I wouldn’t classify Q as a “tree-hugger” but he sure does love both flora and fauna; that’s a real blessing for me… most of the time.  But some times he can be a real pain.  Like the other day when I took Q out… not on a date but for my morning constitutional.  I knew I was in trouble when he took his camera along (since I’m shooting for canine recluse status that camera makes me nervous).  When that camera accompanies us I’m either in for a photo op or for a long period of doing nothing.  But with spring finally here Q only wanted pictures of some of what he calls his “interesting” plants in early bloom.  And actually, some of them are pretty interesting.

While not real interesting, I particularly enjoy the aster.  When it fills out later in the spring I like to walk Q by the plant and munch on the leaves.  I can’t figure out why he doesn’t like it when I do that, but it has something to do with warding off Japanese beetles (or so he says).

Just past the aster is something I really do need to be careful of; it’s Q’s hardy orange tree, Poncirus trifoliata.  It’s just starting to bloom and there are quite a few flowers on it.  There are also some really nasty looking spines (thorns) on it.  M gave it to him and Q told me he got really scratched up digging it out of its old garden and putting it into ours but when fruit began to grow on it Q said it was well worth it.  You could poke your eyes out with this plant!  (Garden Groans has a tale to tell about rescuing the hardy orange. It wasn't pretty!)

A little further on is a shrub that Q really loves.  He told me that he purchased it at a local nursery that specializes in indigenous plants.  It’s a native Witch Hazel.  It’s also the only plant that Q can remember the entire Latin name.  I’m just a dog so I’m not going there, but it’s something like hammers and Virginia.  (Oh, okay!  Hamamelis virginiana).  It’s been in the yard for three years and hasn’t done much more than grow (it has flowered but no noticeable fruit).  But it’s a cute shrub; finch and sparrows perch on it all year long (much to Q’s delight).

I generally walk Q by a lot of other stuff up to a little rise on the property line.  There is what I think is Q’s most interesting plant… Bloodroot.  Q says that the Delaware Indians who lived in the area (the Unami) used the reddish-orange juice as ceremonial paint.  Q says that the Unami creek is not far from where we live.  This was all too much for me so I asked him how he knew this.  Q said that when he was about 12 years old, living in the asphalt jungles of South Philadelphia, he was a Boy Scout and spent a week at a summer camp along the Unami creek.  While on an educational nature hike the counselor told him.  Q said that on another camping trip at the Breyers Training Area (that use to be near here, too, but it doesn’t exist any more).  Anyway, bless the Boy Scouts of America!

That’s it for now… nature’s calling me and I’m calling Q!

Willie

P.S.  I’ve lived with this guy you’re calling Q for two years now and I nobody here calls him Q.  With all due respect to Ian Fleming, what’s this Q stuff?

Well, Wills, I'm not going to take the time to answer that question. It will remain a secret between Q and Garden Groans! I will tell you that your other two uncles will be referred to on this blog as M (Q's younger brother) and Mother (Q's brother by marriage). But I will show our readers a few more photos of plants you might have seen on your walk. Below, from left to right are pictures of Coltsfoot, another wildflower with medicinal properties; Common Violets; and emerging Japanese Maple leaves:

Wilburforce will have more to share as the 2010 gardening season progresses.

Madam L is unimpressed!

I will venture to say after another early April day with temperatures in the high 80 F degrees that spring is well under way. While a chilly day now and again is likely, it’s doubtful we will get much more snow and ice. Many neighbors are on their second cutting of the Sacred Sward. Landscapers are applying decorative mulch over barren flowerbeds and cabbageworm butterflies are on broccoli search and destroy missions.

The local birds are nest building. In fact I watched a female cardinal perch on my fence rail with a few grass blades in her beak. She hesitated, then dropped the grass and nipped over to the picnic table feeder for a bite. According to Stan Tekiela in his field guide Birds of Pennsylvania, while the male cardinal sits on one clutch, his mate begins to build a second nest for the next one. I guess our ladybird earned her snack. Both birds and squirrels continue to visit the feeders with the suet block being popular with a variety of woodpecker species. The squirrels can’t resist the glob of fat either. Most female grey squirrels have babies tucked away in nursery nests. I often see them taking breaks, sitting in the trees near the nests.

 

Behind my house is the rotting trunk of a Weeping Willow tree, Salix babylonica. A few seasons ago I convinced “The Boss” it would be a good idea economically, as well as ecologically (that argument rarely holds water on its own!), to leave the main trunk standing after the branches were removed. Our arborist, a back to nature type, was easier to persuade, though his apprentice gave me a dismal look. Finally after much pointing and head shaking everyone was on board. The Tree Man decided he would leave behind some of the large branches to use as borders for paths, paths now overrun with marsh marigolds.

