What? Philodendron here?

One of those plants that brings to us tundra dwellers visions of the tropics is Philodendron selloum. You can find it at any theme park, green house or exhibit where the designer wishes to add a tropical or prehistoric touch.

In Florida, from the panhandle to destinations south, it is as ubiquitous as cabbage palmettos and Cycas revoluta. In those locals it never gets cold enough to kill the stems so the plant meanders about the landscape as one part vine and one part shrub.

I have always wanted to have this plant. I killed a couple over the years (neglect, it's a pretty easy houseplant) and eyed them on vacation in Florida. "Wow" I thought, "imagine, this plant grows as far north as Saint Augustine".

Imagine my excitement when I learned from a venerable plantsman Anniston Alabama that he was familiar with a clump that had grown there for years (Anniston and I roughly have the same climate).


As soon as I became a home owner, Philodendron selloum was one of the first plants I put in the ground. Years later it still surprises me each spring as it returns (watch out for slugs in April, they can really slow the emergence of this plant).Each winter the stems die to the ground, however the clumps that get enough sun do slowly increase and look fantastic. Cool as it may sound, the leaves don't even "fry" until it gets below 25F. So, often mine are still looking good on New Years.

So if you're looking for a little bit of the tropics in your more northerly garden, try The Home Depot and pick up a selloum for $10 and put it in the ground, it won't disappoint you if you live in a warm USDA 7b or higher.

Clethras

Japanese Clethra (Clethra barbinervis) has something to offer gardeners in every season. In spring and summer it has attractive, dark green foliage that's not subject to significant damage from insects or diseases. During the summer it adds showy, fragrant, white flowers. In autumn the leaves change to striking shades of orange and red, and after they drop the handsome, smooth, exfoliating bark and a nicely stratified branching pattern are revealed and may be enjoyed all winter.

It's another plant that I'd expect to see everywhere, but the only place I've observed any, other than my own garden, is at Sarah P. Duke Gardens in Durham, North Carolina, where there's a nice grove of them. Here in Raleigh we're towards the southern limit of where it can be successfully cultivated, so it must be sited carefully in moist, well drained soil in partial sun because it will not tolerate any combination of hot sun and dry soil in our climate.

Notice in the photo below that the flowers are all clustered at the top of the plant. This was caused by the April freeze that damaged this plant and others in the garden. The plant pictured lost nearly all of the new leaves and shoots on its lower two-thirds, and along with them the tissues that would have become this summer's flowers. Although the natural form of Clethra barbinervis is a large shrub, it can be pruned to become a small tree, revealing its handsome bark in all seasons. Each year it will grow a few new suckers low on its trunk, but they're easily removed and not much of a maintenance problem.

Clethra barbinervis is not the only Clethra growing in the garden. Its North American counterpart is probably Cinnamonbark Clethra (Clethra acuminata), also a desirable plant, but that's not in the garden, at least not yet. The other Clethra in the garden is the native Summersweet Clethra (Clethra alnifolia), whose common name refers to its summertime blooming of sweetly fragrant flowers. The most common flower color for this species is white, but the form I have pictured is an attractive pink flowered selection named 'Ruby Spice'.

Notice that this plant is covered with flowers from top to bottom. Because Clethra alnifolia is one of the last deciduous plants to leaf out in the spring it completely missed this year's April freeze. Like Clethra barbinervis, best growth of Clethra alnifolia occurs on moist soils. It can take full sun as long as the soil isn't too dry and even thrives in wet soils that would rot the root systems of many plants. In contrast to Clethra barbinervis, Clethra alnifolia doesn't have particularly interesting bark and can't easily be pruned into a small tree. In addition to growing shoots on its lower trunk, it also grows them from its entire root system and without maintenance it will soon colonize an area. It's not that aggressive so this usually isn't a problem, but a gardener considering using it should be aware of this habit.

Hymenocallis 'Tropical Giant'

A few weeks ago, in his post about Hymenocallis × festalis (syn. Ismene × festalis), Bodhisagan mentioned that he also grew some sexier Hymenocallis. I can't be sure which he was referring to, but the one featured in this post, Hymenocallis 'Tropical Giant', is one that comes to mind.

Like all Hymenocallis, its flower construction consists of six spidery petals surrounding a central cup (corona). The cup, like that of the familiar daffodil (Narcissus), a genus in the same family, Amaryllidaceae, is featured prominently in the scientific name because Hymenocallis translates literally to "beautiful membrane". A unique characteristic of 'Tropical Giant' is that three of the petals curve down while the other three point out.

Hymenocallis is a New World genus, with species native to the southern United States through northern South America, and all places in between, including the West Indies, but the exact origins of 'Tropical Giant' remain a mystery. In some garden literature it's referred to as a hybrid, but in other places it's attributed to H. caymanensis, a species from the Cayman Islands.

