Published: Apr 03, 2004 12:30 AM
Modified: Oct 24, 2005 09:15 AM
Carol Stein
I just recently discovered "The Adventurous Gardener's Sourcebook of Rare and Unusual Plants." It was published about 12 years ago -- about the same time I moved to North Carolina. Imagine my surprise to find that many of the plants I've been growing over the past decade are introduced as rare or unusual.
In fact, many of the "rare and unusual" plants in the book by William C. Mulligan are either common sights in area garden centers or are often passed along among friends and neighbors looking to share some of the pleasure the blooms bring.
One such "rare" plant -- French hollyhock -- is a personal favorite in my garden. It was passed along to me about five years ago by Cheryl Dorney, who owns Buchanan's Nursery. She gave me a small pot of seedlings and told me to plant them almost anywhere, but warned they would spread by self-seeding.
A friend also gave me a cutting of a shrub she called Sweet Betsy, or sweet shrub (Calycanthus). It was from her old-fashioned garden in Rolesville. Ever since I stuck that little stick in the ground, I've been trying to make Sweet Betsy behave, but she won't be denied her space. Her fragrant, rusty maroon flowers scent the air near my front porch with a sweet cinnamony fragrance in the springtime.
Althaea Zebrina, or Malva 'Zebrina', termed by Mulligan as a "miniature" hollyhock, has provided plenty of pass-along babies ever since. In sunny conditions, it performs as a biennial, remaining green even during harsh winters. It often blooms throughout the first and second seasons on 3-foot-tall stalks. The small burgundy-striped lavender flowers resemble a large scented geranium blossom, attracting bees and butterflies in droves.
Then there's gaura, also known as whirling butterflies. It is one of the hardiest "unusual" perennials in my garden. In spring, gaura appears to be an unremarkable landscape filler, but come summer, it evolves dramatically, sending up tall wands bearing dozens of deep pink buds. As the buds open, the delicate blossoms are first snowy-white. But they age to a sweet baby-pink. In a summer breeze, the blooms truly resemble whirling butterflies.
Salvia greggii, or autumn sage, is a drought-tolerant hummingbird magnet. From midsummer to late fall, it displays stalks of rosy-red flowers. It got so large near my back deck, that had to move it to a roomier location where it is thriving.
Another perennial salvia, Salvia leucantha, or Mexican bush sage, produces the most astounding flowers. Growing to about waist high, its silvery-green leaves are longer and more spear-shaped than culinary sage.
In early fall, flower stalks emerge with tight purple buds that are such a spectacular color they completely satisfy my passion for purple. A few days later, the purple flowers give up their dramatic secret by unfurling snow-white petticoats. Unfortunately Mexican sage may not survive a harsh winter, but, even if I must treat it as an annual shrub, I've reserved a special space in my garden to replant it each year.
It was amusing to find two of the mainstays of our gardens listed in the shrub category of Mulligan's book. The now commonplace buddleia (butterfly bush) and Callicarpa (American beautyberry) are prolific growers here. Both are wonderful free-form shrubs. In my garden, butterflies enjoy butterfly bush blooms in soft lavender, deep purple and gold. And nearly everyone here is familiar with the shocking magenta berries or pearly whites of the native beautyberry.
Yes, it looks like many plants once rare and unusual, have become common threads connecting many of our gardens. It will be interesting to see what "exotic" plants the next decade will bring.
All rights reserved. This copyrighted material may not be published, broadcast or redistributed in any manner.
Get $150+ in coupons in every Sunday N&O. Click here for convenient home delivery.