Rustling Leaves

The Farm

2007-07-01T04:31:00.000-05:00

I pass this farm every day during my new commute and immediately recognized its photogenic quality. It is, for me, an interesting subject and I enjoy seeing it daily, watching how light, weather, time of day and the seasons keep it from seeming static. The field in front often has cows and calves in it who seem mildly annoyed and surprised when I pop over to take a picture.

I abuptly stopped when I rounded the corner and saw the clouds piling up in the Mohawk Valley beyond the silos. A lot of detail is lost in this picture but in the original the clouds and trees evoke paintings of English landscapes and the Hudson River school. I reduced and moved my logo because it seemed a shame to obscure the most interesting section of the picture.

Where I've been

2007-06-25T06:00:00.000-05:00

Papaver orientale 'Prince of Orange' - indeed

I wanted to say I've been living with indigenous people in New Guinea or trekking the mountains of New Zealand or finalizing the arrangements for moving to Tenerife in the Canary Islands but I can't. No, I've taken a few weeks hiatus as I adjust to a terrific new job. With a much longer commute and a constant stream of gardening and other outdoor activities, a reordering of priorities happened and this blog ended near the bottom.

poppy buds

Less time at home has sharpened my interest and made me more attentive to the growing cycles of everything. My intent for this blog has never been to chronicle the minutiae of every task but discover and share in the why's behind what is happening here. I'm an observer by nature and nature is what I'm interested in.

ready to "pop"

Good news is I have been gifted with a digital camera (thanks Beth!). Now I am teasingly addressed as "Ansel Adams" - I wish - but I've always admired the work of Eliot Porter. Anyway, expect more photography and less text as this blog moves forward. I much prefer the written word but it's that "finding the time" thing again.

poppies and peonies

Spring flowering tree

2007-05-10T06:00:00.000-05:00

a large Amelanchier bordering the horse run

The first spring after we moved here, I noticed small white trees flowering in early May. They weren’t found in great numbers in any one locale but were lightly sprinkled among the other trees, especially along tree margins and in transition areas bordering open fields and along roadsides. They hadn’t shown up in the meager resources I read before coming here and were a delightful surprise discovering them. But what were they?

Without a huge amount of sleuthing, I found out they were Amelanchier (am-el-AN-keer), a name that begins flowing off the tongue after the 372nd utterance. It's no wonder it has a stable of common names: Serviceberry, Juneberry, Shad Bush, and my favorite, Shad Blow. Like salmon and steelhead, shad are fish that migrate from salt to fresh waters to reproduce, their spring runs coinciding with the blooming of this tree, hence the name.

Locally common but not abundant, they are mostly found in part shade in the company of other trees. I have found them on dry hillsides and almost boggy lowlands but suspect they prefer soils that are moist and well draining.

It isn’t until they flower that their Rose family inclusion is apparent. Small sprays of flowers are white with a tint of pink and have many stamens, a typically rose characteristic. Fruits are black colored when mature and are relished by birds. The oval leaves are distinctive enough for identifying trees when out of bloom and are complimentary to the branching structure.

One of the odd things I noticed last year was early leaf drop in August, depriving us of their autumn tones of beige and rust. I don’t know if it was the excessive rains or earlier predation from Eastern Tent Caterpillars but Amelanchier and other small trees were under stress and defoliated early.

full picture of my May header

Green-eyed but not envious

2007-04-29T21:00:00.000-05:00

I posted again at Cold Climate Gardening.

I thought of it as a here's-my-problem and here's-my-solution kind of post but realize readers' confusion for writing about a plant so early before its season. Now is an excellent time for transplanting them into your garden, allowing for root growth to establish them and producing a respectable showing during bloom later this year.

Watering needs

2007-04-23T06:17:00.000-05:00

I have a post on the watering tools I use and why I use them over on Cold Climate Gardening.

Iris - wrapping it up

2007-04-21T06:00:00.000-05:00

I'm looking forward in the future to introducing myself to the Louisianas, their rich tones of rusty browns and other colors providing an interesting counterpoint to the rest of the garden. I've only just started with a few shade lovers and want to grow more. I also have one Japanese Iris, ensata 'Momojido', and want to perfect my growing of it; it is a sorry little plant and has not thrived. Perhaps moving it or replenishing its soil will work but sometimes there is an incompatibility, the relationship is not in equilibrium. That sometimes happens in gardening, the wrong plant in the wrong garden, and then it's time to find a new home for it with someone else. I'm not upset if it happens and want only the best for it, it will be an amicable parting.

Native to the Northern Hemisphere, Iris are grown and enjoyed worldwide. From high alpine ridges to deep forests, and deserts to wetlands along with many grasslands, Iris are found. Some have been used medicinally and others show up as representative symbols for royal houses and youth organizations. There is something about their recognizable flowers that is so appealing and on many levels. Their world is deep and large and I must explore further. I've often thought that a garden without Iris is the weaker for it and makes a statement about the gardener.

For more information please visit:

AIS: American Iris Society
Historic Iris Preservation Society
Species Iris Group of North America
North American Species introducing us to what's always been here
Species Iris Database with interactive capability

For specific classes and types of Iris visit:

Tall Bearded Iris Society
The Median Iris Society
Reblooming Iris Society
Dwarf Iris Society of America
Society for Pacific Coast Native Iris
Society for Siberian Iris
Spuria Iris Society and another Spuria Iris Society
Society for Louisiana Iris
Society for Japanese Iris
Japanese Iris tribute page by a Belgian enthusiast
Aril Society International has good eye candy

International Iris Societies

Canadian Iris Society
British Iris Society
Danish Iris and Lily Society
Italian Iris Society
French Iris and Bulbous Plants Society
Gesellschaft der Staudenfreunde is the Iris branch of the German Perennials Society
Middle-European Iris Society
Russian Iris Society
Japan Iris Society and in English
New Zealand Iris Society
Iris Society of Australia
South Australian Iris Society

Iris Research from Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden which includes a cool phylogeny of Iris based on DNA sequencing

Most of the societies have links for where to buy Iris but in case they might have missed some try:

The Iris Page from Cyndi's Catalog of Garden Catalogs. Cyndi's is an enormous compendium of mail-order gardening sources.
Cayeux a French Iris breeder. I enjoyed the pictures even though I don't know the language.

My Aunt and Uncle used to visit us while I was growing up. We didn't see them very often, our lives were separate and didn't intersect much, and each visit was a pleasure. They have unique voices, on the order of old radio and movie stars, and I loved hearing them talk. My Aunt had a way of looking at you that let you know her expectations of you were pretty high and you didn't want to see her being disappointed with you.

When I was older I found out she loved gardening and eventually specialized with orchids, covering a small patio and growing them into perfection. She would lose herself with her gardening and plants, taking a respite from the day and replenishing her soul. Eventually they moved into a retirement community, and of course, bringing a few special plants with them. I don't know how my Aunt did it but she managed to secure a unit with a small garden, one of the few and rarely available. The scale was reduced, true, but the joy of being outside and involved with something she loved was still there. My Aunt passed away a few years ago and it's outside I feel closest to her, sharing the same processes, enjoying the weather, and feeling part of an ancient tradition. It's where I imagine Aunt Iris and her sisters, Rose and Fern, being forces of nature and taking on the world.

Still working on the Iris

2007-04-19T08:30:00.000-05:00

I've been writing my Iris posts on the fly, scurrying to get them done and uploading them in a timely manner. I'm behind right now because of a few sleepless nights this week and trying to verify some of my facts in a future post are accurate.

But until then, how about some good news? We're in for a stretch of better weather here, from today through next week, with much higher temperatures and a true look at spring. A couple of bluebirds, male and female, were spotted here yesterday and I hope some insects are flying around for them. They were awfully pretty in the evergreens with a snowy background but at the same time it was weird. I'm glad they're back: the snows are receding, Salix sp. (Willow) and Acer rubrum (Red Maple) are blooming and we're on the right track, once again, for spring.

PCNs - a picture is worth...

2007-04-17T22:00:00.000-05:00

If Irises are the rainbow flowers, then PCN (Pacific Coast Native) hybrids are the technicolor dreams of what the other Iris can only aspire. Advancing beyond all the rest, the layered combinations of colors often bleed and ooze into traceries of veins. Many have bold central blotches and splotches of contrasting colors, surpassing the ocellated eyes of peacock feathers. Their only rivals for that kind of patterning and coloration comes from some of the South African Moraeas and California Calochortus, but those are bulbs.

PCNs are not perfect and have their faults. They are not attractive without their flowers; calling them "rough" is being kind. The leaves often have brown edges and tips, looking haggard and beat up and without distinction. They require better than average drainage and part shade, being at home on slopes beneath the edges of trees. They have unproven hardiness here but I would still like to experiment with them, discovering for myself if it's possible they will survive and thrive. I would begin with straight species and close hybrids, seeking clones from high elevations or of proven cold tolerance. It is a challenge to grow them, no question, but it is one I would gladly accept.

I realized after I wrote my other post about PCNs that I was too excited discovering a new hybridizer and didn't adequately explain why I think they are at the pinnacle of all Iris breeding. I could go on and on, trying to describe them adequately and failing, piling on the adjectives but running out of them too soon. So instead of listening to me dishing up more blather, see for yourself.

This first section of plants are all winners of the Mitchell Award, given by the American Iris Society in recognition of the year's best new introduction of PCN. The award is named in honor of Sidney B. Mitchell, first president of the California Horticultural Society.

The next section is a sampling of work from top hybridizers.

'Clarice Richards' by Richards

'Menodocino Blue' by Canning

'Light Winds' by Ghio

'Lines That Rhyme' by Ghio

'Ocean Blue' by Ghio

'Pinole Princess' by Wood

'Pretty Boy' by Ghio

'Sunol Grade' by Ghio

The plants in this last section were all grown and photographed by Monterey Bay Nursery, a wholesale grower and major supplier of extensive lines of perennials, vines, exotic shrubs, and tender potted plants to Northern Californians. We used to live within four miles of them and sometimes "sneaked" in to purchase plants and look around. These pictures don't do the plants justice and it was always funny that many of them had color descriptors for names.

'Canyon Snow'
An outstanding plant known for its floriferousness, growth, and vigor.
This widely planted older variety is used as a standard against newer hybrids.

