New Year's resolutions

2017 is nearly here! It's a great time to do what people do this time of year: make resolutions. Since an ecofriendly lifestyle is something I feel strongly about, my resolutions involve devising new ways to think about environmental problems. I've come up with three "eco-challenges," for myself, which all involve little more than a shift in mindset. I've kept it simple because, as we all know, intricate plans become difficult to sustain as the months wear on. Here, ways I plan to enrich myself, and disseminate helpful info to the larger landscape:

1. Keep an open mind

As we get older, I think there's a tendency to think we "know it all." We find it easy to discount unfamiliar notions, especially from those younger than we are. I've been bumping up against new ideas recently, and feeling myself getting cranky. One of those ideas is about veganism. I have to admit, up until a few years ago, I hardly knew any vegetarians, but nowadays many folks are touting the personal and environmental benefits of not only a meat-free lifestyle, but an existence of non-exploitive animal practices. Translation: living without ingesting or utilizing things like red meat, fish, fowl, dairy, honey, leather or wool. Seemed harsh to me. I kept wondering how fruits and vegetables could possibly cover daily nutritional requirements of those who became vegan. I'm not gonna lie: I still wonder about this. That's why I've been making an effort to learn about what it means to be vegan. Among my environmental discoveries: To produce one pound of animal protein vs. one pound of soy protein, it takes about 12 times as much land and fossil fuel, and 15 times as much water. I'm not sure a vegan lifestyle is for me--or even a vegetarian one, if I'm honest--but I certainly can cut back on my meat intake. These are issues that need our attention.

2. Read more

I'm a big reader. Always have been. I've realized lately, though, I'm not devoting enough of my "reading time" to environmental issues and practices. An eco-related question will pop into my head--and then exit just as quickly, without adequate exploration. An example: I found myself wondering about the state of the ozone layer. I've caught snippets of conversations and news reports recently chatting up the issue, but I had no idea if the initiatives begun in the late 1980's to reduce ozone-destroying chlorofluorocarbon emissions have reaped any benefits. I remember the debates back then--my first real exposure to man vs. environment issues. I recall the culprits--things like aerosol propellants (hairspray comes to mind) and old-school refrigerants which spit vast amounts of the toxic chlorine cocktail into the air. Most of all, I remember the worldwide ban, a unique partnership between developed countries to safeguard the fragile layer of ozone shielding us from the sun's most harmful rays. Time to head to the Internet and catch up on some reading. Three credible sources--National Geographic magazine, Popular Mechanics, and NASA itself--all report good news: the hole in the ozone layer above the Antarctic appears to be shrinking. Apparently, the once 29.9-million-mile hole has shrunk to 24.1 million miles. While it's still a gaping wound 30 years after the initiative went into effect (the news sources report those chlorine particles have a shelf life of up to 100 years!) we seem to be headed in the right direction. Glad I read about it.

3. Disperse

Like sowing seeds into fertile soil, it's vital to share environmental news and ideas with others. Social media has made our very large world unbelievably accessible. With all the platforms available, we have no difficulty spreading information. Let's make sure it's the well-meaning, thoughtful--and thought-provoking--information that will benefit us all.

Winter begins

There's something magical about that first snowfall of the season, isn't there? Coating the ground in a shimmer of white, and concealing those last vestiges of fall: the stubborn leaves that refused to be corralled. It's a relief, really, to be on to something new--a new world outside, a blank slate, if you will. At our house, it means the pristine, snowy groundcover is prime real estate, ready to be marked up by eager puppies excited to play in the white stuff (note the paw prints scattered along the ground in the photo, above).

Ours first big snowfall conveniently arrived just before the first official day of winter. With temperatures diving, sending northeasterners running for cover, there's something timeless and wonderful about glancing out an ice-trimmed window just as our joyous holidays approach, and feeling the warmth lit from within. There's a reason so many Christmas songs tout the virtues of snow. It's tied up in our minds with peace, warmth, silent nights, decked halls and friendly gatherings. Many of us find ourselves wishing for snow and all it stands for: cookie-making, traditional Christmas songs, a flurry of shopping and decorating, and the universal wish to celebrate with family and friends. Gone is last winter's focus on slick roads and hazardous driving conditions, dingy gray mid-February snowbanks along the roads, bitter winds and the endless ache of cold fingers and toes. There's no room in our brains for negative thoughts among our Currier-and-Ives images and holiday dreams of "the most wonderful time of the year". If only we could be so optimistic during the other eleven months!

Whatever traditions and religious rituals you celebrate, may the cheer of this holiday season surround you like the new-fallen snow. May it cover over the old disappointments and inspire you to focus on all the good, fresh and wondrous things in your lives.

The Christmas flower

Like most plant enthusiasts in the northeast, I bemoan the fact that I can't enjoy my flower garden in the cold-weather months. I miss the cheery blooms and sweet aroma of growing things all around me. Luckily, I get a quick "flower fix" during the holiday season, when a bevy of Poinsettia cultivars pop up around the shops in town. Each year I'm fascinated by the new hybrids of the Christmas staple.

This go-to holiday plant, indigenous to Mexico, has made its way into Christmas floral displays since 1825, when it was first introduced to our country by Dr. Joel Roberts Poinsett, the very first U.S. minister to Mexico. It's been dazzling us ever since.

The actual plant itself is fascinating. The "flowers" are the tiny yellow specks in the center of the colored bracts--a bract being sort of a modified leaf, if you will. The plant, Euphorbia pulcherrima, is widely considered the horticultural symbol of Christmas, but how it actually came to be so is up for debate.

Many think it's because of the deep red-hue of the first well-known poinsettia bracts. Of course, there is such variety in this plant nowadays, that the poinsettia you choose for your holiday decorating can be white, pink, coral--even spray-painted "fantasy" poinsettias (like deep purple or shocking blue), which can match any color scheme or mood.

Some say the plant's growing habit shaped it's destiny. The traditional star-shaped bracts were thought to echo the form of the Star of Bethlehem. Once again, that's not necessarily the norm for modern-day poinsettia lovers. Nowadays, this plant comes in many shapes and sizes. The Winter Rose poinsettia (pictured in foreground, above) looks like, well, a rose. Note the deep green leaves, which surround this beauty in rich, velvety foliage. Some cultivars have speckled colored bracts, others have variegated lower leaves (see photo, below). As far as this plant is concerned, anything goes! And isn't that what the Season is about: not only accepting all our differences, but embracing the variety--and reveling in it!

Season's Greetings, my friends.

Evergreens--for Christmas and beyond!

There are few plants as alluring as the boxwood. A standout in the garden due to its perennial greenery and pliable nature, I've long thought of this longstanding favorite as the shrub of kings. The exotic knot and topiary gardens in places like Versailles and Hampton Court are fashioned from the rich, uniform branches of this horticultural staple. Yet this versatile vegetation is equally at home in it's natural, mounded state--and just as lovely.

For a number of years I've coveted this plant as not only a top pick for any style of garden, but as indoor décor. The plant's deep hue, simple growth pattern, malleability and lasting nature make it perfect for indoor (and outdoor) wreathes and garlands--especially around the holidays. In fact, there's little I don't love about this plant--except the price. Decking your halls in boxwood can be prohibitively expensive. A typical 22"-24" boxwood wreath can cost anywhere from $50 to $150.

One way to get around boxwood's pricey nature is to preserve it, which allows for a number of seasons worth of enjoyment. But preserving takes planning and patience.

