Meadow Sightings

It's a beautiful thing to see a managed meadow in full bloom! I've seen two recently, and wanted to share some pictures.

First up: Angelica Park in the city of Reading. This is a real "wow", especially if you haven't been there recently. As most locals know, the dam that held the small lake there broke in 2001, resulting in the loss of the lake and a messy build-up of sediment that covered the once-beautiful area. Fast forward 8 years, and Angelica Park is now an Environmental Education Center for the city of Reading. An environmental education building is planned to occupy the footprint of the old boat house (right: a view from the boat house). But for now, what's there is Angelica Creek, a small fishing pond, and an expansive "floodplain meadow", with meandering trails throughout. A trail from Angelica Park to the Ken-Grill Recreation Center has recently been completed, as well. Apparently, it goes right by the house where I grew up in Kenhorst (the bronze marker hasn't gone up yet). Read more info. on a proposed Angelica Greenway all the way to Nolde Forest here.

At the beginning of July, here's what that meadow looked like up close - and believe me, the pictures aren't doing this justice:



Above: Yellow Heliopsis and Blue Vervain (Verbena hastata) - the Vervain is the purplish wash that you can see in the pictures. The lower picture is what the individual plants look like up close.

Below: Wild Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) is in the foreground, along with more yellow Heliopsis to the right.


Wouldn't this be a great place to take the family on a sunny Sunday afternoon?

Next up - a meadow in someone's front yard. Now, this is not just any old 'someone' - it's the front yard of Mike and Jan Slater, area botanical experts and enthusiasts and part of the founding group of the Berks Native Seed Bank Project. Jan also works at Sugarbush, and going to her house and seeing her garden confirmed my initial suspicion that she is just working at the nursery for entertainment purposes. But, no matter - we benefit from her expertise, even if she is light years ahead. Again - the pictures aren't doing this justice....


Above: the main front yard planting is, as of mid-July, between 2-15 ft. tall. It is mowed down completely every March. Too many species are planted here to name, but it includes lots of Helianthus, Joe-Pye (Eupatorium species), Cup Plant (Silphium species), goldenrod (Solidago species) and grasses.



Above: a rain garden captures water running off from the driveway with a mixture of species adapted to moist conditions: Common and Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca and incarnata), Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis), Pink Tickseed (Coreopsis rosea), Joe-Pye (Eupatorium species), and more. Below right: a gorgeous planting of Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa) - the strain they raise has distinctly reddish tones. Asclepias is the family that hosts Monarch butterflies.

This may not be what every homeowner dreams of doing to their front yard, but there's no question about the ecological benefits of this type of planting. Mike was walking around with a pair of binoculars around his neck, which came in helpful throughout our walk as he stopped to identify the different kinds of birds that called his front yard "home". He also sighted numerous species of butterflies, and talk about mowing the wild violets centered around whether or not the chrysalis' had been abandoned yet. Clearly, nature was thriving here - as is also apparent in the managed meadow at Angelica Park.

This blog entry is getting long, but in brief: good management and species diversity are important components of meadows, whether they are in public parks or your own back (or front!) yard.

The only reason there is not more invasive purple loosestrife than Blue Vervain at Angelica is because the purple loosestrife is managed aggressively - and even with those controls, there are still many plants there. And the miscanthus grass that Mike and Jan planted in their front yard meadow many years ago - one of the few non-native species included there - is being slowly replaced by them with native species, as it threatens to take over more than its share of space in the yard.

Species diversity also ensures that many different types of birds, butterflies, and other wildlife may find habitat that suits them perfectly - and provides food, shelter, and breeding grounds throughout the seasons.

Here's a good article on meadows that came out recently in the Hardy Plant Society newsletter - with some familiar names!

Local Homeowners Fighting the Good Fight....and Winning!

This year, I have been invited to many people's houses to come and look at their natural areas and help them identify plants, and so far, I've had the opportunity to get to 3 of them. All 3 were so amazing, I just had to write a post about them!

The first was a property in Mount Penn. Contrary to my assumption that Mt. Penn was basically just Perkiomen Avenue, and perhaps a side street or two, I soon discovered that there is an entire village built right into the side of the mountain, which really shows how sheltered I've been that I didn't know this existed! Winding my way through the narrow streets, passing house after house that seemed to have been carved right out of the bedrock, each different and unique, many extremely quaint, I really had the sense that I wasn't in familiar territory. J. greeted me on the steps of her house, which had to be at least 30 ft. above street level, but was only about 10 feet from the street. Considering the extreme slope of her front yard, I vowed to never complain again, EVER, about my terrain. You saw it in writing here.

