Off with their Heads!

It’s 7 a.m. on a steamy July morning.  Dragging myself out of my ’76 Caprice Classic, I join a crew of sleepy teenagers congregating in the work shed, stamping their time cards and slathering on sunscreen.  We trudge through the wet grass toward a mist-laden field like a silent army: a horticultural special forces unit, if you will.  Faded blooms break off as I move along the row, gathering them.  Five minutes into the task, my hands are red, orange and purple, dyed with the stain of a beautiful yesterday.  It’s daylily season at Hornbaker Gardens.

If you’re unfamiliar with daylilies (Hemerocallis sp.), you don’t have to wander far to find them.  Their hardy nature has launched them into every landscaper’s repertoire.  Mainstays, like 'Stella d’Oro' and 'Happy Returns', are planted with such regularity that we ought to nominate them to be the new State Flower.  They are, simply put, lily-flowers popping out of grassy foliage. 

Daylilies are billed as low-maintenance perennials, and they can be.  If you ignore them, they’ll grow and bloom in spite of you.  But a wee bit of effort – and believe me it is a cathartic experience for deadheader and daylily alike – will reap results worthy of the expenditure. 

The concept behind deadheading is more than just removing that which is unsightly.  It's about building the plant.  At the base of each blossom lies an ovary.  Once the flower fades, the ovary begins to grow and form a seed pod.  On a daylily, seed pods do two things well: they look unattractive and they suck resources from the plant.  So the simple act of snapping dead blooms off nips this waste in the bud….literally.  Next year’s crop will get a boost of resources from the extra nutrients stored in the tubers (roots).  Translation: more blooms and larger plants next year.

Isn’t that what we all want?  But more than just the promise of a better year to come, we have a better day to enjoy.  Deadheading is like making one’s bed.  Will it be undone again in the morning?  Of course, but it sets the tone for the day, and fills the garden with beauty.  So get out there and trudge through the misty morn.  You'll be glad you did.  

Divorcing my Daylilies

When you buy a home, you inherit the yard as well, whether you want to or not.  What was passed down to me was a foundation planting that consisted of Rosy Glow Barberry and Wild Daylilies.  They alternated, like an unfortunate game of leap-frog, all the way around the perimeter of my house.   If you are unfamiliar with either of these selections, let me make some introductions. 

Rosy Glow Barberry is a thorny shrub with burgundy foliage.  Its color, accented with random pink striations, is coveted amongst landscaping plants.  But they're not really 'the plant' for a 3-foot-deep foundation bed.  Rosy Glow needs room to sprawl a bit and requires facer plants to cover it's leggy base.  The plant's prickles are formidable, as noted by it's name "Barb-berry", which reminds me of barb-wire, another element I'd rather not have in my front landscape. 

Wild Daylilies are not to be confused with Hybridized Daylilies.  They are, of course, closely related.  But the hybrids, with their rainbow of colors, have genteel manners and the wilds have none a’tall.  My goodness, I’m jaded.  The truth is, there is a place for wild daylilies.  Their tiger-orange flowers are lovely and I enjoy seeing them along rural roadsides and at the edge of ponds, but they are altogether too aggressive for a manicured landscape, which is what I desperately want my yard to be. 

One long year of hand-to-hand combat, and several pairs of leather gloves later, the Barberry battle was over.  The Daylilies, however, were more tenacious.  I've lost count of exactly when I started my Daylily Removal Efforts, but I'd say I finally got the upperhand around the 5-year-mark.  I thought victory was in sight then.

I was wrong.

Two Daylilies evaded my spade of death.  No biggie, right?  What’s two after the hundreds I had conquered?  Believe me, fellow garden warriors, these last two have challenged – nay - MOCKED my removal attempts.  The first is located inside my spirea.  It’s so far inside the spirea, that I’ve considered marketing a new species: SpireaLily. 

The other is situated ‘just so’ directly under my fence pickets, with its roots lodged in the foundation of my porch and (as if that were not enough), taking shelter beneath my Panicle Hydrangea.  It’s a horticultural triple-threat.  I suppose I could paint some Round-Up on the leaves, but that just seethes with “Poor Sport”, doesn’t it?  Over time, a worthy adversary can sometimes morph into a friend.  What would Wile E. Coyote be without the Roadrunner?  Where would Sylvester be without Tweety?  Tom without Jerry?  Unthinkable.  And so it is to be, for the daylilies and me.