February 2010 Archives

Originally posted by Matt from Growing with Plants.

Some plants are just designed for snow. A grove of White Spruces display a horizontal motif on the Drake's Creek train in the White Mountains. Now, as we reach the end of February, the transition of seasons cross over and blend. One day, it's winter, the next, it's spring, then, winter grabs hold again. Here in New England, it is very noticeable, and it's what makes these next few months of transitions more about "seasons' than season, for we may end the snowy season, soon it will be the ice season, the black fly season, the mud season, a time of snow squalls, ice storms, balmy days, and before long, vernal pools and spring peepers. Until them, we take each day as it comes.

This weekend, I snowshoed in the most incredible conditions that felt more like those wheels of images in my older brother's view Master of Yellowstone in winter than it did of northern New England. If you can't tell yet, I love snow, and I love winter.

Near the summit of Jenning's Peak in the White Mountains of New Hampshire after a week of unusually strong winter storms.

Ice on Balsam Fir trees on the wind blown summit show remarkable patterns of crystallization, albeit in a horizontal manner.

I was planning another hiking trip this weekend, but when Thursday's huge storm hit, I thought that I might not go. For it was fierce.

Last Thursday was an odd weather day.After going out to dinner in Providence after work, I drove home north, one hour, I watched some Olympics, I went to bed. Around 1:00 am I was awakened by a sound not unlike a summer thunderstorm. It was very windy, with winds so strong that I thought that I was dreaming at first, with 50-70 mile per hour winds the tall spruce trees outside of my bedroom window we're leaning at an angle nearly breaking. I could hear large trees cracking in the back yard, and dropping with loud thuds. In the end, we lost two dead American Elms that narrowly missed the duck coop, but broke a fence in the back yard requiring the dogs to be hand walked until today when the fence was repaired.

Strange weather is not uncommon in New England, home of the perfect storm but this one was strange and odd, and I was wondering if the hiking trip I had planned in the White Mountains of New Hampshire might be cancelled since 350,000 residents had lost power with the storm, and more snow was expected in the higher terrain. Regardless, I decided to persevere and keep my commitment and not cancel. Out of the fifteen people who decided to participate, only six of us showed up in the snow.

My hiking bud's making their way up some of the steep trails.
The hike required snowshoes, and lots of gear since the weather in the White Mountains can change at any moment ( the highest recorded wind speed ever recorded on earth was on top of Mount Washington in 1934, it was 231 mph, in this same area). But fierce was not what I experienced, instead, something magical happened. I met my group after driving through heavy, heavy snow that was drifting down in a peaceful fluff, the sort of snow that sticks to every branch, twig and bud making the very steep snowy hike beautiful, yet difficult since the snow was unbroken and deep, and to make it more challenging, the hike was extremely steep in the deep snow, and the trail markers were hidden. Regardless, we all knew that we were experiencing rare beauty, and I will remember this hike for a lifetime.
My friend Jon stands looking into the blowing winter wind admiring the view from a look out on the trail.
The forest was quiet, but the top of the mountain brought strong, icy winds, and frost covered Balsam firs with horizontal ice crystals that stung as they hit your face. Mother nature has designed these northern growing evergreens so well, that although they look painfully frozen, the ice within the needles actually protect the branches, and the heavy snow at lower levels safely cling to the flexible branches. If these we're landscape plants in a garden, the native species wouldn't break, whereas the Chinese imported species seem to always snap. In the same was that imported species generally get nipped by early frosts in New England, yet native species emerge later.


Still, the snowdrops are coming up and the witch hazel's are late, but almost in bloom at home!

Originally posted by noreply@blogger.com (Rahel) from Elms in the Yard.

The Difference a Week Makes

Last week, I went for a hike in the Judean hills. Here are some of the pictures I got.

