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Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Getting Big Pumpkins

Pumpkins grow in many gardens. Harvesting the big, orange globes in autumn and carving them for Halloween is part of Americana. Made into pumpkin pie, they provide a delectable treat. For many of us, we want a lot of pumpkins and we like them big, but as the growing season wanes those desires are at odds with each other. Often, you can have many pumpkins or you can have large pumpkins, but you can't have both.

A pumpkin and pumpkin flower

Pumpkins are basically a squash. Like most squash plants, they will keep producing flowers and small fruit until a freeze hits. A typical pumpkin plant will have only two primary vines, but will have numerous flowers develop along their lengths as they continually creep beyond the confines of their growing space. The flowers are either male or female with just one goal in mind: make baby pumpkins.

Like all other plants, they put a lot of effort into developing the baby pumpkins. To the plant it doesn't matter how big the fruit grows as long as it produces seeds to enable the pumpkin family to continue for future generations. So the plant churns out a lot of flowers and a lot of baby pumpkins. A lot of small, baby pumpkins. Humans, particularly Americans, think bigger is better.

To get big fruit you need to threaten the plant. When the vines have many babies growing along them, they'll send relatively equal amount of nutrients to each so that they can all grow and develop. When some of those offspring suddenly disappear, the plant boosts the energy to the remaining fruit so that they'll grow quickly and overcome whatever catastrophe caused the loss.

You need to be that catastrophe. With just a few weeks before the first frost, time becomes an adversary when it comes to growing big pumpkins. By plucking off flowers and pruning very small fruit, you divert extra energy to the remaining parts of the plant. When only one or two pumpkins remain on the vine, all of the energy from those large, elephant-ear leaves flows to them. The boost is enough to cause a perceptible size increase.

To get big pumpkins, first look at the flowers. After you have the young pumpkins on the vine, remove the flowers that can develop into competition. To make it easy, remove them all. To save effort, look closely at them. Male flowers will be on long, thin stalks. Female flowers will grow on shorter stalks with a very small bulb at their base; that is the baby pumpkin in the making. You really only need to remove the female flowers to prevent additional pumpkins.

Many flowers on a vine with just one small fruit

Don't act too quickly, though. Wait until your chosen fruit is at least the size of a softball. It's not unusual for baby pumpkins to shrivel on the vine. The plant does its own job of selective pruning when a fruit is competing too much with a neighbor or if it isn't ideally located on the vine. You don't want your favorite baby to be one that the plant sacrifices at the same time you're removing all other potential pumpkins.

You can also remove fruit of any size that has already developed in an effort to boost the size of the remaining ones. Use pruning shears or a sharp knife to separate them from the plant. The vines can be prickly so it's a good idea to wear gloves. How many you remove is up to you.

A typical vine will produce up to five pumpkins, potentially more. Competitive pumpkin growers will select the single, fastest-growing pumpkin on a plant and remove all others. That's one way they grow monstrous pumpkins. If you're growing for Halloween carving, you may want to keep one or two of the pumpkins that are perfectly shaped and remove ones that don't match up. If you're going for size, keep the biggest and remove all of the small, developing ones. If you want quantity, be happy with the three or four that are doing best and sacrifice the rest; accept that they all won't reach their full size potential.

My best vine has two pumpkins that are already growing past 10 inches in diameter. They look great and I'm very happy with them. Another on that vine is about eight inches and there's one more about the size of an orange. Though I'd like all four, the smallest just doesn't have enough time to develop in the two or three weeks remaining before our potential first frost. To benefit the other three, it has to go.

My wife planted her own vines in a separate bed a few weeks after I did. The late start is reflected in the size of her pumpkins. They are just now approaching the softball stage. To have any hope of sizable fruit on her plants we have been systematically removing all of the flowers and will soon remove some of the small pumpkins once we determine the best candidates. We may be left with a single pumpkin on each vine to hope for a harvest.

Removing the competition

Pumpkins are up to 90 percent water and pruning the plant will induce stress so be sure to continue watering the vines. You don't want to overdo it with saturated soil, but just because there are fewer pumpkins on the vine it doesn't mean the plant's water needs have decreased. Continue normal irrigation.

You probably aren't growing a champion pumpkin over 1810 pounds (the current record). You just want some that will delight your kids or grandkids, or make a good pie. I don't like to unnecessarily harm or prune any plant, but when it comes to pumpkins, selective pruning will provide the best results. In many respects, for pumpkins size does matter.

Pumpkins grow in many gardens. Harvesting the big, orange globes in autumn and carving them for Halloween is part of Americana. Made into pumpkin pie, they provide a delectable treat. For many of us, we want a lot of pumpkins and we like them big, but as the growing season wanes those desires are at odds with each other. Often, you can have many pumpkins or you can have large pumpkins, but you can't have both.

A pumpkin and pumpkin flower

Pumpkins are basically a squash. Like most squash plants, they will keep producing flowers and small fruit until a freeze hits. A typical pumpkin plant will have only two primary vines, but will have numerous flowers develop along their lengths as they continually creep beyond the confines of their growing space. The flowers are either male or female with just one goal in mind: make baby pumpkins.

Like all other plants, they put a lot of effort into developing the baby pumpkins. To the plant it doesn't matter how big the fruit grows as long as it produces seeds to enable the pumpkin family to continue for future generations. So the plant churns out a lot of flowers and a lot of baby pumpkins. A lot of small, baby pumpkins. Humans, particularly Americans, think bigger is better.

To get big fruit you need to threaten the plant. When the vines have many babies growing along them, they'll send relatively equal amount of nutrients to each so that they can all grow and develop. When some of those offspring suddenly disappear, the plant boosts the energy to the remaining fruit so that they'll grow quickly and overcome whatever catastrophe caused the loss.

You need to be that catastrophe. With just a few weeks before the first frost, time becomes an adversary when it comes to growing big pumpkins. By plucking off flowers and pruning very small fruit, you divert extra energy to the remaining parts of the plant. When only one or two pumpkins remain on the vine, all of the energy from those large, elephant-ear leaves flows to them. The boost is enough to cause a perceptible size increase.

To get big pumpkins, first look at the flowers. After you have the young pumpkins on the vine, remove the flowers that can develop into competition. To make it easy, remove them all. To save effort, look closely at them. Male flowers will be on long, thin stalks. Female flowers will grow on shorter stalks with a very small bulb at their base; that is the baby pumpkin in the making. You really only need to remove the female flowers to prevent additional pumpkins.

Many flowers on a vine with just one small fruit

Don't act too quickly, though. Wait until your chosen fruit is at least the size of a softball. It's not unusual for baby pumpkins to shrivel on the vine. The plant does its own job of selective pruning when a fruit is competing too much with a neighbor or if it isn't ideally located on the vine. You don't want your favorite baby to be one that the plant sacrifices at the same time you're removing all other potential pumpkins.

You can also remove fruit of any size that has already developed in an effort to boost the size of the remaining ones. Use pruning shears or a sharp knife to separate them from the plant. The vines can be prickly so it's a good idea to wear gloves. How many you remove is up to you.

A typical vine will produce up to five pumpkins, potentially more. Competitive pumpkin growers will select the single, fastest-growing pumpkin on a plant and remove all others. That's one way they grow monstrous pumpkins. If you're growing for Halloween carving, you may want to keep one or two of the pumpkins that are perfectly shaped and remove ones that don't match up. If you're going for size, keep the biggest and remove all of the small, developing ones. If you want quantity, be happy with the three or four that are doing best and sacrifice the rest; accept that they all won't reach their full size potential.

My best vine has two pumpkins that are already growing past 10 inches in diameter. They look great and I'm very happy with them. Another on that vine is about eight inches and there's one more about the size of an orange. Though I'd like all four, the smallest just doesn't have enough time to develop in the two or three weeks remaining before our potential first frost. To benefit the other three, it has to go.

My wife planted her own vines in a separate bed a few weeks after I did. The late start is reflected in the size of her pumpkins. They are just now approaching the softball stage. To have any hope of sizable fruit on her plants we have been systematically removing all of the flowers and will soon remove some of the small pumpkins once we determine the best candidates. We may be left with a single pumpkin on each vine to hope for a harvest.

Removing the competition

Pumpkins are up to 90 percent water and pruning the plant will induce stress so be sure to continue watering the vines. You don't want to overdo it with saturated soil, but just because there are fewer pumpkins on the vine it doesn't mean the plant's water needs have decreased. Continue normal irrigation.

You probably aren't growing a champion pumpkin over 1810 pounds (the current record). You just want some that will delight your kids or grandkids, or make a good pie. I don't like to unnecessarily harm or prune any plant, but when it comes to pumpkins, selective pruning will provide the best results. In many respects, for pumpkins size does matter.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

How to Pickle Beets

Pickling beets is easy. A little time consuming, but easy. I sowed beets for the first time this year and they grew extremely well, better than just about anything else in my garden. Trying new things in the garden and discovering a successful plant is great, but trying to figure out how to deal with a bumper crop can be a challenge.

There aren't many options when confronted with a few dozen pounds of fresh beets. Like most root crops, beets store very well and can last for months in a cool, damp medium, but even then they have a finite shelf life. Pickling can extend that shelf life dramatically.

Beets in the garden

For eating, most sources recommend beets be harvested while still quite small. For pickling, you can get away with beets being a little larger. Three-inch beets fit canning jars very well. Fresh beets should be pickled; throw any limp or soft ones in the compost pile.

A portion of my beet harvest

After selecting and harvesting your beets, wash and scrub them well. Cut off the greens leaving one to two inches of the stems in place. Leave the root intact or trim off just the end to minimize the red bleeding out.

Preparing a beet

Put the beets in a large pot, cover with water, and boil for 30 to 45 minutes; less for small beets, more for larger. Beets are quite dense and boiling helps soften them for the pickling process.

Boiling beets

After boiling, place them in an ice bath or rinse with cold water. This makes it easy to remove the skins, which is an important step. Cut the stems and roots off and remove the skin. You can peel the skin with your fingers, rub the beet with a paper towel, or use a soft cloth. Your fingers will get red from residual juice but it washes off easily.

Removing skin is easy

After the beets are cooked and skinned, cut them into slices about 1/4 inch thick and place them in a pot of hot pickling solution.

Sliced beets added to pickling solution

The pickling juice is a basic ratio of two parts vinegar, one part water, one part sugar, and spices of your choosing. For about six pounds of beets use four cups vinegar, two cups water, and two cups of sugar. You can add three or four tablespoons of pickling spice; or 4-8 cinnamon sticks and 10-12 whole cloves; or onion slices, cinnamon sticks, cloves, and 10-12 allspice nuts; or three to four tablespoons of caraway seeds and one or two tablespoons of whole black peppercorns. You can either place the spices directly in the liquid or wrap them in cheesecloth or a spice bag. When using a bag, the spices infuse their flavor into the solution and then you remove them. If you leave them in the liquid they'll continue releasing flavor during the pickling process which can make for more intense spiciness.

After combining the vinegar, water, sugar, and spices, bring the solution to a boil over medium heat and boil gently for 10 to 15 minutes. Discard the bag, if using one. Add the sliced beets and return the mixture to a boil.

Using a slotted spoon, place the beets in prepared, hot, canning jars, leaving at least 1/2 inch of space at the top. Ladle in hot pickling juice, leaving 1/2 inch headspace. Use a plastic tool or spoon to remove air bubbles and add more liquid as necessary to maintain 1/2 inch headspace. Wipe the rim of the jar with a moist paper towel, place a lid on the jar, and secure it finger-tight with the band.

Beets in jar

Place jars in your canner making sure they're completely covered by water. They'll be processed for a long time so I recommend at least two inches of water covering them. Bring the water to a full boil (covering the pot helps) and begin timing. Process for 30 minutes, or up to 45 minutes for people like me who live above 6,000 feet. After processing, turn off heat, let the jars rest for about five minutes, and remove them. Place them in a draft-free spot overnight and check the seal the next day.

Finished jars looking good

Pickled beets will last for many months on the shelf and look beautiful in the jars. They're a great way to enjoy your harvest throughout the year and they make great gifts. Like most things from the garden, personally preserved products taste better than the mass-produced foods you buy in the store.
Pickling beets is easy. A little time consuming, but easy. I sowed beets for the first time this year and they grew extremely well, better than just about anything else in my garden. Trying new things in the garden and discovering a successful plant is great, but trying to figure out how to deal with a bumper crop can be a challenge.

There aren't many options when confronted with a few dozen pounds of fresh beets. Like most root crops, beets store very well and can last for months in a cool, damp medium, but even then they have a finite shelf life. Pickling can extend that shelf life dramatically.