'Joey'

'Pink and Yellow'

'Plum and Yellow'

'Red Improved'

'San Andreas'

'Silver Circle'

'Upper Echelon'

'White and Purple'

Tomorrow: Wrapping it up

The other Iris

2007-04-16T03:47:00.000-05:00

Iris pseudacorus

I think of this section of plants as the leftovers, the hodgepodge of exhaustion that are the second choice at plant sales for most folks, after the sexier stable mates of Beardeds and other Iris are gone. I'm not going to go on and on about how great or terrific these are and how each could be an essential and vital element in any garden. I'm just not. But I have grown all of them and found something admirable and desirable in each of them.

Whenever I hear the word "flag" used in relation to Iris, Iris pseudacorus is the first plant that comes to mind. Cleverly named "Yellow Flag", it is an easy and dependable grower, adaptable to a wide range of habitats and growing well under normal garden conditions. Its favorite environment is aquatic and it thrives in moist, wet, marsh, bog, and water-saturated soils. I haven't grown many of the water-loving Irises but from my experience and reading more, it can tolerate deeper waters than the rest. But don't think water is a crucial component for it and necessary for optimum health, it makes a fine garden plant when landlocked. Mine is the variety 'Sun Cascade', a double flowered selection that I'm not crazy about. My preference with Iris is for single flowers so my 'Sun Cascade' receives nothing special from me. Planted at the base of a Cercis canadensis (Redbud), it fills the void, superbly I grudgingly admit, between soil and lower branches. It is a difficult and trying site for most plants, with poor soil and an unending mashing of small and large rocks but the Iris doesn't care. It flowers reliably and abundantly each year and its foliage remains strong and blemish-free all season. Oh dear, it sounds like I'm liking it.

Iris pseudacorus

One of the floral details I like most about pseudacorus is a fine line of brown that is etched through its lower petals, the falls. Looking like its been painted by an artist using a feather for a brush, it moves an ordinary yellow flower into something more. This line of distinction is even more accentuated in the lighter primrose-colored varieties. If the regular ones are sun-colored then these are surely moon-glowed. Some may see them as too pale and washed-out, bleached by the sun and a mockery of it but I don't care, they are my favorites.

Iris 'Holden Clough'

Originating in the Lancashire countryside at Holden Clough Nursery is the surprisingly named Iris, 'Holden Clough'. Arising as an unknown hybrid or a deeply held secret, it is strongly apparent that pseudacorus is one of its parents. Similar in leaf but on a smaller scale, it has grown well. I never had great expectations for it because of a lack of close association and experience with it. But it's here now and doing fine, helping to fill a void during others' bloom cycles. Lost in the landscape at a distance, its true place is up close, where the intricate play of brown drawn on gold can be admired. If pattern and tone are your vice, then this is your fix.

Iris foetidissima

I have grown Iris foetidissima for many years, decades I confess, and appreciate its virtues. Chief among these is its adaptability for growing in shade, a difficult assignment for most plants. That it prefers such a location is noteworthy and its ability to compete with the surface roots of trees is stellar. Its leaves are so smooth they seem plastic and make a great contrast to other shade lovers. It has two vices that must be mentioned if you are considering this plant. The first fault can be deciphered from its name - foetidissima - to smell unpleasant, rank, or fetid. The odor is released when the leaves are crushed or broken, something I'm not in the habit of doing with my other plants so why this one? I don't find it to be strong or especially rank but to each their own nose. The other characteristic is not as easily excused: small ho-hum flowers that put the plain in Jane. But you should try to encourage as much flowering as possible because of its other great virtue - colorful seeds. Opening in the fall, the seedpods gaily display their bounty in shades of deep orange; that there are also white and golden seeded varieties seals the deal. As flashy as the flowers are modest, the seeds brighten up a shaded fall garden. Leave them on the plants and in time you'll soon have seedlings growing, creating drifts more becoming than anything I've done. As easy to transplant as other Iris, use them to fill holes or for profit or barter or even compost, there will be more. It reproduces without becoming weedy and I like that.

Iris spuria

I have scant experience with Spuria Iris, one plant I confess, but I've liked what I've seen. Great height is their hallmark and with their rigidly erect leaves I thought an arrow was buried up to its fletching. Mine flowered blue and purple mixed with bronze, presented for inspection without any bending from me. Not loving wet soils, they thrived on a well-drained slope. I don't currently have one but that doesn't mean I'm not looking. Most varieties are purple but other colors are making inroads so let's encourage the breeders to continue refining and expanding their range by speaking well of them in greater than hushed tones. The Iris, silly.

If Iris could be a canine, then brevicaulis would be a lap dog. Very short, no more than a foot, this moisture-lover meanders on long rhizomes about the ground, popping up new sections of itself quite a distance from the rest, as if playing a hiding game with itself and me. With palest blue flowers in spring, I can't help but like it, a plant with humor amidst the beauty.

There is a range of spring-blooming Iris available as bulbs for planting in the fall. One of my weaknesses is small plants, the things that are wee, and when they are replicas of larger plants, so much the better. I'll call them the little ones and they come in all the classic Iris colors: blue, purple, violet, yellow, and white. I had a discouraging experience with them once and it has kept me from growing them again. I had a range of colors and planted them into terracotta containers, imagining them growing into perfect displays of Irisdom. The garden snails had other plans for those plants and easily overran all my attempts to prevent them. I thought Irises were impervious to animal onslaughts but they must have better e-mail, servers, and cellulars than me. I have gotten over it, mostly, and should reintroduce myself to these miniatures.

My newest acquisition is Iris versicolor, a native. This will be its first year of flowering for me and I'm eagerly waiting for its palest of blue flowers to brighten a shaded bed. I had no hesitation jettisoning some Hostas to make room for it. As it increases in size and I augment it with others, maybe the whole bed will become Hosta-free.

I think as I reread this post my new motto must be: More Iris Please.

Tomorrow: PCN Iris reprise

Siberians - more than the hardy alternative

2007-04-15T12:00:00.000-05:00

Iris sibirica 'Fond Kiss'

Iris sibirica 'Raindrop Melody'

Of all the cold hardy Iris, Siberians are my favorite. They are tough and can stand up to a lot of abuse from a northern environment. They are dependable and long-lived, growing well without much fussing. And like ornamental grasses, they add structure to beds, borders, and naturalistic plantings. Whether an Asian themed garden of contemplation, an eclectic cottage garden, a smartly dressed up townhouse, or a composition of meadow and wildflowers, Siberian Iris will be at home.

Iris sibirica 'Here Be Dragons'

Iris sibirica 'Banish Misfortune'

I bet I could even make them work in a garden devoted to succulents and cacti, taking into consideration their need for even moisture. Regular watering and full sun are their main requirements for good health. They appreciate a light feeding but it isn't crucial. Mine haven't been fed for four years and bloomed incredibly last year. I don't dead-head and leave the seed pods on, not for seed saving but because I like the way they look and their contrast to the foliage. A clean up of old foliage is really the only thing they require to be good looking for an entire season.

Iris sibirica 'Summer Revels'

Iris sibirica 'Pennywhistle'

Long ago, after a long day of volunteering at the Arboretum, I noticed Beth holding a small plant in her lap on our way home. Calling it modest looking was being overly complimentary to it as it looked like a few sprigs of a rough grass. As head of the bulb department, Beth had an excellent relationship with the head nurseryman for the Arboretum. When I asked about the plant, she said Alec had given it to her as a special gift and I had to believe her as it looked very demure. After consideration for its needs, we found a spot for it and planted it out.

It grew well but surprised me by going dormant that first winter, something I didn't know Iris did because my experience with Iris at that point had been with Beardeds and PCNs. Beth let me know that dormancy was the best time to divide Siberians as they don't like it and prefer to remain in place without being disturbed. She also said dividing can set back their flowering. I was not being impressed with this little plant.

Spring came and our little plant grew, sending up more shoots than the previous year, and I could imagine it becoming a robust specimen in the future. I also, I swear, thought I could see it becoming a bit saucy. We were proud of it and my interest grew alongside it.

It flowered its first spring with us and it knocked me in the head with what an Iris could be, that the world of them was a great deal larger than I had imagined. They were deep blue, in a shade between navy and royal, and looked like tropical butterflies had graced us with their visit. Such a pretty plant.

A piece of the original Iris has been in every garden since, and is highlighted in a prominent bed in the front garden here in New York. It grows like a dream with minimal care and is a joy to have. It is also a living reminder of many special people, places, and times.

Iris sibirica 'Ships Are Sailing'

Iris sibirica 'So Van Gogh'
This is the perfect name for an amazing plant

The plants in the pictures are the incredible work of Jan Sacks and Marty Schafer of Joe Pye Weed's Garden. Their hybridizing is boldy breaking a trail that hasn't been traveled before and they must be using an unknown alchemy to achieve these results. Horticulture Magazine wrote an article about them here and here.

Additional information can be found at The Society for Siberian Iris, including a list of commercial sources. The Society also has a page here devoted to awarding-winning Siberian Iris.

My final thought is this: there is no letter "e" in sibirica but there are 3 "i's". Anything else is wrong.

Tomorrow: More Iris - the lesser knowns and forgotten ones.

Cold Frame

2007-04-14T22:00:00.000-05:00

I have a new post on cold frames and my first book review over on Cold Climate Gardening. Check it out.

Bearded Iris - plants of many colors

2007-04-14T11:00:00.000-05:00

Iris germanica 'Harvest of Memories'

I selected this variety because it is free-flowering and has outstanding vigor with a robust growing habit.

When the word "Iris" is mentioned, many people will be thinking of hardy garden Iris. Most are classified as Tall Bearded and the botanical name is Iris germanica but never mind, they are the Iris for most gardeners and it is easy to see why. Thoroughly hardy, they are adaptable to a range of environments, thriving here in the east in moist soils and cold temps and being equally at home as drought tolerant stalwarts out west. Along with garden Primulas and Lupinus, Pansy/Violas, and Salvias, Bearded Iris are available in every color and can top them all by spicing it up with a dizzying array of multi-tones, sprinkles, and edges.

My Mom had an enormous bed of Iris in colors of yellow and purple and a few whites. They were never divided or replanted and over the years had become such an entanglement of overlapping rhizomes that isolating and tracing individual plants to their origins was impossible. They bloomed every spring, enhancing the garden with a deep and intoxicating aroma that to this day, when I catch a whiff will always associate with the color purple.

On a road trip once, Beth and I caught a small roadside sign signaling a nearby Iris farm was open. We followed the sign on our return home and proceeded climbing a steep hill to the nursery. Large and deep beds were burgeoning with arrays of color that it was apparent why Iris had been named after the rainbow goddess. We spent several hours walking the beds and admiring the plants, trying to whittle our wants down and making hard purchasing decisions. The nursery was a retired couple's dream and it's one I sometimes reflect on.