As my grandmother used to say, you have time or you have money, but you seldom have both. You can part with big bucks and order up all the boxwood you need. Be prepared to spend between $150-$400 (before shipping) for approximately four three-foot garlands. Why? The process is tedious (unless you're like me and you enjoy DIY garden projects).

If you enjoy a bit of a challenge, why not attempt to preserve your own boxwood? Here's how:

First, head outside and trim your hedges (mid-November is best). Rinse them well to get rid of any critters. Next, find a half dozen decorative watertight containers and fill them with hot water, glycerin and concentrated food coloring. The ratio is two parts hot water to one part glycerin, and one part dye. The glycerin costs about $3-$4 per bottle and you'll need two for a typical wreath. You'll also need one bottle of the food coloring, which runs about $2 a bottle. These items are easily found at places like Walmart, Michael's and Hobby Lobby.

Fill the containers with the water mixture, then stuff the cut boxwood stem in, being careful not to wedge too many of them in each container, as this seems to encourage bacterial growth. The bonus: these makeshift projects offer lovely shots of greenery around the house.

Give the process time, allowing stems to sit for 3-4 weeks, until they soak up all the solution. Then pat them dry and grab some florist wire--it's time to string your wreathes and garlands! Keep the wire toward the bottom of each branch and gently wind an inch or two around each connecting stem until you establish the pattern you like. This may take some practice. Also, stems may go brown in some areas, since the solution may soak up differently by differing stems. Once your creation is all set, you can cover the whole thing lightly with matte green spray paint. But before you do, test it on a few sample twigs.

Experiment. Enjoy. After all, 'Tis the season for greenery and fun!

A standout evergreen in the winter garden

I think winter is the best time to enjoy evergreen plants, and one of my favorites is Juniperus communis, AKA common juniper.

Juniper is a coniferous shrub or tree, ranging in height from 6-25 feet tall. It can also grow as a spreading shrub, extending similar distances along the ground, excellent for anchoring soil in uneven or rocky areas. Its needle-like leaves grow in whorls and consist of the green portion and a single white stomatal band on the inner surface.

A dioecious plant, juniper has both male and female parts. Male flowers are yellow and female blossoms are green. The fruit is spherical cones that look very much like berries. Initially green, the pseudo-berries ripen in about 18 months to a purple-black hue with a waxy blue coating. Fused scales line each cone's surface, and each one contains one tiny seed. Birds nibble on the cones and pass the intact, wax-coated seeds in their droppings. These cones are also wind pollinated, spreading far and wide to separate plants with nothing more than a gusty breeze.

Oil of juniper has been commonly used in medicines for many years, however, it's the distillates from juniper berries that make a favored alcoholic beverage: gin. Ironically, ancient herbalists prescribed juniper-berry chewing to aid digestion in recovering alcoholics!

The wood from juniper trees has been fashioned into everything from fence posts to pencils, so whittle yourself a wooden cup, fill it with gin and toast the versatile juniper this holiday season!

Fond farewell to fall--and preparing for next season!

As autumn gracefully concedes to the next season, I thought it might be fun to take a look back on the season that was. As evidenced in the photos that my friend sent me a few weeks ago, fall leaves were stunning this season:

Now that winter is nearly upon us, make sure you've put your garden to bed and tidied up all your horticultural tools so they'll be in tip-top shape come Spring. Clean all your implements with soap and water, then wipe down blades with a rag coated in veggie oil. Just like work-worn hands, garden tools need moisture to stay fresh and useful.

Now's the time to prune bearded iris, catmint, beebalm, crocosmia, daylily, peony, liatris and corydalis (to name just a few). Remove the spent leaves to reduce the chance of attracting fungus and other diseases.

Although most perennials can indeed be cut back in fall, there are always exceptions. The obvious ones that jump into my mind are chrysanthemum, butterfly weed, iris and coral bells. These plants all prefer to stand through the winter, using their own foliage to protect themselves and provide a food source for next year's bloom.

As I've often mentioned, perennial grasses look divine when dusted with snow, so let them stand until they get beaten down under inches of the white stuff--then cut them back to a few inches above ground level. Leave hydrangeas alone. Next year's blossoms (blue and pink bloomers) will take place on existing stems (you can always remove spent flowers). NEVER prune rose bushes in fall. Wait until new growth begins each Spring, then carefully cut back old wood.

A little TLC now will go a long way toward making your garden glorious next year, and beyond.

Fond farewell to fall--and preparing for next season!

As autumn gracefully concedes to the next season, I thought it might be fun to take a look back on the season that was. As evidenced in the photos that my friend sent me a few weeks ago, fall leaves were stunning this season:

Now that winter is nearly upon us, make sure you've put your garden to bed and tidied up all your horticultural tools so they'll be in tip-top shape come Spring. Clean all your implements with soap and water, then wipe down blades with a rag coated in veggie oil. Just like work-worn hands, garden tools need moisture to stay fresh and useful.

Now's the time to prune bearded iris, catmint, beebalm, crocosmia, daylily, peony, liatris and corydalis (to name just a few). Remove the spent leaves to reduce the chance of attracting fungus and other diseases.

Although most perennials can indeed be cut back in fall, there are always exceptions. The obvious ones that jump into my mind are chrysanthemum, butterfly weed, iris and coral bells. These plants all prefer to stand through the winter, using their own foliage to protect themselves and provide a food source for next year's bloom.

As I've often mentioned, perennial grasses look divine when dusted with snow, so let them stand until they get beaten down under inches of the white stuff--then cut them back to a few inches above ground level. Leave hydrangeas alone. Next year's blossoms (blue and pink bloomers) will take place on existing stems (you can always remove spent flowers). NEVER prune rose bushes in fall. Wait until new growth begins each Spring, then carefully cut back old wood.

A little TLC now will go a long way toward making your garden glorious next year, and beyond.

Get in shape!

Wandering past Rainbow Row in Charleston, I turned toward the Battery and peered into the beautiful gardens lining the park. The one above particularly caught my eye. At first glance it appears not only opulent and beautifully tended, but intricate. The kind of outdoor space that draws us in, yet at the same time deflates us. How could we possibly have such a lovely landscape without a full-time gardening staff?

We can! By incorporating the right materials into a clever design, any garden can look lush without extravagant cost--in cash or time. If you look closely at the layout you'll see basic principles at play. First we'll look at garden style. This one is fairly symmetrical, in keeping with the traditional nature of the historic Charleston area.

Next, let's break down the design. It appears the landscape architect cut the yard into curved rooms, each one surrounded by boxwood walls. Breaking up a large area into various shapes adds character to a space. Ovals and circles create interest in square or rectangular yards. Outlining each shape in evergreen hedging is rather like putting a frame around a photograph--it highlights what's inside and manages to look properly presented.

Finally, we'll focus on materials. Flowerbeds appear to be edged in reclaimed bricks, a natural selection for this stately landscape. Traditional garden statuary, wrought-iron gates and a brick wall enclose the area and ramp up the charm factor, while crushed stone defines the garden paths.

The initial cash outlay is considerable, since it takes a few hundred plants to produce the hedging effect, yet each boxwood plant in the heart of the space is small (only the mature hedge along the left side of the yard has attained 3-4 feet). Many nurseries sell in bulk, so check into the possibility before purchasing plants. It's possible to get each 1-2 foot plant for five or six dollars. The good news is, if planted and tended properly, a good hedge will last for many years. As for plants inside each hedged area...be creative. Go formal with roses or crazy exotic with yucca and prickly pear. Your designs are limited only by your imagination.

