March Madness

The other day temperatures rose above 50 degrees (F) for the first time in months in my winter-weary patch of grass in upstate New York, so, naturally, I headed outside with a rake.  I am an optimist by nature, so although I knew there were still piles of snow peppered around the yard, I marched onto the lawn sans outerwear, opting for just a sweatshirt and sneaks to accompany my high hopes for a fruitful spring cleanup.

Step one changed all that.  After my cartoonish slide through a spot of snow, which landed me square on my butt, feet sticking straight up in the air (and no doubt inspiring peals of laughter from any of my neighbors lucky enough to glance out at that exact moment and witness my complete lack of poetry in motion), I hobbled inside, changed my soggy slacks and exchanged the sneakers for my trusty snow boots. Grabbing a shovel, I headed back outside and gingerly shuffled through the snow to the small patch of green--only to discover it was more moss than grass.  At the sight of all that green, I saw red!

Now normally a little moss in the mix is nothing to fret over, but my front lawn had become inundated with the stuff the previous year, so I'd painstakingly toiled to alleviate all offenders--cutting back tree branches to allow more sunlight into the area, and spot-treating moss patches to individual doses of white vinegar.  I'd also incorporated healthy lawn practices, like aerating with a handheld device, allowing the grass roots the opportunity to expand and grow, and sprinkling an organic corn gluten meal fertilizer over the entire area to provide nourishing nitrogen to the grass while preventing seeds from germinating. 

I thought I'd controlled the problem.  Back in August, when my neighbor strolled over and actually complimented the appearance of my lawn, I knew a satisfaction 18 years in the making (no kidding, it took me THAT long to get my organic, pesticide-free lawn to actually look as good as the toxin-tanked counterparts around the neighborhood!  Hey, no smirking...I never claimed to be a quick learner).  Yet, it appeared all my hard work was for naught.

Now I'm not a moss-hater.  On the contrary, I've planted it liberally around the stepping-stone path leading from my woods, and it makes a lush, cushy bed to the azalea and forsythia bushes bordering my backyard property line, but in this one little spot out front I perpetually long for the glory of green grass.

So, alternating with shovel and rake, I scooped up and tossed away snow, then gave the ground a good combing to loosen the moss.  In the past I have been known to sprinkle baking soda on particularly stubborn patches of moss, to kill them and make the dislodging process a bit easier.  I noticed that in late March, with the ground still soggy from the snow, that this step wasn't needed.  The moss uprooted quite easily.  Another plus to raking up moss in late March: spores develop in April, so if the grass can be cleared of the green stuff just before that, homeowners save themselves countless hours of trying to control new patches popping up all season.

Now all I need is for Mother Nature to hold up her end of the bargain and kick Old Man Winter to the curb for good.  Spring's warmer temps and tepid rains provide the best recipe for grass to re-cover-y. 

What's NOT Good for the Goose...

In my most recent post I shared tips for deterring Canada Geese from both municipal and residential areas.  One of the things I suggested was to plant a buffer strip of perennials around ponds and lakes.  This living barrier, ideally 10-feet-wide around the perimeter of the water feature, discourages the geese from settling in a number of ways: it limits access to the water, impedes their ability to see predators and prevents curiosity, since they don't like to step into the "unknown"--dense grasses and other bushy plant life.

All your efforts will be in vain, though, if you don't install the right kinds of plants.  Uninformed choices may actually draw the geese to the site you hope to keep them away from!  Remember, the birds are looking for easy access to water and food.  Planting items that they eat will provide them a smorgasbord and ensure they make your pond or lake a stop on their North American tour.

Here, my top choices for deterring the determined Canada Geese (ideally for the Northeast):


Acorus Americana; AKA American Sweet Flag:  This perennial, zone 3-7, is a moderate spreader, which will slowly fill in around a water feature but not become invasive.  It's "fruit" is not tasty to the geese or deer and its citrus-spice scent keeps them from even approaching.  Also good for erosion control.

Andropogon gerardii; AKA Big Bluestem:  At 6' tall, this zone 3-8 ornamental grass provides ample screening, while offering no food source to geese or deer.  Its growth is moderate and it turns a glorious copper color in autumn.


Schizachyrium scoparium; AKA Little Bluestem:  This blue-grey clumping grass, which gets 2'-4' tall, has fluffy silver-white seed heads that glimmer in the sun.  Attractive to us, the geese and deer are not impressed, and tend to steer clear.  Turns a lovely reddish hue in fall.  Good in zones 3-8.

Typha latifoilia; AKA Broad-leaf Cat Tail:  Most of us have seen the tell-tale brown bottle-brush flower of this pond perennial.  It's a perennial favorite for good reason:  it prevents erosion around lakes and ponds, and wildlife hate it (especially geese).  Best in zones 3-7.
 
 

Oh Canada (Geese)!

Spring has arrived!  Warmer temps beckon us outside to soak up some rays and enjoy the budding plants and balmy breezes.  But we are not alone in our annual rituals.  Within a few weeks, we will be inundated with tourists--of the feathered variety.  Our pals (or, as some see it, mortal enemies), the Canada Geese (not Canadian Geese--don't ask why, I've no idea) will arrive in droves.