Dead trees maintaining an upright position are called snags. Below are photos of my snag and two others. Snags are things of wonder, providing shelter and food for a host of wildlife including, but not limited to woodpeckers, owls, squirrels, raccoons and bats. Squirrels and bats will use them as sleeping accommodations when foraging late makes travel home difficult. Hawks use them as dining platforms and a multitude of fungus live out countless generations on the moldering wood.

   

One of the best ways to attract wildlife is to provide cover in the form of a snag or a woodpile. Rather than having a pristine, neat lawn consider leaving a mess; a pile of rocks or brush for chipmunks, mice, turtles, toads, and yes even snakes. Woodpiles attract foxes, turkeys and wrens. An overgrown hedgerow is a paradise for birds providing food, shelter from elements, and protection from predators. Even a formal garden can have a bit of wilderness tucked away in the back behind a few shrubs. It does wonders for the environment if we don’t behave as though every bit of organic matter must be raked, swept up and bagged for the trash haulers to take away to landfills or worse to dump in the ocean. What a waste! Better to encourage a wide array of animal and plant species. It’s good for them if we maintain as much of the local environment as possible. It’s better for us from an ecological standpoint. Our gardens benefit from a diverse community of fellow creatures. Pests are better controlled by predators than by chemicals. But there are economical benefits too. It’s expensive to buy plastic trash bags for organic material to be hauled away by gas guzzling trucks. Finding places to dump all sorts of rubbish is increasingly difficult. Cleaning up a toxic environment costs more and uses more resources than leaving twigs, leaves and even old trees to molder. 

    

Madam L on the lookout for Squirrels!                                          Young Madam L finding a snag full of squirrels.

Winter Turns to Summer

A screened in back porch is my retreat when the atmosphere in the house turns hot and stuffy. Within a few short days Summer has enveloped Southeastern Pennsylvania in bright, unrelieved sunlight and near 90 F degree temperatures. With a hot, dry wind blowing and little shade, many birds and squirrels and I are seeking what cooling cover we can find.  The trees, taken by surprise, have pushed few leaves from their buds, though they are rapidly remedying that glitch.  Madam Lasagna is prostrate on the concrete exhausted from chasing after carpenter bees. She hates their aimless buzzing about.

A drive yesterday revealed a wealth of flowering trees. It appears the cherry trees; redbuds; magnolias; pears; etc. have been induced to bloom all at once. Already, many daffodils and hyacinths have faded blossoms. It’s so warm that the bloom cycle of many flowers and trees has sped up. Last year Spring was cool, damp and long. We had dwarf iris and squills blooming for weeks. This Spring, the bulb flowers have been baked by the sun and battered by heavy rains and strong winds.

Nature has thrown everything at us all at once. While I like cooler weather in April, I can’t deny the overall beautiful sights filling gardens, fields and woodland edges. Each year the emerging colors of the Spring landscape put me mind of Autumn…Autumn reversed. During both seasons, pale greens, yellows, bronzes and reds dominate against the blue sky and dark, sculptural tree branches. But while the rich hues of autumn presage the stark, clean lines of winter, Spring’s brighter palette heralds the lush green Summer.

Over the past few days, the jumped up quagmire that pretends to be my garden has become littered with Marsh Marigolds, Caltha palustrus. A member of the Ranunculus family (which includes common buttercups), they thrive in wet, boggy soil, opening buttercup yellow flowers in the sunlight. By 5 p.m. the blooms close for the evening.  They cram out the grasses and fight for prime weed space with violets and dandelions. I’m in heaven. It’s like the little meadow I am forever trying unsuccessfully to recreate. For a few short weeks I achieve perfection with little claim to the reward. The marsh marigolds have spread and thrived with little help from me. Marsh marigolds are pollinated by wind and disturbance to the flowers by people and animals and less so by insects. My yellow feet will attest to the plentiful pollen. After the flowers have died, numerous bulb-like seeds are left behind to insure plenty of plants for next year. The leaves die back leaving bare spots in the lawn. I’m sure this is most discouraging to practitioners of the Sacred Sward.

 

For me they are perfect little native wildflowers. But I must warn they can run toward invasiveness in a location pleasing to them. How I love them and how I curse them when they end up in my flowerbeds. My weakness for them rivals that for the non-native Purple Loosestrife.