Bricks, stone, concrete statues and wrought iron gates can be costly, so incorporate them into your garden a little at a time. Peruse quarries and plant nurseries in the off season in order to score some bargains. Hit up the discount home goods stores in search or special outdoor finds.

As for maintenance, hedges are deceptively easy to keep in shape. Invest in a good electric trimmer and hit your hedge once a month to keep stray branches at bay. It may seem like a lot of work, but spending an hour or so each month equals a four-hour investment per summer. Easy peasy.

Hardy Halloween herb

     What better plant to pick up this week of Halloween than Skullcap? Properly known as Scutellaria lateriflora, this hardy perennial herb of the mint family is a North American native--guaranteed to flourish in the northeastern U.S.
     Its upright growth reaches, on average, about three feet, with rich, ridged leaves and delicate, bi-lobed blue flowers (which resemble the military helmets worn by early European settlers, and are, therefore named for them). The interesting thing about the buds is that they grow along the main spike--not on top of it--producing a "nodding" effect, which fills in nicely between other plants. 
     Another plus, in my opinion, is that this wetland-loving species thrives in meadows, and near marshes and other wet habitat--places that aren't always conducive to flowering plants. Is there a better place for a Halloween plant to flourish than in a swamp? Well, maybe a graveyard.
     Historically, the plant was used to treat insomnia and spasms--even rabies! In fact, settlers in the late 1700's promoted the herb's effectiveness as a rabies cure, giving rise to one of its common names: mad dog weed. This claim was later discarded. Ya think? I wouldn't suggest using it medicinally for any kind of bite...perhaps a vampire bite....
    Seriously though, the plant is known to have substantial medicinal value. I don't promote products on this site, or make medical claims of any kind. If you want to use this herb as a remedy of any kind, you're on your own. But if you want to plant it in your shady, boggy garden, I'm right there with you. In fact, I plan on hunting for this gem now, before the first frost hits my region.

High-tech garden help

Remember the days of leafing through the Yellow Pages in search of help? Getting a phone number, making a call...and waiting for an expert to arrive at the doorstep. As we all know, today's technologies usher a multitude of pros through our virtual doorways each and every day.

When it comes to gardening, there are new websites and apps popping up every day to aid hopeful horticulturists. One of my favorites is called Yardmap.org. Check it out. You'll learn about your area's ecoregion--the unique combination of living and nonliving factors that set your landscape apart and determine what will flourish there (mine is Eastern Broadleaf Forest). You'll also get handy info about:

--Indigenous shrubs, trees and perennials that thrive in your region
--Pollinator guide for individual regions
--Local E-bird reports
--Ways to connect with experts in each area of the country
--Local community resources, like plant arboretums and nurseries

Another really cool feature of this site is that it enables you to connect with virtual and real neighbors alike. You draw a habitat map of your own yard and--using the satellite imagery loaded into the site--you can map your actual acreage. Every time you update your map (like planting a new shrub) you are transforming your landscape and sharing this info with a network of novices and pros connected with the citizen science project. Pretty cool, right?

One question people often ask me is, "Now that the leaves are falling, how can I determine what trees are in my area?" Few of us know each and every tree by its bark and growth habit, so take a nice autumn stroll through local parks and forests this weekend--before all the leaves drop. Bring along your smart phone, preloaded with a handy app called "Leafsnap".  This app, billed as the first in a series of electronic field guides being developed by researchers from Columbia University, the University of Maryland, and the Smithsonian Institution, is free and uses visual recognition software to help identify tree species from photographs of their leaves. When you see a tree you can't identify, select the app, collect one of the tree's leaves, place it on a white surface and snap a photo. The app does the rest, providing you with photos of similar leaves that you can compare yours with.

The best thing about these technological advances (in my humble opinion) is that they encourage tangible teaching moments, offering us a way to get outside and enjoy all that nature has to offer, and learn a little something in the process.

Rethinking leaf litter

     When I was a kid, I vividly recall one large oak tree in my neighbor's yard. Here's why this tree was so memorable: 1. It was tremendous. 2. Every fall its leaves changed from green to burnished bronze, making the whole thing look like it was on fire. 3. The leaves fell off--every single one of them--in a single day. Imagine the leaf piles just begging for a kid like me to jump in?
     I have such powerful memories of that one tree--of standing at the bus stop watching the first leaves begin to drop, 20 or 30 at a time--to coming home after school to watch the incredible shedding continue, and sitting outside until dark, seeing if I could identify the final few to fall.
     Of course every kid wants leaves to remain on the ground as playthings, but there are so many reasons to view fallen leaves as beneficial to our yards rather than as eyesores.
     We've got to change our mindset on this one. Instead of thinking of them as leaf litter, view them as a vital link to healthy outdoor spaces. Recall your grade-school science classes and the lessons learned there. That's when we first discovered that decomposing leaves release goodies like carbon, nitrogen and phosphorus--critical for supporting life forms such as fungus (mushrooms), beneficial bacteria, insects and invertebrates.
     Many invertebrates, in fact, lay eggs on leaf litter. Removing leaves also takes away some of next year's butterflies and moths! Additionally, leaves provide vital foraging space for small mammals, insects and birds. Some bird species declines have been linked with decrease of invertebrates on the forest floor.
     Here's a way to compromise: Rather than bagging all our fallen comrades, let some lie around trees, shrubs and perennials. They make an excellent mulch, helping retain moisture around plants, improving soil composition, and protecting them from harsh winter winds and killing temperature dips. If your plants could talk, they'd thank you. And the wider world would give you props, as well, for increasing the biodiversity of your outdoor spaces.
    As for me, I'm going to gently rake a portion of my leaves into the compost piles I have set up along the perimeter of my property--and I just might make a trip back to my hometown to see if that giant oak tree is still standing.

Autum colors

In my post just about a year ago, I explored exactly why leaves change color in fall (less sunlight diminishing photosynthesis reduces their ability to make chlorophyll, which keeps leaves green), and the reason different leaves change into different shades (due to varying pigments within their individual structures), but I didn't delve deeply into the role weather plays in the annual metamorphosis of the leaves.

The amount of precipitation accumulated throughout the entire year determines when leaves turn, and how long their color will last. Too much rain and/or snow or a late spring could push the color change back by a week--or longer, while severe drought may cause the leaves to drop early, especially on weaker or younger trees. I've noticed this around my town. We had a very dry summer in the Northeast, so the changing leaves aren't able to reach peak color before dropping off.

Another issue: temperature. For the best foliage, the fall season has to be moderately cold. If it’s too warm--like it's been here lately--the colors won’t be as bright, but will last longer. Too cold and the leaves may turn straight to brown. Frost kills.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about autumn leaves is that we can't control what happens. Ironically, its that lack of human intervention in the process that produces the magical moments we cherish. You know the feeling of stepping out on a crisp fall morning and looking around you--marveling at the colorful patterns of gold and yellow, orange and red. Nature's kaleidoscope. Enjoy the fleeting fantasy! In a few weeks you'll be piling a plethora of brown remnants into leaf bags and hauling them to the curb.

Planting Valerian: a bold choice

     In an ongoing effort to learn more about the flora all around us, I have decided to devote the first posting of each month to a specific plant, focusing on the benefits and drawbacks of placing it in a garden. Together, we can discover the properties of plants that we previously knew little or nothing about, with the aim of expanding our horticultural horizons.

