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Hi folks!

I've gone full time into freelance writing, speaking, and teaching about horticulture, bugs, and plants. Find my new online home here:

www.fearlessgardening.net

 

Stubborn Snowdrops

See those tiny green tips poking out of the leaf litter and frost? Yes, those stubborn little buggers. My snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis) were up in December this year. We had a stretch of mid to upper 40s and a couple of days flirting with 50 and zoop! 

I am a passionate snowdrop lover. I've planted them all over the yard, but they, in their infinite plant wisdom, have reseeded to the above patch and a couple of others. It seems a bit of extra moisture is their happy place, so why my most robust group is under the katsura, is a mystery. 

They will hang out and be fine through the temperature fluctuations of late winter and will bloom once the soil warms a bit more. Snowdrops are the first things to grow in my garden and can be an early nectar source for any bee foolhardy enough to stumble out on a fine March day. 

Snowdrops are native to Europe and were introduced to Great Britain by the Romans. We have a long love affair with this tenacious, yet delicate flower. You'll find it lauded in art and poetry down through the centuries. One new use science has found for snowdrops is as a memory improvement supplement for Alzheimer's. The alkaloid galantamine found in snowdrops turns out has human benefits.

Plant them in autumn and make sure to check on the spot if temperatures rise above freezing. Let them go to seed and see what happens. Snowdrops are not bothered by bunnies or other rodents. I seek them out to sooth my soul when winter seems to never end. Their tough beauty always brightens my day.

Don't Leave Me! Marvelous Marcescence

Marcescent: (of a leaf or frond) withering but remaining attached to the stem. Origin: Early 18th century from Latin marcescent- ‘beginning to wither’, from marcere ‘wither’.

The oak and beech cling to their leaves.

I love how the term 'marcesence' is onomatopoeic of what it is. As we descend into darkest December, the leaves of some of my favorite trees are stubbornly refusing to fall. Instead their susurration adds a crisp percussion to our windy days. I am also treated to a richness of russet in the winter garden before snow spreads its quiet white blanket and covers my tragedies and triumphs.

I find marcesence to be not only a wonderful word to roll off the tongue, but a gracious selling point for a plant. In the Midwest, our evergreens are mostly coniferous, along with the inevitable boxwood and occasional rhododendron and holly. Of course, not all evergreens are green, but it's the dominant shade in the neighborhood. Dried leaves give texture and richness to the evolving landscape. Plus, the shingle oak teases my neighbor endlessly by dropping a handful of leaves every day until March. I swear it's laughing at us in a rustling chuckle.

This year, we had a deep cold snap in the beginning of November and temperatures dropped into single digits rather abruptly. Many trees and shrubs were caught with their pants, er, their leaves on and they still stubbornly cling. The linden down the block normally lets its elegant pyramidal architecture show. Not this year. That lady is keeping her coat on as long as possible.

As you explore your landscape, what woody plants are bare-shouldered and which are still fully clothed?

A Pretty Pest: Oriental Bittersweet

 Adding brightness to the winter landscape, but at what cost?

Well, instead of a long, slow, spiral into the deep dark of winter, this year we have been treated to an autumn missed if you blinked. Hello snow! Hello single digits! We'll be flirting with 50s again soon.

Oriental bittersweet just hanging out in my local forest preserve.

One of the plants that dances onto center stage in the fall is bittersweet. It was a favorite of pioneer ladies looking for something bright to twine up the porch posts in the fall. From there it escaped and has joyfully scrambled through our natural areas and had its seeds dispersed by hungry birds. I'm looking at you, oriental bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus). It unfortunately tends to beat out our native American bittersweet (Celastrus scandens) which is also very attractive, if not as aggressive.

The big difference? Oriental bittersweet holds its berries along the stems and has red berries surrounded by bright yellow capsules. American bittersweet holds its berries in clusters at the tips of the twigs and the red berries have orange capsules.

Celastrus scandens on the left and Celastrus orbiculatus on the right. 

Image courtesy of Bonnie K., Qwert1234 and the University of Illinois Extension.

I can see the charm. Who wouldn't love bright orange berries on a tough, vigorous vine? Until you try and fight through a thicket of it in the middle of the woods on a hike. Ugh. If you're still thinking about decorating for fall, you can find fake sprays and wreaths readily available. They are just as lovely, but eliminate the chance of spreading this invasive thug into your landscape.