Beets in the garden

For eating, most sources recommend beets be harvested while still quite small. For pickling, you can get away with beets being a little larger. Three-inch beets fit canning jars very well. Fresh beets should be pickled; throw any limp or soft ones in the compost pile.

A portion of my beet harvest

After selecting and harvesting your beets, wash and scrub them well. Cut off the greens leaving one to two inches of the stems in place. Leave the root intact or trim off just the end to minimize the red bleeding out.

Preparing a beet

Put the beets in a large pot, cover with water, and boil for 30 to 45 minutes; less for small beets, more for larger. Beets are quite dense and boiling helps soften them for the pickling process.

Boiling beets

After boiling, place them in an ice bath or rinse with cold water. This makes it easy to remove the skins, which is an important step. Cut the stems and roots off and remove the skin. You can peel the skin with your fingers, rub the beet with a paper towel, or use a soft cloth. Your fingers will get red from residual juice but it washes off easily.

Removing skin is easy

After the beets are cooked and skinned, cut them into slices about 1/4 inch thick and place them in a pot of hot pickling solution.

Sliced beets added to pickling solution

The pickling juice is a basic ratio of two parts vinegar, one part water, one part sugar, and spices of your choosing. For about six pounds of beets use four cups vinegar, two cups water, and two cups of sugar. You can add three or four tablespoons of pickling spice; or 4-8 cinnamon sticks and 10-12 whole cloves; or onion slices, cinnamon sticks, cloves, and 10-12 allspice nuts; or three to four tablespoons of caraway seeds and one or two tablespoons of whole black peppercorns. You can either place the spices directly in the liquid or wrap them in cheesecloth or a spice bag. When using a bag, the spices infuse their flavor into the solution and then you remove them. If you leave them in the liquid they'll continue releasing flavor during the pickling process which can make for more intense spiciness.

After combining the vinegar, water, sugar, and spices, bring the solution to a boil over medium heat and boil gently for 10 to 15 minutes. Discard the bag, if using one. Add the sliced beets and return the mixture to a boil.

Using a slotted spoon, place the beets in prepared, hot, canning jars, leaving at least 1/2 inch of space at the top. Ladle in hot pickling juice, leaving 1/2 inch headspace. Use a plastic tool or spoon to remove air bubbles and add more liquid as necessary to maintain 1/2 inch headspace. Wipe the rim of the jar with a moist paper towel, place a lid on the jar, and secure it finger-tight with the band.

Beets in jar

Place jars in your canner making sure they're completely covered by water. They'll be processed for a long time so I recommend at least two inches of water covering them. Bring the water to a full boil (covering the pot helps) and begin timing. Process for 30 minutes, or up to 45 minutes for people like me who live above 6,000 feet. After processing, turn off heat, let the jars rest for about five minutes, and remove them. Place them in a draft-free spot overnight and check the seal the next day.

Finished jars looking good

Pickled beets will last for many months on the shelf and look beautiful in the jars. They're a great way to enjoy your harvest throughout the year and they make great gifts. Like most things from the garden, personally preserved products taste better than the mass-produced foods you buy in the store.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Choosing Garlic for the Garden

Garlic is an essential culinary component in our household. Also, it's a nearly essential component in my garden. Like many vegetable garden crops, harvesting garlic and using it in your kitchen just seems to make it taste better. My famous pickled green beans rise to another level when I make them with green beans, dill, and garlic from my garden.

Garlic from the market

Garlic is a member of the Allium family. That family includes many edible bulbs like onions, shallots, and leeks. It also includes Giant Allium flowers. All of them can send up long stalks with a star-burst flower that will produce seeds. This year I'm growing onions, shallots, and leeks from seed and they're all doing well. Garlic, however, is best grown from cloves.

Each garlic bulb consists of many individual cloves. Each of these cloves has the potential of growing into a single garlic plant, forming a new bulb. Those new bulbs will have multiple cloves with each of those able to grow and develop into a plant. In that way, garlic is a self-sustaining plant that doesn't require pollinators or other special propagation methods. That simplicity makes garlic easy to grow in the garden.

What makes garlic different from many other vegetable crops is that it is best planted in the fall. Cold temperatures are needed to initiate the growth of the buds that will form into cloves. The plant will overwinter in the soil and emerge in spring. Bulbs will continue to grow in size until they're ready to harvest in early to late summer. You can get away with very early spring planting in some areas, but the bulbs may not fully develop by harvest time.

Choosing what kind of garlic to grow may seem daunting when you look at a catalog (Territorial Seed Company offers 29 different ones), but it really comes down to a simple choice. There are just two basic garlic types: soft neck and hard neck.

Chances are if you bought garlic in a store it was a soft neck variety. This is the garlic that tastes like garlic. Softneck garlic has a white, papery skin, has many cloves around a central core, and keeps well for a long time, up to nine months. The plant stalk is flexible and allows the bulbs to be braided together, a decorative method of storing them. There are many types of softneck garlic with "silverskin" and "artichoke" being the most common.

Hardneck garlic can be found at some specialty chef and food stores. Many different flavors and colors exist. The bulbs have fewer cloves than soft neck and may not have any skin around them. They're less hardy and have a shorter shelf life than soft neck varieties. They're called hardneck garlic because the stalk is not flexible and remains rigid. The three main types of hardneck garlic are "purple stripe", "rocambole", and "porcelain".

Generally, for most home gardeners I recommend growing softneck varieties. This is the garlic you're familiar with, will store best after harvest, and the soft stalks are fun to braid and look cool hanging on the kitchen wall. Hard neck garlic can be finicky when it comes to weather and may not survive extreme conditions. The lack of an outer paper skin means you need to handle them with more care, though they are easier to peel when it comes time to cook.

You can grow purple, red, blue, and pink garlic. There are mild ones and spicy ones. You'll find little ones and big ones. But not all types will do well in your garden. Some varieties do better in cold regions while some do better in warm. Some garlic is ready for harvest in early summer while some isn't ready until late. With a little research you can find a garlic that meets your specific taste and growing requirements. Or you can go with common varieties that do well in many gardens.

When you seek garlic in a nursery or online site, you'll probably find names like Early Italian, Spanish Roja, and Inchelium Red. Those are among the three most popular varieties. I've ordered Inchelium Red for planting in my garden in about a month; it is a national taste-test winner. Spanish Roja is the most popular hardneck variety with a taste many consider truly garlicky. Popular Italian Late, Oregon Blue, and Susanville are softneck varieties that range from pungent to mild in taste.

"Elephant Garlic" is quite popular because it produces bulbs as big as a softball, but it is not true garlic. It is related more to leeks than to garlic. Though it looks like a big garlic clove and the assumption is that it will have a strong garlic flavor, it is actually more subtle. Just as a leek is milder tasting than an onion, elephant garlic is milder than  regular garlic.

Ordering online is an easy way to get your bulbs but you can also find them in nurseries and garden centers. When selecting bulbs for planting, they should be dry, plump, and firm. Soft and spongy or dry and crumbly bulbs should be avoided. Choose ones that don't have a green shoot appearing from the top; those are older and may not do as well when planted.

You can take cloves from standard bulbs you buy in the supermarket, plant them, and they may grow. However, unless they're labeled as organic they were probably sprayed with a chemical to keep them from sprouting while in transit and storage. That same chemical can keep them from sprouting in your garden. Also, they were probably grown in California or China in weather and climate different from yours.

Ask your fellow gardeners, your Extension office, or the folks at the nursery for which garlic does best in your area. Many sources can give background information about varieties you may be interested in. Inchelium Red was discovered on the Colville Indian reservation in northern Washington, an area near my father and his wife's home. I chose it because of that connection, because of its taste, and because it can handle cold winters.

Take a little time and look into the garlic varieties available to you locally and online. Find one or two that interest you and make a purchase. A single bulb will probably have between six and 16 cloves that you can plant. Think about how much garlic you typically use and plan accordingly. You may only need two or three bulbs to provide enough garlic at harvest to last you for many months.

Look to the article on September 12, 2011, for how to plant garlic. Choosing what you'll plant is the first step.
Garlic is an essential culinary component in our household. Also, it's a nearly essential component in my garden. Like many vegetable garden crops, harvesting garlic and using it in your kitchen just seems to make it taste better. My famous pickled green beans rise to another level when I make them with green beans, dill, and garlic from my garden.

Garlic from the market

Garlic is a member of the Allium family. That family includes many edible bulbs like onions, shallots, and leeks. It also includes Giant Allium flowers. All of them can send up long stalks with a star-burst flower that will produce seeds. This year I'm growing onions, shallots, and leeks from seed and they're all doing well. Garlic, however, is best grown from cloves.

Each garlic bulb consists of many individual cloves. Each of these cloves has the potential of growing into a single garlic plant, forming a new bulb. Those new bulbs will have multiple cloves with each of those able to grow and develop into a plant. In that way, garlic is a self-sustaining plant that doesn't require pollinators or other special propagation methods. That simplicity makes garlic easy to grow in the garden.

What makes garlic different from many other vegetable crops is that it is best planted in the fall. Cold temperatures are needed to initiate the growth of the buds that will form into cloves. The plant will overwinter in the soil and emerge in spring. Bulbs will continue to grow in size until they're ready to harvest in early to late summer. You can get away with very early spring planting in some areas, but the bulbs may not fully develop by harvest time.

Choosing what kind of garlic to grow may seem daunting when you look at a catalog (Territorial Seed Company offers 29 different ones), but it really comes down to a simple choice. There are just two basic garlic types: soft neck and hard neck.

Chances are if you bought garlic in a store it was a soft neck variety. This is the garlic that tastes like garlic. Softneck garlic has a white, papery skin, has many cloves around a central core, and keeps well for a long time, up to nine months. The plant stalk is flexible and allows the bulbs to be braided together, a decorative method of storing them. There are many types of softneck garlic with "silverskin" and "artichoke" being the most common.

Hardneck garlic can be found at some specialty chef and food stores. Many different flavors and colors exist. The bulbs have fewer cloves than soft neck and may not have any skin around them. They're less hardy and have a shorter shelf life than soft neck varieties. They're called hardneck garlic because the stalk is not flexible and remains rigid. The three main types of hardneck garlic are "purple stripe", "rocambole", and "porcelain".

Generally, for most home gardeners I recommend growing softneck varieties. This is the garlic you're familiar with, will store best after harvest, and the soft stalks are fun to braid and look cool hanging on the kitchen wall. Hard neck garlic can be finicky when it comes to weather and may not survive extreme conditions. The lack of an outer paper skin means you need to handle them with more care, though they are easier to peel when it comes time to cook.

You can grow purple, red, blue, and pink garlic. There are mild ones and spicy ones. You'll find little ones and big ones. But not all types will do well in your garden. Some varieties do better in cold regions while some do better in warm. Some garlic is ready for harvest in early summer while some isn't ready until late. With a little research you can find a garlic that meets your specific taste and growing requirements. Or you can go with common varieties that do well in many gardens.

When you seek garlic in a nursery or online site, you'll probably find names like Early Italian, Spanish Roja, and Inchelium Red. Those are among the three most popular varieties. I've ordered Inchelium Red for planting in my garden in about a month; it is a national taste-test winner. Spanish Roja is the most popular hardneck variety with a taste many consider truly garlicky. Popular Italian Late, Oregon Blue, and Susanville are softneck varieties that range from pungent to mild in taste.

"Elephant Garlic" is quite popular because it produces bulbs as big as a softball, but it is not true garlic. It is related more to leeks than to garlic. Though it looks like a big garlic clove and the assumption is that it will have a strong garlic flavor, it is actually more subtle. Just as a leek is milder tasting than an onion, elephant garlic is milder than  regular garlic.

Ordering online is an easy way to get your bulbs but you can also find them in nurseries and garden centers. When selecting bulbs for planting, they should be dry, plump, and firm. Soft and spongy or dry and crumbly bulbs should be avoided. Choose ones that don't have a green shoot appearing from the top; those are older and may not do as well when planted.

You can take cloves from standard bulbs you buy in the supermarket, plant them, and they may grow. However, unless they're labeled as organic they were probably sprayed with a chemical to keep them from sprouting while in transit and storage. That same chemical can keep them from sprouting in your garden. Also, they were probably grown in California or China in weather and climate different from yours.

Ask your fellow gardeners, your Extension office, or the folks at the nursery for which garlic does best in your area. Many sources can give background information about varieties you may be interested in. Inchelium Red was discovered on the Colville Indian reservation in northern Washington, an area near my father and his wife's home. I chose it because of that connection, because of its taste, and because it can handle cold winters.

Take a little time and look into the garlic varieties available to you locally and online. Find one or two that interest you and make a purchase. A single bulb will probably have between six and 16 cloves that you can plant. Think about how much garlic you typically use and plan accordingly. You may only need two or three bulbs to provide enough garlic at harvest to last you for many months.

