Each morning, these tangles
of yellow trumpets lift
the shafts of their long throats
and blow their brassy horns….

Come evening, they twist
their mouths shut, tight
as a dancer’s pirouette,
and sink into silence….


Hello!

Switching from my garden back to Oakland Cemetery’s botanical treasures once again, here is a series of photos of one of their most stunning daylily collections.

I first discovered these a couple of years ago — in a section of the cemetery where there are few flowering plants — and I first photographed them in 2022 (see Summer Daylilies (1 of 3): Burgundy and Yellow). I suppose I’m quibbling with myself in describing their color once as burgundy and now as red; but having two years more experience in flower photography, I think these renderings more accurately represent the actual colors of the flowers. Red and burgundy are of course close relatives; and many of the flower petals in this series could be described as shades of burgundy, even if red dominates according to my eyes.

I chose the two quotations above for this post because the book excerpt and the poem describe one of the daylily’s unique features, as they are known for producing flowers that last only one day. Their scientific name Hemerocallis comes from combining Greek words for “day” and “beauty” (sometimes more loosely cast as “beauty for a day”) — so even their name reflects the way they operate. I’m sure you’re wondering how and why they do what they do. I was too!

With the help of my imaginary assistant ClaudeAI and a book called Botany: Principles and Applications by Roy H. Saigo, I learned that daylilies are strategic. They’ve evolved a complex pollination strategy whereby they produce clusters of individual flower buds on each stalk, then — instead of opening them all at once — typically open one, two, or just a few a day for successive days, until they run out of flowers.

This one-day flowering can enable several weeks of pollination opportunities for your average daylily, and it’s a complex chemical and biological process covered by the botanical term senescence. Plant senescence generally refers the the aging process of whole plants (including longer term aging like autumn color changes), and flower senescence separately explains the aging process of flower blossoms. While the one-day flower senescence is not necessarily specific to just daylilies, daylilies may be the only one for which it’s a defining characteristic of the plant.

My own Witch’s Hand Daylilies — which consisted of two plants in a large pot — never opened more than two flowers on any day. Though The Photographer might have preferred a nice half-dozen bunch that looked like flowers in a vase, it was not up to him — though he did appreciate the fact that the blooming went on for about three weeks, as, presumably did many bug, bee, and butterfly pollinators. Daylilies like those I photographed at Oakland Cemetery’s gardens did the same thing: these photos are from two separate trips, about a week apart, and in any of them you can see that the plant will have many more days of blooming and pollination offerings, given how many unopened buds there were when I snapped the pictures.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!











White and Purple Irises

From “Dalmatica and English Nurserymen” in Classic Irises and the Men and Women Who Created Them by Clarence Mahan:

[Peter] Barr and his sons Peter Rudolph and William were leading breeders of irises. Beginning with the introduction of a reddish-violet iris named Garibaldi in 1873, the Barrs produced scores of new irises. These Barr irises were highly regarded in their day. Mention has already been made of the Pallida Dalmatica look-alike Princess Beatrice. A few of the other popular Barr varieties were brownish-yellow Bronze Beauty, light blue-violet Alice Barr, blue-violet Khedive, and yellow and red-violet ‘Robert Burns’….

“One of Peter Barr’s lasting contributions to the world of garden irises was the gift of a special vocabulary. Garden writer and iris hybridizer Sydney B. Mitchell explained how this came about in his book
Iris for Every Garden:

“‘About 1873 Barr issued a descriptive list of his extensive collection [of irises], arranging the varieties in groups: aphylla (including forms of germanica), amoena (white standards and purple falls), neglecta (lavender standards and dark falls), pallida (lavender, light and dark blue, and rosy-toned purple selfs), squalens (forms with blended, often rather dull, combinations of smoky blue and gray or yellow and red), and variegata (clear yellow standards and falls either veined a dark red or nearly solid ox-blood color). Barr’s classification was adopted and continued in English and American lists into the nineteen-twenties. Even to this day such terms as ‘amoena’ and ‘variegata’ are applied to modern hybrids of these old color patterns.’

“The terms ‘amoena,’ ‘neglecta,’ and ‘variegata’ continue to be used by those who write and talk about irises in the 21st century. These words refer to the color patterns described by Barr and form an enduring element of iris argot. It is, after all, easier to say than an iris cultivar is a ‘neglecta’ than to say that it is a ‘violet or purple iris with standards that are lighter in color than its falls.”


Hello!

