Showing posts with label native plants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label native plants. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Got You Covered! Pretty Ornamental, Native, & Evergreen Ground Cover Plants Your Garden Will Love

 

“Ground Cover” sounds so pedestrian. So banal. Yet, we shouldn’t “look down” upon these workhorses of good garden design. Rather, let’s think of Ground Covers as a kind of garden tapestry that adds a carpet of beautiful color, (oh the metaphors!) along with fragrance, and texture ~ all while keeping the soil in and weeds out. 

Let’s explore what are some of the best, most beautiful, easy-maintenance ground covers; many that are native which are beneficial for the pollinators, too. And you’ll see that these pretty, low-growing blooms look so fetching as cut flowers for your indoor floral design compositions. 

Here, I’ll share with you some of my favorite, go-to groundcovers that I turn to when designing for my clients and in my own gardens.  

 

Thursday, September 22, 2016

The PawPaw Fruit Tree is not the Unicorn of the Garden! Discover its Homegrown Taste



PawPaw. Say it again. PawPaw. Isn’t it lyrical (in the true sense)? In fact, the pawpaw is indeed a beloved American folk song, a kind of treasured nursery rhyme, and a full-throated scout song. Sing it with me: “Picking up pawpaws; puttin’ ‘em in your pockets, pickin’ up pawpaws, puttin’ ‘em in a basket. Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.”

Ahhh - it’s all coming back. Bet you thought it was just a fun song - and that it is, no doubt. However, the backstory to the popular ditty is based on solid horticulture.
The Asimina triloba or pawpaw is a true American, by and large eastern native -- and homegrown personalities from George Washington (a chilled pawpaw was his go-to dessert) to Disney Paw, paw, patch have sung its glories. The tree is the largest native North American fruit that boasts a banana-like, mango, honey taste with a custard-like texture. After all, it’s in the same plant family as the custard apple and ylang-ylang.

I planted an asimina triloba - aka: pawpaw about 16 years ago in a Garden State client’s yard in a front garden room, as part of that bed’s native plants composition. It was a good-looking tree right off the bat; big elongated, curvy leaves that appear rather tropical that turn a soft yellow in the fall.

From a design viewpoint, I wanted the Asimina to work with the other plants there, especially in the autumn complementing the birch’s yellow leaves and the callicarpa/Beautyberry's purple berries.


Yet, after the decade-plus euphoria about the tree itself waned, (just a smidge) and I was more horticulturally sophisticated :) -- I so yearned for the fruit. Where oh where was the pawpaw’s dreamed of fruit?

I reached out to Clemson and other land grant universities to determine why we had no fruit. The answer was embarrassingly obvious. We needed a mate! Yet how to determine the sex of your paw-paw was not entirely clear to me; plus with lots of seemingly more pressing deadlines and needs - I just didn’t learn the gender of our baby...

Then, with no matchmaking or OK-Cupid -- there was no denying those purple, royal-looking, double-frocked, cone-shaped flowers dripping from the paw-paw this spring - surely a hopeful sign of good things to come.


See, the paw-paws can spread by runners or suckers -- thereby creating the irrepressible “way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.” Somewhere in that patch tree love took root!

(There is a very scientific reason to explain the rhizomes and their ability to separate as new plants to reproduce.)

So, it was with great excitement that a few week’s ago, that Darin - a very talented horticulturist and Master Gardener I'm privileged to have work with me and Duchess Designs, pointed up to the low hanging pawpaw fruit! I could barely contain my joy.


This was news to share with friends and like-minded food and garden tribes on my social media: @chefsgardens on Twitter and Instagram and @GardenGlamour and on Facebook, too. Folks were pea-green with envy! :)

I couldn’t wait to try the fruit. One was soft already despite it being only August and the fruits generally don’t mature till early autumn around by me. I couldn’t wait.

Back home, I cut the fruit lengthwise - kind of like cutting into an avocado (the pawpaw leaves are not unlike that of the avocado, as well) - and reveled in the satisfaction of at long last seeing this kind of unicorn of the native fruit world.


Slowly, I scooped up the custard like flesh and tasted. It was thick, creamy, truly a mash-up of banana and mango -- perhaps a bit of pineapple or papaya -- as billed, with a bit of a sugary, honey aftertaste.

Altogether, it tasted like “more!”


