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The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like smoke upon the
hills.
-Bliss Carman "A Vagabond Song"
Autumn is the time for harvesting the year’s labors,
planning for next year, and planting for the future.
Although gardeners can plant throughout the seasons,
the ultimate time to transplant most vegetation is
during the annual falling of the leaves.
| The Inevitable Fall Race |
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No project ever seems to be without a hitch or a
glitch, and for me bulb-planting season is a series
of hurdles in a race with time. The time is at hand
and I am ready to face the falling of the leaves,
with plenty of garden projects. I can’t wait to
tackle the stacks of fall catalogs cluttering my
office. Thumbing through every page, looking at the
glossy images and reading their descriptions, I know
that some catalogs are written by expert word
wranglers, who spin creative plant characterizations
that urge me to buy, buy, buy. I feel like a child
in a toy store, as bright red, striped or pastel
tulips jump out from the page. I mark, tag and
mutilate each catalog filled with giant alliums,
tulips, daffodils, crocus, lilies and every little
specialty bulb, tuber, corm or rhizome. Writing down
each selection, the grand total reaches proportions
rivaling Santa’s toy list. After treating myself
for shock, I take another look at the items, I move
many entries over to the wishful thinking column,
until the amount of plants left align with my garden
budget.
I have a month to prepare a space in the garden for
my new purchases; I’m confident I will complete the
groundwork before the bulbs arrive at my front door.
With the list whittled down to a manageable amount
of plants, I am positive there is room in the
garden, after I make a few adjustments, and time to
plant every one. I send off the orders.
The first box arrives, announced by a ring of the
doorbell. I quickly open the box like a Christmas
present, eager to see the contents. I spill bags of
bulbs, envelopes, and planting directions across the
kitchen counter, showering flecks of soil and
packing material across the newly mopped floor.
Boxes always seem to arrive after a thorough
cleaning. Yet I don’t care. For now I’m going to
dance around the kitchen, holding bags of bulbs in
each hand, anticipating the production of digging
bulbs into the soil, for next spring’s floral show.
Finally, the rest of the boxes arrive. I’ve checked
them off my list, saved all the receipts, put each
bulb name into my database. Sound organized? I
haven’t planted anything yet.
I grab the bulb planter, a shovel, fertilizer and
the first bulbs to go into the ground, throwing
everything into a five-gallon bucket. I walk into
the garden about the same time as an autumn squall
opens its flood gate, dumping a large quantity of
huge raindrops, soaking me within seconds. Looking
at the sky, I mutter, “Very funny!” I’m determined
to continue my planting quest, in spite of nature
spitting on the ground; I dash inside, slip into my
hat, rain coat and muck boots. Quickly the small
storm passes through, and the sun peeks out; a
rainbow in the distance reveals the squall is still
kicking up a fuss somewhere else. Here I stand in
the fresh-washed air, a bag of 100 lily-flowering
tulips in one hand, a shovel in the other, wondering
where I am going to plant them.
The sun shines its warmth down where I plunge my
shovel in, to loosen up the humus rich, moist earth;
I breathe in the earthy aroma of healthy soil. This
is the perfect place for bulbs to send up their
green leaves and for colorful blossoms to herald a
new growing season. I plant the last one in the
large drift of closely spaced tulips, shovel the
remaining dirt over the deep holes, and water the
ground thoroughly. My hands are caked with soil
after discarding my gloves halfway through the
project; my face is streaked with mud and sweat, but
I keep working, digging, plopping bulbs in their
holes, backfilling and watering.
Across the lane, a squirrel in a tree launches into
animated chatter. I assume it’s about the
anticipation of digging the disturbed soil where I
just finished planting some over-priced specialty
bulbs. Squinting my eyes towards the clamor, hoping
to catch a glimpse of the chatterbox, I drop my
shovel, run to the toolbox, rummage through a pile
of tools until I find wire cutters. I grab a roll of
one-inch gauge chicken wire set aside for another
project. Cutting the chicken wire to size and
placing it over the newly planted bed, I hear the
squirrel continue its excited chatter; yet another
one joins in the chorus.
Two squirrels appear in my paranoid imagination,
plotting their assault on the freshly planted bulbs.
Looking at the chicken wire haphazardly placed over
the soft, loose soil, I doubt this will discourage
any self-respecting, intelligent rodent for long. In
case the bushy-tailed creatures are cagey enough to
remove the wire deterrent, I haul in large rocks,
placing them over the top of the wire. Throwing
compost over the bed to hide it, I anticipate I’ll
remember to remove the rodent deterrent before the
bulbs break ground this winter, at the moment I feel
the bulbs are safe from bandits.
Only 999 bulbs left to plant.
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| Ample Fall Flowers with Colchicums |
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It wouldn’t be fall in my garden without the
stunning flowers of Colchicum ‘Water Lily’
pushing its blossoms out of the soil. Often called
autumn crocus, colchicums are not true
crocus, but members of the lily
family—Liliaceae. In spring, the plants
deliver up seven to ten-inch long, narrowly ovate
leaves that remain in the garden, feeding the bulb,
until July. Later, in early fall, the ample double,
lavender-pink flower at the end of a leafless stalk
opens, creating a striking floral scene that lasts
for weeks in the autumn garden.
This colchicum cultivar came to my garden
from a generous gardening friend, who dug up the whole
plant while in bloom and separated the bulbs. Digging
them while they are flowering or in leaf is not a
recommended practice; however, she knew how to
handle this without harming them, and now I have
plenty in the garden. For others, without her magic
touch, and myself, divide the bulbs while they are
dormant.
Commercially used as a pharmaceutical drug, all
parts of colchicums are toxic to humans as
well as animals, especially the bulbs and seeds.