Here are two links to visit for more information on Caltha palustrus:

plants.usda.gov/java/profile
www.rook.org/earl/bwca/nature/aquatics/calthapal.html

Please visit the link below to view the photo gallery of flowering bulbs. Mr. G has sent more over the past few weeks.***



***With any luck and if I did this correctly, if you click on the image you should be taken to the Spring Bulb Gallery where you will see the phrase "up to gallery" in the upper right of the page. That link will take you to a page of photo thumbnails.

Customer: I want someone to design a maintenance and backache free garden. Okay?

GardenCenter Employee: Snork!!!

 
A long time ago I worked for a local garden center as one of “The Horticulturists.” The title meant I was paid a dollar more an hour than the regular staff, worked longer hours and was singled out for question and answer sessions with customers who wanted detailed information to go with their $1.50 six pack of marigolds (I did say it was a long time ago). One of the commonest questions asked as many times as there are mosquitoes in summer was, “I want to buy plants for my garden that will bloom all summer long, come back next year, not need a lot of watering, grow fast and not cost too much. Can you do that for me? Oh, and can you guarantee them too?” Sorry I realize those are two questions! Now anyone who has ever worked in any sort of customer service situation recognizes the difficulty of keeping one’s facial expression composed. The urge to break into peals of laughter is strong before such bold absurdity. Without skipping a beat, I learned to take a breath, smile, concoct a plant list and gently point out we were dealing with living commodities. And let’s talk about that guarantee…Blah, blah, blah.
 

I’m not answering those questions in any detail today, but I have maintained a working list of perennials that almost fit the bill. Let me relent with this small sampling: Purple Coneflower, Blanket Flower, Japanese Trout Lily (Tricyrtis), Rudbeckia species, Coreopsis, Dwarf Day Lily, Russian Sage, Veronica and Geranium. This is a short list. There are many more perennials that have long bloom periods and a good degree of draught tolerance along with unfussy soil and location needs. And for the price of another sentence I’ll throw in some ornamental grass, some spring bulbs, some ornamental shrubs (possibly a Butterfly Bush) and an Autumn Blooming Clematis. Presto! An almost stress free garden!

Let’s be realistic. I can guarantee gardening to grow vegetables or ornamental plants is work. Many find designing and maintaining a garden enjoyable or relaxing or creative. Labor is a path to a sense of satisfaction. If gardening is a backbreaking chore, then it’s hard to continue with it, certainly not as a way to express yourself or to wind down from an otherwise stressful life. Unless a person has is a need to grow produce to supplement diet or income (and that truly is work!) there is little to motivate. Keeping a garden for the sake of impressing neighbors is a possibility. I’ve worked with such clients, but they usually hire someone to “install” their gardens and to “maintain” them afterward. On the other hand there are some people who are disabled or have limited space and means. Laboring in the garden seems insurmountable until container gardens and raised beds are suggested. A lot of joy can come out of a 2 gallon flowerpot filled with a few herbs.

   

A garden emerges through inspiration, planning, labor, revisions, failure and success. Mixed in with the backache and groans is the incredible joy of not only watching, but physically experiencing the blossoming of a desire to make a patch of dirt into a miniature ecosystem…A recreation of paradise.


Madam L is glad she's the supervisor!

One of my many horticultural weaknesses is the genus Hippeastrum, a.k.a. Amaryllis. The greedy urge to possess each cultivar in the group and every color frequently is overwhelming. It can lead to poverty at a most inconvenient time: Christmas. Within its membership is a variety I particularly treasure, “Scarlet Baby.” The reasons why are many, but include the deep cardinal red color of the trumpet shaped flowers, its floriferous habit and reliable re-blooming. In the photo below I hope you can see the difference between the red hues of “Scarlet Baby” and “Red Lion.” The latter is probably one of the most common cultivars grown by the recipient of an amaryllis gift. I am jaded enough to scoff at it (while secretly hoarding any bulb I can get my Pro-mix stained gloves on!). Considering how many people claim to have a black thumb and an inability to grow a houseplant, it is remarkable that folks do pot up the gift bulb and get the amaryllis to bloom. It’s a glorious bloom too, radiating brilliant color in the dark, flower-starved winter. Perhaps it is a testament to how durable and easy amaryllis is to grow. Too often after the blooms have faded the plant is tossed. Oh, many indoor gardeners are game. They keep the plant to grow on through the spring and summer then, in September scramble to learn all about how to store the bulb over the winter and if is it possible to re-bloom it. Or they were unsuccessful re-blooming in the past and hesitate to try again.

