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Getting through the Doldrums
When pruning a Merrill magnolia last November, I brought home a few stems that had nice fat flower buds and put them in a vase of water. I put them in a south-facing window and pretty much forgot about them. From time to time I admired the smooth gray bark and handsome branching patterns. But then in the first week of January, those stems developed lovely green leaves! And the flower buds are swelling and look as if they might bloom, too – but even if they don’t, my spirits are lifted by seeing some green leaves.
Forced magnolia leaves
Forcing blossoms of tree branches (making them bloom early indoors) is normally something I do in March, when I am pruning apple trees. I always bring in some branches and enjoy both the leaves and flowers of stems I have cut. At that time of year the trees are already “thinking” about opening up their buds, and it only takes a week or two for them to open up on a sunny windowsill.
But this year, I am going to cut apples, forsythia, lilacs and other spring-blooming trees and shrubs starting now. Each week I shall snip a few branches and experiment with forcing. I have never tried forcing lilacs, for example, and since they are mid-to late-spring bloomers, I would normally hold off until nearer the time that they normally break dormancy –perhaps in April. But why not try now? I have read that one can encourage branches to break dormancy by submerging them entirely in a bathtub of water and will give that a try.
When you select branches for forcing, be sure to pick some that have flower buds. Flower buds are generally fatter than leaf buds. On apple trees, flowers are generally found on fruit spurs. These are 2- or 3-inch long stems that end in fat buds. The buds contain both leaf and flower buds. For many varieties, fruit spurs must be more than a year old in order to produce flowers (and hence fruit). Last year’s water sprouts (vertical whips) on apples will produce leaves but not flowers.
Almost any tree can be forced, but many do not have flowers that are colorful, so we often ignore them. Do you know what a maple or poplar blossom looks like? Their small green flowers are not much appreciated – and I have never cut them to put in a vase. You certainly recognize pussy willows as signs of spring, but do you think of those furry fellows as flowers? They are flowers, and can give me as much pleasure in February as my roses will later on.
For best results, cut stems of trees according to their natural schedule. That means picking early bloomers now, and later bloomers in February and March. Here is a rough schedule: In January cut forsythia , willows and poplars. In early February cut red maples, alder, quince, birch and cherries. Later in February try rhododendrons, azaleas and pussy willows. Then in March try cutting branches of hawthorns, shrub honeysuckles, apples, crabapples, mockorange, lilacs, and spirea.
Tomato and avocado growing together
Elsewhere in the house I was recently surprised by a tomato plant that appeared in a pot where I have an avocado growing. The avocado was one that I dug out of the compost pile last fall – along with a tomato seed, apparently. Most grocery store avocados do not have viable seeds, as the seeds need to be fresh (picked within 3 weeks of planting) in order to grow.
I remember as a boy suspending an avocado seed in a glass of water by toothpicks. It sent roots down into the glass, and then sent up a stem. I planted the seedling in a pot, creating a nice houseplant with glossy green leaves. But since the avocado industry now stores and sells avocados all year, the seeds are usually too old to grow. But I guess last summer I threw a few fresh avocado seeds into the compost because three seeds grew!
But what about that orphan tomato growing with my avocado? I am going to give it every benefit. I have heard about people who have gotten tomatoes to bloom and produce fruit indoors in winter, though I have never done it. To help mine along I have hung a light over it in the window where it is growing. I am using an LED light that uses very little energy and produces a lot of light from its 45 little LED bulbs. It’s produced by Sunshine Systems (www.sunshine-systems.com) and uses just 28 watts of power while providing the light of a 250 watt hps lamp.
I realize that my tomato might not produce tasty fruit even if I get some. It all depends on the seed: it will be fine if it came from an heirloom tomato (which is mostly what I grow), but if it’s from a hybrid tomato plant, it might produce an undesirable fruit. Hybrids most often revert to the parent types, which may not be tasty. Still … it’s winter, and I’m game to try almost anything to feel like a gardener.
Henry Homeyer is the author of 4 gardening books and lectures on gardening throughout New England. He can be reached at henry.homeyer@comcast.net.
How Long Does it Take to Create a Mature Garden?
