There is Still Hope

Many years ago, I don’t even remember exactly when now, I started a number of native redbud (Cercis canadensis) from seed.  (Seed courtesy of the NANPS* seed exchange.) Most I gave away, but one I kept for myself with dreams that someday it would look like this. (above & to the right)

I saw my first redbuds on a visit to the Royal Botanical Gardens in Hamilton, Ontario, when I was in University; my parents had taken me to visit the lilac dell there.  One ridge above the dell gradually segued into woodland, and at the border between the open area and the woodland was a mixed stand of redbud and flowering dogwood.  It was my first real taste of Carolinian woodlands, and I feel in love with the look and wanted it for myself someday.  The bonus for me as a gardener, was that redbuds are very, very low maintenance – they almost never need pruning, and I’m now too busy pruning in other peoples gardens to want a lot of high maintenance plants in my own garden. Toronto, though, is borderline for Carolinian plants, but I had started seeing redbuds planted and decided to give it a try.

Well the first winter it lost half its height to the cold, which dropped it from about 6″ to 3″ (I apologize, I’m still not fully metric.)  It survived, nonetheless, but over the next few years it: 1) had its top ripped off by a raccoon or squirrel, 2) had half its leaves regularly harvested by carpenter bees, and 3) was snapped in two by a soccer ball.  I nearly gave up, but come spring the tree always made a come back.  It finally made it to about 6 or 7 feet tall (around 2 metres or so) but it never bloomed.  I guess all its energy was just going into surviving in a hostile world.

Then after a long spell of relatively mild winters, we had two brutal winters back to back.  The first one did it in completely, but I didn’t have the heart to cut it down, so the skeleton remained.  And then, last summer I discovered that while I wasn’t paying attention, the tree had sent out new shoots from the bottom!

‘skeleton’ with new growth

new growth on ‘dead’ redbud

I was so thrilled, I went all LOTR – “There Is Still Hope“!!!

Then came winter.  It was so mild by comparison to the last two years, except for a brutal cold snap around Valentines’ Day, I didn’t think there were any worries about the tree.  But when I went to check it out recently, I discovered that the wildlife had once again had a go at the new shoots, and left only stubs.  Well I am keeping my fingers crossed.  I will cut down the dead wood, put up some sort of protection around the tree, and pray.  If it ever recovers I will definitely be posting photos!

*NANPS – North American Native Plant Society, http://www.nanps.org/

Weeding Along Fences & Limbing Up

If good fences make good neighbours, then weeding along fences makes good gardens.  (Not sure about the grammar, but I am sure about the weeding.)

Before Weeding

After Weeding

These tree seedlings were hiding between a trellis and a fence where presumably they hoped they would miss getting weeded.  ‘Gifted’ trees can be wonderful, but I strongly recommend keeping them away from fence lines as they will just wreck the fence eventually.

Sometimes tree seedlings get missed even when they aren’t ‘hiding’.  When I moved to my current place, the downstairs neighbour and I discovered that the garden had been left to it’s own devices and there were at least 13 saplings – all along the fence/property line.  Worse yet, they seemed to be mostly Manitoba Maples, which are apparently quite handsome trees in Manitoba, but here in Ontario they are weed trees and I wish they’d go back.  At any rate, we couldn’t let that many trees grow right by the fence – the fence was in rough enough shape without trees trying to grow up against it.  ( See What Happens When You Let Shrubs Grow Through The Fence) We got rid of all but two which we thought were regular maples, but turned out to be Norway Maples which (excuse my prejudice) are even worse than Manitoba Maples as their shade and root systems are both very dense, so it’s difficult to get anything else to grow anywhere near them.  I managed to get one down while it was still small enough, but had to give up on the other, and settle for limbing it up.  It now provides a roost for the pidgeons that my neighbour feeds.  Sigh!

