Cycads On The Move

One of my favourite bits of Kew is the cycad display. I love to see them in their longtom pots, engraved with "Royal Botanical Gardens, Kew" all round the rim. As lovely as they look in the naturalistically planted beds in the Palm House and Temperate House, you can really appreciate the shape of them in a pot.

So imagine my dismay:


All shut off and the cycads moved down the aisles! Going round to the entrance though I got an explanation:


And then I took the opportunity to sneak a look through the window at Encephalartos altensteinii, the oldest cycad at Kew!


The glass of the palm house is cloudy (steamed up or actually tinted a bit to reduce the glare from the sun?), but you can get an idea of just how much work goes into keeping E. altensteinii upright - they must have been swapping tips with the people who keep the Major Oak going.

Just look at that ironwork!


The reason for the Macbeth-esque movement of plant matter? E. altensteinii was being repotted yesterday. I am never going to complain about having to pot up any of my plants having read what they have to do at Kew!

Wordless Wednesday: Where Is This?

The Covet List #2

I may have to add this one to the List, but it'll probably have to wait until global warming has transformed Isleworth into a tropical rainforest:


I have no idea what the flowers look like - I'm purely after the leaves here. They look like little dinosaur tracks quick-stepping along the wire:


It's Passiflora x violacea, which should be able to deal with -7°C, but probably won't look as good after a British winter as it does in the PoW at Kew.

Stinky Giant Misshapen Penis

I spent the best part of the day at Kew yesterday as their titan arum (Amorphophallus titanum, which means "giant misshapen penis" - I'm not just being rude!) was flowering. Emma went on Saturday, so saw it fully open (and sideways...), but you'll be pleased to know it was still doing its thing, and smelling like stale fish (and a boy from my class in primary school...) when I sprinted into the PoW from the main gate.


Now, a friend told me that when the titan arum opened at the Botanical Gardens in Cambridge a few years ago, they kept the glasshouse open overnight just to deal with the queues of people wanting to see it.


How lonely is that? And that wasn't just a fluke photo - that was what it was like most of the time. I really hope that it was more popular on Saturday. That and a conversation I overheard, where two parents were visiting Kew (and paying full entry price - they weren't members or season ticket holders) purely to take their kids to the adventure playground thing, made me feel sad for the people who work so hard to look after the plants and to educate people about life on Earth. Ultimately we all pay our entrance fee and we can either make the most of it, learn about the plants we share the planet with and come away richer for it, or we can sod off to the café and dump the kids in an adventure playground indoors on a lovely day. But what good is paying that money if you don't appreciate the work of Kew?


I wanted to jump up and down and squeal at these people: "Don't you realise? This is one of the largest inflorescences in the world? It makes this one flower, then it makes one big leaf, and then it repeats! And it smells, see? It absolutely honks of rotten fish and you're just not getting how awesome it is!"

But by that time I'd already yelled at a stupid foreign woman who was trying to flick a water dragon's tail with her visitors' map, so I thought maybe I wouldn't be welcome in the PoW if I carried on talking at other visitors and slunk off to the Temperate House.

Question Time

One of the advantages of having StatCounter installed on the blog is that I get to see what search terms have brought visitors to this site. And a lot of them, unsurprisingly, are questions about plants. So I thought I'd try to answer some of them, although I'm still a bit of a n00b with this whole gardening lark, so please correct me or add further info in the comments.

When does my plant need a bigger pot?
You'll know. Technically it's when you tap it out of the pot to look at the roots and see that there's a dense, visible mass of roots. But palms will lift themselves up out of their pots on their roots. Some plants might slow down in terms of growth. If a plant gets too top-heavy and topples over frequently, you might want to consider a larger pot and shoving some stones in the bottom for ballast.

Can Grevillea juniperina be pot grown?
It certainly can. But see above. As a caveat, mine is pot grown, and forms flowers which never fully open before shrivelling. This may be down to growing it in a pot.


What's eating my Fatsia japonica leaves?
Slugs. Definitely slugs. Little bastards.

Why are my protea leaves going brown and dry?
You probably aren't watering it enough. You may have been told that proteas don't like a lot of water, and as a result you're giving it about as much water as you give your Sempervivum collection. Proteas could actually stand to have more water than that, and if they're in pots just water them at the same time as you water all your other plants.

How do I prune Ensete "Maurelii"?
Why would you want to? No banana is going to look good if you prune it all back. However, if you're just wanting to remove dead leaves, a sharp knife or secateurs will be fine. And for winter storage, a sharp knife horizontally across the stem is best - make sure it's clean to prevent infection.

