We The People

When mighty trees lie strewn like fallen heroes, it unsettles our minds, shocks our senses and disrupts our lives. We mourn their demise and our loss. Amongst the non-humans dearest to us,trees are perhaps only second to pets.

The question I’ve been asking myself most since hurricane Sandy passed this way has been – what more could we have done? With no power, heat, phone or Internet to distract me, I’ve had a lot of time to ask questions and think about such matters. Several days worth of time.

It was all very well to wait for the necessary people to come and set things right, to rail at the powers that be for not getting my life back in order and complain about the hardship of being cold even under several layers of fleece to anyone even remotely willing to listen but what could I have done to lessen the impact of such an event?

First and foremost, let me tell you what I did do. I took care of all pending chores in the garden. Okay, not all by myself. I did have family doing their fair share. In the end, the huge number of bulbs got planted, leaves were raked, perennials cut back, beds mulched, outdoor furniture put away, tender plants moved into the greenhouse, wayward limbs of roses secured, espalier pruned and window box plants (in liners) brought in. Anything that had the potential of becoming airborne was either weighted down or put away. The list seemed endless and the work was done at a somewhat frenetic pace. It got done because I had a list of what needed doing. So do forgive me if I sound somewhat smug. Nobody else (read that as certain people who live with me) has given me any credit for being organized. I don’t do things for accolades but an occasional gold star wouldn’t hurt. However, I remain optimistic.

Fortunately, except for some small branches and twigs, no harm was done to home or garden. I’m immensely grateful for that. Others did not fare so well. When you sit back to assess the damages, the majority of cases were the result of fallen branches and whole trees. Almost all those power losses were directly due to the lines being brought down by trees. How might we have changed this outcome?

We all agree that trees are priceless. Their uses are numerous not the least of which is preventing soil erosion that can become a serious problem in storms and heavy rains. So it’s not a matter of whether we need trees. It’s a matter of which trees to plant and where to plant them.

In a bid for instant gratification, so many ‘fast growing’ trees are planted that nurseries are full of them. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again, fast growing means shallow roots. These are the first trees to come down in a storm. It does not take much of a storm to accomplish that. Look around and you’ll see that most of the trees strewn all over are of that fast growing class.

Whatever happened to stewardship of the land? Our founding fathers, particularly Thomas Jefferson, exemplified that practice. Are we not obligated to do our bit? Or are we to think of that instant ‘privacy screen’ of evergreen trees as more important? Or how about that charming and impulsive idea of buying live Christmas trees and planting them each year in an orderly row at the edge of the property up close to the street and well below the power lines– they look so cute and evoke warm memories of holidays past. Those trees grow tall and stop looking so cute very quickly. Especially when one or more are tipped over by the likes of hurricane Sandy, or Floyd or Katrina or Hugo or Irene. Down come power lines with those trees. The rest you know. If privacy from the street or neighbor is needed, think instead about clipped hedges or Belgian espalier fences. Maintained at a height of six to eight feet either will serve the purpose handsomely. Or consider trees that don’t grow so tall. There are in addition, dwarf varieties of several favourites.

So okay, we stop planting shallow rooted, fast growing trees close to houses and other buildings and stay clear of power lines. What next?

We now consider the American oaks both red and white, river birchs, yellow poplars, sycamores, elms, red maples and similar stalwarts of this continent. These are the trees to plant! For posterity and majesty. Future generations will thank us as they linger in their shade, play on a swing suspended from one of the sturdy branches, picnic beneath their canopy or simply sit back against a wide trunk and feel content. Again, these too do not belong near houses or power lines because they get too big and their branches can cause harm should they break. Place them where they can rise tall and proud with limbs that spread wide like a giant embrace. Where you can watch them grow and where your children and eventually grandchildren can see them at their best.

A very critical factor in choosing a tree is the height and breadth to which it will finally grow. Tall, wide trees are fine as long as they do not overpower its surroundings. Keep it in balance. Think about the other plants, shrubs, vines and surrounding structures. They must relate to each other.