On a happier note, the limbing up went quite well and the cuts healed very quickly, as you can see in the photo to the right.  As an added bonus the leaves turn a beautiful golden yellow  that just glows in Autumn and which photos don’t quite capture, but I’ve tried all the same.  (Autumn photos taken in November)

In Time For Spring – Another Book Review

the SHADY LADY’S GUIDE to NORTHEAST SHADE GARDENING                     by Amy Ziffer; University Press of New England; 2014

The title says it all.  This is the book for shade gardening in the Northeast; specifically Northeastern North America.  If you live somewhere else on the globe this book is only of interest if you are one of those many people who love to drool over photos of plants you will never be able to grow where you live.  If you live in the NE of NA, and you have a shady spot – then I highly, highly recommend this book, it’s the best I’ve come across so far.

As Ms. Ziffer points out in her introduction, the publishing industry is awash in gardening books that attempt to apply to everyone and as a result are so general that large swaths of the information in them is of little or no use to the book’s owner.  (I own a number of books like this.) This is particularly true of the sections that list plants, and since half of this book is a plant gallery, it is comforting to know that if you live in the area described – all of the plants mentioned are worth reading about.  You aren’t necessarily going to use them all, and they are not the only ones available for your garden, but they are ones that grow well in the specific conditions you have.  As is always the case, deciding what is worth growing (as opposed to what might grow) is quite subjective, but Ms. Ziffer is very clear on the criterion she used for evaluating plants, and that makes it easy to judge whether or not you agree with her assessments.

The book also has a lot of very practical advise about gardening in general, and gardening in the shade in particular.  I found myself in huge agreement with the section on mulch, and although I have never had to worry about deer the section on dealing with them was very informative.  Ms. Ziffer has a gentle sense of humour, and a very realistic assessment of the capabilities and needs of Northeastern NA shade gardens.   This book is very much about working with the conditions you have in order to get the best value for your time and money.

A significant portion of the plants covered are native plants and related cultivars, including a number of the spring ephemerals.  The logic is that effective gardening means working with plants that are adapted to the conditions you have, so native plants have a real edge in that department. I really appreciated a book that had native and non-native species side by side instead of having to go to separate books to get the necessary information.

This book’s a keeper.

The Last Rose(s) of Summer

‘Tis the last rose of summer,

Left blooming alone, . . .

– Thomas Moore

Well, not exactly the absolutely last rose of summer, but a few of the last roses of summer, though only one of them is mine.  The first photo is of a miniature rose called ‘The Fairy’ which despite its delicate looks made it through last winter (’13-’14) almost completely unscathed and spent the whole summer covered in masses of blooms, so it’s more of a ‘last rose bush’ rather than a ‘last rose’.  This was taken September 24th – so it’s technically Autumn.

Unlike this miniature rose the next two roses got badly dinged last winter, and did little or no blooming in the summer, they were putting all their energy into regaining lost ground.  The first is a yellow climbing rose, name unknown, that used to be rather overgrown and which I had been gradually cutting back over the years to keep it from trying to grow through the eaves trough on the shed behind it.  It will be a while before I have to worry about that again, but it did put out this last spray of rosebuds in early September, so perhaps it most truly qualifies as the ‘last rose of summer’.

The last is a tea rose called ‘World Peace’ which I’m guessing is related to the ‘Peace’ rose.  It has never been a very vigorous rose, but it had really picked up once I moved it to a sunnier spot in my garden, and was starting to produce multiple blooms for the first time in its existence, when last winter nearly did it in.  So although I missed having much in the way of bloom this summer, I was thrilled to see this last flush in October.  It was so cold and over cast by then, that I was afraid the buds would never open, but eventually we had a few warmer, sunnier days and they all opened up, but I prefer this photo from midway along when the last rose is still just a bud.

‘Ecology for Gardeners’ – Book Review

Ecology for Gardeners:  Steven B. Carroll and Steven D. Salt;                          Timber Press; 2004

It has been just over a decade since I finished the courses for my horticultural certificate; so when I spotted “Ecology for Gardeners” in the library, it seemed like a good time for a refresher course.  It seem somehow apropos that it came out the year I earned the certificate, although I only came across the book late this year.

