The Trick of the Eye

There are ways to making the wildflower meadow seem more intensely flowerful than you even thought possible. To create a bit of a trompe l’oeil on the landscape, I like to reserve the edge conditions of a wild meadow for a rich and playful, intentional planting of plugs. Plugs are small plants, grown for transplanting into the wild meadow (or sometimes into pots for resale). With landscape plugs I can be intentional about some of the plantings, rather than leaving it up to the random order of nature. Here I used lots of red beebalm and yarrows in the foreground for a more brilliant effect. In other times of year there will be large swaths of Agastache, Lupine, or Asters in this space. Since these very plants are part of the mix, you can see them repeated as you look outwards into the larger meadow, but the intensity fades as you leave your eye’s range of focus. The intent here is to make it seem as if the meadow is like an endless garden. You can see the truth from this angle (see below). The young meadow in the background has beebalm, echinacea, and other perennial forbs in progress, but this is its second year of growth, and these plants haven’t matured enough to even flower.

The angle shifts and you can see where you have been tricked into thinking it was an endless meadow.

Want a crisp transition, consider using a simple fence to break up the wild from the cultivated.

THE LAWN IS MY BANQUET, THE BEES SHALL NOT WANT

Who is your lawn feeding? Anyone? Anything? If you are unsure, the best way to check is to go out there on a sunny day in May and just listen for life. Do you hear anything? Do you see anything? If so, great job! If not, listen up. There is so much potential in that space. You can create a multicultural paradise for insects and birds and everything in between. I know that to many folk local to my part of the world in rural Vermont, this is preaching to the choir. But for those of who still succumb to cultural pressures to mow and blow and add uncalculated amounts of nitrogen and phosphorous to your lawns in some unrelenting pursuit of the American dream, this one’s for you. You can do better by doing less. Those monocultural “chem lawns” are net producers of atmospheric CO2 and serve as food deserts for local ecosystems. What’s more, they are a bit passé. Beneficial landscapes are in vogue. More and more people are moving towards wildflower meadows and multi-use gardens. It’s not only ecologically conscientious, it’s aesthetically hip.

BRING BEES to the VEGGIES

I always recommend adding a layer of bee-attracting plantings to the outside perimeter of your vegetable garden. Not only does this give the utilitarian garden a beautiful screen, but it also attracts bees and other would-be pollinators to your site for best fruit and vegetable production. The added bonus is a cache of plants you can easily harvest for arrangements, outside of your other more precious perennial beds. I use my outer bed as a holding bed too, a place to store divisions that I then dig up again for the plant swaps and sales of the future. The above image shows the very beneficial and native Helopsis helianthoides (Ox eye daisy) alongside some mature asparagus, daylilies, and Nepeta ‘Six Hills Giant’ (catmint).

Salvia 'Purple Rain' and friends

I guess I like its wildness. Nothing like that stiff, upright ‘Caradonna’, the Salvia ‘Purple Rain’ spreads out like a spider, its blossoms a bit erratic and interesting. I like it here against the bright orange of Hemerocallis ‘Stella d’Oro’ which isn’t as common up here in the North Country as it is down in New Jersey. You can get away with it without being to twee. The same is true with the seldom used Liriope or spreading Junipers. There are far too few McDonalds in which to overuse these plants, and so they have kept their dignity. I guess I was talking about the Salvia but I digress…

What I like about this pic is that Delphinium that is just about to pop and no one seems to notice. Well I noticed, and didn’t bother staking since the nearby Baptisia and Leucanthemum masses keep it in its place. (Well actually that Baptisia seems to be overtaking the Delphinium. I better check that in the spring). Lastly, and rounding out the quartette of color, is the fantastic, scarlet Knautia macedonica which blooms from June until frost of you have the patience to keep it deadheaded. I just read that a common name is Macedonican Scabius, which I like because it reminds me of a taller, more brilliantly colored Scabiosa. Lastly, I am quite annoyed by that tall Allium ‘Bulgaricum’ in the foreground of this picture, but I keep losing it after the bloom and then by spring I don’t want to miss it and allow it to stay for another year. A known self-seeder, I am quite certain it put itself there but the bloom IS very nice and I will show it in an different post if I can find the picture. Until then…

Achillea and Salvia

With winter upon us, perhaps it is finally time to take stock of the summer and review some favorite scenes of gardens past. I recently came across this picture of a lovely pink Achillea ‘Cerise Queen’ (yarrow) in combination with Salvia ‘Caradonna’ (Sage). Probably taken in early summer, this scene is from a Vermont garden where water is ample and the sun is not too hot. Interesting since both of these plants thrive in hot and dry conditions. I have had this pink yarrow take off on me a bit, reseeding here and there. Below is a more contrasting mix, with the vibrant Achillea ‘Pomegranite’ and Salvia ‘Blue Hill’. I’d almost be interested in seeing the two combinations here reversed. Maybe next year.