     This month's feature is Valeriana officinalis, commonly called Valerian. I've only been vaguely aware of this herb, but it has properties that intrigue me, so let's take a closer look!

     A perennial that thrives in zones 5-8, it boasts delicate heads of sweetly scented lilac, pink or white flowers that bloom from late spring right through summer. The heady aroma was so enticing to 16th-century perfume-makers that they pressed valerian flower extracts into service, scenting the wrists of fair ladies of the day. Among the most outrageous uses of that time was its application to ward off the plague.

     Native to areas of Asia and Europe, the plant has long been naturalized in North America. Its flowers, on decorative stalks that can reach 5 feet high, are frequented by many species of flies, butterflies, and moths--making this perennial a plus for butterfly gardens.

     Historically, this plant has been cultivated as a drug plant, of sorts. Preparations of valerian yield sedative properties, and it's often been prescribed for insomnia. Additionally, tea made from its root has been used to soothe muscular pains, spasms and cramps. Not being in the medical field myself,  I make no claims to the effectiveness of such uses. In fact, my research has indicated that chronic use of valerian root is linked to depression. Ironically, it's been discovered to entice cats. Pet owners can check out the labels of their catnip to see if valerian is listed among the ingredients.

     On the upside, this plant thrives in sunny and shady areas. It likes wet feet, and often pops up in the moist crevices of moss-covered rocks. On the downside, it can take over an area. In fact, it's considered an invasive species in Connecticut, and planting it is banned in that state. To keep spreading at bay, simply cut off flowers in early summer, when their fragrance is at peak. This will not only ensure gorgeous, fragrant floral bouquets and centerpieces, but keeps valerian from reseeding.

Is this plant for you? I would say yes if the following criteria apply: you have open space you need to fill in and you aren't worried about the plant becoming invasive; you're creating a butterfly garden; you enjoy cut-flowers and need an abundance of attractive, aromatic florals for centerpieces and bouquets.

When to avoid this plant: If you have a small garden space and/or little time to tend to its upkeep. Valerian is not obedient; you may get more than you bargained for if you allow seeds to spread.

Plant herbs in autumn

As it gets cooler outside, I like to make big pots of soup and hearty sauces to warm up from the inside. My recipes taste so much better when I flavor them with fresh herbs like the basil and parsley on my chopping board (above).

 Known as culinary herbs, the mild or savory ones add a delicate flavor to food while the stronger or pungent herbs impart zest. And since these herbs are varied and  attractive, their ornamental value is also important.

Their ornamental appeal enables them to be used in flower beds, rock gardens, and borders. Some herbs are annuals while others are perennial, coming up every year. Care for the herb garden will be similar to your vegetable or flower gardens. Most herbs love sunny, well-drained locations. Apply a slow-release fertilizer at the rate of 2 pounds per 100 square feet to your herb garden in mid to late summer.

Water as necessary during dry periods. Generally, you need about one inch of water per week, if not supplied by natural rainfall. A mulch will help conserve soil moisture and reduce weeds. The mints prefer moist soil so they will require more frequent watering (especially in full sun).

Annual and biennial herbs can be established by planting the seed directly in the garden or starting seeds indoors for later transplanting to the garden. You can save seed produced by the herb plants for next year's crop or get seed from your local garden center or seed catalog. To save your own seed, harvest the entire seed head after it has dried on the plant. The seeds should then be allowed to dry in a protected location that is cool and dry (I store them in brown paper bags in my basement). After the seeds are thoroughly dry, pluck seeds from the seed heads and discard the rest.

Leaves of many herbs such as parsley and chives can be harvested for fresh seasonings. On these plants you can gradually remove some of the leaves as you need them. Don't remove all the foliage at one time. These plants will produce over a long period of time if they are well cared for.

On rosemary and thyme, clip the tops when the plants are in full bloom. Usually, leaves and flowers are harvested together. Basil, fennel, mint and parsley leaves can be cut and dried anytime.

After harvesting, hang the herbs in loosely tied bundles in a well-ventilated room. You can also spread the branches on a screen or cheesecloth. For herbs where leaves only are needed, the leaves can be spread on flat trays. Keep dust off the herbs by a cloth or similar protective cover that will allow moisture to pass through.

Enjoy your herbs all season. If you plant parsley, sage and rosemary in containers, bring them in just before the first frost. No such care is needed for oregano, chives and mint, which thrive year after year in my upstate New York garden--right next to the lavender. Herbal warriors like these defy ice, snow and ridiculously low temperatures!

All hail fall!

Happy first day of fall! Just because we've turned the page on summer doesn't mean autumn can't create a brand new chapter in your garden log. I know, most of the flowers have bloomed out, but there's still plenty of color out there! Besides the tried-and-true autumn staples--sedum, asters, goldenrod and chrysanthemums--there's a bevy of foliage waiting for planting by horticultural trail-blazers adventurous enough to set their garden paths ablaze!

Topping my colorful list are perennial grasses, which take autumn seriously, knowing it's their season to shine. The panicles of Northern Sea Oats start out green (above), but will finish with a copper flourish, while miscanthus cultivars produce burnished protrusions that catch the light in a veritable fireworks display of gold, burgundy and brass (see photos, below).

Other plants mellow out in cooler weather. For example, Hydrangea paniculata, change up their hues in autumn, their flower heads going from creamy white to rose. Joe Pye Weed's mop tops turn from bright pink to subtle salmon. Some shrubs offer up color in the form of fall berries, like beautyberry, viburnum, barberry and winterberry. A feast for the eyes--and wildlife.

And since all plants turn to seed, keep spent flower heads (like Rudbeckia and coneflower) in the garden throughout the season, so birds and beneficial bugs have something to snack on!

Top picks of favorite fall fruit

As soon as temperatures drop a bit, turning nights nippy and daytime air crisp and clean, our thoughts take a Pavlovian shift, falling hard for autumn's offerings. Summer berries are little more than sweet memories as we gaze at the budding apple trees around us. Like those famous dogs who couldn't control their responses to tasty morsels, our mouths water for the tangy, tart treats picked right off the trees.

There are so many varieties of apples are out there--far too many to list in this short post--and each type lends itself to a different delicacy. Below, I've listed some of my favorites in their tastiest forms.

McIntosh and Jonathan: Tangy but tender varieties that cook down nicely for applesauce

Braeburn and Rome: Firm, juicy with a touch of tartness. Best for baking whole

Fuji: super sweet and crisp. Great for candy apples

Honeycrisp: Nicely balanced between tart and sweet; a natural for salads

Gala: Juicy and sweet; perfect for pressing into cider

Granny Smith: Tart and sassy, but with sweet undertones--just like a granny you may know! Make an old-fashioned apple pie with this excellent specimen

Golden Delicious: Rich in texture, this type gives cobblers, crumb cakes and apple crisp a tasty edge

The best thing about any fresh-picked apple, no matter the variety? Biting into it, of course, and letting the juice run down your chin!

Create a stay-cation sanctuary

During a Labor Day family gathering this past week, a relative of mine talked about vacation.

"Time to start planning a trip so we have something to look forward to," she said.

That made me realize I don't take many extended trips away from home. I seldom feel the need to "get away from it all". For three seasons of the year there's always something new blooming in my home garden, and if I'm away too long I'll miss the show! If I do need a change of scenery, I head upstate to our modest house in the woods, where the nature-cultivated view always inspires and entertains.