 

I’m here to tell you that it is very easy to re-bloom amaryllis. Read and follow my instructions with an open mind. I have gotten into arguments with horticulturists over this topic. We are a contentious lot! My technique is based on the careless disregard method practiced by a dear friend and fellow classmate of mine. It follows:

After the amaryllis flowers fade cut the stalk away using a sharp knife near the bulb taking care not to damage the leaves. Place the plant in a bright window in any location except for a north facing exposure, though that will work if that’s the only spot available. I’ve done it before with success! Grow the plant on watering thoroughly once at week. Withhold fertilizer. When outdoors night temperatures consistently stay above 50 F, take the plant outdoors on a cloudy or rainy/drizzly day placing it in a sheltered location. After a week repot the plant into a 6 to 8” terracotta pot using a good potting mixture like Pro-mix or a homemade one. I suggest ¾ peat moss to 1/4 Perlite with a tablespoon of long acting fertilizer beads mixed in. Make sure the peat moss is soaked in WARM water. African Violet mix works very well. This will be the bulbs home for a few years, so don’t skimp on the soil. Repotting is done infrequently after this. Amaryllis thrives best when allowed to be pot bound. Next place the pot in a sunny location. Water it when it dries out. Once a month mix 1 tablespoon of a water-soluble fertilizer with 1 gallon of water. Use this to fertilize the bulb. Only one bulb? Just use the fertilizer on other flowers. So between April and September the amaryllis will be fertilized 6 times. Some time after the autumn equinox (how’s that for time keeping?) bring the plant onto a covered porch, or into garage, under a bench or some out of the way location. Let it rest there without water for one or two weeks, then, use a sharp knife to lop off the leaves, cutting close to but not into the bulb. At this point take it to the cellar or place it in a closet. Around the beginning of December bring the amaryllis out. Place it in a well-lit location. Wait a few days until green colors the neck and body of the bulb and possibly even the start of leaf and bud growth. That’s the signal to commence watering. Within 6 to 8 weeks it will start blooming. With luck the amaryllis will send up 2 to 3 flower stalks each with 2 to 5 trumpets.

   

Outside the sun is shining in a brilliant blue, cloudless sky. At about 2 p.m., the temperature read 60 F. Snow remains in stray patches, an incongruous counterpoint to ever more noticeable signs of spring. A fellow dog walker excitedly told me about seeing a butterfly (I hope it can slow its metabolism for a few more weeks!). In my front garden, dwarf irises (Iris reticulata) are blooming along with snow crocuses. Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) have been blooming for over a week-as soon as they were relieved of a foot of snow. Here and there are clumps of Creeping Veronica (Veronica repens) a hardy little perennial ground cover which starts blooming in mid February if there is little snow cover.

  
Iris reticulata (March 9, 2010)

 
Veronica repens (March 9, 2010)

Now lawn fanatics despise this little creeper labeling it a weed that must be eradicated from the Sacred Sward. It spreads rapidly through a south facing lawn smothering highly bred grasses and stealing the resources those pampered leaves need to recover from winter dormancy. But for me, Creeping Veronica’s tiny flowers reflect the open glory of a late winter sky, a sky framed by tree branches. In this part of Pennsylvania, its flowers are some of the first blooms spotted. Look up at a Silver Maple (Acer saccharinum) and you will see that its flowers are in boom along with those of the Red Maple (Acer rubrum). Against the magnificent sky, ripening maple buds add a red contrast and the flowers of the Weeping Willow (Salix babylonica) green.

While their territorial calls fill the afternoon air, few birds are visiting my feeders. Love is in the air for them. The resident Cardinal couple is arguing with several interlopers looking for nest sites. The Robins are gathering on the grass posturing like hostile warlords. Even the Downy Woodpeckers are militant today! Only last week they were all huddled together cracking seeds on the picnic table feeder. My favorites are the Mourning Dove males already puffing themselves up before their ladybirds, murmuring suggestive love talk to them.


Disgruntled Downy Woodpecker (Silver Maple flowers behind)

My squirrels have been busy building new and renovating old nests. Now there is a topic for another post. Did you know they have summer nests and winter nests? The summer ones are small impromptu affairs of leaves twisted together on the spot for shelter, much as a day hiker caught out and unable to get home might put together a lean-to of branches and boughs to huddle under overnight.

In winter people dread snow and hate confinement. As much as I look forward to the unique moods of each season, and while I don’t dread the garden clean-up I am facing, I do dislike the noise and activity of Spring; the neighborhood lawn mowers, weed-whackers, chippers, chain saws, and the constant traffic on my street as the abundant sunshine and pleasant temperatures release people from the restrictions and inactivity of winter.