As with Hemerocallis (daylilies), the ranks of hybrids number in the deca-thousands. With such endless choices, choosing a variety for the garden is not easy. I'm a sucker for their colors and am always attracted to the reds and browns. Sometimes it's a yellow I'm after but then there are the near-blacks to consider. The pale colors that look as if clouds have been resting on their surfaces, leaving traces of themselves behind, always attract my interest. Well, you see how it goes. In some far distant future I would like to create a bed composed of blues in colors of sky, confederate, wedgewood, royal and navy with some whites added for spicing to simulate a water's edge on land.

But what I most want from the Beardeds are good growers with clean foliage. I realize as a former breeder of plants there is an unceasing pressure to release new varieties annually. But sometimes plants are released that are not representative of a breeder's best work. Flower form and color, always paramount goals, may be there but if the plant has weak and sparse stems, awkward proportions, slow to grow and increase in size, or susceptible to disease it should have been composted or burned and not made into a new variety. I feel if a new variety does not improve on existing lines of color and form they should also be culled out of existence. And yet the monetary costs of the breeding work have to be recouped at some point. It is an ethical decision every breeder must face and it isn't an easy one.

I am currently excited by a new-but-old variety for me. Received as a gift from friends, it was found on their property amidst a young woodland. I'm theorizing they are relics of an old garden site and the seedlings and saplings of trees have grown through them. I know they will be purple but that won't change my eagerness to see them. They are the plants with the green nubbins I wrote about earlier and their look of being fresh and full holds much promise.

Beth and I brought many plants with us when we moved to New York but there are three groups of plants I wish hadn't been left behind. I didn't know lilies would thrive here and regret they didn't make the trip with us. I had a collection of unnamed large-flowered Clematis of Japanese breeding work and they also are no longer with us. The last one was an Iris Beth bought on a Yahoo! plant auction, before the days of juggernaut e-bay. It came from Missouri and had simple flowers without the ruffles and steroidal look of today's hybrids. The plants grew vigorously and were chock-a-block full of stems; they also had the cleanest, freshest foliage of any Iris I have ever seen. I miss those Iris.

Tomorrow: Saying hello to Siberians

"New Iris"

2007-04-13T06:00:00.000-05:00

A significant effort, even revolutionary, is underway that is causing many plants to be reclassified. Basing their work on DNA, taxonomists are reshuffling their lists and dealing familiar plants into new stacks of families and genera. The changes always surprise me when I stumble upon them and I'm finding it hard to keep up with what's current.

This is exactly what happened when I found a couple of familiar plants had “lost” their names and become Iris.

Old Name	New Name	Common Name
Belamcanda chinensis	Iris domestica	Blackberry Lily
Pardanthopsis dichotoma	Iris dichotoma
x-Pardancanda	Iris x-norrisii	Candy Lily

Iris x-norrisii (Candy Lily)

For once the marketing reps got it right with the common name.
These have been an absolute delight in the garden.

The interesting aspect to all this is how often the earlier taxonomists were correct. Basing their classifying on careful inspection of a plant's physical characteristics, especially its reproductive structures, they grouped plants into related families and generas that are being verified with current DNA testing. Some changes are being made now, this is true, but they were more often correct than wrong. Tomorrow: More Iris!

Note: Bluebird Nursery is the source of the pictures and my garden plants.

I'm thinking of Iris

2007-04-12T07:00:00.000-05:00

unnamed Grisso PCN Iris hybrid

I was able to see my Iris this week for the first time since January. Their little nubbins of green poking above ground were satisfying to find and were another reminder that spring is here. And after today's snowfall, once again, I won't see them until who knows when. But that isn't going to stop me from thinking about them.

Iris are one of few plants with almost universal admirers. I have yet to find anyone with an active dislike for them, although they are probably out there. And that's too bad for them, because it is definitely their loss.

unnamed Grisso PCN Iris hybrid

A spot in every garden can be found for Iris as they are widely distributed and inhabit many different environmental niches. They range from water-loving plants thriving in wet and marshy areas to plants that have adapted to surviving dry and harsh places and would rot away in normal garden conditions. From full sun to deep shade and sometimes clinging to mountainsides, Iris can be found.

I have yet to meet an Iris I didn't care for but my absolute favorites are PCN species and hybrids. Encompassing about 10-20 species, these Pacific Coast Native Iris are pretty unto themselves but when humans started hybridizing them the results have become unreal. Hallmarks of these Iris have always been their fine details of line and subtle shadings and hybridizers have built on that with perfect spins of the color wheel.

unnamed Grisso PCN Iris hybrid

These pictures were taken from this article that focuses on the work of Ryan Grisso, a relatively new hybridizer and it looks like a perfect match of plant and man.

visitors in Grisso's garden during a tour in 2006

I have Iris on my mind and will be posting more of the same during this week. Tomorrow: new Iris species.

We're not alone

2007-04-09T05:13:00.000-05:00

According to this article, cold weather affected a large part of the eastern half of the nation over the weekend. When Tennessee and South Carolina woke up to temps in the low 20's on Sunday, you know it's cold. This NY Times article about Easter in the city made me smile, letting me know that Christmas was warmer than Easter.

In my last post, a comment made by Kathy had the right observation. Better to have continuing cold weather now, while the plants are still dormant, than later during active growth. I do not want to watch flowers on fruiting plants get frozen. As much as I don't want that happening, I would only be losing the current year's crop. The farmers' are losing their livelihood.

I want my Spring back

2007-04-06T07:22:00.000-05:00

morning sun on the garden in spring - 2006

Where did Spring go?

Breaking out of winter, it was satisfying seeing the piles and mounds of snow disappear and the world of plants waking up again. No more snow blowing or shoveling, it was time to think of soils and mulch and getting excited over another gardening season.

Tuesday was in the 60's and sunny, feeling like mid-spring or late summer. Wednesday we slipped into an autumn feel, with rain all day and a touch of sleet now and then, as though we were salted by (insert your favorite deity). Woke up on Thursday with everything covered in snow and flurries all day and for the next few days. And today, Friday, we started out with 20 and the next couple of days are not going to improve (read that as getting warm again) on that.

Crocus are in color and Violas have buds but neither is going to open for a while. It is frustrating and I'm feeling like the joggers running in place on street corners, waiting for the light to change and they can run again. This is a time for moving forward and I don't want to be held back. Sigh, it's spring weather in the Great Northeast.

I've got Magnolias on my mind

2007-04-03T18:00:00.000-05:00

I have a post on the topic of Magnolias on Cold Climate Gardening. It's like deja vu.

Here's a little history on Magnolias I ~~stole~~ gleaned from Monrovia Nursery, of all places:

The genus Magnolia was conferred by Linnaeus who named it after Pierre Magnol, (1638-1715) a botanist of Montpellier, France. There are over 35 species and countless hybrids and this one falls into a group known generally as Magnolia x soulangeana produced from two distinct species. One parent is the white flowered Magnolia denudata, introduced from China by Banks in 1789 where it is locally known as Yulan magnolia and classified for a time as M. yulan. The other parent, red flowered Magnolia lilliflora was introduced from Japan by Carl Thunberg in 1790. This cross and its subsequent varieties and hybrids began 1820 and were named for Chevalier Soulange-Bodin who raised the first hybrid in France.

The number of species listed, 35, is way too low, but the rest of the information is interesting. The Frenchmen sure lent us some beautiful names to remember them by.

Here's the original of the picture I used for April's header and my post on Cold Climate Gardening:

I really liked the flowers but the background was distracting and uninteresting, so I erased it. It's my first time doing that to a picture and it turned out ok. Not good enough by any means for a graphics professional but at least a "c". I thought the different colored backgrounds I added were appropriate and worked well with the color schemes on each blog.

An aha moment

2007-03-31T22:15:00.000-05:00

I was lucky enough to cobble something together (on frogs!) for a new post on Cold Climate Gardening. Check it out when you can.

Many of the window ledges are filling up with packs and trays of seedlings with no end in sight. It takes 6-7 days for tomatoes to germinate and a few were coming up from last week's sowing. It seemed odd they were only germinating on one side of the tray but no activity on the other. And then my aha/doh! moment hit me and I slapped myself in the head. The window is too cool for the seeds closest to it but the ones above the radiator were doing fine. The tray was turned around and everything is right with the world once more. Not a biggie but I found this amusing.

My Favicon

2007-03-25T18:20:00.000-05:00

During earlier times of Internet usage I discovered sites that had little pictures and symbols attached to the URL's in the address line of my web browser. "How cool," I thought, being immediately impressed and wondered what they were and how were they associated with a web page. Some sleuthing revealed them to be Favicons, short for Favorite icon.

A good source for learning how to change the appearance and functionality of a web page, especially in Blogger, is Anniebluesky at BlogU. Annie has an excellent tutorial for favicons on this page. She includes a link to a web site that will convert a user-supplied image into a favicon-ready icon. It's a pretty slick trick and you should try it with a favorite photo or picture.

I, as usual, wanted a unique symbol for my blog. I found a perfect image of a plant leaf but soon saw it on several sites and knew that I would never be happy sharing it, no matter how appropriate it would be. Favicons are fairly small images, 16x16 pixels, which eliminated anything complex or too busy. It took a bit of fat chewing before I came up with this image:

It's the logo used by the first nursery I worked at, Sunnyside Nuseries. It was owned by a Japanese family and was one of the first nurseries to grow and market potted plants to large retailing chains and big box stores. I started there as a "water boy" during the tail end of the House Plant Revolution of the '70s, when the plant world seemed endlessly open, and eventually worked my way into plant breeding. I was introduced to Japanese culture during my time with them and treasure the afternoon I spent pollinating Cyclamen with the owner while he told me some of his life story, including being in an internment camp during World War II. Sunnyside is no longer an entity, retiring from the business years ago, but I wanted to pay my respect and use it as a homage to the Yoshida family.

Spring

2007-03-21T06:30:00.000-05:00

Gravel wash at the end of the horse run, where the runoff creek joins the big creek in the background.

Let's see what we have here:

A foot of snow last Saturday - check.
Snow again on Monday and Tuesday - check.
Below zero temperature this morning - check.

It must be Spring in New York.

New York is the new North Pole. What global warming. On the 4th of July let's go skiing. Jokes have been circulating on the general topic of this lingering winter but the faces telling them are growing tauter. Quite a change when December and early January were promising a year of little snow, balmy days, and no white in Christmas.