It's not that I don't understand people's need to escape the everyday. As the world becomes increasingly crowded, noisy and intrusive, folks crave a break. Who doesn't long to unplug and relax every now and then? Going new places also sparks the imagination, and gives us the chance to cultivate friendships far and wide. For these reasons I enjoy venturing from upstate New York once or twice each winter to have a taste of the wider world. But come April, I'm right back where I love to be most: my own yard.

One of the main reasons my yard is so enticing to me is that it doesn't feel like a property in the middle of a neighborhood. Rows of smooth hydrangeas--backed by a privet hedge--prevent my northern neighbors from viewing my property (photo, above), as well as delighting me with seasonal scents and a knockout view of their own. The back and side yard to my south are layered in forsythia, a fast-growing perennial that can form a hedge in a season, and has amazing sound-proofing qualities. Visitors to my back-yard garden don't hear cars and lawnmowers from the streets and properties behind me--they hear birdsong and the trickle of fountains.

If you long for a retreat from the busy world but don't have the funds or desire to travel, try planting living hedges around your property to create your own little oasis. In addition to the shrubs and perennials I've already discussed, I've listed plants that I think make the best privacy protectors, grow the quickest, look the best, and last the longest:

Arborvitae: This tried-and-true shrub is your go-to for inexpensive hedging. By mid-fall (prime planting season) you can get a 6-foor shrub for as little as 25 bucks. My tip: plant them a little closer than directed on their tags to ensure you get a nice, tight hedge. Within a few years they will mesh and form a great wall of green. Yew is also a great choice.

Boxwood and hornbeam: These plants are both beautiful specimens if you want a more formal look. They're easy to clip and shape into hedges and a breeze to maintain (if you go out at regular intervals--try to establish a routine with these babies). The downside: they can be quite pricey.

Perennial grasses: If you have a summer place that you want to keep private but aren't really around in cold-weather months, grasses are the way to go. Grasses generally grow to a minimum of five feet (unless you specifically want a smaller variety). A stand of switch grasses will provide upright "fencing," like nature's soldiers standing at attention. If you want a more open, airy feel along your borders, opt for miscanthus. For all-out coverage, try the biggest of the bunch--a row of pompas grass will keep prying eyes and stray sounds away from your personal spaces.

If you've always loved the idea of floral fences, try climbing roses. You'll have to erect traditional wood, stone or wire fencing first, but if you buy enough rose bushes, you can completely cover the fencing with blossoms. This is a great option for a sunny, wide-open area that you'd like to enclose.

Whatever you choose to line your property with, plant in mid-fall, when temperatures are consistently cool, but not so cold that the plants can't successfully lay down roots and call your home their own.

Who rules nature?

Sometimes nature forces us to play favorites. Case in point: The hummingbird feeder taken over by a clever spider. Normally I don't get involved in wildlife border skirmishes. As my son has told me, I can't "play God." Best to let nature take it's course, right?

Wrong! When a crafty arachnid spins a food-gathering web from a splashy red feeder full of sweet-tasting "nectar" (as in the picture above--look real close to see his web and his curled up form beneath the feeder's "flower") he's got the fates slyly in his favor. I know it's his job. I also understand he needs to eat, just like the rest of us. Yeah, I guess he deserves to catch unwitting flies and hapless bugs. But hummingbirds weigh only 0.07 of an ounce. They could be trapped by the spider's nearly invisible web of death.

Sadly, there are many documented cases of this happening. And, I'm not gonna lie, I also hate it when one of my highly prized butterflies flits into the noxious network, suffering a slow, torturous demise. Most hummingbirds, however, know better than to get tangled in a spider's web, but when that web is so close to a coveted food source, I imagine it throws these tiny birds off their game a bit. It takes a lot of energy to keep those miniscule wings spinning--they flap them up to 80 times per second--so they are constantly seeking carbs to keep them charged. Get them close to a whole feeder full of food and I think they throw caution to the wind. Kinda like hazarding a stretch of desert in order to make it to the oasis.

I wasn't taking any chances. As gently as I could, I dislodged the top portion of the web and tried to anchor it on the porch post, but I think I ticked off the spider when a day or two passed and his mutilated web didn't catch a darn thing. I imagine he huffed off in disgust because when I checked this morning, he'd moved on. Sorry buddy. I'm the god of this garden.

Keeping dangerous wildlife out of your yard

A good friend of mine is vacationing this week in Maryland. She took the photo above from her beach chair amid the dunes at Assateague Island National Seashore. I don't know about you, but I think there are few things in this world as charming and inspiring as wild horses. They not only embody the spirit of freedom, but they seem able to seamlessly balance it with trust in the nearby human population. Every now and then they choose to mingle with people like they're doing in this shot.

Of course all of nature's creatures cross our paths at one time or another; it's up to us to decide how positive those interactions will be. During the years I've spent cultivating landscapes that enrich lives, I've learned that critter encounters are a vital component of the most rewarding experiences. Who hasn't paused to listen to the sorrowful lament of a mourning dove, followed the fluttering wings of a butterfly or peeked into a pond looking for fish? I've lost track of the myriad confrontations I've had with critters that fly, jump, crawl, run or slither through my yard. I'd have to say that 98% of those encounters have been good ones. Every now and then I'll come up against a garden visitor I'd prefer not to have calling upon me. Among the wildlife I'd prefer kept their distance are: bears, coyotes, and foxes.

Obviously we want to steer clear of these three types of wildlife, so prevalent in our northeastern woodlands. Although attacks on humans are rare, our pets can be highly susceptible to their hunting practices. Fortunately there are easy, eco-friendly and non-injurious ways to deter dangerous critters.

BEAR

Most injuries associated with bear/human encounters result when people feed them--directly or indirectly via gardens, bird feeders and full, unlatched trash cans. Bears are curious, and have a keen sense of smell. They are not fussy eaters. They prefer berries, nuts, grasses and carrion, but they've been known to eat from compost piles and lick grease off barbecue grills. They tend to mingle with humans during spring and summer months, after emerging from their dens, and from June until this time of year the males will roam, looking for mates. To keep them from checking into your yard for good, try the following:


--Store trash cans in a garage or shed, putting them out just before garbage collection
--Never leave pet food outside
--Dumpsters should be bolted and/or locked
--Make sure you latch sliding doors so only humans can open them
--If you see a bear at your bird feeder, remove the feeder for 1-2 weeks
--If you spot a bear with cubs, leave as quickly as you can (Mama bears aggressively protect their young)

COYOTE

Coyotes are actually small wolves. They hunt in packs of 2-3 and usually sleep in holes in the ground, increasing the odds of a chance encounter during your walk through the woods. They are carnivorous scavengers that can run up to 43 MPH, and will eat your small pet if they can catch it. They are most active during early morning and twilight hours. You will seldom hear a coyote approaching because they can actually tip toe. Walking on their toes helps them avoid other predators, and sneak up on you. To keep coyotes away, take these tips:

--Take woodland walks in the middle of the day
--Keep your yard free of food sources, which includes not leaving pets unattended.
--Report coyote sighting to local officials and keep neighbors apprised of their proximity
--Never try to catch one in a cage, call a licensed pro for that!

