We’re off to Pennsylvania today to enjoy fall in Rhonda Molin’s garden.
Japanese anemones (Anemonehupehensis, Zones 4–8) are such stars of the fall garden with their abundant flowers. And it’s nice to have pink tones at a time of year when yellows and oranges often dominate.
Fall-blooming witch hazel (Hamamelisvirginiana, Zones 3–9) is native around much of eastern North America, with the delicate gold flowers usually showing up just as the leaves drop for a beautiful display before winter.
Actea (Acteasimplex, Zones 4–8) is a native perennial with several beautiful selections boasting dramatic dark foliage. The tall spires of white flowers come at the end of summer and add wonderful fragrance.
This selection of hostas still looks perfect. They’ll switch to a gorgeous yellow fall color before vanishing underground for the winter.
Italian arum (Arumitalicum, Zones 5–9) is a great plant for shade. It goes dormant during the summer, but then the leaves return in the fall, along with these showy orange berries. And the leaves stay green all winter, providing great interest for the cold months of the year.
Turtlehead (Cheloneobliqua, Zones 5–9) is a great native perennial for sun to partial shade with cute little pink flowers from late summer into fall.
The twisting branches and delicate leaves of this spectacular Japanese maple(Acer palmatum, Zones 5–9) make a magical shady spot where Rhonda’s grandson likes to play.
Colchicum (Colchicum ‘Waterlily’, Zones 4–7) bursts into dramatic lavender blooms in the fall. The leaves come up in the spring, then go dormant all summer before showing up again as if out of nowhere.
Have a garden you’d like to share?
Have photos to share? We’d love to see your garden, a particular collection of plants you love, or a wonderful garden you had the chance to visit!
To submit, send 5-10 photos to [email protected] along with some information about the plants in the pictures and where you took the photos. We’d love to hear where you are located, how long you’ve been gardening, successes you are proud of, failures you learned from, hopes for the future, favorite plants, or funny stories from your garden.
Mugo pines can’t be beaten if you’re looking for something to add texture and year-round interest to the garden. The long needles are distinctive, even more so when they’re variegated or those that change color.
That’s right, some cultivars have needles that change color from summer to winter. Instead of dropping from the plant like deciduous leaves, the color alters from season to season.
Mugo pines come in a wide range of sizes, from itty-bitty dwarf shrubs to towering trees.
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Also known as creeping pine, mountain pine, or the rather uninspiring monkier of bog pine, part of what makes mugo pine such a stellar garden option is that it only sheds its needles once every four years.
If you’ve ever spent the weekend raking up needles from the lawn or picking them out of your feet when you walk outside barefoot, you appreciate what a treasure a pine that doesn’t shed frequently is.
Thriving in USDA Hardiness Zones 2 to 7, this species is tough as nails when it comes to the cold. It’s not as fond of the sweltering heat, though.
Whether you need something for a rock garden, to fill a pot on your patio, or as a reliable specimen tree in your lawn, you know a mugo will have you covered.
Ready to learn all about this evergreen stalwart? Here’s what we’re going to go over:
Incidentally, mugo pines have a bit of a reputation for not sticking to their advertised size. When you’re planting a dwarf tree, you want it to stay dwarf.
But more than one person I know has found themselves digging up a tree that turned out to be nothing like what they expected.
If you’ve heard the stories and you’re a little nervous, don’t worry. We’ll discuss this and how to avoid it.
But first, let’s talk about this plant’s history.
Cultivation and History
Mugo(pronounced mew-go, not moo-go) pines are indigenous to mountainous regions of Europe. You’ll find them growing wild in the Alps, the Pyrenees, the Carpathians, and other mountainous regions in the Balkan Peninsula.
They have also naturalized throughout Scandinavia and Finland, where they were originally imported to help with erosion control and as ornamentals. Now, the mugo pine is considered invasive in some areas of Europe.
The mugo pine typically grows from 3,000 feet above sea level to the tree line, though it is found in lower elevations in modern Germany, Poland, and Bulgaria. It’s also cultivated at much lower elevations.
In the wild, it rarely reaches more than 20 feet tall, usually remaining much smaller.
It’s no wonder that people started cultivating it to use in gardens, since you can enjoy the evergreen splendor of a pine without having to plant a massive tree that takes up a lot of space.
The shrubs are typically about twice as wide as they are tall, but as there are many cultivars out there, there can be some variation in their shapes.
Underneath the three-inch-long stiff green needles, that grow in bundles of two, is grayish-brown, scaly bark. The cones are up to two inches long and may appear in clusters or singly.
The reason that you can find so many mugo pines in gardens across the globe owes itself to the fact that mountaineering took off in the Western world in the mid-1800s.
As people scaled the challenging slopes of Europe, they came back with an admiration for the rocky alpine gardens and the plants that inhabited them.
Good old mountain pines were one such species. Their popularity began to spread rapidly throughout the rest of Europe beyond their native range and across the pond to North America, where they first appeared in nursery catalogs around the turn of the 20th century.
Today, you can find them at practically every nursery.
Mugo Pine Propagation
It’s possible to grow mugo pines from seed, though they might not grow as an exact replica of the parent plant.
If you want to be certain about the results, you can propagate pines from cuttings or purchase a plant from just about any nursery.
Starting new trees from cuttings is a slow process, but it’s fairly reliable.
During the winter, when the plant is dormant, take a six-inch softwood cutting from the tip of a branch and place it in a container filled with moist potting medium. Keep the potting medium moist as you wait for roots to grow.
Fall or spring is the best time to transplant a purchased tree. Dig a nice-sized hole about twice the width and depth of the container the plant is currently growing in. Remove the tree from the container, loosen up the roots, and place it in the hole.
Fill in with soil and ensure that the tree is sitting at the same height that it was in the container. Then, just add water! The soil should be moist but not wet. If the soil settles, add a bit more.
Mugo pines don’t grow in hot, arid regions in the wild. If you live in the desert, it doesn’t mean you can’t grow this plant, you’re just going to need to pay particular attention to irrigation. They prefer consistently moist soil.
Moist doesn’t mean wet. If you were to grab a handful of soil and squeeze it in your hand, it would fall back apart when you open your hand, and no water would squeeze out.
That’s what you’re aiming for. If you squeeze the soil and it sticks together and water drips out, the soil is too wet.
If you are concerned that you’re overwatering, you probably are. These plants will do better if you err on the side of too dry rather than too wet.
If the top inch or two of soil dries out between watering, it’s totally no big deal. But aim to keep the soil consistently moist if you can without overwatering.
The soil absolutely must be well-draining. If you don’t have well-draining soil, it’s best to grow a dwarf type in a container or plant in a raised bed. You can also amend your soil really well, but you’re going to have to dig deep and make sure you plant a dwarf type.
Dig down at least four feet and mix in as much well-rotted compost as you need to make your soil well-draining.
A little bit of clay in the soil is fine, as is a bit of sand. Mugo pines will adapt to either. They can also grow in acidic and slightly alkaline soil, with a pH anywhere from 4.5 to 7.5.
While they tolerate as little as four hours of sun per day, they do best with a full eight hours or more of full sun. This is doubly true for the types that change color. You will see much better color variation in full sun.
Mugos appreciate a bit of food, but don’t go overboard. In the spring, heap well-rotted compost around the plant inside the drip line, just make sure it’s not touching the trunk or stems. That’s it!
Smaller cultivars lend themselves beautifully to container growing. Depending on the size of the mature tree, you can grow mugo pines in something as small as a bonsai container.
Some of the small cultivars, which we will discuss shortly, could grow comfortably in a 12-inch diameter pot. The key is to find a container heavy enough that it can support the mature plant, especially if it’s an upright type.
Whatever you choose, it needs drainage holes. Fill the container with any old water-retentive potting soil.
With container growing, you need to keep a close eye on soil moisture. Containers tend to dry out more quickly than soil in the garden.
Growing Tips
Plant in full sun or partial shade.
Fertilize with well-rotted compost in the spring.
Grow in well-draining soil.
Pruning and Maintenance
Mugo pines can be kept more compact using a method known as candle pruning. The “candles” that this method references is the new growth at the tips of the branches.
This new growth is brighter than the old growth and the “candles” are typically straight, with the needles tucked together, rather than open.
Just grab one of these and snap it off. Don’t worry, they’re soft.
This prevents the new growth from growing too long and adding any length to the branch.
There’s no need to prune otherwise unless you want to provide a little shape to your plant. If you must prune off any dead, dying, or diseased limbs, remove the entire branch, but be sure to leave the branch collar intact.
The branch collar is a swollen bulge where the branch meets the trunk.
Mugo Pine Cultivars to Select
There are three subspecies of P. mugo. These are mugo, uncinata, and rotunda.
P. mugo subsp. mugo grows in the eastern and southern part of its native range, and the subspecies uncinata covers the western and northern part of the range.
Rotunda is a naturally-occurring hybrid of uncinata and mugo that developed in the region where both subspecies overlap.
The mugo subspecies is the one from which most modern garden cultivars are bred. It grows to about five feet tall and ten feet wide with a rounded shape.
These pines are sometimes mislabeled as muhgo, but they refer to the same plant.
You can find cheap mugo pines all over the place, but beware that if the plant is listed as a generic “dwarf,” you will possibly end up with a full-sized specimen.
My grandma had a pair of so-called “dwarf” mugo pines that grew so large that she swore off any plant that claimed to be “dwarf” for the rest of her life. She didn’t trust them.
If you want a plant that will stay petite, look for a vegetatively propagated named cultivar. Those grown from seed can vary massively in size.
Here are a few lovely cultivars that will grow to a predictable size (with one exception):
Aurea
Remember how we talked about color-changing mountain pines?
‘Aurea’ is a semi-dwarf cultivar that changes colors, so it provides a surprising shift in tone as the seasons change.
It has golden-green needles in the spring and summer, changing to golden yellow in the fall and winter.
‘Aurea’ grows to about six feet tall and twice as wide with an extremely dense, mounding growth habit.
Carstens
Teeny tiny in size, but big and bold in color, ‘Carstens’ has green needles in the summer that change to bright golden yellow in the fall.
It also remains under two feet tall and wide with a nice rounded shape, but it can even stay as small as a foot tall and wide without any pruning, especially if you grow it in a container.
Maple Ridge Nursery has this cute little color-changer in a gallon pot option.
Golden Mound
‘Golden Mound’ is another one of the magical color-changing cultivars.
In the summer, the leaves on this mounding dwarf variety are green, but they transition to a golden-yellow hue in the winter on a plant that stays under three feet tall and four feet wide.
Pumilio
P. mugo var. pumilio is an extremely common variety thanks to its naturally occurring dense, compact growth habit.
It stays low to the ground and occasionally takes on a prostrate growth habit, but typically has upright growth. Once mature, it’s capable of reaching five feet tall and ten feet wide.
This is one of the “dwarf” mountain pines that can get people into trouble because it is usually sold as a dwarf that only grows three or four feet tall, and it might stay that size, but you can expect it to grow a few feet larger in both directions.
That’s because it’s a variety, not a cultivar, which means it wasn’t selectively bred to have a specific appearance. It is a natural variation of the species that occurred on its own.
It still has its wild genetic heritage, making it a bit less predictable than cultivars selected for specific traits.
Don’t let that put you off. This is a popular option for good reason – it’s robust, reliable, and good-looking. Snag one at Fast Growing Trees.
Slowmound
‘Slowmound’ isn’t quite as cold hardy as its relatives. It can grow as far north as Zone 3 or even Zone 2 with some protection.
Sorry to those in the Alaskan interior, you’ll need to try a different cultivar. For the rest of us, this plant has slightly darker needles than the species and stays petite at just four feet tall and six feet wide.
‘Sunshine’ is so cool. It’s one of my favorites because it reminds me of a porcupine. If you look closely at the quills on the back of a porcupine, they are usually striped, with dark ends and lighter banding towards the base of the quill.
‘Sunshine’ has similar variegation, with green tips and bands of creamy white or yellow alternating with green all the way down the needle. It’s a petite option with a nice round three-foot shape.
Grab one (or, better yet, a group of three) in gallon- or three-gallon pots at Maple Ridge Nursery.
Tennenbaum
Like a perfect Christmas tree, ‘Tennenbaum’ has an upright, pyramidal habit that reaches about 11 feet tall and five feet wide at maturity with a single main trunk rather than the typical multi-stem growth habit of other mugo pines.
It was found in a nursery bed at South Dakota State University.
It holds its deep green color well all year long.
Managing Pests and Disease
So long as you place them in the right growing environment, these plants are pretty problem-free.
These aren’t one of those plants that inevitably experience some kind of issue.
With something like roses or apple trees, you know you’re probably going to have to address a pest or disease issue (or both) at some point.
But a mugo might go its whole life without ever experiencing any trouble.
Plus, herbivores ignore them. Let’s discuss a couple of pests that may bother your plants.
Pests
There are two main pests to watch for:
Pine Needle Scale
Scale are insects that suck the sap out of plants. In pines, it’s the pine needle scale (Chionaspis pinifoliae) that you need to watch out for.
As the name suggests, these pests feed on the needles of the tree. When viewed from a distance, the needles will appear to have turned lighter in color or perhaps have some sort of white coating.
You might not even notice a small infestation, but in home gardens, a small one can rapidly turn into a big infestation.
If you look closely, you’ll see the insects lining the needles. The females are about an eighth of an inch long, and the males are about half that.
They’re essentially stationary, finding a spot on the needle to latch onto and feed. As they feed, the needles turn yellow or brown and drop from the plant. As the infestation progresses, the branches start to die, usually starting with lower branches.
You should make it a rule to inspect your pines closely once every three or four months. It’s easy to treat a small infestation, but a large one can be a battle, and the plant will look worse for the wear.
If you identify scale, treat them right away using insecticidal soap or neem oil. Both work well so long as you follow the manufacturer’s directions.
It’s always handy to have one or both in your gardening toolkit. If you don’t already have some, visit Arbico Organics for 32 ounces of ready-to-use insecticidal soap from Monterey.
Pine Sawfly
The European sawfly (Neodiprion sertifer) is a common pest, especially on mugo pines. The females insert eggs into the needles in the fall. To the observer, it looks like a bunch of brown or tan lumps on the needles. Again, this is why it’s important to inspect your plants regularly.
In the spring, the inch-long green-gray larvae emerge and start chowing down on the needles. They move in groups, stripping the needles from a branch before moving on to the next one. They then pupate and emerge as black flies to start the cycle over again.
When you see the larvae, you can put on a glove and wipe them off the branch and into soapy water.
If you identify the eggs in the fall, cut the infested branches off the tree.
I know they look like caterpillars, but they aren’t, so caterpillar-targeting insecticides won’t work. Something like insecticidal soap, which targets sawflies will work, so long as you apply it when the larvae are present.
Disease
If you grow your plant in a full sun location with well-draining soil, chances are low that you’ll come across this disease. But you should be aware of it.
Dothistroma Needle Blight
Dothistroma needle blight is a fungal disease caused by Dothistroma pini. At first, it shows up as dark spots on the needles. As the disease advances, these spots turn yellow and then turn rusty brown. Finally, the tip of the needle dies.
At any point, you might see tiny black specks, which are the fungal spores, on the needles.
In huge trees, it’s not such a big deal, but in small mugo shrubs or young specimens, the disease can kill a plant outright.
Treatment will typically take a few years because fungicides will prevent the spread, but won’t eradicate an existing infection. So you have to keep at it until the infected needles drop.
Speaking of, be sure to remove any fallen needles and dispose of them in the trash to avoid spread.
Spray your tree once in the late spring with copper fungicide. Then, spray again four weeks later. Repeat this every year until the symptoms are gone.
Don’t already have copper fungicide in your gardening toolkit?
Arbico Organics carries Bonide’s Liquid Copper in 32-ounce ready to use, 16- or 32- ounce ready to spray, and 16-ounce concentrate.