Several years ago I interviewed the late Tasha Tudor, the reclusive illustrator and author, at her garden in southern Vermont. One question I asked her was, “How long does it take to create a garden?” Her answer, as reported in my book Organic Gardening (not just) in the Northeast, was succinct. “It takes twelve years to make a garden. Everything takes time that’s worthwhile.” I find that fascinating in light of recent visits to the gardens of Susan Weeks, of Lebanon, NH. Her lovely mature gardens were started around the year 2000 – some 12 years ago. And although Susan says they are still a work in progress, hers would make most gardeners ready to sit back and just admire them.
Patrinia
Susan moved into her house in 1995 with the idea that it was her final move: “I knew this was going to be my last home – the canvas I was going to be working on for the next 40 years – or until they drag me out of here.” When she moved in, her landscape consisted of a modern white house on a green lawn with just a few trees – a small blue spruce, a white pine and a rug of juniper on either side of the front door. It took her awhile to decide what to do, but by 2002 she decided to start planting some trees.
Susan decided to spend her money on trees that were already of fair size – at least 2 inches in caliper (diameter). She knew that she could cut corners and buy from a big box store, but doesn’t think it makes sense to do so. “I believe in buying local. They (locals) know what works here. It might be more expensive, but it works out better for everyone,” she told me. Over a few years she had a crab apple, two sugar maples, a Japanese tree lilac and a Japanese red maple installed. She kept them watered, made sure the lawnmower stayed away, and now these trees provide shade and beauty.
Great Blue Lobelia
A mature woman of relatively small stature, Susan knew that these trees would best be installed by someone else, so she hired E.C. Brown Nursery of Thetford, Vermont to supply the trees and plant them. “As you get older, if you have some heavy work that needs to be done, it makes sense to get somebody it to do it for you.” That allowed her to work on the perennial gardens that she has developed over the past 10 years.
Gardening should be fun, and should be consistent with a gardener’s value system. Susan has two adorable old dogs that have grown up in her gardens, and she decided from day one that no chemicals would be used in her gardens – she didn’t want to risk harming Zoe and Maggie, her dogs. She fenced in part of the yard so the dogs would have a nice place to lounge around, and trained them to respect the flower beds while allowing them places to dig holes to lie in on hot days. Over the years she has expanded the fencing 3 times (as her budget allowed, I suppose) and the 4-foot tall white picket fence now encloses just about all of her property. There is a buffer zone, also planted, between the fence and the street.
Susan started planting perennials, adding the more each year. She has plenty of common flowers: bee balm, hostas, daylilies, iris, and black-eyed Susans. But after awhile, she took a four-evening class on gardening and started to get more confidence. She craved more interesting and unusual plants.
Canadian burnet
She tried Canadian burnet (Sanguisorba canadensis), great blue lobelia and ligularia. She got things with no common name like Persicaria superbum. Right now she has a tall shade-loving plant with bright yellow flowers that I’d never seen before, one she got from Cider Hill Gardens in Windsor, Vermont. It’s a Patrinia (no common name) and it’s not clear if it is a P. triloba or a P. gibbosa. I must get one.
At some point Susan decided she needed a small water feature, and created a little pond about 8 feet long and 3 to 4 feet wide with a pump that shoots a gentle stream of water into the air. She dug the hole herself, lined it with a special rubber liner, and covered the edges with flat stones. “A weekend project,” she said. She put in goldfish – and moved them indoors each winter to keep them alive. She told me that the sound of the bubbler is good for attracting birds. She loves the birds – another good reason for using all organic products.
Crabapple tree planted
Over time Susan has introduced flowering shrubs to her landscape, saying that as one gets older it’s important to have lower-maintenance plants. She is moving away from perennials that need to be dug and divided on a regular basis. Among the shrubs she has planted are weigela, hydrangeas, lilacs, ninebark, fothergilla; blueberry (for fall foliage); beauty bush; viburnum, daphne, Clethra, butterfly bush and others. She has a dog-eared copy of Taylor’s Guide to Shrubs, and each time she plants a new shrub she ticks it off in the book and writes the date planted.
And although Susan says she is cutting back, slowing down, I noticed that she had just excavated a new bed outside her fence. And she is eyeing a bit of lawn by the street. “Grass – it’s just one big perennial. It’s okay to dig some up for other perennials.” I can’t wait to see what happens in her gardens after she retires from her job in a few years.