I tried to stretch out the tasting as long as I could. It was refreshing and at the same time the texture was substantive - if you know what I mean. The pawpaw fruit premiere tasting was everything I’d hoped for - plus.

There was no denying that some of the pleasure was the built-up expectation - that feeling you get when you finally visit a dreamscape or see a work of art completed. Or “eat with your eyes first” when viewing a charming tablescape presentation. It all figures into the sensuality and enhances the overall experience..

I couldn’t wait to share the paw-paw: it’s a rare treat “discovery” and yet native stalwart that helped sustain the Native Americans and pioneers. This is such a great backstory of the known and obscure, the native and yet exotic.

At the same time, there wasn’t too much of the fruit to be had. I gave some to my client, after all. In thinking of recipes I could use to show off this native garden star - my thoughts turned to dessert; prompted by the custard consistency I opted for a pudding. I had just made the corn ice cream the week before or I might have created a paw-paw ice cream treat; I think the pulp would work very well in a frozen dessert: sherbet, sorbet, or ice cream. Or just add to cream or as a topping for ice cream - I tried it with the corn ice cream. Wow.

The recipe I decided upon to showcase and celebrate the first paw-paw harvest was a panna cotta. I adapted Giada’s Food Network Panna Cotta recipe. I figured the creamy texture and honey/sugar ingredients balanced out the paw-paw fruit - making it a perfect partner. More pawpaw love.

It was indeed perfect. Light, cool, smooth, with a hint of something tropical. Our guests delighted in the pawpaw treat while I shared the story of this native tree and fruit and its folklore.


So now that I’ve got you yearning for the pawpaw fruit -- my yoga friends were begging where to purchase - the stark reality is it’s just too darn rare to get.

I researched why it’s not available in stores and found confirmation. According to the Georgia Department of Agriculture, “The fruit’s short shelf life – two or three days at room temperature and a little longer in the refrigerator. A commercially viable fresh fruit must hold up longer for shipping and storage. Other reasons ... could be problems with propagation. Pawpaws don’t transplant well from the wild. However, unlike apples and pears, pawpaws grown from seed are similar to their parents. The downside is that the seeds should not dry out, are slow to germinate and require a period of moist chilling before they will sprout. These things could have kept the best forms of pawpaw from spreading beyond their local area in the days before there were nurseries to select, propagate and distribute the best ones.”

Yet, I urge you to forage for them if you’re in the pawpaw’s native growing region -- and that is a pretty wide swath. When ripe, the fruit drops to the ground - so look down -- and pick up these beauties while singing “pickin’ up pawpaws” and puttin’ ‘em in your pocket.”

Or grow your own. Pawpaws are pretty much a maintenance-free plant. No fertilizer needed. No real pruning. Just watch the suckers or rhizomes. The Asimina triloba are either a large shrub growing 15-20' tall and are noted for growing in low bottom woods, wooded slopes; near water. My baby is in the sun but shaded somewhat by that now tall river birch -- but the property is on the bay - so the water table is ideal.   


I’m a complete native plant advocate for reasons that have everything to do with beauty, pollinators, environmental sustainability, and not the least - their contribution to what makes gardens interesting and enduring. Gardens shouldn’t all look alike using the same plants just because they’re propagated more readily on a global scale. Seek out natives and you’ll be surprised at what you discover. Pawpaws have a place “in the garden and in the kitchen.” And they’ve made so many people happier.

Cheers!
Pawpaw flower photo courtesy of Carolina Nature

The PawPaw Fruit Tree is not the Unicorn of the Garden! Discover its Homegrown Taste



PawPaw. Say it again. PawPaw. Isn’t it lyrical (in the true sense)? In fact, the pawpaw is indeed a beloved American folk song, a kind of treasured nursery rhyme, and a full-throated scout song. Sing it with me: “Picking up pawpaws; puttin’ ‘em in your pockets, pickin’ up pawpaws, puttin’ ‘em in a basket. Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.”

Ahhh - it’s all coming back. Bet you thought it was just a fun song - and that it is, no doubt. However, the backstory to the popular ditty is based on solid horticulture.
The Asimina triloba or pawpaw is a true American, by and large eastern native -- and homegrown personalities from George Washington (a chilled pawpaw was his go-to dessert) to Disney Paw, paw, patch have sung its glories. The tree is the largest native North American fruit that boasts a banana-like, mango, honey taste with a custard-like texture. After all, it’s in the same plant family as the custard apple and ylang-ylang.

