Sharing eco-friendly gardening practices, innovative experiences, and personal stories to enhance our mutual appreciation of nature
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Make that gopher go away!
This time of year is nearly every northern gardener' favorite. With the magnolia and red bud trees just starting to bloom, our eyes glance greedily over the developing landscape as our minds fill to overflowing with all the possibilities. Further fueling our imaginations: swirling hedges of sunny forsythia, tulips and daffs of all hues dotting the hills and valleys, and the deeply satisfying scent of pachysandra blooms.
I guess it's only natural for all God's creatures to enjoy the feast of flora spreading out before us like the unrolling of a magical carpet. But our all-too-human dreams come to an abrupt halt when we encounter large holes in the ground, usually right near all the chomped-upon hosta buds. The teeth-gnashing reality: gophers gone wild in our coveted garden spaces!!!
Now, before you reach for the BB gun or trap, try the non-confrontational approach I did to discourage the chubby critters. It takes a little dedication, but I was able to banish the big, fat gopher taking up residence in my yard within a three-week period. Here's my story:
It started with a phone call from my across-the-street neighbor, who informed me I had a huge groundhog hanging out on my front porch--sitting on the steps, relaxing on the wicker settee, and generally amusing the neighborhood with his antics.
I was less than entertained. Although there wasn't much out for him to eat in late March, I knew that if I didn't rid him of the property post-haste I'd have little more than daffodils and lily-of-the valley sprouting from the ground (these are both poisonous, so wildlife always steer clear of them). I immediately sprung into action.
Step #1: Critter Ridder. This hot-pepper mixture smells and tastes awful, so a quick spritz on the developing buds in my garden was a must. Note the ONE plant I forgot to sprinkle with the stuff:
As you can see, some of the tender buds became a groundhog snack (BTW I use "groundhog" and "gopher" interchangeably. As far as I know, these critters--cousins of squirrels--are one and the same!).
Step #2: Physical barrier. Gophers (and rabbits) may actually hazard the bad taste to get to particularly delectable sprouts (like the hosta buds), so I cover select plants in wildlife netting. The super-fine plastic mesh is tough to bite through, yet from a few feet away you can't even see it, so it doesn't mar the visual presentation of your plantings.
Step #3: Talcum powder. Unlike babies, gophers do not like the feel of powdery substances on their feet and bodies (and neither do ants, so sprinkle a bit in "ant lanes" in your house and on your property and they'll vacate the area, too).
Step #4: Molasses. Groundhogs dislike the feel of powder, but they HATE to be covered in sticky molasses. Coat their holes in the stuff and watch them hightail it out of the yard really fast! Let's face it, once you get that substance on you, it's, well, "slow as molasses" to get off!
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Mythbusters: plant edition
Now that planting season is upon us in the Northeast, I thought it timely to explore--and explode--planting myths. Here, some of the most commonly held beliefs about Spring planting:
1. If you live in zone 5 or below, never plant anything before Mother's Day
While this is a good rule of thumb for potted items, it isn't true of things like dormant bulbs, roots and rhizomes. You may tuck hosta shoots, iris, columbine, lily of the valley, ferns (to name a few) under the ground as soon as it is consistently at around 50 degrees F.
2. You should never plant tulips in the Spring
So you have a house full of spent tulips that friends and relatives brought as Easter presents a few weeks back. Normally you store the withering plants in their pots in your garage until you can dig a nice hole for them in the fall. Problem is, come autumn, you're busy putting your garden to bed, and more times than not, you forget to plant them--or you simply run out of time before the ground freezes. So, plant them NOW. Sure, they won't bloom again until next Spring, but if you tuck them unobtrusively amid your perennials, you will barely notice their browning foliage (which you NEVER cut--it provides the nutrients to get the bulbs through the winter so they bloom gloriously next year). Tip: get as much dirt from the pot into the hole as possible. The less the tulips are disturbed, the healthier they will stay. And don't overwater them--too much moisture rots the bulbs.