Best Uses for Mugo Pines
Mugo pines are hugely popular as a bonsai option. The long needles contrast really nicely with the petite shape. They also lend themselves well to shaping.
I mean, check out this twisted version at Bonsai Boy. It’s destined to be a dramatic specimen.
The dwarf types are perfect for rock or Japanese gardens, as well as for growing in containers.
Both the full-sized and dwarf types make excellent specimens or hedges, depending on your needs.
Have you ever tried mugolio or pine cone syrup? That’s made out of the buds of mugo pines.
It’s incredibly delicious, with a honey-like flavor with notes of pine and maple.
You can buy some in a 3.6-ounce jar at Amazon or make your own by combining pine buds and honey and allowing the mixture to steep for six weeks. Then you filter out the buds and you’re left with a tasty treat.
The needles also make a delicious and nutritious herbal tea.
Quick Reference Growing Guide
Plant Type:
Evergreen tree or woody shrub
Foliage Color:
Green, cream, yellow, gold
Native to:
Europe
Maintenance:
Low
Hardiness (USDA Zones):
2-7
Tolerance:
Some drought, some clay, some sand, pollution
Bloom Time/Season:
Evergreen
Soil Type:
Sandy to loamy clay
Exposure:
Full to partial sun
Soil pH:
4.5-7.5
Time to Maturity:
10 years (depending on cultivar)
Soil Drainage:
Well-draining
Spacing:
6 feet (depending on cultivar)
Attracts:
Birds
Planting Depth:
Same depth as container (potted plants), 1/4 inch (seeds)
Bonsai, containers, hedge, Japanese garden, rock garden, specimen
Spread:
Up to 30 feet
Family:
Pinaceae
Growth Rate:
Moderate
Genus:
Pinus
Water Needs:
Moderate
Species:
Mugo
Common Pests and Diseases:
Sawfly, scale; Dothistroma needle blight
Subspecies:
Mugo, rotunda, uncinata
Make Room for a Mugo
If your garden is lacking some texture and evergreen color, in a shape that ranges from low-growing and round to tall and pyramidal, I dare you to find something better than a mugo pine.
Are you going to plant something big and bold? Or one of the many dwarf options? Is ‘Sunshine’ calling your name? Let us know which you’re going to grow and how you intend to use it in the comments.
You might not realize it, but many of those elegant Japanese maples that you see at the store were propagated through grafting, not seed or cuttings.
This tried and true method has been the go-to for centuries.
Maybe you always thought grafting was for the advanced, super-experienced growers. It isn’t. Anyone can do it.
When you have a Japanese maple tree you love, you might want to be able to recreate it.
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Or maybe you have an idea of a tree you’d like to cultivate, but you aren’t sure how to go about it. Grafting can help you.
If you’ve never grafted Japanese maples before, don’t feel overwhelmed. We’ll break the process down, step by step. Here’s what to expect:
Defining Terms
Grafting is a form of asexual or vegetative propagation that involves combining two separate plants to create a new plant.
The top part is called the scion, and the bottom part is called the rootstock. The rootstock might be just a section of roots with a trunk and no branches or leaves, or it might be an existing tree that you add a branch to.
People have been grafting for millennia in order to improve plants. You can pair, say, a rootstock that features resistance to fungal disease with a scion that has particularly elegant leaves, but typically struggles with fungal issues.
Many people use grafting to propagate new Japanese maples and growers have done so for centuries. These days, Acer palmatum stock is usually the standard, but it’s your garden, and you should experiment as you see fit.
When grafting, you’re going to cut into the tree to some degree, depending on the type of graft you use. So we need to define the parts of the plant that we’re talking about.
First, on the outside of a branch or trunk we have the bark, as most of us know.
Right inside that is the cambium layer, which is soft because it’s the newly-developing part of the wood. This cambium will eventually become new bark or sapwood, and a new layer of cambium will form beneath that.
Photo by Kristine Lofgren.
We want to connect the cambium layers between the scion and the rootstock when we graft.
Inside that is the sapwood, then the heartwood, and then the pith at the center.
Grafting is usually done in the late winter or early spring, just before the leaf buds start to swell and open. The tree shouldn’t have any foliage when you start this work.
Supplies Needed
You are going to need to get yourself two healthy Japanese maple plants to obtain your scion and rootstock.
You can buy these, start them yourself by propagating cuttings or seed, or take from existing plants in the garden, assuming you have permission.
If you want to graft onto an existing Japanese maple tree in your garden, you may certainly do that. Many people opt to purchase rootstock.
Some specialty growers will have A. palmatum rootstock available that was grown specifically for grafting. You could also opt to purchase a tried and true cultivar such as ‘Red Emperor.’
For grafting purposes, you probably want to start with a small plant, like a tree in gallon- or three-gallon container, like the ‘Red Emperor’ plants available at Maple Ridge Nursery.
You also need a sharp knife. You might be able to get away with using a dull knife for some garden chores, but this isn’t one of them. The knife must be sharp.
You should also wash it in soapy water and sanitize it with a bleach or rubbing alcohol solution to avoid introducing any nasty pathogens that could harm your new tree.
I highly recommend buying a grafting knife if you can. They make the work easier and safer. Plus, you can use them for lots of garden chores or foraging for mushrooms.
Amazon carries a folding version from Linsen with two different blade options.
You might want some thick gloves, though wearing them makes it hard to do some of the dexterous work of cutting.
Some people will wrap their thumb and forefinger in layers of electrical tape to protect themselves, and I’ve also seen people wrap several bandages around their fingers to protect them.
Whatever method you choose, remember that you’re working with a very sharp knife to make precise cuts, and a slip could spell disaster.
You might also want a second pair of hands, if someone is available to assist you.
Cut the Scion
As I mentioned, most people graft Japanese maples in the late winter or early spring, but those in areas with cooler summer climates can take their cuttings in late summer.
That’s when many growers in the Pacific Northwest, a hotbed of Japanese maple growing, get to work.
Take the cuttings in the morning when it is cool. Keep them cool as you work.
A lot of gardeners do their yearly pruning in late winter or early spring and just pick through their clippings to find a suitable branch for grafting.
Locate a healthy, pliable branch that shows no signs of disease. If you gently bend the branch and it breaks or cracks, cut off the entire dead branch back to the main stem or trunk and discard the portion that you broke.
A branch with at least the diameter of a pencil is about the right size that you want to work with, unless you’re dealing with bonsai. In that case, there is no minimum size limitation. Clip off your scion, using a pair of clippers.
If you’re working with a Japanese maple branch that is in leaf, cut off all of the leaves close to the main stem. Cut off any branches, as well.
Photo by Kristine Lofgren.
Clip off the scion using a pair of clippers. Then, take your sharp knife and cut the base at an angle.
The angle you choose depends on the type of graft that you’re doing. The veneer graft seems to be the most successful with Japanese maples, so assuming that’s what you’ve selected, cut the branch on one side to create a 30 to 35 degree angle with a fine point.
There are also tongue, cleft, splice, and bark grafts. Really, any cut that can be mirrored in the wood of the scion to match the rootstock will work. The point is that we need to join the two parts as tightly as possible.
At the higher end of the angled cut you made, remove a half inch or so of bark to expose the cambium layer above the cut.
Photo by Kristine Lofgren.
Remember, it’s important to be careful as you work and wear protective tape or gloves if you can!
You’re probably cutting toward yourself since that’s the easiest way to work and a slip of the knife may end in disaster. I have a scar the length of my thumb and an inch thick the entire way that attests to the dangers of grafting.
If you don’t want to have to make a surprise trip to the ER for eight stitches, be careful!
If you can’t graft right away, wrap the cuttings in a moist paper towel and place them in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.
Cut the Rootstock
Before you cut your rootstock, examine the length and width of the wedge cut you made on the scion.
That will inform how large of a cut you need to make on the rootstock. You want them to match up like puzzle pieces.
Photo by Kristine Lofgren.
For a veneer graft, use your knife to create an angled cut into the rootstock that extends about a quarter of the way through. The depth isn’t the important part, though.
The important thing is that the scion and the rootstock angles match up and the cambium layers meet when pressed together.
Combine the Scion and Rootstock
Now it’s time to insert the cutting into the base.
Think of it as plugging in the cambium of the scion to the cambium of the rootstock. If you don’t insert a plug into the outlet firmly, you won’t have power.
If you don’t insert the cambium layer of one part into the other, you won’t get growth.
Photo by Kristine Lofgren.
This is where a second pair of hands is helpful.
Insert the scion into the cut in the rootstock. Make sure it’s as snug as can be, and look for any obvious gaps. If you see gaps, you can gently shape the scion a little more to make the seal snug.
Once you have a good fit, wrap rubber bands around the plant to hold the two pieces together tight. Tie off the rubber bands to hold everything securely.
Care
Now your goal is to keep the plant moist but not too moist. If you have a little plant humidifier, place it next to that.
You can find affordable little humidifiers that work well in a small area, like this one by Levoit, available at Amazon.
If you don’t want to go that route, you can tent a plastic bag over the grafted cutting.
Use a stick or something similar to prop the bag up so it doesn’t touch the scion. Mist inside the bag once a day.
I highly recommend using a humidifier rather than a plastic tent because it allows for more air movement and results in less chance of fungal issues.
You also want to keep the soil moist but not wet. Picture a well-wrung-out sponge. That’s the moisture level you’re aiming for.
Keep the grafted cutting in a cool area with direct morning sun and diffused light for the rest of the day.
Cuttings taken in the winter should show signs of growth by the late spring. Those taken in the late summer should be left in place over the winter and should have new growth by early spring.
If you grafted onto a live Japanese maple plant that’s already growing outside, there’s no extra work needed except to check the scion now and then to make sure it looks good and new growth is developing.
Remove the rubber bands once you see lots of healthy new growth.
Grafts that fail will be evident pretty quickly. The wood turns darker and the buds will appear deflated.
Grafting Is Garden Magic
Sometimes grafting seems like magic to me. We took a branch and a base and slapped them together, and they merged.
If all goes according to plan, in a few months, you should have a new Japanese maple tree! You didn’t even have to make a potion or conjure up magical spirits.
How did the process go for you? Did you run into any trouble? Let us know in the comments, and we’ll try to help.
If everything went swimmingly, now is the time to learn all about caring for your new Japanese maple tree. Here are a few guides to set you on the right path:
MY, HOW TIMES have changed. That’s what I keep thinking, looking around my own garden in recent years. I’ve been struck by the same thought over and over as I read “The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year,” the latest book by Margaret Renkl (illustrated with gorgeous collages by her brother, Billy Renkl, like the one above), which takes us through a year in her garden 1,000 miles to the south of mine in Nashville.
The “what happens when” of nature is all shifting in the face of environmental change and how we each garden has shifted, too, for Margaret Renkl and for me, and maybe for you as well—toward more native plants and messier fall cleanup and other contributions we can make to our beloved birds and the rest of the natural world that’s increasingly under pressure.
Like many readers, I got to know Margaret Renkl in 2019 upon the publication of her much-praised book “Late Migrations.” Since 2017, she has been contributing a popular weekly “Opinion” column to “The New York Times” each Monday, which the newspaper describes as covering “flora, fauna, politics, and culture in the American South.”
join us for a nov. 7 webinar
MARGARET RENKL and I will be doing a webinar together about her new book and about our gardens on the evening of Nov. 7, 2023. Details on the event, in collaboration with Parnassus Books in Nashville, and how to get a ticket and order signed copies of her book, are at this link. A portion of the proceeds will go to support Homegrown National Park, the nonprofit effort founded by Doug Tallamy to promote habitat-style gardening emphasizing native plants.
Margaret Roach: Welcome back to the podcast, other Margaret, Southern Margaret. How are you?
Margaret Renkl: It’s amazing how often we’re confused for each other, and I’m not entirely sure why. Just the name Margaret, I guess, is such an old-timey name.
Margaret Roach: I know. Well, did you have a grandmother named Margaret? I did.
Margaret Renkl: I did have a grandmother. Did you?
Margaret Roach: Yes. I never knew her. She was deceased by the time I was born, but my father’s mother was Margaret. Yes.
Margaret Renkl: And that was the exact same situation in our family. My father’s mother died when he was only 24 years old, and he always knew if he had a daughter, he would want to name her Margaret.
Margaret Roach: Interesting. So the same thing. Okay. Great minds think alike, I guess [laughter]. And we have five letters in our last name that start with R, so there you go.
Margaret Renkl: We both write for “The New York Times” every week.
Margaret Roach: And there’s that. So we could just make a list. Oh my goodness. It’s good. It’s good. But I’m glad that the forces brought us together, because we have a lot of other things in common, too, like some of the plants in our gardens and our approach to the garden and our love of birds and so forth.
The last time you visited the program, it was in 2019. It was to talk about “Late Migrations.” And it’s like you haven’t stopped a minute since. More books and the weekly column and so forth. But with this new one, “The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year,” maybe explain the title. How did the crow get to be the bird in the title?
Margaret Renkl: I think that’s an interesting question, because there are actually more bluebirds and more goldfinches, I think, in the book than there are crows. But I was trying to think about… The longer I worked on this book, the more it became clear to me that what I was really writing about was kinship. I was writing about the ways in which we belong to one another not just in our families or in our communities or in our country, but also to the creatures who share our habitats.
And that, I think, is one of the problems with the planet, is that it’s so easy to lose that feeling of kinship with each other and also with our wild neighbors.
And crows are the bird, really the wild animal, most convenient to American readers, readers in English, the most like us. We don’t live in a habitat with other primates, but we do live… Almost all of us, it’s hard to imagine a place where a crow isn’t at home, hasn’t made itself at home.
Margaret Roach: They do [laughter].
Margaret Renkl: And the other thing, I mean they are just incredibly adaptable creatures and they are also really smart, incredibly smart, dumbfoundingly smart.
And in fact, their brain-to-body ratio, except for the great apes, is closer to ours than any other wild animal. And they solve problems as we solve problems. They quarrel as we quarrel. They stand up for one another. They hold grudges. They invent tools to do what they need them to do, and they play, even as adults. Most higher-order animals play as youngsters, but crows continue to play even into adulthood as we do. So I think of them as kind of our avian analog, I guess. And so in a book about kinship, they seemed to be the natural focus.
Margaret Roach: Yeah. They’re a favorite here, too. And I love their cousins, the ravens. I love the corvids in general. They’re just interesting birds.
So this backyard of yours—the subtitle is “A Backyard Year”—this backyard of yours, or maybe it’s a backyard and a front yard, I don’t know. How big is it? How long have you been there? Describe it.
Because you and I have spoken together about our “gardens” (I’m putting gardens in quote because they’re different). Just like any two people, they’re different. We take a different approach. So describe yours and, again, how long you’ve been there. [Below, a monarch on milkweed in the Renkl garden.]
Margaret Renkl: We’ve been in this house 28 years. The house is… It’s a small ranch house built in 1950. All the houses in this neighborhood were built on one of two floor plans. And they were starter homes for GI’s returning from World War II. And so the house is… Well, we’ve added onto it a little bit. We’ve added a bedroom and a family room, but it sits cattywampus on the lot.
So I’m using the term “backyard” really to mean the whole half-acre lot. When the house sits facing the corner, it’s not really clear what’s the front and what’s the back and what’s the side [laughter], and there’s not a lot of it. So half an acre, it must have seemed like a grand estate to these working-class people coming home from World War II and starting families. But it’s not, in terms of gardening, a very big space.
I have to say temperamentally, I’ve never been particularly interested in gardening. My mother was a passionate gardener, so was her mother, so was her grandmother. My brother kind of inherited that passion. For me, most of my childhood, the garden just represented labor, because I was pressed into service as a weeder or as a transplanter [laughter]. I had the stronger back.