I planted an asimina triloba - aka: pawpaw about 16 years ago in a Garden State client’s yard in a front garden room, as part of that bed’s native plants composition. It was a good-looking tree right off the bat; big elongated, curvy leaves that appear rather tropical that turn a soft yellow in the fall.

From a design viewpoint, I wanted the Asimina to work with the other plants there, especially in the autumn complementing the birch’s yellow leaves and the callicarpa/Beautyberry's purple berries.


Yet, after the decade-plus euphoria about the tree itself waned, (just a smidge) and I was more horticulturally sophisticated :) -- I so yearned for the fruit. Where oh where was the pawpaw’s dreamed of fruit?

I reached out to Clemson and other land grant universities to determine why we had no fruit. The answer was embarrassingly obvious. We needed a mate! Yet how to determine the sex of your paw-paw was not entirely clear to me; plus with lots of seemingly more pressing deadlines and needs - I just didn’t learn the gender of our baby...

Then, with no matchmaking or OK-Cupid -- there was no denying those purple, royal-looking, double-frocked, cone-shaped flowers dripping from the paw-paw this spring - surely a hopeful sign of good things to come.


See, the paw-paws can spread by runners or suckers -- thereby creating the irrepressible “way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.” Somewhere in that patch tree love took root!

(There is a very scientific reason to explain the rhizomes and their ability to separate as new plants to reproduce.)

So, it was with great excitement that a few week’s ago, that Darin - a very talented horticulturist and Master Gardener I'm privileged to have work with me and Duchess Designs, pointed up to the low hanging pawpaw fruit! I could barely contain my joy.


This was news to share with friends and like-minded food and garden tribes on my social media: @chefsgardens on Twitter and Instagram and @GardenGlamour and on Facebook, too. Folks were pea-green with envy! :)

I couldn’t wait to try the fruit. One was soft already despite it being only August and the fruits generally don’t mature till early autumn around by me. I couldn’t wait.

Back home, I cut the fruit lengthwise - kind of like cutting into an avocado (the pawpaw leaves are not unlike that of the avocado, as well) - and reveled in the satisfaction of at long last seeing this kind of unicorn of the native fruit world.


Slowly, I scooped up the custard like flesh and tasted. It was thick, creamy, truly a mash-up of banana and mango -- perhaps a bit of pineapple or papaya -- as billed, with a bit of a sugary, honey aftertaste.

Altogether, it tasted like “more!”


I tried to stretch out the tasting as long as I could. It was refreshing and at the same time the texture was substantive - if you know what I mean. The pawpaw fruit premiere tasting was everything I’d hoped for - plus.

There was no denying that some of the pleasure was the built-up expectation - that feeling you get when you finally visit a dreamscape or see a work of art completed. Or “eat with your eyes first” when viewing a charming tablescape presentation. It all figures into the sensuality and enhances the overall experience..

I couldn’t wait to share the paw-paw: it’s a rare treat “discovery” and yet native stalwart that helped sustain the Native Americans and pioneers. This is such a great backstory of the known and obscure, the native and yet exotic.

At the same time, there wasn’t too much of the fruit to be had. I gave some to my client, after all. In thinking of recipes I could use to show off this native garden star - my thoughts turned to dessert; prompted by the custard consistency I opted for a pudding. I had just made the corn ice cream the week before or I might have created a paw-paw ice cream treat; I think the pulp would work very well in a frozen dessert: sherbet, sorbet, or ice cream. Or just add to cream or as a topping for ice cream - I tried it with the corn ice cream. Wow.

The recipe I decided upon to showcase and celebrate the first paw-paw harvest was a panna cotta. I adapted Giada’s Food Network Panna Cotta recipe. I figured the creamy texture and honey/sugar ingredients balanced out the paw-paw fruit - making it a perfect partner. More pawpaw love.

It was indeed perfect. Light, cool, smooth, with a hint of something tropical. Our guests delighted in the pawpaw treat while I shared the story of this native tree and fruit and its folklore.


So now that I’ve got you yearning for the pawpaw fruit -- my yoga friends were begging where to purchase - the stark reality is it’s just too darn rare to get.