First of all, a general idea of the setting. A ruin, possibly from the Byzantine era:

The hills, with blossoming almond trees:

In a meadow near the trail is a grove of date palms. Hardly any light reaches the ground there, in dramatic contrast to the sun-drenched hills:

Three trees on top of a hill, with stone ruins:

This gorgeous blue-and-white butterfly was flying around and about. It finally lighted on an oak tree and stayed still long enough for me to take some pictures. This is the best of the shots I managed to get:

A scarlet pimpernel, face upturned:

A tzaharon (Barbary nut)—or, as I like to call it, a baby iris:

The trail that I was on features two springs. Here is clear water emerging from one of them:

Here is the tunnel of the second spring. It’s high enough to walk in if you have the proper shoes. (I didn’t, so I didn’t go wading. Next time, maybe.)

A meadow with lupines and almond blossoms:

An individual lupine:

A Small Pheasant’s-Eye:

Returning to civilization, a still parade of bicycles:

Back in Jerusalem, a lizard on a stone wall:

Hard to believe it was a week ago. We’ve had steady thundershowers for almost an entire day! (Thank goodness. We need the rain desperately.)

Sleet on Emek Refaim Street earlier today:

More rain and sleet:

Finally, something unusual that I saw downtown today: soda-water bottles from 1965! (Wow—they’re as old as I am!)

(Click on any photo to see a larger version. For all the pictures from my hike in the Judean hills, click here.)

Originally posted by noreply@blogger.com (Gina) from My Skinny Garden.

Originally posted by bizplanr@hughes.net (George Africa) from The Vermont Gardener.

The new hosta garden took longer than I thought to get to this point in its new history. Although there are somewhere around 150 varieties planted so far, I have divided up many clumps and split them up here and there. My plan is to have a nice looking garden in a couple years. In the interim I want be able to dig and sell larger hostas from the garden instead of relying on our potted selection. We have about 2500 potted in four and 6 quart pots but some of what I replanted are much bigger plants and they will do better in the ground.



If you look in the center of this picture (just above) you'll notice a row that is slightly wider compared to the widths the hostas are spaced at. This is intended to be the walkway. Sometime this late spring when the land dries a bit, I'll roll commercial road makers fabric down this path and then cover with some form of crushed gravel or slate. I want pathways that are easy to walk on but are also prominent enough to mentally hold visitors on the path. Each time I have gone to Maine Coastal Botanical Gardens I have wanted to yell at people who walk right into the middle of gardens to take pictures or read tags. I guess this "unpermissioned meandering" has to be expected if you offer a public garden but I don't care for it. When I was a child, the do's and don'ts of being polite and respectful of other peoples' property were lessons well taught but my practice and other folk's behaviors don't always match.

The raised walkway that was a road in bygone years will offer visitors a chance to look down on the gardens from perhaps 7-8 feet above them . In time as the hostas mature and crowd together, it should be an interesting sight and should afford unusual photographic opportunities. The colors, sizes and textures of the hosta leaves entice some to break out cameras and take pictures. I hope in time the native plants and the complimentary ones we plant will help to brand Vermont Flower Farm as a convenient place to stop and see some Vermont hardy shade plants.

I am not pleased that the predominant trees are boxelders (no space, friends) but they are native to the adjacent Winooski River stream banks and fields. They are actually members of the maple family but they lack the strength and desirability of our state tree, the sugar maple, and are much weaker than even the red maples. As such I have planted some lindens, three varieties of maple, some weeping larches and some blue cedars. I'll add more conifers this spring.


It's a hike up and down the hill from the parking lot and I expect this will deter some visitors from making the journey. Everyone with bottomless pockets advises me to buy refurbished golf carts or ATVs and offer rides to older folks. Actually younger visitors are more in need of a ride than most seniors. I'm getting to be an "older folk" and if I wanted to offer rides I'd have to be prepared to give up everything else I do. Maybe in years to come when I can't garden as much I'll want to ride and talk more but for right now, no carts. For me there is something special about being able to visit a garden and not be rushed. I hope visitors will agree with me and want to spend time.

Since I planted this garden to the point it is, I covered the entire property with recycled burlap bags. My plan is to cover the bags with shredded leaves and tree chip mulch to keep down weeds and conserve water. Over time as the hostas and other plants mature, the mulch will be less noticeable and hopefully the plants will begin to hide them. I have used burlap bags before and expect similar success.