Trees make shade and therefore shade loving plants get planted around it. If you like the morning sun streaming into your kitchen then, don’t place a big tree on that side. Smaller trees like dogwood or dwarf fruit trees might be more appropriate. Harsh afternoon heat can be dissipated by well positioned trees on the southern side of the property. These same trees if deciduous, will permit warming light in winter when all the leaves are gone. You see? There are indeed right and wrong places for trees.

Trees are not maintenance free. They need water, nutrients and space to grow strong and healthy. Sometimes, they require cabling to give proper stability. Like us, trees age. So it’s important to periodically examine the health of the trees. Rot and disease are not always apparent so the best way to do this is to get a tree expert. He/she will know to read early signs in a dying or diseased tree and prescribe the appropriate action. If several neighbors got together and hired such an expert, it would be very cost effective. A tree in my neighborhood took down power lines in the previous two storms. The branches broke each time. Finally, Sandy uprooted the tree entirely and its now been many days without electricity, heat, phone and Internet. If the owners to whom the tree belonged had had the tree seen by a tree expert after the first storm, then perhaps we would have been spared the frustration we felt. I bear no malice to the owners. We are all guilty of such oversights. But perhaps this can be a valuable lesson for the future.

Finally, in preparation for the next storm, and it will come, can we make a concerted effort to scan our properties and neighborhood to identify all the potential problems? And in true community spirit, lets help each other trim, prune, cut down and clean up. Then perhaps we can look forward to fewer loss of trees and power and maybe less casting of blame on elected officials, power companies and tree services. Personal responsibility goes a long way in making for a thriving, successful democracy. Its for the people, of the people and by the people remember? Besides, raise your hand if you’d like to stop hearing your children whining about yet another day without heat, television, phone and Internet.

I’m not absolving local, state or federal authorities of their responsibilities. But, we get to vote them in or out of office. There is nobody checking on our own responsibilities. Except our conscience. And that fallen icon whose fate was sealed the day it was planted.

Dwarf apple trees

An old cedar

Clipped hedges in Piet Oudolf’s garden.

An ancient olive.

A study in white.

History on record.

Wood and stone.

(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2012

 

Where Do Butterflies Go When It Rains? Who Goes Around And Tucks In The Trains?

That refrain from a song by the Carpenters played in my head all through the time Hurricane Sandy was doing her worst. Apart from the understandable concern for the safety of family, friends and property, I could not help thinking, okay obsessing, about how the birds, bees and butterflies coped in the storm. In the big picture, those little creature matter mightily. Consider how much has has been impacted by the drastic decrease in the number of honey bees due to colony collapse disorder. Enough said.

Of course, unlike us humans who need the whirring of assorted machines to predict a change in weather, birds are finely tuned to barometric pressure shifts. They will then flee, seek shelter or actually move into the eye of the storm where all is quiet. This last option can carry them long distances and depending on the duration of the storm, they will remain without food or water which if prolonged will ultimately do them in. Most birds find old nests, tree cavities, dense shrubbery where they can ride out the storm.
No doubt, severe hurricanes and storms cause a rise in avian mortality be it due to starvation, exhaustion, habitat destruction, exposure to pounding rain or wind.

Butterflies are also able to read a drop in barometric pressure and know to seek safe locations. Under leaves, in piles of leaves, thickets and such.

Bees on the other hand, have it down to a science. Contrary to the supposition that they swarm before a storm, these smart creatures do not leave the hive if temperatures fall below 57 degrees Fahrenheit or if the wind speed is more than 12 mph. And of course, they have each other to huddle and keep cozy inside the hive.

Common to all of the creatures mentioned above is what is called ‘communal roosting’. Which just means getting close together sharing warmth and having safety in numbers. Sound familiar?

In times of adversity, the tradition of coming together to do what’s good for the whole seems to prevail across the species. For us humans, it means sharing and giving. For the most part, we are at our best in times of crises. Our pets get included in all the camaraderie.. Their safety is given high priority as well it should. But, what are we doing about those birds, bees and butterflies? Given how important they are to the health of our gardens, farms, forests, park lands and, consequently our own health, surely some attention on our part is required.

