Cinnamon fern

Cinnamon fern, Osmunda cinnamomea, certainly deserves its name! The fertile fronds look like they are made of ground cinnamon, adding a welcome touch of spice to a green, shady spot.

Like the other osmunda in my garden, the royal fern, the cinnamon fern develops a tough fibrous root ball that is clearly visible and makes it easy to identify. It is said to spread by rhizomes, but I certainly haven't seen any evidence of this yet. It definitely is not in the same league as ostrich ferns, which spread to the point of being invasive.

A rather strange thing happened with one of mine this year. The fertile fronds on both my cinnamon ferns, which are side by side, emerged during a prolonged period of cool, rainy weather (twice as much rain as normal), one slightly sooner than another. Under normal circumstances my fern corner does get a couple of hours of midday sun. When the rain finally stopped, we got a brief heat wave and the browning fronds wilted immediately. They just weren't used to light that intense. On the larger of the ferns, it must have caught them at a particularly vulnerable time; they have never recovered. The other came back nicely and has had little trouble since.

If you like the elegant vase shape of ostrich ferns, but would like something that keeps to its allotted space, the cinnamon fern is a great choice.

Loyal subject of the royal fern

The royal fern, also called the flowering fern, was new to me last year but I suspect we are beginning a long and happy relationship. No doubt you will find one growing in every shade garden I have the pleasure to put together in the future. It has such a lovely presence in the garden, even when it's being crowded by an enthusiastic neighbour. Just like Liz, she puts up with the local yokels with quiet dignity. I am going to move that neighbour over to the left to give her majesty a bit more room to spread though.

The name "flowering fern" comes by virtue of the fact that the fertile fronds are not entirely separate, as they are in cinnamon ferns or ostrich ferns. Rather the tips of a few select fronds develop into fertile segments, making it appear almost as if the fern were flowering. Another one of the Osmundas, claytoniana, develops its fertile segment right in the middle of the frond. Hey, every good family has a nutbar or two...

Neither one of my royal ferns developed the "flowers" last year, likely because they had been moved. I'm not sure the one I transferred into a pot a little while back will produce them this season either. This is not a fern that likes to be dug up too often. On the other hand, it will tolerate more sun than most other ferns.

All of the Osmundas form a large fibrous mass at their base, known as the osmunda. (Wonder where they got the idea for that name?) Don't even begin to think about dividing it! Unless maybe you use a chain saw. Florists apparently use it for growing certain orchids when they want a soil-less base.

Bad hair day in fern corner

A messy green tangle. Fortunately, that doesn't apply to my hair. It's gray enough now that I get offered senior discounts and seats on buses that I don't need or deserve. Gray is not cool but it's better than green.

What it does apply to is the former state of my "fern corner". They looked good as the emerged in the spring, showing off their coloured stems, but once fully unfurled they were a uniform green and the diversity of forms made for a tangle, not a contrast. Clearly something had to be done.

So I dug up the fern in front - a royal fern - and seeing as I was much too fond of it to say goodbye, I throned it in a large pot. Now I can appreciate its stately presence and lacy foliage at their just merits.

I am not an accomplished garden designer, but I do know that contrasts in colour and shape please the eye, so I looked for something that would stand out against the ferns and, at the same time, make them more noticeable. I found what I was looking for in a Sparkling Burgundy heuchera. Its decidedly purple colour and rounded, slightly ruffled leaves could not be more different from the finely cut ferns with their tender green. Even the lilies of the valley add something, with their solid patches of green. Once this heuchera has had a year or two to settle in, this corner should be exceptionally beautiful. I'd like to find some hardy cylamens to spread at their feet or, failing that, a silver splash of spotted deadnettle could do the trick.

Ferns

My latest preoccupation has been identifying a number of native ferns given to me last year (thanks Bill!). As they emerge in the spring, their differences are more strikingly obvious.

This trio shows the kind of variety that you can get.

The brown one on the left is Osmunda regalis - royal fern.

The green one to the right is Dryopteris spinulosa - spinulose shield fern.

The chartreuse one in the back is Osmunda cinnamomea - cinnamon fern.

Onoclea sensibilis - sensitive fern, is busy unfurling in an obscure spot behind my bleeding heart (hmm, I may have to move it) and adds a fourth colour to my fern palette with its decidedly reddish cast.

The sensitive fern gets its name from the fact that it is very sensitive to frost, unlike the semi-evergreen Dryopteris genus. Let us hope we get no late frosts this year!