Autumnal Explosion of Asteraceae

Fading milkweed weaves in between the lavender of Drummond aster, the white of calico aster, and the yellow froth of Canada goldenrod.

Autumn is for flowers. In September, the garden explodes into frothy clouds of aster and goldenrod delighting swarms of bees, butterflies, and bugs. It's a bouncing sea of white, purple, and yellow and if you stop a moment, the place is literally humming. I'm afraid I let the boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) go because, well, bees. It's hard for me to deprive the little bugs, flies, and bees that love the tiny nectar-rich flowers.

It's also time to play Spot the Goldfinch as they stalk the developing seedheads of coneflower and Rudbeckia that are adding big showy grace notes to the otherwise deceptively delicate sprays of aster. They are very chatty, especially early in the morning, and I imagine they are getting caught up on the gossip.

We are down to the next couple of F.O.S.Rs in training (Fat Old Smart Rabbit) as the owls, hawks, foxes, and occasional coyote have picked off the young and dumb ones. Good eating, guys! A pair of feral cats (since moved on) did a number on the chipmunks, but they seem to be bouncing back a bit. Sigh. Oh, well, more fox food for winter.

The days are getting shorter and the trees are considering fall color. They aren't ready to give in, though, and plentiful September rains have likely pushed them back to October and November. So in the meantime, I'll pet the bumble bees in the asters, plant the odds and ends, and ponder what bulbs to tuck in here and there.

It's All About the Koi: Pond Walk 2019

Seriously huge koi with a stunner of a Japanese maple.

This marks the third year in a row I have been able to attend the Midwest Pond & Koi Society's annual Garden & Pond Tour. It's a great time and I highly recommend it! The last two weekends of July are devoted to members opening up their gardens and ponds across the Chicago area. If you're looking for ideas, like koi, or just want to mine the collective expertise of the pond folk, go!

Cute, fun, and some very happy fish

I don't have time for a pond. I'd love one, but they are a lot of maintenance and I already have a weed problem that I can't control. So, I visit other people's ponds and oooh and ahhhh over them. Every year, I swear the koi are even huger. It also is a good way to hang out with folks that love gardens and who graciously welcom random strangers to gush over their ponds. I love to explore and this tour has taken me to some pretty unique corners of Chicagoland.

This one is literally around the corner from my house and is a beautiful private garden retreat.

If you want to know anything about ponds, these people are your experts. I can't tell you how often to filter water, pH balancing, algae control, or the difference between a koi and a shubunkin, but they can. And they don't mind if you hang out and chill with the music of their waterfalls.

The Cruelty of Climate Change

The Main Gate with lantern and maple in 2015.

Anderson Japanese Gardens in Rockford, IL is one my favorite places. I try to get there once a year and revel in the calm, controlled delight that is Japanese gardening. If you haven't been, add it to your garden list!

This year I have been privileged to work with their Garden Curator & Head of Horticulture on some Japanese maple articles and research. Anderson has a fine collection of Japanese maple trees, some more than 30 years old. It is still a fine collection, although they have been hit hard by the 2018-2019 winter as it reached -31 in Rockford. It was a true test of the resiliency of plants when it comes to extreme weather caused by climate change. Some cultivars weathered the storms and some didn't. Oddly enough, the burning bushes took a big hit.

The Main Gate with lantern and maple in 2019.

As you can see, this little tree has been lovingly pruned and shaped for many years and has been a key focal point of the gate gardens. Anderson is having to reevaluate their collections and decide what to keep, what to remove, and what to move. None of those will be easy decisions. Extreme weather, be it winter cold, stormy springs, or dry summers will be putting plants to the test for the next decades. In many ways, it can be heartbreaking.

We love our gardens, both private and public. As you work in the yard this spring, I'm sure you're finding plants that didn't make it. I lost some things and some, like my spicebush, died to the snow line, but are slowly coming back. I think we're going to have to be more pragmatic as gardeners and learn to live with losses. I think it serves us well to get to know our little plot of land deeply. Where are your microclimates? Where does winter wind go? I have three Japanese maples and I'll likely add more, but they are going in the most protected corners of my landscape. Where does water linger or which parts dry out fastest? My rain garden has been a treasure-trove of plant and animal diversity. As I write this, a mama monarch is laying eggs on my milkweed. If we can be smarter gardeners and plant for the planet, perhaps we'll have less heartbreak.