Rain, Rain, Come...And Stay!

I'll admit it: there was a time when rain made me nervous.  Not the spritz or sprinkle, but the deluge.  I've had my share of rain-induced property damage over the years, so I became understandably edgy when the weather forecasters called for excessive rain showers.  Yet over time, I've educated myself, learned methods of harnessing nature's water tap (which at times seems to have been carelessly left running!), and used this powerful force to benefit my property.

In a recent post, I discussed the advantages of planting a rain garden to help catch and diffuse runoff--an excellent way to retain water.  Not only has this helped to reduce my own personal fear factor (where is all the water going to go?!!), but has made my yard more attractive and cost-efficient (as the rain gardens trap excess water and store it for a day or so, the plants are naturally hydrated over a period of time, so I have less need to reach for my garden hose).

Today, it's pouring outside.  Normally I'd keep myself inside: a day to work on the computer, curl up with a good book--or even clean my house.  But the drops splattering outside my office window summoned me outdoors, and the puddles pooling around my yard prodded me to further exploration.  Donning layers of waterproof gear, I headed into the wind-whipping grayness and bent over a patch of onion grass, knowing now was the time to strike.  With a ruthless pull, I popped the weed right out of the ground.

Yes, the middle of a rockin' rainstorm can be the best time to clear away weeds (assuming there's no lighting flashing around or hurricane-force winds to contend with)!  Water loosens the roots of even the most stubborn weeds, and it's my favorite time to pull up the dreaded onion grass.  A word of advice though: grasp the weed right at ground level and wiggle the plant back and forth a few times to dislodge roots.  If you pull straight out, the grass will break off above the bulb and in no time more grass will grow back.  I like to take the gathered onion grass, crush the bulbs between my fingers, and scatter the aromatic remnants around plants that critters favor (like hostas and daylilies).  Wildlife in general (and rabbits and deer in particular) hate the smell of onions and tend to steer clear of it.

April and May are excellent months to get a handle on dandelions.  I know many people like this weed, and even collect leaves for salads and tea.  I simply don't share their ardor for the plant.  I find these "dandy-lions" anything but dandy.  The endless seeds produced by each plant are problematic, and I resent them taking up valuable space and nutrients that more favorable plants could enjoy.  So they are next on my rain-day garden tour.  And like the onion grass, I grasp them at the base and wiggle them out, making sure that long taproot comes out clean.  Do it now, while the plants are small enough to dislodge.  It's amazing how just a few extra weeks worth of growth can fortify their tenacious taproots, making them nearly impossible to get out!

One rainy day last season, I witnessed an amazing thing: an 'Autumn Joy' sedum chomped to small pieces, presumably by a browsing deer, who realized mid-taste that he didn't like it (deer seldom favor that one).  The small bits of plant scattered on the ground told me the deer had literally spit the plant out!  I took the fragments of sedum and stuck them in the mud next to the existing plant, and within weeks, I had three more sedum plants!  All the rain had adequately nourished the "babies," making for a wonderful array of this lovely fall-bloomer!

So hit up your garden patch on the next rainy day you're free!  Don't step directly in the garden beds because your weight will compact the soil.  Keeping to the perimeters or standing on nearby grass, zero in on weeds and decimate them the easy, old-fashioned way...and learn how to enjoy your yard in all kinds of weather! 

The Benefits of Bugs

Nearly every gardener, from the novice to the seasoned pro, knows that earthworms are to the soil what gold is to the prospector: the mother lode!  Not only can worms eat their own weight in soil each day, churning up the earth and adding soil aeration, which can counteract compaction, but they actually produce natural antibiotics, which help protect plants from disease.  The castings they leave behind have the ability to absorb moisture from the air and hold it in, helping plants to more readily absorb water, aiding drainage, for less runoff.

But they are not Mother Nature's only minions in the garden trenches.  And like the word "minion," which usually has negative connotations, certain insects are just plain misunderstood.  Take the lowliest of the low in most people's minds: Rough Stink Bugs.  They're a homely gray-brown shade the color of tree bark, and irritatingly omnipresent--attaching themselves to every nook and cranny of your plants, pots and patio furniture in summer and often found flitting inside a lampshade, perched atop a picture frame, or landing on your skin any time of the year.  These critters are particularly adapted to cold, so their annoyance factor seems to last all year long.  And don't squash one: aside from the whole "creating bad karma" thing (which is a topic for another day!), the action spurs their little insect pores into overdrive, creating an acid-like stench that lingers on the skin for hours.
The good news is, they are even more annoying to aphids, caterpillars and beetles than they are to us, since those little plant-killing buggers are their food of choice.  So, the next time a little gray stink bug lands on you, don't flinch or fling...simply cradle it gently and place it lovingly in your garden bed, where it can be a good little gardener's helper and gobble up all those plant-attacking parasites!

