My compact form of Senecio/Brachyglottis greyi is now shining forth in bloom. And this is after getting frequently trimmed for size to keep it off the manzanita. I love it in the nubby pearly bud stage, which lasts a while, but have no quarrel with the yellow daisy stage either. For me summer and yellow are inseparable.
I’ve read that the yellow daisies are considered a drawback, and some opt to shear them off. And that’s cool. I’ve pulled out flourishing plants whose color I just couldn’t wake up to another morning.
Bees are drawn to yellow flowers, while the color seems to set some people on edge. Maybe there’s a linkage there: instinctive fear of getting stung? Perhaps people find it a bit on the common, lowbrow side of the color spectrum. After all, yellow is one of the most common flower colors of weeds. The bee’s survival depends on honing in on yellow; in the garden, we have the luxury to indulge personal aesthetics. (And aesthetics haven’t always been a personal choice. In medieval times, “sumptuary laws” prescribed fabric colors based on rank and were enforced by punishment.).
Manipulating plants like shearing off flowers sounds so unnatural, but hey that’s horticulture. Every volunteer seedling we pull or allow to grow, what we deadhead or allow to set seed. Topiary, pollarding, pleaching, grafting, hedging. Training vines through shrubs, etc (this year it’s rhodochiton again, Cobaea scandens, and Jerry’s Tropaeoleum tuberosum.).
Just this morning I limbed up the little ‘Sunset’ manzanita in the stock tank to keep it off the phlomis in the ground below. It was past time to reveal that sexy burgundy armature anyway. And speaking of phlomis, that’s another one that gets a bad rap for its yellow flowers.
Making a garden is a glorious, ruthless business, full of color disputes and rancorous opinions. More please!
Have a great week. We’re hoping for less firework activity so Billie catches a break and gets a good night’s sleep. We hiked that little dog 3 miles yesterday around Soapstone Lake — she needs her rest! More soon, AGO
Great post. People do have very strong opinions on colours in the garden. Many times have I heard no orange/yellow/red please when designing a planting. For me colours represent the seasons and the type of light: lemony yellow, peaches and soft pinks look wonderful in the misty light of Spring but are completely washed out in strong summer and Fall light. For then, it’s bring on bright and brash. Go out in style before the winter browns arrive.
“Controversial” isn’t a word I use to describe color. I rather like or dislike color combinations and that’s only until I see it done particularly well in someone’s garden. Then I shamelessly change my mind and try to copy it. Many plants like your Senecio greyi have a moment in time when they look their best: maybe when just in bud or when in full bloom. Either way, they constantly change how they look in mingle with the plants around them. Your senecio is lovely throughout its stages in fits in very well with the plants around it.
We tinker with the ever-changing garden canvas, with moderate (any?) level of control. Like when editing out the pink (Diascia personata).
Your penstemons are fabulous.
I’m not offended by colors in the garden, and was surprised to hear orange was offensive. You’re right, limbing, chopping or shearing it’s all part of the game!
@Elaine, so true about colors representing the seasons and applicable to pollinators active at the time. Such a vast topic.
@Chavli, to me that’s one of the really exciting things, how plants change and look across the seasons and in relation to what’s planted around them. It’s a kind of “community organizer” approach to gardens!
@Tracy, I can’t imagine eliminating orange! I rarely include a tomato red color and lean more blue-red for sure.
For me it’s not the fact the flowers of Brachyglottis greyi are yellow, it’s that they just make the whole plant look dingy and sick. Maybe it’s the form, or the shade of yellow with the silver/grey? After growing Brachyglottis greyi for years I’m without now. One just up and died (I think not enough water, it was in the front garden) and I took the second out because it was just so woody and leggy. Change is the only constant in the garden!
@DG where you see dingy and sick I see bright effervescence — what a hoot. Maybe all the cutting back it’s getting will keep the legginess at bay.