But what I was interested in were the woodland flowers, the wildflowers in the fields and in the woods. And it took me a long time to bring those two forces in my life together—to realize that it was possible to garden not the way my mother did, but to bring those wildflowers from the fields and the creek sides. Not literally digging them up from public spaces, that’s illegal and I would never do that, but to cultivate that same kind of messy wildness with an aim toward beauty, of course—because it’s impossible not to be delighted by flowers of any kind—but really, as a way to feed my wild neighbors.
So I plant the flowers whose seeds feed the birds and the small mammals and whose flowers feed the insects.
Margaret Roach: You say in the book you describe it as a place that emphasizes drought tolerance, drought-tolerant plants, and that hardly a blade of grass remains. And so you’ve either done a lot of planting, or nature has planted itself. But does it look like other places on the… I don’t know whether to say block or not, but you said there’s similar houses nearby. If I walk down the street, does it look different from others?
Margaret Renkl: Completely different.
Margaret Roach: Uh-oh [laughter].
Margaret Renkl: But I should say of course, too, that this is happening all over Nashville. It’s happening in, I think, most growing cities, and it’s happened much more quickly since the pandemic. But most of those original houses are gone now. We still live in ours and there are maybe seven or eight others, but the rest of them have all been torn down and replaced with much larger houses. This is just a reality of real estate right now.
In mid-sized cities, great hedge funds and development companies have figured out which mid-sized cities are undervalued in their property, and they have been buying them up and developing them. And now that the pandemic has taught many people that they can work anywhere, if my neighbors aren’t native to the South, they come from all over to live in these houses from bigger cities where they could sell a smaller house and get a much larger one.
And what happens when a developer buys a piece of property and takes down the structure to put a different structure in its place… I should hasten to say that there’s nothing historic about this neighborhood. It did not need to be preserved. It’s just that the easiest thing to do as a builder is to scrape the lot, take the trees, take everything right down to the very lot line, put up a privacy fence, and then lay down sod all the way to the edge.
So when we first moved here and the original neighbors were still here, although they were getting much older, people did their own yard work. So the areas in the back would be kind of messy, and nobody used really any chemicals. It was just cut the grass and maybe trim the Euonymus[laughter]. But that was it. So now if you were to walk around my street, what you would see is a lot of turf grass, a lot of crape myrtles, and some boxwoods. And that’s pretty much it. [Below, a rabbit enjoying Margaret Renkl’s garden.]
Margaret Roach: Right, right. So every gardener I talked to in recent years in every area of the country is sort of in semi-shock as each year unfolds. You’ve been there a long time. I’ve been in my place a long time. And what we all say to one another is, “Yikes, it doesn’t feel like my place. It doesn’t feel the same. The seasons aren’t the same. The bloom times aren’t the same. The plants aren’t the same size.” You name it, right, the list of difference. It’s different.
Now, you’ve had a lot of heat this year. Is that what you’re… We’ve had not a lot of heat. We had a month of drought in May, and then we’ve had deluges since. Crazy amounts of rain. And so it’s been very odd and kind of swampy. You’ve been very hot. Have you this year? Has that been the difference this year or what’s been…
Margaret Renkl: I don’t even know that I would call it different anymore. It’s just become the new norm. We had a pretty temperate spring, but it has been, in spells, brutally hot. And right now, our temperatures are running 10… It was 92 degrees yesterday in Nashville. So the temperatures are running about 10 degrees higher than normal. We haven’t had a drop of rain in this yard in seven weeks. And you walk across the grass and little puffs of soil turned into dust-
Margaret Roach: Right, exactly.
Margaret Renkl: … bloom with every step. But the things that bloom in fall are still blooming. It’s funny to me. The goldenrod is having a great year, and so are the asters and so is the ironweed, so is the snakeroot. So the heat and the drought don’t seem to be bothering the wildflowers.
Margaret Roach: I think it was on your Instagram recently. You put a picture of goldenrod and you said, I think… Well, you posted the picture, and I think a commenter said something like, “Goldenrod throughout the land are thanking you for your service by publicizing them.” And you wrote back; you replied: “Just doing my tiny part for the goldenrod PR campaign.”
And I think that’s what you and I are doing with our choices of plants and our publicizing them, sharing them in various ways in our writing and our columns and in our social media and whatever, is a PR campaign, right, for this other type of gardening. So not the gardening of, like you said, your mother, your grandmother, your great-grandmother, or mine, which is more formal, more horticultural, more ornamental-focused.
Margaret Renkl: Sure.
Margaret Roach: And we’re instead trying to enliven, trying to increase the biodiversity, offer up goodies to our “wild neighbors,” as you call them, all the creatures. And you have a lot of creatures, not just the crows. You have a lot of creatures. You have… Is it a skink? Is that what the funny little guy is called?
Margaret Renkl: Yep.
Margaret Roach: Your friend the skink [below]. So I don’t have that here.
Margaret Renkl: Yeah, well, it’s a little lizard. We have two different kinds of skinks. Well, we really have three different kinds in this yard, but I can’t tell two of them apart. It requires a level of intimacy that the skink does not wish me to have.
Margaret Roach: I see.
Margaret Renkl: But we have five-lined skinks, we have blue-tail skinks, and we have broadhead skinks. And the broadhead skinks are the ones I see most commonly. They are arboreal lizards, and they are the largest lizard in the Southeast. And they can be very startling if you don’t know that you’re seeing them, because they move like a snake.
But they are wonderful companions. Before my father-in-law died two years ago, my husband built a little ramp to help him get his walker over the one step between the walkway and our front door. And he covered that little ramp with old roofing shingles, and the lizards love the roofing shingles because they absorb the heat.
Margaret Roach: Right.
Margaret Renkl: And so they come and they sit right outside my front door with their little legs and their little arms back behind them, just like a teenager on a pool float and take in the sun. And they know I’m there. They see me through the storm door. And they just look at me and I look at them, and I do feel this kind of friendship with them.
Margaret Roach: Yeah. I have a thing for frogs, so I get it. I totally get it. Yeah, yeah.
The book goes… There are 52 primary essays in it, and each one covers a year in… I mean, excuse me, a week in the year of your life and your yard and a range of feelings and emotions and so forth and goings-on and creatures. But I think it’s in a February essay in “The Comfort of Crows,” you described a flowerbed that, in your words, is “a jumble of dried stems and matted clumps, a collection of dead vegetation.” And of course, that’s what I see, too, as winter is receding and before spring is coming.
So that means that at this time of year, we’re both making some care decisions about what not to do, right? We’re leaving behind a lot of stuff. So can you describe what you’re doing as fall evolves, what kinds of things, and are they different from what you did 10 or 20 years ago as a homeowner there?
Margaret Renkl: Completely different. Really.
Margaret Roach: Yeah.
Margaret Renkl: The growing season here will last even after the first frost if it’s not a hard freeze. We don’t get those hard freezes anymore often until December, well into December. We used to get a hard freeze sometimes in early October. I remember bringing my porch plants in always by the end of September to be safe. But now, the weeds are going to keep growing in that flower bed even when the leaves cover them up.
So it’s important to stay on top of the creeping Charlie because it really wants to get all over the pollinator garden. I have several different kinds of pollinator gardens that I am keeping the weeds out, and that’s different from the parts of the yard that I’ve more or less let the wild ways take over. But I try to keep the creeping Charlie out of there, before the leaves fall, because otherwise, what I’m doing is letting the leaves fall onto the creeping Charlie and giving them a nice little layer of protection through whatever cold weather we might still get.
Keeping the weeds out is a little harder in the fall because I’m fighting the falling leaves from the trees. But I’m going to pull out the annuals after the first freeze, but I’m going to leave the perennial stems all through the winter. Some of those seedheads that I think are completely picked clean aren’t actually picked clean, and they’re going to drop seeds.
And they’re going to also… The goldfinches are going to come back and double-check and take everything that remains. And also, there are ground bees and other kinds of native bees that are going to use the hollow stems of perennials as a safe place to overwinter.
And there are some butterflies, like the black swallowtail butterfly, that will have a chrysalis late in the fall that can actually overwinter if I don’t tear down the flowers that the… the stems that the chrysalises are attached to. Those chrysalises are so well-disguised, I would not know that that’s what I was doing. So it’s safest to leave the hollow-stemmed perennials even after they’ve all bloomed out and died, until… Here, it would be probably late February most years before the plant start… after the bees have just started emerging again and before the plants have started putting on new growth from the bottom. And even then, I’m not going to cut them very far. I’m going to cut them to about 2 to 3 feet tall.
Margaret Roach: Mm-hmm. I love one essay late in the book. The fall is the last part of the book; the book, I guess, starts in winter. I love one essay that… It’s sort of an ode to the rake, the tool, this old-fashioned tool, the rake. You’re dissing leaf blowers and you say, “Leaf blowers are like giant whining insects that have moved into your skull” [laughter]. And you encourage us to resist them. They really are. It’s just that sound in our heads. Oh my goodness.
And you even talk about bringing a leaf inside, like not just finding room for the leaves as mulch and habitat for the winter, the “leave the leaves” campaign that we’ve all been hearing about, in your gardens. But you also talk about maybe bringing a leaf in almost like a… I don’t know. I don’t know what you’d call that, a talisman? I don’t know what you’d call it, but a memory, right? Bring a leaf in and having it maybe on your desk or something. Just tell us a little bit about leaves [laughter] because they’re pretty-
Margaret Renkl: Well, I think in that essay, I’m thinking about the way we leave the leaves in more and more and more places. At first, I was leaving them only in the flower beds, where they fell, and then raking up the others. But in recent years, we just leave them everywhere. And it’s true that they don’t all stay there. Sometimes, we’ll get a really high wind and off they go. But since I started leaving the leaves, I’ve started seeing even more lightning bugs. So there’s almost no lightning bugs anywhere in this neighborhood but in our yard.
And so bringing a leaf in, in the fall is, I guess, a way of reminding myself that it’s all connected. It all matters, even the smallest thing, and I’m not alone.
Margaret Roach: Yeah, yeah. I mean, there’s so much power in even a fallen, dead… A part that’s no longer serving its original purpose is still serving a purpose. Do you know what I mean? That infinite cycle of life, and it’s going to… I think of it as the fallen are going to feed the future generations. The fallen heroes kind of, you know. It’s like it’s this recycling and so forth, this eternal recycling.
Margaret Renkl: And that’s true for so much in the natural world. It’s not just leaves. It’s also-
Margaret Roach: Yes.
Margaret Renkl: Because you’ve written it yourself. A good brush pile is just a wonderful benefit to everybody. The wild creatures find shelter there on inclement days and they hide from predators there, and the wood begins to break down because of insect life. And then the insects feed the birds and the other creatures.
When you start paying attention, it’s a very reassuring cycle to observe. There is a comfort in crows. There’s… I’m sorry, it’s garbage day here. But-
Margaret Roach: Oh. Is there a noise? I don’t hear it. That’s O.K.
Margaret Renkl: Oh, you don’t hear it. Good.
Margaret Roach: Good. Yeah.
Margaret Renkl: So the idea that if we just pay attention, we can see those connections, the way these cycles overlap in the world and in our own lives. And I think there’s just something very comforting and reassuring about knowing that this is just how it works, and it’s nothing to fear.
Margaret Roach: I just wanted to shout out a couple of other “gardeners” who are gardening in your… who are planting, or farmers, maybe, who are planting in your yard, who I read about it, I think, on Instagram as well [laughter from Margaret Renkl]. The squirrels, you note…
See? She starts laughing before I even finish. You have a whole pumpkin patch happening because of the squirrels, right?
Margaret Renkl: Because of the squirrels. Not exclusively because of the squirrels, because there’s some nocturnal creatures out there doing some of this gardening, too, I think. But the squirrels have taken the seeds from my neighbor’s porch-scape pumpkins and buried them all over my yard.
And this year, some of them came up in a place where it was convenient to let them grow. We do have mowed parts of the yard because we mow the parts of the yard we actually use to get around the flower beds or so that delivery drivers can get to the front door. But the pumpkins that grew up in the wild part of the yard or that grew up in… There was this one flower bed right next to our little free library [above, the pumpkin-covered book kiosk at the edge of their yard], where the shrubs all died in a freeze last year, so there was room for the pumpkins. And now, the pumpkins are being eaten by the squirrels again [laughter], and the seed are being planted all around the yard again. So it’s-
Margaret Roach: It’ll perpetuate. It’ll perpetuate.
Margaret Renkl: It’s a squirrel perpetuating system. Yeah, I’m delighted by it.
Margaret Roach: Thanks for making time today, Margaret Renkl, to talk, and to talk about “The Comfort Of Crows.” And as I said, we’ll be doing a webinar together about the new book and about our gardens on the evening of Nov. 7.
Margaret Renkl: I’m looking forward to it. Thank you so much, Margaret.
(Photos from Margaret Renkl; used with permission.)
Is there a visitor to your garden, like Margaret Renkl’s crows and skinks or those pumpkin-planting squirrels, who particularly delighted you this year with their presence? Do tell.
No answer, or feeling shy? Just say something like “count me in” and I will, but a reply is even better. I’ll pick a random winner after entries close at midnight Tuesday, October 17, 2023. Good luck to all.
(Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)
prefer the podcast version of the show?
MY WEEKLY public-radio show, rated a “top-5 garden podcast” by “The Guardian” newspaper in the UK, began its 14th year in March 2023. It’s produced at Robin Hood Radio, the smallest NPR station in the nation. Listen locally in the Hudson Valley (NY)-Berkshires (MA)-Litchfield Hills (CT) Mondays at 8:30 AM Eastern, rerun at 8:30 Saturdays. Or play the Oct. 9, 2023 show using the player near the top of this transcript. You can subscribe to all future editions on iTunes/Apple Podcasts or Spotify or Stitcher (and browse my archive of podcasts here).
It may be fall, but Remodelista editors still have a toe dipped into the warm waters of summer—specifically, the Mediterranean. Plus: “A Hypnotic Optical Effect”: Two Spanish Architects Pattern a 1946 Fisherman’s House in Marine-Blue-and-White Checks Remodelista Reconnaissance: Textured Terracotta as Wall Covering DIY Macrame Curtain: Erica Tanov’s “Touch of Hippie” Solution for a Doorless […]
I don’t agree with gardeners who think fall and winter are the time to throw in the towel. Oncoming cooler weather tells me it’s time to find a warm place to bring in my most treasured tropicals and to get going on my next task: creating cool-weather combos.
If my hardier summer containers are kept watered and healthy, sometimes all I have to do to perk them up for the season is add an ornamental grass. Dwarf grasses are my favorites because I can tuck them in anywhere.
After sprucing up my older containers, I start observing maturing fruit and berries and watch for developing autumnal color so that I can pair them with flowers and foliage. Many of my end-of-the-year creations skip autumn altogether and go right for the deep, crisp colors of winter in the form of evergreens or fruiting shrubs. Nothing is more satisfying to me than looking out my window midwinter and still seeing living green things.
No matter where my imagination takes me, I always start fall and winter combos together with the arrival of the first cold spell. The earlier I create my cold-weather combos, the sooner I can sit back, enjoy their beauty, and wait for the first snowflakes to fall.
No one wants to see a lonely mum
Chrysanthemums need friends—those companion plants that meld a combo together. By adding a splash of lemongrass, you’ll spice up even the most mundane mum. Grasses of all sizes are a natural fit with mums, their fine foliage adding height to the mix. ‘Frosted Curls’ sedge and a few seasonal pumpkins complete this fall combo, making it a great look from any angle.
Lemongrass (Cymbopogon citratus, USDA Hardiness Zones 10–11)
‘Frosted Curls’ sedge (Carex ‘Frosted Curls’, Zones 7–9)
Greens look good and taste great
What better container ingredients are there than those you can both admire and eat? Many leafy greens and veggies have beautiful foliage color, last all summer, and pack a flavorful punch. I only use the safest potting mixes and fertilizers for these plants because I don’t want toxins showing up in my salad bowl.
