The Native Plant Garden‘s entrance decking, promenade, and benches are all made with lumber from native, sustainably harvested black locust trees (Robinia pseudoacacia)—a wonderfully durable, rot-resistant hardwood species with a long and colorful history.
Native Americans in Virginia made bows from black locust and are believed to have planted the trees moving eastward from the Southern Appalachians. Colonists at Jamestown reportedly used the trees to build corner posts for their first homes. The wood was also used by pioneers for fence posts, ship masts, and for pegs—called trunnels—in ship building.
Black locust tree (Robinia pseudoacacia)
When wet, the wood expands and becomes leak proof. So the ship trunnels were so strong that they lasted even longer than the ship hulls. According to naturalist Donald Peattie, after the War of 1812, the British claimed that they were defeated on Lake Champlain because of the superiority of the Americans’ “locust fleet” built with the trunnels.
Black locust trees grow rapidly by sending out underground stems that send up new shoots to form new trees. For this reason some considered them to be invasive or at best a nuisance. Because the tree spreads naturally, it is usually found in groves and these can be managed sustainably. For outdoor projects in the New York metro area, some progressive landscape architects seem to be using it more frequently as an alternative to tropical hardwoods.
Spot the noisy customer chatting away in the Perennial Garden. You won’t win a prize, sadly, but you’ll at least know who’s chirping tiny harrumphs at your intrusion when you visit.
It’s Tuesday, which means it’s almost Wednesday. And Wednesday, of course, means Greenmarket goodies! Come 9 a.m. tomorrow we’ll be out along Garden Way with our visiting vendors, buying our fill of fresh-picked fruits, vegetables, and baked treats. That said, we would love some company from our visitors.
As of last week’s Greenmarket offerings, we saw heaps of fresh blueberries, grape tomatoes, cabbage, bok choy, potatoes, green beans, and beets from Gajeski Produce. From Migliorelli Farm, there was all manner of flavorful herbs, along with summer squash, zucchini, peas of different kinds, and all the kale, spinach, and collards that could possibly fit in your crisper drawer. From Red Jacket Orchards, apricots, strawberries, and cherries, along with buckets of fresh chilled fruit juices. And of course there was Meredith’s Bread, which supplied us with stacks of fresh-baked pies, breads, scones, and muffins. They even had quiche!
Chances are we’ll see similar offerings on the table tomorrow, but with so many harvests beginning and ending in July, there may be a few surprises. In the meantime, head below for a recipe from our Ruth Rea Howell Family Garden crew.
This morning when I was walking to my office I noticed that the southern magnolia, Bracken’s Brown Beauty (Magnolia grandiflora ‘Bracken’s Brown Beauty’) was in bloom. My first impulse was the right one—to go up to the voluptuous, velvety petals, shoo the bees and other insects away, and stick my nose into it.
Not all magnolias have fragrances, but many do, and it is always worth investigating. ‘Bracken’s Brown Beauty’ has a distinctive lemon dishwashing detergent smell to it. It’s not a fragrance that is going to have you traveling from miles away to visit the flower, but it is nonetheless pleasant and worth a sniff or two.
Honestly, the fragrance is just a poor excuse to get close to the magnificent flower. The flower is substantial at 4-6” wide, with petals that are reminiscent of the undulating wings of a dove. Botanically speaking, since the petals and the sepals look so similar in a magnolia, they are classified as tepals. Sepals for the botanically less-inclined are the outer layer of the flower—in trees they are generally green leaf-like structures that protect the flower when it is in bud and then support it when in bloom.
Joyce H. Newman holds a Certificate in Horticulture from The New York Botanical Garden and has been a Tour Guide for over seven years. She is the former editor of Consumer Reports GreenerChoices.org.
Monarch butterflies are among the most popular and prominent insects in the Native Plant Garden, easy to spot with their dramatically dark orange and black patterned wings. One reason for their high visibility and large numbers is actually their relationship with the tall milkweed plants, which are flowering now in the dry meadow. Without the milkweeds, we wouldn’t have the monarchs.
In fact, monarchs (Danaus plexippus) depend on milkweed throughout their entire life cycle—when they lay eggs and when their larvae, in caterpillar form, feed exclusively on milkweed.
Many different species of native milkweed provide nourishment for monarchs, including swamp milkweed, green, purple, redwing, whorled, and horney spider varieties. The dry meadow contains a total of more than 500 milkweed plants. Of these, by far the most numerous are the butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa).
I’ve kept up with this dahlia over the last while. It stands by its lonesome in the Perennial Garden, presiding like a lighthouse beacon over the flowers and foliage growing underneath. I’m a fan of its flamboyance.
Dahlia ‘Mystic Illusion’ — Photo by Ivo M. Vermeulen
Rusby, his health still failing, is calm and collected when confronted by bandits. But efforts to get to a lower, warmer altitude are proving difficult. Additionally, the expedition supplies arrive but with a heavy price tag.
In between the struggles of securing mules for the trip out of the mountains, paying for a botched shipping job, and battling the effects of dysentery, Rusby manages a few moments to sample the local flora, hopeful of the arrival of proper drying equipment.
OFFICIAL DIARY of the MULFORD BIOLOGICAL EXPLORATION OF THE AMAZON BASIN
H. H. RUSBY, DIRECTOR
WEDNESDAY, JULY 6, 1921
Last night was not only most uncomfortable, owing to the cold, but I became anxious about my poor lung condition. It was a great relief when morning and sunshine appeared, yet I felt very bad and a little discouraged as to my future. After breakfast, with strong coffee and a little strychnine, I felt somewhat better, but the slightest physical effort caused me to gasp severely for breath.
The Native Plant Garden‘s entrance decking, promenade, and benches are all made with lumber from native, sustainably harvested black locust trees (Robinia pseudoacacia)—a wonderfully durable, rot-resistant hardwood species with a long and colorful history.
