Garden Experiment Results

by Carl Strang

In earlier posts I described the gardens around my home and this year’s experiments in which I am trying to improve them. In one experiment I trimmed patches of zigzag goldenrod and Culver’s root so as to get progressive increases in height front to back, hoping to produce little walls of flowers. The best result was in the sunnier patch of goldenrods behind the urn.

Yard 4SE 2b

The effect is being enhanced day by day as the Virginia creepers on the nearby silver maples increase in color.

Yard 26SE 10b

Earlier I mentioned how the Culver’s root did not respond well to the trimming. I still suspect that this year’s cool cloudy summer had an impact there. On the other hand, I’m convinced that such trimming will not work in the shadier part of the garden, so next year I will apply the same treatment only in the sunny area.

As shown above, the urn was a good addition. I also like how the variegated Solomon’s seals worked out.

Yard 10MY3b

Finally, in the vegetable garden, I got very poor results with Swiss chard, but the Tuscan kale grew well and I will expand its allotment next year.

Yard 26SE 1b

Soon we enter the season when gardeners dream their plans for next year.

Micrathena gracilis

by Carl Strang

A couple years ago I was pleasantly surprised to find, in the garden beds around my home, a few orb-weaving spiders of the species Micrathena gracilis.

Micrathena gracilis b

It was a happy discovery, as this is a forest spider, and it was, like the little firefly Photinus marginellus, a sign that the micro-woodland I had established around my home was successful.

I first encountered Micrathena as a child in northern Indiana. They were common in the woods there, and on our fall squirrel hunts we had to watch for them. It was distracting to get tangled in their webs, and these spiders can bite (the sensation is comparable to that of a biting fly, i.e. something one wants to avoid if possible). During my 5-year stint as an assistant professor of biology in Pennsylvania I found this spider there, as well. I noticed that the spider’s thorny-looking, black-highlighted white abdomen mimics the silk-wrapped debris from earlier feedings clustered near the center of the spider’s web.

When I moved to Illinois 28 years ago I soon noticed that only Waterfall Glen, DuPage County’s southernmost forest preserve along the Des Plaines River, seemed to have Micrathena, though they were fairly common there. Since then they have expanded north and west. A decade or more ago I first saw them at Willowbrook Forest Preserve, close to the center of the county. And now I find them each year in my yard in west central DuPage. Like the broad-winged tree cricket I featured last winter, this spider’s expanding range tells us that nature is dynamic, always changing, worth monitoring.

If you build it…

by Carl Strang

Our yards are habitats for wildlife. We have no choice in that. We can, however, influence what kinds of wildlife will visit us or live with us on the land. This is true even for a tiny yard like mine. Here are some examples from my prairie flowerbeds, which are approaching their peak now.

Prairie garden 26JL09 b

I have planted royal catchflies all out of proportion to their presence in our local prairies.

Royal catchfly b

As a result, I can count on regular visits from ruby-throated hummingbirds in July and August. Here is this year’s happy camper, photographed through the kitchen window.

Yard hummer 1b

I kind of like this impressionistic view of the same bird.

Yard hummer 2b

Red tubular flowers shout “hummingbird” to ecologists, and to the birds themselves. I wonder if royal catchfly flowers also have evolved the means to defeat nectar thieves.

Bombus bimaculatus yard b

This Bombus bimaculatus bumblebee behaved as though it were in one of those sticky-slow-motion nightmares. The hairs on the royal catchfly calyx either were affecting it chemically, or physically had grabbed it. It wasn’t struggling strongly, so I suspect the former. As far as I know, no bumblebee has a tongue long enough to reach the nectaries of this flower from the front. Bumblebees are known to pierce such flowers from the outside, getting nectar but bypassing the anthers, therefore not serving the plant’s need for cross pollination. Such nectar thievery could provide selective pressure favoring any adaptation in the plant that might prevent the would-be perps from being successful.

In any case, I have plenty of bimaculatus visiting my other flowers, and also a few Bombus griseocollis.

Bombus griseocollis yard b

A final species for this time is the monarch.

Monarch larva b

This half-grown caterpillar is doing well on one of my butterfly weed plants.

Little Fireflies

by Carl Strang

I came home the other day to find a caller, too small to press the doorbell.

Photinus marginellus doorbell b

This was a welcome sight. My visitor was a firefly, Photinus marginellus. There is no common name for this species, as far as I know. I simply call it the little firefly. It is much smaller than the common species we see in lawn areas. That one, P. pyralis, variously is known as the common eastern firefly or the big dipper firefly. The latter name refers to the male’s flashing signal in which he turns on his light, skywrites a “U” or “C” shape, switches off, then watches for a female’s response. The little firefly is half the length, less than a quarter of the mass of the big dipper firefly.