FOX

Foxes are seldom dangerous, unless you surprise them when they're with their young. These exotic creatures are often thought of as part dog and part cat, since they belong to the Canidae family along with dogs, but have vertically slitted eyes, retractable claws and behavior patterns like felines. There is no danger of foxes hunting pets since they seldom weigh more than 15 pounds, but they have been known to prey upon kittens. And the old adage about the fox in the henhouse is true--they are enthusiastic chicken-eaters! To keep them away from your coops:

--Get a Great Pyrenees or Akbash dog--they can be trained to chase foxes away
--Bright flashing lights deter foxes, especially if the flashing is staggered
--Try a net wire fence with openings 3 inches or less to exclude them. The fence should be sunk 1-2 feet into the ground, with an apron of net wire extending outward from the bottom at least 12 inches

Where are the monarch butterflies?

I've enjoyed my garden immensely this summer. The frogs in my pond have made it from tadpoles to adults, and are thriving. The birds are making good use of the feeders and birdbaths I've got scattered around the place, and the hummingbirds have finally shown up. It took them a while to discover the new feeder out front, but now that they know, I've got plenty of hummingbird activity on view each morning from my front porch.

I've seen so many butterflies! Yellow ones, blue ones--even black ones--but not the ones I long to see: the monarchs. Each day, I venture out in search of that flash of orange that tells me my beloved winged warriors are back from their trek northward from Mexico (and the next generation is frolicking among our plants), but I still haven't seen even one.

This morning I caught a flutter of brightness among the eupatorium. What I discovered was a faded, battered Eastern Tiger Swallowtail balanced delicately on the mop head of the Joe Pye weed. Butterfly sightings always make my heart soar, but today my heart dropped like a stone into my stomach. My little swallowtail was flying erratically. His wings were ragged, and the lower left quadrant was missing altogether, as though something had come along and taken a bite out of it (see photo, above). And he was all alone. No friends fluttering nearby. And still not a monarch in sight.

What's going on here? I asked myself, and immediately took to Google. Here's what I discovered:

It's been a tough year for butterflies. The weather has beaten up these little critters all over the country, but a rare snowstorm hit the hills in central Mexico this year, the place where the monarchs overwinter. The unusual weather there is responsible for wiping out a sizable number of the butterflies.

The problem of declining butterfly populations started years ago with urban sprawl, but became worse by major droughts in the U.S. a few years back.  Drought causes flowers to empty of nectar, and milkweed plants to die off, leading to the deaths of thousands of the winged insects. Ironically, this year's torrential rains and flooding made it harder for the butterflies to reproduce as they headed back north. In addition, there are concerns herbicides used on soybean and corn fields in the U.S. are killing off monarchs, since the chemicals have led to the die-off of milkweed plants. Milkweed is the only plant that monarchs lay eggs on. Its nectar is the sole food source for the young monarchs.

How to encourage the return of the monarch? Build a butterfly oasis in your backyard. As I've mentioned in previous posts, monarch-friendly plants include milkweed (Asclepias) for caterpillars to feed on, and flowers such as a butterfly bush (AKA Buddlea), for adult monarchs to drink from. And check out eButterfly.ca, a database that is helping researchers' document changes to the number and distribution of butterflies. Not only can you catch up on the latest buzz about butterflies, but you can share your observations, which benefits all of us.

Green giants

     I've often talked about the use of color in the garden, as well as proper plant placement for maximum impact, but it occurs to me that I haven't really touched upon the concept of scale. Of course it follows the laws of common sense to place smaller plants in tiny spaces and grander ones in vast, open areas, but most of our yards consist of a combination of the two.
    My yard--like most everyone else's-- is broken up into outdoor rooms, if you will: an array of areas arranged for specific purposes. I have a spot designated as my outdoor living room--the medium-sized patio. Potted plants of various sizes and a perennial bed of mostly small and mid-sized plants fill the non-usable areas. When the sun sets and the bugs come out, we move into the small screened porch. This space is too small to include more than a potted annual on the bistro set. The narrow front porch is the ideal place to have that first cup of coffee because the morning sun is warm and welcoming. I move my houseplants out here during the spring and summer seasons. To soothe my sense for the serene, I'll settle by the pond, on the tiny deck built over a portion of it. Here I have an array of water-loving perennials ranging from small to large.
     When I wandered outside this morning, I literally gasped at the sight of a giant hardy hibiscus (Hibiscus moscheutos) blooming in a new spot out near my greenhouse (pictured above). The dinner-plate dimension of the blossoms is impressive enough to stop even die-hard nature haters in their tracks. Of course the crimson hue of this Luna Red beauty is stunning, but it's the size that really gives one pause,
     I planted it in early spring in a sprawling field of pachysandra, along with five rose bushes. The area is not only spacious, but busy: a greenhouse with a porch, fountain, competing plants, and all that groundcover. I figured anything that was going to dazzle among such delightful chaos had better have an impact. The hibiscus surely does.
     If you have wide open spaces, or just want grand plants with tremendous impact, try one (or more!) of the following:

1. Joe Pye Weed (Eupatorium): Loves full sun and average soil. Very easy to grow once it's established. It can not only reach heights of 6-8 feet, but feathery blooms of dusty pink can be more than a foot around

2. Smooth hydrangea (Annabelle--Hydrangea arborescens): This hydrangea can tolerate more sun than the traditional macrophylla (blue- and pink-blooming) variety. The oversized white blossoms bloom profusely and larger than life. Each "snowball" can reach an average of 6-12 inches

3. Peony (P. lactiflora): These plants reach heights of 2-4 feet with flowers that average 8-12 inches in diameter. Truly a giant among flowering plants

Oooo, that smell!

A few weeks ago I discussed the sometimes-stinky nature of, well, nature. Nothing illustrates that point quite like the flower I'm exploring today: the Corpse flower (Amorphophallus titanum). Three guesses as to what this unique specimen smells like. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before I explain the special eau de parfum of this particular plant, I feel compelled to point out the unique attributes that attract people from far and wide, just to catch a glimpse (and an unfortunate whiff) of it.

Size: As the name Amorphophallus titanium suggests, this native of Sumatra (an island in Indonesia) is a titan, with a flower spike deemed the largest in the plant kingdom. In fact, the enormous tower of flower power boasts rings of both male and female flowers, produced along the base of the central spike (AKA the spadix), which is surrounded by a frilly spathe (the sheathing bract enclosing the flower cluster). This spike reaches anywhere from 6-12 feet in height!

Color: The blossom's rich, crimson hue dazzles the eye--especially when combined with its gargantuan size. It transforms the mind-bending florals of Disney's Fantasia into real-life plants.

Growing habit: Like all things in life, waiting is the hardest--but most rewarding--part of this plant's process. It takes literally years for the flower buds to form (on average 7- 10 years), but when they do, look out--and look quick. In a matter of days, the enormous spike grows, 4-6 inches a day. Once it reaches its glorious bloom, take it all in as fast as you can, because it will shrivel and die within 36 hours. The specimen pictured above lives at The New York Botanical Garden in Bronx, NY. It was gifted to the famous garden in 2007, and is just now blooming.

Odor: Okay, there's no getting around it, this plant smells like rotting meat. The stench is vital to attracting pollinators that feed on dead animals. Lovely, huh? One kind viewer described the flower's unique odor as follows: "You know when you lose your child's sippy cup of milk in the car and it takes a few weeks to resurface? Once you find it, it goes right into the trash because there's no getting rid of that stench. That's the most accurate description I can come up with."

Thanks for that...I think.