3. Drought-tolerant plants seldom need additional watering
While this is true in theory, ALL plants need extra watering during their first season in your garden. Plants (drought-tolerant and otherwise) need a heaping helping of the wet stuff to help them establish their place in their new home. The sages tell us that "putting down roots" somewhere is vital for bestowing upon us the feeling of belonging. This is literally true for our plants. Things like Black-eyed Susan, Coneflower, and Russian sage, famous for thriving on neglect, also need TLC during their first year in the flowerbed.
4. To loosen heavy clay soil, add sand
Anyone in the construction industry can tell you what you get when you mix sand with clay: cement. In fact the worst remedy for a clay soil is to add sand. This resulting rock-hard, mortar-like substance will choke out developing plant roots. a better alternative: use organic matter, like compost, to loosen heavy soils. It is light in composition, and also improves nutrient quality.
5. Organic pesticides are much safer than synthetic ones.
This is true to a point. However, misused pesticides can be harmful, regardless of whether they are considered natural or synthetic. Pyrethrum, for example, made from chrysanthemums, is still toxic to people and pets when handled improperly. Read and follow all label directions, and remember that these products are tools, not miracle workers or silver bullets. Pesticides cannot correct mistakes made in plant selection, installation, or maintenance.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Spring Bling
Well, it sure was a long time coming, but Spring has finally nudged the ground in New York. While we "upstaters" are just delighting in the newfound riches of daffodils, tulips, crocus and hyacinths--my pal in the Austin, Texas, area has been enjoying sweeping views of botanical bounty for a good many weeks. Since I never tire of Mother Nature's show, I thought I'd share a few shots of the spectacular offerings from across our beautiful country:
Seen here are the famous bluebonnets of Texas. This photo, taken by fellow landscape-lover, Tammy Rice, in the Texas Hill Country around Fredricksburg, near Austin, is a stunning display of nature's intrinsic artistry. And it seems we humans aren't the only ones who appreciate it:
Seems a few does are happy to partake of the floral feast spread before them. My friend, Beth, who lives halfway between Dallas and Austin, describes a recent Spring morning in her yard so elegantly that I just had to share her words:
"Thanks to Ladybird Johnson, wildflowers are protected in Texas, and the bluebonnets are in a raging bloom this year, fields of blue as far as you can see, with patches of Indian Paintbrush and evening primrose interspersed. It's like God opened up heaven and tossed armloads of color down on the earth. The clover patches in my lawn are in bloom with pretty sweet smelling yellow sunshine flowers, and the chickweed is lovely with orchid-like lavender blooms. I enjoy the tiny flowers the weeds produce, so I have purposely not put down sod, preferring the natural Texas grasses."
Just when I'm convinced that I need to book a flight down south, I look out my own window and see my magnolia "Stellata," just beginning to bloom. It's a sure sign of things to come. Venturing into the yard, I capture a photo of the emerging daffodils, just beginning to turn their sunny faces skyward, and a single, tender grape hyacinth trying diligently to make it's mark in the sparse flowerbeds. It's valiant effort makes me realize the gems I have right here, right now. Pushing up through the leaf litter.
Seen here are the famous bluebonnets of Texas. This photo, taken by fellow landscape-lover, Tammy Rice, in the Texas Hill Country around Fredricksburg, near Austin, is a stunning display of nature's intrinsic artistry. And it seems we humans aren't the only ones who appreciate it:
Seems a few does are happy to partake of the floral feast spread before them. My friend, Beth, who lives halfway between Dallas and Austin, describes a recent Spring morning in her yard so elegantly that I just had to share her words:
"Thanks to Ladybird Johnson, wildflowers are protected in Texas, and the bluebonnets are in a raging bloom this year, fields of blue as far as you can see, with patches of Indian Paintbrush and evening primrose interspersed. It's like God opened up heaven and tossed armloads of color down on the earth. The clover patches in my lawn are in bloom with pretty sweet smelling yellow sunshine flowers, and the chickweed is lovely with orchid-like lavender blooms. I enjoy the tiny flowers the weeds produce, so I have purposely not put down sod, preferring the natural Texas grasses."
Just when I'm convinced that I need to book a flight down south, I look out my own window and see my magnolia "Stellata," just beginning to bloom. It's a sure sign of things to come. Venturing into the yard, I capture a photo of the emerging daffodils, just beginning to turn their sunny faces skyward, and a single, tender grape hyacinth trying diligently to make it's mark in the sparse flowerbeds. It's valiant effort makes me realize the gems I have right here, right now. Pushing up through the leaf litter.
