'Glad' Thoughts for the Past, Present, and Future

OK, so Thanksgiving is just around the corner, and I am "glad" and thankful for many gardening memories, activities, and plans.

But the "glads" I'm specifically thinking about here are Gladioli, sometimes called Sword Lilies. They're highly hybridized these days, and the ones I usually plant are mixes, so I get a wide range of colors.

For many years, I planted them regularly, but then I lapsed for about a decade. My climate is a little too cold to leave them in the ground. While some might survive, it's not assured. So, to be safe and to gain plenty of plants for the next year, the "corms" must be dug up, stored for the winter, and replanted the following spring. I guess I just got lazy, and then I kind of forgot about the joys of Gladioli...

But the thing is, the process isn't that hard! It's kind of fun! If you start with a hori hori (the tool shown in the first photo and above--one of my favorites), it's easy to plant them in the spring (about five to eight inches deep). And then you can use the same tool to loosen soil around the corms in the fall, gently lift them, and bring them in for the winter.

For the past few years, I've been enthusiastically going through the motions!

In a previous post about Winter 'Bulb' Storage Made Easy, I shared a simple method of storing the Gladiolus corms in mesh bags for the winter (along with suggested storage for other "bulbs").



But before that stage, I simply lay them flat on newspaper or paper towels to dry out and cure. After a couple weeks, they're ready to have their stems and roots clipped, their old corms removed, and then to be stored until planting in April or May.



At the base of each corm, there are lots of little baby "cormels." Aren't they cute?!

In past years, I've simply composted the cormels, but this year I'm doing a little experiment: Based on my own thoughts and suggestions from Facebook friends (thanks!), I'm saving some of these little babies. Because they can take several years to get big enough to form blooms, some were fed to wildlife in the woods, some have been planted in warm garden spots (maybe they'll survive to bloom in future years?), and some will go into a big planter pot to make it easier to track their progress.



The photo above shows how an old corm from this year produced two new corms and some cormels.



Here's another view of how the cormels form at the base.



It's worth it to go through the digging, curing, storing, and replanting to gain these tall, colorful flower spikes--in the garden and as cut flowers for display.

Glads are definitely part of my past, present, and future. :)

For excellent descriptions of gardening with Gladioli in cold climates, from start to finish, visit these links:

Planting and growing

Lifting and storing

Autumn to Winter, Overnight

Impatiens x hybrida 'Compact Purple Candy'

Just Past Peak

We've been blessed with a stunningly colorful autumn here in this little part of the world. While we're past peak for leaf color, bright tones still populate the landscape—just before our first snow of the season! (Flakes are falling as I post this.) The above Sugar Maple (Acer saccharum) reigns down the road at the neighborhood park.



Back in my garden, the variegated colors of 'Pearl Glam' Beautyberry (Callicarpa dichotoma) are framed by Weigela (W. florida) and more Maple (Acer spp.) foliage.



I don't remember this stage of the Bugbane (Actea racemosa) remains catching my attention as much as it has this autumn. The yellow-peachy colors are unique.



'Tiny Wine' Ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) has been in the garden for several years. It's really taken off this year, probably because of increased sunlight in its location. The green-to-gold foliage is bright and cheery, with a crown of apricot-hued Silver Maple (Acer saccharinum) behind and above it.



Northern Sea Oats (Chasmanthium latifolium) is a fun plant in all seasons, with its oat-shaped seedheads and draping foliage. The collapsing orange Hostas behind it compliment its golden tones.



This Mountain Hydrangea (H. serrata) has rarely flowered here, but its changeable autumn foliage is reason enough to include it in a shady garden.

Finally, the dramatic play of bright red berries and golden leaves on the Cranberrybush Viburnum (V. trilobum) really pops. (Sometimes the fall color is more russet-toned; this year the change happened fast, which may have affected the color.)

I'm sneaking in, late in the day, for "Six on Saturday." While I've included seven photos, only six of the vignettes were from my garden. 😉 Thanks to Jim at Garden Ruminations for hosting!

Tiny Surprises

It started with a Rose bud.

I've never noticed this particular plant blooming in late autumn! It's not a continuous-flowering Rose, and I don't know the cultivar. It was here when we moved in long ago and not marked. We've only had patchy frost to-date, but I doubt this particular bud will bloom before the first freeze (likely tonight). Maybe I'll rescue it...

Then other tiny surprises caught my eye. None of these things are particularly amazing, but they're things I haven't noticed before in this garden or at this time of year.



For example, I've never noticed this type of wasp. Its unique red abdomen caught my eye, and with some research, I believe it's a solitary wasp species now being used to fight emerald ash borer in these parts. If this is the correct ID, it's a beautiful, nonstinging insect, native to the area.



Next, I noticed a couple of tiny, ripe Blueberries (Vaccinium cultivar). Not enough for a meal, but fun to find. I haven't seen Blueberries in late autumn here before, partly because most of them were eaten earlier, and partly because this is a new plant that was a gift from friends. :)

This next observation was weird. We have a patch of low-growing dwarf Forsythias (unknown cultivar), also here when we moved in. But I've never noticed them blooming this late in the season (they generally bloom in early spring). I guess they were fooled by some late-summer cool snaps, followed by unusually warm weather in September and October.



Wild Ginger (Asarum canadense) has become one of my favorite native woodland ground covers. It is prevalent here, and I've transplanted a few patches and encouraged their growth. But I've never noticed this lightened, attractive edging on the foliage before. Perhaps it's happened and I simply didn't notice it? Only a few of the plants back in the woodland show this pattern.

Finally, here's a cute little nest, nestled among climbing vines at the top of the arbor. I think it's a wren's nest because of its tiny size, shape, and structure. I first noticed it earlier in the summer, but I've never seen a nest in this particular spot before. It seems especially precious surrounded by the intermingling autumn Oak and Rose foliage. I wonder if the wrens will return to use it again next year?

I'm linking in with "Six on Saturday" over at Garden Ruminations. Head on over to check out observations from other gardeners around the world!