Photinus marginellus b

Its signal is simply a quick-on-quick-off, like a Morse code dot. I was pleased to see these in my woodland garden for the first time last year. It was a vindication for having even a small garden of this type. Little fireflies almost never appear around homes, though they are common in forest preserves in areas of tall dense herbaceous vegetation. They are the typical target prey of our female Photurus lucicrescens fireflies, but that is a story for another time.

Trimming Experiments

by Carl Strang

My woodland garden  is mainly composed of native plants. It is a garden, nevertheless, and there is an effect I want to create. For one thing, I intend for there to be a general increase in height from the flowerbed’s edge back to the house, punctuated by shrubs. Also, I want to maximize floral displays. In some cases I trim plants to achieve both goals.

October yard 4b

This photo from last October has, in the center, a patch of zigzag (broad-leaved) goldenrod, at this point in seed. I had trimmed it, and got the effect I wanted. However, other patches did less well. Also, I have had inconsistent results trimming Culver’s root. I have learned not to trim the latter species after June 15, but even then sometimes they don’t bloom. So, this year I decided to experiment.

Zigzag goldenrod trimmed 1b

In two patches of zigzag goldenrod, and two of Culver’s root, I trimmed the plants closest to the viewing edge of the flowerbed, but left the back halves untrimmed. The above photo shows one of the goldenrod patches. Here are the trimmed stems as of last weekend.

Zigzag goldenrod trimmed 2b

They are not sending up new shoots from leaf axils below the trims, as they usually do. Furthermore, many of the untrimmed stems already are preparing to bloom, at least 3 weeks early.

Zigzag goldenrod trimmed 3b

I applied the same treatment to Culver’s root. The trimmed ones again did not send up side shoots, as the following photo shows.

Culver's root trimmed 2b

The untrimmed ones are flowering, but are taller than I want to see in that part of the garden.

Culver's root trimmed 3b

On the other hand, the flowers are nice and seem to be standing out better than usual. This is the normal blooming time for this species.

Culver's root trimmed 1b

I deliberately placed the Culver’s root in front of the smooth arrow-wood (shrub) so that the latter’s dark foliage background would bring out the white flowers.

The season is not complete, so I may still revise my assessment. I have two hypotheses as to why the trimmed plants are not preparing to bloom. One is that with all the gloomy, rainy weather we have had this year, there wasn’t enough light to support axillary shoot growth. The other possibility is that the plants in each patch are connected, and when some were trimmed the patch resources were sent to the ones that were intact. I did the trimming early, on May 23, so I don’t think that is the cause. I also trim the asters in the back yard. This year I have not had to trim the asters nearly as much as usual, and the trimmed plants are not sending up a lot of side shoots, so I’m inclined to blame the weather and try the same experiment with these woodland plants next year. On the other hand, I like the effect I’m getting with the taller Culver’s root and may limit the trimming to the goldenrod.

Back Yard Gardens

by Carl Strang

Yesterday I shared my woodland gardens. Today I want to show the back yard. We’re not talking big. For instance, here is my wetland.

Yard 3JL 13b water garden 2009

My prairie is in two parts, both of the postage stamp scale. One part along the back fence will peak in blooming later. For now, some non-native day lilies are providing color.

Yard 3JL 16b fence bed

The other prairie plot has flowers through more of the season.

Yard 3JL 18b prairie

At the moment, the main eye-catchers are butterfly milkweed, white wild indigo, and spiderwort. Others will come along later.

Yard 3JL 19b prairie

On the same scale I also tuck in a vegetable garden.

Yard 3JL 22b vegetable

As I mentioned yesterday, gardening involves inquiry. Though the back yard is the sunniest area I have, the sun doesn’t really reach it until late morning, limiting what I can do there. I have had poor results with carrots and with garlic, for example, and no longer grow them. Beans have given such inconsistent results that I have abandoned them, too. This year I am focusing more on greens, adding Tuscan kale and Swiss chard to the old standby, lettuce.

Woodland Gardens

by Carl Strang

In an earlier post  I outlined my general, less-than-purist approach to gardening. I emphasize native species, but add others to make connections to my neighbors’ landscapes and to keep some color going through the season. Any gardener knows that there is an element of inquiry in the art. For instance, I have not had success with Jacob’s ladder in the main woodland garden in my side yard, but it does fine in the front.

