Immoral grannies

Press, 16 February 1978, Page 12

Immoral grannies

Now that we are past the middle of February it is time to concede that this year I will not see any flowers in my favourite columbine — the aristocratic North American species, Aquilegia longissima. This species, which has quite lovely flowers in lemon yellow and white, with long, elegant spurs, is a bit of an odd man out in its family, in that its habit is to flower in midsummer, or even late summer, after the heat comes on; other aquilegias flower not later than the beginning of December, and by the time the really hot weather arrives they have turned their attention to seeds.

This, as anyone knows who has grown the oldfashioned, short-spurred blue and pink types called “granny bonnets,” they do with alarming ease. The trouble is that while granny might have been straight-laced, her bonnets are not.

I think it was E. A. Bowles who described the aquilegias as “a most immoral genus.” Not only are they very promiscuous perennials, flowering usually in the second season from sowing the seed; they are generous with their favours. The species can, and, at the drop of a pollen, will, interbreed — sometimes with pretty awful results, as when one of the tiny, scree-loving alpine species crosses with the tall a q u i 1 e g i a vulgaris, producing an ungainly 3ft

plant |vith half-inch flowers. ’ This is why aquilegias are infuriating, as well as beautiful, plants. There is no way of propagating them, except by seed — and two years is a long time to nurse a viper.

Aquilegia longissima, however, escapes all this by having the sense to flower after the others have retired, so that it is quite safe to gather and sow its seeds. It also differs from its cousins by taking an extra year to reach flowering age, and therein lies the explanation for my absence of flowers: my seedlings are in their second year.

I notice with a bump signs that, hot weather notwithstanding, summer is nearly over: the first autumn crocuses (colchicums) have arrived, and a few flowers have appeared in recent days on one of the oddities in my garden — Iris dichotoma, an eccentric species from Soviet Central Asia.

The eccentricity springs not from its flowers, which are flat, purplish, about two inches across, and altogether typical of irises of the apogon (i.e. beardless) subdivision; but

from their timing,- and their brief life. As far as I know, this is the only one among the hundreds of species in the iris genus that reserves its flowering until autumn, and consequently, I suppose, it could be said to fill a gap in the iris calendar. Some experts have suggested that it should not really be classified as an iris at all.

It is actually closer to the herbertias and the moraeas, sharing with them the habit of brevity: its flowers, which do not open until afternoon, are> shrivelled and dead within a few hours. No other iris has such a fleeting glory. Its eccentricities do not stop there. The flowers, which continue to appear over several weeks, are produced on a wiry, 3ft stem that springs from a fairly conventional fan of light green and quite decorative leaves. But when it had finished flowering in a few weeks, these leaves will die (and indeed, unless conditions are very favourable, the whole plant will die). All will not be lost, however: where the flowering stem branches, small tufts of leaves will develop, and if these are detached and planted they will grow into flowering plants within a year. I don’t know of any nursery that offers Iris dichotoma, so if, like me, you admire eccentricity you will have to do as I did and raise it initially from seed.

GARDENER’S DIARY

By

Derrick Rooney