There are three natives in this yard that develop good-sized seed collections, which start getting distributed in July: twinleaf, trillium, and false Solomon’s seal. These plants did very well setting fruit this spring, but the nonnative Solomon’s seals, which seem to like similar habitats, did not.
Twinleaf seedpods are very silly—eventually they split open at that manic smile of a seam, ready to dribble seeds nearby.
A twinleaf seedpod open and ready to let the seeds loose. Photographed on June 3, 2024.
Like all spring ephemera, twinleaf lives the expression carpe diem—seize the day. It takes about a month from groundbreaking to seed-setting. They erupt from faintly greenish pods, with flower buds wrapped protectively in reddish purple leaves.
Twinleaf plants freshly erupted from their pods. Photographed on March 13, 2024.
We are roughly two weeks behind where we were last year, based on last year’s photographs. Everything I mention in this post was in bloom at this time last year. The weather changes so much from year to year that I cannot tell you which year is closer to normal—or if there is a normal any more.
Weather aside, I love spring ephemera and will search for them doggedly from mid-March on as long as it’s not pouring rain. They are mostly very small, so I have to actually walk away from the window, go outside, and exercise my eyes looking for changes. Changes are rapid, so there is plenty of incentive to go outside frequently.
Dutchman’s breeches, left, and twinleaf , right, erupt from the ground with flower buds. Photographed on April 3, 2022.
Why on earth would I be writing about transplanting in the middle of the dog days of summer? This is not the ideal time to move plants, unless they are irises, but it is the time to note what needs adjusting in the fall. I moved these plants in mid-June. It couldn’t wait any longer, but ideally you want to move plants while they are dormant, preferably in the spring or fall when temperatures are more moderate, and especially when there is a promise of rain—my favorite time to rearrange plants is the day (or morning) before rain is expected. Continue reading “Three Quick Transplant Stories”
It’s been just over a month since I spotted this year’s twinleaf. It probably came up a couple of days before I captured it.
Twinleaf unfurling. Photographed on March 30, 2021.
Within a week, it was blooming!
Twinleaf in bloom. Photographed on April 4, 2021.
The flowers do not last long.
Twinleaf that has lost all its petals. Photographed on April 9, 2021.
These nascent seedpods will spend the next month or so maturing. Meanwhile, last year’s seeds have sprouted and the baby twinleaf plants are peeking out from under their parents’ leaves.
Twinleaf seedlings in the shade of their parents. Photographed on April 17, 2021.
For now, we are in the only sober and serious phase this plant has: growing those seeds. If you look carefully, the swelling seedpods are hiding in the foliage.
A ripening twinleaf seedpod, hidden from easy viewing. Photographed on May 6, 2021.
Twinleaf just delights me, and this spring I caught them just as they broke dormancy. Like many other early spring flowers, the flower comes first, and leaves follow as the plants emerge from their capsules. Clearly, flowers are their first priority.
A wiggly row of twinleaf just breaking dormancy. Photographed on April 5, 2019.
I mentioned that I thought it was rather dry in my previous post. I was quite surprised when I checked the weather Monday night and discovered a weather alert—a red flag warning. I have several cities listed in my weather app, so I thought I must have somehow switched to Arizona. No! Not Arizona—it was my hometown, as well as the rest of southeastern Michigan. Due to high winds, extremely low humidity, and high temperatures, there was a serious risk of fire starting and then spreading very easily. A red flag warning means no outdoor burning.
I watered the hostas that I had rescued and replanted when I removed the Scilla bifolia ‘Rosea.’
Meanwhile, my magnolia has bloomed. The house, partially in deep shade in this photograph, was such a distraction that I photoshopped it into a uniform blur. These flowers really were dancing in the sun.
Magnolia stellata ‘Leonard Messel.’ Photographed on May 1, 2018. The background was photoshopped since most of the house was in deep shade.
We’ve had a very chilly April. While I have not heard anyone mention Alberta clippers lately, I see that the winds still seem to be sweeping down and over through western Canada. I wrote about what I hoped was the final April snow on April 10, which would have been roughly average. We had more snow on April 17, and a week in there somewhere with daily flurries. It’s only 43°F right now, and it’s late morning. The garden is moving slowly, but despite the temperature and some very hungry rabbits, there are flowers blooming. Continue reading “Four Plants, Three Weeks: Budbreak to Bloom”