Clivia… in-depth

(Via gardenauthor)

Posted by admin to yellow clivia on 2007-10-12, 11:59:00

©2007 S.W. Haddock, Jr

Yes, this is the same yellow clivia that you saw on the Shutterbug blog of 10/12/07. With red and orange remaining the most commonly encountered species, I thought a little more information about clivia in general, and yellow clivia, in particular, was in order. In the early 1800's, clivia made its way, with the help of gardeners on the move, from its native South Africa to Japan. Next stop was Europe. In England, Clivia miniata was hugely popular, even before it had been properly named. More collecting of native specimens and hybridizing, led to showy new species, which were lost during the First World War.

The 20th century saw a resurgence of the pursuit of more unusual colors, like yellow, peach and pink. Great strides are being made in developing these shades, including a deeper, more golden yellow. The first yellows were a soft, buttery hue (as seen above) and Clivia miniataflava 'Golden Dragon' is one of the better known of this group. Breeders continue to develop larger flowers, attempting to hybridize truly double blooms. Variegated foliage is another aspect that breeders are pursuing and these are especially popular in Japan and China.

Clivia care is fairly basic and quite easy. This member of the Amaryllis family does well near an east or west window, without direct sun. During spring and summer, water regularly but allow soil surface to dry to the touch, between waterings. Feed monthly with 20-20-20 or similar water-soluble fertilizer. Your clivia will enjoy a summer vacation outdoors in light shade or very filtered sun, following the above watering and feeding guidelines.

Stop feeding in fall and water only when the foliage begins to wilt. Keep it in a cool room or porch, where evening temperatures drop to below 50º, but not to freezing. Check it for insects and spray with insecticidal soap, if necessary. Bring it into normal temperatures (house, plant room, etc.) before danger of frost. This rest period lasts for 6-8 weeks and leads to bud set. If this period is shortened, flowering may be delayed. Remove dead blooms, to prevent seed formation. Flowers normally appear in winter. Be sparing with water until spring, when normal watering and feeding schedules are resumed.

Clivia has deep green, curving, strap-like foliage that showcases the gorgeous blooms. It is started from seed and takes 3-5 years to blossom for the first time. It takes about ten years to develop a full, mature plant. So, enjoy this delightfully robust, easy-care, exotic looking specimen in whatever color you prefer. You'll find that clivia is well worth the wait.


©Deb Lambert 2007



The Mums are Coming

(Via grow this)

Posted by admin to Samuel Johnson, The Vanity of Human Wishes, chrysanthemums, mums on 2007-10-12, 09:54:00

“Enlarge my life with multitude of days,
In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays;
Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know,
That life protracted is protracted woe.
Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy,
And shuts up all the passages of joy:
In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour,
The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r…”

Year chases year, decay pursues decay,
Still drops some joy from with'ring life away;
New forms arise, and diff'rent views engage,
Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage,
- Samuel Johnson, "The Vanity of Human Wishes" (253-260) (303-306)

This may be the best year for my chrysanthemums. A few years ago, I stopped ordering the fancy show kind each spring, like the fat white snowball I’ve always wanted to cultivate. Instead, I went for the cushion mums that bloom their brains out in quantity if not quality of bloom. Those are the kind now on sale in your local supermarket, the kind planted on the White House lawn behind the podium where Bush spoke yesterday about the “suffering” of Armenians in Turkey “that began in 1915.” Isn’t the passive voice amazing? Their suffering apparently sprang up without any cause, their genocide merely an unfortunate fluke of fate. I think Johnson would approve.

Now I’ve got plenty of each kind, and since I’ve rooted random cuttings, I no longer know most of their names. Many of my mums are planted in pots. But this year, because I’ve carefully enriched my soil with home made compost, I’ve begun to plant some of them in the ground.

Johnson says humans wish for fame or fortune, for beauty or knowledge, all in vain. The things we accumulate – from global power to collectible dolls – amount to so much compost.

Which would be the kind of bummer Samuel Johnson described in his poem, except for one thing. My mums drop some joy before withering away, like these early ones in a magnetic vase, reflecting their own light on a stainless refrigerator door. And they’re coming soon.