Henry Homeyer’s upcoming kid’s book, Wobar and the Quest for the Magic Calumet, will be on shelves in October.
Lilacs
Chris Wilson loves lilacs. He grows about 200 of them including more than 100 varieties at his home in West Newbury, Vermont. Like many gardeners, he was a little disappointed with the showing of his lilacs this year. There were fewer blossoms, and many were smaller than normal. I recently met with Chris, who works at E.C. Brown’s Nursery in Thetford Center, Vermont to discuss lilacs – and this year’s less than stellar performance.
First, Chris noted that many lilacs tend to follow two-year cycles of abundant bloom. Like apple trees that produce a heavy fruit load, producing a heavy crop of blossoms and seeds draws down on the energy of a lilac; the next year the lilacs tend to be less productive. I understand that phenomenon, but can’t imagine that all lilacs everywhere would be on the same cycle. But it does make me want to cut off the spent flower panicles on my favorite lilacs before they expend all the energy of making seeds.
Lilac
The next possibility that Chris and I discussed was the extreme variations of temperature this spring. The early heat caused buds to swell and prepare for opening. That was followed by several hard frosts. Some of the buds may well have been damaged or made more susceptible to fungal diseases that have also attacked some lilacs this spring. He showed me some blackened stems and buds that were blighted and unproductive.
I have noticed that later-blooming lilacs are doing better than the earlier blooming lilacs did. That would make sense. Later blooming lilacs probably would not have buds that were ready to open during a week of high temperatures. Miss Kim, for example, is a very popular later-blooming lilac that is blooming quite well for me.
But my personal theory, unsubstantiated by any independent tests, is this: Last August was cool and rainy. I have read that lilacs set their spring buds in late summer, which I define as August- though the literature does not specify. I think that since lilacs got less sun than usual, they didn’t set as many buds. Then the hot/cold/hot weather this spring reduced even those numbers. And who knows what the lack of snow meant to lilacs. Gardening is full of unanswerable questions.
Conventional wisdom has it that lilacs need a top-dressing of ashes from the woodstove (or a dose of limestone from your local feed-n-grain store) each March. I disagree. Yes, lilacs do best in neutral or slightly sweet (alkaline) soil. For most of us, that means counteracting our acid rain by applying lime or wood ash once a year. But March? I think the timing has more to do with when farmers of past years were not too busy and had the time to spread some ashes. I believe that any time of year is just fine. It takes time for limestone to be incorporated into the soil. The key is to do it annually. I spread two quarts of wood ashes around a big lilac – whenever I get a chance. Do it now, before you forget. It really will make a difference next year.
Lilacs need annual pruning in order to look good. Most lilacs sucker, or send up new shoots from the roots. If you do not cut some of these back to the ground, the clump will get wider and wider. One way to keep your lilac vigorous is to remove a couple of the older stems each year, allowing the smaller and middle-sized stems to get larger. And unless you want to get on a ladder to cut blooms, you need to control height. Cut back tall stems to a fork, reducing height. The time to do it? Now, after the blossoms have finished.
It is often difficult to prune back stems to the ground as lilac stems grow very close to each other. But if you only cut back a stem to 2 or 3 feet above ground, you are left with stubs that are unsightly and that will sprout new shoots – often several new ones – that will clog up the center of the shrub more than the stem you cut off. My weapon of choice is a folding saw with a pointy end. I get on my knees and work the point into the clump as near the base as possible, and saw through a big stem. It takes time and energy, but is worth it.
After all the standard lilacs have finished blooming comes the show put on by Japanese tree lilacs. These are medium-sized trees, not shrubs. They have white flowers that are quite fragrant. But they may be invasive: the personnel at the Saint Gaudens National Historic Site in Cornish, NH, have found lots of young tree lilacs in the woods, and at the edge of the woods near their site. They have started pulling them as they decided that these visitors from the Far East have the potential to take over the understory. They are not, however, listed on any invasive species lists of prohibited plants.
The standard lilac is a wondrous plant. When I cross-country ski I sometimes see them by cellar holes of homes abandoned a century or more ago. Their flowers are beautiful and fragrant. What more could I we ask for?
Henry Homeyer is the author of 4 gardening books. His Web site is www.Gardening-guy.com.