Nature's remedies for bee stings

The other day my husband unwittingly stepped on a hornet's nest and was stung on the leg twice. I'm always concerned when he has a run-in with the little buggers because he was stung 13 times a number of years ago. As most of us know, prior bee stings can predispose us to serious reactions to future bites and stings. The most serious--potentially life-threatening--issue is anaphylaxis: an allergic reaction in which airways narrow, blocking normal breathing. This occurs within seconds or minutes of a sting, so if hours have passed since the occurrence, immediate breathing dangers aren't a concern. But other issues may arise. Pain and inflammation being the most common.

Fortunately, nature has figured out ways to counteract the discomfort of stings--good information to have when you're out on the trail and not near a drugstore. The most important thing to do after a sting is to ensure that the stinger is out. If not, you're getting a constant stream of bee venom injected into your body. If you aren't near your bathroom sink, find a nearby stream and plunge the affected area into the water. Next, take a knife and scrape skin surface around the sting to make absolute sure that you've removed the stinger.

If you have ice with you, place it over the inflamed skin to reduce swelling and pain. A baking-soda-and-water paste works well as a poultice to draw out the venom. If you don't have access to either of these items, nature has provided for you:

HONEY: this effective remedy is ironic. Funny how nature uses the bees' own product to counteract bee stings.

PEANUT BUTTER: Works much like honey and baking soda to soothe skin and draw out venom.

CALENDULA, BEE BALM, LAVENDER, BASIL, PARSLEY: All these plants have natural analgesic properties. Simply pick a handful of leaves and either chew them up or crush them between thumb and pointer to access the moistness inside the leaves. Rub the leaves against the affected area. If you happen to have lavender essential oil, a drop of that works wonders.

GARLIC, ONION: Crush or chop up either of these and gently apply to skin at and around the bee sting.

Whatever you choose, it's reassuring to know nature provides an abundance of bee-sting remedies

Sometimes nature stinks

Taking a stroll through the yard can be so rewarding. Little in this life satisfies like seeing flowers in full bloom against a backdrop of lush green foliage, feeling the warm soil and soft grass beneath bare feet, tasting a ripe tomato from the vine, or hearing the cheerful chirping of half a dozen birds at once. And don't forget those "summer" scents: fresh-mown lawns, abundant blossoms dispersing fragrance into the wind, and the smell of...what is that? As my nose wrinkles and my gag reflex kicks in, I realize I've encountered an offending odor unique to the warm-weather season. Spurred on by the presence of harmful pathogens, excess moisture and lack of oxygen, things that would stink any time of year become particularly odiferous in the heat.

Standing water is guaranteed to stink. Water in ponds and wells needs periodic shots of oxygen into the mix to keep water from becoming rancid. Incorporate fountains into your yard's landscaped water features, and let water from wells run for a little while to flush out iron bacteria and sulfur bacteria, which thrive in moist conditions. I know this seems wasteful, but the alternatives are either add bleach to the water (which is NOT an ecofriendly solution) or live with the stench (it's harmless to everything except the nostrils). Other smelly culprits: compost and manure piles which, if not properly tended to, can turn funky fast. Below is the proper way to process manure and other organic materials so they turn into beneficial compost and not just a fetid mess:

1. Spread manure or compost pile flat to allow it to dry out. The materials in the compost pile should be slightly damp, but not so moist that you could squeeze excess moisture from a random handful of the stuff.

2. For compost piles, mix  a third of the brown, carbon-rich, organic materials with the manure.  Straw, dried leaves, dried grass clippings, and sphagnum peat moss are among the many carbon materials you can add to the manure. Sphagnum peat works especially well because it draws out excessive moisture from the manure. Carbon materials mixed with the nitrogen-rich manure causes the pile to heat up and kill the odor-causing bacteria in the manure. Without providing the proper balance of carbon and nitrogen materials, the pile can heat up too much and kill the beneficial microorganisms that decompose the materials.

3. Drill 1-inch diameter holes spaced 4 inches apart along two 2-inch diameter PVC pipes. The pipes should be about 1-1/2 feet taller than the manure pile height. Hold the pipes upright about a foot apart near the center of where you will build up the pile.

4. Work the composting manure back into a mound or pile after the wet manure dries out. Have one person hold the PVC vent pipes in place while you mound the manure around the pipes. You cannot simply push the pipes through the mounded manure because the pipes would fill with manure rather than allow air to circulate. The manure that was on the inside of the pile should be on the outside of the pile; work the manure from the outside of the pile to the inside so the pile breaks down evenly.

5. Remove the pipe vents and turn the manure pile about once every two weeks. Mist the pile with a spritz of water to dampen, if needed. Replace the pipes and build the mound back around the pipes .Add more carbon materials to the pile when odor becomes a problem. If you add new manure to the pile, you must add carbon organic matter at a rate of one part carbon materials to three parts manure.


Pets can often be to blame for bad odors. If your kitty or pup has decided to use the corner of your patio as a favorite pee-pee spot, a homemade cleaning cocktail can whisk the odor away. Simply mix three parts vinegar with one part baking soda and one part dish detergent in a plastic bottle. Shake well to mix all the ingredients and spray all around the offending area. This will not only neutralize odor, but discourage pets from going back to that spot.

By far and away, the most rancid of smells is caused by dead wildlife. If the decaying animal is small, it's best to simply scoop up the carcass and bury it. Last weekend we discovered a very large deer carcass about 100 yards behind our garage up at our summer place. The smell was so bad that people were coming from a quarter-mile away to investigate the stench. The deer was far too large to bury so we bought bags of lime in bulk and the most intrepid neighbors in the area (my daughter and I being among them) took turns dumping bags of lime dust onto the poor dead thing. Why lime? It's derived from porous limestone, which has natural absorbing properties. Also good: activated carbon (AKA activated charcoal), which is used by organic farmers as a natural air purifier as well as an odor and moisture absorber.

Without foul odors forcing you indoors, you'll be able to enjoy the sweet smell of successful outdoor spaces every time you venture through your yard!

Room with a view

As the summer days get steamier, it's harder to be out in the yard, but that doesn't mean an end to the enjoyment and appreciation of your flower gardens. Careful planning and placement ensure visual access to your garden's beauty from any room in the house. As an example, I've taken a photo of the flowerbeds just outside my downstairs bathroom window (shown above). We don't spend much time in that room, but the lovely view from that window enhances every second I'm in that spot.

We all understand the idea of "curb appeal," and most houses have an abundance of plantings in front of their homes. I'm not discounting the importance of this, but when plotting your outdoor spaces, it's vital to pay attention to the places that may be easily overlooked. Remember, friends and strangers alike pass your house and notice the presentation your place makes, but YOU live there. You see the good, and must suffer through the bad and the ugly.

My friend perked up a bare area in her side yard with a climbing clematis (below), and turned a forgettable area into a charming corner that draws the eye, and sparks the imagination. Clematis are a good choice for large expanses of fencing because they break up the monotony and counter enveloping walls with softly curving swirls of nature. Available in a variety of bloom shades and easy to grow (like the Jackmanii, shown here), clematis offers a tempting sight from the nearby kitchen window.

What I like best about this plant: It was first established in 1858, so it's got a track record; it grows in zones 4-11, so nearly all of us can enjoy it's velvety purple leaves and deep green foliage; it blooms from July to August when there is often a lull of flowering plants in the garden; it thrives in full sun or part shade; and it behaves itself, spreading out no more than 10-13 feet, so you won't be hacking it away from the fence post and cursing it for taking over the area.