It was in the 60's a week ago, with rain quickly eroding the berms of snow. Patches of turf were emerging and the trees were shimmying out of their slips of white. Robins were back and a mob of red-winged blackbirds were out-hustling the Jays at the feeder. The angle of the sun is greater and its light more intense. The blues of the sky have been amazing, approaching royal in color, with clarity as if filtered through diatomaceous earth.

Spring is here, it's just taking a bit more time than usual. I am learning greater patience and will try very hard not to be envious as gardeners in the rest of the nation are growing into the new season.

Seed Buying - Method or Madness

2007-03-17T07:34:00.000-05:00

Tools of the trade.
The tweezers are more often used for seed cleaning instead of sowing.

Meme (definition from Wikipedia):

a "unit of cultural information" which can propagate from one mind to another in a manner analogous to genes

Borrowed from biology, meme is a topic or idea that is presented for discussion and expansion. Similar to chain letters of old but without the evil predictions when the chain is broken, memes are often used by bloggers, especially gardening bloggers.

Way back on January first, May Dreams Gardens had an intriguing post regarding gardeners' relationships with their seeds. A series of questions were posted for answering and even though I'm months behind, I thought I would answer them.

What Kind of a seed buyer are you?

Do you carefully read all of the seed catalogs sent to you and then browse the Internet to compare and contrast all the options, then decide which seeds to buy?

Absolutely! I read everything sent to me, order more catalogs, and wish I had twice as many to peruse. And then I do it all over again on the Internet. Then it's on to making lists and endless revisions.

Do you buy seeds from 'bricks and mortar' stores and get whatever appeals to you as you are browsing?

Never from the racks at stores. The majority of seeds, as with bulbs, require specific storage conditions to retain optimal viability. Being stuck on display racks in high temperatures and/or humidity and wetness is not going to produce the best seeding result. Some seeds are resilient but many are fragile. I wonder if gardeners' lack of success from these rack purchases is discouraging them.

Do you buy vegetable seeds in bulk where they scoop them out of seed bins, weigh them and put them in hand-marked envelopes?

Not in bulk. A conscious decision was made to not make the vegetable garden too big (but this year's will probably be bigger). A lot of trialing is going on, trying to find the best kinds of vegetables and specific varieties that will thrive in our area. Once a variety is discovered that really likes to grow here and is a bountiful producer, the issue regarding bulk buying may change.

Do you buy seeds for just vegetables, or just annual flowers? Do you buy seeds for perennial flowers?

All of those plus trees, shrubs, bulbs, and grasses. There is too much variety out there to be that self-limiting.

Do you know what stratification and scarification are? Have you done either or both with seeds?

Yes to all of the above. Another type of seed treatment, it may be included under scarification, are seeds that require fire to germinate. In earlier days, dried grasses and other small flammables would be placed on top of the germination bed and lit, hoping to recreate the condition of a natural wildfire. Technology has improved on that, thanks to Kirstenbosch Botanical garden in South Africa where they've developed a product called Liquid Smoke. Small disks of paper have been impregnated with chemicals that simulate the conditions of a fire. Seeds and Liquid Smoke disks are soaked in water overnight and then sown. It works and has been a boon to germinating many impossible and difficult seeds.

Do you order seeds from more than one seed company to save on shipping or buy from whoever has the seeds you want, even if it means paying nearly the same for shipping as you do for the actual seeds?

My ranked priorities are:

The type of plant and variety.
A seed company with a reputation for excellent germination.
Pricing and shipping costs.

My buying decision is always based on the first and especially the second. I won't buy from a few major sellers - Thompson and Morgan comes to mind - because of poor germination. Beautiful pictures, glossy pages, and non-sprouting seeds do not make a good combination. Other companies are dropped if seeds germinate that are not true-to-type or are completely different in color or variety than ordered.

Money is always a factor and varieties are ranked by importance from must-haves to I-wish-had-its. Having a wish list is a good thing. It keeps interest up and is another element to looking forward to future gardening seasons.

Do you buy more seeds than you could ever sow in one season?

Very guilty on that but I'm doing better. Take last year. I have one large bed in the front that is planted out in annuals every year. Last year I came up with a planting scheme using seeds bought in previous years and a few were seeds I collected. It was a wonderful and colorful bed, combining beauty and thriftiness for a showy display.

Do you only buy seeds to direct sow into the garden or do you end up with flats of seedlings in any window of the house with decent light?

Some vegetable seeds are direct sown: radish, beets, beans, and peas. But most of the vegetables and all the flowers are sown in trays or cells for transplanting into the garden. Vegetable seeds have the best spots in the windows, which is only fair because so many of them are started early.

Broadcast sowing has not been effective. Field weeds and wildflowers germinate and grow much quicker than the garden plants and would crowd out seedlings before they had the size to compete with them. I'm surrounded by large fields that contribute a vast quantity of seeds to every spot of soil, making life difficult for large plants, let alone seedlings.

My frost period runs through Memorial Day so flowers are usually sown during the first week in May for transplanting in early June. I won't have color until July but make up for it by having extended and abundant color throughout late summer and, if the goddess is willing, early fall.

Do you save your own seeds from year to year and exchange them with other seed savers?

I do save seeds from some plants, especially the early bloomers: Aquilegias, Alliums, Arisaemas (for the first time last year!), and other perennials if I notice ripening seeds. I haven't found mature seeds on the annuals but did save them when I had a longer growing season. My usual method is to not deadhead the plants and then dig up the seedlings when I find them. Their randomness gives the garden a casual look and, even though the garden is an artificial construct, makes for a more "natural" setting. I reap the rewards of additional plants without the fuss of tending to seedlings.

I do not exchange seeds because I have doubts about their quality and plants being true-to-type. I'm successful with what I am currently doing - growing scads of Aquilegia 'William Guinness', for instance - and don't want to sully it with unknown genotypes.

Do you even buy seeds?

Yes. Sometimes it is necessary because seed has been used up and other times because of old seed that has proven to have poor germination. And sometimes it's just because - it's always nice to dream.

Do you have a fear of seeds? Some gardeners don't try seeds, why not?

A resounding NO! I think fear of the unknown and not wanting to take a chance on a bad result are two of the primary reasons for gardeners not trying to grow from seed. I would give those folks packets of Marigolds, Corn, and Sunflowers to persuade them to try seeds.

My Mom and Grandmother were avid sowers and growers and I learned from watching them. I think some of the current generations have lost something when they don't have an example to learn from in their lives.

Do you understand seeds? I once bought seeds at a Walmart in January (Burpee Seeds) and the cashier asked me, "Do these really work? Yes, they do. "Isn't it too cold to plant them now?" Well, yes, if you are planning to plant them outside. I don't think this cashier grew up around anyone who gardened.

More than most people and yet my knowledge is pitiful when I think back to my old co-workers in Seed Physiology, Seed Health, Seed Pathology, and the Seed Lab, among other departments. All of them had extremely bright people in them, working on concepts and ideas that would startle most gardeners.

Do you list all your seeds on a spreadsheet, so you can sort the list by when you should sow them so you have a master seed plan of sorts?

I have to qualify this with a no and yes. No, I don't start out with a spreadsheet. I sort the seeds in order of sowing, basing the timing on when I want to plant them out, usually the first or second week in June. And then it's a matter of counting in weeks to figure out the sow dates. For instance, Onions and then the Tomato/Pepper/Eggplant group are sown 10 to 8 weeks out and the others are sown depending on how quickly they grow and available space for handling them.

I usually make a spreadsheet after the work is done to keep a yearly log, noting what is working or not working and refining the varieties that are sown. And, as always, to track poor germination.

Do you keep all the old seeds and seed packets from year to year, scattered about in various drawers, boxes, and baskets?

No. If they are scattered about I will never find them and won't remember to sow them. All seeds are kept in the basement (for the cooler temperatures) in a small Igloo cooler and, when that is full, in sealable jars. Mice have sometimes been a problem so tight lids are absolutely necessary.

seed containers or leftovers from a pill popping party, you decide

I have a huge stash of glassine and paper envelopes along with small plastic vials and have been known to re-pack seeds so I can fit more in the cooler

Seed storage and handling are very important if seeds are to remain in optimal health. 40 to 41F degrees are the ideal temperatures for storage and I used to keep all of mine in a refrigerator. There isn't a sense of urgency nowadays, so the basement has been satisfactory.

Do you determine germination percentage for old seed?

Yes but not by conducting tests with moist toweling. I do it by sowing and observing the results. I pretty much know at this point how long most seeds take to germinate and will resow or make a substitution if nothing or very few come up. I will also know how fresh the seed is and where it originated, factoring that in for future purchases and if I want to continue dealing with a particular company.

I'm always hoping for 90-100 percent germ on annuals and vegetables but am really happy with 80 percent or more. My expectations for perennials, trees, shrubs, etc is much lower as those plants may have a genetic predisposition for staggered germination as a survival mechanism. It can take 2 or more years for some bulb seeds to germinate.

I feel like I'm repeating myself but how seeds are handled and stored are very important to retaining good germination. But seeds do have a shelf-life, even under the most optimal conditions. Pansy and Impatiens seeds are very short-lived, a year at best, and then their germination rates go down rapidly, while others, such as Zinnias, can stay viable for years.

Narcissus Pictures

2007-03-14T18:40:00.000-05:00

Narcissus 'Hawera' - miniatures division
Blooms are small but their sheer numbers create an absolute froth of flowers. I've always found light yellow to be one of the most appealing garden colors and 'Hawera' provides it in abundance.

We've been glorying in the mid fifties (62 today) that have been lulling us into thinking spring has finally arrived. Was it really only last Friday that -12 degrees greeted us in the morning? It already seems long ago but the specter of cold is never too far and winter is sure to drop a few more snow flurries and sleet storms, even a nor'easter, before we leave winter behind. We can't help but luxuriate in the current warmth and feel unencumbered but naked without our hats and mittens.

Not much to report but I did hear a Red-winged Blackbird this morning, a sure sign of spring in these parts. Here are a few pictures that will always remind me of spring no matter where I'm living. Like in my March Header post, all of these daffodils were grown in nursery containers.

Narcissus 'Manly' - doubles division

Absolutely huge double flowers that command attention. I'm not loving some of the newest double varieties wherein the trumpet is mult-petaled and prefer ones with multiple perianths like 'Manly'. Also in the picture is 'Bridal Crown', an older variety with double flowers. I won't be growing 'Bridal Crown' again as the petals never fully unfurled and the color was dull, dirty, and indistinct.