Yet another combinations includes the Salvia ‘Caradonna’ and Achillea ‘Moonshine’ a bright combination tamed by Nepeta ‘Six Hills Giant’. I have also used this Salvia with Achillea ‘Coronation Gold,’ a taller and “golder” culitvar. One thing is for sure, the purple hues are good foils for that chromium yellow which I find otherwise hard to pair.

Sharing is Caring

Corny, I know, but on the eve of a possible frost my happy-go-lucky feeling of garden abundance has suddenly dwindled and I can now recognize the scarcity of the months that lay ahead. I was happy to be able to share some of my best tomatoes with my grandmother this year, delivered safely through a window of her apartment. She said of the Brandywine that it was the best tomato she had ever had. Of course, her tomatoes of late are nearly inedible things, imported from wherever and pink and mealy upon arrival. Can you imagine? If you have a tomato, even if it is the saved remnants of the first killing frost, consider the joy of gifting it to someone who would really appreciate it.

True Leaves

True Leaves

Fourteen days in (or so) and I spy, with my little eye some true leaves on the early seedlings. If you remember, the first leaves you see when the plant sprouts are actually the seed leaves or cotyledon. The true leaves emerge from between the cotyledon (in the case of dicots) and resemble the leaf of the mature plant. They are capable of photosynthesis (the process by which plants use the energy of the sun and turn it into usable food.) The cotyledon will eventually fall off when the true leaf matures.

In my case, the first seeds to produce true leaves are the lettuces and cosmos. I can see a true leaf bud starting on the cabbages as well. Once these leaves start to take off, it can be a good time to add some dilute fertilizer. The best type to use is an all-purpose, organic, water soluble fertilizer. There are a lot out there, but if you need to make your own, check out this link from Mother Earth News. It includes ratios for making your own fertilizer using chicken manure, seaweed, fresh grass clippings, or even urine!

This can also be a time to transplant the seedlings into a six pack size pot if you started in a seeding tray. Remember the roots are very delicate at this stage. Use a widger or a similar tool to gently ease the little seedlings out then transplant just as gently into a larger pot. Here is a helpful video by Mother Earth News again.

Direct Sow - Part One

Direct Sow

So I am taking a chance and sowing some of the most cold hardy seeds directly into the garden on this day in late March, perhaps eight weeks from the official end of our usual frost period. Spinach normally likes to be planted at least 6 weeks before the end of frost, which puts that time around the second week of April. This year the ground is clear of snow on March 26th so I am giving it a go to try and get some greens. Spinach is so finicky in my garden, tending to bolt (send up a flower stalk) as soon as the hot weather starts. It is truly a cold weather crop.

I will plant successive seedings, every two weeks. So if for any reason this one fails, I will have a back up plan. It’s not recommended to plant spinach inside.

As for the actual process, I first clean and rake one of my garden bed and sometimes having added a fresh layer of compost in the fall. I then tie a string between two stakes and stake them on either end of the garden, to create a clean visible guide line. This helps me identify the seedlings versus weed seedlings in the early stages of development. I then plant the spinach seeds 1/2” deep, about 12 per foot.

I will update you on the progress as it happens. First we need a sunny day.

Forcing Forsythia

Forcing Forsythia

There is a woman I have known for most of my life named Cynthia. I first met her early in my childhood as my good friend’s mother. At one point she became friends with my own mother and eventually her first business partner (as the Compleat Gardener.) Years later Cynthia officiated my wedding and eventually consoled me at the event of the death of my own mother. Still the circle continues.

At some point in my youth, I became acquainted with the lovely blooming shrub, Forsythia. Of course, I confused the name of the plant, thinking instead that it was “Forcynthia.” After all, wasn’t it For Cynthia, a devoted plantswoman and one of my mother-figures, whose own birthday graced the same month of its bloom?