Look to the article on September 12, 2011, for how to plant garlic. Choosing what you'll plant is the first step.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Know Your First Frost Date

It's a bit depressing to think about snow and frost while the flowers are blooming and the birds are singing, but late summer is the time to look ahead to cold temperatures and garden decline. Knowing your first frost date should be part of your garden planning. The first frost date is as important for fall gardening as last frost date is for spring gardening.

Cucumbers after the first frost

Most warm season plants can't handle a hint of freezing temperatures and the first frost can be devastating to them. The first first date is effectively the end of their season. Many gardeners do their planting in the spring, but a number of vegetables, flowers, and trees do best when planted in the fall and planning based on the first frost date is very important for their success.

Frost in my garden can arrive as soon as a month from now. Six weeks from now it's likely. In two months I can expect the nights to drop below freezing with regularity. While many serious gardeners can recite their last frost date, very few can do more than guess their first frost date.

The first frost date is the average date, based on years of local climate data, when you can expect the temperature to drop below freezing for the first time. A good place to start in finding yours is to go to the National Climatic Data Center and NOAA website. Your local Extension office or website should have specific information about your neighborhood (here is Colorado's); it often varies slightly from NOAA's information.

Like the last frost date in the spring, your first frost date is officially three different dates. When you look up your frost frost date you'll find one each for 10 percent, 50 percent, and 90 percent probability. On the first first frost date there is a 10 percent historical record of freezing temperatures hitting before that date. The second first frost date is also called the average first frost date; 50 percent of freezing occurrences happened before that date and 50 percent after. The final first frost date records the point when 90 percent of historical frosts have already occurred. How you use these dates varies depending on what and how you're gardening.

For warm season plants I use first frost date in a similar manner as I use last frost date. In the spring I use the 10 percent date to determine planting and sowing. That's the calendar date after which only 10 percent of frosts have occurred; in other words, the weather is getting warmer and there is decreasing likelihood that freezing weather will occur after that point. In the fall for the 10 percent first frost date, it's getting colder but historically only 10 percent of freezing nights have occurred before that date. There is increasing likelihood of freezing temperatures after that point.

The 10 percent first frost date for Colorado Springs is 20 September (according to CSU Extension it's 18 September). That's when I can expect my tomatoes, peppers, beans, and other warm season plants to begin the slow march toward an unwelcome demise. It's not written in stone, but it's a target for me to begin looking closely at weather forecasts. That's the time when I should have my hoop houses and mini greenhouses back in place to help protect the plants from occasional low temperatures.

For cool season plants the 10 percent date presents little concern. An occasional frost rarely affects them adversely and can actually improve the flavor of many. I also use that date as a target to have my fall plants in the ground. The soil will still be warm enough for root crops, bulbs, trees, and many cool season seeds to develop.

Two weeks later on 3 October the historical 50 percent first frost date hits (6 October for Extension). That's the average first frost date and is the date that many catalogs and gardening manuals are referencing when they say to plant fall plants at a certain point before the first frost. After that time the soil can be expected to be below effective germination temperatures and unprotected warm season plants are almost certainly dead. The tender cool season plants are more likely to see damage after this date.

By my 90 percent first frost date, 15 October (18 October for Extension), the garden is cold whether an official frost has hit or not. It's still a few weeks from the first expected snow, but even with garden extenders like the mini greenhouses warm season plants will probably be too chilled to continue producing. Cool season plants should still be okay and can be expected to continue production.

For my planning purposes I look at the end of September and beginning of October as the time to put most of my gardens to bed for the winter. I want to have fall bulbs, including garlic, planted by then. Many gardening activities like watering and weeding decrease dramatically. Others like removing dead and dying plants increase.

Your first frost date is almost like a negative prognosis from the doctor. You get bad news with a percentage attached. Gardening concerns are not nearly as critical as negative health issues, but similarly, knowing about them allows you to plan for them. Prepare yourself by knowing your first frost date so you're not caught by surprise when an unexpected frost devastates your prize tomatoes. Use it to plan your fall gardening activities. Move to another level of gardening by being better informed.

It's a bit depressing to think about snow and frost while the flowers are blooming and the birds are singing, but late summer is the time to look ahead to cold temperatures and garden decline. Knowing your first frost date should be part of your garden planning. The first frost date is as important for fall gardening as last frost date is for spring gardening.

Cucumbers after the first frost

Most warm season plants can't handle a hint of freezing temperatures and the first frost can be devastating to them. The first first date is effectively the end of their season. Many gardeners do their planting in the spring, but a number of vegetables, flowers, and trees do best when planted in the fall and planning based on the first frost date is very important for their success.

Frost in my garden can arrive as soon as a month from now. Six weeks from now it's likely. In two months I can expect the nights to drop below freezing with regularity. While many serious gardeners can recite their last frost date, very few can do more than guess their first frost date.

The first frost date is the average date, based on years of local climate data, when you can expect the temperature to drop below freezing for the first time. A good place to start in finding yours is to go to the
National Climatic Data Center and NOAA website. Your local Extension office or website should have specific information about your neighborhood (here is Colorado's); it often varies slightly from NOAA's information.

Like the last frost date in the spring, your first frost date is officially three different dates. When you look up your frost frost date you'll find one each for 10 percent, 50 percent, and 90 percent probability. On the first first frost date there is a 10 percent historical record of freezing temperatures hitting before that date. The second first frost date is also called the average first frost date; 50 percent of freezing occurrences happened before that date and 50 percent after. The final first frost date records the point when 90 percent of historical frosts have already occurred. How you use these dates varies depending on what and how you're gardening.

For warm season plants I use first frost date in a similar manner as I use last frost date. In the spring I use the 10 percent date to determine planting and sowing. That's the calendar date after which only 10 percent of frosts have occurred; in other words, the weather is getting warmer and there is decreasing likelihood that freezing weather will occur after that point. In the fall for the 10 percent first frost date, it's getting colder but historically only 10 percent of freezing nights have occurred before that date. There is increasing likelihood of freezing temperatures after that point.

The 10 percent first frost date for Colorado Springs is 20 September (according to CSU Extension it's 18 September). That's when I can expect my tomatoes, peppers, beans, and other warm season plants to begin the slow march toward an unwelcome demise. It's not written in stone, but it's a target for me to begin looking closely at weather forecasts. That's the time when I should have my hoop houses and mini greenhouses back in place to help protect the plants from occasional low temperatures.

For cool season plants the 10 percent date presents little concern. An occasional frost rarely affects them adversely and can actually improve the flavor of many. I also use that date as a target to have my fall plants in the ground. The soil will still be warm enough for root crops, bulbs, trees, and many cool season seeds to develop.

Two weeks later on 3 October the historical 50 percent first frost date hits (6 October for Extension). That's the average first frost date and is the date that many catalogs and gardening manuals are referencing when they say to plant fall plants at a certain point before the first frost. After that time the soil can be expected to be below effective germination temperatures and unprotected warm season plants are almost certainly dead. The tender cool season plants are more likely to see damage after this date.

By my 90 percent first frost date, 15 October (18 October for Extension), the garden is cold whether an official frost has hit or not. It's still a few weeks from the first expected snow, but even with garden extenders like the mini greenhouses warm season plants will probably be too chilled to continue producing. Cool season plants should still be okay and can be expected to continue production.

For my planning purposes I look at the end of September and beginning of October as the time to put most of my gardens to bed for the winter. I want to have fall bulbs, including garlic, planted by then. Many gardening activities like watering and weeding decrease dramatically. Others like removing dead and dying plants increase.

Your first frost date is almost like a negative prognosis from the doctor. You get bad news with a percentage attached. Gardening concerns are not nearly as critical as negative health issues, but similarly, knowing about them allows you to plan for them. Prepare yourself by knowing your first frost date so you're not caught by surprise when an unexpected frost devastates your prize tomatoes. Use it to plan your fall gardening activities. Move to another level of gardening by being better informed.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

How to Propagate Lilies

Propagating lilies is easy. Though the image of an eccentric English lord patiently growing rare jungle lilies in a Victorian greenhouse may be intimidating, the reality is that garden lilies can be propagated with very little fuss. Asian lilies, Oriental Lilies, Tiger Lilies, and American hybrids all can be propagated in the garden.

Beautiful lilies... and I want more

When cared for and left to themselves, lilies will quickly spread out and can fill a garden bed over the period of a few seasons. When a gardener intervenes to propagate them, the process is accelerated and new plants can be strategically and deliberately placed. Early fall is a good time to propagate lilies.

By their basic nature, lilies want to multiply and have evolved to do so in a number of different ways. Many plants will multiply through just a couple processes, but lilies offer no less than six methods of propagation. All are easy enough for any amateur gardener to undertake.

Propagating lilies by seed is an obvious method, but takes longer than the others. Letting the flowers go to seed and then collecting it is simple, but the plants require more time to fully develop from seed. It may be a few years before you see flowers. Professional growers and dedicated amateurs will cross pollinate different species to collect seed and develop new hybrids. While this may be a fun way to propagate lilies, it isn't something most gardeners need to do, especially since their are better and faster methods.

Division is a propagation method most gardeners are familiar with and perfectly suited for lilies. Lilies grow from bulbs. As the plant matures, the bulb grows to a certain size and naturally splits to create a clone. It divides into two bulbs with the divisions called offsets. Each offset will grow into a separate lily plant. If left alone in the garden, each of the offsets will eventually split into new bulbs. This process eventually results in a clump of lily plants.

Propagating from the first division is easy. You can see this in your garden by looking for two plants emerging from the soil very close to each other. Carefully digging up the plant reveals the two bulbs. They're still connected but are easily separated by hand or with a sharp knife. Each of the individual plants with bulb attached can be planted and will continue to grow. It's best to do this after the plant has flowered so all of the plant's energy will be focused on root development.

Offsets that are now two plants

Separating just two offsets works well, but you can also dig up a clump of lilies and carefully separate each bulb for planting. Clumps may not come apart as easily as just two bulbs and often requires cutting apart the thickest sections. To keep your lily bed balanced and healthy, you should divide clumps periodically.

Some species of lilies, particularly Tiger Lilies, offer propagation with bulbils. Bulbils are small, round, dark-colored, mini bulbs that grow on the plant at the junction of leaves and stems. Each bulbil can be pulled from the plant and planted in the ground. If left in place long enough they may even begin to grow roots and sprout right on the plant. In a natural setting, they fall to the ground and grow where they land. Bulbils will grow faster than seeds. I don't grow Tiger Lilies and haven't tried planting bulbils, but it's about as easy as it gets.

You can also lay a lily stalk with bulbils horizontally on the ground and cover it with soil. A new plant will grow from each bulbil. Remember that not all lily species develop bulbils so if you don't see them don't be upset.

A method I like is propagating with bulblets. Bulblets are young bulbs that develop underground along the stem root between the primary bulb and the soil surface. Though smaller than mature bulbs, they'll grow into full plants. Dig up the lily, snap off each of the small bulblets growing along the roots, and place the main plant back in the ground. Or you can leave the plant in place and carefully remove the soil below it, digging down to the bulb. Along the way you'll see the little, light bulblets.

Bulblets on the roots

The bulblets can be planted pointy end up anywhere you want another plant. Wait until a few weeks after flowering before collecting them; this allows the bulblets to develop and increase in size. Ideally you should have at least two months of temperatures above freezing for the bulblets to begin growing in the soil. You probably won't see any growth above the surface in the fall, but in the spring a new plant should emerge where each bulblet is planted.

Bulblets all along the stem root

In cold regions you can harvest the bulblets and grow them over the winter for transplanting in spring. Most lily bulbs require between three and six weeks of cold temperatures before they'll grow leaves. They'll get that naturally outside, but for bulblets that you want to grow inside, place them in a plastic bag and put it in the refrigerator for at least a month before potting them up. Then you can grow them like any household plant before transplanting later.

The fifth method of propagation is with scales. This method requires a little more effort but is the one that can produce the most new plants from a single parent. Lily bulbs consist of overlapping scales and each scale has the potential of developing into a new plant. Wait until after the plant has flowered to collect scales. Like with bulblets, you can either dig up the plant or carefully remove soil down to the primary bulb. Carefully remove the scales from the outer layer of the main bulb. Removing eight or ten scales from the bulb shouldn't harm a mature lily. When you break off the scales try to ensure you have a section of the bulb base, the basal plate, attached to each scale. This is where the roots form.

Bulblets also consist of scales. You can collect the bulblets and then separate them into the individual scales but they may not be as developed as scales from the main bulb.