True, its not as though one can round up all these vital beings and give them a form of public shelter but perhaps we can provide conditions that lend some level of security in their natural habitats. Obviously, the unnecessary clearing of woods and forests is to be avoided. But it is really what we can do to support the creatures closer to home and farm that will be of direct use. Setting up bird, bat, butterfly houses, ensuring a source of water, growing plants, shrubs and trees that offer both shelter and food will go a long way. At the same time, doing away with toxic fertilizers, insecticides and weed killers should be mandatory. Safe and effective organic alternatives exist so please lets all adopt them. However much one is a neat freak, find it within yourself to keep one corner, a far spot not so easy to view if you prefer, a little wild. By that I don’t mean it should be unsightly. Instead, group together some assorted shrubs to form a thicket. Toss in a thorny bush or two into the mix of deciduous and evergreen plants. Select shrubs that are the natural food sources for the refugees. Situate these shrubs at some distance to allow for some privacy and sense of security. And following a storm, replenish bird feeders and water baths. None of this is so hard to do right?

There will of course be some casualties from each storm but staying tuned to nature and doing whatever is within our abilities would be doing right by ourselves and this earth to which we all belong.

When Sandy was blowing at alarming, ear piercing speeds, it must have been absolutely terrifying for those poor souls. I’d like to think they sensed and were reassured by the positive energy I was sending their way. Please don’t attempt to disillusion me.

Things To Do This Month

1 Clean up debris left by the storm. Rake leaves, pick up branches and twigs, cut away broken or dead tree and shrub limbs.
2. Check stability of supports, fences, gates, paths, steps and such. Fix what needs fixing.
3. Finish planting bulbs and perennials. The ground is still pliable. But hurry!
4. Cut back perennials, remove annuals and generally tidy up.
5. Put away all outdoor furniture and smaller pots.
6. Protect outdoor statuary and large pots.
7. Get amaryllis started so they will be in bloom at the holidays.
8. Fill bird feeders.
9. Keep sand or kitty litter and snow shovels handy.

Birds at the feeder in winter.

Gold finch in the butterfly bush.

Tom turkey visits

Red Admiral on allium

Red, white and blue!

Yet another butterfly – Tiger Swallowtail

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

 

 

 

Beaten By Bulbs

Its still a tad warmer than it ought to be at this time of year. So I was hesitant about planting my 750 spring blooming bulbs. Timing is everything. Too early and they start putting out shoots right away; too late and the ground is frozen solid. In the past, I’ve always planted round about now. I did spot a solitary woolly worm ( caterpillar of the tiger moth) but couldn’t remember what the brown band meant at that time. Only later did I recall that a narrow brown band means a harsh winter. The one I saw bore a band almost half the length of the worm. I’ll make up my mind about this prediction in March 2013. Uncertain of when it might get properly cold, I decided to take the risk and go ahead. Besides, my able bodied albeit reluctant helpers (husband and progeny) were free to assist. Like I just said – timing is everything.

Each year the planting gets harder. A rather harsh reminder of aging body parts. Whilst sorting the somewhat large number of bulbs for the respective areas of the somewhat small garden, I was appalled not only by the greed that had prompted this order but also how insane I’d been to take on such a project. I never learn. Like childbirth, I forget the pain and giving no consideration to budget or aforesaid aging body, I keep repeating this laborious project.