You can soften the sharp, angular points of a patio or deck with a full, lush container. I also use pots to offset the often monotone brown of a full deck or the slate gray of a concrete patio. This lavender combo is twice as effective when set against a backdrop of orange fall leaves.
Creeping wire vine (Muehlenbeckia axillaris, Zones 8–10)
Yellow highlights make a big splash
Photo: courtesy of Rita Randolph
This small but well-rounded arrangement on my patio contains lush, persistent perennials and evergreen foliage. Dashes of yellow and gold weave the plants together into a colorful, textural tapestry. A mere 2 feet tall, this container is great next to a step or a back-door entry—or as a wonderful gift.
‘Raulston’s Gold’ wintercreeper (Euonymus fortunei* ‘Raulston’s Gold’, Zones 5–9)
‘Alabama Sunrise’ heucherella (× Heucherella ‘Alabama Sunrise’, Zones 4–9)
Panola™ primrose pansy (Viola × wittrockiana Panola™ Primrose, Zones 8–11)
‘Ogon’ Japanese sweet flag (Acorus gramineus ‘Ogon’, Zones 6–9)
Fall favorites create a seasonal sensation
Photo: courtesy of Rita Randolph
This container encompasses all that is autumn. The golden glow of grasses sets the backdrop for the fruiting firethorn. My favorite perennials add an extra splash of color along the container’s edge. This arrangement will grace my walkway all winter long, supplying a view for me and some fruit for the local birds.
‘Northwind’ switchgrass (Panicum virgatum ‘Northwind’, Zones 5–9)
‘Orange Glow’ firethorn (Pyracantha ‘Orange Glow’, Zones 6–9)
Orange hair sedge (Carex testacea, Zones 8–9)
‘Tapestry’ heucherella (× Heucherella ‘Tapestry’, Zones 4–9)
‘Southern Comfort’ heuchera (Heuchera ‘Southern Comfort’, Zones 4–9)
At the end of summer, I recommend making strict decisions about which plants to keep and which to compost. If there is a plant I can easily get again next year and it isn’t really suitable for growing indoors, I’ll let it go. I bring in anything that’s hard to find and small enough to handle, especially plants that are happy with the lower light levels. This bird’s nest fern (Asplenium nidus, Zone 11), rex begonia, and peacock spikemoss look so full that there’s no reason not to bring the combo indoors.
Houseplants make great combos too
Houseplants make great gifts and year-round centerpieces. I don’t usually plant them together but, rather, leave them in their growing container and simply arrange them in a larger decorative pot. I employ many of the design concepts that I use outdoors to create these indoor combos, like the “thriller, filler, spiller” concept. Often I simply eye everything to see what looks good together. I then cover the pots that have been dropped down into larger containers with decorative dried moss to keep the black plastic pots from showing.
Impromptu designs don’t have to end in disaster
An out-of-town trip led to this accidental arrangement—temporarily thrown together because I wasn’t sure where I was going to use my new and hard-to-find plants. The repeating shades of green and red foliage all go together, and the light green pot has an intricate maroon border that completes the look. For winter, I’ll cut most of the foliage off and bring the entire mix inside, keeping it relatively dry with just enough moisture to maintain the plants until the next growing season.
‘Siam Ruby’ banana (Musa acuminata ‘Siam Ruby’, Zones 9–11)
‘Panama Red’ hibiscus (Hibiscus acetosella ‘Panama Red’, Zones 10–11)
‘Red Hot Rio’ coleus (Solenstemon scutellarioides ‘Red Hot Rio’, Zone 11)
You can’t beat ornamental and edible
Ornamental edibles are favorite plants of mine because they are easy to design with. Plus, containers lift the veggies up to you, so you can get your garden fix without having to bend over all the time. Many vegetables, such as peppers, can grow happily in containers all season long. With the right fertilizer—preferably organic and made for this purpose—they won’t mind being in a pot. They may actually prefer it.
‘Mandarin’ bell pepper (Capsicum annuum ‘Mandarin’, annual)
Mexican feather grass (Stipa tenuissima, Zones 7–11)
Some kitchen herbs can bear the cold
Photo: courtesy of Rita Randolph
In a season where so much foliage is deciduous, I find it refreshing to know that I can grow evergreen rosemary and parsley. These are two of the most essential herbs in my recipes, and with just a little protection from the elements, they will grow wonderfully through the winter. They both thrive in a relatively small pot that I only pull indoors during the worst weather—which gives me the incentive to pick up what I need to make potato soup and rosemary bread.
This combo boasts deep greens separated by lighter greens, and—though not obvious at first—the three-tiered spiral of this red cedar is complemented by a reverse spin of underplanted perennials and false holly. This turn gives the arrangement balance and interest, even after flowers fade or die.
‘Goshiki’ variegated false holly (Osmanthus heterophyllus ‘Goshiki’, Zones 7–9)
Artistically placed stones create a miniature forest in a pot
A collection of some of my smallest treasures, which fit neatly into an alpine trough, forms a miniature landscape. Arranged like a small garden, with rocks and smooth stones to symbolize a creek, the plants in this concrete trough will grow nicely for at least a year or two. It always entices visitors to investigate, sometimes leading them to give it a pat or two.
‘Butterscotch’ euonymus (Euonymus japonicus ‘Butterscotch’, Zones 6–9)
‘Nanus’ dwarf mondo grass (Ophiopogon japonicus ‘Nanus’, Zones 7–10)
‘Baggesen’s Gold’ boxleaf honeysuckle (Lonicera nitida ‘Baggesen’s Gold’, Zones 6–9)
‘Fernspray’ hinoki cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa ‘Fernspray’, Zones 4–8)
A mini pine has the look of an extralarge bonsai
A mugo pine can transform into an Asian bonsai with no trimming or training. Its natural, stunted growth and good looks are enough to draw attention. It’s paired with a creeping wire vine that will persist until next spring, even if it freezes back to the soil. Top-dressing the pot with gravel will keep it looking nice when the perennials go dormant.
Creeping wire vine (Muehlenbeckia axillaris, Zones 8–10)
Twiggy spikemoss (Selaginella sanguinolenta var. compressa, Zones 6–8)
Extend container life with cool-weather techniques
When the temperature has cooled off, I spend some extra time with my containers to clean house. Some of my combinations don’t need a lot of help, but others are ready for the compost heap. I cut a lot of my leggy blooming plants one more time and bring the cut flowers inside as centerpieces. I replace the plants and combos that won’t make it through to the next season with evergreens, grasses, and other hardy perennials. If I end up with empty containers, I apply a few cool-weather techniques before I plant them up with fall and winter combos.
Freshen up pots by separating the good plants from the ugly
Photo: Brandi Spade
If an arrangement looks a little ragged, I’ll separate all the components to decide which ones look healthy enough to use in new combinations. The specimens I reuse have had an entire season to grow, which ensures that my new creations will look full right from the start. With spent annuals removed and the soil freshened up, I’m ready to transform both old and new plants into stunning fall and winter arrangements. I’ll sometimes simply pot up a single large specimen that I’ve pulled from an old container, like this now fully grown orange hair sedge.
Photo: Jennifer Benner
Pot feet protect your containers from freezing
Freezing temperatures make it absolutely necessary to lift containers off the ground to keep the base from freezing and breaking. Pot feet do the lifting and ensure that potentially freezing water will drain off quickly and not collect in or under the container.
Add gravel to soil mixes for excellent winter drainage
Photo: Brandi Spade
Add a little gravel to the potting media when planting conifers. They appreciate rich soil and regular watering but require excellent drainage. Choose an inert gravel of a color that complements your container and plant choices. A large stone is a nice architectural touch. Top-dressing with stones and gravel or a piece of driftwood also helps retain your potting soil during winter weather.
Protect winter containers by leaving room for soil expansion
Photo: Brandi SpadePhoto: Brandi Spade
When using high-fired stoneware that will remain outdoors in winter, consider using one such pot with a vase-shaped sidewall so that moist, freezing soil will have room to expand, both upward and outward. Lining the sides of your container with bubble wrap provides extra room for expansion and helps hold in moisture (above).
If your container is urn shaped and tapers in at the top, however, it will not be able to handle any expansion from freezing. You’ll need to find a properly fitted liner, such as a nursery bucket or other plastic pot, to drop into it (right). I pick a liner that leaves about an inch or two of space between itself and the pot walls. The liner also allows you to easily remove the entire plant combo when necessary.
*These plants are considered invasive in some areas. Please check invasiveplantatlas.org or your state’s list of invasive plants for more information.
Upright junipers make a bold statement in the garden. Whether you have a stately ‘Spartan’ or a row of ‘Skyrocket’ shrubs, there’s nothing else like them.
Most upright junipers maintain their shape without any pruning or extra work on your part.
But prolonged heavy snow can bend branches, consistent wind from the same direction can cause uneven growth, and disease can damage sections of your tree.
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To make your plant look better, it will need some pruning. The point of pruning is to maintain the plant’s existing shape or to tidy it up, not to change its shape.
So before we get started, here’s the bottom line: It’s going to be extremely difficult to prune a juniper with a naturally sprawling or round shape into an upright shape. You’ll need to buy an upright cultivar in the first place – it’s a good thing there are so many fantastic options available!
In this guide, we’ll cover how to trim your upright juniper, not to change the shape of an existing shrub.
Now that we’re all on the same page, here’s what we’ll discuss in this guide:
As I mentioned, there are lots of gorgeous upright junipers available. If you’re looking for some excellent options, here are just a few that I’m particularly fond of:
‘Witchita Blue’ is a big shrub, growing about 25 feet tall and up to eight feet wide.
While the steel blue foliage stands out, what’s particularly nice about this Rocky Mountain juniper (J. scopulorum) is that it’s quite bushy, with lots of soft growth. That means it can handle heavy pruning before you reach the woody stems.
This is one of those shrubs that you can actually prune pretty dramatically.
If you want an adaptable shrub, grab one in a two- to three-, three- to four-, or four- to five-foot height at Fast Growing Trees.
Or nab yourself one of the narrowest juniper cultivars out there. ‘Skyrocket’ is another Rocky Mountain cultivar, this one grows about 15 feet wide and an astonishing three feet wide.
Grab one of these Rocky Mountain cultivars at Fast Growing Trees in one- to two-, two- to three-, or three- to four-foot heights in a single or six-pack.
Once mature, they will reach 15 feet tall and about six feet wide.
If you already have an upright juniper and you’re looking for some trimming information, let’s get started with the tools you’ll need.
You can get away with a sharp, clean pair of bypass pruners, but I also like to have a pair of anvil and ratchet pruners on hand, depending on the tree or shrub I’m working with.
If you don’t want or need a bunch of different pruners, just stick to theold classic Felco F-2. They’ll get the job done just fine.
If your plant has some larger branches you need to tackle, you’ll also want a saw or loppers. A tree saw can help you reach high branches, especially if you find one with a built-in lopper.
Something like the Milliard extendable pole saw/pruner available at Amazon is ideal for those taller junipers.
You should also wear gloves, since many junipers have sharp leaves. You might also consider donning a thick, long-sleeved shirt or some protective gardening sleeves.
You only have to get all scratched up by your juniper once before you avoid making that mistake a second time.
Timing
Pruning can be done anytime you want unless the air temperatures are below freezing. When the wood of a juniper freezes, the plant can be damaged or even killed by pruning.
To be extra safe, you should avoid pruning in the late fall, too. When you make cuts in late fall, it exposes the plant to winter damage.
On the other hand, pruning during a heat wave when the plant is already struggling to conserve water isn’t advisable unless it is absolutely necessary.
If you can wait, the best time to prune is in late winter or early spring. Early fall is slightly less ideal, but it’s still fine.
If you need to do a lot of pruning, spread it out over several weeks or even months, if possible. However, if your plant has a significant amount of damage or diseased limbs, it’s best to get it all done at once.
Pruning Technique
The tool and strategy you’re going to use to prune your upright juniper depends on the size of the branch or stem you’re cutting.
If you’re working with a piece of wood smaller than your pinky, just use those pruners. Anything bigger calls for a saw or loppers.
You can prune green growth to encourage bushiness and shape the plant. Only areas with green, soft wood will branch and develop new growth because new foliage emerges from the branch tips.
If you prune an older, woody branch back to where there aren’t any leaves, it won’t develop any new growth and you’ll be left with a bare stump.
As a rule of thumb, you should remove any branches or stems that don’t have needles. They won’t generate new growth. If you need to prune a branch back into the woody area that is devoid of needles, just take the whole thing off.
Small stems can be cut back to the main branch. Make a flush cut so there isn’t a stump left behind.
For larger branches, you want to make your cut so that the branch collar remains intact. The branch collar is a raised spot where the trunk transitions into the branch. When you’re done cutting, that little bump will remain.
To do this, take your saw or loppers and cut the branch a few inches out from the trunk. If you’re using a saw, it’s best to make the cut from below rather than above. Saw about halfway through and then start sawing from the top to meet the cut that you made from below.
Now that you’ve removed the weight you can make a precise cut. Use the saw or loppers to remove the rest of the branch at a slight angle so that the branch collar remains intact.
Remove any lopsided, ugly, or unusual growth. Anything diseased or discolored gets the chop.
If you want to encourage bushier growth in an area that is a little sparse, cut the green ends to promote branching.
Remember, you don’t need to create upright growth, you’re aiming to support the natural shape of the tree.
If you want to flatten the top of the shrub, feel free, but make sure that you are only cutting into green growth. If as you flatten the top you cut into old wood, you’re going to have a little baldy on your hands.
What to Avoid
There are a few things to avoid when pruning upright junipers. First, don’t ever cut the main central trunk.
This is known as the leader and if you were to lop it off in the hopes of making your shrub bushier or to limit its height, you’ll only weaken the plant and leave it more susceptible to damage.
We’ve already mentioned it, but it’s worth repeating: don’t prune back into old wood and expect new growth.
You also shouldn’t seal any of the cuts that you make. I know it used to be common thought that you could protect the plant by sealing up any cuts, but most conifers do a fantastic job of protecting themselves.
That’s what the sticky resin that oozes out of these plants is for – it’s the plant’s natural defense.
Try not to prune more than a quarter to a third of the plant at one time. The exception to this is if your plant is badly damaged by disease, pests, or something environmental like wind or snow. In that case, it’s best to remove the problem wood to support the shrub.
Finally, please, please don’t shear your plants! It hurts my heart every time I see someone taking one of those electric trimmers to create a smooth line. That works great on some species, like boxwoods, but it’s not the right method for junipers.
Shearing not only runs the risk of creating an ugly bald spot, since you can’t be as accurate with your cuts, but it also creates a dense umbrella of growth on the outside of the shrub that shades the interior of the plant.
This causes needle drop and a thin shell of growth that isn’t supported by healthy interior growth.
If you want to shear just a small area here and there with some precision, go ahead, but don’t do it on the entire plant.
Just a Little Off the Top
When you’re pruning an upright juniper, you aren’t trying to create a topiary or change its natural shape.
The goal is to provide some support for the natural shape of the plant. I mean, look at these plants! They’re already stunning all on their own. All they need is a little assistance.
What kind of upright juniper are you pruning? Are you dealing with a disease or just providing a little shape? Share with us in the comments section below.
Hopefully you feel ready to head out there with your pruners and gloves and finish the job.
October is a true transitional time for landscapes here in New Jersey. Days grow shorter, but temps can bounce back and forth from mild to chilly. Deciduous trees display their finest colors, heat loving plants start to wane, while others bloom with color. Here’s what to expect (and do!) in your landscape in October:
You’ll still need to keep on top of weeding (avoid having them seed as much as you can) and watering if there’s a dry spell.
Avoid pruning shrubs, especially spring flowering varieties so you don’t lose spring blooms. But you can, and should, prune dead and diseased branches from trees and shrubs any time you see them.
