July is Roscoea month. Despite our heat – and cold winters – we can grow some of these remarkable eastern Asian hardy gingers in southern Michigan, with some care.

First off, hardiness – many are just casually said to be “Zone 5” in nurseries. Sounds good but, of course, a lot depends on planting depth, site, and snow cover. During our terrible “polar vortex” some years back, I lost a number of plants, and started planting deeper – they don’t seem to mind being at a depth of 8-10 inches or even more for larger species. They also seem to be heavy feeders, so I dig out the planting spot and put a rich mix at that depth. I suspect a cool root run helps, and so I also overplant with lower things that they can come through. You have to be careful as they are “late risers,” and it’s easy to forget they are there. But now I’m waiting for the next “test winter.”

I’ve seen growing conditions for them described as “woodland – or even seen them described as shade plants” and that’s problematic. My suggestion for our area is light shade, with especially morning or later afternoon sun. This keeps them cooler, which they like. They won’t bloom or grow well in too much shade, but definitely don’t like blazing hot sun either, nor dry soils.

So what ones are best for us – I should say me, and not generalize? Well, starting with the hardies and easiest, Roscoea scillifolia. This is small, not ugly, just, well, unassuming species, and seems very hardy, never winterkilling and even self-sowing gently. It is a bit floppy, and has small, flesh-pink flowers. There is a very cute purple-black flowered form, that has to be planted where you can admire it close-up.

Also quite hardy, and probably the best species for our area is the hybrid Roscoea ×beesiana. There are a range of color forms of this hybrid between the yellow (usually) Roscoea cautleoides and the purple Roscoea auriculata. This seems to tolerate a tad more heat and sun, and blooms well. Some forms are a lovely pale yellow, others are yellow, but with purple streaking.

Roscoea ×beesiana

Both the parents of Roscoea ×beesiana are also relatively hardy species for us. Roscoea cautleoides is a lovely Chinese species, medium sized, usually yellow flowered, growing at higher elevations (to 3500 m) in Sichuan and Yunnan, and also performing well in southern Michigan. Roscoea auriculata is also higher elevation, but from the Himalayas, and was also a species where some plants made it through the “polar vortex” It’s a bigger species with purple flowers. both are worth planting deep and trying.

My favorite, and a true alpine, is Roscoea tibetica. This is a small plant, rather orchid like in appearance, and flowering at only a few cm tall, with broad leaves close to the ground, and (in my favorite form) delicate white flowers. It grows at high elevations, extending from open forests and shrub lands to alpine meadows up to 3800 m. This also does not seem (so far) to need deep planting, and also self-sows a bit. You can see self-sown seedling in the photo to the right.

A couple other, bigger species I’m still experimenting with still. One is Roscoea humeana. I’ve gotten this before, but so far as I can tell, not correctly named. But it should be hardy, and I’ll find out now that I have the real thing (in a couple genotypes). Also, Himalayan and apparently not as hardy, but a nice big plant is Roscoea purpurea. This species has a striking red form called ‘Red Gurkha’ that is positively amazing. It is the only Roscoea with this color, and a stunning summer bloomer. Hopefully, deep planting allows it to overwinter! — Tony Reznicek

No, not a Mozart composition, but a natural one, with one of the less well known genera of bulbous plants. Sternbergia is in the Amaryllidaceae, like Narcissus and snowdrops, and in fact Sternbergia lutea is sometimes called fall daffodil (though the resemblance escapes me). There only a few species, all from the Mediterranean region of Europe and western Asia, but despite this, all have at least some forms that are hardy in southern Michigan. Though they might get lost among larger bulbs, the flowers have a definite charm, with the delicate translucent venation on the tepals being a particularly special feature.

I was reminded by the blooming of Sternbergia candida this spring of how many Sternbergia I have killed – giving me some insight, in an inverse (or is it perverse) sort of way, on how to grow them.

Although people think of them as fall plants, there are both spring and fall blooming  species, like so many other bulbous genera, and they can look quite alike.  Now, the only one seen commonly is the fall blooming Sternbergia lutea, some clones of which do well in southern Michigan, and some which don’t last at all – or maybe it‘s the gardener, not the winter? It’s a moderately sized flower, and I find I don’t have a good picture – so here is a bad one. Have to remember to take some more this fall.

Another fall blooming species, sometimes “lumped” in with Sternbergia lutea is Sternbergia sicula. If it is part of the overall variation found in Sternbergia lutea, it is still worth getting, as at least the clone I grow is a good performer in southern Michigan. I’ve never had a capsule on these, so either they are self-incompatible and I have only one clone, or whatever pollinates them is absent.