When you visit Vermont Flower Farm, squeeze in some extra time to walk down the hill. If your visit is during a rainy day, week, month--we experienced all those last year--bring suitable footwear so you don't go sliding down the hill. This might be called a garden in motion as it is growing all the time. Come visit!


Writing from the mountain above Peacham Pond where the snowy road has turned to muddy tracks, wind gusts continue and the temperature holds at 33.8 degrees.

George Africa
The Vermont Gardener
Vermont Flower Farm
http://vermontflowerfarm.com
http://www.facebook.com/george.africa
Vermont Flower Farm and Gardens--new fan page on Facebook
http://www.twitter.com/vtflowerfarm

Originally posted by Mr. McGregor's Daughter from Mr. McGregor's Daughter.

Hah! Winter, you've overstayed your welcome, it's time to pack your bags and hit the road. You've punished us all enough, and your grip is now broken. The snowdrops are finally blooming.Galanthus elwesiiI'm certain that had they not been covered with snow, other snowdrops would have been blooming before today. The one in the photo sprouted later than others that were buried by snow earlier in

Originally posted by Tyra i Vaxholm from Tyras Trädgård / Tyras Garden.

Magical Pale 'Mauve Taupe' Pinks Pale pink sun trying to break through... but no. Beautiful icicles in pale pink hanging from the roof some of them are almost a metre long and some pale mauve pink tulips at the end. "Mauve (pronounced /ˈmoʊv/ (British), rhymes with "grove"; from the French form of Malva 'mallow' is a pale lavender-lilac color, one of many in the range of purples. Mauve is

Originally posted by North Country Maturing Gardener from North Country Maturing Gardener.

I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but this winter will have a devastating effect on your garden!

Originally posted by Rurality from Rurality.

It was warm! It was dry! Very unusual for our winter this year. I was afraid we'd missed the bluebells coming up, since last year by this time they'd been budding for at least a week.

There was no sign of bluebells at all, though; not a single leaf was sprouting. It's been cold. Unceasingly, mind-numbingly, give-no-quarter cold.



We did find a few little decumbent trilliums poking up (Trillium decumbens).



There were very few of them. These individuals were on one of the warmer, sunnier slopes. I thought I heard one of them sqeak, "First!"



A single budding Toothwort was nearby.



I was sure we'd find a few Hepatica blooming, but we had to be satisfied with their lovely leaves.



We grilled some salmon, took a nap, went on this little hike, then lounged in the sun. It was nearly 70°F (21°C). It's been so cold and wet and dreary lately. It was wonderful to have a break from all that, even if it was just for one weekend.

We cleaned up in the garden a little, pulling dry vines off their supports. This had been maddening, gloppy work when they were wet. We didn't even care that we were probably popping off dozens of morning glory seeds straight into the garden soil. There are hundreds of them there already. No, probably more like thousands. They were in this dirt when it was brought in. Every spring, we pluck the sprouts with zeal, but by summer's end the morning glories have always won the battle. But on a weekend like this, we just didn't care.

Originally posted by bizplanr@hughes.net (George Africa) from The Vermont Gardener.

For years the farm tractors, haying equipment and corn harvesters had avoided the piece of land I saw as a new garden. Part of that was the alders and boxelders that had grown from the river's edge toward the field. The area held water in spring and after any significant storm, and the soil was poor enough that weeds and grasses prevailed with vigor.
I walked around this piece time and again. The feeling was similar to how I felt for the years before I constructed the foundation garden on Peacham Pond Road. It was one of those glass-half-empty, glass-half-full things. Did I focus on the potential beauty or the back ache of cutting trees and pulling weeds?

I really liked the spot because the back side that formed our property line was an old road used to back up town and state trucks and dump sand into piles for the roads. The road stood out in my mind and I could envision a walk way with an opportunity for visitors to walk above the hostas and look down on the colors, textures and heights.