Turns out her property continued up at the same extreme angle in her backyard, so walking to look at plants felt a little like climbing Mount Everest. I was frankly amazed that J. managed to plant anything at all, considering how precarious it would be to set foot on one of those hills and attempt to dig a hole, but plant things she had. She chuckled when we passed the spicebush she'd paid $20 for the previous year, only to realize later that her property was covered with mature specimens already!

J.'s property, like the other 2 properties I visited, was a beautiful woodlands property, with a canopy of mature chestnut trees and an understory of - yes! - spicebush, but invasives were lurking everywhere. J.'s major problem plant appeared to be multiflora rose, but we also saw a new stand of mile-a-minute weed dangerously close to some beautiful colonies of Jack-in-the-pulpits. Our major discovery was a young paw-paw tree, which J. first thought she recognized, and then we confirmed - and not only that tree, but several babies all around it! J. was overjoyed, and we determined that her first priority would be to keep the multiflora rose away from that small stand, to let it continue to grow and develop. J. was fanatic about the invasives, and described to me her continuing efforts over the years. Even as we walked along, she was pulling them here and there. In addition to keeping close tabs on the invasives, she had industriously planted many natives throughout her property, including a hazelnut most recently.

The other 2 properties I visited were even closer to home, just a few minutes away in Robeson township. However, they could have been a world away for all I could recognize of the landscape - these two properties were like fairylands, yet they were inhabited by real people. Perhaps the feeling I was in fairyland was heightened by the amazing, sinuous cob wall at the front yard of the first property - a hand-made earthen wall, with a slate-tiled roof, and beautifully gnarled branches accenting and forming the windows and doors. Now that's just something you don't see every day!

But, back to the properties. Here was a situation where two neighbors, with contiguous properties, realized they were gardening soulmates, and have been jointly gardening and caring for their two properties ever since. Their properties were also on a hill - one at the top, one at the bottom - making for another steep descent and climb, although not nearly as extreme as Mt. Penn. And it was yet another example of people who have managed to coax the beauty back into their landscapes, which had been completely taken over by invasive plants when they first moved into the houses. D. described the property thus: "It was like the forest around Sleeping Beauty's castle - so dense, you couldn't even see your way in." D. also called the tree of heaven the tree of hell (just like I do!), and from her description, she and her husband had taken out hundreds of them, big and small, over the course of many years. The same with the multiflora rose, which undoubtedly was a major contributor to the Sleeping Beauty effect. And their efforts paid off - the understory was lush with Christmas fern, lady fern, cinnamon fern, spicebush, massive rosebay rhododendrons, pinxterbloom azaleas, and white wood aster.

The other D.'s property, nestled in a small valley at the bottom of the hill, boasted a babbling brook running right alongside the house, with a steep slope of mountain laurel, in full, gorgeous bloom, directly opposite. It really seemed like the kind of place that people would pay several hundred dollars a night just to have the opportunity to see that vista when they woke up. Everywhere we walked, they talked about their ongoing projects - here a native meadow border, there a new cob cottage, here planning to put some natural stairs near an amazing-looking rock formation, there clearing away the plants to reveal an old stone wall, nestled deep in the woods - and everywhere, how to best control the invasive plants encroaching from all angles. We identified a few plants they were dismayed to learn were invasive plants, which were in their woods - barberry, burning bush, and the first-year form of garlic mustard, which is just an attractive looking mound of leaves with pretty scalloped edges - in addition to commiserating about the ones they already knew about and were dealing with.

Coming away from these visits, I felt more invigorated than ever in my own small battle to take back the woods around my house, and the Sugarbush property, which is also a nearly impenetrable thicket of invasive plants - because these 3 homeowners had showed me what was possible, with some extreme dedication and time committment, to the task of managing the invasive plants. Perhaps my property doesn't have the same "wow!" potential that theirs do, even with lots of work, but I'm sure it can at least be a decent Pennsylvania woodlands, which is really all I want, since a decent PA woodlands is one of the most beautiful landscapes going. And if they can do it, so can I - and so can you!

Now would be a good time to mention a few good invasive plant websites that can help you ID your own invaders:

Weeds Gone Wild: http://www.nps.gov/plants/alien/factmain.htm

DCNR Invasive Plants Tutorial: http://www.dcnr.state.pa.us/Forestry/invasivetutorial/List.htm

Wishing us all good luck!