This is not the book you need if you are trying to figure out how to deal with a specific insect pest or plant disease, but it is the book to give you insight into how these and other organisms interact to create the ecosystem that your garden exists in.  I should note off the top that although the science in the book is global, the authors have focused primarily on North America as that is where their experience is, and therefore where the text is most applicable.

The first chapter ‘The Nature of Plants’ was rather like a quick recap of most of the botany I’ve taken to date.  From there you move to ‘Other Garden Inhabitants’ (essentially all the non-plant life) and ‘The Garden Environment’ (the ‘elements’ as they used to be called).  Chapters 4 and 5 look at how these different factors interact with one another, and the final chapter applies all this crash course in biology/ecology specifically to gardening.

Being teachers, the authors have written a book that in many ways could be used as a textbook, but one that is written with a sense of humour; something that is frequently missing in textbooks and essential, I think, for coping with the vagaries of life (& gardening).  The glossary at the back of the book covers most of the terms used in the book, which are also explained in the context of their first appearance in the text.  A short list of further reading, and a very comprehensive Index follow.

For those who find science, and especially scientific nomenclature, intimidating I will say that it gets easier as you go through the book.  If you really can’t face it, I think reading the last chapter (Ch. 6) by itself would be worth it.  From there you could go back, if you wished, to learn more of the biology that grounds the conclusions of the authors.  I’ll be honest though; this is not a light read, and it is not gardener porn – it really is a textbook.  It does, however, lends itself to being read in small chunks.

My only serious complaint was with regards to the figures and plates.  Since the figures are not always on the page where the text referring to them begins, and because the colour plates are all in the middle of the book, it took me a few tries before I figured out which was which and was able to find the corresponding illustration being referred to in the text.

The epilogue, and especially the last paragraph, was an excellent précis of the authors’ ethos and the spirit in which the book is written, so I will let it speak for itself:     “Although gardens are created environments, they can be thought of as windows into the workings of the natural world.  To the extent that we approach gardening with the welfare of the natural world in mind, our gardens will be places in which to nourish plants and ourselves and through which to make Earth a healthier, better place in which to live.”

If that is the sort of gardening that appeals to you, and you enjoy science, then I would definitely recommend this book.

 

Hiding under the Hemlock

The young native Hemlocks [Tsuga canadensis]that I see planted in people’s yards on gardening shows are fairly small and dense, but as they get older they thin out considerably, and get very tall. Then, like many evergreens, some of the lowest branches die back because they aren’t getting any light down there. And yes, this is true of shade-loving Hemlocks too.
The rule is to remove deadwood because it’s an entry point for disease, but to be honest I couldn’t see any evidence that that was an issue here. It was more a case of aesthetics.  Aesthetics and weeds. They don’t really show in this photo as far as I can tell, but there was a regular ‘nursery’ of tree seedlings developing in the shade of this Hemlock and the easiest way to be able to weed under there was to get rid of the deadwood first.  I try my best not to leave stubs – both for the trees sake and for mine.  Stubs snag anything they can, look unsightly, and interfere with the trees ability to close the wound left by removing the branch.  The smaller the branch, the smaller the wound and the more quickly it heals.

The weeding still involved crawling around on my hands and knees, but at least there were no longer any dead branches trying to scratch my face.  I did this pruning in the middle of July or the middle of summer (depending which hemisphere you live in), but since all I was doing was removing deadwood and weeding, I could presumably have done it at just about any time of the year.  (OK not the middle of winter, but just because it’s too bloody cold.)

In order to do these photos, I got in under the living ‘skirt’ of the tree.  If you stood back, the work I did wouldn’t be particularly noticeable, it would just somehow look a little lighter and neater, but not in an obvious way.

Rejuvenating a Juniper – Recumbent form

Junipers are rather like shape-shifters – they come in so many forms and sizes.  This one is decades old and had gotten rather overgrown, in particular it was having disagreements with the lawnmower, so it needed some trimming.