I researched why it’s not available in stores and found confirmation. According to the Georgia Department of Agriculture, “The fruit’s short shelf life – two or three days at room temperature and a little longer in the refrigerator. A commercially viable fresh fruit must hold up longer for shipping and storage. Other reasons ... could be problems with propagation. Pawpaws don’t transplant well from the wild. However, unlike apples and pears, pawpaws grown from seed are similar to their parents. The downside is that the seeds should not dry out, are slow to germinate and require a period of moist chilling before they will sprout. These things could have kept the best forms of pawpaw from spreading beyond their local area in the days before there were nurseries to select, propagate and distribute the best ones.”

Yet, I urge you to forage for them if you’re in the pawpaw’s native growing region -- and that is a pretty wide swath. When ripe, the fruit drops to the ground - so look down -- and pick up these beauties while singing “pickin’ up pawpaws” and puttin’ ‘em in your pocket.”

Or grow your own. Pawpaws are pretty much a maintenance-free plant. No fertilizer needed. No real pruning. Just watch the suckers or rhizomes. The Asimina triloba are either a large shrub growing 15-20' tall and are noted for growing in low bottom woods, wooded slopes; near water. My baby is in the sun but shaded somewhat by that now tall river birch -- but the property is on the bay - so the water table is ideal.   


I’m a complete native plant advocate for reasons that have everything to do with beauty, pollinators, environmental sustainability, and not the least - their contribution to what makes gardens interesting and enduring. Gardens shouldn’t all look alike using the same plants just because they’re propagated more readily on a global scale. Seek out natives and you’ll be surprised at what you discover. Pawpaws have a place “in the garden and in the kitchen.” And they’ve made so many people happier.

Cheers!
Pawpaw flower photo courtesy of Carolina Nature

Sunday, February 16, 2014

The New York Botanical Garden Winter Lecture Series kicked off with Kirstenbosch: The Most Beautiful Garden in Africa


It was the first of the very popular New York Botanical Garden (NYBG) Winter Garden Lecture Series and there was palpable plant anticipation pulsing by the looks of the arriving audience – many whom I recognized as horticulture and botany staff from area botanical gardens.

They were not there to see special guest Sigourney Weaver. (who looked fabulous, by the way.)

No, these plant people were there for Professor Brian J. Huntley, the internationally respected conservationist with nearly 50 years of “field research and management experience in many African ecosystems, from the sub-Antarctica to the equator.”

His biography is most impressive – and in fact, that is just how Gregory Long, president of The New York Botanical Garden, introduced Huntley, saying “He’s the most prestigious we’ve had here as a speaker.”
Long went on to point out he’d even had some of the Garden’s tropical plants placed on stage to honor Huntley and his native South Africa. 


Huntley was the director of Kirstenbosch http://www.sanbi.org/gardens/kirstenbosch
and other major conservation and sustainability initiatives including the lead on the Savanna Ecosystems Project, institutional development for The National Botanical Institute, the South African Biodiversity Institute and a consultant for the UN on conservation projects.

Plus, Huntley possesses that charming South African accent so I could listen to him read the phone book (Google “phone book" if that is an alien concept!)

To hear Huntley talk about plants with wit and wisdom was a kind of “hort heaven.” 


My only tangible experience with South African plants is to see them in the Conservatories of the New York botanic gardens, most often in the warm temperate houses. Especially at Brooklyn Botanic Garden where I was honored to have worked for many years.  Elizabeth Scholtz, past president and Director Emeritus who not that long ago celebrated 50 years at BBG, is a South African national, born in Pretoria in 1921 and joined the staff of BBG in 1960. 
I have had the distinct privilege to have worked with Betty Scholtz and cherish every moment in her office and mine, soaking up her stories and experience.
At the book signing after the lecture, I asked Huntley why Betty wasn’t present and he said they had indeed invited Ms. Scholtz but due to some health issues and the winter weather, she couldn’t make it.  Our loss…

Kirstenbosch
The plants Huntley showed were extraordinary. More than a few elicited gasps and oohs from the audience.  


And remember, the attendees were plant professionals.  Not a jaded soul in the lot, though.
The drama of the plants’ color, shape and sheer diversity is truly heart-stopping magnificence and unequaled. 


An accomplished speaker – Huntley told me his on a road trip to help raise awareness and funds – and his presentation reflected his sophisticated story telling.