Lily scales

After collecting the scales, wash them and place them in a plastic bag filled with moist vermiculite, peat, or potting soil. Place them in a warm, lighted area and in a month or two little bulblets will begin forming along the basal plate. Like with bulblets from along the stem root, cold soaking is needed before leaves and a plant will grow, so after this period of development put the bag in the refrigerator.

Scales bagged up
You can also put the scales directly into a moist growing medium with about a third of the pointy end above the surface. Over the course of the same period, bulblets will begin to form. After another month in the cold they'll be ready for potting.

After either of these preparation methods, these new bulblets can be separated from the scale and planted in individual pots. Over the winter the plants will begin growing and should be ready to place in the ground in the spring. Don't expect flowers from these plants in the first year but after a few seasons you won't know which lilies came from scales or bulblets, or full-size bulbs.

The final propagation method is common to many other garden plants. You can propagate using the stems or leaves too. Pull off a leaf with a little stem tissue attached, dip it in rooting hormone, and put in in wet sand or a moist potting soil. Or take a stem piece and do the same. After about a month a little bulb and roots will form. The little bulb can be transplanted and treated as a new plant.

With any propagation method you should start with healthy, disease-free plants. If your lily is infected with a virus, each of the offsets, bulbils, bulblets, or scales will be infected too; viruses are not spread in seed. If you have a diseased plant it's best that you discard it rather than try to propagate it. You can also coat the bulbils, bulblets, and scales with a fungicide before planting if you have a problem with fungus.

For an orderly planting it helps to label the result of the propagation so you know which plant is where. Or you can do as I often do and randomly pick spots for random bulbs, letting chance select the best location. That results in different colors spattered throughout the bed. Either way you'll have ample new plants to fill in bare spots by using any of the easy lily propagation methods.
Propagating lilies is easy. Though the image of an eccentric English lord patiently growing rare jungle lilies in a Victorian greenhouse may be intimidating, the reality is that garden lilies can be propagated with very little fuss. Asian lilies, Oriental Lilies, Tiger Lilies, and American hybrids all can be propagated in the garden.

Beautiful lilies... and I want more

When cared for and left to themselves, lilies will quickly spread out and can fill a garden bed over the period of a few seasons. When a gardener intervenes to propagate them, the process is accelerated and new plants can be strategically and deliberately placed. Early fall is a good time to propagate lilies.

By their basic nature, lilies want to multiply and have evolved to do so in a number of different ways. Many plants will multiply through just a couple processes, but lilies offer no less than six methods of propagation. All are easy enough for any amateur gardener to undertake.

Propagating lilies by seed is an obvious method, but takes longer than the others. Letting the flowers go to seed and then collecting it is simple, but the plants require more time to fully develop from seed. It may be a few years before you see flowers. Professional growers and dedicated amateurs will cross pollinate different species to collect seed and develop new hybrids. While this may be a fun way to propagate lilies, it isn't something most gardeners need to do, especially since their are better and faster methods.

Division is a propagation method most gardeners are familiar with and perfectly suited for lilies. Lilies grow from bulbs. As the plant matures, the bulb grows to a certain size and naturally splits to create a clone. It divides into two bulbs with the divisions called offsets. Each offset will grow into a separate lily plant. If left alone in the garden, each of the offsets will eventually split into new bulbs. This process eventually results in a clump of lily plants.

Propagating from the first division is easy. You can see this in your garden by looking for two plants emerging from the soil very close to each other. Carefully digging up the plant reveals the two bulbs. They're still connected but are easily separated by hand or with a sharp knife. Each of the individual plants with bulb attached can be planted and will continue to grow. It's best to do this after the plant has flowered so all of the plant's energy will be focused on root development.

Offsets that are now two plants

Separating just two offsets works well, but you can also dig up a clump of lilies and carefully separate each bulb for planting. Clumps may not come apart as easily as just two bulbs and often requires cutting apart the thickest sections. To keep your lily bed balanced and healthy, you should divide clumps periodically.

Some species of lilies, particularly Tiger Lilies, offer propagation with bulbils. Bulbils are small, round, dark-colored, mini bulbs that grow on the plant at the junction of leaves and stems. Each bulbil can be pulled from the plant and planted in the ground. If left in place long enough they may even begin to grow roots and sprout right on the plant. In a natural setting, they fall to the ground and grow where they land. Bulbils will grow faster than seeds. I don't grow Tiger Lilies and haven't tried planting bulbils, but it's about as easy as it gets.

You can also lay a lily stalk with bulbils horizontally on the ground and cover it with soil. A new plant will grow from each bulbil. Remember that not all lily species develop bulbils so if you don't see them don't be upset.

A method I like is propagating with bulblets. Bulblets are young bulbs that develop underground along the stem root between the primary bulb and the soil surface. Though smaller than mature bulbs, they'll grow into full plants. Dig up the lily, snap off each of the small bulblets growing along the roots, and place the main plant back in the ground. Or you can leave the plant in place and carefully remove the soil below it, digging down to the bulb. Along the way you'll see the little, light bulblets.

Bulblets on the roots

The bulblets can be planted pointy end up anywhere you want another plant. Wait until a few weeks after flowering before collecting them; this allows the bulblets to develop and increase in size. Ideally you should have at least two months of temperatures above freezing for the bulblets to begin growing in the soil. You probably won't see any growth above the surface in the fall, but in the spring a new plant should emerge where each bulblet is planted.

Bulblets all along the stem root

In cold regions you can harvest the bulblets and grow them over the winter for transplanting in spring. Most lily bulbs require between three and six weeks of cold temperatures before they'll grow leaves. They'll get that naturally outside, but for bulblets that you want to grow inside, place them in a plastic bag and put it in the refrigerator for at least a month before potting them up. Then you can grow them like any household plant before transplanting later.

The fifth method of propagation is with scales. This method requires a little more effort but is the one that can produce the most new plants from a single parent. Lily bulbs consist of overlapping scales and each scale has the potential of developing into a new plant. Wait until after the plant has flowered to collect scales. Like with bulblets, you can either dig up the plant or carefully remove soil down to the primary bulb. Carefully remove the scales from the outer layer of the main bulb. Removing eight or ten scales from the bulb shouldn't harm a mature lily. When you break off the scales try to ensure you have a section of the bulb base, the basal plate, attached to each scale. This is where the roots form.

Bulblets also consist of scales. You can collect the bulblets and then separate them into the individual scales but they may not be as developed as scales from the main bulb.

Lily scales

After collecting the scales, wash them and place them in a plastic bag filled with moist vermiculite, peat, or potting soil. Place them in a warm, lighted area and in a month or two little bulblets will begin forming along the basal plate. Like with bulblets from along the stem root, cold soaking is needed before leaves and a plant will grow, so after this period of development put the bag in the refrigerator.

Scales bagged up
You can also put the scales directly into a moist growing medium with about a third of the pointy end above the surface. Over the course of the same period, bulblets will begin to form. After another month in the cold they'll be ready for potting.

After either of these preparation methods, these new bulblets can be separated from the scale and planted in individual pots. Over the winter the plants will begin growing and should be ready to place in the ground in the spring. Don't expect flowers from these plants in the first year but after a few seasons you won't know which lilies came from scales or bulblets, or full-size bulbs.

The final propagation method is common to many other garden plants. You can propagate using the stems or leaves too. Pull off a leaf with a little stem tissue attached, dip it in rooting hormone, and put in in wet sand or a moist potting soil. Or take a stem piece and do the same. After about a month a little bulb and roots will form. The little bulb can be transplanted and treated as a new plant.

With any propagation method you should start with healthy, disease-free plants. If your lily is infected with a virus, each of the offsets, bulbils, bulblets, or scales will be infected too; viruses are not spread in seed. If you have a diseased plant it's best that you discard it rather than try to propagate it. You can also coat the bulbils, bulblets, and scales with a fungicide before planting if you have a problem with fungus.

For an orderly planting it helps to label the result of the propagation so you know which plant is where. Or you can do as I often do and randomly pick spots for random bulbs, letting chance select the best location. That results in different colors spattered throughout the bed. Either way you'll have ample new plants to fill in bare spots by using any of the easy lily propagation methods.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Fill Gaps in Your Garden

When your garden is at or close to its growth pinnacle, enjoy the impressive visuals and reward yourself for a job well done. Also take advantage of the opportunity to identify obvious bare spots that you prefer were filled.

There are a number of different approaches to gardening and I subscribe to many of them. In some areas I strive for simplicity and intentionally grow individual plants, well spaced, to accent there presence; my fruit trees fall into this category as they become focal points in various parts of the landscape. In other beds I hope for a mass effect with an explosion of different colors, textures, shapes, and sizes. In some gardens, particularly new ones like mine, it takes awhile before that goal to be reached.


At the peak of the season before plants begin their decline in fall, take the time to analyze your garden beds to determine if they're meeting your expectations. Take pictures. View them from all angles. Be critical of your own design. Identify what you like. Make decisions about what you want to change.


I'm using this time to note specific gaps and holes in my beds that need to be filled with new plants. When I first planted my beds last year I had a plan and placed plants accordingly. Not everything grew as expected. Some died during the harsh winter. Some turned out better than anticipated. Overall, I'm pleased with the results, but there is always room for improvement.


In one bed friends helped me plant dozens of daylilies. Only a portion have made it this far, due primarily to poor stock from the online source and poor storage methods before planting, by me. Most of the plants that survived are doing well, but there aren't as many as I'd like. An analysis of the site shows gaps that I want filled.


Lots of space between the daylilies


Originally I intended the bed to be overflowing with daylilies. The bare spaces between plants now offer me other options. I can plant more daylilies to achieve the original plan, or I can mix it up with something different. The bright yellow Heliopsis nearby is doing great; it's taller than the daylilies but maybe I can plant more of it as a backdrop. The Yarrow at the edge is doing great too; maybe I can add a few of those plants interspersed with the daylilies to create contrast. I can change my original plan easily.



Across the yard I have two daisy clumps that are doing amazingly well. They're a Shasta Daisy variety that overwintered fine while the many echinacea and snapdragons that were planted in the same bed last year failed to return. Obviously the daisies like that spot so I'll reward them by expanding their presence. I'm also thinking of adding other flowers from the same family like Aster, Chrysanthemum, and Calendula; I have a few mums and marigolds in other areas and may move them there.


The daisies are looking good


In another bed my lilies are looking good too. Many of the bulbs we planted didn't grow; same online source, same storage issues. I still want that bed to be filled with lilies so I'll focus energy in that direction and plant more. I'll pick up some end-of-season bargains at the nurseries and get them in the ground soon. I'll also plant next spring. By seeing the gaps in the bed it makes me want to fill them with many more plants.



Room for many more lilies


Another approach in each bed is to leave things alone. Most flowering plants will fill in over time. Daylilies and Daisies can grow quite large in big clumps. A bare space now may provide ample room for them to grow larger later. Other flowers self-sow and spread quickly. I've set the stage for the beds and letting them determine their own growth patterns is definitely an option. In one of my beds red Knautia is spreading rapidly, filling in open space, adding vibrant color to the area; I like the way it looks.


Gardening is a process. Planting according to a plan and then never returning to that plan may work for some people, but not for me and many other gardeners. While letting the flowers in a bed determine their own destiny may be an intentional option for now, without oversight and continual analysis a few plants can overrun and choke out the others, undermining overall intentions. I still like order and want my beds to fulfill certain visions I have for them.


Once you've identified an area that deserves new plants determine the best time for action. Not all plants should be planted in the fall after you've decided to fill in spaces. Spring may be a better time. Sure you have to wait six months or so before acting, but you give the specific plants a better chance at survival. Marking the locations for new plants becomes important.


Whether planting right after your analysis or waiting until spring, use the photos you took (you did take photos didn't you?) as a template. Print the photo and actually draw the new plant on it. It helps to give perspective of how a new plant will look and acts as a treasure map if you have to wait through winter before planting. In spring you pull out the photo, observe where the established plants are in the photo, look for their new green growth in the garden bed, and put new plants in the appropriate spot marked on your map.


Whether changing a plan by adding different plants, expanding a bed with new plants, multiplying the plants already in place, or letting things spread out naturally, by pausing to determine the best course of action you will ultimately improve how your garden looks and how you feel about it. It's often difficult to determine how a garden bed will look in the future and we often choose the wrong time to try and figure that out. When the other plants have reached their peak, it's usually a good time. So look for the gaps and bare spots and decide if you want to do something.



When your garden is at or close to its growth pinnacle, enjoy the impressive visuals and reward yourself for a job well done. Also take advantage of the opportunity to identify obvious bare spots that you prefer were filled.