Indeed it had been regularly trimmed along the edge where the lawn was, giving the front edge a rather abrupt look.  I couldn’t tell you the exact cultivar, I’m not even sure what variety – it’s not upright, but not exactly prostrate either; although it might have been when it started out.  Certainly the front was low to the ground, but it was nearly four feet tall in the back.                                                    As you can see, it looks totally different from the back.  When a shrub has its back to a fence or wall, people rarely go on the other side, and stuff happens when you aren’t looking!  There was some dead stuff, including some stubs at the back.  My main discovery though, had to do with the trimming that had been done to keep it away from the lawn.  With low-growing, dense, evergreens like this one, the lower branches get shaded by the upper branches, and eventually are only producing growth at the very tips.  Since the tips of the lower branches were the ones that were only ones getting regularly trimmed, there were a number of branches that either had no green growth on them, or so little that if they were trimmed again, they would be bare branches.  Junipers rarely break new growth from bare wood, so it seemed to me that the best way to prune this older shrub was to take out most of the lower branches – anything with little or no growth.

 I took it down a little at the top as well – but not much.  Primarily I wanted to balance out the overall shape so that taking out all that lower, longer growth didn’t make it suddenly look top-heavy. The end result was a shrub that was somewhat smaller and well away from the lawn.  It also looked like it was floating (from the front at least).

Robin came to check out my work and see if I’d uncovered anything tasty.

Annabelle Hydrangea – Pruned vs Unpruned

My garden suffers from ‘cobblers child’ syndrome – that is I’m so busy pruning other people’s gardens that I neglect my own. I do generally get around to the pruning chores (though often a bit late) but this year I missed doing my Annabelle Hydrangea completely. Humber Nurseries politely refer to these hydrangeas as “colonizing” which is to say that if you don’t keep them in check they will take over your garden. They not only spread out, but up; so not surprisingly my unpruned Annabelle is close to six feet tall this year, and nearly eight feet wide.  It’s even threatening to overtake the birch sapling next to it; although that is partly because a squirrel tried to use the sapling for climbing practice and snapped off the top third of the tree.

This isn’t so much a case of “Should Annabelle hydrangeas be pruned?”, as “Do you have the room to leave them unpruned?”

For contrast, here is an Annabelle that I did prune. Now to be fair it isn’t as old a plant and/or it has been pruned regularly, but you can see the difference even without anyone standing there for scale. This one is closer to three-and-a-half feet tall. It also isn’t nearly as wide, as part of my spring pruning includes removing canes around the edge of the plant. 

Annabelle’s send out underground runners that then send up shoots; hence the ‘colonizer’ epithet.  I keep this one in especially tight because it’s on a laneway and if I let it go it would obstruct a drivers view, especially when backing down the lane.  On the other hand it does a great job of hiding the utility box.

To be fair to Annabelle’s they can grow in just about any soil – clay or sand – as long as it’s not too dry, and the bloom is attractive while still green, when fully white, and even makes a lovely dried flower. (One year my sister cut some early for a dried arrangement and put them in a vase that had copper in it and the flowers dried to a gorgeous deep bronze colour.)

What Happens When You Let Shrubs Grow Through The Fence

Enough Said!

 

Missed Deadline – Clematis

Like the cobbler’s children who didn’t have any shoes, my own garden is often neglected while I work on other people’s plants. The vine in question was planted by a previous resident. It could probably do with more sun, but it seems happy here and I am reluctant to move it, having lost other clematis’ (clematii?) in sunnier spots that should have been more ideal.

The best time to prune clematis is around the same time you prune the roses: when the forsythia is blooming. (The one exception to this would be any clematis that blooms in the spring.)

Before

After

As soon as you can see where healthy buds are, that is the time to prune, because the new buds are notoriously easy to knock off, if you wait until they start to send out shoots; nevertheless, that is when I finally got around to pruning this one.

 

Before, close-up

After, close-up

A few years ago I put four eyelet screws in the fence and wove picture wire through in a sort of butterfly shape, so that the clematis would have something to grow up.  Since the vine is still fairly small, pruning primarily consists of taking out the dead growth and ensuring the new growth is reaching the wires.

I think my favourite thing about this vine is that in late June it likes to peak through the fence to try and get the afternoon sun, and ends up creating a lovely semi-Zen minimalist look.