Sunday, 10 March 2013

Old gardeners' tales

Old gardeners' tales are rampant, even these days.

Companion planting advice as shown in this graphic is freely passed along as gospel of the garden. But most of the companion planting pairings (compatible or incompatible) have not been verified with scientific methods.  Nevertheless, books have been written about plants with human emotions such as "love" or "hate" used in their titles.
  
Don't fall for these old gardeners' tales.

In my research for "Organic Methods for Vegetable Gardening in Florida," I found that the more important thing to keep in mind is the botanical family of the plants so your crop rotation from one season to the next includes different crop families for at least two rounds. This keeps the specific pests guessing and allows the soils to be replenished.

One of my go to resources for garden myths is Linda Chalker-Scott's website, The Informed Gardener. She's an urban extension agent in Washington State and she has access to the professional journals where she researches various gardening traditions to find if the science proves them to be true or not. She's also published two books listing some of the most common myths.


I planted a row of tall sunflowers away from other gardens.
I planted two seeds in each pile of compost.

Sunflowers are one of the exceptions


Sunflowers (Helianthus spp) are one type of plant that kills or stunts its neighbors. So when you grow them, it's best to plant them away from other plants and dispose of the dead plants at the end of the season so that you can take advantage of their built in herbicide such as using them for a path mulch.

While the danger of frost here in north Florida is not over, it's becoming less and less likely. So I planted two types of sunflowers this week. I'd been piling leaves and other dead stuff raked from the lawn before our first mowing in a line along the back edge of the raised septic drain field. The soil is extremely sandy up there, of course, so I needed the pile of dead stuff to hold the moisture. Then I nestled shovelfuls of compost along the row of leaves. Finally, I planted two seeds in each pile of compost.  These are tall sunflowers with supposedly easy-to-harvest sunflower seeds to eat. The directions stated eight inches apart. I think my planting falls into that range. After the seeds were planted, I covered them with a pine needle mulch.

I also planted some shorter, multi-headed sunflowers at the back of the herb garden for a change. I'll plant basil somewhere else. I'll let you know how they do.  Meanwhile, read my article from a few years back for more information on sunflowers and how this American native became Russia's national flower. Sensational Sunflowers.
Sunrise the other morning from our front yard highlighted a buttermilk sky.
I wish you beautiful sunrises and now that it's daylight savings time, maybe you'll see a few more.

Green Gardening Matters, 
Ginny Stibolt

Saturday, 9 March 2013

Natural landscaping, natural diversity, and wild plants

I love visiting natural places full of plant treasures - they're increasingly rare, but the protected ones are totally special.

On the way to a Natural Landscaping symposium sponsored by the Wild Ones chapter in Chattanooga, Tennessee (a delightful event), we (that is, my sometime gardening companion and me) were able to visit one of these places for the first time.

lower Pocket area along boardwalk
The Pocket is a rich cove forest site (near LaFayette, GA) with an abundance of spring wildflowers.

a rich diversity of wildflowers


Toothwort (Cardamine concatenata)
We were delighted to see emergent vegetation of Virginia bluebells, Trillium, and trout lilies, along with toothwort (Cardamine concatenata), Claytonia virginica (spring beauty), Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot), and Erigenia bulbosa (harbinger of spring).

I'd never seen Erigenia before.  Amazing!  Incredibly small flowers lighting up the forest floor. 
Erigenia bulbosa (Harbinger of spring)
Harbinger of spring is an extremely small member of the parsley family (Apiaceae).  You'd hardly notice it, walking by, but it was great fun and such a treat to finally see.

The symposium was wonderful -- a treat to participate and attend with over 150 native plant enthusiasts. It's so nice to be able to experience the interest and enthusiasm, and share my own passion for native plants, too!

Thursday, 7 March 2013

Creativity and gardening

Gardening is a creative activity, in my experience.

I've loved putting plants together in containers in agreeable ways, mixing up vegetables and herbs in attractive combinations, and helping my gardening companion recreate natural plant combinations while restoring landscapes, etc.

Finalizing a weekend program (on Gardening and Creativity) for the John C. Campbell Folk School (for next April, 2014) had me thinking again about the gifts of gardening.

I'd mused on this subject last December as I was thinking about doing programs (and re-reading Fran Sorin's lovely book, Digging Deep: Unearthing Your Creative Roots Through Gardening.)

And my thinking about this was reinforced earlier this week at the Davidson Horticultural Symposium, where Noel Kingsbury talked about a German garden designer whose muse was music and gardens, and Julie Moir Messervy recounted (at the end of a presentation about contemplative gardening) the experience of designing the Toronto Music Garden. 

