In midsummer I went on a jaunt to Virginia several years ago. The heat was oppressive in the Tidewater area, but the crape myrtle in all the richness of its pink bloom made me forget somewhat the temperature that seemed to envelop me wherever I went. To be sure, there are lavender, white and reddish varieties, but the old, familiar pink form of crape myrtle is to Virginia what lilacs are to New England. Both the crape myrtle and the lilac are plants of foreign origin, but in each instance they have so well adapted themselves to their new homes that they have become a part of our American landscape. Both plants tend to get somewhat “leggy” and hear their blooms high like an over-decorated bonnet of days gone by. However, age gives them a kind of distinctive character which makes them belong in the places they grow as mulberry trees do in Williamsburg, Virginia, hollyhocks in Marblehead, Massachusetts, and the tree or heaven in Brooklyn, New York.
I have often wondered why someone hasn’t written a book about the flowers that grow along the railroad tracks. Over the years, I have noted many native and introduced plants that have established themselves on deep slopes along the sides of rail lines. Several days ago, I saw a superb colony of Scotch thistles blooming in all their purple glory. Bouncing bet and dyer’s weed, a species of genista, are also among the denizens of the hot, dry slopes where dust and soot saturate the atmosphere almost eighteen hours a day. And yet they persist to please the eyes of travelers and daily commuters. In various parts of the country rambler roses and other plants. including hemerocallis, have been planted, especially around way stations, to embellish these usually drab areas. Occasionally gardeners dump their rubbish over a fence or wall along the tracks, so, sometimes, we see garden flowers flourishing along these forlorn areas. I have often thought it would be fun if some railroad organization would supply packets of seed to their passengers, urging them to scatter the contents as they go along on their journeys. It might help to prevent erosion, conceal the trash, and make a more pleasant series of vistas along the iron roads so many of us travel from time to time.
Over the years, there has been an amazing revival of interest in camellias especially in the South and on the West Coast. Collectors eagerly track down old varieties, and attempt to straighten out the confusion that has existed in the numerous named varieties. In New England, these flowering, broad-leaved evergreens are not hardy and must be grown in a cool greenhouse or the sun porch.
Deer Battles
One of my friends who has a Summer place in Vermont is complaining these days about the problem of trying to have a garden in an area where the deer are abundant. She says she hasn’t seen her clumps of hardy phlox bloom for several years. It used to be that the woodchucks did a job when the plants were a few inches high, and now when the plants are ready to bud, the deer come along and lop off the tops of the plants. Scarecrows are of no avail, and it’s too costly to build a fence high enough to keep them out. “So what’s a body going to do?”, asks she. If only the dear deer would eat the weeds, but like those little two-footed dears who wander into my garden amid run across the lawn, they almost always land in the wrong places.
Curious Weather Effects
Changes in weather can have curious effects on plants and, sometimes, the damage to foliage is mysterious enough to make one wonder if a new disease has suddenly appeared. During the recent convention in Boston, a tropical atmosphere enveloped the entire city. However, later in the evening a violent thunderstorm occurred which cooled the air temporarily. The next morning gardeners were calling in excitedly to describe how their azaleas and rhododendrons had turned brown and their perennials looked as though someone had poured boiling water on the foliage. From what we can gather it was the sudden change in temperature plus the cool rain pouring heavily on warm soft foliage that caused time damage. This curious condition had us all guessing for a while, but then most of us wilt in torrid temperatures and plants obviously react like people.
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