Thursday, April 9, 2015
April absolutes: 3 things to do today to ensure a glorious garden
Spring is finally ready to pounce into view in upstate New York. Due, in part, to a colder-than-normal February, I've noticed the first spring-bloomers have held off a few weeks. Now, my friend, Beth, in Texas, has reported that the daffodils have already bloomed out by her, but up in the nation's northernmost reaches, the narcissus and hyacinths have been shy. They don't want to expose themselves to unnecessary harshness.
I understand their reluctance. And I'm able to remain patient because there are dozens of things to do to prep my garden for a glorious growing season. But the three most important are these:
1. Prune trees
2. Shape hedges
3. Get rid of moss (unless you are cultivating it)
As the saying goes, "There is a time for every purpose under heaven," and the time to cut back mature trees is now. From the final weeks of winter into the first few weeks of spring (roughly mid-March-mid April), prune deciduous trees before they begin to leaf out. Some trees, such as maples, "bleed" heavily when pruned in late winter or early spring. However, the heavy bleeding doesn't harm the trees. The trees won't bleed to death and the flow of sap will gradually slow and stop.
Be careful when pruning oak trees. Cutting them after mid-April is dangerous because it can spread what is known as "oak wilt." Pruning oaks from mid-April to mid-July may attract sap beetles carrying the oak wilt fungus to the pruning cuts, and transmit the disease to healthy trees. In my opinion, the best time to prune oaks is late February through the first week or two of April (in the northeast. Don't prune after April 1st in the south). If possible, avoid pruning deciduous trees in the spring as they are leafing out. At this time, the tree's energy reserves are low and the bark "slips" or tears easily. Another poor time to prune is during leaf drop in the fall. An excellent time to prune coniferous trees, like spruce and fir is late winter to early spring, when they are still dormant. Spruce and fir possess side or lateral buds. The pruning cut should be just above a side bud or branch. Hold off on cutting back pines, which are best pruned in early June to early July. At this time, the new growth is in the "candle" stage. Pinching or snapping off one-half to two-thirds of the pine's candle reduces the annual growth. And unwanted lower branches on all evergreen trees can be removed in late winter. Last, but not least: fruit trees. The best time to prune them is late February to the first week or two of April. Fruit trees pruned in fall or early winter may be susceptible to winter injury. And, obviously, cutting off limbs in spring will reduce the amount of fruit yield.
The first few weeks in spring is an excellent time to shape hedges. Not only is it better for the shrubs, but it enables gardeners to "get in there" without trampling over tender perennials just emerging from the soil. Mature or neglected spring-flowering shrubs often require extensive pruning to rejuvenate or renew the plants. The best time to rejuvenate large, overgrown shrubs is late winter or early spring (mid-February to mid-April) before the plants begin to leaf out. While heavy pruning in late winter or early spring will reduce or eliminate the flower display for a season or so, the restoration of a healthy, vigorous shrub is more important.
If spring-flowering hedges (like forsythia) need only light pruning, cautiously cut them back immediately after blooming. This allows the gardener to enjoy the spring flower display, and gives the shrubs adequate time to initiate new flower buds for next season. Summer-flowering shrubs, such as potentilla and Japanese spirea and hydrangea (the white paniculata) bloom on the current year's growth. Prune these shrubs in late winter or early spring. Summer-flowering shrubs pruned from mid-February to early April will still bloom in summer. Many deciduous shrubs don't produce attractive flowers. These shrubs may possess attractive bark, fruit, or fall leaf color. Prune these shrubs in late winter or early spring also. Never prune deciduous shrubs in late summer. Pruning shrubs in August or early September may encourage a late flush of growth. This new growth may not harden sufficiently before the arrival of cold weather and be susceptible to winter injury. Evergreen hedges, such as juniper and yew, need snipping in late March through mid-April, before new growth begins. Light pruning may also be done in late June or early July. Avoid pruning evergreen shrubs in the fall. Fall pruned evergreens are more susceptible to winter injury. As for unwanted greenery, like that pesky moss which perennially pops up amid your grass blades, April is the month to pull out all the stops. These nonparasitic, primitive green plants reproduce by means of wind-blown spores. And April is the month that the spores kick into high gear. Mosses typically form a thick, green mat on the soil surface. They produce their own food and do not kill grass plants, but rather fill in the spaces in the lawn where grass is not growing.