Narcissus 'Thalia' - triandrus division

Late flowering, pristine white, always 2 or more flowers per stem, and hardy in zones 4-9 are why this variety is my favorite of all daffodils.

Header Tutorial

2007-03-02T08:00:00.000-05:00

I was never satisfied with the stock writing and pictures for headers that come with most blog templates. There are a millions, if not jillions, of blogs out there and I decided to create my own headers to differentiate myself and stand away from the crowd. Interesting photographs of my area, gardens, and what is going on in my life were what I wanted to incorporate into my design. But I also wanted continuity and a sense of familiarity to be part of it too. The results are what you see every time you visit. I’ve added variety by changing them monthly and keeping them seasonal in subject. I have a lot of fun creating them and want to share them with you.

I use a graphic editing program that supports layers to create my headers. Supporting layers is the key. If you are familiar with glass painting, where layers of paint are built up to create an image on the reverse side, then you will begin to understand the usefulness of layers when creating an image. I use Photoshop Elements 1.x because I am familiar with its capabilities and it was the bundled software that came with my scanner. PS Elements has gone through many iterations, currently at 5.x, since I purchased mine but it is adequate for the work I want to achieve and my ability level. Any image-editing program that supports layers will work.

The other reason I like to use PSE is because of its proprietary format for saving files, using the file extension PSD. This file format, like RAW, TIFF, and others, saves files with no or little loss in image quality. This is very useful when creating images and allows a great deal of manipulation. The files created are large so I convert them to condensed files like JPEG, GIF, ICO (for icons), or PNG (the new Vista standard for icons) when I am finished and ready to upload them to the Internet. Other programs will also do file conversions but I have found PSE to be the best for me in retaining the sharpness of the original.

Thanks to Kathy for suggesting this post a long time ago. I had no inkling it would take such a long time to write plus make the screen captures.

This tutorial is going to be long and very graphic intensive so another window will open after you Click Here To Go To Header Tutorial..

March Header

2007-03-01T05:00:00.000-05:00

March is the beginning of Spring in many parts of the U.S. Areas in the South and West are reaching their last frost dates and gardeners everywhere are thinking of planting and growing again. Daffodils are one of the first of the spring bulbs to bloom and we've always grown them. Long-lived and wildlife resistant, Daffodils, oops Narcissus, have had a place in all our gardens.

The variety in the picture is 'February Gold', part of the cyclamineus section of Narcissus. Named cyclamineus in part because the petals are slightly swept back suggesting their namesakes, this section has always been the first of the Daffodils to flower for us. This picture was taken during the third week of January when we grew them in Watsonville but we won't see them until the end of April in New York. To work up a little plant envy, Paperwhites bloom in November in the Bay Area. Although you can't tell from the picture, these flowers are growing in gallon pots set close together. I had to contort my position quite a lot to keep the pots from showing in the picture.

Op-Ed from Amy Stewart

2007-02-27T06:00:00.000-05:00

The following is an Op-Ed piece by Amy Stewart that was published in the New York Times on February 14, 2007. Amy writes a gardening/chicken blog, Dirt, and is a founder and contributer of Garden Rant blog.

Local Color

If a city is an ecosystem, the flower shop is perhaps its most vital and endangered habitat. In the last 15 years, the number of florists in the United States declined 17 percent. In 1992, there was a florist for every 9,300 Americans; now florists must serve, on average, more than 12,000 people each — if they serve them at all. Half of cut flower purchases are made at supermarkets now, and less than a third of American households buy flowers in a year. It’s no wonder that third-generation florists are closing their doors. But if flower shops go extinct, what have we lost?

The urban florist is a fairly recent invention. In 1864, this newspaper observed that “a few years ago, the business of selling out flowers and bouquets was confined to one or two peripatetic vendors of cheap trash; now we mention it as evidence of growing taste.” The florists of Broadway, the account continued, filled their shop windows with “a profusion of costly exotics.” Flowers were no longer a crop to be sold out of the back of a greenhouse or from a street cart; they had become horticultural jewels, and florists earned their place alongside the city’s other luxury shops.

Since then, flower shops have been green spots of nature in the city. They mark the change of the seasons, even in this age of global commerce when roses come from Ecuador and orchids from Thailand and peonies from New Zealand. Gnarled branches of cherry blossoms emerge in shop windows in March, followed by a show of lilac so short that it will make even the most harried city dweller’s heart ache for the brevity of spring.

Sunflowers spill onto the sidewalks in summer, attracting honeybees from hidden rooftop hives. And in the middle of a winter snowstorm, nothing is as gloriously alive as the inside of a flower shop, with its chrysanthemums and tulips as bright as flames.

Florists don’t just celebrate nature; they celebrate us as well. New York City alone sees 169 marriages a day, 340 births and 157 deaths. Florists understand what it is that we cannot quite bring ourselves to say at these moments; they wrap up a few dozen delicate, ephemeral blossoms and rush them across town to do the job for us.

A florist in Hattiesburg, Miss., who just closed his family’s shop after over a century in business, remembered that drunks would sometimes wake his father up in the middle of the night, demanding flowers so their wives would let them come home. Without a florist to finesse our clumsy emotional transactions, we might all be sleeping on the stoop.

But today florists are grappling with the same problems faced by other specialty stores. Supermarket chains, discount clubs and Internet retailers use their buying power to purchase directly from growers, selling bouquets at prices that can be lower than what mom-and-pop florists pay at wholesale. We’ve bought into the myth that flowers are too expensive, sacrificing the sensual delights and emotional comforts of the flower shop along the way.

In fact, it is surprising how affordable flowers really are: 120 years ago, the best roses sold in New York for $18 a dozen, and arrangements went for $40 or $50 — this at a time when hotel rooms rented for $5. Today a bouquet costs about the same as it did then, but $5 won’t cover cab fare to a hotel, much less a room for the night.

It’s puzzling to florists that their wares, those exquisite purple lilies and sweet heavenly freesias, must be sold at bargain-basement prices to get anyone’s attention. A dozen roses, a florist will remind you, still cost less — and last longer — than a dinner out, a night at the theater or a bottle of good Champagne.

This is the challenge facing florists: they must hold the attention of the distracted shopper rushing past on the street. They have to convince us to choose irises over iPods, magnolias over Manolos. This is especially critical every Feb. 14, when they hope to earn about a third of their annual revenue in one day.

I once sat in a florist’s workroom on Valentine’s Day, and I listened as desperate husbands and lovesick suitors called seeking the calm, good-natured help of a stranger who understood what was at stake. You can place your heart into the hands of a florist. Flower shops remind us who we are — fragile, transitory creatures, not nearly as tough as our suits and our briefcases make us look. They call our attention to the passing of spring, and to the fullness of love. Every city needs that.

More Turkey Talk

2007-02-26T17:10:00.000-05:00

The turkeys are still with us, well some of them are. Beth was lucky to find them walking in a line a couple of days ago and counted 11 of them. The group has broken up but four of them are still with us. I don’t know what the social interactions are with turkeys and if associations and partings are common behavior, especially in winter. Perhaps it’s as simple and complicated as available shelter, water, and food.

There are many trees for sheltering and the birds have selected trees in a protected area by the big creek in back for roosting areas. They start heading for the trees about two hours before sundown, seeking perching places in the high branches. They look like tailless tadpoles in the trees and usually face into a prevailing wind. Water is available in the creek at the base of the trees. The creek is shallow but has never completely iced over. Some areas of the creek become constricted, forcing water through narrow banks. The creek bed is heavily lined with gravel and liberally strewn with rocks, creating a miniature flume of rushing water.

Turkeys spend most of their time on the ground, like pheasants, quail, and grouse, searching for food. In addition to all of our burdock, we have seen them eating the brilliantly colored fruit of Sumac (Rhus typhina). The fruits are on the tips of the branches, about ten feet from the ground, and it is amusing to see a daredevilish large bird among them. Some of the birds will peck at the “harvester’s” feet, to force him out of the way or encourage quicker work I’m not sure. The rest will be on the ground, gleaning the tailings of another’s effort.

Three of the turkeys found the suet and bird feeders up by the house. They were unable to make the connection between the feeders set up high to the edible morsels on the ground but seemed to greatly enjoy their troves. We flushed them away, incidentally of course, and as they flew away to safety heard them make a quiet 2-note call of alarm and warning. It wasn’t a sound I would have associated with large birds and probably never would have connected it to a turkey if I hadn’t heard it myself.

Turkey Week

2007-02-22T18:04:00.000-05:00

turkey in the dog run

A small flock of turkeys is visiting. Numbering about seven birds, they usually visit us for a short period of time each winter. I first noticed them two days ago as large dark blobs down by the big creek. The dark blotches looked too regular to be rocks or stumps so I aimed binoculars on them and they focused into “our” turkeys.

“Our” is figurative, of course, as there is no way to determine if they are the same group as before and we certainly don’t own them. Unlike domestic turkeys, which are renown for their stupidity and lack of good sense, wild turkeys are interesting to observe. One member is posted as the lookout, usually in an elevated position, while the rest of the birds seek for food on the ground. They search for seeds, usually burdock at this time of year, and methodically cover large areas in their quest. One adventurous chap (or chip!) came all the way up to the house and was seen pecking at tufts of exposed lawn grasses by the deck. I didn’t know they grazed but surmise anything that is green and herby has appeal during the winter

Besides gobbling, which I have only heard in the spring, turkeys have a range of vocalizations. I startled the group when I found them in the front half of the horse run, up by the road. The lookout gave a quiet 2-note call but they all heeded it. They moved away from me in an unhurried yet wary manner, gauging their response to my closeness and actions. I am speculating when I say warning calls may vary in type and volume depending on an internal threat index but that is how it seemed. In other seasons I hear turkeys making one-note calls on the hillsides but rarely see them.

I don't know if this group is habituated to humans but they seem unusually brave to be out and about, almost brazen, and certainly unfrightened in their behavior. Many people shoot or trap animals around us, essays for other days, so I don't know why the turkeys are being so open. I think their presence, besides giving us pleasure and a source of amusement, is indicative of a healthy environment. These are some of the native animals, parts of the natural fauna that are supposed to be here, and I'm glad they are.

Blowing in the wind

2007-02-20T17:00:00.000-05:00

California Dreamin'? Nah!