First, I set up my helpers with their stash of bulbs and assigned them their areas in the ‘meadow’. Over the years they know what to do. Still, not wanting to take chances, I  gently remind them that each bulb goes in to a depth three times it’s size (and ignore the teenager rolling her eyes). I treat my aides very kindly because as one well knows, good help is hard to come by. Frankly, I cannot dream of planting the bulbs without their assistance. I am careful however to not mention this as I’m afraid they might demand better work conditions and actual salaries. I myself have the toughest area in which to sink in the bulbs. The two perennial beds in front are a challenge as they are chock full of perennials and bulbs from previous years. The odds of hitting a spot already safekeeping a bulb are very high. I’m understandably nervous about rendering a body blow to a precious allium, crocus, hyacinth, ornithogalum, galanthus, muscari, lily, anemone blanda or camassia. Then there’s the fact that I have to dig each hole while contorting my body unnaturally so as not to step on the ornamental grass, asters, monkshoods and sedums currently in bloom and at the same time avoid the frenzied bees swarming around to siphon nectar from said plants. Its like I’m playing a version of Extreme Twister by myself.

The shipment of bulbs

Apportioned bulbs.

Teenager at work. Warms my heart!

Counter-intuitive as it may seem, I’ve decided that its harder to work with the very small bulbs. Easy enough to make the holes but grasping and placing these bulbous miniatures right side up is not so simple. I think little children should be put to work for this task. Their small hands are perfectly suited. Small bulb planting in exchange for some ice-cream sounds pretty commensurate don’t you think? Plus they get to relieve some pent up energy and breathe all the fresh air their young lungs can take. And in the spring, they can be very proud of the beautiful flowers for which they were responsible. I fantasize about starting a business of hiring out well trained youngsters. I could be the equivalent of a modern day, reformed Fagin. Its productive thoughts like these that keep me plugging away.

Finally, the bulbs are all in. A thick layer of compost to function as both fertilizer and mulch is applied all over the beds. I am done! However, the worst is yet to come in oh, about twelve to fourteen hours. That’s when muscles I forget about all year long decide to express themselves. Bending, the act of sitting, walking up or down an incline or stairs are all excruciatingly painful. To make matters worse, every groan elicits laughter from those home grown helpers of mine. They appear unscathed and annoyingly perky. Maybe I’m treating them much too well.

Parrot tulip and camassia. From last spring.

More bulbs in perennial bed.

The meadow in spring.

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Tips for still green tomatoes:
If the weather shows promise of staying warm for a few days longer, remove the leaves shading the unripe fruits. This will allow more sunlight on them and hasten the ripening.
Alternatively, pluck the green tomatoes and wrap each one in newspaper. Store these ‘packages’ in a single layer making sure they’re not touching, in a cool, dry place. The tomatoes will ripen in a few days. Check periodically so they don’t spoil.
Finally, there is always the delicious option of making fried green tomatoes. Yum!

—————–

As I’m getting ready to put this post up, we’re battening down the hatches in preparation for Hurricane Sandy. I don’t mind the end of season garden chores as they needed doing anyway – just not in such a frenzied hurry. But all that could be done is done. With still so many leaves on the trees, I fervently hope the storm is not as bad as the predictions. Lets all keep our fingers crossed and think positive thoughts. Stay safe!

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

 

Love At First Sight

Have you ever had the experience of encountering a place that immediately finds a home in your heart? When you feel inspired and energized by the promise it holds? On the morning of October 5, 2012, thats exactly what happened to me. That was the day I was introduced to Untermyer Gardens in Yonkers, NY.

Until a year and a half ago, I had never even heard of the place. Then my friend and horticulturist extraordinaire Timothy Tilghman, took up a job there. I was made aware that the garden had flourished in the early half of the last century and then went into serious decline. It was all but forgotten while weeds smothered the place and vandals went about wrecking it. I hoped Timothy knew what he had accepted. It wasn’t just the job of maintaining this garden but he had to first bring it to life. Thats more than mere application of horticultural knowledge. It takes great vision, curiosity and passion.

Through mutual friends and mainstream media coverage, I followed Timothy’s spectacular progress at Untermyer. I kept intending to visit but life has a habit of getting in the way and it wasn’t till this particular October Friday that I finally got there. On this bright, beautiful day, Timothy waited to show me his ‘baby’.