I found a visit to the Toronto Music Garden amazing -- it was totally inspirational for me (in the context of visiting a garden with a meaningful experience) to listen to the audio tour through the garden in mid-summer some years ago).

Do you hear music in gardens? 

Monday, 4 March 2013

Is native gardening a fairy tale?

Grassleaf Barbara’s Buttons (Marshallia graminifolia)
are beautiful Florida natives suitable for any fairy tale garden…

Once upon a time, a gardener decided that she wanted more butterflies and more birds in her yard. She read books and oodles of online material and then she attended classes, conferences, workshops, and garden fests. After all this education, she found that she really could make a big difference by installing native plants that attract butterflies and birds with their berries and delicious leaves that caterpillars would eat. As a bonus her landscape would be easy to care for since native plants have lived in the wild for eons with no care at all.

After a great quest* far and wide across her realm, she found a local native plant nursery that had the native plants she wanted. She paid the small bounty for the plants and brought them home and everyone (and every bird and butterfly) lived happily ever after. 

NOT! 
Continue reading to find out what happens next...

The other day, my husband cut the lawn for the first time since early November.
I was sorry to see the toadflax (Linaria canadensis) go, but that's what happens in a freedom lawn--whatever is growing gets mown. I did rescue some St. John's wort seedlings, though.  More on that later.
I hope you've allowed your lawn to host natives along with the turf--it's so much more sustainable.

Green Gardening Matters,
Ginny Stibolt


Saturday, 2 March 2013

The first rain lily of spring

Three days before this lovely rain lily (Zephyranthes atamasca) emerged, we received 1.8" of rain. Hence the common name...

These lovely native plants are in the amaryllis family and mostly grow in damp ditches. We often see them along roadsides because that's where people and damp ditches most frequently come in close contact.

A couple of years ago, I initiated a rescue of some of these lilies along a roadside near my house. The road was slated to be widened and these lovelies would be buried. I applied to county for a permit, but it took so long to receive permission that by the time I could get a crew together for the rescue, with permit in hand, the ditch had been mowed and the lilies were no longer obvious. I had paced out the the location, so we had somewhere to start, but we were shooting in the dark.  We did find some bulbs and later we planted in local parks and wild lands.  You can read about it here: Rescuing Rain Lilies.

Here is a photo of the last spring for these roadside rain lilies before the construction began.
I use this as my screensaver graphic on my computer as a reminder of how important it is to be an activist.
The weather is cold again this weekend, so maybe our cool-weather veggies will make it to maturity so we can harvest them before the heat of summer sets in. I hope your gardens are growing well.

Green Gardening Matters,
Ginny Stibolt

Thursday, 28 February 2013

Cool vs. warm season vegetables and herbs

In an herb-gardening class this morning, I had a lovely participant that had recently moved to South Carolina from upstate NY. 

It was a great reminder (for me) of what a wonderfully benign climate that we have in the Carolinas for growing herbs and vegetables!

Our average last spring frost date ("historically" April 15) is really more like April 8 (or earlier) now.  And we've moved from Zone 7b to Zone 8, in the Piedmont of South Carolina.

In the mountains of Western North Carolina, where I spend time in the summer and on weekends, in the Asheville basin (where our small house is), we're now Zone 7 b, instead of Zone 6, and I'm sure the 'heat island effect' along with the stone raised beds that I have, bump that up!

Needless to say, even as we're moving into true spring, I'm harvesting the last overwintered arugula (it's starting to bolt) as I'm planting spring cool-season seeds, too, and thinking about transplants of warm-season vegetables to come.

Amending vegetable beds in the satellite garden (a couple of years ago)
A Master Gardener volunteer, who enjoyed the Hawaiian Pineapple tomatoes last year (that I did, too) asked via email today if we would have transplants for them at our spring sale.  Well, no, I replied, as we've rearranged how we grow transplants, but I then ordered seeds, and will share, for sure!

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

Mud

I'm grateful for the rain, truly.  It's refilled our upstate SC lakes, hydrated the soil in the mountains, but...

The path past the main vegetable garden (from the kitchen door) is becoming a compacted, muddy mess with all of the rain.

We fell into the habit of using the kitchen garden/mud room door while our sweet rescue Golden, Woody, was recovering from knee surgery last fall (the 'taking the dog out' excursion...) There's just a small step down through the door verge there.

But, now he's fine, and we're continuing to use that path.

Hmm, perhaps he needs to use the steps down from the bedroom door, or out the front door, as alternative "step" exercises!