I couldn't quantify the required time in hours or days. I told myself that I would have it ready to begin planting by late June 2009. Gail smiled, I labored and the new garden was ready on time despite weeks of rain and cold weather. Here's a section (below) that was completed by June 16th. Some mature hostas were moved whole while others that I knew would be in demand were divided into smaller clumps and spaced appropriately. A mix of maple trees, blue cedars, lindens and weeping larches were added, and blocks of daylilies, 25-30 plants per block, were planted in one color of the same plant as I had seen done at Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens.

This should give a vision of "my vision", the idea I had as Gail and I walked the land the day we bought it. I'm not there yet but this shares the idea. More to come. Be patient.


Writing from the mountain above Peacham Pond where the sun has retired and the temperature has slipped to 21 degrees. Thanks for touring with me!

George Africa
The Vermont Gardener
Vermont Flower Farm

Follow me on Twitter at vtflowerfarm
Check out our new Facebook Page Vermont Flower Farm and Gardens

Originally posted by Blackswamp_Girl from A Study in Contrasts.

I am admittedly a foliage girl--and by that, I mean a foliage addict.  If a plant has unusual variegation, dark color, or a twist... I drool.  And then scheme on how to add that plant to my collection.  So I simultaneously adored Pam's idea for Foliage Follow-Up after every Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day... and dreaded the thought of posting a photo of every single plant that I wanted to feature. 

So I am resolved to limiting myself to just three different plants each week.  (Not counting the opening photo above--that's technically a photo showing the fuzzy stem on the spent flower of the paphiopedilum, not the awesome checkered-looking foliage.  I SWEAR.  ;)  Here are this month's, in no particular order:






I had to put my hand in there for one photo, to show off the size of those leaves.  They're so pretty and large that they look fake!

Hope you've enjoyed my Foliage Follow-Up... and remember, you can find more fine foliage to enjoy by visiting Pam @ Digging throughout the day today.

Originally posted by Andrea Bellamy from Heavy Petal.

My community garden plot. Broccoli, garlic, cabbage, leeks, kale, and a heavy rye/clover cover crop make for a lush-looking garden — even in February. While much of North America is having an unusually harsh winter, here in Vancouver, it’s downright balmy — much to the chagrin of the organizers of the Olympic Winter Games! The mild [...]

Originally posted by mrimomma@gmail.com (lisa) from millertime.

Originally posted by Gotta Garden from Gotta Garden.

....and continues...as we await the next storm...due in tomorrow with the "potential for greater than 5 inches"...as we are only on the edge of the storm...thankfully. I heard on tv that this winter may be the all time record for snow in this area. No kidding. I thought perhaps you'd like to see the nice icy patch that I slipped on...Ha. That's the end of my driveway....that's the unplowed

Originally posted by My Chutney Garden from My Chutney Garden.

Some parts of my garden still remain. A few of these are old photographs but many of the plants are still in the garden struggling along. Miniature pineapple is one that I have managed to leave there AND I have bought a few with me for security. Particularly at Carnival time, I am always amazed at nature's palette. Who would have thought purple tips? I have seen this colouring on bromeliads

Originally posted by Tina from Happy Hobby Habit.

.
Yay! The plant stand is up!
:)
Of course, the only thing on there so far are the onions, but those 3 shelves will start filling up quickly in March.
I can't wait!
It'll be little green things everywhere. Winter doesn't get any better than that.



Since the light from window sills just won't cut it for healthy seedlings, we made this one from the plans at T's Flowers & Things three years ago. Very easy to set up and cheap, cheap, cheap.

The only problem we found with this design is that the upright sides should be much longer - there was very little room for plants as they got taller, like toms. We simply bought more PVC and cut longer pieces. Problem solved!
No matter how big or small the space you have, with a little measuring the plans can be changed to fit in just about any area, including closets. You could also add more levels if you have ceilings high enough.

The best thing about this design is that you can put it together so quickly (it took us all of 8 minutes to put up) and you can take the whole thing apart and store it in a very small space when not in use.
I labeled the parts, so assembly is a breeze.

What do you use for inside seed starting?

Happy (inside sowing) Growing!
.

Originally posted by kathy from Skippy's Vegetable Garden.

Can anyone help me identify this hawk?

