Invasive Japanese barberry (Berberis thunbergii) outcompetes native understory and prevents forest regeneration in New York State (NYS DEC, 2015).
On March 10, 2015, the sale of 75 plant species will be prohibited or regulated in New York State because of their invasiveness and “to help control invasive species, a form of biological pollution, by reducing the introduction of new and spread of existing populations there by having a positive impact on the environment (NYS DEC, 6 NYCRR Part 575 Prohibited and Regulated Invasive Species, 2014).” This is a big step in the ongoing battle with invasive species or non-native species that cause harm—harm to human health, economic harm, or ecological harm (Executive Order 13112, 1999).
New York first proposed these regulations through the Invasive Species Council in 2010, “A Regulatory System for Non-native Species,” that defined a process to prohibit, regulate, and evaluate unlisted non-native species. As you read through the 75 listed plant species in New York’s regulations, they are all species already known to cause ecological harm and are broadly established in the region. Blacklisting a species in law is one way to prevent further spread. However, “it is difficult to get a species on a blacklist unless it has already caused damage, and by then it is usually too late because the great majority of established introductions are irrevocable (Simberloff, 2001).”
Most of us grow our plants in soil—we fuss over potting mixes for containers and we amend our planting beds with leaf mould or compost. For those of us who don’t like to get our hands dirty, there is an alternative. Members of the Orchidaceae family love to show off their roots, and many of them were destined to climb. Some 70% of all orchids, in fact, are epiphytic.
Orchids that dangle in the air—sometimes known colloquially as air plants—are classified as epiphytes. Epi means “on top,” and phyte means “plant”—essentially adding up to a plant that grows on top of another plant. The relation an epiphyte has with the host is not parasitic (where it is harming the host), nor is it symbiotic/mutualistic (where both parties benefit, but rather commensalistic (when one benefits and the other is neutral). The term commensalism is derived from the Latin for “sharing a table.”
Like anything in life, adaptation to an aerial environment has its pros and cons. Plants grow in the upper echelons of the forest canopy in order to receive better light, a habit that also protects them from herbivores that roam the forest floor.
While the appeal for new accommodations with a spectacular view is enticing, the cons of co-habitation up in the forest canopy are significant. Orchids need to find a way to attach themselves to their obliging hosts. No longer with their roots firmly planted in the soil, they not only need to find a means of support but also ways to effectively take up moisture and nutrients.
If you are looking for a forgiving orchid, dancing ladies—or Oncidium—are a good choice for homeowners with decent light. Oncidiums are a species with panache—the dancing ladies have a lower lip or labellum which flares out like an opulent hoop skirt. Their sepals and petals are diminutive in contrast and look like the head and outstretched arms of little ladies. These lovely blossoms perch in profusion on long, branched flower stalks which bob and sway in a gentle breeze.
These lovely ladies use their good looks to their advantage; they are promiscuous and will be happy to hybridize with just about anyone. They hybridize well with Brassia, Miltonia, Odontoglossum, and many more species to create hybrids and complex hybrids that combine the best of both or multiple parents. The Oncidium Alliance is large with many vibrant orchids that are not only stunning, but also easy to care for.
For the plantaholic, the New Year brings new vices. Fortunately, most of them are harmless and the conundrum gardeners are most often faced with is finding a good home for this year’s novelties in an already crowded garden.
One person who is always ready to play to our weakness is nurseryman Dan Heims of Terra Nova Nurseries. Terra Nova is a wholesale nursery situated just 25 miles south of Portland, Oregon; for sourcing plants from them in your area, this page will direct you to a store near you.
When it comes to color, curiosity and the “wow” factor, Heims’s breeding program has developed a formula for success. This year, leading the charge for “something completely new” is Mukgenia Nova™ ‘Flame’. It may sound like you are knee deep in sludge, but Mukgenia is actually the first ever intergeneric hybrid between a Bergenia (pigsqueak) and Mukdenia ‘Crimson Fans’.
Mukdenia (the parent) is essentially a coral bell (Heuchera) with palmate leaves. Their foliage colors beautifully as the season progresses. The green palmate leaves become tinged with a brilliant red. The only problem, here in our New York climate, is that the foliage senesces rapidly in late summer; particularly when it has been a hot summer.
The historic Enid A. Haupt Conservatory is well known for extraordinary seasonal exhibitions. The Holiday Train Show delights winter-weary visitors with festive lights, New York landmarks artfully crafted from natural materials, and myriad model trains chugging through a whimsical tropical landscape. The Orchid Show electrifies the senses, offering a veritable jungle of astonishing colors, forms, and perfumes. The annual spring-autumn exhibition showcases kaleidoscopic plantings and has recently paid homage to Monet’s garden at Giverny and the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller garden in Seal Harbor, Maine. Beginning May 16th, 2015, the vibrant Mexican garden of artist Frida Kahlo will find an ephemeral home right here in the exhibition houses.
All of these shows certainly warrant a visit, but I strongly encourage visitors to delve into the permanent glasshouse plant collections as well. This incredibly diverse assemblage, comprised of over 20,000 plants from around the globe, is the soul of the Conservatory. Since the grand building’s completion in 1902, many of these specimens have been collected by some of the most distinguished botanists and horticulturists of the era—from our founder Nathaniel Lord Britton to Sir Ghillean Prance.