His plant story was about Kirstenbosch – South Africa’s resplendent botanic garden.
It is undoubtedly nature’s story.
But there is also suspense and intrigue and redemption provided by the human element that is key to the South African narrative.


To cover the expansive history of the country and its gardens that celebrated its centenary last year (2013) Huntley told the audience his talk would consist of three Episodes, along with important moments for bio diversity. He would also offer parallels with our North American experience.







Huntley said there are distinct, different stories to tell about each century, starting in the 18th Century. Episode 1: 1771-1815, Episode 2: 1895-1935 and Episode 3: 1990-2014.

I love garden history so I settled in for what promised to be tales of plant adventure, flora bravado, horticultural treasures, botanical exploration -- lubricated by the powerful, influential and inspired naturalists.

The Huntley talk didn’t disappoint.

It all started with the “discovery” of flora Capensis (commonly called Cape Sundew) I have to put the quote qualifiers on because I continue to find it rather arrogant that something was only found when the European white men came upon something ignoring that native peoples had been enjoying the “discovery” for quite some time, thank you very much J

When the Dutch pulled a ship in for water and Huntley says, they ended up in the “hottest, hot-spot” for biodiversity on the continent of Africa. “ The Kogelberg mountain area is stunning – and is ground zero of the Cape Floral Kingdom there.

Floral Kingdom is not some fanciful name bestowed by a real estate-inspired sales opportunist.
I have learned from Professor Huntley’s lavishly documented, illustrated picture book and education tome: Kirstenbosch: the most beautiful garden in Africa xxx that is now autographed by him – that there are in fact, six Floral Kingdoms in the world recognized by botanists.
They are:
1. Boreal in North America, Greenland what looks like Russia / China
2. Palaeotropic in central Africa
3. Neotropic in South America
4. Australasian
5. Antarctic
6. Cape

What is remarkable about the South African Cape Floral Kingdom – separate from the plants, of course, is that every another Floral Kingdom is very big – make that HUGE land mass. 
As in continents or cross-continents.

The significance of Cape in the Floral Kingdom list is that in relative terms, it’s a very small area.
Surely god and Mother Nature blessed this place for a reason, don’t you agree?
By way of comparison, The Cape Floral Kingdom has 16 times the species density of the Boreal Plant Kingdom where we live. 
Plus, more than 68 percent of the Cape’s flora is found nowhere else on the planet. 


In terms of a timeline, Huntley pointed out with a humorous jab of one upmanship, that Leendert Cornelissen, a carpenter and sawyer, formerly of the Dutch East India Company, secured the rights to the land that would become Kirstenbosch: the first botanic garden in South Africa in 1657 – a whopping 72 years before Bartram’s Garden in Philadelphia –the oldest botanic garden in North America that opened in 1728 on the banks of the Schuylkill River. http://www.bartramsgarden.org

(I feel like I must be the only hort fan who didn’t know about Bartram’s Garden. Why is this?  I must visit Bartram’s Garden this garden season.)

It is horticultural humor to learn that the career of Kirstenbosch’s first “curator” and burger councilor ended when he was accused of every day “behaving in a more and more debauched manner, by drinking, celebrating, fighting, brawling, swearing, etc…”

Noted next was Paul Hermann, the first professional botanist to visit the Cape, which he did on his way to Ceylon (Sri Lanka) in 1672.
Hermann’s work ended up on Linnaeus’ desk years later and the father of taxonomy is quoted rhapsodizing how it was that Hermann had seen in a few days more African plants than all the botanists previously had seen anywhere.  “Oh Lord, how many, rare and wonderful were the plants that presented themselves to Hermann’s eyes!” enthused Linnaeus. 

Huntley put it simply: “The Cape is the birthplace of South African botany.”


William Burchell, is celebrated in the history of Kirstenbosch as the most prolific collector in South Africa in the early 19th century—about the same time as Lewis Clark were making their explorations of North America.  Burchell is credited with collecting, more than 63,000 plant, animal and geological specimens to his credit.







South Africa must’ve been some party in those early years.  
Huntley told a story about a collector from Kew, James Bowie charged with securing floral wealth from the Cape for the gardens in England was noted for “getting pleasure and slaking” presumably a bit too often.