This misunderstanding lived with me long into adulthood, despite my own scholastic training and professional study in horticulture. When I was first corrected on my own pronunciation of the plant, I was initially obdurate, refusing to believe that I was wrong. After all, everyone had just gone along with it for so many years.

I feel, in a way, that I was forced to change the name of this plant in my own vernacular. Inwardly, I still think of it as Forcynthia. Afer all, I still think of Cynthia a bit when I think of the plant. I also think of my childhood. I think of rambling bushes that blazed a wild yellow in spring and the fort-worthy hollows that lay beneath. I think of Easter baskets and flowering dogwood and Lesser blooming Celandine. These are all just my personal connections, but I bet you have them too.

Well three days ago I went out and harvested some snow-covered Forsythia branches and decided to force them into “ForCynthia” sprigs.. VOILA! I now have yellow blossoms to brighten up my day and remind me of the glorious New Jersey spring (more on that later if you are a skeptic.) If you too have a budded Forsythia, I suggest cutting off some branches and bringing them into a vase in the warmth of your house. You will not be disappointed.

Planting Peas

Planting Peas

One of the easiest and most rewarding vegetable, cold hardy peas are planted early and are harvested early. I tend to prefer snap peas over shelling peas since you can easily eat them pod in all but there is no reason you cannot choose, plant both types.

Remember, the first step for seed growth is imbibation so to jump start this with your peas, you can soak them in water 12 hours before planting to fully engorge the seed with water. There is evidence that this will improve the speed of germination but may also increase the risk of some disease. This year I did not presoak my peas but lucky for me it did rain (and snow) for several days following planting, the perfect scenario to get those peas to imbibe. I recommend trying the soaking if it your first time planting to be able to see and understand how water is absorbed into the seed. You will start with a shriveled up little pea and wind up with something that resembles a fresh pea off the pod.

Back in the day of abundance, I used to plant my peas with powdered inoculant that I bought from a store. Inoculant is basically a collection of millions of rhizobia bacteria that otherwise live in the soil. These bacteria have a symbiotic relationship with legumes (of which peas are one.) The bacteria inhabit the legume roots and create nodules where they live. From here, the bacteria is able to use the plant to absorb atmospheric Nitrogen from the air and convert it into usable ammonia (the nutrient that contains Nitrogen and Oxygen that plants can use as a nutrient source). This process is called Nitrogen fixing.

This day I do not have any inoculant so I am hoping for the soil’s natural rhizobia to do their best. This is one of the reasons that I used compost in the base of my potted pea planting. It adds bulk to the bottom of the pot and is filled with natural microbia. I also add a top layer of potting soil or pasteurized soil to help suppress any lingering weed seeds. It should be noted that there can be greater risk of trasnferring plant pathogens in the soil this way but I plant my seeds directly into the soil in the compost amended garden soil anyway so the risk is the same both ways.

Peas require a climbing structure to twine around. In the garden, we plant the peas along our 7’ deer fence on the east end of the garden. We used to plant on the peas on the outside of the garden to ease the picking, but we finally realized that the chickens were waiting for the delectible sprouts and would sneak them out of the ground when we weren’t looking. Now we plant on the inside. When we plant in the raised bed or pot, we need to create a trellis of sorts. Ours is simply a bunch of branches from the woods, shaped into a teepee and tied at the top.

Plant the peas next to the climbing structure 1” down, 2” apart and firmly replace the soil. Remember, peas need darkness to germinate. The next thing to do is water and keep watered so that the soil is consistently moist. You may start seeing sprouts in 7 to 15 days depending on the soil temperature.

Seven Days In...

Seven Days In…

Pictures speak a thousand words. So without further ado, please observe the growth after seven days of germination.

Seed Sourcing

Seed Sourcing

Lucky for us, there are a lot of mail order catalogs out there. It can be daunting, however, to start from scratch, without a way to narrow down the selection. A few distinctions I use are the following:

1. Organic vs. Conventional

2. Local vs. Distant

3. Heirloom vs. Hybrid

Organic seeds are produced by a certified organic grower, using only organic (non-synthetic) methods of weed suppression and fertilizer, upon clean earth. Look for the USDA Organic label to be sure.

Conventional seeds are grown from plants using conventional pesticides and fertilizers. Some seeds are treated with fungicide before packaging. These seeds often show the tell-tale marks of an artificial-looking color.