Now’s the perfect time to plant many types of perennials and woody shrubs in your landscape. The soil is still warm enough for healthy root growth to establish before the ground is frozen hard.
It’s OK to plant evergreens until about mid-October. After that, wait until spring. This is because evergreens still transpire water through their foliage and without adequate root development, can scorch during the winter.
Turf growth will start to slow but resist the urge to cut your lawn “extra short” to avoid an additional mowing or two for the season. Keep grass to a healthy height (around 3”) to avoid root damage.
October is also a good time to apply fertilizer to your perennials, trees, shrubs and turf. Roots will take the nutrients from the soil and apply them to important health-promoting functions, such as disease resistance and root development. Excess nutrients are stored in the roots and become immediately available when needed for new growth in the spring.
Mulch plants to help keep them protected from frost, retain moisture and inhibit weed growth come spring. Larger bare areas (such as a vegetable garden that will be overwintering) can be mulched with compost, manure, or seeded with a green cover crop such as winter rye, which is an excellent source of organic matter that can be turned into the soil after winter.
Wait until spring to cut back seed-producing plants such as Rudbeckia (Black-Eyed Susan) and Echinacea (Purple Cone Flower) since the seeds are a source of food for birds like goldfinches. Butterflies also seek shelter beneath the flower heads.
Leave ornamental grasses untrimmed until spring as well. They’re a lovely element to the winter garden and provide shelter for cavity nesting native bees.
It is such a gardening triumph to put together a few plants that play nicely together and create a memorable vignette to mark the season. In this episode, Danielle, Carol, and guest Susan Morrison will talk about some plant combinations that look great as the season winds down. Listen in and get inspired to add more winning teams to your late season lineup next year.
Expert guest: Susan Morrison is a landscape designer and writer in Concord, California.
Danielle combo #1
Danielle combo 1: ‘Limelight’ panicle hydrangea with ‘Sun King’ aralia
‘Limelight’ panicle hydrangea (Hydrangea paniculata ‘Limelight’, Zones 3-9)
‘Sun King’ aralia (Aralia cordata ‘Sun King’, Zones 3-9)
Danielle combo 2: ‘Worcester Gold’ blue mist shrub with ‘Goldsturm’ black-eyed Susan
Danielle combo #2
‘Worcester Gold’ blue mist shrub (Caryopteris × clandonensis ‘Worcester Gold’, Zones 5-9)
‘Goldsturm’ black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia fulgida var. sullivantii ‘Goldsturm’, Zones 3-9)
My friend Rick shares his story of accidental backyard biochar success:
Back in 2008, the year I first moved to the country, I was doing some bonfires on adjoining extended family land because there was just too much dead wood all over the place. I took the tractor with the front-end loader over there and pushed it all together into a pile, then I pushed tons of oak leaves around the edges of the pile. My intended strategy had been to start the fire, let it burn down to some semblance of completion while soaking all the leaves with the hose, and then I would push the leaves onto the fire to smother it, and create some charcoal in the process.
I figured the fire would be out in a few hours. I had even filled up 10 5-gal buckets in a circle around it to help put it out. So once I had major burndown, where the 8-ft pile was only a couple feet off the ground, I wet everything thoroughly, and then piled the wet leaves all over it, and I spent another hour wetting it down. By then it was getting dark so I just made sure the ground was wet all around, and I drove the tractor back home.
Next morning I went over to see, and there were still tons of small plumes of smoke coming up through the leaves, and what had been a 2-ft pile was now a 1-ft pile. I wet everything thoroughly for another couple hours and figured I would scoop up all the ashes the next day.
It took 3 days for everything to finally cool down! And by then the leaves had mostly disintegrated into this black mass mixed with the charcoal and ashes. And it looked… like really good soil. I honestly had no idea, but I had heard about old-time farmers mixing ashes in soil so I figured I would give it a try. I loaded up the trailer with what must have been at least a ton of wet charcoal and leaves, and carted it all back to my place and made 4 long garden beds with it. And the stuff that grew in there was just amazing. Then my neighbor gave me a magazine article about “biochar” and the ancient Amazonians and said “see Rick, this is what you were doing.”
Poor sand and clay seem to really benefit from biochar. Rick was the one who originally introduced me to the idea of terra preta, which has now bloomed into an obsession.
And 06a09 comments on our recent video:
I’ve wondered if this type of soil was created as a result of the accumulation of slash and burn cycles. There is a short documentary on YouTube by the channel ‘odyssey earth’ about the Maya.It explains that people would slash and burn areas of forest on 3 year cycles. Year 1 they would slash burn and plant annuals (corn beans squash etc). They would then allow saplings to regrow naturally in the area they had cut, selecting for useful trees/shrubs, and culling undesirable ones.They would let it regrow until the area was too shady and then move onto the next patch of ground.Over thousands of years is it not possible that this could slowly accumulate a charcoal/carbon layer after returning to the same area again and again? (Rather than digging a hole and doing it all at once).They could have burned the area and then threw their waste onto it too. That would explain the pottery etc. It also explains the whole “the Amazon is man made” thing.
This is almost certainly part of it. There is a place for “slash and burn.”
And carrotspaghetti236 comments on the same video:
Okay, if you are faint hearted skip my contribution. I butcher at least 6 roosters yearly, catching blood in a bucket, keeping said bucket as a fetid fertilizer solution; in the winter, being in zone 5, I use a woodstove and take a little wood out before its fully burned, and crumble the charred wood into the blood bucket and let it fester all winter in the mud room where it won’t freeze and break the bucket. My sandy soil has been pitiful, but where I amended the garden bed this spring with my fetid bloody char solution, I have had tremendously increased production.
Gross, but effective!
When we slaughter pigs this fall I’ll have to remember that.
Far-flung fashion shows have become a notorious target for environmentalists, as they suck up almost incalculable resources for an eight-minute extravaganza of clothes and bags. But lately, houses have taken a more sustainable approach, opting for soothing and uplifting landscapes as backdrops that can have a second life post-show. Last year, British planting supremo Nigel Dunnett along with Alexandra Noble created an epic jungle for Zimmerman’s show at the Petit Palais in Paris, with many of the plants later relocated to the public gardens.
And earlier this week Hermès followed suit with an extraordinary meadow for, as the luxury brand called it, “an impromptu picnic, unhurried chatter, birdsong,” at the spectacular Garde Republicaine in Paris. Masterminded by landscape designer Luciano Giubbilei and planted over three days by Jonny Bruce and a team of gardeners, the billowing grasses created a pastoral runway and provided yet more evidence—if any were needed—of the beguiling, textural beauty of grasses.
Above: Eleven thousand plants were gathered by Hortus Loci (the Hampshire-based wholesale nursery that also coordinates and grows many plants for the RHS Chelsea Flower Show) from a handful of European growers and nurseries, including Valfredda, Jan Spruyt, Arno Rijnbeek and Kris Stevens.
Above: The dominant plant here is Deschampsia cespitosa, which flowers in midsummer and by this time of the year has sun-bleached stems and inflorescences. Planted en masse, it creates a golden haze. Dotted through were occasional clumps of Pennisetum and Miscanthus. Perennials including Gaura lindheimeri, Sanguisorba, Cosmos atrosanguineus (chocolate cosmos) added the lightest contrasts and mingled with the dark brown dots of seedheads or spires of Atriplex hortensis. The only green peppered through the space came from the stems of miscanthus or gaura.
Since the beginning of the year, we have harvested 1816lbs of food.
We also gathered 2,125 eggs and butchered 5 roosters.
Yesterday I harvested 60lbs of potatoes during a livestream, which brought our complete sweet potato harvest thus far up to 155lbs.
They grew quite well in the Grocery Row Garden, despite an exceptionally dry summer.
Our biggest yield this year has been watermelons – and they also grew all through the GRG. If it hadn’t been for the melon vines, we would have planted a lot more sweet potatoes.
The strange “accidental” harvest that kicked our numbers up was the yield of the pumpkin vines that grew out of our compost pile.
They have yielded 281lbs of fruit so far and there are easily another 20 pumpkins out there which are still green. As the weather has cooled, the plants have decided to make many more. We’ve never seen pumpkins this vigorous before.
The 107lbs of pumpkins on the list are from the pumpkins we deliberately planted out in the food forest. They had nice mounds with compost in them, and did rather poorly in the heat and drought, getting totally blown away by the pumpkins we allowed to grow from the compost pile.
This will impact how we grow pumpkins next year.
Can you imagine if we just made 5 compost piles and threw pumpkins on them to rot? We could easily pass 1,000lbs of pumpkins in 2024. I say this year’s pumpkins were “accidental,” but that only applies to their germination. After they sprouted, we just left them alone to run, so we did allow them to take over the space they ran through.
Our potato yields were not great this year, though we were glad to have them in the spring. I believe we need more organic matter in the garden to make them happy. We hit 232lbs total, and the productivity of the Adirondack Blues was a nice surprise.
We don’t know how our yams or cassava will do after the severe lack of water, but I do think we’re likely to surpass 2,000lbs in yields by the end of the year.
Deo gratias!
We haven’t bothered weighing the greens we harvest here and there, or the herbs, as the weights are small and hard to figure out; yet I’m sure there’s a few more pounds there.
Also, the daikons in spring were wonderful, giving us a good yield which we then ate fresh, sautéed, and fermented. Another round is growing right now.
I love growing the cool-season crops after the heat of summer. It would be good if we got a mild fall without frost, as that would give these a running start. It will also give our remaining tropical root crops more time to grow.
Also, I haven’t even weighed these yet:
That’s probably another 50lbs! These white sweet potatoes are monsters.
A few weeks ago, frequent GPOD contributor Cherry Ong took us along on her visit to Bellevue Botanical Garden in Bellevue, Washington (GPOD on the Road: Bellevue Botanical Garden) but she sent too many photos to share that day, so we’re going back today to see some more of the beautiful images of this inspiring public garden.
This is a really beautiful Rudbeckiahirta (Zones 3–8). Sometimes these forms with a green central disk are called “green-eyed Susans.”
What interesting and unusual flowers! I think this might be a form of phlomis, possibly Phlomissamia (Zones 7–10). The color is so lovely; it would be beautiful in a flower arrangement.
Fading coneflowers (Echinacea hybrids, Zones 4–8) are backed up by the grasslike foliage and beautiful yellow flowers of a Crocosmia (Zones 7–10).
A hydrangea (Hydrangeapaniculata, Zones 3–8) in peak bloom is surrounded by daylilies (Hemerocallis hybrids, Zones 3–9), Crocosmia, and Agapanthus (Zones 8–10), all of which have beautiful grasslike foliage as well as their showy flowers.
Except for the hydrangea in the background and the splash of blue from the willow gentiana (Gentianaasclepiadea, Zones 3–8), this display is all about foliage, combining different textures, sizes, colors, and variegation to make a beautiful picture.
Sometimes no flowers are needed at all to make something perfect, as demonstrated by this gorgeous little container for shade. This planter contains perennials, shrubs, and annuals to create a combination of long-lasting color as well as provide a bright splash for the summer.
I love a perfect spot to sit and enjoy the garden.
This modern meadow planting combines grasses and other perennials to create an airy, informal display.
Beautiful, broad stone steps are softened by the big mass of Japanese forest grass (Hakonechloamacra, Zones 5–9) at the top.
Have a garden you’d like to share?
Have photos to share? We’d love to see your garden, a particular collection of plants you love, or a wonderful garden you had the chance to visit!
To submit, send 5-10 photos to [email protected] along with some information about the plants in the pictures and where you took the photos. We’d love to hear where you are located, how long you’ve been gardening, successes you are proud of, failures you learned from, hopes for the future, favorite plants, or funny stories from your garden.
Storing amaryllis bulbs for the winter is simple, and saving them means you can enjoy them again year after year.
Many people don’t realize that they can easily store their holiday amaryllis through the winter, and regrow them again next season.
In this post, I’m going to show you three methods for overwintering amaryllis plants.
Plus I’ll tell you exactly when to bring them inside, and share my step-by-step instructions and tips for digging them up and safely packing them for storage.
Can Amaryllis Stay Outside In Winter?
Though amaryllis (Hippeastrum) plants are technically perennials, most varieties can only survive outside during winter in zones 10 and above.
If you live in a colder climate, you will have to dig up the bulbs and move them indoors for storage, as they will probably will not survive the winter outdoors.
Can I Save My Amaryllis Bulb For Next Year?
Yes, you can easily save your amaryllis bulbs for next year, and many years after that, and it’s very easy to do.
Not only will they continue to bloom annually, but you’ll find that the flowers become even larger and more stunning with age.
Unless you live in a warm climate, you should dig up your amaryllis bulbs in the fall, then cure (dry) and pack them for winter storage.
If your amaryllis is potted, you can simply move it indoors and leave it in its container, rather than digging it up and packing it.
Getting ready to dig up my amaryllis bulbs
Methods Of Overwintering Amaryllis Bulbs
There are three methods you can use to overwinter your amaryllis bulbs. The best one depends on your climate and where you planted them.
Leave them in the ground
Overwinter them in pots
Pack the bulbs and store them for the winter
1. Leaving Amaryllis In The Ground
If you live in zone 10 or higher, you can safely leave your amaryllis in the ground through the winter.
Some varieties, however, are hardy down to zones 6-7, so it’s important to know the type you have when considering your options.
If yours is a hardy type, you can give the bulbs an extra layer of protection by covering them with mulch to keep them warm over winter.
I recommend doing this if you live on the cooler side of the hardiness zone for your variety, or if there’s a risk that the ground could freeze.
2. Overwintering A Potted Amaryllis
If your Hippeastrums are in containers, you can overwinter them right in their pots.
As it gets cooler in the fall, they will begin to go dormant and the foliage will naturally die back.
At this point, cut off all the leaves to soil level and move the pots indoors before the temperature drops below 55°F (12-13°C).
Keep your potted amaryllis in a dark and dry area of your home over winter, somewhere with a consistent temperature of around 60°F (15-16°C) is perfect.
3. Storing Amaryllis Bulbs For Winter
Digging up and storing the bulbs is the most popular method of overwintering amaryllis, and is essential if they are planted in the garden. But the good news is that it’s very easy to do.
The most important thing is to make sure you lift them before the temperature gets below 55°F (12-13°C).
Amaryllis are sensitive to the cold, and frost or freezing temperatures could damage the bulbs, meaning they would be unlikely to survive the winter in storage.
Winterizing potted amaryllis to save for next year
Preparing Amaryllis Bulbs For Winter Storage
No matter how you plan to overwinter your amaryllis bulbs, it’s important to bring them indoors at the right time. Follow these tips, and they will have no problem surviving.
When To Bring In Your Amaryllis Bulbs
Hippeastrums are very vulnerable to frost, so you’ll need to bring them indoors before it gets too cold outside. But exposing them to the cooler fall weather will help trigger dormancy.
I recommend moving them inside once it’s consistently around 60°F (15-16°C), but definitely before it gets as low as 50°F (10°C). Which is typically about 4-6 weeks before your first fall frost date.
How To Bring In Hippeastrum In For Winter
If your amaryllis bulbs are in the ground, use a garden fork or spade shovel to gently lift them, taking care not to damage any.
Using your hands, shake or brush off the loose dirt. Check for damage and discard any bulbs that are rotting.
If yours are in pots, then you can simply move the container to a cool, dark location indoors. No need to remove them from their pot.
How To Cure/Dry Amaryllis Bulbs Before Storing
Once you’ve brought your amaryllis bulbs indoors, you’ll need to remove the foliage before storing them.
You can either allow the leaves to die back naturally, or cut them down to the top of the bulb. There’s no need to remove the roots.
Finally, allow the bulbs to cure (or dry) for 1-2 weeks. This will remove excess moisture and prevent problems like mold and rot while they’re in storage.