This is the last of my iris posts for 2024 — unless I come across some of the very late bloomers, like the Leopard Lily (Iris domestica), which I can often find in July. The galleries below show those I photographed with white or nearly white standards and contrasting shades of purple in their falls. Toward the middle, you will also see some that have a thin white border around the edges of the purple petals, providing an extra touch of pizazz.

Separate from any scientific or botanical names, descriptions of iris color schemes have their own names — such as amoena and neglecta — which are explained in the quotation at the top of the post. The term “amoena” refers to an iris with white standards and colored (in this case, purple) falls, and “neglecta” is more ambiguously used to describe an iris where the standards and falls show distinct variations (light and dark, typically) of the same color, such as blue, purple, or violet. If you would like to read about some of the other terms used to describe iris colors, see (with pictures!) Iris Flower Patterns from the National Gardening Association.

While I’d heard some of these terms before, I don’t think I realized that they were an important part of understanding iris colors and talking or writing about them. Perhaps they fill the gap I’ve run into frequently, that it’s quite difficult to identify individual iris variants when you come across them in a garden or from photographs (unless you bought them at a garden center and kept their “my name is” tag). Assuming I photograph them again next year (and hunt down some new ones), I think I may try to separate them by these “official” color categories, just for the sake of learning how to apply them to my discoveries.

Thanks for taking a look!















Gold Standards and Purple Falls

From “Iris” in The English Flower Garden by William Robinson:

“The Iris is one of the oldest of our garden flowers, in many forms too, but… it has come to us in greater novelty and beauty in recent years….

“The old Irises of our gardens are usually of the Germanica class; there is much variety among these groups, and they are very hardy and precious, and excellent for the adornment of gardens and even walls and thatched roofs, as we see in France, the Iris of this great group having a valuable power of thriving on such surfaces as well as on good soil.

“There is a group of waterside and water-loving Iris, much less seen in our gardens than the above, and some of them not yet come to us, but of great value. They are allied to the common yellow Iris of our watercourses, but are taller and richer in colour, the golden Iris (aurea), Monnieri, and ochroleuca being the best known so far, and very free, hardy, and beautiful plants they are, thriving, too, almost anywhere, but best in rich, moist soil….

“Then there are the brilliant purple and gold Iris reticulata and its allies, little bulbous Irises, for the spring garden, early and charming things, many beautiful; Irises that flower in winter and early spring, like the Algerian Iris; others happy in Britain on warm soils and warm corners, and some for the rock garden, like the crested Iris; and the many pretty forms of Iris pumila, of some of which edgings were made in old gardens….”

From “Variegata” in A Guide to Bearded Irises: Cultivating the Rainbow for Beginners and Enthusiasts by Kelly Norris:

“Variegata: An iris with yellow or near-yellow standards and darker falls of brown, red, or purple…

“Named for Iris variegata, this distinctive bicolor pattern is well represented in all six classes. In tall beardeds, cultivars include โ€˜Jurassic Parkโ€™ (Lauer 1995), โ€˜Mineโ€™ (Headrick 2004), โ€˜Kathy Chiltonโ€™ (Kerr 2006), and โ€˜Born to Pleaseโ€™ (Rogers 2006)….

“The original pattern of yellow and brown still colors many irises in the MTB class but has probably tired just as many gardeners because of its limitations. I mean really, how many ways can you do yellow-brown-red in variation before it becomes a little trite? But jaded eyes aside, the variegata pattern makes great art in the landscape. The pattern plays off the familiar colors of yellow and purple in other plants, while jazzing up the color display more than something white or pink might.”


Hello!

The irises in this series have some similarities to those I posted previously as Brown Iris Mix — but I separated these out because they have a more distinct variations between the colors of the standards and the falls. Shades of gold and yellow-gold (rather than brown) dominate the standards, with purple tones filling the falls. Admittedly the distinction is a little ambiguous, but you may also see more stippling through these flower petals, suggesting that they are different variants than those in the earlier batch. There is a reasonably good chance that some or all these irises would be correctly identified as Iris variegata L. — often referred to as a “Hungarian Iris” in some parts of the world — but (as we sometimes say here) nobody knows for sure….

๐Ÿ™‚

Until I found the first quotation about irises that I posted above, I was unaware of the practice in France of growing irises on rooftops. If you would like to see some examples — which may also include other European countries where irises are grown up high — click here. And if you’d like to see some additional irises in color schemes like those I photographed, they are Jurassic Park, Mine, Kathy Chilton, and Born to Please, from the second quotation above.

Thanks for taking a look!