With the holidays upon us, I figured I should share some tips for getting out of sticky situations. No, I don’t mean finding the words you need to mask your disappointment when you unwrap yet another holiday-themed tie, or filling those pregnant silences that come after receiving a gift that’s just a little too practical.
The sticky mess I refer to is sap. Just looking at a conifer is enough to make my hands feel sticky. The holidays are a perfect time for buying or making your own holiday wreaths or evergreen table decorations, and I usually journey down to the floral district on 28th street—between 6th and 7th—to pick up my supplies. But the tree vendors that set up on street corners seem to have an ever-expanding selection of greens.
While most of the Garden is being put to bed, our Seasonal Walk—designed by Piet Oudolf—is still putting on a notable display as the winter approaches. This is thanks to Oudolf’s naturalistic design which incorporates many plants that senesce well and provide interest even after they’ve passed their seasonal prime.
A week or two ago I was working on the Seasonal Walk, tidying up the border with my colleague, Katie Bronson, and we were admiring some of the sturdier perennials that still looked good even into December. One of the most striking features of the Walk at the onset of the hibernal months is the tall purple moor grass (Molinia caerulea ssp. arundinacea ‘Transparent’). This grass played an important role earlier in the season as it shot up to nearly six feet, towering over many of its neighboring perennial brethren. ‘Transparent’ has airy flowers with an open habit and long-lasting seedheads.
The stems of ‘Transparent’ turn into a vision of glowing embers late in the season, when they take on golden, orange, and raspberry hues. Those of you with a watchful eye may have noticed as you strolled down the border that some of the stems on certain grasses were upright, sturdy, and colorful, while other, similar grasses looked somewhat worse for wear and had only golden yellow stems. Katie told me that along with ‘Transparent’, some tall more grass (Molinia arundinacea ‘Skyracer’) had been planted. Presumably these plants will be removed in the spring and replaced with more ‘Transparent’. It was difficult to distinguish the two during the growing season, but their disparities became apparent in the fall.
As the holiday season descends on us, it’s time for gardeners to spruce up their home in preparation for the seasonal festivities. I love the smell of pine in my home and I always try to create an evergreen holiday centerpiece for my table. The addition of a Balsam fir adds a lovely fragrance to my living room.
As a New Yorker, I am bombarded by Christmas tree vendors when I walk down the streets around this time of year. Having moved several times in my 10-year tenure in the city, I’ve discovered that Christmas trees are like Rainer cherries. Their price changes as you walk from east to west, and they drop the further north you walk. I have vivid memories of living on the east side and walking from 2nd Avenue to Madison during cherry season, watching the price rise from $4.99 a pound to $13.99—all within a four-block radius.
Now a Westsider, I buy my trees anywhere from West 106th to West 118th. Last year, I bought an eight-footer for a wonderful price. The tree took a ride on the M10 thanks to a generous driver who understood that my eyes were bigger than my arms. This year I am torn between the good prices I see at my local Whole Foods and the deals that I see on West 106th. It all depends on how far I want to lug the tree.
Winter is suddenly upon us and, as the temperatures plummet and the city braces for the inevitable snow and ice, many will find their way to the garden’s iconic Enid A. Haupt Conservatory to decompress, take a leisurely stroll among the lush, tropical foliage, and escape the bitter cold. Some, perhaps inspired by the lowland rain forest houses or the desert displays, will jet off to warmer climes. While I freely admit that I already work in paradise, it’s nice to get out and see some of my plants in habitat now and again.
I recently took an exploratory trip through the Sonoran desert of Mexico and into Arizona. By design I made no specific plans and, like a slightly less profane version of Anthony Bourdain, I had “No Reservations.” From the dusty desert proper through the dense Chaparral shrubland and semi-arid grasslands of Arizona, much of the area ranges in temperature from broiling hot to bone-chilling, depending on month and time of day. Here it was late October and still scorching with nary a cloud in the sky to provide respite.
The landscape is truly as beautiful as it is unforgiving, and the same may be said of the plant life. My arms and legs looked as if they’d been shredded by a tidal wave of furious cats; such were the hazards of botanizing in a region so thick with spiny inhabitants. I would later discover the name for a cowboy’s protective “chaps” was actually derived from the word “Chaparral”—an arid and prickly biome on the Sonoran desert’s northern border. One quickly discovers the Chaparral functions quite efficiently as human sandpaper.
With Thanksgiving and the season’s first snow behind us, the reality of winter is now upon us. At this time of year the rose garden is closed to the public, but the gardeners are still busy working. Fall clean-up is important!
As every rose gardener knows, the queen of flowers is particularly susceptible to black spot. The spores of the fungus will happily over-winter in the soil around your roses. It is paramount to clean up all the diseased foliage and be meticulous about keeping the area around the rose clean.
Once our roses start to go dormant for the winter and the ground starts to cool, we surround the base of the plants with mulch. The mulch acts like a winter Parka, protecting the base of the rose during the cold winter months. We use a finely shredded bark mulch that doesn’t get matted down into large clumps. “Hilling” or mounding mulch around the base of our roses to a depth of 6 to 8 inches provides ample protection during the cold winter months.