The favored ladybug doesn't suffer the stink bug's stigma.  They're pretty!  Round and red with little polka dots--a veritable cartoon character of bugs.  Just about everyone knows that they're harmless, and most folks have a vague notion about them being beneficial to us and bringing us luck.  Here's the scoop on these lovely little critters:  seems in the olden days, farmers in Britain prayed to the Virgin Mary for help with their ailing crops.  As luck would have it, just about that time, ladybugs appeared on the scene, feasting on aphids and flitting their pretty little selves flirtatiously around the flowers.  Grateful gardeners of that time referred to them as "Our Lady's Beetle, which over the years got shortened to ladybug. These charmers have lived in perfect harmony in gardens ever since.  In fact, an adult ladybug will eat about 5,000 aphids in its lifetime!  But they can be coy, so coax them into your little piece of paradise by planting angelica and dill, which they find hard to resist.  Another way to attract them?  Mix ground wheat and yeast together in a water suspension (predictably called "wheast"), and spray the plant-friendly combo around the garden.

Other surprising plant pals include members of the bee family.  Not just the honey bee, who's attributes are well-known, but those "other" bees--the ones we frown at, cringe around or flat-out run away from: wasps.  These bad boys of the bee world have gotten a bad rap--especially the Trichogramma wasps, which prey on borers, webworms and moth caterpillars.  Not only do they eat these pests, they then lay their own eggs onto the pests' eggs, killing them as they hatch!  Another tiny wasp, the Passaloecus, is a solitary aphid-eating bee.  They pack aphids into their nests, which are tiny little holes in wood.  Prevent them from drilling into your home by placing pieces of plywood drilled with little holes in inconspicuous places.

So, don't let bugs "bug" you...work with them, and together you'll create the best garden yet! And if anyone has "beneficial bug" tips to add, please feel free to chime in!

For Peet's Sake

April is that magical time in every gardener's life where plans are made, nurseries are scoured, and horticultural dreams abound.  We wake each day, praying for just the right mix of warm temperatures, tepid rain and enough sunshine to prod the plants into a photosynthetic frenzy.  We step into our gardens with renewed vigor, shaking off the long winter and taking deep, fortifying breaths, realizing that the very air is charged with possibility.  This is the year that our gardens will be epic.

The next thing I--like most of my peers--do is hit up my garden supply wholesalers in search of the latest, greatest ideas that the botanically advanced minds of our time have come up with: new products to make my garden look its best.  I mean, really, it's a win/win situation: I "discover" wonderful new products, which give their creators exposure, while I get to claim the results as my own.

This year, I've zeroed in on a new type of mulch called "Sweet Peet."  Have you heard of it?  According to the brochure, it's 100% organic, made from "composted ingredients harvested from local farming operations."  It works as both a mulch and a soil conditioner because it's made with farm manure (but heated to a temperature high enough to kill the seeds in it and the offensive odor).  It adds organic matter to soil, and aids water retention while smothering weeds, like any mulch would.  Producers of Sweet Peet claim it also conditions the soil and reduces nitrogen-borrowing when tilled in around root zones, and "contains only virgin wood products, farm manure and plant fibers."  Its color derives from naturally occurring tannins which are baked in during composting, giving it a natural, dark color (so no harsh dyes are added to the product or your soil).

The makers of this product also claim that it benefits all plantings, as opposed to other types of mulch like cedar, pine, and bark by-products, which tend to benefit acid-loving plants.  Creators claim it's useful in "existing acid soils, further aggravated by sulfur emissions and acid rain."

I can't place my stamp of approval on it yet because I haven't tried it, but I am preparing my yard for it now and hope to get it down by next month.  One potential problem is cost.  It can be as much as twice as expensive as traditional mulch (depending on the area you live in).  But when you factor in the cost of soil conditioners, which you can supposedly cut out if using Sweet Peet, it becomes a better value.

Anyone who has experience with this product is welcome to comment.  I'd love to get some feedback from readers!  In the meantime, I'm going to try it out.  I will report on my findings within the next few months.  Let's hope it hits the sweet spot!

Pest Problems: Balancing the "Scale."

As plants reawaken after their deep winter slumber, not all are healthy.  And it's at this time of year it is easiest to see problems with one type of garden pest: scale insects.  If you notice white patches on your tree trunks, they may be suffering an attack of scale--tiny insects that latch onto the plant matter and suck the sap right out of them, causing yellowing, browning and stunted growth--even leading to the demise of trees.

