Doug Tallamy (Photo courtesy of the University of Delaware)
Doug Tallamy’s lecture started from a basic and logical premise: if you take away the places for wildlife to live and feed, you will lose your wildlife. We are all aware that habitat destruction leads to a loss of species, but very few of us believe that we can make a difference or that we are directly linked to the process. I mean this in a non-judgmental way and from a place of empowerment.
Some of you may think that this is an early case of ‘election fever,’ but alas it is not. Last month I sat in an auditorium and listened to a very convincing and lucid proponent for environmental restoration and species diversity. Regardless of his own political views, with respect to the biome Tallamy is definitely not a democrat. “All plants,” he asserts, “are not created equal in their ability to support wildlife.”
It turns out that the French botanist and designer, Patrick Blanc, is in fact very green. If you are unaware of his reputation as “The Green Man,” the eccentric eco-artist and designer sports bright green hair, and electric green nail polish painted on a long, curvy thumb nail.
With a strong background in botany under his belt, Blanc has explored the natural world while traveling extensively throughout the tropics. Through his travels he has paid particular attention to how plants situate themselves in their native environments–tangling and twisting amongst other species, climbing over each other, and colonizing small territories in diverse communities.
Blanc has paired his fascination with plants and their natural communities with new technologies, and is now one of the leaders in the field of vertical gardening, or “living walls.” In this day and age when space is at a premium–particularly in urban environments–vertical gardening is quite literally a breath of fresh air.
Every year during the winter months, growers start parading their new introductions through gardening magazines and catalogs. It’s the annual horticultural fashion show. And the horticultural models that hit the catwalk usually tell us a great deal about current trends and market demand.
As I peruse the pages of magazines this year I am struck by the balance of practicality and aesthetic. We all love beautiful plants–there is no denying it. This year, however, beauty is amalgamated with functionality.
Continuing where we left off, we will now explore several things that home owners can do to combat winter injury. The most effective remedy for winter injury on broad-leaved evergreens is prevention; in other words, the best protection is properly siting the plants.
For the past few weeks we have reflected on the strange weather that we experienced last year, discussing the physical damage to the Garden during the October storm and the identifying characteristics that signal future issues. The erratic behavior of the weather from September onwards reminded me of a time several years ago when an Indian summer lasted well into December. The temperatures crashed in the following January and we experienced winter almost overnight.
Some of you may remember that year. For the broad-leaved evergreens at the Garden, this was the year for winter injury, and there are several reasons why a plant experiences this.
Trees possess a physiognomy and physiology just like we do. If you are an arborist, a dendrologist, or just a lover of trees, you can walk into the woods and read the life stories of your local trees simply by tilting your head upwards and carefully observing your surroundings.
In lay terms this means that you can tell a lot about a tree just by looking at it and understanding the basics of how it functions. The snow storm we encountered at the end of October was an opportunity to reflect on the intimate relation that growth, structure, and environmental impact have on the lives of trees. I subtitled last week’s blog “No Tree Left Behind” because virtually every tree was at the mercy of last October’s unexpected snow, when the majority of deciduous trees still had full canopies.
The other day in Manhattan I passed a man wearing a t-shirt. It has been unseasonably warm this year and this was the confirmation. Throughout the fall and winter, The New York Botanical Garden has been showing similar signs of seasonal displacement and confusion. I would like to spend the next few weeks reflecting on some of the oddities that we experienced in the Garden over the past few months.
When I was teaching in our newly-restored Forest last month, part of my tour included a flowering Carolina rhododendron (Rhododendron carolinianum). It wasn’t in full flower, however there were several open blossoms scattered throughout the plant.
With the holidays around the corner, this is the time of year when we start giving the gardeners we love the gardening memorabilia they’ll adore. I am always delighted to receive new gardening books, calendars based on gardening themes, and pens adorned with silk flowers.
If you would like to give the gardener in your life–and that may be yourself–a practical gift, then I would recommend exploring gardening journals. Getting into the habit of keeping records during the gardening season is a wonderful way of compiling a history of your endeavors and organizing your seasonal tasks. Your favorite varieties can be recorded for future use and the successes and failures of the season are always instructive.
The season is winding down, meaning it’s a good time to reflect and take stock of what was grown in the garden this year. If I don’t keep my records and notes, the observations that seem cemented in my mind will have evaporated into a fuzzy haze of vague recollections in no time. As such, I will begin some initial record keeping here.
At our side entrance gate we planted a trio of coleus (Solenostemon) cultivars. We selected ‘Green Card,’ ‘Saturn,’ and ‘Brooklyn Horror’ for variety. The first two are large-leaved specimens, while the latter has very fine, feathery foliage. In terms of color, ‘Green Card’ is a bright citrine green while the other two are a luxurious combination of the same iridescent green and a rich burgundy.
A few weeks ago, I was displaying some grasses and sedges for a home gardening demonstration when a woman asked me what the difference is between the two. Naturally, there are anatomical and sometimes cultural differences (always generalizations) between these similar plants, however, they are often categorized together and thought of as the same. To help clarify the differences, we will begin with a useful mnemonic:
Sedges have edges, Rushes are round, Grasses have nodes from the top to the ground.
Grasses and bamboos are in the Graminaceae family, sedges are in the Cyperaceae family, and rushes are in the Juncaceae family. When you look at a grass or sedge, what you see are the stems, leaves, and flowers. And in the case of this explanation, the stems are referred to as culms.