There are a number of different approaches to gardening and I subscribe to many of them. In some areas I strive for simplicity and intentionally grow individual plants, well spaced, to accent there presence; my fruit trees fall into this category as they become focal points in various parts of the landscape. In other beds I hope for a mass effect with an explosion of different colors, textures, shapes, and sizes. In some gardens, particularly new ones like mine, it takes awhile before that goal to be reached.


At the peak of the season before plants begin their decline in fall, take the time to analyze your garden beds to determine if they're meeting your expectations. Take pictures. View them from all angles. Be critical of your own design. Identify what you like. Make decisions about what you want to change.


I'm using this time to note specific gaps and holes in my beds that need to be filled with new plants. When I first planted my beds last year I had a plan and placed plants accordingly. Not everything grew as expected. Some died during the harsh winter. Some turned out better than anticipated. Overall, I'm pleased with the results, but there is always room for improvement.


In one bed friends helped me plant dozens of daylilies. Only a portion have made it this far, due primarily to poor stock from the online source and poor storage methods before planting, by me. Most of the plants that survived are doing well, but there aren't as many as I'd like. An analysis of the site shows gaps that I want filled.


Lots of space between the daylilies


Originally I intended the bed to be overflowing with daylilies. The bare spaces between plants now offer me other options. I can plant more daylilies to achieve the original plan, or I can mix it up with something different. The bright yellow Heliopsis nearby is doing great; it's taller than the daylilies but maybe I can plant more of it as a backdrop. The Yarrow at the edge is doing great too; maybe I can add a few of those plants interspersed with the daylilies to create contrast. I can change my original plan easily.



Across the yard I have two daisy clumps that are doing amazingly well. They're a Shasta Daisy variety that overwintered fine while the many echinacea and snapdragons that were planted in the same bed last year failed to return. Obviously the daisies like that spot so I'll reward them by expanding their presence. I'm also thinking of adding other flowers from the same family like Aster, Chrysanthemum, and Calendula; I have a few mums and marigolds in other areas and may move them there.


The daisies are looking good


In another bed my lilies are looking good too. Many of the bulbs we planted didn't grow; same online source, same storage issues. I still want that bed to be filled with lilies so I'll focus energy in that direction and plant more. I'll pick up some end-of-season bargains at the nurseries and get them in the ground soon. I'll also plant next spring. By seeing the gaps in the bed it makes me want to fill them with many more plants.



Room for many more lilies


Another approach in each bed is to leave things alone. Most flowering plants will fill in over time. Daylilies and Daisies can grow quite large in big clumps. A bare space now may provide ample room for them to grow larger later. Other flowers self-sow and spread quickly. I've set the stage for the beds and letting them determine their own growth patterns is definitely an option. In one of my beds red Knautia is spreading rapidly, filling in open space, adding vibrant color to the area; I like the way it looks.


Gardening is a process. Planting according to a plan and then never returning to that plan may work for some people, but not for me and many other gardeners. While letting the flowers in a bed determine their own destiny may be an intentional option for now, without oversight and continual analysis a few plants can overrun and choke out the others, undermining overall intentions. I still like order and want my beds to fulfill certain visions I have for them.


Once you've identified an area that deserves new plants determine the best time for action. Not all plants should be planted in the fall after you've decided to fill in spaces. Spring may be a better time. Sure you have to wait six months or so before acting, but you give the specific plants a better chance at survival. Marking the locations for new plants becomes important.


Whether planting right after your analysis or waiting until spring, use the photos you took (you did take photos didn't you?) as a template. Print the photo and actually draw the new plant on it. It helps to give perspective of how a new plant will look and acts as a treasure map if you have to wait through winter before planting. In spring you pull out the photo, observe where the established plants are in the photo, look for their new green growth in the garden bed, and put new plants in the appropriate spot marked on your map.


Whether changing a plan by adding different plants, expanding a bed with new plants, multiplying the plants already in place, or letting things spread out naturally, by pausing to determine the best course of action you will ultimately improve how your garden looks and how you feel about it. It's often difficult to determine how a garden bed will look in the future and we often choose the wrong time to try and figure that out. When the other plants have reached their peak, it's usually a good time. So look for the gaps and bare spots and decide if you want to do something.



Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Try Green Manure

It's not what you think. It's not the fresh contribution from the southern end of a northbound horse. Green manure is the term for a cover crop that is specifically grown to benefit soil. A cover crop consists of a large number of individual plants, usually annuals or biennials, that cover the soil as they grow side by side. The cover crop becomes green manure when it is tilled into the soil. Like animal manure, it adds organic material to soil.

I'm a huge advocate of amending soil. Many of my previous articles reference that dedication. Green manure cover crops provide a great way to amend soil in an easy and productive process during the time you're not actively gardening.

Here's the concept: when your garden beds are finished for the season you plant a cover crop; the plants grow during the fall, winter, or early spring; you till the plants into the soil before planting the primary crop again; the incorporation of these plants into the soil improves its fertility and structure; the next season's plants benefit from the improved conditions provided by this green manure.

There are five beneficial components to a cover crop. The first is erosion protection; the cover crop protects from wind and water erosion. Second is weed suppression; the cover crop keeps weeds from growing on bare soil. Third is nitrogen fixation; some plants, like legumes, store nitrogen in their roots, which becomes available in the soil when the roots die or the plant is tilled into the soil. Fourth is soil structure creation; roots, especially in grasses, exude a substance that helps "glue" together loose soil particles. Lastly, pest insect reduction; the cover crop encourages beneficial insects while reducing harmful insect control measures.

While some perennial grasses can be used as cover crops and achieve many of these benefits in varied areas of the landscape, they aren't best suited as green manure for a flower or vegetable garden. For these type of gardens, the cover crops should be annuals or biennials. You don't want perennial plants regrowing after they've been tilled under.

As you might guess, some plants are better than others to use as green manure. Many of the best and most popular green manure crops are legumes. Because of their nitrogen-fixing ability, legumes can achieve all five aspects of a good cover crop. When they're tilled into the soil, the organic matter breaks down quickly and the nitrogen fixed in the roots boosts soil fertility. Their aggressive roots can also help break up some hard soils.

Legumes have limitations as a cover crop, however. They typically are slow growing and probably won't survive winter temperatures. When they're tilled in in the spring, it may be dead plants rather than active green ones that are added to the soil, though that's not a bad thing. They'll just be younger and smaller than if allowed to fully mature before being killed by a freeze. They're often best suited for early spring planting.

Non-legume cover crops are typically grasses or grains. They don't add nitrogen like legumes, but grow faster and do a better job at weed suppression. When they're tilled into the soil they break down slower, adding more organic matter over a longer period of time. Some can survive winter temperatures, but frozen ground is usually enough to kill many of the annual grasses.

Green manure crops have familiar names and are readily available from nurseries and online seed sources. I'm ordering some of my seeds this year from Territorial Seed Company which has a section of green manure plants in their catalog.

Winter rye, clover, pea, vetch, and fava beans are the cover crops usually mentioned first when you ask a gardening expert about green manure. Alfalfa, oats, winter wheat, canola, and buckwheat often follow in the next breath. Which plants to choose depends on where you live and which ones are best for your climate. Typically, late summer and early fall are the times to begin sowing seeds for fall and winter cover crops.

In late summer I plan to sow hairy vetch and winter rye over much of my open vegetable garden, where corn, beans and squash are currently growing. I can sow the seeds while the other plants are growing and use the straw mulch already in place to help increase soil moisture and assist in seed germination. The first frost will whack the beans and squash, but the cover crop shouldn't be affected. They'll have time to grow and establish before freezing conditions hit. They should overwinter fine. I won't be planting again until next June so I'll have plenty of time to allow some spring growth before tilling them in.

In some of my raised beds I'll sow Fava beans and peas in early spring. Those are the beds where I'll plant my warm season crops. The legumes will add nitrogen to the soil and I'll use a hoe to work them into the soil before I place my tomatoes, peppers, and beans.

You can mix the plants within a cover crop; it doesn't need to consist of a single variety. Grasses grow quickly while legumes provide nitrogen, so plant both in the same bed. Each will provide unique attributes.

When it comes time to till or work the cover crop into the soil, it should be done about three weeks before planting. This allows time for the organic matter to begin decomposing and adding soil nutrients. In warm, wet areas with lots of spring rain, you can do it as late as two weeks before planting. In colder, drier areas, till in about four weeks before planting because it will take longer for the organic material to break down. For spring planting the tilling may need to be done while the soil is still cold. Just be careful not to till if the soil is frozen or too wet.

You want to mow, till, or dig in the cover crop before the plants set seed. The concept is to add nutrients and organic matter to your garden soil not create a nuisance weed. If you allow the cover crop to go to seed, you'll continue to have those plants in your garden, but as competition for the primary garden plants. It works well to mow or cut the cover crop a few days before you plan to till or dig them in. Some of the stems and leaves will begin drying out and that's fine.

Using green manure works just as well in a small garden plot as it does for a large commercial operation. You can plant a cover crop in any garden area. If it's a mulched bed, remove the mulch before sowing seed unless it's a mulch with small pieces that you'll till in along with the cover crop.

I plan my plant rotation among my garden beds with green manure in mind. This year I'm growing peas in one bed. Next spring I'll work the dead pea plants into the soil in that bed and plant something new like green beans. The peas will add nitrogen and organic material to the soil and will benefit the beans. Next year I'll plant my peas in a new bed to benefit another future planting.

Though you grow green manure as a sacrifice to other future plants, you still need to treat them with the same care as the rest of your garden. They need sun, water, and weeding. You want them to grow and mature to achieve the best potential benefit. Snow and spring rain may provide enough moisture to sustain cover crops, but check the soil periodically so they don't dry out and die prematurely.

If your soil can benefit from organic matter and nutrients, and most soils do, consider growing green manure. And having fun telling people about using green manure. It's a great way to stop or start a conversation.

 
It's not what you think. It's not the fresh contribution from the southern end of a northbound horse. Green manure is the term for a cover crop that is specifically grown to benefit soil. A cover crop consists of a large number of individual plants, usually annuals or biennials, that cover the soil as they grow side by side. The cover crop becomes green manure when it is tilled into the soil. Like animal manure, it adds organic material to soil.

I'm a huge advocate of amending soil. Many of my previous articles reference that dedication. Green manure cover crops provide a great way to amend soil in an easy and productive process during the time you're not actively gardening.

Here's the concept: when your garden beds are finished for the season you plant a cover crop; the plants grow during the fall, winter, or early spring; you till the plants into the soil before planting the primary crop again; the incorporation of these plants into the soil improves its fertility and structure; the next season's plants benefit from the improved conditions provided by this green manure.

There are five beneficial components to a cover crop. The first is erosion protection; the cover crop protects from wind and water erosion. Second is weed suppression; the cover crop keeps weeds from growing on bare soil. Third is nitrogen fixation; some plants, like legumes, store nitrogen in their roots, which becomes available in the soil when the roots die or the plant is tilled into the soil. Fourth is soil structure creation; roots, especially in grasses, exude a substance that helps "glue" together loose soil particles. Lastly, pest insect reduction; the cover crop encourages beneficial insects while reducing harmful insect control measures.

While some perennial grasses can be used as cover crops and achieve many of these benefits in varied areas of the landscape, they aren't best suited as green manure for a flower or vegetable garden. For these type of gardens, the cover crops should be annuals or biennials. You don't want perennial plants regrowing after they've been tilled under.

As you might guess, some plants are better than others to use as green manure. Many of the best and most popular green manure crops are legumes. Because of their nitrogen-fixing ability, legumes can achieve all five aspects of a good cover crop. When they're tilled into the soil, the organic matter breaks down quickly and the nitrogen fixed in the roots boosts soil fertility. Their aggressive roots can also help break up some hard soils.

Legumes have limitations as a cover crop, however. They typically are slow growing and probably won't survive winter temperatures. When they're tilled in in the spring, it may be dead plants rather than active green ones that are added to the soil, though that's not a bad thing. They'll just be younger and smaller than if allowed to fully mature before being killed by a freeze. They're often best suited for early spring planting.

Non-legume cover crops are typically grasses or grains. They don't add nitrogen like legumes, but grow faster and do a better job at weed suppression. When they're tilled into the soil they break down slower, adding more organic matter over a longer period of time. Some can survive winter temperatures, but frozen ground is usually enough to kill many of the annual grasses.

Green manure crops have familiar names and are readily available from nurseries and online seed sources. I'm ordering some of my seeds this year from Territorial Seed Company which has a section of green manure plants in their catalog.

Winter rye, clover, pea, vetch, and fava beans are the cover crops usually mentioned first when you ask a gardening expert about green manure. Alfalfa, oats, winter wheat, canola, and buckwheat often follow in the next breath. Which plants to choose depends on where you live and which ones are best for your climate. Typically, late summer and early fall are the times to begin sowing seeds for fall and winter cover crops.