Scale insects start to emerge in early spring and affect a variety of trees, including aspen, ash, hemlock, poplar, maple and lilac. They can even affect trees traditionally kept inside, like ficus and fig trees.  Look closely at tree bark because oyster shell scale masquerades as bark itself, looking like dull and unobtrusive patches of uneven bark.  But don't be fooled: it's "bark" is not worse than it's miniscule, sap-sucking "bite."  In fact, it's all devastating to trees.

If you suspect your plants have fallen prey to a full-"scale" attack, you can test for emerging populations by shaking branches over a sheet of dark paper.  If present, the tiny, pale creepy-crawlers will show up on the paper.  If this is the case, take action immediately.  My favorite scale-eradicators are--of course--organic compounds, which use nature's own providers to attack insects' nervous systems.  I like Pyrethrum, made from the dried flower heads of the chrysanthemum, and Neem oil, derived from the Neem tree of India.  You can even peel off patches of suspected scale by hand, which, although time-consuming, is the most natural method of scale removal.  And remember, a little diligence goes a long way: nip the problem in the proverbial bud today, and you'll prevent it from becoming an issue of great scale tomorrow.

Sign of the Times

Daffodils!  Nothing eases the winter-weary mind or snow ravaged landscape quite like them!  I love them for more reasons than I can detail here, but, mainly, I admire their ability to usher in spring--their mere presence gracing the landscape in a way that is both whimsical and practical (as they do in the picture, below).

First, the practical: they come in more than 40 varieties!  Their shades range from white and palest ecru to all manner of yellows--honeyed hues that balance the forsythia tones (in photo) to lemon and butterscotch.  In fact, one can even scout out orange and pink daffodils.  Some daffs are two-toned, with the trumpet-shaped center coronas differing in hue from petals.  A good example of this: 'Petit Four,' only 16 inches tall,  a good choice for a partially shady site. This flower has white petals with a double trumpet of apricot pink.   Check out these and dozens more varieties at your local nursery.

Daffodil colors are long lasting! Because these beauties produce a toxin that is poisonous to any critter foraging for food, they NEVER get eaten. (In fact, the sap located in the flower stems can irritate skin, so wear gloves when clipping, and never combine daffodils with other plants in a vase because the sap will wilt the other flowers).   Gotta love evolution.  Sadly, tulip biology has not developed to this state, and they are always the #1 item on any deer and rabbit salad bar. 

And now, the whimsical:   It starts with the name, really.  The ancients called them "Narcissus," for the young man, renowned for his beauty, who became entranced by his own looks when he saw his reflection in a pond.  Found in nature on the nearby banks of rivers, these "giving" plants are far from fixated with themselves.  They emerge from the near-frozen ground and offer brilliant bloom to the dull landscape all around them.

Then there is the silly term Ben Weatherstaff uses in The Secret Garden: "Daffydowndillys."  To me, it's a name that's just a bit too fanciful, and downplays the importance of these harbingers of spring.  After all, as these flowers blossom, so do our thoughts--blooming with all the possibilities a new season brings!

A few tips to keep your daffodils coming back beautifully every spring:
 1.  Plant bulbs in the fall (2-4 weeks before the ground freezes) in average, well-drained  soil (bulbs rot in areas where water lingers).  Plant at least three inches deep.
 2.  Plant anywhere you like, but remember, a grassy knoll strewn with hundreds of narcissus looks amazing in spring--and overgrown in summer!  Because the plant foliage provides much-needed nutrients to bulbs for maximum blooming next season, it should never be cut, so, therefore, grass around it can't be cut either!  I prefer to plant my daffs in a flower bed amid emerging summer perennials.  As the foliage of nearby poppy, iris and coneflower emerge, I simply tuck wilting narcissus greens underneath them.
3.  Compost the entire daffodil bed each fall, to provide plants much-needed nutrients and protection during the offseason.  I spread a liberal layer of leaf compost over my bulbs each October.

Have questions about this post or any other?  Or maybe there's some other "green garden" issue you'd like to explore.  Comment below and I'll try to address specific questions.  If I don't know the answer, I'll find out--and we'll learn together!
 

Rabbit Run

As Easter looms, we're inundated with rabbits, aren't we?  A stroll through any retail establishment--from the big box stores to the local pharmacies--will garner a bevy of bunnies: stuffed, candied, confectioned and cartooned.  I admit to being a big fan of these fluffy critters.  Not only am I reading the classic Watership Down right now, but I've even got a flop-eared fur ball of my very own named Jiggy (who, in fact, has a starring role in my New Adult novel, Flawless).   In fact, a person would be hard-pressed to find a more ardent fan than I--except when these creatures are in my garden!

