Plant Lover's Guide

Snowdrops have a delicate, quiet beauty. Their white bell-shaped petals are striking alone and in a swath, and they are a harbinger of spring. The Plant Lover's Guide to Snowdrops is the first book to make this group of bulbs accessible to the home gardener. It features profiles of 60 hybrids, species, and cultivars, with information on flowering time, distinguishing features, and ease of cultivation. It addition, it shows how to design with snowdrops, and how to grow and propagate them, also offering tips on where to see snowdrops in public gardens and where to buy them. Each Plant Lover's Guide in the series is supported by lush, photo-driven design, featuring the most beloved plants and valued expertise of the gardening world in a visual, comprehensive resource. In the tradition of creating a valuable library of beautiful, plant-driven books, Timber Press's series of Plant Lover's Guides are packed with trusted information alongside lush, full-color photography. This guide is perfect for beginning and expert home gardeners who want to celebrate the beauty of snowdrops.  Naomi Slade is a horticultural journalist, avid gardener, and trained biologist. She has been honored in the namesake of the Galanthus reginae-olgae 'Naomi Slade,' bred by renowned plantsman, Joe Sharman. She blogs at naomislade-electricgreen.blogspot.com.  Introduction: Why I Love Snowdrops I have always had a soft spot for snowdrops. I spent much of my childhood in west Wales, where winters are unfailingly cold and damp, and by the beginning of the new year the landscape is a palette of soft taupe punctuated by flashes of defiant green from the moss and ivy and grey from lichen. The grass stems are bleached to fawn and bare hedgerows are rendered brown. In February, precious little is in flower, but each year, on Valentine's Day, I would gather a little posy of snowdrops to give to my mother. It was a mystery to me why these ones, planted by my grandmother at the end of the garden, flowered before the massed snowdrops in the orchard, but there I knew they would always be, pearly heads pushing through the blanket of soggy grass-brave, sturdy, and reliable.      Slipping into the chilly dawn in wellies and pyjamas in search of an innocent gift, I had no inkling of the passion that this little flower can inspire. But many years and many botanical love affairs later, I paid a February visit to Deborah Puxley, who owns Welford Park in Berkshire, an estate famous for its acres of snowdrops. I walked at sunrise in the quiet woods, empty but for a million snowdrops spreading out as far as the eye could see, and then drank coffee as visitors rolled in and Debby enthused about the festal open-day atmosphere.     The following October I found myself interviewing esteemed botanist John Grimshaw, who was, at the time, "Mr Snowdrop" at Colesbourne Park, where some 250 cultivars are planted. He is a true snowdrop fanatic: even his teacups are decorated with named varieties. In the indoor gloom, he painted glorious, vivid pictures of creatures that I had yet to meet. He gave me a history lesson, debated conservation and botany with passion and intensity, and threw a little controversy into the mix for good measure. We then went outside to look at Galanthus reginae-olgae, which was just coming into flower, and which in autumn was so wrong. And so right. And so amazing. All at once.      I was hooked. Visiting snowdrop gardens has recently become an essential part of the British calendar. Europe is not far behind and interest is building in North America, too. As the first high-impact flowers of spring, snowdrops have an enormous pull for a public eager for a spectacle and keen to get outdoors after the dark days of winter. By the end of January, in England, the general populace is suffering from cabin fever, and even those who are not serious gardeners can be found enjoying a rare day out. In their le

Sedums are most popular flowering succulent. They range from groundcovers to large border perennials and are often included in green roof and vertical garden design because of their visual interest and drought tolerance. Sedums changes dramatically with the seasons-in fall, they are rich and earthy while in summer their flowers come in vibrant shades of pink and yellow. The Plant Lover's Guide to Sedums includes everything you need to know about these beautiful gems. Plant profiles highlight 150 of the best varieties to grow, with information on zones, plant size, soil and light needs, origin, and how they are used in the landscape. Additional information includes designing with sedums, understanding sedums, growing and propagating, where to buy them, and where to see them in public gardens. Brent Horvath, president and grower at Intrinsic Perennial Gardens, Inc., is a third-generation gardener, second-generation nurseryman, and first-generation American. He has a BS from Oregon State University, and has continued plant selection and hybridizing work in a wide variety of genera. Horvath has developed over 100 new perennials, and holds over 35 plant patents.

Tulips are one of the most popular spring-flowering bulbs. Available in a huge range of colors and in a wide array of shapes, they're a mainstay of most spring gardens. They are the focus of festivals worldwide and are a sure sign spring is on the way. The Plant Lover's Guide to Tulips, by Richard Wilford of the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, profiles 100 commonly available species and cultivars, and features growing information, recommendations for companion plants, and tips on how to use tulips in the landscape. More than 250 color photographs bring these colorful gems to life. In the tradition of creating a valuable library of beautiful, plant-driven books, Timber Press's series of Plant Lover's Guides are packed with trusted information alongside lush, full-color photography. This guide is perfect for beginning and expert home gardeners who want to celebrate the beauty of tulips. Richard Wilford is the collections manager for the Hardy Display section at the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew. He has a particular interest in bulbs and is a member of the Royal Horticultural Society's Bulb Committee (formally the Daffodil and Tulip Committee). He writes for Kew Magazine and Garden Illustrated among others, and serves on the Publications Committee for Kew Publishing and the editorial committees of Kew Magazine and Curtis's Botanical Magazine. This is his fourth book, all of them illustrated extensively with his photos. Introduction: Why I Love Tulips How can you not love a perfect display of bright, pristine tulips, basking in the warmth of the spring sunshine? The richness of their colours and the variety of their flower shapes make tulips endlessly fascinating. It may not be love at first sight, but the allure of these plants will creep up on you and before you know it, you are seeking out new varieties, experimenting with different colour combinations, and finding new places to try tulips in your garden. I first started paying attention to tulips when I was looking after the bulb collections at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. One of the cold frames was home to a collection of tulip species growing in clay pots. I watered them, repotted them every autumn, and put them out on display when they flowered, as I did with all the other bulbs. Not until I saw a tulip growing in the wild, however, did I really start to take more notice. It was on the Mediterranean island of Crete that I saw my first wild tulip. It was tiny-a delicate, pale pink flower, almost white, held on a short stem above two narrow leaves. Its name was Tulipa cretica and it seemed to be growing straight out of a rock, surviving on the bare minimum of soil. The Cretan summer is long, hot, and dry, yet this little plant was going to live through it until the autumn rains arrived. It could do this because it grows from a bulb, and before the summer hit, it would retreat back to that bulb, hidden from the sun and needing no water. What seemed so remarkable to me was how this miniscule flower was related to the showy bedding tulips I was used to seeing in parks and gardens. I saw other tulips on Crete that were larger and more brightly coloured, such as the pink-and-yellow Tulipa saxatilis, growing on the cliffs of a gorge or scattered through high-altitude meadows, but still they seemed remote from the garden tulips back home, which I found intriguing. I was beginning to fall for them. Another turning point was a visit to Keukenhof in the Netherlands a few years later. This garden is devoted to bulbs, and in mid to late spring, it is the tulips that steal the show, and they really do put on a show. It is almost too much. There must be thousands and thousands of tulips all flowering at once. As you turn each corner, another stunning display confronts you. My experience at Keukenhof was the complete opposite of my encounter with the tiny tulip on Crete. Up to that point, I had been dismissive of tulips in bed.