Three sizzling, heat-loving summer stalwarts
What a sizzling summer. A surprising one, too.
While some of my plants keep wilting and pleading for water (especially the Black Eyed Susans), others seem as happy as toddlers with a dish of ice cream. Soaring temperatures and no rain clearly don’t bother them one bit.
These stalwarts are mostly flowers that originated in the tropics. And they seem to be shouting: “Thank you, thank you! Finally some weather like we’re supposed to have. It’s about time.” It sure is. After a wet, mostly miserable summer last year, this unusual burst of heat may be prompting dire warnings about climate change, but I confess to liking it too. How wonderful to putter in the garden in early morning without a jacket and cold hands. How uplifting to see such vivid, vibrant colour in the flower beds.
At times like this, with the birds singing and bees buzzing about, winter disappears from consciousness like a mirage.
Did we really have late, wet snow here at the end of May? Yes, we did. But it seems unbelievable now.
Here are three heat-loving beauties that are brightening my garden this summer: Nasturtiums Supposedly easy, but I normally never have much luck with them. And that’s hardly surprising where I live, northwest of Toronto, for they are native to Mexico.
Usually, far too many big green leaves come up — and these quickly become annoying, especially when people who are into chomping on hosta leaves and day lilies keep bugging me: “Well, you can put them in salads, you know.” (Yes, I do know that, folks, but I want pretty flowers for the deck.)
However, this year, my untrust- worthy Tropaeolum — to use their Latin moniker — are flowering so well, I’m amazed. I have three containers overflowing with scarlet, crimson, orange and yellow. Yum. Sempervivums Commonly known as hens and chicks, these are perfect for sunny, dry, difficult spots where you’ve given up trying to grow anything else.
But this year, wow, I think a better name would be GUYS and chicks.
That’s because mine have sent up lots of curious, curving “protuberances” from their base rosettes of leaves. And these protuberances bear — it has to be admitted — an irresistible resemblance to a certain part of male anatomy.
So where, I wonder, does the allusion to hens and chicks come in?
There is surely nothing about this rather bizarre plant (which belongs to the succulent family) to inspire images of a momma chicken with her brood.
At any rate, my sexy Sempervivums, clearly turned on by all this heat and sun, are adding a welcome touch of spice. Zinnias So easy. So colourful. Such Pollyannas.
I always start a few zinnias from seed in late winter, as therapy. Picturing them in bloom helps blot out the freezing rain and general yuckiness that inevitably invades Ontario in March, making me ache to flee to Mexico (where zinnias come from) and stay there.
This year, I’m growing a whopping orange variety called Mighty Lion. What a knockout.
The seeds came from Renee’s Garden — and no surprise there. Indefatigable, California-based Renee Shepherd (reneesgarden.com) personally tests all her offerings, and sells the best selection of zinnia seeds I know.
Global warming? I feel guilty, but as a winter-weary Canadian, I’m enjoying it. soniaday.com