How do I propagate Blechnum novae zelandiae?
Don't. Throw it in the compost heap or give it to someone you hate, and buy a Cyrtomium falcatum. If you must make more of them, then if it hasn't formed a trunk you can probably divide it in the usual way.


What compost should I use for cycads?
A very well-drained one. Cactus compost is good, or you can make your own up using one part multi-purpose compost, one part silver sand and one part grit.

What are the opening times for West Middlesex Hospital X-Ray Department?
Um.

Houseplant Ennui

Does this happen to anyone else? You buy a plant. You water it when it needs it. You feed it when it needs it. You put it in a place appropriate to its light and temperature needs. It lives, it grows, it flourishes. And then one day, for a reason that wholly eludes you, it goes like this:


That is Selaginella martensii. Six months ago it looked like this:


In fact, it looked like that until about a week and a half ago. There are still two or three "branches" that aren't floppy, so there's hope. But what to do? I tend to need to water it once or twice a week, tops, so it was a surprise to see it absolutely swimming in water. Repot? Shove in the greenhouse? Feed? Or compost?

Friday Fern #31

Gorgeous little lady fern this week: Athyrium filix-femina "Frizelliae", the tatting fern.


It's referred to as a Jurassic Park escapee, so I felt it was only right that I recapture it. It can revert, and I've had a couple of fronds coming up looking like regular lady fern fronds rather than the macramé-like ropes.

I've hung it and an Athyrium otophorum up on the fire escape support post to try to disguise it a bit:


I need to get me some of those hooks that will hold it fairly straight (although at the moment I only need to water the top fern as it seeps through to the bottom one as an impromptu water feature). In fact, I'm going to have to put a trellis up on the wall soon, I think, and start hanging ferns up there.

Invasive Pests And The Japanese Knotweed Consultation

There's an episode of "The Simpsons", where invasive lizards are found to be an effective predator of pigeons in Springfield (Season 10, episode 3, "Bart The Mother"). About 21 minutes in, Principal Skinner and Lisa have the following conversation:

Skinner: Well, I was wrong. The lizards are a godsend.
Lisa: But isn't that a bit short-sighted? What happens when we're overrun by lizards?
Skinner: No problem. We simply release wave after wave of Chinese needle snakes. They'll wipe out the lizards.
Lisa: But aren't the snakes even worse?
Skinner: Yes, but we're prepared for that. We've lined up a fabulous type of gorilla that thrives on snake meat.
Lisa: But then we're stuck with gorillas!
Skinner: No, that's the beautiful part. When wintertime rolls around, the gorillas simply freeze to death.

This came to mind when Hubster and I were talking about the news that Defra are opening a consultation on the introduction of a tiny louse, Aphalara itadori, to control the invasive weed Japanese knotweed, Fallopia japonica. It's an elegant idea - forget glyphosate, napalm, flame-throwers, hot tar, all those normal gardening methods - why not use Nature Itself? Biological control is nothing new. Attract frogs and toads to your garden to get rid of slugs; better still, apply a rinse of Nemaslug - parasitic nematodes that infest the bodies of slugs. Do the same for vine weevil and leatherjacket larvae. Get predatory mites that feast on RSM into your greenhouse.

According to Defra:

The psyllid has been tested on 87 non-target types of plant including those closely related to Japanese knotweed as well as ornamental plants and important crops, to determine whether it will feed on other plants. The findings suggest that only a few closely-related non-native knotweeds are potential hosts in Britain.

Okay, they've got some good evidence there (although if I grew rare ornamental knotweeds in my exotic garden I wouldn't be too thrilled at the prospect of another pest to deal with!). It may all be fine, and if successful it will be less damaging (and less of a public health issue) than using weedkillers. And let me clarify - Japanese knotweed is a horrible invasive plant, and I can honestly say I would be delighted if it could be eradicated from the UK.

But I have my concerns. The Pest Risk Assessment is a good read. Here are a few things that leapt out at me:

Page 3: The psyllid overwinters on the bark of conifers in Japan; this is thought to be for shelter only with no significant damage inflicted as a result. It is not known how it would overwinter in the PRA area but it is likely to be on conifereous trees and no feeding damage is envisaged.

It is not known?! As a grower of many, many conifers, I'm not entirely convinced that's a good enough answer for me.

Page 3: The winters in the psyllid's native range in Japan are harsher than the UK with much more snowfall. The summers can be very hot and dry. So, in general, climatic extremes are greater in its native range in Japan, compared to GB.

So it looks like our psyllids won't be making like the Springfield gorillas and freezing to death. Have the effects of a milder winter been fully investigated?

Page 6: Threats to non-target species that were unable to support development to adult are presumed to be low, but if the knotweed host is severely damaged or eradicated there is a risk of some "spillover" damage in the short term.