Huntley continued with portraits and profiles of other plant adventurers, botanists who contributed to the first Episode of Kirstenbosch.

I didn’t want Episode 1 to end. 
I'm fascinated by this period of horticulture for several reasons: the mix of the foibles of man and their outsized personalities, garden history, the recognition that plants mattered so much: affording great wealth and beauty. And the excitement of the plant adventurers and discovery.

However, Huntley had to move ahead to Episode 2 and the narrative continued.


Episode 2 1895-1935

The story of Kirstenbosch officially gets underway in February, 1911 when Henry Harold Welch Pearson, professor of Botany at the South African College with a passion for cycads, and ultimately the founder of Kirstenbosch, set out with his botanical comrades “to look for a site for a new botanical garden.” Their search took them up the lane that ended at the “avenue of Moreton Bay Figs and Camphor trees planted by Cecil Rhodes in 1898 which he bequeathed to the nation after his death in 1902.
Huntley’s book quotes Pearson exclaiming, “’This is the place.’  The rest is history.”

Huntley pointed out that Pearson could’ve worked anywhere in the world – he was very well respected and knowledgeable, the inference being that South Africa was gifted with a top-tier horticulturist who also was an outsize promoter of what a botanical garden should be, having published a seminal work on the topic in 1910. 

Pearson appointed the Kew-trained Jimmy Mathews as the first Curator of Kirstenbosch. He served the Garden for 23 years, most notably helping to formulate the look of the garden. 

It is written that Pearson and Mathews sensitivity to the concept of Genius Loci or the “spirit of the place” allowed them to let the landscape speak for itself. The “natural sweeps of lawns, wooded glades, flowering beds and mountain vistas” were allowed to dominate the garden’s master plan. 

His team hewed the rock from the site. In a nod to Pearson’s love of cycads, he created the Collection above the Dell with a focal point for the cycads and gymnosperms.
Today, there is a gymnosperm in situ – that is more than 2,000 years old! 















Robert Compton is credited with taking the Kirstenbosch garden from concept to reality.
He served as Director of the National Botanic Garden, Kirstenbosch from 1919 to 1953.
Huntley tiptoed around the garden design issue.
While acknowledging he was speaking to an audience filled with landscape designers, he said Compton advanced the strategy that there would be NO design process at Kirstenbosch. 
He thought the grandeur and diversity of its setting make any sort of improvement seem foolish, according to Huntley.

Indeed. 


Episode 3 1990-2014

This era is focused on Sustainability, Conservations Science and African Connections.

Huntley ‘joked’ that when he was appointed the Director of Kirstenbosch, it was a big year – that he was fortunate to have luck and timing on his side.
There were macro trends he could take advantage of.

As the adage goes, “Fortune favors the prepared.”
So it was for Huntley.
There were strategic opportunities he seized.
And then there was luck…

Huntley was appointed CEO of the National Botanical Institute NBI) in January 1990.
On February 11, 1990 the day Nelson Mandela was freed from prison after 27 years in captivity. 
I have written about Mandela’s love of gardens and how gardening in the Robben Island prison gave him comfort and focus. (And a place to hide his memoir.)  http://gardenglamour-duchessdesigns.blogspot.com/2013/12/nelson-mandela-master-gardener.html


Officially, Mandela visited Kirstenbosch in 1996. He first visited the garden as a student.

Huntley told us a story about how it came about that they named a special plant after the first President of the South African democracy.

Huntley said the Ambassador to Italy called, telling them that the Italians were going to name a plant in Mandela’s honor.  But the native South African plant they were considering was more of a weed.
Huntley laughed recalling that he instructed that the South African Ambassador should tell the Italians that if they named that plant, there would be an international incident!

Alternatively, Huntley and his team set about to quickly identify an appropriate plant.
A staff botanist suggested the bird-of-paradise Strelitzia reginae a South African native plant – that is also a stunning beauty and a fitting tribute to Nelson Mandela. 
It was agreed. 

Renamed ‘Mandela’s Gold’ the plant and botanical illustration was presented to Mandela on a special Garden visit, August 21, 1996.  


‘Mandela’s Gold’ is also the logo of the NBI.

Huntley convened a meeting of his fellow botanists, hosting their first meeting at Kirstenbosch in 1992 to plan a co-op project to build regional capacity in plant taxonomy and herbarium management and became known as SABONET (South African Botanical Diversity Network)
Today, they’ve been able to update their native species checklist to more than 50,000.

