Hydrangea Sex

 

 The bee hive is taller than it used to be....a couple new levels on it since the nectar flow really kicked in hard. Now its almost over and all that's really left is the hot and heavy going on in our tree hydrangeas. Last year I talked here about how incredibly stunning these big, fluffy glamor queens are this time of year.

 

I noticed that the flowers faded faster this year and that our bigger, healthier hive was very busy swarming in and out and jetting to the fluffy blossom masses. Turns out there's a connection. The flowers fade and "turn" once they've been all pollinated. Its very possible that with our more mature population this summer the bees polished off the nectar flow and pollen distribution faster than last year.

 Kind of fun to think about our little hive making a noticeable difference in the local pollination.

I also noticed this year for the first time the anatomy of the hydrangeas. The "blooms" we notice and ply with ph to alter and sell at a fortune to fill out bridal bouquets everywhere aren't blooms at all. They're just bracts...fakey flowers with no real sexy flower body parts. They're all for show...just billboards to attract the insects. You have to look deeper to see the real goods beyond the advertising.

 

See those little star shaped flowers starting their lives as white pearls that are hiding in the inner core of the cluster? That's where its really at. Cool eh? Botany rocks my socks.

 

 

Hydrangeas Don't Have To Be Blue

 We're getting to the end of the heady blooming season for most gardens. All that really seems to be left are the hardy, and ever optimistic black-eyed-susans. In our garden the same is true, although some previous owner left us one botanical trump card, two stunning hydrangea trees. They're not really trees...in the classical/botanical sense of things, they're shrubs, but over the years somebody worked hard to prune them into beautiful fountaining tree shapes, and with very little care on my part they're the late-season garden stars.

 I love how amazing it feels to be underneath them, the world barely visible through the emerald umbrella the arching stems. They are perfect little dream-houses, wonderful places to play on hot days when the boys are scheming up a world of secret kingdoms.

The Latin name for these hydrangeas (in case you're interested in hunting one up for your own garden corner) is H. paniculata 'Grandiflora.' I love them for being such lush, spectacle bloomers (check out those blossoms as big as my head in the shots above!), their carefree nature, sweet scent, and the way my honeybees are drunkely stumbling all over themselves to get back and forth from the blooms to their hive. Some of my sources tell me that this hydrangea which is a garden plant over 150 years old is out of vogue, and has been overdone in many gardens. I say, baloney! You can't overdo the classic plants, and the only thing it could do to impress me more would be produce fruit. I'm a wild fan.

 The blossoms are positively humming with visitors, tiny butterflies, shimmering irridescent flies and of course the girls from our hive, I even saw a ladybug there, doubtless eating some less fortunate visitors.

I am thinking about trying to dry some of the blossoms this year and hoping for some kind of artful arrangement. I love the delicate, papery way they can end up, like a million tiny wings. See here, here and here for examples of what I'm dreaming of. I could do that, right?

Related articles

• Different Types of Hydrangea (homeandgardenideas.com)
• Flowers 101: Hydrangeas (casasugar.com)
• How to Dry Hydrangeas (homeandgardenideas.com)
• Hydrangea paniculata 'Great Star' (allandrewsplants.wordpress.com)
• Flowers That Bloom Later In Summer (mydecorarticles.com)