We finally dug ourselves out, mostly, and enjoyed the beautful and bountiful snow from last week. I'm cheating with this picture from several years ago, as the snow is much higher than this. But it does give a glimpse of something I always try to do when I'm clearing snow, making annexes to the main cleared areas. They're usually made to aid the dogs and clear out some play areas. I haven't been able to make my usual broad areas and have made small aisles for accessing the bird feeder and suet feeder. We have a small deck on the back of the house and I always blow the snow away after we push it off so this will be the dogs' new play area. We blew through 5 gallons of gas so fast it was scary, but absolutely necessary. I'm still haunted by our first winter here when I was unable to keep up with hand shoveling the snow away. And who knew I would be prescient, for once, and bought a new auger belt for the snow blower a few weeks ago, especially when it seemed the snows would never be coming.

Aisle leading to the bird feeder.
A bird bath in front of the big grass is buried

Snow Jobbed

2007-02-18T04:39:00.000-05:00

Well I did it again and posted to Cold Climate Gardening.

Check out Snow Days of Winter
and Kaleidoscope Skies

February Header

2007-02-01T05:20:00.000-05:00

A new month and a new header. This is a picture of the gate to an area we call the horse run, previously mentioned in this post. We call it the horse run because the previous owners fenced it in, providing additional grazing for their horse. It bisects two fallow corn fields and is bordered with trees on each of the long sides. The road is to the immediate left and the runoff creek is behind the photographer, running parallel to the run. There is a gravel wash at the far end several hundred feet away, allowing creek access for watering the livestock.

This has become one of our favorite areas for visiting and walking, although we didn't realize its potential our first few years here. We were still overwhelmed by the spaces encompassing us and finding a balance to living here and it wasn't an area that received much focus. We recognized its beauty after a neighbor brush-hogged it and have been keeping it mowed ever since. Unlike the mowed meadow around our house, the turf in the run is mostly grass, creating a park-like setting. With the large trees protecting it and the creek running along its flank, it is a special place for birding and exploring.

Click 'read more' to see the full picture.

horse run gate in winter

I like when the gate poles are crowned with spheres of snow. I don't know why they are uneven in length but it makes for a more interesting visual. The shorter post is covered with Parthenocissus quinquifolia (Virginia creeper), providing brilliant red fall color and another contrasting element. Two Larix (Larch) are visible with an apple tree between them. I had a devil of a time cropping this into a header, as I wanted to include the gate but needed to eliminate too much of the picture's relevance.

Magical Morning

2007-01-25T17:55:00.000-05:00

I had no idea when I woke up this morning that I would be seeing the most beautiful morning of my life. It seduced and enthralled me, drawing me to experience a new wonder. I felt as Lucy must, as she traveled through C.S. Lewis' wardrobe into a new world. It is a cliché but it really was a winter wonderland.

I knew temperatures during the night had been in the low single digits and I expected a hoar frost coating on the trees. I was also aware that during the last few hours before dawn, the temps had risen to the low teens. Because our road and other features were obscured, I suspected it had been snowing but was unsure of how much had been received. The dogs were pushing me to attend to them so we ventured out before sunrise.

Willow by Pond - on another day in another place

I stepped out ~~of my wardrobe~~ the door, instantly bewitched. It had indeed snowed, only a couple of inches, but everything had been remade. Everywhere I looked the snow covering the mown areas was flat, smooth, and unblemished, like a finely iced cake. All of the shrubs, trees, and other plants had their surfaces encrusted, as if the frost had adhered the flakes to them. Snow was still falling but lightly, in medium flakes, like small squares of cellophane than water transformed.

Enough to see by but not enough for sharp detail, the light made a dreamy world of black and white. I was being mesmerized, knew it, and wanted more. Plants and areas I encounter daily with shallow inspection became valued objects to be studied and adored. I couldn't get enough, as each step the vignette changed and insisted on my appreciating it. I felt lifted beyond an ordinary experience, visiting another realm.

The dogs were indifferent, no surprise there, wanting to be inside again for breakfast. The world changed when the sun came up and color was restored. Branches began losing their white coats, creating small puffs as they spooched on the ground. A light breeze began, exposing more bark and my familiar world was coming back. Although still gorgeous, the aching beauty was gone but it still haunts me.

More Uncommon Weather

2007-01-18T08:11:00.000-05:00

In an addendum to yesterday's post, more news about uncommon weather.

Unseasonable cold.
From the San Francisco Chronicle: Snow and cold weather in the hills north of Los Angeles and east of Malibu here.

Unseasonable warm.
From Yahoo: Warm and mild weather in Europe and Russia here.

Ice Storm in January

2007-01-17T05:30:00.000-05:00

doppler radar image from Monday

The ice storm hit the U.S. hard, in a broad swath from Texas in the southwest to Maine in the northeast. As of today, the statistics are grim: 55 people dead in 9 states and 300,000 still without electricity. The storm had been predicted and warnings were posted but some things are out of our control. Tree limbs fell, no longer able to support the one-inch casing of ice building on them, causing many of the outages and falling on buildings. Overhead wires and supporting poles, unable to hold up under the growing load, leaned and buckled. The only saving grace was it happened on a holiday, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and fewer people were on the road than a typical Monday.

My local area was little affected and we feel very lucky to have dodged a bullet. We had a variety of precipitation, combining rain, sleet, snow, and rain into a layered sandwich but none or little of the ice build-up of freezing rain. Counties north of Albany were encased in ice and continue to have problems, as are many areas of the country.

So why did this happen? Most people are blaming global warming but there is a primary cause for this particular storm: El Niño.

satellite image from Monday

What is El Niño and what causes it? From the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA):

El Niño results from interaction between the surface layers of the ocean and the overlying atmosphere in the tropical Pacific. It is the internal dynamics of the coupled ocean-atmosphere system that determine the onset and termination of El Niño events. The physical processes are complicated, but they involve unstable air-sea interaction and planetary scale oceanic waves. The system oscillates between warm (El Niño) to neutral (or cold) conditions with a natural periodicity of roughly 3-4 years.

The size and location of the large pool of warm water called El Niño varies from year to year. California typically receives 18-20 inches of rain in a year, most of it in the winter. Storms out of Alaska bathe the coast and drop snow in the Sierras. When El Niño is large and in a northern area, it drives the storms north and away from the state, setting up drought conditions. The size and location of El Niño has a significant effect on winter weather in California.

The picture above shows clouds streaming from the Southwest to the Northeast. If you track back from the U.S. through Mexico and into the Pacific Ocean, the origin would be pointing to El Niño. I don't know if global warming is a cause or contributor, but I never expected El Niño to influence weather in New York and the East.

Our dog Ruthie

2007-01-11T11:02:00.000-05:00

Thanks everyone for reading and responding to the posts. I will most likely address them in the future because I think the ideas and topics can be expanded but I'm feeling down and depressed today. My wife and I had to euthanize a beloved pet yesterday. I wrote about her on my other blog and decided to cross-post to here.

Beth's favorite picture of Ruthie

We put our dog Ruthie down today. There are other euphemisms for death: putting to sleep, no longer with us, gone to heaven, the suffering is over, and euthanize are some of them. I would have given up a great deal in my life to never have to face this day and to keep myself from using any of these words.

I've owned a lot of dogs in my life and known many more. Some of these dogs have been whip smart and others not the brightest bulb in a room of one. Some have been outgoing and friendly while others needed to have their trust earned. I've known ones that were great play mates and others content to be loving companions. Some have been big and some have been small and many have been medium. Some have been clowns and others have had a dignified air. Some have been great pains in the arses and others have been capable and helpful.

Ruthie has been the most unique dog I have ever known. I don't know if I will ever have the language or the words to describe to you in a way that will convince you of this but I am inalterably set in my conviction of it. My sister described her as sweet and that is part of her essence. I will probably write more about Ruthie in future posts, but I don't have the heart for it just now.

Theologians and other religious scholars have been endlessly debating whether animals have souls. Most reject the notion, trying, I think, to reserve a special divinity for humans and separate us from animals. Every dog and cat I have lived with and known has had a personality that helps to distinguish and identify them as individuals. And when they die, the special little spark that animated the body is gone, never to be realized in my lifetime again. It is this fact of an individual personality that convinces me that animals have souls. It is a Jewish tradition to light a candle at sundown to honor the deceased and on the anniversaries of their death. We will light a candle tonight and in future years but they aren't necessary to remember Ruthie.

Ruthie, Mochie, and us way back in Watsonville. It took many months for Ruthie to look at or warm up to me but eventually she did.

Beth and Ruthie with my nephew Hunter and niece Alena when we lived in Watsonville

Mochie and Ruthie. We found the perfect companion for Ruthie when we adopted Mochie. There was never a time when they squabbled or even growled at each other.

Mochie and Ruthie basking in a slant of sunshine in our dining room in New York.

Beth enjoying the fresh air with the dogs. There was an instant establishment of a special bond between Beth and Ruthie during the moments they first met. Ruthie always kept herself in close proximity to Beth, almost annoyingly so at times, making Beth the center of her universe.

my favorite picture of Ruthie

Seed info on Cold Climate Gardening

2007-01-09T04:22:00.000-05:00

I sometimes guest post on Cold Climate Gardening blog. I posted "Seed info" today, so please check it out.

You Have a What?

2007-01-07T06:42:00.000-05:00

This cute bird, a little Carolina Wren sitting on a teasel, accompanied an article this week in the New York Times. The focus of the article was how the birds and wildlife on the author's property have increased and flourished as the landscape design has been relaxed and changed, allowing for a less artificial scheme. More of the native plants and their human-seen "messy" environments like brush piles have been expanded and encouraged, providing food, homes, and safety to many animals that weren't previously common. I liked the focus of the article and hope it influences every gardener to allow some of the natural world into their lives.

But, and there always seems to be a but with me, the very first sentence rubbed me the wrong way. " A few years ago, when I first glimpsed the azure wing of a bluebird in the hedgerow that borders my meadow..." I grew up and lived in suburbia most of my life. A privacy fenced backyard of 20 by 30 feet was considered large and had to contain areas of many uses, most of them kid-centric, meaning a large expanse of grass so children can wear themselves out playing and inventing games. There was little enough room for a flowerbed plus a decent sized vegetable garden to even consider a "hedgerow" or a "meadow". They are nice and desirable concepts but are not attainable by most Americans, the majority who live in cities and suburbia.