There is plenty in the archives to give the original plans and making of the original gardens that Mr. Untermyer himself oversaw and created. So I shall not go into the history and other details. But I strongly recommend that one go to the website www.untermyergardens.org. to learn more as well as to see photographs of then and now. I assure you it is worth the time and effort. What I want to convey here is my personal response to this garden.

Spying the walled garden through the tall doors set in a high, crenelated wall is a real tease. One is lured in. It is entirely possible that on entering this garden and seeing the Persian/Mogul inspired design, my own Indian heritage influenced how much at home I felt. It was as though I was visiting an old royal garden in northern India. But it was more than that. It felt right. Perched across from the Palisades, overlooking the Hudson river, this garden was situated carefully and deliberately. The designer had known exactly what he was doing. Which brings home the point that for a garden to be a true success, it must not only be laid out well but it must be assigned to the appropriate site.

The plantings are just lovely. Dramatic and yet, they do not compete with the strong bones of the garden. Even in restoration, a garden must evolve. Timothy has selected plants that are visually really attractive. On closer inspection they reveal how clever he has been in his choices. The Japanese hollies with New Guinea impatiens bordering the water canals are spot on. Elsewhere, he’s used plants that are hard working and easily obtained. Anybody can try these plants in their own gardens. I got the distinct feeling Mr. Untermyer would’ve approved.

And thats what makes Untermyer such a wonderful classroom for all gardeners. The original plans are available to show how the owner along with landscape architect/designer Welles Bosworth created the various gardens with care and purpose. There are photographs and other information available for study and they provide a wealth of answers to the myriad questions that Timothy must ask in order to restore all of the gardens to their former state of glory. His progress will be instructive at so many levels.

After showing me around the walled garden and allowing me sufficient time to drool over it as well as the mosaic pool set just below to its side, Timothy led me on a horticultural adventure. The initial discovery of various ruins and debris after clearing decades of overgrowth had been absolutely thrilling for him. Now he could match photographs to actual locations on the property. His joy in showing me all of what he has unearthed and what still remains to be done was contagious. Whether it was the authentic Roman pillars or the old carriage trail or the rose arbors or where the daffodil drifts explode in spring or the Temple of Love, I was caught up in the excitement of coming upon the remains and envisioning them at the height of their times. This was history, archeology, architecture, horticulture and The Secret Garden all rolled into one exhilarating experience.

An astounding amount of work still remains to be done but what has already been achieved is just as impressive. Here is a garden brimming with such potential and possibilities. It absolutely must be restored or we will lose one of our nation’s great gardens.

There is an Untermyer Conservancy to which donations can be made. And while one waits for funds to roll in and the work to be done, word about this treasure must go out, visitors should come and all together we can bring this garden back to the way it ought to be. We owe this to ourselves and to generations ahead.

I’m already planning future visits when I can paint en plein air while at the same time acquire new gardening wisdom.

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

Entrance to the walled garden

Into the garden

The view of the Palisades from the walled garden

The temple

The mosaic work

Roman pillars

To gardens yet to be restored

A viewing place. There used to be a waterfall here.

With Timothy Tilghman

In Every Gardener Resides Pollyanna

Once again, its time to start putting the garden to bed. Sigh. Looking at spent up plants, fallen leaves and worn out lawns, I’m acutely reminded of the long, dark winter months ahead. I’m overcome with a sense of sadness and a reluctance to let go of light cast days of summer. I regret the time wasted by shirking duties in the garden. When I escaped too quickly into the air-conditioned comfort of the house mumbling the excuse of wilting in the humidity. Why instead, didn’t I accept that it was okay to sit outside and still not do the chores? At least the pleasures of the outdoors could have been indulged. But no, I could not look the garden in the eye when I failed to tend it properly and so I skulked away. What a loss of good summer hours.

With the heavy heart of one saying goodbye to a very dear friend, I start on my chores. Soon, I’m filled with optimism and anticipation of our next encounter only a few months away. I’m suddenly aware that the tasks themselves are full of promise.