There’s no need to worry about curing your potted amaryllis bulbs, just stop watering them.
In this section, I’m going to explain how to properly pack and store amaryllis bulbs for the winter.
If yours are in a pot, you can skip these packing instructions and overwinter them right in their containers.
Packing Amaryllis Bulbs For Winter Storage
If you only need to store your bulbs for a period of up to 6 weeks, you can simply use storage bags or wrap them in newsprint paper.
For longer-term storage, however, place them into a cardboard box filled with peat moss or coco coir, either of which will help prevent them from drying out too much.
Alternatively, you could use a packing material such as pet bedding, sawdust, or a 50/50 mix of perlite and vermiculite.
Where To Store Amaryllis Bulbs Over Winter
The best place to store your amaryllis bulbs over winter is in a cool, dry area of your home, like a closet, unfinished basement, or heated garage.
Ideally a steady temperature of around 60°F (15-16°C) is the best, but it could vary by a few degrees.
If they get too warm or too cold, there is a higher risk that they could rot.
Wrapping amaryllis bulbs for storage
Amaryllis Winter Care Tips
Check your Hippeastrum bulbs once a month throughout the winter to make sure they don’t dry out too much or stay too wet.
Discard any that are showing signs of mold or rot, as this can spread quickly to other bulbs.
If they are becoming too dry, on the other hand, spritz them lightly to rehydrate them, but be sure not to get them too wet.
Exactly when to replant your amaryllis bulbs after overwintering them depends on when you want them to bloom. Follow my tips below for the best results.
When To Bring Amaryllis Bulbs Out Of Storage
If you want them to flower in time for Christmas, then bring your amaryllis bulbs out of storage 6-8 weeks before that date, and pot them up if they’re bare-root.
Wait until spring to move them back outside. It’s safe once nighttime temps are 60°F (15°C) or above.
If you want to plant them into your garden, make sure that the ground is dry and has warmed up to around 60-65°F (15-18°C). You can use a soil thermometer to check it.
How To Prepare Amaryllis Bulbs For Planting
There’s nothing special you need to do to prepare your overwintered amaryllis bulbs for planting. You can simply pot them up or plant them directly into the ground.
But I like to put mine in warm water with some liquid compost tea mixed in, and then I soak them for several hours to give them a boost.
This step is entirely optional but it helps break their dormancy and wake them up faster.
Below you’ll find my answers to the most frequently asked questions about storing amaryllis bulbs over winter. If you don’t see yours listed, please ask in the comments.
How long can you store amaryllis bulbs?
You can safely store amaryllis bulbs through the winter. During this time they will become dormant and require very little care. But I recommend planting them every year because they will dry out and eventually die if stored for too long.
Can you store amaryllis bulbs in the refrigerator?
No, you shouldn’t store Hippeastrum bulbs in the refrigerator. This is because refrigeration temperatures are far too low, and the cold is likely to kill them.
Can I store amaryllis bulbs in a paper bag?
You can store amaryllis bulbs in a paper bag, but for no more than 6 weeks. For longer-term storage, I recommend using peat moss or coco coir, as these mediums will help prevent them from drying out too much.
Should I cut the roots off my amaryllis before storing?
You could cut the roots off your amaryllis bulbs before storing them, but it’s not necessary. You can wait to cut off the dried up old roots before replanting them, as new ones will develop pretty quickly.
Can you leave amaryllis in pots over winter?
Yes, you can leave your amaryllis in their pots over winter. But you will need to cut the foliage back to the top of the bulb, then bring them indoors to protect them from freezing. Stop watering and store them in a cool, dry, and dark spot in your home.
How often do you water an amaryllis in the winter?
You don’t need to water amaryllis very often in the winter, especially if you store the bulbs. Only keep them moist enough so they don’t start to shrivel or wither, as too much moisture will cause them to rot.
Can I keep my amaryllis alive during the winter?
You could keep your amaryllis alive during the winter, they make lovely green houseplants. However, without a cool winter rest period, they most likely will not flower next year.
If you want to learn all there is to know about maintaining healthy indoor plants, then you need my Houseplant Care eBook. It will show you everything you need to know about how to keep every plant in your home thriving. Download your copy now!
More About Overwintering Plants
Share your tips for how to store amaryllis bulbs in the comments section below.
Step By Step Instructions
How To Store Amaryllis Bulbs For Winter
Discover how to store amaryllis bulbs for winter with my step-by-step instructions. You’ll learn the most popular method to use, how to prepare your bulbs for storage, and how to care for them until it’s time to replant them.
Prep Time 10 minutes
Active Time 30 minutes
Additional Time 14 days
Total Time 14 days
Difficulty Easy
Instructions
Dig them up – Use a garden fork or spade shovel to gently lift your bulbs from the ground, or remove them from their container if you’d like. Dig at least a foot away from the center stem to avoid damaging the bulbs. Shake or brush off any loose dirt.
Check for damage – Inspect the bulbs carefully and discard any that are damaged or showing signs of rot.
Cure the bulbs – Lay the bulbs out on a tray or newspaper and let them dry for 1-2 weeks. This will help prevent issues like mold and rot. You’ll know they’re ready once the papery outside layers are dry and brittle.
Pack the bulbs –To store the bulbs for up to 6 weeks, wrap them in newsprint paper or use storage bags. For long-term storage, place them in a cardboard box filled with peat moss or coco coir, ensuring they are not touching one another. Other suitable packing materials include pet bedding, sawdust, or a 50/50 mix of perlite and vermiculite.
Label the box or pot – Use a permanent marker to label the box, or use a plant tag if the bulb is in a container.
Store them – Place the box or pots containing bulbs in a cool, dry part of your home with a consistent temperature of around 60°F (15-16°C). A shed, heated garage, or cellar would be ideal.
Notes
If you live in a cold climate, you will need to move your amaryllis bulbs inside for winter storage before it gets too cold. When it’s consistently around 60°F (15-16°C) outside is a good time.
You can store potted Hippeastrum bulbs right in their containers, and skip the packing instructions in the guidelines above.
Monitor your bulbs regularly during winter storage to ensure that they are not too wet or too dry, and discard any that are showing signs of mold or rot.
Wait until all chance of frost has passed and the ground is dry and warm before replanting your amaryllis bulbs or moving the pots outdoors in the spring.
When it comes to family vacations, Turkey is a treasure trove of experiences waiting to be discovered.
This enchanting country, where East meets West, offers a blend of ancient history, stunning landscapes, and warm hospitality that will leave a lasting impression on all family members.
In this article, we’ll guide you through some great options for a family vacation in Turkey. From exploring historic sites to indulging in delectable cuisine and enjoying the beautiful coastline, Turkey has something to offer every family.
Discovering the rich history of Turkey
A land of legends
Turkey is a country steeped in history, with a legacy that spans millennia. There’s a wealth of ways to introduce your children to ancient civilisations, mythological tales, and archaeological wonders.
Ephesus
Explore the ancient city of Ephesus, one of the best-preserved Roman cities in the world. Highlights include the Library of Celsus and the Great Theatre.
Cappadocia
Embark on a surreal adventure in Cappadocia, where you can explore underground cities, hike through fairy chimneys, and take a hot air balloon ride over the breathtaking landscape.
Pamukkale
Visit Pamukkale, known as the “Cotton Castle,” with its terraces of white mineral-rich thermal waters. It’s not only a geological wonder, but also a unique place for a dip.
Turkey holiday packages: simplifying your travel
Convenient travel
Consider booking Turkey holiday packages to simplify your family’s travel arrangements. These packages often include flights, accommodations, and even guided tours, making your journey hassle-free.
Family-friendly hotels
Selecting family-friendly accommodation makes it easy to cater to everyone’s needs. Many hotels in Turkey offer amenities like pools, kids’ clubs, and spacious rooms for a comfortable stay.
Local Experiences
Look for packages that include authentic experiences like cooking classes, local market visits, and cultural performances to immerse your family in Turkish traditions.
The Turkish coastline: sun, sand, and sea
Aegean and Mediterranean coasts
Turkey’s coastline along the Aegean and Mediterranean Seas is known for its crystal-clear waters, golden beaches, and charming coastal towns.
Bodrum
Visit Bodrum, a popular family destination, known for its beautiful beaches, vibrant nightlife, and historical sites like Bodrum Castle.
Antalya
Antalya, often called the “Turkish Riviera,” has stunning beaches, ancient ruins, and the picturesque old town of Kaleiçi.
Blue Cruise
Consider taking a “Blue Cruise” along the Turkish coast, where you can sail on traditional wooden gulets, swim in secluded coves, and explore coastal villages.
A gastronomic adventure
Turkish cuisine
The rich flavours of Turkish cuisine include kebabs, mezes, baklava, and traditional Turkish delight. Don’t miss out on trying a Turkish breakfast spread.
Street food
Sample street food from vendors and market stalls. Favourites include simit (sesame-covered bread), gözleme (savoury flatbread), and döner kebabs.
Cooking classes
You could even take part in a family-friendly cooking class to learn how to prepare traditional dishes. It’s a fun and educational activity for all ages.
Outdoor adventures
Hot air balloon ride
Experience the magic of Cappadocia from a hot air balloon. It’s an adventure your family will remember forever as you soar over the unique landscape.
Hiking and nature
Turkey’s natural beauty can be explored through family hikes in places like Göreme National Park or along the Lycian Way trail.
Adventure parks
Family fun is top of the agenda at adventure parks like The Land of Legends Theme Park in Antalya, offering water rides, roller coasters, and entertainment for all ages.
Historical adventures
Ancient cities
Discover ancient cities like Troy and Aphrodisias, where your family can learn about history while exploring fascinating ruins.
Museums
Visit museums such as the Museum of Anatolian Civilisations in Ankara and the Istanbul Archaeology Museums for a deeper understanding of Turkey’s history.
Göbekli tepe
Göbekli tepe is the world’s oldest known temple complex, dating back over 11,000 years. It’s an archaeological marvel.
A guide to Istanbul
Istanbul, the captivating city that spans both Europe and Asia, is an essential stop on any family’s Guide to Europe. Explore the historic Sultanahmet district, where you’ll find iconic landmarks like the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, and Topkapi Palace.
Bosphorus cruise
A Bosphorus cruise will allow you to enjoy panoramic views of the city and pass by iconic landmarks like the Dolmabahçe Palace.
Grand Bazaar
Explore the Grand Bazaar, one of the world’s oldest and largest covered markets, where you can shop for souvenirs, spices, textiles, and more.
Practical tips for family travel in Turkey
Travel Insurance
It’s wise to purchase travel insurance, to ensure your family is covered in case of unexpected events like flight cancellations or medical emergencies.
Local customs
Take some time to familiarise yourself with local customs and traditions. This will help you all to show respect for Turkish culture.
Language
Learning a few basic Turkish phrases will definitely help you to communicate and connect with locals.
Safety
Turkey is generally safe for tourists, but it’s essential to stay informed about local conditions and adhere to travel advisories.
Currency
The currency in Turkey is the Turkish Lira (TRY). Make sure to have some cash on hand, especially in rural areas.
Creating lasting memories
Turkey is a land of endless discoveries, where history, nature, and cuisine come together to create a memorable family vacation. From exploring ancient sites to savouring delicious Turkish dishes and basking in the sun on beautiful beaches, your family will return home with a treasure trove of unforgettable memories. So, plan your vacation in Turkey, immerse yourself in the magic of this amazing country, and embark on a family adventure that will be cherished for years to come.
Want a needle-leaved conifer with a little less needle?
You should consider the Japanese yew, a woody shrub with beautiful leaf “needles” that are more akin to small, narrow blades.
And if the “Blade” trilogy of vampire-slaying films has taught us anything, it’s that blades are pretty dang awesome.
The foliage straddles the line between the interesting, pointed leaves of a pine tree and the densely-packed broad leaves of a boxwood shrub, creating an appearance that’s striking yet humble.
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Peppering the female plants are attractive red fruits, which are eye candy for onlookers and actual candy for many forms of wildlife.
This particular Taxus species has some notable advantages over other types, such as a faster growth rate, increased cold hardiness, and tolerance for pruning.
Even if you’re already a yew connoisseur, it’s well worth adding this particular species and its cultivars to your landscape.
To help you grow and care for the Japanese yew, we’ve assembled a thorough guide to its cultivation.
Every essential aspect is covered, from propagation to long-term maintenance. “Yew” will be well-prepared, that’s for sure.
Here’s what I’ll cover:
What Are Japanese Yews?
A member of the Taxaceae family, T. cuspidata belongs to the Taxus genus alongside a bunch of other yew species – the exact number of “a bunch” varies among botanists, from as few as seven to as many as 24.
Native to China, Japan, North Korea, South Korea, and Russia, the Japanese yew is hardy in USDA Zones 4 to 7, which extends significantly further north than the hardiness ranges of many yews.
T. cuspidata also has a leg up on other yews when it comes to pruning tolerance, vigor, and air pollution tolerance, making it among the toughest of the Taxus species.
In its native lowland and mountainous forests, these plants can reach heights of up to 50 feet, but tend to top out at 30 when grown in the landscape and pruned regularly.
Relative to height, the width can be smaller, larger, or pretty much proportional, depending on the variety, planting location, and degree of pruning.
The aforementioned dark green leaves grow up to an inch long, are arranged spirally around the stems, and often have twin yellow bands on their undersides.
As an evergreen, this shrub doesn’t develop beautiful fall color or lose all of its foliage each year like deciduous plants, but it does cyclically replace its old leaves with new ones once they turn three years old. In harsh winters, the foliage may take on a rusty, reddish-brown hue.
Japanese yews are dioecious, which means that there are separate male and female plants. From the female flowers grow small seed cones, each surrounded by a red, berry-like pulp that many woodland critters love to consume.
Except for the aforementioned pulp, like all yews the rest of the plant contains taxanes, which are extremely poisonous alkaloids that can kill humans, pets, and cattle in very small quantities. These taxanes don’t affect birds or deer, who can munch on them with impunity.
Assuming that nothing kills them, T. cuspidata can live for a very long time – some Russian specimens are reputed to be over a thousand years old!
Japanese Yew Propagation
Germinating a Japanese yew seed can take several years, which doesn’t include the time it takes for the seedling to reach a transplantable size.
If you’d like to have a T. cuspidata relatively quickly, then I’d recommend propagation via cuttings or purchasing a nursery start to transplant instead.
From Cuttings
In late summer to early fall, take four- to six-inch cuttings from the ends of healthy-looking shoots using a sharp and sterile blade.
Defoliate the lower half of each cutting, then apply some rooting hormone to the leafless section.
Fill a four-inch container with sand for each cutting that you took, then stick the cuttings two inches deep into the sand, cut ends down.
Wet the sand with water, set the containers on individual saucers or a tray to collect the liquid that drains out, then place the containers somewhere they can receive a lot of indirect sunlight, such as by a south-facing window.
Keep the sand moist as the cuttings develop roots. You can check for rooting by giving the cuttings a gentle tug – if you feel some resistance, then you’ll know that the root system is solid.
Repot as needed to provide the cuttings with an inch or two of elbow room on all sides.
If the root systems are amply strong and there’s additional aboveground growth by spring, they’ll be ready to harden off to the outdoors in preparation for transplanting.
To harden off, leave the cuttings outdoors for a half to full hour before bringing them back inside.
Add an additional 30 to 60 minutes of exposure to each following day until the cuttings are able to be outside for a full day.
At this point, they’re ready to put in the ground!
Via Transplanting
Whether you have rooted T. cuspidata cuttings or purchased transplants from a nursery, it’s pretty simple to transplant them.
Once your area’s final frost date has passed, find a spot in your garden with sandy to loamy soil. Ensure that the soil is well-draining, has a pH of 6.0 to 6.5, and that the location receives full sun to partial shade exposure. Some shielding from wind would be wise, too.
