Reading My Life With Plants, an autobiographical reminiscence by Roy Lancaster, I was taken aback when I read about his first encounter with Gentiana lutea. Seems he had been accompanying a group of fellow botanists, grounds-keepers, gardeners and horticulturists on a visit to one of the too many magnificent English gardens abandoned and neglected for far too many years. Despite the passage of time he could still recall with joy entering what had once been the croquet lawn of an old estate, one of so many in England that went from employing a gardening staff of 100 to perhaps two, after the ‘Great War’.
So, what’s this got to do with me in 2024? Well, over the years I have, among several other demanding interests, actively immersed myself in the botanical/horticultural/gardening/plant propagation/hybridizing world. I’ve passed through many phases over the past sixty plus years, or rather I have spent more time with one genus over another for varying lengths of time. Heathers and Heaths occupied me for a year or two (the heather bed, virtually abandoned now, still grows vigorously, though I doubt I could find or name more than a few of the 100 plus varieties I once tended), then I went on to species roses, and the hybrids. Then the genus Rhododendron seemed to possess me, and occupied much of my time for a few years, only to be replaced by dwarf Conifers. I was spreading myself quite thin and wished there were more of me. I cultivated several penstemon beds and two mini bog gardens and then there was the rock garden, or gardens. I joined most of the societies devoted to promoting interest in these various plant groups. I joined The Heather Society, The Primrose Society, the Conifer Society, The North American Rock Garden Society, The American Hosta Society, The North American Lily Society, and I might have joined The American Avocado Society if one was available. I devoured their journals in a state of bliss, but the main reasons for joining was to have access to their annual seed exchanges. This is where seeds of hundreds of varieties unavailable and virtually unheard of in the commercial market place could be found. Treasures to make even King Midas’s fingers itch. I grew (continue to grow, though not quite as extravagantly) dozens of new plants every year, and despite my best efforts to keep timely and accurate records I loose track of too many seedlings.
So.
Late last summer as I was working/enjoying myself in what I call the 'Tea-house Garden' I noticed two tall, bright yellow flowers in a nearby bed. At first I thought they were perhaps Verbascum thapsus, a mullein, or even Phlomis fruticosa, the Jerusalem Sage, of which we have several, but there was something different about these plants. I sheathed my Hori and investigated. Clearing the area around their base I discovered an old ‘Venetian blind’ aluminum plant tag. Gentiana lutea is what I had scratched on it, but no planting date.
They very well could have bloomed in previous years without my taking notice, though unlikely. Anyway, with the tag I was able to go to my records and notebooks and eventually find a brief history of the plants. I received the seeds, #1050, in the fall of 2017 from NARGS (North American Rock Garden Society). They were planted in a small pot on February 2nd and put in the refrigerator. They were taken out on May 3rd and only five days later six seeds germinated. They were eventually transplanted to a large six-cell plant tray. Three survived and were eventually planted out on May 5, 2018.
I find it hard to believe they took six years to bloom, but I find it equally difficult to think they had been blooming for a few years without my noticing. And now I realize I didn’t take any photographs! One person can only do or see so much I suppose. Still. . .
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