A big disadvantage in our climate is that the leaves of these two fall blooming species come up with or just after the flowers, and are wintergreen. The broad leaves of Sternbergia lutea are somewhat upright and often get damaged in winter. The smaller leaves of my clone of Sternbergia sicula soon lie flat on the ground, and are typically in good shape still in spring. But regardless, the plants don’t seem to be too seriously injured by this leaf damage.

The smallest species of fall blooming Sternbergia is Sternbergia colchiciflora. It has quite small star-shaped flowers and is easy. It does things differently from all others. The plant blooms in early fall (late September typically), but the leaves come up in the spring. Not only that, this always sets capsules, which also come up above ground in the spring. It is surely self-compatible, and maybe even selfing. I’ve even had it sow itself a little. If only it were bigger…

The two spring species are lovely surprises – but can get lost in the blaze of bulbs blooming in late Match or early April – when they flower. One species, Sternbergia vernalis, has yellow flowers and is much like a spring blooming Sternbergia sicula. It is sometime sold as Sternbergia fischeriana.

The other spring bloomer is the most remarkable of all Sternbergia, as it has pure white chalices – Sternbergia candida. This is a rare plant in the wild, native to a small area of Turkey, and the only white Sternbergia.

Both the spring blooming Sternbergia species send up leaves in the spring with the flowers, so the foliage is not damaged by winter. But like the larger fall species, I have never had a capsule, even with efforts to hand pollinate them.

For years, I found all Sternbergia difficult. Assuming they were xeric bulbs, I put then in a lean sandy mix and treated them like desert plants. They rewarded me by slowly (sometimes quickly) dying. After killing a batch of Sternbergia candida raised from Archibald seed, it slowly dawned on me that this species apparently grew at the edges of and in Cedrus libani forests. So switching gears, I put them in richer, heavier soil, and fertilized them. That slowed my rate of killing them considerably.

We can’t control either the weather or the climate in our yards, but we can work to get flowers as early as possible to give a much needed boost after Michigan’s winter.

So what blooms really early — before winter has officially ended — and does anything bloom in the dead of winter?

As I write this, it is late March — just before the main flush of crocuses (though some have started) and other spring bulbs and plants like corydalis, tulips, squills, hellebores, and many others. This is the time for the very earliest bulbs, and a very few other herbaceous plants, though I hasten to add that it is also the season for the winter blooming witch hazels, which, except for showing one below, I won’t mention more — you can’t go wrong with them, and they deserve a write-up all to themselves!

Besides the witch hazels, two plant groups that are out now and can form nice shows even in late winter are, of course, snowdrops, and winter aconites. Snowdrops are just the best! Two main species are grown in this part of the world, the common snowdrop, Galanthus nivalis, in many forms, some weird, and a few only galanthophiles could love and the giant snowdrop, Galanthus elwesii –with fewer forms. Here they are:

How do you tell them apart? Check the flowers below. The common snowdrop has a single green spot near the tip of the inner (tubular) floral parts, while the giant snowdrop has green on both the top and bottom.

There are a few other snowdrops that are occasionally seen — one of the more recognizable ones is Galanthus woronowii, the green snowdrop, with striking broad shiny green leaves. It’s below.

These all will bloom before winter officially ends — and in some years, even in late February.

Now for an additional thing that will bloom (conditions allowing) in the dead of winter, Galanthus elwesii var. monostictus. I wish I had more of this! Below is a picture taken Dec. 24, 2021. A snowfall broke some of the flowers — always a hazard.

The other well known genus that will bloom before winter officially ends. is Eranthis — the winter aconite. Here, almost all the ones grown are Eranthis hyemalis — also the earliest and easiest. It’s a good spreader for most people — sometimes seeding too readily! Almost everything you see is the typical yellow single — quite nice, and needing no introduction.

There are other color forms, as well a doubles, both yellow and green. A nice one is called ‘Moonlight’– a pale moonlight yellow, below right.

Now there are other Eranthis, and in eastern Asia (China, Japan, Korea and adjacent temperate Asia), there are a number of white flowered species. These are spectacular, but seem more difficult that the yellow species. Below is a Japanese hybrid that reasonably promptly forms a little patch. It is a lovely thing.

The hybrid is sterile, sadly, which also means that this does not develop the remarkable blue anthers that these have!