In late summer I plan to sow hairy vetch and winter rye over much of my open vegetable garden, where corn, beans and squash are currently growing. I can sow the seeds while the other plants are growing and use the straw mulch already in place to help increase soil moisture and assist in seed germination. The first frost will whack the beans and squash, but the cover crop shouldn't be affected. They'll have time to grow and establish before freezing conditions hit. They should overwinter fine. I won't be planting again until next June so I'll have plenty of time to allow some spring growth before tilling them in.

In some of my raised beds I'll sow Fava beans and peas in early spring. Those are the beds where I'll plant my warm season crops. The legumes will add nitrogen to the soil and I'll use a hoe to work them into the soil before I place my tomatoes, peppers, and beans.

You can mix the plants within a cover crop; it doesn't need to consist of a single variety. Grasses grow quickly while legumes provide nitrogen, so plant both in the same bed. Each will provide unique attributes.

When it comes time to till or work the cover crop into the soil, it should be done about three weeks before planting. This allows time for the organic matter to begin decomposing and adding soil nutrients. In warm, wet areas with lots of spring rain, you can do it as late as two weeks before planting. In colder, drier areas, till in about four weeks before planting because it will take longer for the organic material to break down. For spring planting the tilling may need to be done while the soil is still cold. Just be careful not to till if the soil is frozen or too wet.

You want to mow, till, or dig in the cover crop before the plants set seed. The concept is to add nutrients and organic matter to your garden soil not create a nuisance weed. If you allow the cover crop to go to seed, you'll continue to have those plants in your garden, but as competition for the primary garden plants. It works well to mow or cut the cover crop a few days before you plan to till or dig them in. Some of the stems and leaves will begin drying out and that's fine.

Using green manure works just as well in a small garden plot as it does for a large commercial operation. You can plant a cover crop in any garden area. If it's a mulched bed, remove the mulch before sowing seed unless it's a mulch with small pieces that you'll till in along with the cover crop.

I plan my plant rotation among my garden beds with green manure in mind. This year I'm growing peas in one bed. Next spring I'll work the dead pea plants into the soil in that bed and plant something new like green beans. The peas will add nitrogen and organic material to the soil and will benefit the beans. Next year I'll plant my peas in a new bed to benefit another future planting.

Though you grow green manure as a sacrifice to other future plants, you still need to treat them with the same care as the rest of your garden. They need sun, water, and weeding. You want them to grow and mature to achieve the best potential benefit. Snow and spring rain may provide enough moisture to sustain cover crops, but check the soil periodically so they don't dry out and die prematurely.

If your soil can benefit from organic matter and nutrients, and most soils do, consider growing green manure. And having fun telling people about using green manure. It's a great way to stop or start a conversation.

 

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Dogs and Tomatoes

Labrador Retrievers love fresh green tomatoes. I've seen no empirical studies on this other than my own. Through the years we've had three Labs:  a Black, a Chocolate, and a Yellow. All of them at one time or another were caught red-pawed with green tomatoes retrieved from the garden. Therefore, I submit that Labs love green tomatoes.

Shaca, the Chocolate Lab, was my garden buddy for many years. In her youth, after a busy and respectful day in the garden, she would prance into the house proudly displaying a large, green tomato between her chompers. A terse response from me usually followed as I removed it. A few minutes later she would return, tail wagging, with another one. She liked that game.

Shaca

As much as she enjoyed it, tomatoes are notoriously difficult to grow along the Front Range of the Rockies in Colorado, and losing large ones late in the season, just before they ripen, is stressful.

Shaca learned to stay out of the garden beds. Whenever I was gardening she would lie in a prime shaded spot along the garden edge and watch me. In my absence, particularly when the squirrels were active, she would forget the boundaries. In addition to pilfered green tomatoes, some plants were occasionally damaged. To minimize garden losses I put a fence up and only allowed her in when I was present. I didn't like the restrictions, but she still had lots of yard to play in.

Rosie, the Black Lab, was much older when she ventured into my garden for the first time. In my new, unfenced garden, she learned to stay out of the raised beds. I only caught her gnawing on a green tomato once or twice after the first frost had already killed the vines. I didn't have a big problem with her retrieving garden refuse and let it go.

Shaca and Rosie

We lost both Shaca and Rosie this last year. Their gardening transgressions are memories, pleasant ones now.

Lily, a Yellow Lab, is new to our household that also includes two older dogs. Lily is the newest garden criminal. She's been in the garden since she was a puppy, which hasn't been long since she's only 10 months old. I no longer have to tell her to get out of the beds. She does a wonderful job of walking the paths and avoiding new plants. But her inner dog was encouraging her to live up to the legacy of Shaca and Rosie.

Young lily

One evening this week we heard her running and pouncing along the deck. Loud scurrying was interspersed with careening against the house and rails. She was attacking a green tomato as it rolled along the wood planks.

It was humorous, or rather it would have been humorous if it wasn't the largest green tomato in the entire garden and was just about to change color. She had plucked it from a plant in a pot on the deck. It was obviously too nice a prize to leave on the vine and she was quite proud of the new toy that was entertaining her.

I was annoyed and a little angry. The next day, though, my deductive light bulb turned on. The answer to the unasked question of why Labs love green tomatoes was suddenly clear. I'd seen Lily behave in the same manner before.

There's a reason Labrador Retrievers are called retrievers. Sticks, stuffed dog toys, and socks are all items Lily loves to fetch. Not all of them on command. She loves to steal my socks in the morning and then bring one to me while I'm searching for them. Shaca would occasionally present me with a dead bird that I suspect one of the other dogs had killed. Rosie would wander in with various items of clothing from the bedroom. Their tails were always wagging joyfully.

Retrieving balls is a special love. A throw across the yard, a breakneck run, a deft snatch, and a speedy return with the prize. Tennis balls are the toy of choice. Their bounce and ease of heft made them perfect for master and dog alike. Nice, green, tennis balls.

Which one is the ball? (See the teeth marks)

It's taken three dogs and many years to realize the similarities between tomatoes and tennis balls. To a dog they're virtually the same thing. Firm, round, and green. I don't recall any of the dogs bringing me juicy, red tomatoes, just the green ones. After a full day when I was ready to relax and enjoy the evening, a young dog's energy is still amped and ready for more play. Dad doesn't want to participate so let's grab one of these balls hanging in the no-no place.

It's difficult to fault an animal for something they do naturally. Retrievers have been bred for generations to retrieve. When we play fetch with an object that could just as easily be a green tomato, can we blame them for finding their own outlet for play. Even if it's our treasured garden.

Netting and fencing will help alleviate the problem in the garden, but I'm not sure if the tomato plant on the deck will ever be safe again. I lose more tomatoes to insects and birds than I do to the dogs so it's not something I'll lose sleep over. And as I think about it, it brings a smile to my face and a tear to my eye.

Dogs are smart. Labs are friendly, loving, playful, and not vindictive at all. It makes perfect sense that they would break life into simple elements:  play, fun, ball. We reward them with praise or treats when they bring back the tennis ball. Why wouldn't they wag their tails and anxiously bring us a green tomato.

I think back to Shaca skipping through the patio door with her prize and it heightens a sense of nostalgia. She was young and eager to please. Lily continues in the same vein, tail wagging, morning sock in mouth, anxious for attention and play. I suspect more green tomatoes will be lost to her sharp mind and desire to entertain herself and me.

I'm okay with that. The cost of a few tomatoes creates priceless memories. She'll lose her puppy mentality soon and before I know it both of us will be too stiff and tired to play fetch. There will always be green tomatoes, but as we've seen with Shaca and Rosie there won't always be Lily. The next time I find her with a green tomato there won't be any harsh words. We'll both enjoy the moment.


  
Labrador Retrievers love fresh green tomatoes. I've seen no empirical studies on this other than my own. Through the years we've had three Labs:  a Black, a Chocolate, and a Yellow. All of them at one time or another were caught red-pawed with green tomatoes retrieved from the garden. Therefore, I submit that Labs love green tomatoes.

Shaca, the Chocolate Lab, was my garden buddy for many years. In her youth, after a busy and respectful day in the garden, she would prance into the house proudly displaying a large, green tomato between her chompers. A terse response from me usually followed as I removed it. A few minutes later she would return, tail wagging, with another one. She liked that game.

Shaca

As much as she enjoyed it, tomatoes are notoriously difficult to grow along the Front Range of the Rockies in Colorado, and losing large ones late in the season, just before they ripen, is stressful.

Shaca learned to stay out of the garden beds. Whenever I was gardening she would lie in a prime shaded spot along the garden edge and watch me. In my absence, particularly when the squirrels were active, she would forget the boundaries. In addition to pilfered green tomatoes, some plants were occasionally damaged. To minimize garden losses I put a fence up and only allowed her in when I was present. I didn't like the restrictions, but she still had lots of yard to play in.

Rosie, the Black Lab, was much older when she ventured into my garden for the first time. In my new, unfenced garden, she learned to stay out of the raised beds. I only caught her gnawing on a green tomato once or twice after the first frost had already killed the vines. I didn't have a big problem with her retrieving garden refuse and let it go.

Shaca and Rosie

We lost both Shaca and Rosie this last year. Their gardening transgressions are memories, pleasant ones now.

Lily, a Yellow Lab, is new to our household that also includes two older dogs. Lily is the newest garden criminal. She's been in the garden since she was a puppy, which hasn't been long since she's only 10 months old. I no longer have to tell her to get out of the beds. She does a wonderful job of walking the paths and avoiding new plants. But her inner dog was encouraging her to live up to the legacy of Shaca and Rosie.

Young lily

One evening this week we heard her running and pouncing along the deck. Loud scurrying was interspersed with careening against the house and rails. She was attacking a green tomato as it rolled along the wood planks.

It was humorous, or rather it would have been humorous if it wasn't the largest green tomato in the entire garden and was just about to change color. She had plucked it from a plant in a pot on the deck. It was obviously too nice a prize to leave on the vine and she was quite proud of the new toy that was entertaining her.

I was annoyed and a little angry. The next day, though, my deductive light bulb turned on. The answer to the unasked question of why Labs love green tomatoes was suddenly clear. I'd seen Lily behave in the same manner before.

There's a reason Labrador Retrievers are called retrievers. Sticks, stuffed dog toys, and socks are all items Lily loves to fetch. Not all of them on command. She loves to steal my socks in the morning and then bring one to me while I'm searching for them. Shaca would occasionally present me with a dead bird that I suspect one of the other dogs had killed. Rosie would wander in with various items of clothing from the bedroom. Their tails were always wagging joyfully.

Retrieving balls is a special love. A throw across the yard, a breakneck run, a deft snatch, and a speedy return with the prize. Tennis balls are the toy of choice. Their bounce and ease of heft made them perfect for master and dog alike. Nice, green, tennis balls.

Which one is the ball? (See the teeth marks)

It's taken three dogs and many years to realize the similarities between tomatoes and tennis balls. To a dog they're virtually the same thing. Firm, round, and green. I don't recall any of the dogs bringing me juicy, red tomatoes, just the green ones. After a full day when I was ready to relax and enjoy the evening, a young dog's energy is still amped and ready for more play. Dad doesn't want to participate so let's grab one of these balls hanging in the no-no place.

It's difficult to fault an animal for something they do naturally. Retrievers have been bred for generations to retrieve. When we play fetch with an object that could just as easily be a green tomato, can we blame them for finding their own outlet for play. Even if it's our treasured garden.

Netting and fencing will help alleviate the problem in the garden, but I'm not sure if the tomato plant on the deck will ever be safe again. I lose more tomatoes to insects and birds than I do to the dogs so it's not something I'll lose sleep over. And as I think about it, it brings a smile to my face and a tear to my eye.

Dogs are smart. Labs are friendly, loving, playful, and not vindictive at all. It makes perfect sense that they would break life into simple elements:  play, fun, ball. We reward them with praise or treats when they bring back the tennis ball. Why wouldn't they wag their tails and anxiously bring us a green tomato.

I think back to Shaca skipping through the patio door with her prize and it heightens a sense of nostalgia. She was young and eager to please. Lily continues in the same vein, tail wagging, morning sock in mouth, anxious for attention and play. I suspect more green tomatoes will be lost to her sharp mind and desire to entertain herself and me.

I'm okay with that. The cost of a few tomatoes creates priceless memories. She'll lose her puppy mentality soon and before I know it both of us will be too stiff and tired to play fetch. There will always be green tomatoes, but as we've seen with Shaca and Rosie there won't always be Lily. The next time I find her with a green tomato there won't be any harsh words. We'll both enjoy the moment.