So if the louse succeeds in its task, it might start on some of the other local species. What I couldn't find on my scan of the documents was anything to say whether the louse would have predators. Will insectivorous birds like blue tits happily predate on the psyllids, or will knotweed availability be the only limiting factor?

It's food for thought. I'm certainly not a target consultee (I don't even have a problem with it in the garden), but if any of you would like some input, the full consultation is available on Defra's website.

About Sodding Time

Last month I was bitching about how my Wollemia was being crap. Looks like the bitching worked.


See that? There's an apical polar cap dissolving, and some new growth at the end of the branches:


Well done Matildus - you're only well over a month late. Glad you could join us for what's left of the summer.

Knees Up, Knees Up, Never Let The Breeze Up

Did you know that some trees have knees? I discovered this on Friday, as anyone who is friends with me on Facebook will know. Before going to Hampton Court, Hubster and went for a stroll in Bushy Park. There's a fenced off garden with a Taxodium Walk, lined with baldcypresses, Taxodium distichum. And they have these weird knobbly bits:


I'd thought they were a quaint new-age sculpture, but no, they're part of the tree:


Turns out they're called cypress knees. And as their main function appears to be stabilisation it makes sense to see them where the trees are in waterlogged soil (as I imagine the ground next to the pond is). I wouldn't trust the majority of the Wikipedia article - the final paragraph deserves attention of the mocking variety on my other blog - but the sheer number of Google search results involving the cool carvings you can do with these knobbly bits at least confirms that they are indeed called cypress knees...

Effective Advertising

Spotted at a nursery in Crews Hill yesterday:


Brilliant! I'll buy 30 of them. Anything to stop the little sods eating my Adiantum raddianum, my Dicksonia squarrosa, my Ginkgo biloba, my Magnolia x soulangeana, etc, etc...

Knowing my luck though, my garden's slugs will just eat their way through any Sarracenia I put in their way. And then they'll probably eat the flies already trapped. And for an encore they'll devour the bloody pot.

Sequoioid ID: Cones

Three cones, one from each genus in a small conifer family:


First up, and the largest of the three, Sequoiadendron giganteum:


A bit thinner, scrawnier and more open (although I accept the openness is likely down to ripening and dispersal of seeds) cone belongs to Sequoia sempervirens:


And finally, my favourite, and the tiniest of the lot (see the comparative photo of all three) - Metasequoia glyptostroboides:


Not being a proper botanist, I'm not sure what taxonomical rules are in place, what characters are used to distinguish between the three genera. But at least if a mad woman runs up to you when you're in a botanical garden and demands that you guess which sequoioid cone she's holding, you'll be able to correctly answer her question.

Sequoioid ID: Foliage

Having taken loads of pics of the conifers at Wisley, here are some that show the differences between Sequoia, Sequoiadendron and Metasequoia. As far as needles go, it's pretty easy to tell Sequoiadendron apart from the other three:


Needles lying flat against the branches, very similar to Halocarpus or a cypress.

Metasequoia is deciduous (so it's really easy to identify in the spring and autumn!), and it has very soft needles that curl downwards slightly:


If you like plants in your garden that you can touch, and if you have room for a large conifer, go for one of these. I sometimes find it a bit difficult to tell the difference between Metasequoia and Taxodium distichum, both of which are rather popular ornamental trees, but I've found as a general rule that Taxodium needles are shorter and straighter than Metasequoia.

Then to confuse matters is Sequoia itself, which has shorter straighter needles than Metqsequoia!


But it does have these little pale nodes, where the new growth branches out. And the needles are a bit closer together.

The really interesting bit comes when you look at the cones though. Watch this space.

Friday Fern #30

Two weeks ago, I found a floating fern. Now, I've managed to find a climbing fern. At Fibrex Nurseries I came across Lygodium japonicum:


The label said it could reach 1-1.8m in height, but good old Dave's Garden has said it can get to ten times that height. It's hardy for London, so I've wrapped it around my railings as you can see.


I wonder if it will take off. It's classified as yet another highly invasive, noxious weed, so with any luck it'll do fine in Jurassic Park.

Hampton Court Highlights

A week ago, I was at the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show. I think it's my favourite of the two big London RHS shows, not least because there are so many sellers there - the first thing I did was make a beeline for the Nemaslug guy! Hopefully this will reduce the number of slugs eating my ferns and angiosperms, the little bastards.

Anyway, pictures. Really liked some of the ideas in the sustainable gardens, including this one, The Rain Chain, with a chain directing water off the roof. I wonder if this might be a solution to my obscenely wide downspout?