Canada Geese are beautiful birds, who can be admired for their determination.  Most of us marvel at the impressive amount of miles they cover migrating between Canada and Mexico each year, and we admire the lovely “V” formation they fly in while completing the annual trek.  It's during their many stops along the way that we are less impressed by their habits. Their large flocks temporarily settle around municipal ponds and parks, leaving fecal reminders (up to 2lbs per day per bird!) in their wake and overwhelming other wildlife, like ducks and swans.  Our lakes and ponds fall victim to the influx of these birds, prompting officials in many municipalities to reach for their shotguns.  But there are humane ways to deter them.  Below, a list of the most important measures to take (listed in order of importance) to reduce the influx of Canada geese:

 

1.      INCREASE THE NUMBER OF “DO NOT FEED WATERFOWL” SIGNS AROUND WATER AREAS.  PLACEMENT DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF PARKING AREAS IS IMPERATIVE, AS IS PLACEMENT BY TOWN SIGNS AND ON COMMUNITY BULLETIN BOARDS.  Residents need to understand that feeding the birds is not helping them, but merely drawing them to the pond and overwhelming the community.  This does not endear them to townsfolk, but frustrates many by impeding their quality of life in shared community spaces, leading to drastic measures being taken—like killing the offenders. 

2.      REMOVE PICNIC TABLES FROM AROUND WATER AREAS AND REPLACE WITH BENCHES.  Food draws the birds in.  Remove the ability to picnic right next to ponds and lakes (and remove all but one trash can as well), and the diminished food supply will cut down on the number of birds congregating around shared water spaces.

3.      CREATE A BUFFER STRIP AROUND COMMUNITY WATER FEATURES  CONSISTING OF TALL, STIFF NATIVE GRASSES, PERENNIALS AND BOULDERS TO DISCOURAGE EASY ACCESS TO WATER BY GEESE, WHILE STILL ALLOWING RESIDENTS ACCESS TO WATER WITH RELATIVE EASE .  Natives are less expensive (no need to introduce them to a foreign site so they will establish properly, thereby reducing the chance of dying and replacement plants), moisture tolerant and require little or no maintenance once established.  Boulders should be at least 2’ around in order to be effective.

4.      PLACE 15-20 FOOT-WIDE GRAVEL PATHS AROUND PERIMETERS OF PONDS AND LAKES.   A GRAVEL PATH CONSISTING OF SHARP—NOT ROUNDED—STONES WILL ALLOW COMFORT TO PEDESTRIANS AND DISCOMFORT TO WATERFOWL.  The idea is to make the pond accessible to humans and inaccessible to waterfowl.  Sharp stones are hard to navigate without shoes.

5.      PLANT HIGHLY AROMATIC PLANTS LIKE ARTEMESIA AND MINT TO DISCOURAGE EGG-LAYING.  PLANT CONCORD GRAPE VINES AT THE BASE OF STRUCTURES (LIKE GAZEBOS AND BRIDGES) TO KEEP GEESE AWAY.  CANADA GEESE DESPISE CONCORD GRAPES AND GEESE REPELLENT SPRAYS USE CONCORD GRAPES AS THE MAIN INGREDIENT IN THEIR FORMULAS.  Also, plant common periwinkle as a groundcover at peninsula sites and islands.  Geese dislike it and it helps with erosion.

6.      DO NOT PLACE MULCH ANYWHERE AROUND LAKES AND PONDS.  CANADA GEESE LOVE TO SETTLE INTO IT.

7.      KEEP EXISTING GRASS HIGHER THAN NORMAL, MAKING IT MORE DIFFICULT FOR THE BIRDS TO WALK THROUGH IT.

8.      PERIODICALLY PLACE “PREDATOR” KITES OR BALLOONS IN NEARBY TREE BRANCHES TO SCARE CANADA GEESE AWAY FORM ISOLATED AREAS.  Many companies manufacture these types of devices.  The cost is relatively inexpensive: about $40-$50 per balloon or kite.

9.       DO NOT CUT BACK ORNAMENTAL GRASSES IN WINTER.  PLANTS PROVIDE OFF-SEASON “ARCHITECTURAL” INTEREST AND DISCOURAGE EARLY SPRING ARRIVALS FROM SETTLING.

    
    10.   IF CREATING A NEW WATER FEATURE, DO NOT INCORPORATE ISLANDS OR      
            PENNINSULAS, AS THESE QUICKLY BECOME TO SAFE NESTING AREAS.  DO  
            NOT ADD FOUNTAINS.  BIRDS ARE ATTRACTED TO THEM.

Winter's Unlikely Warriors

Nature never fails to amaze anyone who simply takes a moment to marvel.  No season impresses me more than winter, especially the bone-weakening winters we have in the Northeastern United States. Most years--this one especially--the winds whip snow into an avalanche of frothy freeze which coats our homes, cars, gardens--anything exposed to their glacial assault.  Animals scurry into hibernation, car batteries concede defeat and our home-heating bills skyrocket.  Yet some things--some really little things actually--remain astonishingly indifferent to the deep freeze: birds.

Each winter I wonder about these amazing creatures.  And never have I wondered more than during this year's arctic plunge, with our near-record-smashing snowfall amounts and single-digit temperature dips.  How on Earth can these little creatures not only survive, but thrive? The tiniest Tufted Titmouse can outlast the biggest, fittest, strongest of humans in a head-to-beak competition of element-braving.  My hat is off to them--but only figuratively.  My silly-looking trapper's cap, complete with faux-fur lining, has been plastered to my head all season.  It barely gets a reprieve (I reluctantly place it aside when I shower), while the Black-capped Chickadee's topper is just for show!

Yes, the birds in the winter wonderland (or ice-encrusted site of Armageddon--however you view it) outside my kitchen window may weigh as much as my foggy breath billowing through the winter air, but their spirit, their fortitude and grace against nature's seemingly insurmountable opposition, places them larger than life in my mind.  Humbly I scatter a few handfuls of wild bird seed onto the snow around the barberry bushes (which I have always hated, but will perpetually keep because their red berries draw the birds from far and wide--especially Cardinals, Blue Jays, White-throated Sparrows, American Tree Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos), thinking it's the least I can do to repay them for their sweet trilling songs, offering hope in their melodies: Spring will arrive!