  

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Coffee in the Garden

I have coffee in my garden. Not sipping the hot bitter beverage while seated in an Adirondack chair, watching the birds, as my wife does in the morning, but using actual bits of coffee beans in and on the soil. Coffee grounds and filters are a regular component of my compost pile and now I've added coffee chaff.

My wife and I had the pleasure of meeting Pat and Abby recently. They're the mother and daughter team that manage Purple Mountain Coffee Company in Colorado Springs providing fresh roasted coffee to the eager locals. Pat is an avid, dedicated, and passionate coffee roaster who exploded with enthusiasm as she showed us how her custom-made coffee roaster works.

Pat's custom coffee roaster
She showed us the barrels and bags of coffee beans from around the world that she has the pleasure of roasting. And she showed us the barrel filled with chaff, a byproduct of the process. Chaff is the outer skin of the coffee bean that frees itself from the inner bean when roasted. It is flaky and fluffy with a light coffee aroma but offers nothing to the roasted beans so is separated and discarded. I saw it as a gardening opportunity. Pat was very willing to let me take the large, black plastic bag filled with chaff.

Coffee bean chaff
The chaff will become part of my compost pile and ultimately my garden soil. It will decompose very quickly due to its small size and light texture and will help the pile turn into compost quickly, but the best part is that it's free and available in large quantities. Pat, and every other coffee roaster, has bags of chaff that is either thrown away or given to eager gardeners.

America's, and much of the world's, favorite morning drink produces huge amounts of discarded organic material. In addition to the chaff from roasters, every day millions of pounds of used coffee grounds are thrown away. Not only is this wasteful, but gardeners who toss away the grounds are missing out on a great gardening opportunity.  Recycled coffee adds nitrogen to soil and compost piles.

Collecting the morning filter and grounds

 Chaff is a new opportunity for me while coffee grounds have been a garden staple of mine for years. I've described coffee grounds as one of the near-perfect compost pile additives. It looks like a brown component but improves the pile like a green (see my article "Compost and Your Compost Pile, Part 1" for what that means). It's an easy and quick way to add nitrogen to a compost pile that may be suffering from too much brown. The small size of the grounds help them incorporate throughout the pile and decompose quickly. And they can be gathered in large quantities for free.

Since 1995, Starbucks has supported the corporate policy of "Grounds for Your Garden". Anyone can take home a free 5-pound bag of used grounds. Many Starbucks have a wire rack filled with the bags and you can grab one without even asking. Many other coffee shops have followed suit and offer used grounds for free to anyone who asks.

With the abundance of free used coffee grounds it makes sense to take advantage of the opportunity because coffee can benefit a garden in many ways.

When sprinkled on top the soil coffee grounds act as a slow-release fertilizer. With every rain or watering, a little nitrogen finds its way into the soil as it leaches from the grounds. They also add phosphorus, potassium, magnesium, and copper.

While fresh, unbrewed grounds are acidic and can exacerbate a high-acid, surface soil problem, used, brewed coffee grounds leave most of the acid in the cup you drink. Only slightly acidic, used grounds may benefit alkaline soils a bit, but really don't pose any problems to soil pH. As they decompose and provide food for microorganisms, the grounds will act like any organic material and actually move the pH toward neutral.

For vermicomposting (using worms to compost) using small amounts of used coffee grounds as worm food is also a good idea. Some worm farmers say their worms like coffee. Regardless of their food preference, worms will eat the  grounds like any other clean organic matter and produce the wonderful soil additive, worm castings.

Coffee grounds will help deter some garden pests. Slugs and snails don't like the gritty texture of coffee grounds and should avoid areas mulched with them. The coffee grounds should deter cats and send them looking to another cat box. Ants are repelled by the smell of coffee grounds and usually avoid areas where they're scattered.

Like compost tea or worm tea, soaking the used grounds in a bucket of water and using the "coffee tea" on your plants as a foliar feed is a good way of adding nitrogen. While only slightly acidic, acid-loving plants like azaleas, hydrangeas, gardenias, and rhododendrons will enjoy the boost.

If you like the smell of coffee, sprinkle the grounds on the soil throughout your garden. In addition to the benefits above they'll make your garden smell like a coffee shop after a summer rain.

Many people have recognized that the office plants that someone regularly pours a coffee cup into look better than the ones with no coffee additives. That's true. Adding coffee to houseplants provides a nitrogen boost, but if the plant is fed a steady stream of full-strength coffee the acidity will ultimately be detrimental. It's better to supplement normal watering with an occasional addition of diluted coffee. Sprinkling some used grounds on the soil in your pots provides the same benefit during normal watering.

Put coffee in your garden. Find someone like Pat to give you bags of coffee chaff for your compost pile, grab a bag of used coffee grounds from Starbucks or another coffee shop for mulch, and use the filter and grounds from your morning cup of Joe in your compost pile too. It's recycling at its best. Abundant and free, this great organic material will benefit your plants.
 
I have coffee in my garden. Not sipping the hot bitter beverage while seated in an Adirondack chair, watching the birds, as my wife does in the morning, but using actual bits of coffee beans in and on the soil. Coffee grounds and filters are a regular component of my compost pile and now I've added coffee chaff.

My wife and I had the pleasure of meeting Pat and Abby recently. They're the mother and daughter team that manage Purple Mountain Coffee Company in Colorado Springs providing fresh roasted coffee to the eager locals. Pat is an avid, dedicated, and passionate coffee roaster who exploded with enthusiasm as she showed us how her custom-made coffee roaster works.

Pat's custom coffee roaster
She showed us the barrels and bags of coffee beans from around the world that she has the pleasure of roasting. And she showed us the barrel filled with chaff, a byproduct of the process. Chaff is the outer skin of the coffee bean that frees itself from the inner bean when roasted. It is flaky and fluffy with a light coffee aroma but offers nothing to the roasted beans so is separated and discarded. I saw it as a gardening opportunity. Pat was very willing to let me take the large, black plastic bag filled with chaff.

Coffee bean chaff
The chaff will become part of my compost pile and ultimately my garden soil. It will decompose very quickly due to its small size and light texture and will help the pile turn into compost quickly, but the best part is that it's free and available in large quantities. Pat, and every other coffee roaster, has bags of chaff that is either thrown away or given to eager gardeners.

America's, and much of the world's, favorite morning drink produces huge amounts of discarded organic material. In addition to the chaff from roasters, every day millions of pounds of used coffee grounds are thrown away. Not only is this wasteful, but gardeners who toss away the grounds are missing out on a great gardening opportunity.  Recycled coffee adds nitrogen to soil and compost piles.

Collecting the morning filter and grounds

 Chaff is a new opportunity for me while coffee grounds have been a garden staple of mine for years. I've described coffee grounds as one of the near-perfect compost pile additives. It looks like a brown component but improves the pile like a green (see my article "Compost and Your Compost Pile, Part 1" for what that means). It's an easy and quick way to add nitrogen to a compost pile that may be suffering from too much brown. The small size of the grounds help them incorporate throughout the pile and decompose quickly. And they can be gathered in large quantities for free.

Since 1995, Starbucks has supported the corporate policy of "Grounds for Your Garden". Anyone can take home a free 5-pound bag of used grounds. Many Starbucks have a wire rack filled with the bags and you can grab one without even asking. Many other coffee shops have followed suit and offer used grounds for free to anyone who asks.

With the abundance of free used coffee grounds it makes sense to take advantage of the opportunity because coffee can benefit a garden in many ways.

When sprinkled on top the soil coffee grounds act as a slow-release fertilizer. With every rain or watering, a little nitrogen finds its way into the soil as it leaches from the grounds. They also add phosphorus, potassium, magnesium, and copper.

While fresh, unbrewed grounds are acidic and can exacerbate a high-acid, surface soil problem, used, brewed coffee grounds leave most of the acid in the cup you drink. Only slightly acidic, used grounds may benefit alkaline soils a bit, but really don't pose any problems to soil pH. As they decompose and provide food for microorganisms, the grounds will act like any organic material and actually move the pH toward neutral.

For vermicomposting (using worms to compost) using small amounts of used coffee grounds as worm food is also a good idea. Some worm farmers say their worms like coffee. Regardless of their food preference, worms will eat the  grounds like any other clean organic matter and produce the wonderful soil additive, worm castings.

Coffee grounds will help deter some garden pests. Slugs and snails don't like the gritty texture of coffee grounds and should avoid areas mulched with them. The coffee grounds should deter cats and send them looking to another cat box. Ants are repelled by the smell of coffee grounds and usually avoid areas where they're scattered.

Like compost tea or worm tea, soaking the used grounds in a bucket of water and using the "coffee tea" on your plants as a foliar feed is a good way of adding nitrogen. While only slightly acidic, acid-loving plants like azaleas, hydrangeas, gardenias, and rhododendrons will enjoy the boost.

If you like the smell of coffee, sprinkle the grounds on the soil throughout your garden. In addition to the benefits above they'll make your garden smell like a coffee shop after a summer rain.

Many people have recognized that the office plants that someone regularly pours a coffee cup into look better than the ones with no coffee additives. That's true. Adding coffee to houseplants provides a nitrogen boost, but if the plant is fed a steady stream of full-strength coffee the acidity will ultimately be detrimental. It's better to supplement normal watering with an occasional addition of diluted coffee. Sprinkling some used grounds on the soil in your pots provides the same benefit during normal watering.

Put coffee in your garden. Find someone like Pat to give you bags of coffee chaff for your compost pile, grab a bag of used coffee grounds from Starbucks or another coffee shop for mulch, and use the filter and grounds from your morning cup of Joe in your compost pile too. It's recycling at its best. Abundant and free, this great organic material will benefit your plants.
 

Monday, August 8, 2011

Hummingbird Photos

Hummingbirds are familiar visitors to my gardens. I've written about them before and will again because I, like most gardeners, find them fascinating. And like so many, I've wanted to photograph the tiny creatures in flight to preserve the image that we find so appealing. That desire is a daunting task because of their fast profile and hesitancy to sit still for a portrait.

The key, not surprisingly, is patience. Often when I saw the birds cavorting near the feeder, I would run inside for the camera and return expecting a quick photograph. It isn't surprising that the hummingbirds were off patrolling another part of their realm by that time. With no photo opportunity I would turn my attention to another section of my garden.

This past weekend I finally achieved my goal. I spotted a small female perched in the branches of the Ponderosa pine tree that holds our primary feeder. This time I quietly backpedaled to the house and softly approached after quickly retrieving the camera.

A hummingbird watching me warily

She was still in the tree, though staying on the opposite side from my position. I resolved to stay put, as frozen as possible, straining to blend in to the the landscape as though I was a permanent fixture. Tentatively, after a lengthy wait, she flew to closer branches, still wary of the new garden statue. It was about 15 minutes before she hovered in front of the feeder.

I snapped a picture. Then another and another. The statue was slowly moving its arms but she didn't seem to mind as she slurped her tongue into the nectar. I lowered the camera to adjust the shutter speed hoping to freeze the wings in mid-flap when her more colorful mate appeared. His arrival sent her away and the flash of unexpected iridescence caused me to raise the camera a little too quickly. He was gone. I froze and waited another 10 minutes or so, but neither returned.

The crowning achievement

Anxious to see the results, I loaded the photos on my computer and was thrilled and amazed to find a few spectacular images. No longer reliant on National Geographic or Audubon magazines, there were hummingbirds from my garden now in my photo library.

Over the course of two days I was able to take a number of pictures of hummingbirds in the trees, at the feeder, and resting on the wire fence. I used a standard Canon digital camera with a zoom feature, nothing fancy. Any birds beyond about six or eight feet away tended to be out of focus or too fuzzy once I enlarged the image. And the images need to be enlarged to see the birds; they are pretty tiny after all.

A different bird on day two

The excitement of catching such a thrilling sight on film (or pixels as it is) is invigorating. With a telephoto lens, tripod, and lots of patience I could achieve magazine quality images, but for me, for now, these simple photos are a great achievement. By being a little patient I captured a unique moment in my garden. A moment that symbolizes much of how and why I garden.

Patience in gardening is something I've written about before. I plant grapes and asparagus knowing it will be three years before I can harvest anything. I plant bareroot fruit trees knowing that many more years will pass before they fill with fruit. I have plans for what I expect my garden to be in five years, and beyond. To me gardening is about the process and the journey.

Planting bird-friendly flowers and hanging seed and liquid feeders offer birds food opportunities, but it doesn't guarantee their imminent arrival. With time they will come. We sit near the garden and enjoy their aerial dances and plumage displays. Each year we see one or two new species that we hadn't seen before.

Now I'm ready to record their populations for posterity. If a hummingbird can be captured in a photo, so too can the finches, doves, jays, and the many others that give us enjoyment. I've snapped a few bird photos before but with little purpose. The possibility of success gives the effort new life. It's not always easy, but great rewards seldom are.

