Now that the Annie Schilder has come out again I’m remembering why I ordered rafts of it, three years ago. The subtle glowing-ember flames out in a changing show as the flower matures – and as an extra bonus, Annie Schilder is fragrant.
Since I’ve had a good repeat showing from these bulbs the past two years, I deduce that it’s one of the easier ones to perennialize. As most people know, it’s not always easy to perennialize tulips, especially not Triumph tulips, which Annie Schilder is. Very likely that’s because Annie Schilder is an heirloom tulip, dating from 1923, when they made things to last.
Annie Schilder’s fragrance is somewhere between the faint spring hint of Apricot Beauty and the heavy musk cloud of Generaal de Wet. You may have noticed that these fragrant tulips are all orange. There’s probably some genetic reason that scented tulips are mostly orange – and I haven’t listed them all. Prinses Irene, orange with purple flames, is another of the fragrant tulips. (I suspect the deep-orange species Tulipa whittalii in the background, but that’s just a guess.)
There are fragrant tulips which aren’t orange, and probably have different backgrounds. I collect fragrant tulips; if you’ve grown any, I’d be interested to know which ones.
Besides her scent, Annie Schilder puts on quite a visual show. OK, I know I’ve recently gone on record as saying I don’t thrill to straight-ahead yellows and oranges in my garden. (See my blog mission statement (at the bottom of the linked page) for an explanation.) But to my eyes, Annie Schilder is a little more subtle than that. She starts out a burning-embers deep orange.
As the tulip ages, the color lightens, with brushes of yellow in the orange, as in the photograph at the top of the page, and as this sunlit picture below.
The colors get more distinct as it fades and swirls out.
And now it’s time to bid goodbye to Annie Schilder for another year