Unlike my interaction with my domestic bunny buddy, I admire the antics of the wild rabbits in my yard with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.  I suspect a warren in my neighbor's side yard because that's where I watch the rabbits congregate each day, chasing each other around and hopping in comical, vertical jumps that look like some sort of mating ritual, which never fails to make me laugh.

But the bunnies' destructive habits are never funny.  A peek at the vegetation around my pond supports my suspicions that the rabbits are having what my kids would call "a real banga" around the old water hole.  And while I don't begrudge the critters a refreshing drink, I frown upon the wanton destruction of the nearby plants.  In fact, my frown lines deepened considerably when I spotted a clipped carex.  This plant, a 20-inch, green-and-white striped plant, commonly called a sedge, looked as though someone passed through with a pair of scissors.  To add insult to injury, the sliced slivers weren't even gobbled up!  They just lay there, like discarded newspaper clippings, scattering in the wind.

Time to take action.  First of all, I notice that the rabbits steer clear of any area where I have an abundance of alliums and marigolds planted.  Like most critters, they don't dig the smell of these plants, and won't dig into those areas.  Next, I took the advice of a gardening guru in my neighborhood and sprinkled crushed eggshells along the fence bordering my neighbor's property.  This produced immediate results.  I actually watched the rabbits scamper around the "shelled" area on their way to the pond.

For the plants peppered around the pond, I "peppered" a homemade mixture of hot pepper sauce and water (one-third sauce to two-thirds cool water in a spray bottle) around the area, leaving only the rocky section near the waterfall free and clear.  I don't want to discourage rabbits from partaking of the pond, just the plants around it.  Rabbits are foragers by nature, and very curious.  They don't fancy the taste of sedge in general, but will cut through whole plants while they make up their minds.  The pepper mixture seems to have deterred them.

And for anyone who is lucky enough to share indoor spaces with a special little furry friend like my Jiggy, a word of advice: keep the toilet seat down.  When one of my kids neglected to heed my (daily) nagging command to do just that, my curious Jiggy found a new water source--and had to wait patiently for me to discover her

pull her out!

 

Water Woes

April showers might bring May flowers, but springtime rains have usually brought me an abundance of that most unwelcome of guests: flooding water.  I'm not talking about an unwanted puddle here and there.  Or a soggy spot where I long to grow arid-loving perennials  Oh, no.  I'm talking deluge. 

Be it the countless seasons of consistent, battering raindrops or the dam-breaking, flooding kind of rain that hits with a force and speed that has not only washed away tenderly planted seedlings, but well-established plantings, my property has weathered every kind of storm that tosses its way.  Last June, a sudden storm sprung up, taking all the local weather forecasters by surprise and taking an even greater toll on our property, scattering drainage rocks to the street and decimating portions of our brick driveway.

So, in the wake of Mother Nature's greatest hits--hurricanes Floyd, Irene and Sandy, as well as the no-namers in between--I've learned a thing or two about channeling unwanted water. And I've found the best way to control erosion is by placing smart plantings around the property: my own, tailor-made rain garden.

So what exactly IS a rain garden?  Simply put, it looks like an ornamental perennial garden, but in reality, it is so much more!  It's designed to incorporate a shallow depression that collects and filters rain water and runoff from hard surfaces, like walkways, roofs and driveways.  It has a ponding depth of only a few inches in order to hold water for a day or so.  This slows runoff--and the erosion that occurs when water races over the ground at great speed, taking out everything in its path.  Most rain gardens hold and filter about 30% more rainfall than lawns.

Everyone's property is different, so individual plantings will vary depending on season, zone and light and soil conditions, but in general, plan your rain garden on a gentle slope in the path of runoff.  Most rain gardens cover 100-300 feet.

I've listed my top 10 favorite plants to help control the flow of water around my upstate New York yard:

For mostly sunny spots, I like, Ilex verticillata--Winterberry shrubs--to anchor the area.  I like to sprinkle color around the site, so I may opt for purple Iris verticillata (Blue flag Iris) for spring and a blazing red Lobelia cardinalis (Cardinal flower) for a warm shot of color in a mid-to-late summer garden.  I enjoy varying the texture with the spiky form of a Carex grayii (Grey's sedge) and an overall groundcover that always works in moist conditions is Asarum caudatum (Western wild ginger).

If your site is shadier, opt for Fothergilla gardenii, a shade-loving shrub with a lovely shape and scarlet leaves come fall.  Dicentra eximia  (Wild bleeding heart), Geranium maculatum (Wild geranium) and Viola labridorica (Labrador violet) provide shots of color to the spring and early summer garden, while feathery ferns add a touch of whimsy all season long (Osmunda claytoniana--Interrupted fern--and Adiantum pedatum--Maidenhair fern--work best in the wettest conditions).