If you’re planting multiple specimens, be sure to space them apart adequately. If you want to grow a hedge, provide 12 to 18 inches of elbow room for each plant.
Otherwise, give each planting enough room to reach their mature spread without bumping into each other – anywhere from three to 30 feet, depending on the variety.
Dig holes that are just as deep and a bit wider than the transplants’ root systems. If you’d like, mixing a couple inches of organic matter into the dug-out soil before backfilling can provide your transplants with a nice fertility boost.
After removing them from their containers, gently lower the transplants in, level their crowns with the soil surface, then backfill and water in.
How to Grow Japanese Yews
Now that you’ve situated your Japanese yews in their new homes, let’s discuss how to keep them happy throughout their stay.
Climate and Exposure Needs
T. cuspidata needs to grow in USDA Hardiness Zones 4 to 7 to survive year-round. But as long as this condition is met, you’ve got a lot of flexibility otherwise.
Atmospheric pollution, moderate bouts of wind, extreme shade… it’s all tolerable for a Japanese yew. But for optimal health, full sun to partial shade exposure is best, along with protection from wind.
Can’t decide which to go with or simply want more direction? The more northern you are, the more sunlight you should provide. Vice versa the further south you go.
Soil Needs
Ample drainage, a pH of 6.0 to 6.5, and an average amount of organic matter make for a happy Japanese yew.
If your soil is a bit low on fertility, amending the root zone with a couple inches of organic matter every spring can provide a boost of nutrients.
Water Needs
Drenched and waterlogged soil can spell disaster for T. cuspidata roots. Along with providing ample drainage, you can prevent soggy soils by irrigating properly.
To pull this off, allow the top three to four inches of soil to dry before irrigating.
Using my own average-length digits for reference, if you can stick your entire finger into the soil without feeling moisture, then you’ve got the green light to water.
Growing Tips
Full sun to partial shade exposure is ideal.
Ample drainage is essential.
Allow the top three inches of soil to dry before watering.
Pruning and Maintenance
In terms of pruning possibility, a yew such as T. cuspidata is second only to a boxwood.
Whether you’re trying for a bonsai, an elaborate topiary, or simply a nice rectangle, early spring is the perfect time for shaping your Japanese yew.
Regardless of what you’re going for, try and keep your removed trimmings to less than one third of the aboveground greenery.
Damaged, dead, or diseased branches can be removed whenever you happen to notice them.
Mulching the root zone with an inch or two of wood chips or pine straw will help to protect the roots and suppress weed growth. But make sure to keep it a couple inches from the crown to prevent rot!
In winter, your Japanese yews will need less water than they would during the growing season. Water as much as necessary to prevent desiccation, and cease watering entirely while the ground is frozen.
A standard Japanese yew is beautiful, no doubt… but sometimes, you just want something a bit different.
If it’s variety that you seek, then these three cultivars are sure to provide it. Remember: these plants are dioecious, so if you want fruits, then you’ll have to plant both a male and a female.
Capitata
‘Capitata’ is a tree-like form of the shrub we all know and love. Capable of reaching 40 to 50 feet in height, this cultivar takes on a pyramidal habit naturally, although pruning allows for different shapes.
Photo via Alamy.
In addition, female ‘Capitata’ specimens are capable of producing a vast amount of fruit, which are capable of attracting even more animals and gazes than usual.
Densa
On the opposite side of the size spectrum, we’ve got ‘Densa,’ a dwarf variety with a spreading growth habit.
‘Densa’ slowly reaches a height of four feet and a spread of eight feet, making it the perfect selection for placing next to a walkway or a structure’s foundation.
Nana Aurescens
Another small and slow-growing variety, ‘Nana Aurescens’ grows two feet tall, spreads three to four feet wide, and shakes things up with a beautiful golden yellow color.
Photo via Alamy.
This color manifests itself in the first-year growth of leaves before they mature to a gorgeous dark green in subsequent years.
When it’s all taken in, it kinda looks like frosted tips, which look a lot better on plants than they do on people.
Managing Pests and Disease
Many health issues in Japanese yews can be prevented by properly caring for your shrubs from the get-go.
However, certain threats need a more specific approach.
As winter starts and the pickings get slim, hungry deer will often turn their attention to yews, which can leave them severely defoliated and looking worse for wear.
Applications of deer repellent on susceptible plants can repel these cervids, while a properly-constructed deer fence placed around your landscape will keep them out entirely.
Enviro Pro offers six-pound tubs of granular deer repellent on Amazon.
Since insects are inclined to vector pathogens, you should definitely dial in your pest management practices, lest you have a disease on your hands as well as bugs.
Black Vine Weevil
A threat to Japanese yews in both its larval and adult form, the black vine weevil (Otiorhynchus sulcatus) is not to be taken lightly.
The larvae are C-shaped white grubs, while the hard-shelled adults are shiny and black.
The former takes half-oval bites out of leaves, while the latter primarily eats the roots and lower stems. If the damage is severe enough, the plant can lose vigor and health before eventually perishing.
Neem oil sprays are enough to kill adults, while beneficial nematodes like Steinernema carpocapsae will take care of the grubs.
Congregating in white, cottony masses, mealybugs such as Phenacoccus citri, P. gossypii, and P. longispinus use their piercing-sucking mouthparts to extract vital sap from the leaves and branches of a Japanese yew, which can leave infested sections with chlorosis and necrosis.
If the infestation is large enough, then these symptoms can wreak havoc on the entire specimen.
Sprays of horticultural oil or insecticidal soap should be more than enough for controlling mealybugs without resorting to chemical pesticides.
Also known as Pulvinaria floccifera, the taxus scale is a flattened, yellow to brown species of soft scale that feeds from Japanese yew leaves in similar manner to mealybugs, and causes similar symptoms of decline.
As it feeds, the Taxus scale excretes honeydew, which attracts ants and leads to the formation of black sooty mold.
Your best bet is to utilize horticultural oil against these pests during their crawler stage in early summer.
Disease
Sanitary gardening practices go a long way in preventing disease.
Such practices include using sanitized gardening tools, planting in disease-free soils, and raking up nearby plant detritus that may harbor pathogens.
Phytophthora Rot
Caused by oomycetes in the Phytophthora genus, Phytophthora rot leads to foliar chlorosis, needle drop, shoot dieback, root discoloration, and stunted growth in a Japanese yew.
In the case of severe infections, the combined stress of all these different issues can eventually lead to the shrub’s death.
Since the causal pathogen loves wet conditions, not oversaturating the soil is a powerful form of prevention.
If the plant becomes infected, pruning out diseased tissues can limit the spread to other specimens, while sprays or soil drenches of fungicides can help prevent infection.
Root Rot
Root rot also tends to begin with excess moisture, but it’s entirely an abiotic condition.
While many rots are caused by actual pathogens such as fungi, bacteria, and oomycetes, “root rot” refers to the root suffocation that occurs when plant roots sit in oversaturated soils that don’t allow for air to reach the roots.
When the roots aren’t able to breathe, they start to die and become necrotic, which leads to overall deterioration above the soil line, as well. And if this occurs for long enough at a high enough severity, then the entire plant may perish.
Keeping your soil from becoming oversaturated is the most important part of preventing root rot. If your tree has become afflicted, cease watering immediately to allow the soil to dry out more.
If you’re able to lift an afflicted plant out of the ground, you can try to remove any rotted roots. But if more than half of the root system is rotted-out, then the plant may be beyond saving.
Best Uses for Japanese Yews
In your arsenal of possible plantings, the Japanese yew is essentially a multitool, a jack of all trades. It can play many roles in the landscape.
A mass of T. cuspidata is a great way to line the foundation of your house or screen your property from prying eyes.
It can be sheared into a unique shape, kept pleasantly geometric, or even grown as bonsai. Options abound!
Quick Reference Growing Guide
Plant Type:
Evergreen woody shrub
Foliage Color:
Green (red fruit)
Native to:
China, Japan, North and South Korea, Russia
Water Needs:
Moderate
Hardiness (USDA Zone):
4-7
Maintenance:
Moderate
Bloom Time / Season:
Spring
Tolerance:
Air pollution, drought, heavy shade, moderate wind, rabbits
Exposure:
Full sun to part shade
Soil Type:
Sandy loam, average fertility
Time to Maturity:
10-20 years
Soil pH:
6.0-6.5
Spacing:
12-18 inches (hedging), width of mature spread (specimens)
Soil Drainage:
Well-draining
Planting Depth:
Depth of root system (transplants)
Attracts:
Birds, deer
Height:
3-30 feet
Uses:
Bonsai, hedges, foundation plantings, groupings, masses, screens, topiaries
Spread:
3-30 feet or more
Family:
Taxaceae
Growth Rate:
Fast (juvenile), slow (mature)
Genus:
Taxus
Common Pests and Diseases:
Black vine weevils, mealybugs, Taxus scale; Phytophthora rot, root rot
Species:
Cuspidata
You’re Overdue for a Japanese Yew
If your landscape is short a Japanese yew or two, then you might want to get on that ASAP. You’ll thank me later.
Regardless of how you use this shrub, it’s sure to stand out. Cultivate it right, and it’ll do so for the long haul!
Curious about anything else Japanese yew-related? Have tips of your own to share? Head on down to the comments section below!
Are you looking for some family-friendly funny Halloween jokes for kids? Then you’ve come to the right place!
This list of hilarious kids Halloween jokes has 159 howlers that are bound to get the whole family smiling.
The best Halloween puns and spooky Halloween jokes for kids
Whether it’s funny Halloween sayings, knock knock jokes, or silly Halloween puns you’re after, there’s the perfect Halloween joke here.
All of these Halloween jokes are kid-friendly, and there’s nothing too gruesome, so the whole family can enjoy them. They are frighteningly silly jokes though!
Make sure you check out my list of 100 Halloween quotes for even more Halloween fun.
Funny Halloween jokes for kids
These Halloween puns and Halloween jokes for kids will make you laugh until you’re coffin 😉
Why are ghosts terrible liars? Because you can see right through them.
What makes trick or treating with twin witches so challenging? You never know which witch is which.
How do you turn the lights out on Halloween night? Use the lights witch.
Why did the headless horseman apply to college? He wanted to get ahead in life.
What do you call a skeleton who never does his chores? Lazy bones.
What’s the first thing a black cat does on Halloween? Wake up.
Why did the skeleton quit his job? His heart wasn’t in it.
What kind of dog does a vampire have? A bloodhound.
Where do fashionable ghosts shop? Bootiques.
How do you know a mummy caught a cold? It starts coffin.
What’s a vampire’s favourite fruit? A blood orange.
What Halloween monster is the best dancer? The Boogie Man.
Ghost jokes and ghost puns for spooky season
Give the kids the giggles with these cute ghost jokes and ghost puns.
How does a ghost unlock a door? With a spoo-key.
What’s a ghost’s favourite makeup to wear? Mas-scare-a.
What room does a ghost not need in a house? A living room.
What position do ghosts play in football? Ghoul-keeper.
Where do ghosts love to go on holiday? The Boo-hamas.
What’s a ghost’s favourite fairground ride? The roller-ghoster.
Where do ghosts buy their food? At the ghost-ery store.
What’s a ghost’s favourite play? Romeo and Ghouliet.
How do ghosts keep their hair in place? They use scare spray.
What hobby is great for a girl ghost? Ghoul scouts.
How do ghost musicians learn songs? They read sheet music.
What’s a ghost’s favourite food? Boo-rittos.
Where do ghosts mail letters? The ghost office.
Skeleton jokes and skeleton puns
Tickle your funny bone with these skeleton puns and skeleton jokes. Our list of skull puns and jokes is perfect for Halloween humour too.
Who is the most famous skeleton detective? Sherlock Bones.
How did the skeleton know it was going to rain? It could feel it in it’s bones.
What do skeletons say as they head out to sea? Bone voyage.
What kind of plate do skeletons eat on? Bone china.
Why didn’t the skeleton go to the scary movie? He didn’t have the guts.
How do skeletons say hello in France? Bonejour.
Why are skeletons so calm? Because nothing gets under their skin.
What do French skeletons say before eating their dinner? Bone appetit!
Why can’t skeletons play church music? Because they have no organs.
What type of candy sent the skeleton to the hospital? Jawbreakers.
Why didn’t the skeleton laugh at the joke? Because he didn’t have a funny bone.
What is a skeleton’s favourite instrument? A trom-bone.
Witch puns and witch jokes
Got some little witch and wizard fans in the house? These witch puns and witch jokes will get them cackling!
What do witches put on their bagels? Scream cheese.
What did the tired witch do? She sat down for a spell.
What do you call two witches who live together? Broom-mates.
Have you heard about the good weather witch? She’s only anticipating sunny spells.
What did the angry witch do after sitting on her broomstick? She flew off the handle.
Why was the broom late? It over swept.
What would you find on a haunted beach? A sand-witch.
What do you call a fast broomstick? A vroom-stick.
What was the witch’s favourite subject at school? Spell-ing.
Why did the witch give up fortune-telling? She saw no future in it.
What do you learn in witch school? Spelling.
What is a witch’s favourite fairground ride? The scary-go-round.
How do you make a witch scratch? By taking away the ‘w’.
What happened to the witch who was naughty at school? She was ex-spelled.
What does a witch get when she’s in a hotel? Broom service.
Pumpkin puns and pumpkin jokes
Enjoy some jack-o-lantern japes with these jokes about pumpkins. Check out my bumper list of pumpkin puns too.
What’s a pumpkin’s favourite sport? Squash.
Why was the jack-o-lantern afraid to cross the road? It had no guts.
What do you get if you divide the diameter of a pumpkin by its circumference? Pumpkin pi.
Who helps little pumpkins cross the road safely? The crossing gourd.
How do you fix a broken jack-o-lantern? Use a pumpkin patch.
What do you call a chubby Jack-o-Lantern? A plumpkin.
Why do pumpkins sit outside people’s houses? They have no hands to knock on the door.
What do you call a pumpkin that works at the beach? A life gourd.
Why are jack-o-lanterns so forgetful? Because they’re empty-headed.
Where do pumpkins hold their meetings? The gourd room.
What did the pumpkin say to the pumpkin carver? Cut it out.
What do you call a sporty pumpkin? A jock o’ lantern.
Vampire jokes and vampire puns
Ready for some blood curdling humour? Enjoy these silly vampire jokes and vampire puns at your Halloween party.
Why did Dracula take cold medicine? Because he was coffin too much.
What do you get when youcross a vampire with a sheep? Drac-Ewe-La.
Why do vampires not want to become investment bankers? They hate stakeholders.
Why did count Dracula fail at Art? He was only able to draw blood.
What is a vampire’s favourite fruit? Neck-tarines.
When a vampire is ill, how can you tell? By how much he’s coffin.
Why did the vampire need mouthwash? Because he had bat breath.
What exams to vampires take? Blood tests.
Where do vampires keep their money? In a blood bank.
What ships do vampires like to sail in? Blood vessels.
Why don’t vampires wear makeup? Because they can’t see their reflection.
Where does Dracula usually take a bath? In a bat tub.
Why do vampires refuse to bet on horses? Because of their inability to handle the stakes.
Why doesn’t Dracula attack chickens? Because chickens have fowl blood.
What was Dracula’s favourite subject in college? Ac-count-ing.
Bat puns and bat jokes
These bat jokes and bat puns will leave you in a flap…
What animal is best at cricket? A bat.
Why did the bat want to get a job? She was fed up of hanging around.
What is the only thing smarter than a talking bat? A spelling bee.
What’s a baby bat’s favourite food? A tasty bowl of alpha-bat soup.
Who does the famous bat get letters from? His fang club.
What is the best way to hold a bat? By its handle.
What’s the first thing that bats learn at school? The alphabat.
Why do bats live in caves? Because they rock!
What kind of bat can do a back flip? An acro-bat.
Where do bats sleep? In the bat cave.
Why are bats good at fighting? They’re trained in com-bat.