Less well known, and a bit fussy, especially to move and divide, are the Asian Adonis species. Especially the cultivar ‘Fukujukai’ will bloom in February in some seasons. Below is ‘Fukujukai,’ the most adaptable and fastest increaser, I think. The flowers are lovely in the sunshine.

Another one, fussier, but desirable, is the cultivar ‘Chichibu beni.’ In this, the flowers open quite orange, fading a little as they age. They are already now fading. Here are a couple pictures.

A cultivar with interesting floral form is Adonis ‘Beni Nadeshiko’ It is a bit later blooming perhaps.

Why are these so expensive? Well, it is because these fancy cultivars are all sterile, presumably of hybrid origin. So all propagation has to be vegetative. I’ve tried to get the parents, which are interesting, but a little less showy, and have managed to establish only one, which I think is Adonis ramosa (I’m not certain — it may be A. multiflora) It’s below, sets fertile seed, and self sows gently. Nice.

I’d be remiss if I did not mention one other genus, Helleborus. One clone of Helleborus niger, a plant I got years ago from Seneca Hill Perennials as a clone that starts blooming for Thanksgiving, consistently blooms from late fall, through the winter, often peaking in mid-March Now the flowers are fading (which means turning pink). It does not have the largest flowers but as it can bloom in mid winter, that’s pretty nice! So this is the third plant that can bloom for me in Michigan in the dead of winter (the other two being Hamamelis ‘Orange Peel’ and Galanthus elwesii var. monostichus).

Other Helleborus niger are at peak now. Some years (but not this year) Helleborus thibetanus will also bloom before winter is over — I’ve stuck in a photo from last year for fun, of a very nice rich pink. It’s so beautiful, and the leaves have the decency to be deciduous, so you don’t have to choose between cutting them off or looking at ugly, winter damaged leaves!

Well, that’s enough — and just about covers most things that will bloom in winter (or at least just before winter is officially over). But let me just add one more thing that is quite surprising — the largest species of the otherwise rather uninspiring genus Chrysosplenium — Chrysosplenium macrophyllum. When I took the picture, last week, it was not quite in bloom — but the bright pink anthers are just fantastic.

Chrysosplenium macrophyllum

This is the only time in the spring when you can just about cover everything in flower — the floodgates will soon open and we’ll be inundated with bloom!

One last note. All these early bloomers respond to a warmth, so you can have considerable influence on flowering time by siting, either hastening it in a warm site, or delaying it in a cool site. You do have to be a bit careful to not push this too far, however, or plants may burn by coming out too soon.

Just before COVID hit, our chapter had agreed to do a re-build of the Marie Azary Rock garden, It was a small tufa garden, and with a quick redesign by Bob Grese (then Director) with our Chapter advising, we got started. The new plan involved more area, more tufa, more relief, and a design that centered around a dell to maximize microhabitats based on exposure and elevation.

So off we went — and suddenly crashed to a halt when everything shut down with COVID. We just barely got the outline laid out. But last fall, we started up again, started building up the dell, got some more tufa, and things are looking good.

Once we got the outline of the dell started , we started to work on the narrow (S) side, firming up the outline, and building height. The largest pieces of tufa were mostly on top, as they will retain the most water. The soil used was a fairly heavy moisture-retentive loam. Most of the planting will be on the tufa, so a moisture retentive soil will help wick water to the tufa and keep it moist longer.

We needed lots of soil to build up the spine of this lobe of the garden, and lots of helping hands.

Here is the upper part of this lobe. But more soil and more tufa later, we are getting up there.

This truck load of tufa got us to the end of the season.

Below, we can see the high point starting to take shape with more tufa.

Here is a view up the dell, with the highest point in place — just about all we could do last fall

We finished up the ridgeline along the south side, with a small section of tufa crevices, to have more habitat diversity. Should be great for Daphnes.

What’s next? The south section is done, and after settling over the winter, we first need to get the garden weeded. The richer soil will have lots of weed seeds, some perennial and nasty. Then, we will be ready for planting. We’ll keep you posted.

And we will also need to have work days for the north side, after getting yet more tufa.

Come help out — we’ll let you know when things start up.

Assuming there is no snow, I usually always have something out by the end of February — but this February has been unusually floriferousI Here are a few things that were out even last week (Feb. 20-25), or even before

Some standard early plants nobody should be without.

 

A few things that I don’t normally have in bloom quite this early are also striking for being out or almost out already

Even my first spring Cyclamen

 

 

 

 

 

And here are a few things that just about opened that I am worried about…

We’ll see how this goes in March — hopefully no 15 below weather!