Yesterday on our walk, Skippy and I came across this hawk. He was in the bushes pulling at something. When he saw us, he flew into a tree with what looked like a pine cone and leaves. There must have been something tasty in there too. Grubs or a rodent.

Originally posted by mlittle from Oceanic Wilderness.

It was bittersweet taking our last ghost orchid trip to Little Slough. When Chris found our slough in 2007 (you’ll have to scroll down to May because I didn’t link titles back then) we’d been searching for ghost orchids for several years. We’d tromped all around Fakahatchee Strand looking for various plants and just exploring, [...]

Originally posted by Blackswamp_Girl from A Study in Contrasts.

First off, I need to put out this general disclaimer:  I am NOT a houseplant person.  Really.  It's not about having houseplants, it's more about taking in strays for the winter.  Like the exotic hoya above that clearly deserved a good home--one in which it would be much admired.  Or like the lemongrass that had to be overwintered:


Or like the funky forms of common houseplants that found themselves tragically dumped on the clearance table at the garden center for some reason or another, like this twisty sansevieria:


And this variegated shefflera:


Sometimes, it's just about finding winter homes for plants that you want to have outside again in the summer, like this succulent and agave:


Or like this shell ginger, cordyline, agave, lipstick plant, and the thanksgiving cactus that dresses up the porch's little birdbath each summer:

And sometimes  it's just nice to have decor that distracts from undone projects, like my half-stripped leaded glass window:

Okay, so now that we've established that I am most definitely NOT a houseplant person... let's tally up how many denizens of the plant world have managed to infiltrate my domain anyway.  Mr. McGregor's Daughter is hosting The Great Houseplant Census of 2010 this week, so I figured it was as good a time as any to take a little inventory.  I think the census is always done geographically, so here goes:

Basement: 2
'Vancouver Centennial' geranium & passalong brugmansia

Kitchen: 45*
7 different cactus, Meyer lemon, 3 rosemary, 2 hoya, 1 amaryllis, a pot of aloe, 4 random succulents, 2 agave, 1 jasmine, 'Silver Satin' pothos, variegated pothos, monstera, cast iron plant, 'Autumn' philodendron, 'Cerveza & Lime' licorice plant, 2 staghorn ferns, silver kalanchoe, 12 tillandsias, 2 orchids
*Does not count a 4th rosemary that is on death's door, nor any of the many cuttings (succulents, wandering jew, coleus, etc.) that also are in residence there

Dining Room: 18
1 amaryllis, 2 (both paphs) orchids, 2 dark leaf begonias, variegated abutilon, variegated shefflera, lemongrass, orchid cactus, 'Twisted Sister' cast iron plant, twisty spider plant, agave, 2 succulents, large-leaf hoya, jade plant, peace lily, dark leaf philodendron

Living Room: 27*
Spider plant, cast iron plant, helichrysum, marjoram, sedum, asparagus fern, phormium, 12 different succulents in three different pots, shell ginger, euphorbia (crown of thorns relative), red cordyline, lipstick plant, blue agave, thanksgiving cactus, dark-leaf ficus, jewel orchid, ponytail palms
*Does not count the random succulent cuttings that are rooting at the base of the cordyline

Bathroom: 7
3 different draceana, purple heart/setcreasea, ZZ plant, spotted bromeliad, golden pothos

Bedrooms: 8
Variegated trailing philodendron, 3 different bromeliads, 2 huge cycads, black bamboo, multicolored croton

Attic: 20
2 bay laurels, 'Silver Falls' dichondra, 2 different elephant ears, Hawaiian snow bush, dutchman's pipe, snail vine, passionvine, abutilon melapotanicum, dragonwing begonia, rainbow draceana, euphorbia, lemon verbena, dark purple ajuga (long story!), 'Amazon Sunset' parrot's beak, curry plant, passalong plumeria, scented geranium, and that tropical plant that flowers in red clusters whose name always escapes me.

GRAND TOTAL:  127

... wow.  That's three digits.  WOW.  Um... I guess it's a good thing I'm NOT a houseplant girl, isn't it?! 

Originally posted by bizplanr@hughes.net (George Africa) from The Vermont Gardener.