If mosses are present in your lawn, it indicates that conditions are not favorable for the growth of a healthy stand of grass but are favorable for the growth of mosses. The conditions that favor mosses over grass include: excessive shade, acidic soil, poor drainage, compacted soil, excessive irrigation, low soil fertility or some combination of these conditions.
The most common cause of moss-growth is lack of light, but it won't be a problem going forward if diligent gardeners have trimmed back trees and hedges--steps one and two of my must-do plan. Now, all you need to do is step into your newly renovated, sunlight-filled yard with a box of baking soda. Sprinkle existing moss just before a rainstorm because water activates the baking soda, prompting its moss-kicking properties to shift into high gear. Wait until moss turns yellowish, then simply rake it out, and toss new seed onto sparse spaces just after Mother's Day to ensure tender seedlings grow thick and strong.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
April fowl's day
Okay, so yesterday was April 1st--April Fool's Day to us, but our feathered friends are never fooled. Each year, "snowbirds" trek back north to enjoy our cooler summer temps, and delight the rest of us in the process.
Without even knowing the date, I could tell Spring had officially arrived when I saw the first Robin hopping around the back lawn in search of a juicy worm or two. I thought about the fact that we see fewer Robins in winter because they are conscientiously less conspicuous (although some of them do migrate short distances). They gather into groups that prefer rural areas, or regions where there are few people, but available food.
In spring the Robins are more obvious because they are moving back into more populated areas. The flocks break up in an activity called " breeding dispersal." Robins are not community nesters. Each pair has it's own territory. This results in the Robins being more obvious to the casual observer because they are spread over a large area.
I had little time to ponder this as a raucous party of European Starlings demanded my attention. Perched together in their customary flocks, I followed their less-than-melodious calls to the treetops and witnessed nearly 50 of them congregating in the nearby oaks. Whipping out my camera, I was able to capture their silhouettes against the overcast sky. The effect, pictured above, is that of an abstract painting.
The only thing that distracted me from that ruckus was the jazzy honking coming from even higher up. Looking straight up into the sky, I spotted the Canada geese, flying in their telltale arrowhead formation. They may be the bane of every park groundskeeper's existence, but I always welcome them back. They are a harbinger of long days of light past 7 pm, soft seasonal breezes, fat raindrops and lush, flowering plants of all shapes and sizes. I smile as I watch them make their transitory trek across my little sliver of sky, thinking, Good to see you again, old friends.
Without even knowing the date, I could tell Spring had officially arrived when I saw the first Robin hopping around the back lawn in search of a juicy worm or two. I thought about the fact that we see fewer Robins in winter because they are conscientiously less conspicuous (although some of them do migrate short distances). They gather into groups that prefer rural areas, or regions where there are few people, but available food.
In spring the Robins are more obvious because they are moving back into more populated areas. The flocks break up in an activity called " breeding dispersal." Robins are not community nesters. Each pair has it's own territory. This results in the Robins being more obvious to the casual observer because they are spread over a large area.
I had little time to ponder this as a raucous party of European Starlings demanded my attention. Perched together in their customary flocks, I followed their less-than-melodious calls to the treetops and witnessed nearly 50 of them congregating in the nearby oaks. Whipping out my camera, I was able to capture their silhouettes against the overcast sky. The effect, pictured above, is that of an abstract painting.
The only thing that distracted me from that ruckus was the jazzy honking coming from even higher up. Looking straight up into the sky, I spotted the Canada geese, flying in their telltale arrowhead formation. They may be the bane of every park groundskeeper's existence, but I always welcome them back. They are a harbinger of long days of light past 7 pm, soft seasonal breezes, fat raindrops and lush, flowering plants of all shapes and sizes. I smile as I watch them make their transitory trek across my little sliver of sky, thinking, Good to see you again, old friends.
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