English

PELARGONIUMS

I TRY NOT to look visibly shaken when huge clots of snow go thundering down the greenhouse glass and land with a reverberating thud down below. I try to take in stride the three-foot drift out the back door. After all, I’ve got to keep up appearances for Einstein. So I focus on the geranium that persists in blooming its little heart out on the warm side of the panes. Judging from the howl of the wind, the power might go off at any moment. We lost it for nine hours last week. Fearing for the orchids and begonias, I shuffled them into the warmest canyons of my office. But there was one plant that was not on my worry list: the pelargonium. Even if the thermometer tottered precariously near the freezing mark, the pelargonium would be just fine.

Not only will it survive, but the steady roll of blossoms will not miss a beat. The beauty of pelargoniums is that they are impervious. If you’re hitting a blank when I use the term “pelargonium,” it’s understandable. You undoubtedly will be more comfortable with the more commonly used name of geranium. Most popular are the zonal geraniums, those much-adored, almost clichéd houseplants with a history that stretches back to the first rustlings of indoor gardening in this country. Zonal geraniums are indomitable. Although they perform their stunts most impressively in a bright window, these plants will soldier on with less light. True, the growth will become lanky. And yes, the flower colors will not be as vibrant. But if all you have is an east or west window (even an obstructed east or west window), go for it. And when I said that pelargoniums would withstand nippy temperatures, I should also mention that they will withstand dry heat just as stoically. Few plants are as cheerful as a geranium.

Everyone knows that zonal geraniums blossom in summer (think Memorial Day plant sales). But their winter escapades are not so well publicized. Since they root like weeds with no fancy propagation systems necessary, it is no challenge to tuck a slip into a pot and bring it indoors. For your foresight, you have a plant that will probably continue blooming throughout the entire winter without missing a beat.

What I love about geraniums, Gertrude Jekyll, that nineteenth- and early twentieth-century legendary gardener, designer, artist, writer, and trendsetter, reputedly hated. She disliked the unmitigated magenta blossoms that I hold dear. But magenta is just the tip of the iceberg. Zonal geraniums also come in white, pink, and scarlet. There are singles with open-face, five-petaled flowers and doubles that mimic rosebuds. They are borne in clusters, like round lollipops. And an umbel can continue its dance over an extended period of time while the blossoms slowly open, linger, and then fade to form the signature cranesbill-shaped seeds that prevail throughout the family. Also readily available are fancy leaf varieties, such as ‘Crystal Palace Gem’, an heirloom with two-tone apple-green and forest-green leaves.

In a home environment, you will find plenty of opportunity to wield pruners when it comes to pelargoniums. Like cane begonias, they form woody, unsightly, almost arthritic-looking stems that are best minimized in favor of new, spritely, green growth. They are rarely self-branching, and need the stimulus of pinching to send the message to make side shoots down the stem. Never fear that you will be curtailing blossoms. The beat goes on, no matter how much pinching and clipping you’ve applied. You do not want to fertilize pelargoniums during the dark days of winter. With fertilizer, they will form stems fatter than your index finger. And who needs that? Lean is wiser.

Pelargoniums can endure without water for a while, but their survival tactic is to lose foliage. Dry soil will lead to yellowing leaves almost immediately.

And from yellow it goes downhill to brown. Because pelargoniums do not shed their browned leaves hastily, the ugly evidence of your neglect remains as an eyesore for all the world to witness.

The stellar pelargoniums are an amusing spin on the familiar theme. Generally much more compact in growth habit than a standard-size zonal geranium, they have intriguing fingered foliage crowned with an endless supply of small flower umbels. The blossoms have the same color range, but they tend to be smaller than the zonals while sporting pointed and notched petals. They prefer more light, and pout when deprived of a south-facing window.

I am a confessed sucker for the scented-leaf geraniums. My favorite is ‘Nutmeg’ or its progeny, ‘Old Spice’ or ‘Logeei’. The scent is a homey combination of spice, apple, and rum, which acts like an olfactory version of comfort food for me. But the growth habit is the clincher. ‘Nutmeg’ and its kin form whorls of leaves and can be coaxed to take a prostrate stance. Full-grown, lush, and lovely, with bluish-gray leaves and little white flowers that almost go unnoticed, this group only stands a couple of feet in diameter. Plus, they are easy as pie in a south window. Compare that to ‘Peppermint’, which can grow up to your shoulders and gropes toward the glass even in a sunny window in winter. Also, the lemon-scented group, Pelargonium crispum, is notoriously prone to fungal infections and generally melts when not grown in a bright greenhouse. However, the rose-scented group is more accommodating, especially ‘Little Gem’, a compact rose hybrid with pert, frequent red flowers. Great flowers, tidy form, easily grown, and headily scented. Sounds like the best of all worlds, no?

• ALSO CALLED: cranesbill, zonal geranium