Summer is coming
Actually, the kniphofia don’t smell as far as I can tell. But even without a smell, my one plant on the rocky slope of my backyard has been a perky signal that Spring is turning into Summer nearly all of the years in my new house. Kniphofia weren’t common in my coastal SoCal neighborhood and I had never grown them before. They are native to South Africa and grow well with other plants from Mediterranean climates. I thought that their spiky flowers weren’t attractive and planted things I found prettier.
Give it a try
In NoCal I am more open. I tried one and it has been a faithful performer ever since. It doesn’t mind the rocks and has never been put on the drip lines. Every year it makes a bold display of spikes colored like candy corn. This variety is supposed to rebloom later in Summer but mine never has. Perhaps some irrigation would make a difference but I can’t be bothered. If it is happy now, why risk upsetting it.
Success and then failure
Depute my success with this kniphofia, my other attempts have failed. I planted two in the beds around the lawn but neither survived the first winter. While I am happy with my one original plant, I wonder about kniphofia in general. What explains my early success and recent failures? Did I pick the one variety suited for my garden or was it just beginners luck? Was I more tender with the first plant and careless with the others? I don’t know.
Three strikes and you’re out
I don’t think that I will ever find out. As plants fail me by not returning for a second year, I become reluctant to give them a second chance. The wild exuberance of my first years in the new garden is now resigned acceptance of the limits imposed by the climate and the rocky ground. I have learned not to believe that every plant recommended for my climate will grow and thrive. I stick with the proven winners and I plant more. Examples are daffodils, iris and roses. Early on, I expected kniphofia to be one of the winners. I expected to see waves of spiky, succulent foliage and colorful flower stalks around my yard. I still enjoy my first one when it returns each year. But I won’t try any more. In my yard, it’s three strikes and you’re out.
What growing zone are you in there, Ralph? This neck of the woods is a 4, but borders on a 3, so things get interesting. I’m like you when it comes to not giving plants a second chance. I figure they had their place and their time, and now someone else gets their spot 🙂
.-= Jean Sarauer´s last blog ..The True Story Behind Virgin Blogger Note’s New Look =-.
We are 9 but it can freeze like it did last December. I don’t have time for second changes.
.-= ralph´s last blog ..Wake up and smell the – Kniphofia =-.
I do the same thing: I’ll try whatever, if it dies, wasn’t meant to be.
And now I know what those are called. They are everywhere down here around the Bay.
.-= Dave Doolin´s last blog ..Estimated Reading Time Plugin : Sharpening the stick (technical tuesday) =-.
Glad to be of service.
.-= ralph´s last blog ..Wake up and smell the – Kniphofia =-.