How do bats manage to fly without bumping into each other? They use their wing mirrors.
What do you call a bat who gets charged up to fly? A battery.
What did a mummy bat say to her naughty son? You bat boy!
Zombie jokes and zombie puns
These zombie jokes and zombie puns are a no-brainer for Halloween fun.
What bread do zombies usually eat? Whole brain.
What does a vegan zombie eat? Grains.
Where do you go during a zombie apocalypse? The living room.
What would you call an undead cheese? Zom-brie.
Why do many zombies go to sleep early? They are dead tired.
What do you call a zombie in pyjamas? The sleepwalking dead.
Why are zombies so good at videogames? Dead-ication.
Where do zombies live? On a dead end street.
Who did the zombie take to the dance? His ghoul-friend.
Spider puns and spider jokes
Spin a web of giggles with these spider jokes and spider puns.
Why did the teenage spider get into trouble with his mum? He spent too much time on the web.
What did the spider say to the fly? Buzz off.
Why are spiders so unproductive? Because they hang out on the web all day.
What does annoying a spider do? Drives it up the wall.
What’s the most common career choice among spiders? Web development.
Why don’t spiders go to school? Because they learn everything on the web.
What did the spider do with her new car? She took it out for a spin.
What do you call spiders who just got married? Newlywebs.
Why do spiders usually get jobs in tech? Most of them are already competent web developers.
What do you call a special agent spider? A Spy-der.
How do spiders communicate? The world wide web.
More funny jokes for Halloween
Get the spooky giggles with even more funny Halloween jokes and Halloween puns.
What monster plays tricks on Halloween? Prank-enstein.
Why did the ghost go into the bar? For the Boos.
What does a panda ghost eat? Bam-boo.
What’s a ghost’s favorite dessert? I-Scream.
How do you know when a ghost is sad? He starts boo hooing.
What kind of horse do ghosts ride? A night-mare.
What is in a ghost’s nose? Boo-gers.
Why did the policeman ticket the ghost on Halloween? It didn’t have a haunting license.
How do vampires start their letters? Tomb it may concern.
Why are graveyards so noisy? Because of all the coffin.
What was the chicken ghost’s name? Poultrygeist.
Why do ghosts make the best cheerleaders? They have a lot of spirit.
Halloween dad jokes
How about some Halloween dad jokes to make the kids cringe? These corny Halloween jokes will definitely do the trick.
Why don’t skeletons like Halloween candy? They don’t have the stomach for it.
What does the doctor vampire say when he calls up a patient? Necks please.
What did the bat say to the teacher who returned after missing a day of school? Welcome bat.
Where does a vampire go to have a shower? They go to the batroom.
What do birds say on Halloween? Trick or tweet.
How did the zombie become great at trick or treating? Dead-ication.
What did the vampire doctor say to his patient? You need more iron.
What do you call a zombie that speaks two languages? Zombilingual.
How do ghosts do their makeup before they go out trick or treating? They use vanishing cream.
What is a baby ghost’s favorite game to play on Halloween? Peek-a-boo.
How does Dracula keep fit? By playing batminton.
What did the vampire’s mum say when he shouted at her? Young man, you need to watch your battitude.
Why didn’t anyone want to go trick or treating with Dracula? Because he is a pain in the neck.
What do ghosts give out to trick or treaters? Booberries.
How does a vampire enter his house? Through the bat flap.
Halloween knock-knock jokes
You can’t beat a classic Halloween knock knock joke. Here are a few of our favourites.
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Bat. Bat who? Bat you can’t guess who it is!
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Boo. Boo who? Don’t cry, it’s just a trick or treater!
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Witch. Witch who? Witch way to the Halloween candy?
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Jack. Jack who? Jack-o’-Lantern!
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Ice cream. Ice cream who? Ice scream every time I see a scary pumpkin!
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Ivana. Ivana who? Ivana suck your blood!
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Frank. Frank who? Frankenstein!
Knock Knock. Who’s there? Fangs. Fangs who? Fangs for letting me in!
Knock Knock, Who’s there? Twick. Twick who? Twick or tweet!
Even more silly Halloween jokes for kids
Not had enough yet? Here are a few more of the best Halloween jokes for kids and Halloween puns to finish things off.
What do you get when you drop a pumpkin? Squash.
What do bony people use to get into their homes? Skeleton keys!
What do you call a barking pumpkin? A gourd dog.
Why did Dracula study maths at college? Because he loves to count.
What is it called when ghosts commit a robbery? A polterheist.
Why didn’t the skeleton eat spicy food? He didn’t have the stomach for it.
What’s a ghost’s favourite game? Hide and Shriek.
What happens if you eat too much pumpkin? You get autumn-y ache.
Why do skeletons like to drink milk? Because milk is so good for the bones.
What do you get when you cross a chicken with a ghost? A peck-a-boo.
What did the pumpkin say after thanksgiving? Good-pie everyone.
How do pumpkins greet each other? Happy Hollowing!
Tell us your favourite Halloween jokes for kids!
I hope this roundup of children’s Halloween jokes and Halloween puns has given you lots of spooky laughs. Do share your favourite kid-friendly trick-or-treat jokes, Halloween humour and spooky jokes in the comments if they’re not on the list.
More family-friendly jokes
I’ve got lots of other jokes and puns posts for you to explore:
Yesterday I posted a video on our new terra preta burn pit:
As an addendum to that video, this article shared by David Kindltot provides some new information supporting the anthropogenic origin of terra preta, via the study of the farming and waste disposal practices of a surviving indigenous population.
“To determine what practices formed dark earth and whether it was intentionally created, we augmented our archaeological and soil analyses with ethnographic research in the present-day Kuikuro II village (Figs. 1B and 3E), which has documented enriched soils from contemporary Indigenous land management practices (Materials and Methods) (48). Fishing and manioc agriculture create large quantities of nutrient-rich organic waste (Fig. 3A), much of which is deposited in trash middens mounded up to ~50 to 60 cm above the original ground surface (Fig. 3B), creating the most fertile and intensely modified soil in areas surrounding residences (Fig. 2A and figs. S3, S7 to S15, and S19 to S21) (47). Once dark earth begins to form in these midden areas, typically within a few years, residents often exploit it for planting nutrient-demanding crops (Fig. 3C) that do not grow well on unmodified soils according to Kuikuro farmers (tables S5 and S6). We also observed farmers spreading this organic refuse, particularly ash and charcoal (Fig. 3D) and manioc waste (Fig. 3F), as well as mulching (Fig. 3G) and in-field burning (Fig. 3H), in fields on the periphery of the village (Fig. 3I).”
One question that this article raised in my mind was: what about human waste?
Is it incorporated into these middens? Or are the residents of Kuikuro II going further into the woods to relieve themselves?
Current List of Possible Terra Preta Ingredients
In our new biochar burns we are now incorporating animal bones and meat, as you can see in the video. We’ll also add non-burned bones and slaughter waste. Yesterday, we also dug up some clay and are making rough pottery which we can then burn and turn into shards.
From what we’ve found so far, terra preta was created in poor clay soils and contains:
Ashes Charcoal Bones Pottery shards Cassava waste
It also likely contains fish waste, other crop waste, human and/or animal manure and slaughter waste, and possibly aquatic material and muck from flooding events.
If I seem to be missing anything, let me know in the comments.
We have sandy soil here, and therefore do not have the proper substrate for our midden creation, but we’ll work on getting some more clay we can use. It may be possible to have a load dropped which we can work with.
The addition of the “slaughter waste” from a local restaurant is a good step forward.
The Current Terra Preta Plan:
If we make a pile of clay, then layer our pit-burned materials on it with more clay along with other organic wastes, we may get there. We’ll leave it to sit and see if there is any change over time. We may also dig some freshly mixed material into a garden bed, and have a second non-amended bed next to it as a control.
As we get into fall, I find myself always looking back on the plants I’ve seen that I’d like to add to my garden in the future. It is a lot of fun, and I thought I’d share some of my favorite plants of the year, specifically NATIVE plants. I garden in northern Indiana, so I mean native broadly to this part of North America.
In the spring, I see spring beauty (Claytonia virginiana, Zones 4–9) all over any wooded area, but I almost never see it in gardens. The individual flowers are small but are often produced in huge numbers, making a carpet of pink under the trees. I think a bunch of them under the big maple in my front yard would be perfect.
Another native woodland wildflower I rarely see in gardens is hepatica (Hepatica americana, Zones 3–9). It has beautiful flowers, and even better, unlike on most native spring bloomers the foliage stays up all summer so they don’t leave a blank spot in the garden. I finally planted a few of these at home, so I’m looking forward to seeing them bloom there.
Trout lily (Erythronium americanum, Zones 3–8) is another wonderful little woodland ephemeral, with pretty speckled foliage and cheery yellow lilylike flowers.
A final woodland spring ephemeral is bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis, Zones 3–8). The flowers don’t last long, but they sure are beautiful while they flower!
This is a very special wildflower that I’ll probably never be able to grow at home but would love to find a spot for: hairy puccoon (Lithospermum caroliniense, Zones 3–7). It grows only in very dry, sandy soil, such as on the dunes next to Lake Michigan. I love seeing it flowering in the wild each spring.
Lilies are a great part of any garden—so why not a native one? This is Lilium michiganense (Zones 3–8) with over-the-top brilliant red-and-orange flowers.
Scarlet bee balm (Monarda didyma, Zones 4–9) is very common in gardens, and for good reason—what a color! And why aren’t I growing it yet? I’m adding it to the list for next year, for sure.
Spotted bee balm (Monarda punctata, Zones 3–8) looks pretty different from the scarlet bee balm, but it is such a beautiful plant. While scarlet bee balm prefers wet soil, spotted bee balm thrives in dry spots. I think I have places for both of them!
Goldenrods are underappreciated natives, and this is my favorite species, showy goldenrod (Solidago speciosa, Zones 3–8). I love it because it is, as the name suggests, very showy. It also isn’t, in my experience, an aggressive spreader, so it fits better in a small garden. And finally, monarch butterflies just love it! I finally planted some at home this year, but this photo is from a wild population near Lake Michigan.
What natives looked good in your garden—or in the wild—this year? Send them into the GPOD. We’d love to see them!
Have a garden you’d like to share?
Have photos to share? We’d love to see your garden, a particular collection of plants you love, or a wonderful garden you had the chance to visit!
To submit, send 5-10 photos to [email protected] along with some information about the plants in the pictures and where you took the photos. We’d love to hear where you are located, how long you’ve been gardening, successes you are proud of, failures you learned from, hopes for the future, favorite plants, or funny stories from your garden.
The rewilding project at Knepp, a farming estate in Sussex, England, has been well-documented, first with c0-owner Isabella Tree’s best-selling eco-memoir, Wilding—and now with her new book, The Book of Wilding: A Practical Guide to Rewilding Big and Small. Written with her husband Charlie Burrell, whose family bequeathed him an infertile and unprofitable farm 11 years ago, it is a rewilding manual for serious enquirers, a preparation-results-conclusion guide to achieving a phenomenal surge in biodiversity on anyone’s land.
Rewilding has been interpreted as permission to let go, to let weeds trip people up as they navigate city streets, or to sit back and watch the most vigorous plants take over our once-tended green spaces. “Time to End the Rewilding Menace,” Julie Burchill argued in the Spectator a few weeks ago, while the British press created a storm over comments from gardeners Monty Don and Alan Titchmarsh (who respectively called it “puritanical nonsense” and “an ill-considered trend”). Anyone with a vested interest in garden design is against rewilding, we are led to believe.
But there is a distinction between wilding and rewilding, arguably. Rewilding a large tract of land involves healing a landscape and reintroducing missing fauna and mega-fauna (or at least mimicking their activity in the interim) as a step towards restoring ecological function. Wilding a garden on the other hand is beautifully attainable for all; a wilded flower pot, tree pit, stoop, or balcony may sound silly, but it really just means being guided by nature when planting, rather than relying on received ideas.
Photography by Jim Powell, except where noted.
Above: Are you a beaver, or a bison? The best-in-show garden at the 2022 Chelsea Flower Show came to be known as “the beaver garden.”
The subject of wilding and rewilding is complicated, as reflected in the book’s size (560 pages). For speed readers, it is absurdly easy to mock. In the chapter “Becoming the Herbivore,” we are directed to replicate a “pig nest,” the rootling disturbance of wild boar, a “stallion latrine” (introducing dung to encourage nettles). For anyone coming to grips with just mowing their lawns less frequently, it can be disquieting when a gardener says, “You are the bison.” What they are trying to tell you is that in the absence of keystone species—roaming herbivores—it is up to us to create optimal conditions for biodiversity with our own periodic disturbance: roughing up terrain and making inviting pockets for habitat, spreading seeds as an animal would in their hooves and fur, interrupting the impulse of trees to grow up into a closed canopy forest. Anybody with a serious amount of land can leave this to wild ponies, elk, and rare breed pigs.
A fall planter Rhonda created—she hopes Cherry Ong, GPOD’s resident queen of using pumpkins in fall displays, will approve! The orange celosia (Celosia argentea, annual) looks amazing in the back.
Fall-blooming witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana, Zones 3–9) is native around much of eastern North America, with the delicate gold flowers usually showing up just as the leaves drop for a beautiful display before winter.
Actea (Actea simplex, Zones 4–8) is a native perennial with several beautiful selections boasting dramatic dark foliage. The tall spires of white flowers come at the end of summer and add wonderful fragrance.
This selection of hostas still looks perfect. They’ll switch to a gorgeous yellow fall color before vanishing underground for the winter.
Italian arum (Arum italicum, Zones 5–9) is a great plant for shade. It goes dormant during the summer, but then the leaves return in the fall, along with these showy orange berries. And the leaves stay green all winter, providing great interest for the cold months of the year.
Turtlehead (Chelone obliqua, Zones 5–9) is a great native perennial for sun to partial shade with cute little pink flowers from late summer into fall.
The twisting branches and delicate leaves of this spectacular Japanese maple (Acer palmatum, Zones 5–9) make a magical shady spot where Rhonda’s grandson likes to play.
Colchicum (Colchicum ‘Waterlily’, Zones 4–7) bursts into dramatic lavender blooms in the fall. The leaves come up in the spring, then go dormant all summer before showing up again as if out of nowhere.
‘the comfort of crows,’ with margaret renkl
Margaret Renkl: I think that’s an interesting question, because there are actually more bluebirds and more goldfinches, I think, in the book than there are crows. But I was trying to think about… The longer I worked on this book, the more it became clear to me that what I was really writing about was kinship. I was writing about the ways in which we belong to one another not just in our families or in our communities or in our country, but also to the creatures who share our habitats.
Margaret Renkl: We’ve been in this house 28 years. The house is… It’s a small ranch house built in 1950. All the houses in this neighborhood were built on one of two floor plans. And they were starter homes for GI’s returning from World War II. And so the house is… Well, we’ve added onto it a little bit. We’ve added a bedroom and a family room, but it sits cattywampus on the lot.
Margaret Roach: Right, right. So every gardener I talked to in recent years in every area of the country is sort of in semi-shock as each year unfolds. You’ve been there a long time. I’ve been in my place a long time. And what we all say to one another is, “Yikes, it doesn’t feel like my place. It doesn’t feel the same. The seasons aren’t the same. The bloom times aren’t the same. The plants aren’t the same size.” You name it, right, the list of difference. It’s different.
Margaret Renkl: Yeah, well, it’s a little lizard. We have two different kinds of skinks. Well, we really have three different kinds in this yard, but I can’t tell two of them apart. It requires a level of intimacy that the skink does not wish me to have.
Margaret Roach: I just wanted to shout out a couple of other “gardeners” who are gardening in your… who are planting, or farmers, maybe, who are planting in your yard, who I read about it, I think, on Instagram as well [laughter from Margaret Renkl]. The squirrels, you note…