I also liked Jack Dunckley's A Desert's Delight, with two distinct exotic gardening styles, the xeriscape:


And the lush tropical:


The Thailand Garden of Serenity was gorgeous too:


And I need to add this crocodile fern to the Covet List:


Only two of the conceptual gardens were what I would call pretentious wankery, and I very much loved this one, Concreation:


And the It's Hard To See garden, which I showed you last week.

There was more shopping in the form of what is becoming an annual trip to the Mendip Bonsai stand. They sell all my favourite exotic conifers as seedlings, suitable for planting out, container growing or bonsai. Last year I got myself a Taxodium distichum, a Ginkgo biloba and a Sequioadendron giganteum - the whole lot came to about £7, and the Ginkgo and Taxodium have each grown about a foot and a half in the past year. This year I picked up a Pseudolarix amabilis and a Larix kaempferi. And I could do whole posts just on bonsai trees. Art masquerading as gardening, that is.

Hubster managed to keep himself entertained, and I think (although he'd never admit it in case I get the impression he likes looking at plants) he actually enjoyed himself. Unlike this really bored-looking dragon:

Gentle Giants

The RHS gardens at Wisley have their popular bits - the rose garden, the glasshouse, the alpine collection. And on a fine day it's difficult to get some quality quiet time in these places. But if you occasionally like a walk in the garden without shrill juvenile voices and slow-moving coach parties, turn right at the restaurant and head to the pinetum, where the only people you'll meet will be similarly looking for some quiet contemplation among the gentle giants.

I first visited back in January, and it was just as deserted in June. And this is what the Metasequoia glyptostroboides looked like in January:


This was it in June!


As well as this beautiful Metasequoia, Wisley have a Sequoiadendron giganteum and Sequoia sempervirens - all three sequoioids (isn't that a great name?). So I was able to pick some cones and photograph some leaves to help me distinguish more easily between the three (and indulge my nerdy bits). The cones look beautiful. I have them in a shot glass at the moment on the mantelpiece.

Some Way To Go

On my last trip to Wisley I got stuck behind a party of primary school children, so I decided to take a different route round, and went to the top of the conifer lawn. This is what I saw:


A Wollemia nobilis in the shadow of what looks like a massive Leyland or Lawson cypress!

Don't worry little fellow, one day you'll be as tall as your friend.

The Covet List #1

I wrote this for pre-posting before visiting the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show, where I actually managed to buy one of these.

Sometimes I spot a plant that I really, really want. A few weeks ago at Wisley, I saw a plant that I've been after since Carol Klein pointed it out on a Chelsea Flower Show programme a couple of years ago.


Recognise it?

It's the teeniest tiniest cutest little Gunnera you ever did see! It's the second smallest of the genus, G. magellanicum (I have yet to see a G. albocarpa, only 1-2cm long). And the RHS have obliged by putting it right next to G. manicata for scale...


There - the entire clump of the tinies is still smaller in terms of area than one of those triffid leaves.

And now here it is!


Can't wait to get it planted out.

Friday Fern #29

This is a cute little fern I picked up last year. It was sold as "Pteris Mix" (I'm sure some of the more supermarket-y garden centres think that's an acceptable label for any fern they can't be bothered to identify). But as you can see from the photo, I think it's a form of Adiantum raddianum:


This one is coming back from the dead, as I kept it as a houseplant and sort of "forgot" to water it... I am continually amazed by the whole Adiantum genus' ability to resurrect itself.

Edit: Yeah, just had to reset the image URL as there was a lovely but irrelevant photo of the pond rather than the fern...

Back From The Palace

I've been to Hampton Court today with Hubster and one of my gardening buddies. In retrospect maybe having the whole day there but taking time to sit down an awful lot in between gardens would have been better, because we are both so sore! I don't recommend doing Hampton Court less than two months after a car prang...

We had the best day for it, according to the guy selling TubTrugs, and it was good to chat to some old friends manning their stands. I'll post some more photos over the weekend I expect, but this was one of my highlights:


This is "It's Hard To See", one of the conceptual gardens.

Wisley Gets Its Cycads Out

A pleasant surprise for me a couple of weeks ago was to round the corner of the glasshouse and see a display of some of RHS Wisley's best cycad specimens.


Macrozamia spiralis:


M. johnsonii:


Hybrid of Cycas revoluta (f) and C. taitungensis (m):


And I really was over the moon to see, pride of place right in the centre of the display, my absolute favourite Encephalartos horridus:


Compared to some of the photos I've seen of them in the wild, this is quite a small specimen, but I don't care - I was just SO happy to be able to see it (and maybe perhaps touch a frond and feel just how "horridus" it really was...).


Really, there aren't many plants that say "Back off bitches" quite so effectively as this chap.