I read it as a subtle form of classism and it still rankles me. I shouldn't let it bother me and will soon get over it but I'm often struck how people can be unaware of how most other people live their lives. We tend to think that most people live lives similar to our own but that's not true. Our interests, motivations, relationships, and how we see our place in the world are vastly different, even when we live next door to each other.

Another part of me acknowledges that a good deal of my reaction is jealousy. I never imagined that I would some day also have a hedgerow and a meadow of my own. I deeply treasure that the flukes and capriciousness of my life, there was certainly no master plan or design involved, have brought me to my current state. I think my appreciation for my current ecological riches is vastly different than my neighbors' because of my background.

Record Temps for Winter

2007-01-07T04:40:00.000-05:00

big snow at the barn in '03

Unending sources of conversation with folks (my family, maybe) not living in my area are my temperatures and, more specifically, winter temperatures and how cold can it go here. I have acclimated enough that, unless it slides below zero degrees, I am almost indifferent to the cold. Sure, sometimes it can be uncomfortable, depending on the speed and direction of the winds, but with the right clothing and boots, it is easily tolerable and many times enjoyable.

Last winter still sticks in my mind because of its relative mildness, especially when compared with our previous winters here. Our first winter, back in 2002-03, is remembered as the snowy winter. The snows started early that year, keeping the ground covered throughout November and staying that way through March. We had record snowfall on Christmas day of around three feet and followed that a week later with another two and a half feet. We didn't have a snow blower at that time and relied on a local man to plow our driveways at the house and barn. He was inexpensive enough but we only used him when snowfall or windblown snow overwhelmed my efforts to keep the areas cleared with a hand shovel. Our driveway is about 130 feet long with another 40 plus feet at the barn.

Our plower might have been inexperienced or overwhelmed with the quantity of snow that year and left some peculiar mounds of snow in awkward and very inconvenient areas (like right outside our garage door!) The entry door set into our garage is our most common way of entering and leaving the house and I had to shovel daily to keep this area passable. This wasn't always easy because the mound of snow was compressed by the plow and was virtually impervious to my shoveling, acting as a giant untouchable rock.

The same situation was also at the barn where another "brotherly" mound of snow was left right next to the doorway. Two problems with that. The barn doors slide open and one mound of snow was preventing the door from opening and, because we store our vehicles in the barn during the winter, we couldn't back the truck out. Our barn doors are set perpendicular to the road and the driveway is one continuous curve. Our truck is over 21 feet long and when backed out needs a bit more room past the plane of the doorway to successfully clear the snow. Space for clearance wasn't left so we had to hand shovel the imposing mound. It was over our heads, of very hard and compacted snow, and we re-enacted Donner Party members shoveling our way to freedom. If you think of it as a giant hard snowball you will understand what we faced. But we persevered and were finally able to free up some space.

All of this snow removal, moving, and work has colored the way I think of winter here. I fully expect every winter and each storm to be like our first ones and have adapted my snow removal to it. We got a snow blower before the next winter began and I spent, and continue to spend, an enormous amount of time keeping all areas well-groomed and cleared so our lives and activities can continue without hindrance.

Our second winter, during 2003-04, began with a Nor'easter storm in early December, dumping on us with about two and a half feet of snow. And that was pretty much it for snowfall that winter. It was cold enough to always have it around and was replenished by lake-effect snow flurries but no other storms of significance. Temperatures seemed about average, no warm melt days but also no bone-jarring cold periods.

Our third winter, 2004-05, is remembered for its cold. There was a two week period in January of constant -20 degree nights and days often under zero. Neither the dogs nor us stayed outside very long during this time. It was odd starting the truck and hearing the fuel pump until it was very well warmed up, miles later. A small flock of turkeys visited us during this cold period. We sometimes hear turkeys but don't often see them, so this was a novel experience. The turkeys spent their time with us down by the slightly more protected area of the big creek. They pecked for food through the burdock seed heads and roosting in the trees when they weren't eating. We were still locked in our cold front throughout March. It was frustrating knowing the jet stream was blocking warmer air in Pennsylvania (it was in the 60s!) from reaching us.

Last year, 2005-06, I remember as the mild winter. There wasn't much snow, with only a couple of storms laying down a foot or less of powder each time. Several warm periods in December, January, and February melted all of the snow and it looked odd to see bare ground without snow during those months. It was so warm, in fact, that in February a Great Blue Heron was wading in the little run0ff creek. It's still too weird to think about.

I have always been a more than avid weather watcher. My work at plant nurseries and commuting by bicycle for 14 years have made me highly sensitized to temperatures, storms, and day lengths. I realized in early December that this winter was milder than our previous ones. But I thought it would be just an interlude before the arctic fronts from Canada would descend on us and embrace us for months on end. It hasn't happened this year and I don't know if it will. It has been a mind-boggling and incredibly mild winter: only one night has hit seven degrees and most nights the lowest it has been is in the low twenties. The days have been equally mild with most highs in the forties and high thirties.

The weather pattern doesn't seem ready to change and I can't tell if it will. What has made this winter incredibly easy for us - I still haven't fired up the snow blower and was able to dig in the soil yesterday - is putting an enormous stress on the native animals and plants. They are well adapted to the cold and have built their life cycles on it. Most mammals hibernate at set temperatures but they are awake this year and need food, which is not in great abundance. Why should it when most of the animals are normally sleeping during this time? A vicious cycle has started and the fall-out may be less animals, and certainly less vigorous animals, this year.

Plants seem ready to come out of dormancy. When the trees and shrubs go dormant, a lot of the energy they've made is stored in their roots. When temperatures and sunlight are right, the plants replenish their selves with that energy, the "rising sap" phenomenon. Will the plants use up too much of their stored energy or are they still waiting? I can't say but I do ponder what this out-of-ordinary weather is doing to them.

I shake my head at the recent headlines in the news regarding the uncommon warmness of this winter. It's funny how the different news sources are in synchronicity with the timing of their reports. I've been aware of the unusual winter for weeks and wonder why they haven't. Maybe they are too closed off from the natural world or have been pre-occupied with the political turmoil this year.

Normal highs in early January are in the 20's with the hope of reaching 30. Yesterday the high was 60.

New Year, New Header

2007-01-01T06:00:00.000-05:00

To bounce this blog into the New Year, I have decided to change the header graphic. This is a picture of a road just south of us. If you were driving, you would have just left the tiny hamlet of South Valley heading west and facing a slight incline. The road veers sharply left at the crest, past what I think is the finest stand of evergreens in the area. Predominantly Norway Spruce, the trees are large, shapely, and well-spaced. They are also the landmark guardians of a cemetary at their base. The hill on the right continues higher and is the ridgeline that separates our home nestled in its little valley from here. A light carpeting of snow during the night, a mostly cloudless morning, and little traffic on the roads made for picture-perfect conditions. Thanksgiving morning, 2002.

December Header

2006-12-25T06:00:00.000-05:00

When we first moved here, every road driven was a new experience. One day we decided to look for a local apple orchard and headed out on this road. Part of the enjoyment of living here is the opportunity for some fantastic vistas. And when we rounded a bend and the landscape opened up this is what we saw. A barn and horses backed by an expansive view across the Mohawk Valley and, on a clear day, the foothills of the Adirondacks. There isn't another setting for a picture like this near us but here. I knew I would be photographing it but thought it would look even better with snow. And then it happened and it was. Thanksgiving morning, 2002.

I originally created this header with a blue transparent strip and blue lettering but didn't like it as much as the final version.

Three Strange Days: Sunday

2006-11-01T07:00:00.000-05:00

It’s Sunday morning and here I am outside again with the dogs. It is softly quiet, especially after Saturday’s storm. It isn’t too cold, only in the 30s, but my hood is up out of habit. Not too far from the house I feel something touch my cheek. It’s too dark to see clearly so I turn around to face the house lights and can see little specks gently coming down, it’s snowing.

It must have just started, as there is none on the ground. The dogs are indifferent and oblivious to it. They are busy looking around to see what needs to be seen and reacquainting themselves to the smells of the world to bother with the insignificance of the snow. It speckles their fur and melts there but they don’t notice.

Snow had been forecasted and here it was. Lake Effect snow is caused by winds passing over the Great Lakes, picking up moisture from the warmer water and releasing it as snow downwind. This is often the type of snow we receive and has been forecasted for today. Weather maps are showing an unfamiliar pattern. Lake Ontario, to the west, is the usual origin of our snows but today's will be from further south, Lake Erie. The question is how much will we get. Meteorologists have pegged most of the snow will be falling north of us, in the lower hills leading to the Adirondacks. Rarely focusing on us, the forecasts can be wrong.

The pressure fronts from the rains yesterday often have strong winds following them and today is no exception. The winds increase their speed as the sun reveals more of the day. The snow in the flurries is driven in horizontal streams that barely accumulate. This is typical of our Lake Effect snow but it buries the cities closer to the Great Lakes. It’s the reason Syracuse usually wins the Golden Snowball award for snowiest city in New York.

It looks nasty outside as the winds howl, reaching velocities of 50 mph at times. But experience has shown it is mostly a show, the wind being more uncomfortable than the snow. The flakes are uncommonly big, probably from the warmer temperatures than are typical for winter. The warm ground is melting the snow and keeps it from accumulating. The sun comes out now and again, making for a weird pairing of snow and sunshine on a backdrop of green lawns.

The wood stove is full, bathing us in luxuriant heat. The views outside are entertaining us with their constant changes, the wind swirling around, sometimes chasing itself. Beth has filled the house with the aromas of butter, sugar, and spices while baking refreshments. We’re glad it’s not worse because we need go out later in the day. Our local historical association is sponsoring a talk on gravestones, appropriate because Halloween is on Tuesday.

I’m an inexperienced but improving winter driver. Roadways of snow and ice still make me anxious but today’s is easy, almost fun. The drive is a breeze and in a few minutes we arrive. Parking in front of what appears to be a prototypical New England white church, we arrive at the Roseboom Historical Association.

We are early, for once, and head on in. Beth made oatmeal raisin cookies and found a place for them on the already burgeoning dessert table. We reacquainted ourselves with old friends and introduced ourselves to new ones and settled down for a fascinating lecture on the history and sybolism of gravestones and markers in our area of the Northeast.

After the lecture we continued meeting and greeting everyone and eating too much, as usual. I couldn't help but be continually distracted with the views from the front windows. The novel perspective of a south-facing view down a valley surrounded by high and steep hills was too arresting to be ignored. Waves of snow flurries were showering the length of the valley, as irregular in their appearance as foggy wisps on humid days. An incredible sight I feel lucky to experience.