Hummingbirds are a favorite part of my garden, now more so. We wake with their trilling and always look when we see the flash of their flight. The simple notion of them staying still long enough to catch with a camera has awakened other gardening and photographic desires. It's amazing what a great feeling such a small creature can instill.
Hummingbirds are familiar visitors to my gardens. I've written about them before and will again because I, like most gardeners, find them fascinating. And like so many, I've wanted to photograph the tiny creatures in flight to preserve the image that we find so appealing. That desire is a daunting task because of their fast profile and hesitancy to sit still for a portrait.

The key, not surprisingly, is patience. Often when I saw the birds cavorting near the feeder, I would run inside for the camera and return expecting a quick photograph. It isn't surprising that the hummingbirds were off patrolling another part of their realm by that time. With no photo opportunity I would turn my attention to another section of my garden.

This past weekend I finally achieved my goal. I spotted a small female perched in the branches of the Ponderosa pine tree that holds our primary feeder. This time I quietly backpedaled to the house and softly approached after quickly retrieving the camera.

A hummingbird watching me warily

She was still in the tree, though staying on the opposite side from my position. I resolved to stay put, as frozen as possible, straining to blend in to the the landscape as though I was a permanent fixture. Tentatively, after a lengthy wait, she flew to closer branches, still wary of the new garden statue. It was about 15 minutes before she hovered in front of the feeder.

I snapped a picture. Then another and another. The statue was slowly moving its arms but she didn't seem to mind as she slurped her tongue into the nectar. I lowered the camera to adjust the shutter speed hoping to freeze the wings in mid-flap when her more colorful mate appeared. His arrival sent her away and the flash of unexpected iridescence caused me to raise the camera a little too quickly. He was gone. I froze and waited another 10 minutes or so, but neither returned.

The crowning achievement

Anxious to see the results, I loaded the photos on my computer and was thrilled and amazed to find a few spectacular images. No longer reliant on National Geographic or Audubon magazines, there were hummingbirds from my garden now in my photo library.

Over the course of two days I was able to take a number of pictures of hummingbirds in the trees, at the feeder, and resting on the wire fence. I used a standard Canon digital camera with a zoom feature, nothing fancy. Any birds beyond about six or eight feet away tended to be out of focus or too fuzzy once I enlarged the image. And the images need to be enlarged to see the birds; they are pretty tiny after all.

A different bird on day two

The excitement of catching such a thrilling sight on film (or pixels as it is) is invigorating. With a telephoto lens, tripod, and lots of patience I could achieve magazine quality images, but for me, for now, these simple photos are a great achievement. By being a little patient I captured a unique moment in my garden. A moment that symbolizes much of how and why I garden.

Patience in gardening is something I've written about before. I plant grapes and asparagus knowing it will be three years before I can harvest anything. I plant bareroot fruit trees knowing that many more years will pass before they fill with fruit. I have plans for what I expect my garden to be in five years, and beyond. To me gardening is about the process and the journey.

Planting bird-friendly flowers and hanging seed and liquid feeders offer birds food opportunities, but it doesn't guarantee their imminent arrival. With time they will come. We sit near the garden and enjoy their aerial dances and plumage displays. Each year we see one or two new species that we hadn't seen before.

Now I'm ready to record their populations for posterity. If a hummingbird can be captured in a photo, so too can the finches, doves, jays, and the many others that give us enjoyment. I've snapped a few bird photos before but with little purpose. The possibility of success gives the effort new life. It's not always easy, but great rewards seldom are.

Hummingbirds are a favorite part of my garden, now more so. We wake with their trilling and always look when we see the flash of their flight. The simple notion of them staying still long enough to catch with a camera has awakened other gardening and photographic desires. It's amazing what a great feeling such a small creature can instill.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Snakes in the Garden

Our snake at the bottom of the stairs has been quite active lately. I've seen it most days this week, basking in the early morning sun. This is a wonderful time of year for snakes. It's warm in the evening, warm in the morning, and not too hot during the day. Food and water sources abound. Except for the territorial hawks, there isn't much to be worried about.

The snake under the rock

The snakes in my garden are garter snakes. I know of at least two. The big one lives under the sidewalk and rests under a big rock I put at the bottom of the deck stairs. The smaller one found its way into our shower and I released it near the sidewalk in April (see my blog "Gardens and a Colorado Spring"). It was still cool during the day and I found the two of them curled up together under the rock a few weeks after that. I'm not sure where it resides now.

The smaller "shower" snake

 According to www.gartersnake.info there are five garter snake species found in Colorado. Mine look slightly different from each other; I think the big one is a Plains Garter Snake (Thamnophis radix) and the smaller is a Common Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis). Or maybe a Western Terrestrial Garter Snake (Thamnophis elegans). I can be wrong about that because it's difficult to find pictures of snakes that looked exactly like them. Garter snakes can have different coloring even when they're the same species. If anyone has a definitive answer on these two please let me know.

Garter snakes are the most common snake in North America and have habitats that range from ponds and streams to rocks and fields to homes and gardens. They are opportunistic hunters and adapt to eat what they can find. Almost all information sources reference their consumption of fish and amphibians, but in my high-altitude, dry, prairie landscape they're probably feeding on slugs, grasshoppers, and earthworms.

If they can find a baby bird or egg, they'll eat it. In my garden I hope they're feeding on mice, voles, and baby gophers. Though that may be too much to hope for.

They don't grow much longer than 3 1/2 feet long and my big one is at least three feet long. The last time I saw the little one it was bigger than when I released it, at a respectable two feet length. Those are estimates; I haven't caught and stretched them along a tape measure.

I've only ever seen these two and I don't know their respective sex. Typically females are larger than males so I may have a momma snake under my rock. Garter snakes bear live young and the new snakes are born in late summer or early fall. That time is fast approaching so I'm on the lookout for signs of 20 baby snakes. A typical litter is 10 to 30 snakes and they're independent at birth. Eager to feed right away, my earthworm population is in peril if that happens.

I'm a huge advocate of attracting wildlife to the garden, good and bad. It's illegal to kill nonvenomous snakes in Colorado and I wouldn't want to. They play a role in the environment that is ultimately beneficial. While I may lose some earthworms that are aerating the soil, I'll also lose the slugs that eat my strawberries and Hostas. A baby bird or small egg in a nest near the ground may be devoured, but so too will the destructive vole hiding in a tunnel near my gardens.

In a few months when the weather grows colder the snakes will enter their winter den, a spot usually shared by many other snakes. They'll enter their hibernation, which is actually a "brumation" period. It's a type of dormancy when they save metabolic energy and huddle in a mass of other snakes to conserve their body heat. I don't know where the brumation den is, but it could be a few miles away as all the snakes in the area might gather together.

In preparation for that period they feed more and begin to store fat. That may be why I've seen my snake so much lately. It may be returning from an early morning feeding excursion. It is welcome to as many grasshoppers and slugs as it can find.

The first few times I saw it I was startled by the snake. Now I look for it every day just to be sure it's still there. While garter snakes actually do relatively well in captivity, I have no desire to keep it as a pet. It has a place in my garden and it has a purpose and I do what I can to avoid interfering with the natural cycle.

My wife named it Joe for the benefit of our grandson. It was fun for her to describe my encounter with it in the shower and how we (the snake and I) had a conversation as I released it back into the wild at the base of the stairs. At four years old he was anxious to hear about what the snake said and he wanted to see it when he stayed overnight recently. To our mutual pleasure it was sunning itself when they ventured out the next morning. An exciting morning for a little boy.

Though Joe would truly be the name of the smaller snake, and we haven't really named the big one, it was an experience that that was rewarding for all of us. Children should have the opportunity to realize that nature is wondrous in all of its forms. Snakes don't need to be feared. We should marvel at all of the animals. I don't particularly enjoy the stealthy deer and gophers making a mess of my garden, but I stop and stare in awe every time I actually see them.

The snake under the rock helps remind me that my gardens and my role in this landscape are just a small piece in a much larger picture. It's a bit humbling. But it also helps validate my actions. By encouraging diversity I'm rewarded with more of it. The hummingbirds, jays, foxes, and dogs share the land along with the snakes, gophers, and deer. They go about their lives with little fear of how I'll intervene. I like it that way.
Our snake at the bottom of the stairs has been quite active lately. I've seen it most days this week, basking in the early morning sun. This is a wonderful time of year for snakes. It's warm in the evening, warm in the morning, and not too hot during the day. Food and water sources abound. Except for the territorial hawks, there isn't much to be worried about.

The snake under the rock

The snakes in my garden are garter snakes. I know of at least two. The big one lives under the sidewalk and rests under a big rock I put at the bottom of the deck stairs. The smaller one found its way into our shower and I released it near the sidewalk in April (see my blog "Gardens and a Colorado Spring"). It was still cool during the day and I found the two of them curled up together under the rock a few weeks after that. I'm not sure where it resides now.

The smaller "shower" snake

 According to www.gartersnake.info there are five garter snake species found in Colorado. Mine look slightly different from each other; I think the big one is a Plains Garter Snake (Thamnophis radix) and the smaller is a Common Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis). Or maybe a Western Terrestrial Garter Snake (Thamnophis elegans). I can be wrong about that because it's difficult to find pictures of snakes that looked exactly like them. Garter snakes can have different coloring even when they're the same species. If anyone has a definitive answer on these two please let me know.

Garter snakes are the most common snake in North America and have habitats that range from ponds and streams to rocks and fields to homes and gardens. They are opportunistic hunters and adapt to eat what they can find. Almost all information sources reference their consumption of fish and amphibians, but in my high-altitude, dry, prairie landscape they're probably feeding on slugs, grasshoppers, and earthworms.

If they can find a baby bird or egg, they'll eat it. In my garden I hope they're feeding on mice, voles, and baby gophers. Though that may be too much to hope for.

They don't grow much longer than 3 1/2 feet long and my big one is at least three feet long. The last time I saw the little one it was bigger than when I released it, at a respectable two feet length. Those are estimates; I haven't caught and stretched them along a tape measure.

I've only ever seen these two and I don't know their respective sex. Typically females are larger than males so I may have a momma snake under my rock. Garter snakes bear live young and the new snakes are born in late summer or early fall. That time is fast approaching so I'm on the lookout for signs of 20 baby snakes. A typical litter is 10 to 30 snakes and they're independent at birth. Eager to feed right away, my earthworm population is in peril if that happens.

I'm a huge advocate of attracting wildlife to the garden, good and bad. It's illegal to kill nonvenomous snakes in Colorado and I wouldn't want to. They play a role in the environment that is ultimately beneficial. While I may lose some earthworms that are aerating the soil, I'll also lose the slugs that eat my strawberries and Hostas. A baby bird or small egg in a nest near the ground may be devoured, but so too will the destructive vole hiding in a tunnel near my gardens.

In a few months when the weather grows colder the snakes will enter their winter den, a spot usually shared by many other snakes. They'll enter their hibernation, which is actually a "brumation" period. It's a type of dormancy when they save metabolic energy and huddle in a mass of other snakes to conserve their body heat. I don't know where the brumation den is, but it could be a few miles away as all the snakes in the area might gather together.

In preparation for that period they feed more and begin to store fat. That may be why I've seen my snake so much lately. It may be returning from an early morning feeding excursion. It is welcome to as many grasshoppers and slugs as it can find.

The first few times I saw it I was startled by the snake. Now I look for it every day just to be sure it's still there. While garter snakes actually do relatively well in captivity, I have no desire to keep it as a pet. It has a place in my garden and it has a purpose and I do what I can to avoid interfering with the natural cycle.

My wife named it Joe for the benefit of our grandson. It was fun for her to describe my encounter with it in the shower and how we (the snake and I) had a conversation as I released it back into the wild at the base of the stairs. At four years old he was anxious to hear about what the snake said and he wanted to see it when he stayed overnight recently. To our mutual pleasure it was sunning itself when they ventured out the next morning. An exciting morning for a little boy.

Though Joe would truly be the name of the smaller snake, and we haven't really named the big one, it was an experience that that was rewarding for all of us. Children should have the opportunity to realize that nature is wondrous in all of its forms. Snakes don't need to be feared. We should marvel at all of the animals. I don't particularly enjoy the stealthy deer and gophers making a mess of my garden, but I stop and stare in awe every time I actually see them.

The snake under the rock helps remind me that my gardens and my role in this landscape are just a small piece in a much larger picture. It's a bit humbling. But it also helps validate my actions. By encouraging diversity I'm rewarded with more of it. The hummingbirds, jays, foxes, and dogs share the land along with the snakes, gophers, and deer. They go about their lives with little fear of how I'll intervene. I like it that way.