Locally produced seeds come from seed farms local to you and your garden and therefore come from plants that are growing in conditions potentially closest to your own. This may also be a greener solution since fuel and transportation costs may be lower to deliver the product. Another consideration is simple support of a local economy.

Distantly produced seeds should still come from climactic conditions that most closely resemble yours.

Heirloom seeds must be foremost “open pollinated.” That means that the pollen is spread by wind or beast (beasts being mainly insects and birds). They, by nature, pass on most of their true characteristics through to the next seed, so are good for planting when seed-saving is a priority. Often passed down from generation to generation, these seeds tend to have history and time-tested qualities.

Hybrid seeds are often open pollinated by a controlled method to produce new plants with improved traits; disease resistance, fruit size and durability, color, taste, etc. Unfortunately, these plants will not produce seeds with the same qualities, so you will have to buy new seeds to get more plants next season.

I have a large collection of seeds from far and wide. It includes shared seeds that friends or associates have given me, seeds I have saved myself, those I have purchased on-line, and others that came from Agway.

Here is a list of seed sources I most often use:

High Mowing Seeds (organic, local from Wolcott, VT)

Botanical Interests (organic, Colorado based, has heirloom varieties)

Burpee (organic and conventional, Pennsylvania based, has heirloom and hybrid varieties)

Johnny’s Selected Seeds (has organic, relatively local from Maine, heirloom and hybrids)

Annies Heirloom Seeds (organic, Michigan, specializes in heirloom seeds)

I propose that we, as local communities, consider maintaining local seed banks, perhaps at the libraries? It would take a caretaker, that is for sure, but might be worth it in times of trouble. I think that right now people might be wishing that we had a community seed bank, right?

Want to start your own seed bank? Annies Heirloom Seeds offers a how-to for us all to follow.

Click here to start your own seed bank.

The First Sprouts

The First Sprouts

It has been barely three days since seeds hit the soil and already we are seeing some green. Today’s sunny warmth helped warm up the soil and the pots lucky enough to get the plastic covers enjoyed an atmosphere that was downright toasty. This warmth is necessary for germination and all seeds crave a particular temperature before they are willing to shed their skins and start to grow. They also require moisture, of course. When water starts to fill the seed, a process called “imbibition,“ it triggers enzymes to awaken the embryo and begin the process of growth. The moisture needs to be slightly damp but not soggy or saturated as the transfer of gases is also important, known as “respiration.” They also require a condition of lightness or darkness. Seeds like lettuce, for instance, germinate from the top of the soil and require light. Seeds likes beans like to be underground int he dark.

So basically we need the optimum moisture content, temperature, and light condition for our seeds to grow. We can create this perfect micro-climate in our windowsill with a little care and attention to detail. A south-facing window offers the best chance of good solar exposure and a spray bottle may be the optimum tool for delivering early moisture. I like to cover my seedlings with plastic lids to give them added greenhouse effect. This year, however, I am running a deficit on these little lids and plan to rotate them off of the sprouted plants and onto the dormant seeds as soon as the true leaves start to emerge. Some people turn to plastic wrap and other concoctions. I don’t have plastic wrap on hand so am going to have to utilize my rotation method and hope for the best.

Not to be too educative, but now’s a good time to review the stages of germination. The first part of the seed to emerge from the is called the “radicle;” the embryonic root of the plant that generally seeks the soil. After primary roots take hold, the seed leaves, or the “cotyledons,” come hooking out of the soil and eventually straighten upwards towards the sun. My little lettuce seedlings are dicots, which means that they have two cotyledons. in June, when my corn starts to emerge, each will only have one cotyledon, as all monocots do.

But right now, we are in the cotyledon stage of our little lettuces. Soon the primary leaves will begin to grow and the cotyledons eventually drop off. These foliage leaves are able to use photosynthesis to create food for the plant. After the plant has successfully grown to its full size, then it will be food for me. Somehow this seems barbaric when I phrase it that way!

Soils and Seeding

Soils and Seeding

As it turns out, it’s not rocket science. There are a few tips worth spreading, however, not that your pots are clean and ready for planting. For one, it helps to use sterile, finely sifted seed starting medium for the first days of your young plants’ lives. You don’t want to have to compete with weed seeds or force your little sprouts to find rooting surface around rocks, roots, or sticks. Fortunately for me, I still had a bag of starter mix lying around, but there are options if you do not. (See below.)