They contain an alkaloid, colchicine, which
affects the nervous system and can cause kidney
damage, along with convulsions, paralysis, coma and
death. Use gloves when handling, as contact with the
corms may cause skin irritation.
Dioscorides (50-79 A.D.) used an extract from the
species leaves Colchicum autumnale, soaked
in wine, to "dissolve tumors and growth." Pliny
(23-79 A.D.) and Ibn Sina (980-1037) A.D.) believed
the concoction worked; however, others such as Galen
(129-210 A.D.) did not. Still others thought of it
as a poison, because of its side affects—nausea,
vomiting and lack of appetite. In modern
medicine, it is now known that colchicine is
highly effective against certain malignancies.
Colchicums are also used in plant genetics to
double chromosomes.
Plant out colchicums three inches deep and
six to eight inches apart, as soon as they arrive
and before they bloom. When the leaves come up in
spring, it is important to allow them to remain
intact until they die back to the ground. Cutting
the leaves back too soon will rob the bulbs of
needed nutrients. Lift and divide while dormant,
every three to four years, before they become
over-crowded.
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| Plant Bits |
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- Every part of the wisteria
vine, especially the seed and seedpods, is toxic.
Although seldom fatal, children become seriously ill
after ingesting one or two lima bean look-alike
seeds. Even though reportedly wisteria
flowers were eaten in China, it is a good idea to
consider them toxic until proven otherwise.
- Old pest control recommendation—if it moves
unhurriedly, step on it; however, if it moves
quickly, leave it alone, it will almost certainly
slay something else.
- Lily bulbs do not go completely dormant. This
means they will sit in bins at sales counters for
too long, thus exposing them to fluctuating warm or cold
temperatures, where they eventually dry out. In the
ideal world, order directly from lily growers for
autumn planting. Specialists dig their bulbs when
they are ready to harvest and immediately send to
their customers; the buyer quickly plants them
upon receipt.
- Tulip-breaking virus or TBV, causing many of the
color streaking in tulips, is the most lethal virus
known to lilies. If you grow the virus-infected
tulip, Tulipa 'Zommerschoon', the only one now sold
with the disease, plant them far away from your
lilies. Please note, not all broken colors in modern
tulips are caused by TBV; hybrids such as 'Rembrandt',
'Union Jack' and 'Sorbet' are bred for variegated
color without using the virus. If any of your solid
colored tulips begin to display variable color and
reduced vigor, dig them up and destroy the bulbs.
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| Attack Spiders in the Northwest? |
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I think I’ve seen everything until along comes a
product like the Birds-Away Attack Spider,
meant to deter woodpeckers and other flying
creatures from harming house siding. The spider is
activated by sound and drops down on an 18 inch long
string, making a loud noise that scares any
self-preserving bird away.
This is a handy tool for bird control; however, I
find myself thinking of other mischievous ways to
use it. Startling home burglars by introducing an
attack spider device over any potential entry point
would be a fine use. Potential thieves might think
twice about what’s in store if they continue with
their task of breaking and entering, especially if
they watched the movie Home Alone. Another
use is a Halloween prank to scare the trick out of
trick-or-treaters who stand at the door looking for
your handout. A more likely scenario is the attack
spider startling me into a leap of terror, when I
forget I put it up to deter two-legged creatures of
all kinds. However, my heart can use a little panic
start occasionally.
All fantasy aside, the Birds-Away Attack Spider
is a good investment for protecting your home from
birds pecking your siding away in search of insects.
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| Identify September's Flower Contest |
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 Think you know your flowers?
This contest challenges
you to identify a flower’s genus. Enter our
quarterly contest; if you correctly identify the
genus, your name is submitted towards a quarterly
drawing. At the end of the contest, a name is drawn
and the winner receives a $50.00 gift certificate
from Amazon.com.
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| Birds of Washington State, A Review |
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Authors: Brian H. Bell and George Kennedy
ISBN: 1-55105-430-2
Is it a female tanager or a Wilson’s warbler?
Gardeners who invite birds to their realms often
want useful and quick ways to identify them, their
habitats and food sources. Identifying unfamiliar
species is exciting for backyard birders and
gardeners. Birds of Washington State, a helpful
reference for those who enjoy the birds in their
havens, is a great choice for the backyard birder as
well as the professional. The book is especially
helpful in identifying the species in our location.
Bird books with a larger regional focus are helpful
too; however, there may be many similar species from
other parts of the country, making it harder to
identify the one that is in your own backyard.
Inside the pages of Birds of Washington State
is a checklist of the 477 species of birds recorded
within the boundaries of Washington State, having
320 birds catalogued with illustrations and detailed
information. The book is divided into color coded
family
groupings of birds for ease of identification. In
addition, the birds are divided into two
sections—birds that are commonly known as songbirds
or perching birds and nonpasserines that make up
about 63 percent of known species in Washington state.
Not only is this book great for the backyard birder,
it is a handy guide to learn about birds and where
their habitats are in the state. There is a section
for each bird, telling where the best places are to
view them. Hopefully, for gardeners, the habitat
they create for birds will be the best possible
place to view them. Each listing tells the bird’s
diet, habitat, nesting and even their voice. Birds
of Washington State is a wonderful resource; it is
the first book I reach for when I am looking up a
new bird in the neighborhood.
You can order the book online at Amazon.com
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What's in Color |
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Acer palmatum 'Tamukeya'
Clematis 'Helios'
This long-flowering vine is hardy enough and
suitable for containers in the maritime Pacific
Northwest,
making it a choice vine for a small garden, deck or
balcony where horizontal space is at a premium and
vertical space is plenty.
Height: 6 feet (2 m).
Blooms: With careful pruning in late winter,
it will flower from late spring to early autumn.
Flower color: Sunny yellow tepals with maroon
stamens.
Wildlife value: Attracts hummingbirds.
Read more...
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