My Blue Glory

There are plants that are so captivating that I need to find them again when I have lost them.  I got my first Thunbergia battiscombei at a Friends of the National Arboretum Plant Sale many years ago.  I think it got lost when I moved. 

I remembered this spring how well it had held up in the heat and I had to have it back.  I found it at Kartuz Greenhouses and they sent me a small plant.  I potted it up and stuck under the plant light, and it promptly lost its leaves, but sent forth a vigorous sprout from somewhere below the soil surface.  After it got outdoors and experienced the full heat of a concrete porch in full sun in a hot Maryland summer, it grew rapidly. 

I now can put words to my fondness for this plant.  First, the color of the flowers.  Not really violet, not really blue, but saturated.  There's nothing quite the same color, and the deep yellow throat of each flower flaunts that particular shade of blue.  The visual effect is cooling on the hottest day.  The pod-like buds are really interesting, with their network of veins and hairiness.  I like how the flowers burst out of them one day and are gone the next.  And it doesn't vine like other Thunbergia species, so it is just tidier and needs less space.

Not Your Grandma's Gloxinia

When we returned to Maryland, I was aware of the derecho that caused millions to be without power.  I knew that my home was one of those without electricity.  Aside from being thankful that I had cleared almost everything out of the refrigerator and freezer before vacation and that I didn't have to try to sleep in the sweltering heat, I worried a bit about my plants.

After last summer's heat caused the death of most of my Streptocarpus, I resolved to keep them and a few other gesneriads in the plant room near the window and open the vent to provide them with some cool circulating air for the hottest months.  With the power out, that was not to be.  And the plant caregiver misunderstood my instructions and gave them no water after the power outage. With no air conditioning and no open windows, I hate to think how hot it got in that plant room.  Most of the Streptocarpus were gone, but the two Sinningia plants perked up after I watered them.  Just a couple of weeks later, this one was in full bloom; the only damage it suffered was the shriveling of about half the flower buds.  I moved it to my bedroom window.  I've struggled to find the cultivar name.  I know I got it from The Violet Barn, but they don't have it right now.  I think it is 'San Pedro' or something like that.

This is a vital location for this gardener.  It is the first plant I commune with each morning, and I need something in this spot that will say good morning to me and help me shake off the deep morning drowsiness I feel when I wake earlier than I really want to so I can beat traffic headed toward Washington, DC.  I'm reminded once again of my admiration of plants with storage organs, since it has a corm.  It was hardly harmed by some very neglectful conditions.  Prior to growing it in the open, I kept it in a terrarium where it struggled with too little light and not enough room.  The leaves have been lovely even when it hasn't been in bloom. 

I Really Cotton to This Plant!

Sorry.  I couldn't resist the corny title.  I love cotton.  Sheets and clothing should be cotton.  Cotton swabs are very useful.  Cotton is fun and soft, and some don't even know that it comes from a plant.  Indeed, when Germans first saw cotton imported from the Middle East and were told that it came from a plant, they conjured up a plant bearing tiny sheep, since surely the fibers were just a different type of wool.  Even now, the word for cotton in German is baumwolle, which means tree wool. 

We've long had a strain in the National Herb Garden with deep purplish leaves.  It's a great annual for filling space and coping with heat and drought.  In all the hot and humid weather we have had, it has grown lustily. 

The flowers are nice, too, and have the good sense to contrast with the dark leaves.  It would be too much for the cotton to be bright red, so it is the standard white color. 

It's a wonder that such a tough and lovely plant has not found its way into our gardens more often.  I guess there are a few reasons.  It grows only from seeds, and they are best planted where they are to grow.  It must only be planted when it really gets hot, June at the earliest in Washington, DC.  The flowers don't sit proudly atop the foliage, and each one lasts just a day or two.  Maybe someone needs to do some breeding for beauty here.  And I guess those wishing to be self sufficient could easily make their own cotton balls.