Spring inspiration is all around us!

Did you ever notice this phenomenon: as soon as you learn to identify - or even begin to pay attention to - a certain flower, shrub, or tree, you begin noticing it everywhere?

I've had this happy occurrence many times this spring so far, and I've been very close to home when it happens - even at home, in one case!

Although the forest behind our house is cursed with every known invasive species of plant in PA, or so it seems, before all of the multiflora rose and Japanese bush honeysuckle leafed out again, I saw that I had spicebush (Lindera benzoin) growing far back in the woods - out of the reach, for now, of these aggressive invaders. I felt like I'd discovered a treasure! Seeing a stand of spicebush in the woods in early April is like looking through a haze of a fading yellow sunset - a far different experience from looking at the screaming yellow of forsythia, which overlaps in bloom, and is pretty hard on the eyes. I much prefer the understated beauty of spicebush, and once I saw it blooming this spring, I saw it everywhere.

Another is may apple. When this emerges in the spring, it looks for all the world like little fairy houses popping up where you least expect them. And they now seem to be everywhere, at least along my daily commute.

Speaking of commutes, my commute is one of the most beautiful drives there is, along the back roads of Chester County. There I started seeing great masses of Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica) under the high canopies of the deciduous forest, and the most beautiful stand I saw was on the shore of a creek.

And it gets even better...look at this beautiful scene from a natural plant community at one of my favorite places, Camphill Special School - Beaver Run: right at the entrance to the school is a little hollow, also on the higher bank of a stream, where Virginia Bluebells were blooming along with bright yellow Golden Ragwort (Packera aurea) and wood poppy (Stylophorum diphyllum), fronted by the amazing foliage of may apple (Podophyllum peltatum), interspersed all around with ferns. The most experienced landscape designer couldn't have done a better job than Mother Nature did here, with each of the flower and foliage colors and forms complementing each other beautifully. This is the kind of scene that can inspire gardeners to try to recreate these pleasing plant communities in our own backyards.

Here's a wildflower I hadn't specifically known about before, except for having heard the common name from time to time: Quaker Ladies, or bluets. I first saw this lawn blooming along Rt. 10, and thought it must be moss pinks (Phlox subulata), but after seeing the same mass of color closer by on another roadside and pausing for a closer look, I realized it was not! It was my helper, Jan Slater, who clued me in to the true identity of Houstonia caerulea, and then, of course, I started seeing them everywhere. Funny that I've lived here for a long time and never noticed it before! Since it's not like these drifts of flowers just appeared this year, it must be because I haven't taken the time to notice them before.

Now, over to Nolde Forest....you don't have to walk far to find something amazing to draw inspiration from, even on wet, dreary days like the day I was there this weekend. Here's a stand of Canada Mayflower (Maianthemum canadense) just emerging right along a pathway. It won't ever knock you over, even in full flower, but even just the scattering of these diminutive, glossy green leaves among last fall's leaves is beautiful in an understated way.

Walk a little farther and you'll find the aforementioned spicebush blanketing a steep bank going towards a creek, with a lush carpet of wild ginger (Asarum canadense) and ferns at its feet. Even when not in bloom, the spicebush lend an elegant air to its companions, with its vase-like shape, dark brown bark, and of course, that wonderful spicy scent.

And wild violets? They take on a whole new persona when given free reign in a shady woodland setting. Wild violets seem to get a bad rap, for no reason that I can see....it's not often that beauty and ease of growth go together so effortlessly. And have I mentioned that violets (Viola spp.) are host plants for fritillary butterflies?

I hope you're enjoying this beautiful spring as much as I am. Stay awake to the possibilities of implementing some of these nature scenes close to home!

Nursery Update - beginning of April 2009

We're a week away from opening, and are gearing up for the new season!

Our perennials are just breaking dormancy, so now is the time of year when I begin biting my nails wondering, "Are these plants going to look alive when the first customers roll in?" Since we overwinter all of our plants in our unheated barn, they are on exactly the same schedule as plants that have spent the winter outdoors, cozy in a garden....not forced into early greenery (or even blooms!) in a greenhouse. I'd take a plant grown this way any day, because it's already proven its hardiness. But it's not exactly instant gratification in the garden!