Despite its mysterious origins, one thing that's clear to me is that the combination of bold, glossy, dark green leaves and large, fragrant, white flowers make it one of the finest perennials for gardens in the Southeastern United States. In addition to its good looks it's easy to grow, it thrives in full sun to part shade in average to wet soils. It also multiplies readily by offsets, so sizable clumps develop with time.

Even if we had clear knowledge of its origins, another mystery remains. With all of its desirable qualities I'd expect to see this plant widely grown, yet it's a rarity. I don't know the reason for this, perhaps it is not thought to survive in climates with sub-freezing winter temperatures, or maybe it just needs more publicity, but it's a shame it's not used more frequently.

Passiflora incarnata

Passiflora incarnata is a wildflower, common in the southern United States and in Latin and South America. It is native to Crowley’s Ridge, the upland in the lowlands where I live and garden in southeast Missouri.

A sprawling or climbing perennial vine, the unusual and beautiful white and purple-fringed blooms are up to three inches across. They open quickly around noon and last but a day. However, bloom time is extended from June through September here in Missouri. Large three-lobed, serrated, deep green leaves add to the plant’s attractiveness. It spreads by underground roots and should be planted where it can be controlled. The two-inch fruit is edible. It is said to be sweet but seedy and mostly benefits wildlife. I haven’t tried one yet but it should be good as it’s what gives Hawaiian Punch its distinctive flavor. The entire plant is used medicinally mainly as a sedative and it is host to fritillary butterflies.

The passionflower as it is commonly called is named not for the passion of love but for the passion of the Christ, the hours of suffering after the Last Supper until his death on the cross. When Christians from Spain arrived in South America, different parts of the plant were reminders to them of the crucifixion. According to their elaborate analogy, the corona in the center of the flower was thought to resemble the crown of thorns. The flower’s tendrils symbolized whips, the five stamens represented the five wounds; the triple stigma, the three nails. Five petals and five sepals that surround the corona corresponded to the ten faithful apostles, minus Peter who denied and Judas who betrayed. The scientific name continues the analogy. Incarnata means to be endowed with a human body. Those Christians believed that the person who was crucified was God in the flesh. Though it was not named for love, that analogy fits too. Great sacrifice always demands passionate love!

Crinums of the Northeast

Because I want others to enjoy them, and also because I'm curious about where they'll grow, I've sent Crinums to relatives living in the Northeast. Last week I traveled to Greenport, New York to visit family, stopping in Hershey, Pennsylvania along the way, and got to check in on some of the bulbs I've sent, some just recently planted and others that are now fully established.

At the first stop, in Hershey, Pennsylvania, the Crinum bulbispermum that I sent several years ago was in bloom. While not in bloom yet, both Crinum 'Seven Sisters' and Crinum 'Mrs. James Hendry' survived last winter in the ground, and Crinum × powellii 'Album' and Crinum 'Cecil Houdyshel' are new additions this spring. All of these are planted in a sheltered location in front of the house with a southern exposure.

Crinum bulbispermum in Hershey, Pennsylvania

At the next stop, in Greenport, New York, Crinum 'Cecil Houdyshel' was in bloom and Crinum 'Mrs. James Hendry' was preparing to bloom with a scape already up. Filling out the group was Crinum × powellii 'Album', a new addition this spring. 'Cecil Houdyshel' and 'Mrs. James Hendry' have survived several winters in this sheltered location against a south facing wall, backed by a hedge and then a two story building, all of this about 50 feet (15m) from Greenport Harbor.

Crinum 'Cecil Houdyshel' in Greenport, New York

C. × powellii 'Album', 'Cecil Houdyshel', and 'Mrs. James Hendry'

Crinums by the shore

Note that in both gardens the bulbs and the sites where they were planted were chosen carefully. All of the bulbs have Crinum bulbispermum in their ancestry and the sites have protected southern exposures and, in the case of the Greenport garden, very close proximity to a temperature moderating, large body of water. So far it's working, the plants are surviving the winters and are growing and blooming well. A really nasty winter could wipe them all out, but the results so far are encouraging.

While I expected to see Crinums at our first two stops because I sent them there, I did not expect to see Crinums in the heart of New York City, but in Rockefeller Center I found the large, red-foliaged Crinum procerum splendens used in combination with Alocasias, Alpinias, bananas, palms, and bromeliads in a really attractive summer display. Obviously none of these can survive a New York City winter outdoors, but I was happy to see them on display in such a prominent location during our summertime visit.

Tropical landscape at Rockefeller Center

Crinum procerum splendens with Alocasia, Musa, and bromeliads