Yard 10MY2b Polemonium

This year I am experimenting with a variegated form of Solomon’s seal in the front and side yards.

Yard 10MY3b var sol seal

My small side yard is dominated by 3 silver maples. Beneath them I have an understory with witch hazels, smooth arrow-wood, Juneberry, and pagoda dogwood. A mix of native woodland plants has something blooming for a good part of the season. Earlier the wild geraniums flowered.

Yard 23MY 3b geranium

These are supplemented by some non-native amsonias in the background.

Yard 23MY 12b Amsonia

If you look closely you may see the small pawpaws that ultimately will overtop the amsonias. These are growing from seeds I brought back from a vacation trip to southern Ohio, though pawpaw is native to northeast Illinois, too. Mid-summer brings a gap in blooming woodland wildflowers.

Yard 3JL 9b green textures

Though personally I like the variation in textures and shades of green, I like to bring in some color with tuberous begonias and hostas along the edge.

Yard 3JL 8b begonia hosta

This year I also added an urn with some New Guinea impatiens and a tropical Alocasia ‘Sarian’.

Yard 3JL 10b side yard container

I’m interested in seeing if these will keep going if I bring the urn indoors for winter.

P.S. this is the 200th post of this blog.

The Six Seasons

by Carl Strang

 

Yesterday I shared some of the first flowers in my yard, including a cluster of daffodils. Here are those daffodils after Sunday night’s snowstorm.

 

daffodil-snow-b

 

Here is the place where the bloodroots are blooming.

 

april-yard-snow-1b

 

At Mayslake Forest Preserve on Monday morning I found that animal activity in the night had been minimal. Birds were foraging, however. Here is a string of robin tracks.

 

robin-tracks-1b

 

Robins have made the transition. No longer hopping from branch to branch to glean fruit, they are running over the ground in search of worms and other invertebrates, snow or no snow.

 

I was reminded that in my personal scheme there are six seasons in northeastern Illinois: spring, summer, fall, early winter, mid winter and late winter. Early winter is November and December, mid winter January and February, and late winter March to the middle of April. This April 5 snowfall is an example of why I don’t consider winter to be fully over, yet.

 

When I got home in the afternoon I found the daffodils bent but unwilted.

 

daffodils-after-snow-b

 

The bloodroots weren’t even bent.

 

bloodroot-after-snow-b1

 

Seasons, whether 4 or 6 in number, are a human framework. Early spring flowers make no assumptions, but stand ready for the wild variations that can come in their season.

First Garden Flowers

by Carl Strang

 

On April 3 I noticed that the first bloodroot flowers were blooming in my garden.

 

bloodroot-2b

 

This particular bunch is the one growing closest to the south face of my house, and so its soil warms relatively quickly. Others will bloom later. These were the first flowers of the year in my yard from a native species. They were not, however, the first flowers.

 

siberian-squills-b

 

That honor always goes to Siberian squills, whose bulbs I planted in several patches a number of years ago. The bloodroot flowers were in a tie with the first daffodils, planted in honor of two friends who passed away in the late 1990’s.

 

daffodil-b

 

Clearly I am not a purist when it comes to native species. To be sure, my gardens are heavily biased toward native plants (did you spot the redbud stem behind the daffodils?). I will share the different plantings in future posts, but today I want to focus on one point of landscape design. This is not my own idea, but one I learned from the Morton Arboretum’s former lead landscape architect, Tony Tyznik. He emphasized that it’s important to take a wide view, and consider one’s yard in the context of the surrounding neighborhood. My neighborhood is dominated by small yards, each typically a lawn with a green ash tree, some foundation shrubs, and a few flowers which almost entirely are of popular, non-native varieties.

 

My own yard is bigger than average because it is on a corner, and it has more trees than the others, 3 silver maples in addition to the ash. The extra trees allow me to minimize my lawn through the expansion of flowerbeds beneath the trees’ canopies. However, a thin strip of lawn remains to flow with those on either side (another Tyznik principle is to regard the lawn as the frame, not as the picture; a picture without a frame would be as unaesthetic as the typical suburban emphasis on the frame). Also, especially around the edges, I have scattered non-native annuals and perennials that reflect the popular choices of my neighbors. Behind those eye-catchers, there is a much larger area nearly pure in native plants. Despite the relatively low quality of my narrow lawn, I get frequent compliments from the neighbors: the small compromise of a few non-native flowers produces harmony in more than just the visual.