When you use potting soil, wear a dust mask or in times of shortage, a handkerchief over your nose and mouth. Dangerous bacteria and fungi can inhabit the soil and get into your lungs if you are not careful. Common potting soil additives like Perlite, (those white styrophoam-like dots), or Vermiculite (those brown, expandable flakes) are light and could be easily inhaled. Better to be safe than sorry. Also (does it really need reminding?) always wash your hands after handling soils.

For those of you that don’t have potting soil on hand, you might want to consider pasteurizing small batches of loam yourself. Simply collect loam (mix of sand,silt, and clay) from your garden or top layer of planted earth (0-4”). Be sure to choose ground that has not been treated with pesticides (e.g. Weed and Feed on lawns.) Hand sift the soil to remove any visible life forms (sorry micro-organisms) and bake in a preheated oven at 160 degrees (no hotter!) for 30 minutes. Sift using a wire mesh sieve (to remove rocks and debris).

Once the soil is ready, spread it gently into the containers. DO NOT COMPACT. The idea is for the little seedlings to have as little resistance as possible when they go to spread their roots. I like to moisten the soil before seeding, using a gentle sprinkling watering can, running water through a sieve, or gently using the spray nozzle on your sink. The objective it to moisten without pounding the soil into mush. Keep the air pockets in place.

Each seed has its own depth and required treatment. Some seeds, like lettuce, like to be pressed into the surface of the soil. Others, like pea seeds, like to soaked for 24 hours before planting. Most seeds want to be planted at a depth of two times the width of the diameter of the seed. A 1/4 “ seed, for instance, would like to be planted 1/2” deep.

Timing is another thing. Each seed has its own requirements for the sow time. Some are best when directly sowed into the ground at the right time. Others should be started indoors in our climate. This is why I started yesterday by sorting the seeds. Based on my projected planting time of 6-8 weeks from now, I will start my tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, celery, Brussels sprouts, some lettuce, some cabbage, basil, and a variety of flowers. Why flowers during this time of apocalypse? Well, for the joy of course.

I try to put like-sized plants in the same tray so that they all outgrow the warming hood at the same rate. Celery, for instance, can take 14-21 days to germinate in the soil It gets it own tray so that I don’t have to take the clear lid off prematurely. By the way, I plant a lot of celery because it is good in soups and lasts a long time in cold storage. Also, it tops the “Dirty Dozen',” a list of the food crops that maintain the highest pesticide residue. So I can’t bring myself to eat conventionally grown celery.

For more recommendations on precisely when to seed, check out this link.

Lastly, play some beautiful music to guide you through this process. I chose to take out the old turntable and play some tunes from my parents’ record collection. It does wonders for your mood.

The Cold Frame

The Cold Frame

I should start by admitting that our cold frame is not going to win any design awards It is simple and utilitarian, utilizing cast-off single-pane windows and scraps of unwanted lumber from around the farm. One of the “windows” is made using a large piece of plexiglass screwed to an old window screen for support. We replaced the glass of the old window years back after we narrowly avoided a catastrophic event.

(During a tour of the garden while cousins were visiting one summer, we were struck dumb by a horrific sight. Bella, my cousin’s then 3 year old daughter, was standing on top of the plate glass of the cold frame, right in the center of the window. No one could breathe. At the time it housed the same glass from the old 50’s era storm window. Its sashes had been gently rotting in place, the glazing nearly gone. To this day I don’t know what held that window in place long enough for my cousin to rescue his girl. After that moment we removed the real glass and replaced it with acrylic.)

The purpose of the cold frame is to create an earth-insulated mini-greenhouse in which to grow early greens. This works best in a year like this one, where the snow melts early and and the freeze depth is low. We had not been using the cold frame much in recent years because of its one fatal flaw; it is too far from the house. On a normal winter, it seems too laborious to trudge up to the top of the garden and excavate the doors through the snow. This year we simply walked up the lawn.

Rob did most of the work on this year’s cold frame repairs. He had to replace some of the frame, which buried directly in the soil had been prone to rot. He also shored up the windows and added two latches to keep the doors open during hotter spring days.

We already planted half of this little garden with arugula, spinach, chard, kale, and some lettuce leaves. We will see what we get. We have found that the arugula seems less prone to leaf beetles when grown in the protective shelter of the cold frame but the spinach is quick to resent a too-warm environment. In a week or so I am going to direct sow some spinach right into the outside garden and see what we get.