We've added native shrubs this year, and I have been busy lining these up from various growers, picking them up, and figuring out where we're going to put everything. Sugarbush is going to be packed this year!

As usual, the copy and print person on duty at Staples in the evening is going to be my new best friend for the next several weeks while I work on printing and laminating our customized bench cards that describe each plant we carry in great detail.

This year I am also really excited about all of the organic veggie plants we are going to be able to offer our customers. We've always done a rather bare-bones sort of veggie offering in the past, and most of it has been conventionally grown. But Erica Bowers Lavdanski, co-owner of B&H Organic Produce in Morgantown, is growing transplants for us this year (as well as speaking on small space vegetable gardening on April 18th!) - and we are going to be able to offer dozens of varieties of veggies! All will be grown organically (as her CSA farm is also managed).

Speaking of Erica, and speaking of speaking, this year we are also hosting a Speaker's Series, bringing in lots of great local people who are experts in their field and who will share their love of gardening with us. We'll have a new speaker every month, with a different and really interesting topic each time. Check out our Events page for more details.

On a final note, I would strongly advise anyone who will be visiting the nursery to WAIT to come until April 18th! The perennials will surely be looking more lively at that point, veggies will be here, and the first of the annuals and hanging baskets will also be here by then. Our April 11th opening won't be with our full complement of everything we will be offering this year. So kick back for another week, if you can! And then we'll hope to see you here soon for another great gardening season.

Gardening in Winter - Managing invasives has never been so much fun!

Most gardeners are bored to tears in the winter months. With all of those seed catalogs flooding our mailboxes and inboxes, tempting us with the promise of spring, the wait till we can get our hands dirty again is pure torture. Fortunately, there is at least one activity that can be done in the dead of winter to satisfy those gardening blues - managing invasive plants.

There are a few very good reasons for doing this in the dead of winter. First, you've got some time on your hands, which is not true for most gardeners anytime the weather is warm. There is usually just too much weeding, mulching, planting, transplanting and the like to get anything else done. With all of those options unavailable in the winter, selectively "editing" plants from the landscape (I borrow that wonderful idea from Claire Sawyer's recent book, "The Authentic Garden") becomes a perfect activity.

It's easy to see the outline of shrubs and vines in the winter, and thus to know what to cut. In fact, the winter landscape, at least at my property, highlights the problems with invasive plants in the landscape perhaps even more than in the summer, when they are in all of their glory. It's easy to see the vines climbing over everything - way up into trees, and covering over shrubs - in my yard, those vines are mostly Porcelain-berry and Japanese honeysuckle vines. It's easy to pull most of those down, as well - unless they're 60 ft. up into the trees, that is, and then the next best thing is to just cut them at the base and pull down as much as you can.

The outlines of Japanese bush honeysuckles are also easy to pick out, even at a distance - strongly striated bark on mature shrubs, with ID confirmed by a hollow pith (cut a 1/2" branch and look in the middle).

It's also the best time to manage multiflora rose, a landscape pest par excellance. When in full leaf, it becomes a real challenge to deal with larger specimens - but in the winter, I've found that chopping 2' long pieces all around the shrub, to slowly be able to get at the base of the plant, is the most effective method yet.

While most gardening is productive - with gardeners helping to coax life from the earth - this kind of gardening is satisfyingly destructive. Wielding my saw, lopper and pruner on a foray into the wilderness of the edge of our woods, I feel the very image of Kali, the Hindu goddess of destruction. Or an invasive plant hit-man.

I am waiting for the balance of the scales to tip once again in the favor of the environment that is supposed to be predominant in our woods - that is, native plants. Right now, they are distressingly few and far between. In fact, my discovery late this summer of two tiny ferns growing in our woods - not planted by me - lead me on a week-long celebration that I found hard to explain to all of the people who just say, "That's nice.....but aren't ferns supposed to be in our woods?"

Of course they are - that is the point. But in places like mine, and in so many others, the plants that are supposed to be there are simply not there - outcompeted by invasives that germinate more quickly than natives, shade out natives at crucial times in the growing season, produce more seed than natives - you name it, the invasive plants have a strategy for domination that is hard to counter.

But I've heard enough stories about native plants re-emerging from apparently barren landscapes once the invasive plants have been adequately managed, with no other help from gardeners other than attempting to once again level the playing field. This is what I'm hoping for on our property, and if I'm successful, I'll give you a tour the next time you're around, and point out the fern grove growing just beyond that rise.