By Lori Chips    

There is a relatively unknown way to grow alpines in tufa. It is brand new and takes a little work as far as projects go, but the initial results have been just short of astonishing. I attended a workshop on this new method, on a beautiful fall day in the Berkshire hills a couple of seasons ago. The setting was certainly idyllic, and the people attending were some of the most advanced alpine growers in our region. Irene and Harvey Wrightman (of Wrightman Alpines) conducted us through the steps, and Rod Zander, an expert with stone, helped us all by splitting the tufa we worked with into "slices." From what I watched of the splitting, (and later unsuccessfully tried) it takes a particular kind of tufa and a very skilled hand.

Next we were taught to mix up Cedar Heights Airfloated Clay (a potters clay, available at Sheffield Pottery in Massachusetts, manufactured by Resco Products, Inc., Pittsburgh, PA) with a judicious amount of water and some minerals. The Wrightmans use Spanish River carbonatite, but greensand also works. We stirred it all up until it was the consistency of a spreadable paste, close, but not quite as stiff, as peanut butter.

We had on hand tiny, baby plants; there were pretty choice alpines like Androsaces and the smaller silver saxifrages. The roots of these plants were shaken almost free of soil.

A cement trowel was used to "butter" one slice of tufa with the clay mixture, and a plant or two or three were placed with their crowns just inside the rock edge. The roots were left to be embedded in the clay. These were then "sandwiched" with another thin slice of tufa. This could be continued for however many "deckered" a sandwich we wanted to create. People used five, six, even seven slices of rock. Part of the trick was to make the crevices where the plants went relatively narrow.   

We found out later that skinnier crevices do not erode as much over the winter. These big, chunky "sandwiches" were then settled into a trough or other appropriate container. Some people even set them in place as they worked, slab by slab. As all of this was going on, you could almost hear the concentration. All of these grown-up, experienced rock gardeners were so immersed in what they were doing, it was like watching children deeply engaged in a favorite art project.

The crevices can be placed upright, perpendicular to the ground, facing the sky, or they can be tilted at an angle. The utterly cool thing about this? As I walked among the participants hard at work, I saw that no two pieces were even remotely alike. Every piece was sound, and beautiful and intricate. Each piece had somehow instantly accrued a character and venerability. Stepping back from my own piece I said to myself "Did I just make this?"

Now, with more than a full season behind it, including a hot dry summer and at least one "real" winter, I have to say things are holding up pretty well. The mix of clay, not being fired, never quite hardens. One can avert erosion by pressing chips and flakes of tufa or other stone into the gaps. Once plants have filled out there will be less washing out, anyway, as both the plant roots will hold the mix and the foliage will nicely shed the rain. By the end of the winter I had lost only one plant, and that one had been really too large of a specimen. I had covered it, but I had not bare rooted it; I had to squash it pretty flat. So, all in all, I don't count that as a failure of the method.

It's true that the sandwiches can come apart. I think the trouble begins when one thinks of the clay as mortar holding a wall together. When building these pieces, it is important to realize that the clay is only a "binder" in that it holds better than plain soil. It is not Gorilla Glue. One must construct the architecture of the sandwiches soundly and place them in their trough in a balanced way. I found that, if I wedge the entire piece in its container, and effectively brace it with chinks of smaller stone, then it is not going to go anywhere. And, from what I have seen so far, I believe this technique may be a way to increase survival of many of the more difficult high alpines. Is this an involved project? I have to say, of course it is. Will I be doing this project again? Of course I will!

2012 Peonies... A Paean of Praise   

By Melanie Fox 

As I looked at the title of my article in draft, it struck me that, given the star power in this perennial group, 2012 was not such an outrageous number! We are not quite offering 2012 different peonies, but it is difficult for me to find my "off button" when contemplating the staggering array of gorgeous peonies available to us today. The peony has a well-earned mystique and longevity in the classic perennial border; some varieties still in production date back to the early 1900s. Their popularity and versatility of flower form have earned them rights to real estate in cutting gardens or as single genus borders. People who like peonies tend to become collectors, space permitting; we sniff, cut, and admire them almost to the point of intoxication! The flowering period (May-June) seems to announce that first sultry summer kiss with opulent abandon. Peonies are long lived, and given correct siting, are relatively trouble free plants which will provide a dazzling display in our perennial beds, and beautiful bouquets in the home. 

Culturally, peonies flourish in a wide variety of well-drained soils although a slightly acid soil is best. They perform best in full sun, although they do remarkably well in partial shade. Give them adequate air circulation and a bit of time for them to mature into beautiful specimens which can rival small flowering shrubs. Old garden wisdom advises us to dig a "twenty-year hole" when planting a new peony, which alludes to the growth the plant will go through (mature peonies often occupy a 3-foot-by- 3-foot space), its longevity, and the fact that peonies dislike being moved. Peonies range in height from diminutive rock garden types of 12 to 18 inches to statuesque beauties of 48 inches which can grace the back of our borders. Flower colors are a parade of purest white, blush shades, all tones of pink to burgundy, coral and now soft yellow. Alas, no "true blue" peony exists, unless we consider the sentimental appeal of these beautiful flowers which remind us of old farm homesteads, picking a bouquet in our grandmother's garden, or perhaps the friend who generously shared a division of a treasured variety. The flowering time is described as early-, mid-, and late-season, and spans late April (for some rock garden types) to the end of June, the month most associated with peony bloom. Thoughtful planning can give us a solid two months of floral extravaganza!

How and why does someone pick one over the other? What are desirable attributes?

Attributes can be subjective, but most of us strive to prolong flowering period with strong stemmed floriferous plants, some of which may also be fragrant. So, we consider: bloom time, color, height, foliage, vigor, and flower type.

Flower type... what am I talking about? Aren't they all peonies?! Well, yes, but herbaceous (bush) peonies are classified by petal arrangements as fully double (Bomb), the most familiar peony image, semi-double, Japanese (two sets of petals) and Anemone, and single. Am I conveying what a delightfully difficult task I have every summer selecting our next year's peony offerings?! Just to further complicate my delicious dilemma, we sell tree peonies and intersectional peonies (hybrids of herbaceous and tree peonies) in addition to our herbaceous types. Given the depth of the subject matter, I have restrained this article to herbaceous varieties, and will save intersectional and tree peonies for the next newsletter. I heard that sigh of relief. "I dodged that deluge of information and opinion," you're saying! All right then. On to the good stuff. What is in our peony goody bag for 2012?