Consider the seed pods ripening on the stems. While they dry and make percussion music in the breeze, they hold everything to make more plants for the next time around. Tomorrow will offer abundance. I harvest the pods and tuck them away in labeled envelopes till its time to awaken them at the end of winter. Already, I’m planning exactly when each type of seed will be started. My heart beats a wee bit faster.

Cutting back the perennials and pulling up the annuals allows me the satisfaction that comes from cleaning and tidying. The perennials go dormant and I imagine them replenishing their energy to emerge again in the spring full of vim and vigor for yet another year of giving joy.

Dividing perennials like peonies and irises at this time provides the opportunity to expand the garden with more of what I love. I add other treasures from the nursery. When I’m finished, it doesn’t look like much but I know that after the winter, the garden will come alive bigger and better than before. My heart beats even faster. I’m smiling as though its already spring.

Planting a tree in itself is an act of faith. Particularly if it is a tree that grows slowly and grows big. I myself may not be there to see it in its fullness but future generations will and that is reason enough to invest in tomorrow. Someone down the road will be grateful for this gift from the past. The thrill I feel is akin to secretly leaving May baskets for neighbors. Such fun.

Even as I gather the freshly raked leaves, I’m thinking about the rich compost they will make to feed the plants next growing season. That thought permits my arms and shoulders to bear the aches and soreness as a badge of honor and continue the work with renewed vigor. Optimism is a powerful motivator.

The bulbs I ordered in mid-summer have arrived just in time for fall planting. Innocuous brown packages in a variety of sizes. Its just incredible that they contain what will become some of the most beautiful sights of spring and summer. To hold a bulb in my hand is to hold a miracle. Now my heart is truly aflutter. I’m positively ecstatic.

The fall offers up a chance to do over parts of the garden or even the entire garden. Its as though past mistakes are forgiven, new chances to try something different are presented.
Suddenly I’m attacking my chores with enthusiasm and ardor. I savor the colors of autumn and inhale the crisp, cool air. I feel truly alive. A new energy has infused my spirit and the winter ahead is no longer dreaded. I’ll use up that season with garden dreams and plans. And I’ll wait with restrained impatience for spring. I see hope, potential and possibilities everywhere. Pollyanna lives!

I cut the last of the ‘Heritage’ rose and bring the fragrant flowers to cherish indoors. The first frost is expected tonight.


Newly arrived bulbs


Planting time


Ginko in the fall

Milkweed seed pod
Milkweed seed pod

Last roses of summer
Last roses of summer

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

Things To Do This Month

  1. Continue patrolling for weeds. As long as there is no frost, the weeds will keep thriving.
  2. Get lawns freed of thatch and reseeded.
  3. Start planting bulbs for spring once weather gets properly cold but before ground freezes. Usually end of October and early November is the ideal time.
  4. Get rakes, leaf bags and such ready for tackling fall leaves. I leave some leaves for mulch but still need to rake a good deal. Raked leaves are deposited on a compost pile in the woods.
  5. Begin cutting back perennials and clean up garden beds.
  6. Fall is the season to plant most perennials. Divide and replant or purchase new ones.
  7. Secure climbers like roses so limbs are not damaged in winter storms. At this time, remove all dead wood.
  8. This is a good time to take inventory and see what needs to be repaired, replaced, renewed or redone. Think plants such as shrubs and trees, paths, walls, patio furniture, trellises and arbors. Schedule what gets done now or can wait till spring. Knowing what needs doing, what is required, how long it takes and how much it costs goes a long way. Otherwise, it gets overwhelming. And often, over-budget.
  9. Enjoy the autumn flowers and colors. My asters are currently running riot and make me smile .  I’ve also been bringing in hydrangea for dry arrangements. A big bunch in a large, white ironstone pitcher makes a simple and dramatic statement.

 
Aerating the Lawn
Aerating the Lawn
Autumn running amok!
Autumn running amok!
asters
asters
Setting for a fall feast
Setting for a fall feast

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

In the garden 2012-08-10

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In the garden 2012-07-20

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In the garden 2012-06-15

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In the garden 2012-06-01

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