Other easy growers that offer long-lasting blossoms during the dog days of summer: Daylilies, hydrangeas (with buds just peaking now, to bridge the gap between spring and fall bloomers), rudbeckia and coneflower (many cultivars of these plants now available), aster (in white, purple or pink--will bloom reliably through fall if you deadhead), sunny yellow coreopsis, gaura (boasts "butterfly buds" in pink or white atop tall spikes), yarrow (I like bright yellow "moonshine" best, but available in a range of hues) paired with the perennial purple of catmint (clip the spikes after first bloom and they will blossom again).

Try one or all of the plants I've listed, and place them so that you can offer a room with a view from every window in your house.

How to tackle a dying tree

It's an inevitable fact: amid life, there is death. When beloved shrubs or perennials in our gardens die, we yank them out--with either frustration or regret--and carry on. When a tree dies, we ponder, we sigh, we stamp our feet like five-year-olds in a petty fit of rage. How on earth are we going to get rid of a tree without great expense (to both our wallets and our emotions)?

I don't suggest cutting corners when it comes to tree removal. Do-it-yourselfers and inexpensive mom-and-pop outfits can be costly in the long run. I mean, really, do you want to lose a limb cutting down limbs? Do you want to risk a serious injury from a fall or a lawsuit from the guy down the street who said he could take your tree down? If a tree's days are numbered, call a fully insured tree removal service to cut it down and cart it away. You can usually get a better price if you let them keep the firewood.

Fortunately trees will usually give you clues regarding their demise--often years in advance. The first clue is a reduction in leafing in all or part of the tree. If you are noticing this, check the tree's bark. Dying trees' bark will be brittle and fall off more easily than the ones in good health. Also be on the lookout for falling limbs and a brittle, or even spongy trunk. These are all signs that insects, fungus, or even old age has set in.

When it comes to aging, trees are like dogs (in reverse). The smaller the tree, the shorter the lifespan. Ornamentals, which reach 20-35 feet high, generally last 15-20 years; maples live 75-100 years, and oaks and pine trees can last two to three centuries! If you suspect your tree is dying, call an arborist or tree doctor for a professional diagnosis. Their services aren't cheap, but if they can save the tree, they'll save you the expense of removing it. And you won't get teary-eyed when you watch a crew cut down the beautiful old mulberry that your kids' tire swing hung from (like I did, sob).

If you've done your due diligence and determined that the tree is indeed a goner, there may be a way to hang onto a part of it for a while longer. Check your local art community (or even sites like Craigslist) for craftsmen who can carve something unique and beautiful into the trunk, like my friend did. As shown, above, she contracted the services of a chainsaw artist who expertly carved a bald eagle atop her dying oak. Now she has a handsome reminder of her cherished tree as well as our nation's symbol of freedom and bravery keeping a protective eye on her garden.

Focusing on sightlines

I've touched on the idea of sightlines in past posts, but this element of landscape design is so important that I'm revisiting the topic. So what are sightlines? As the word sight suggests, it's all about what you see when you sit in your outdoor spaces.

Wikipedia defines sightlines as follows: "A visual axis...a normally unobstructed line of sight between an intended observer and a stage, arena or monument. Sightlines are a particularly important consideration in...road junction layout and urban planning. In cities such as London, construction within sightlines is restricted to protect the key views of famous landmarks."

This last part is key because poor planning can lead to obstruction of plantings and other attractive outdoor features in your garden. That's why it's vital to know how tall and wide particular plants will grow; whether your cultivars and varieties will behave themselves or spread wildly, blocking paths, arbors and views; and where to place hard-scaping features--such as planters, benches, sheds and fountains--so they enhance rather than detract from your painstakingly planned landscape.

The photo, above, illustrates how thinking about sightlines and planning carefully can yield an effect that's easy on the eyes. A screened porch, right, has an iris-lined walkway which leads around a perennial bed onto a stone patio. Placed just beyond the patio--and cleverly framed by an arbor--is a little greenhouse which echoes the shape and color of the main house. The effect is a balance of lush greenery and hard-scaped features.

In my opinion, no one historically understands sightlines like those in Asian cultures. More than 3,000 years ago, the Chinese developed lattice patterns on their windows to "frame" nature. The idea was to capture individual aspects of it in their indoor and outdoor areas, via clever wooden lattice panels that strictly prohibited views when a person stood in one spot. In order to switch up the scene, the observer had to take a step in a different direction--forcing a slightly altered view.

In this subtle way, perceptions are changed; nature is looked upon uniquely, depending on where you stand. It's a wonderful study in nuance amid the natural world, and a great way to learn about the importance of focusing on small, often-overlooked areas of the garden that add intrinsic value.

Check out sites exploring Asian landscaping. I like: www.diynetwork.com/how-to/topics/asian  The information provided will spur you to look at your own yard a little differently.

Don't dredge your pond of algae!

One of the reasons I started this blog a few years back was to educate myself, as well as share my gleaned knowledge with others. Like so many gardening enthusiasts, I came into this game with a bevy of preconceived notions. Among my most notoriously bad ones: colored mulch enhances new garden plantings (it doesn't--it simply adds an ugly, fake-looking layer around otherwise lovely plants); grass must look like a perfect green carpet (only if you like the idea of your kids and pets running barefoot in ankle-deep chemicals); and a pond looks awful when there's algae in it. I'm not gonna lie, I still struggle with this last one.

Just like it took me a while to appreciate the clover in my lawn (seeing all the bees buzzing in the delicate white flowers was what finally convinced me), I have to "train" myself to look into my pond proudly producing green algae blooms and not see red. Here's why it's good for your pond to go green:

1. Algae produces oxygen in the water, which keeps the pond from becoming smelly with harmful bacteria. In fact, like other plants, it absorbs the harmful C02 we expel and releases oxygen.

2. The filamentous version (green string algae) feeds fish and tadpoles, and provides a home for beneficial bacteria.

3. It tastes great. Just ask my dog, who tries to eat it every chance she gets!

Of course too much of a good thing can be problematic. Excessive algae on the pond's surface can block sunlight, counteracting all the good I've just mentioned. A balanced pond--like most things in life--requires moderation. Carefully removing a portion of pond algae is the best solution for good pond health and appearance.

There's a right way to do this and a wrong way. The wrong way is the easiest: dumping chemicals into the water. This, of course, can drastically improve the clarity of the pond, but at the cost of wildlife who inhabit and drink from it. It's also detrimental to the expensive plantings that have been cultivated in and around the water's edge. A far better, less expensive approach is to "old school" it: Purchase a $10 skimmer from a pool store, and manually scoop out the algae. Since it's floating, it's super easy to snatch up, and dump into a bucket. Just be careful to check the skimmer's netting to ensure you haven't snagged a tadpole or tiny fish.

Take ten or fifteen minutes each day to maintain the pond, and you'll have a beautiful landscape feature that you'll be able to enjoy for years to come. I hit up mine each morning with a cup of coffee in one hand, and the skimmer in the other. The frogs have gotten so used to the routine that they don't even bother to hide in the rocks as I'm cleaning their pad (corny, I know, but I couldn't resist the pun). The little critters pay me for my services in dead bugs--the ones they eat before the insects gets a chance to feast on me. If that isn't friendship, I don't know what is. I mean, really, would you swallow flies and mosquitos for your bestie?