So there you have it, three days of tumultuous weather. This old saying has an undercurrent of truth in it: If you don't like the weather just wait, it will soon change.

Three Strange Days: Saturday

2006-11-01T06:00:00.000-05:00

We knew by early Friday that a storm would be coming in over the weekend. This storm had recently rushed through Texas and Louisiana, leaving flooding behind it. It had also dumped a sizeable amount of early snow in Colorado, with drivers unprepared for a winter-like storm so early in the season. The radar pictures showed an enormous mass covering the eastern part of the Midwest and upper south, heading towards the Mid-Atlantic States and us in the Northeast. We knew it was coming and waited for its arrival.

I woke up a little after midnight to the ping of raindrops hitting the window. Our window faces north and most storms don’t hit it but this one was. Bad sign. The storm was unrelenting, continuing for hours. Our house is fairly tight so we weren’t worried – ok, maybe a tad worried – about damage to it but this year has been exceptionally wet and another dumping of water would not be helping anyone.

It’s my chore to take the dogs out for first potty and they are usually ready at dawn. This morning was much darker than usual but the dogs’ expert timing was on display, amplified by their urgent need. Dressed with a slicker, boots, and hat, I was ready to plunge outside. I’m always curious to watch the dogs’ reactions when they first encounter changed weather. First snows, frosts, and rain always cause them to give a little gasp, gather themselves, and plunge forward, some - Ruthie and Mochie - more eager than others - Toby. Toby especially doesn’t like to walk on wet grass. Rocks, gravel, asphalt or streams are okay but not wet lawns.

Out the door we burst, a collection of legs, leashes, wet noses, and more. We lucked out, as the rain was relatively light, falling in a steady stream. It wasn’t the deluge I had expected and was grateful. The reality proved anti-climactic to my fears. The time outside was almost enjoyable, being neither too windy nor wet. But none of us lingered and we were soon inside getting toweled down and breaking our fasts.

We learned that places near us had received more than two inches and the forecast was continuing showers. The weather was not expected to improve so we decided to proceed with our morning outing of visiting the library and grocery shopping. I don’t know if the cause was the time of day or the weather, but there were few people on the road or in town. It’s funny how the lack of crowds can improve unpleasant or routine tasks. Rhetorical question: Can small villages and towns ever be considered crowded when the population for the entire county is less than 55,000 people?

We finished everything and noticed that the rain was letting up as we neared home, surprising us both. Unbelievably, a tear appeared in the clouds and a line of blue sky winked at us. We hurriedly put groceries away and took the dogs out, taking advantage of the moment of calm. Back inside we had the idea to explore the creeks before the rain machine revved up again.

We have two creeks. One flows through our valley collecting and moving the water from everybody’s property. We call this one the Big Creek though it is actually quite small and is more brook than creek. The other, called by us the Runoff Creek, is in a fold that drains a hillside and bisects our property as it rushes to join the Big Creek. This little creek is lined by old trees and a long but narrow meadow which itself is bordered by a line of trees. We call this area the Horse Run, after its previous occupant. The grass is kept mowed and it now looks like a park. It has become one of our favorite areas to visit, ideal for walking and exploring.

The Runoff Creek is easily observed where it passes under the road. The creek is normally a gentle rush of water moving artfully over and between nature-laid rocks. As our first stop, it was easy to see the color of the water, an opaque milk-stirred-in-coffee color. This always happens when the hillsides have become saturated, reaching their water-holding capacity and are shedding excess water. Pulled by gravity, the extra water races down the inclines, gathering soil, leaves, and any detritus that can be dislodged by the rains. During intense storms like Saturday’s, the water in the creek bed is a torrent of force driving to somewhere, approximating the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. We marveled at it.

When we first moved here there was a washout of gravel where the Runoff joined the Big Creek. Lower than the shallow banks, this broad layering of gravel made an easy entry to the Big Creek. The Runoff had pushed a line of gravel and stones across the Big Creek at this point, making for easy and fun crossings to gain the far hillside. We had no idea the Runoff Creek was a fickle and changeable creature until a thunderstorm two years ago. So much water was released in a 30-minute period that the little creek sculpted its delta anew. New rocks and gravel bars were birthed and our little creek was becoming unrecognizable.

This past June, a storm of great magnitude made all of the earlier changes seem like child’s play. Parked over us for two days, the deluge of water reworked the landscape. A great mass of gravel, rocks, and stone were deposited in the little delta, filling the old bed higher than its banks. The power of the water surge in the Big Creek removed all of our crossing stones and replaced them with a large pool of deep water. New banks were carved. Beaches were annihilated, moved, and reformed in new and unexpected areas. Old channels were straightened and new passages formed. The reworking of the landscape still amazes us.

The vigor of this Saturday’s storm energized the Runoff Creek. It was busily eating away at the piles of rock before it, moving and cutting through them and sluicing its way to the Big Creek. The rush of water is exciting and can be loud. By listening carefully, low notes can be heard under the noise, revealing the subsurface moving of stones. As in the past, we will explore the new beds when the water recedes, noting the changes, hunting for fossils, and discovering oddball rocks that can be uncommonly beautiful.

The spring-like rains continued for most of the day, a mix of showers and drizzle. After the early torrents, the calm was welcome. This gave us a chance to regroup and take stock before tomorrow’s wintry mix.

Three Strange Days: Friday

2006-11-01T05:43:00.000-05:00

The three days of this past weekend were strange indeed. Each day represented a season and ran through time in reverse. I thought of making one posting of what happened but realized the distinctive difference of each required separate postings.

I watch and follow weather news with uncommon zeal. It is a necessary habit for a nurseryman to track weather patterns and trends and how they will affect the immediate surroundings. From the information gathered, plans are made, precautions primed, preparations instituted and actions taken. I knew a storm would be coming during the weekend and tried to think what needed to be done before it arrived.

Number one on my to-do list was fixing the dog enclosure. But before I get to that, let me explain what the dog enclosure is and how we got it. When we moved here, our house was surrounded on two sides by cornfields. Our three dogs never had as much room to run and explore as when we moved here. We vicariously enjoyed the freedom they had and the joy they expressed in living and running, of being.

They are pretty good dogs for the most part. They’re not vicious or mean but are endlessly curious. If a scent needs investigating or they see something, no amount of calling, waving, future threats on their sleeping arrangements or warnings of food withholding will keep them from their chase. It is maddening and frustrating that they do it but we let them get away with it. We don’t want them to act like that but have not trained them to be anything else.

Most rural areas in the country do not have dog ordinances. Dogs are allowed to do what they please within a few parameters: no chasing wildlife (mostly deer and other game animals), no harassing livestock, and no threatening humans. A dog may be shot dead for the first two and written up for the third as a vicious dog. A dog warden can make the determination of removal from the owner, depending on the incident. You’ll notice in each of these cases that action is taken only after something has happened. We wanted to be pro-active and keep our animals from being nuisances, neighborhood bullies and troublemakers. Free-roaming animals annoying people, disregarding property lines and marking territory, harassing and killing livestock, and running after wildlife are what we don’t want our dogs doing. And it’s also a safety issue. Our road has a 55 mph speed limit and dogs and other animals are often maimed and killed.

Our dogs are never outside unless accompanying one of us. This includes all potty and play times, no matter what the weather. We think it is part of being good neighbors and citizens and also being a responsible pet owner. But there are times we would like to have the dogs with us while we are working or exercising outside. As much as I like our pets, I don’t want to spend every moment focused on them. Chores need to be done and most of the time the concentration needed to complete a task precludes being aware of what the dogs are up to.

Our solution was to fence off part of a field and create an enclosed space of safety for the dogs to use. I didn’t want an elaborate (read expensive) or time-consuming project so opted for metal t-posts and vinyl snow fencing. This would give me a lot of flexibility in design and could be quickly built or changed when needed. I used what I call a posthole pounder – a metal pipe closed on one end and two handles at the other end – to drive the posts into the ground. It still takes effort but is much easier than using a hammer or sledge to plant the posts, especially in our stony fields.

Snow fencing comes in two colors – orange or dark green. My choice was dark green but orange was the only color available, so orange it was. After two years you do sort of get used to it. I used zip ties to attach fencing to posts and had it all up in a day. Tip to everyone: use wooden slats or stakes on every post, sandwiching the fencing between. This will prevent tears on the fencing. Also, use the wide part of the fencing, in my case the horizontal bands, when securing with the zip ties. I bet you’ll never guess how I learned about those tips. Yes, my mental how-to manual has been updated as I have learned from my mistakes. The whole area was over sown with grass seed of a play-yard blend. To this day, the grass here is the best on the property.

Now it’s been two and a half years since I put up the fence and it needed a “tune-up”. Friday was the perfect day to do it. The weather was in the high fifties to low sixties with a gentle breeze, feeling like early summer here. Unless it’s an emergency, the fencing is not fun to handle during gusty and breezy conditions. It is a lot easier to handle the zip ties when it’s warm, as most of it needs to be done without gloves. Last winter a section got blown open and I had to be retie it. Brrrr.

I redid all four corners, reconfigured some areas, added new stakes for extra support in certain places, and tightened up the fencing where it was sagging. I finished off by weed whacking both sides of the fence. I completed earlier than I expected and was pleased with the results. My timing for this project couldn’t have been better because the next two days were lulus.

November Header

2006-10-31T08:29:00.000-05:00

Early October is when the fall leaves are at their most colorful with the penultimate period being the second weekend in October. It is hard to escape the orange of Sugar Maples but the brilliantly red Parthenocissus quinquefolia (Virgina Creeper) along with the scarlet shot with pink and orange of Rhus typhina (Staghorn Sumac) are hard to overlook. What you see in the picture are the Rhus along with a few Parthenocissus, Monarda (bee balm), and a Physocarpus (ninebark). These were collected on a coolish and wet day in early October (thanks Lisa). This was my first attempt at scanning leaves and I was pleased with the result. I think the golden lettering added the right seasonal touch.

Here are some additional pictures. I created the header from the first one and liked the look of the second one but didn't think it lent itself as easily to creating a header.

First Post

2006-10-01T05:55:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the first posting on my new blog. It’s pretty exciting for me as I never saw myself being here. But as with most things in life, change is a constant. Whether we wish, plan, dread, or are indifferent to it, change will happen.

Most of the postings will be about gardening and plants, living a rural life, and our place in relation to the land, plants, and animals that encompass us. But as with most people, I have many and varied interests that will be popping up from time to time.