In terms of Conservation, Huntley stated they must revisit or return to their history and the pioneering botanists who sought to collect, preserve and respect the plant kingdom.
“Our vegetation is the richest in the world,” he said. “Yet so much of it is being swept out of existence altogether unless provisions are made for their preservation.”

Using ICUN criteria, they have analyzed more than 20,000 indigenous species to learn that 65% are endangered and in the Cape Floral Kingdom, 13% are endangered with more than 26% under threat.

In a curious twist of what might be termed “boomerang horticulture,” the native Erica verticullatae was collected for emperor Franz Josef and remains in cultivation in Vienna and is part of the Gene Book there. In the intervening year, the plant became extinct in South Africa mainly due to the loss of the plant’s natural pollinators.
Now, Erica has come home.  The NBI has gotten seed from Vienna and is propagating the heather again in South Africa. 

Huntley described how Pearson, the founder of Kirstsenbosch, often remarked that he’d see their native plants in the window boxes throughout the capitals of European cities yet back home, no one used or displayed the natives. 
Native South Africans sought out the exotic plants from distant locales. 


While I find this disturbing, I also don’t think it is uncommon. 
It's a sad but true fact that people all too often want what is rare – in many areas of collecting and displaying – from cars to clothes to food to plants. 
Exotics seem to offer excitement in the way a rare gem does.
Plus the owners find the imported plants provide a certain amount of bragging rights.  From the time of early plant explorers to today, one can crow about their rare plants.

The sadder irony is that the native plants may all too soon be the rare “exotic” and even import not just in South Africa but globally. 
Far too many nurseries and big corporate plant breeders are leading us to a mono-culture of far too few choices and selections because they find it efficient and profitable.  Just like in the edibles/food world…

But there is Inspiration and Education.

Huntley noted the Botanic gardens series of books that helps gardeners and plant lovers to better know about their native plants.
One can also visit their website: www.plantzafrica.com
This is the South African National Biodiversity Institute  (SANBI) sponsored hub for plants and vegetation of South Africa.
It’s like a travelogue or a Star Trek/Plant Trek – because the plants shown here, especially the Plants of the Week, are so extraordinary and beautiful and fascinating to learn about.
Caution: One can readily get lost going down the rabbit hole of plant discovery on this site! 

I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the Erica recurvate or Drooping round headed heath – it looks like a clutch of baby hummingbirds.
It is a critically endangered heath…. 


Enjoy the history, the botanical art and the conservation and propagation notes for the wowsy plants here.

The Educational element of the Kirstenbosch recognized they needed to extend their reach to the citizens and not just the traditional middle-class, white, middle age population.
Therefore, in the 1990’s the Garden started a vigorous program to bring school children to visit and to link an environmental, green program to the school’s curriculum.


Huntley shared a charming anecdote about Nelson Mandela’s visit at the Garden to speak to the school children. 
He observed Mandela had written his own talk – in long hand - no speechwriters. This so impressed Huntley, that a man of Mandela’s stature deemed this topic and this place so important and special and that he wrote from his heart…

Mandela captivated his audience with his recollections of his garden in prison at Robben Island and the importance of gardens…
  
Huntley went on to review the research work there which is most impressive – and the financials as it relates to the Garden. 
The take away on this last point is that botanic gardens are cultural beacons – they are places where we can visit and build enduring, lifetime relationships.
They offer insight into the mysterious, exotic, fascinating, inspiring, and beautiful world of plants.
We haven’t scratched the surface of what we can learn from the plant kingdom.

We need plants and we don’t know them.
We are just discovering how plants communicate. 
Just because we don’t yet speak “plant” shouldn’t mean we don’t try to learn of their world and ways.
More on this dynamic soon…

Botanic gardens also provide community, food news, children’s programs, education, cross cultural experiences with other fine arts including the dance, music, and sculpture.

Huntley said Kirstenbosch launched an outdoor concert series that draws thousands of fans to the Garden for an experience close to heaven.


Check your local botanic gardens to discover a rigorous, enchanting schedule of harmonic garden art, fine art, education and community.

Next up in the Winter Garden Lecture Series is Kim Wilkie, landscape architect, who will talk about sculpting landforms and his love of mud!
NYBG hosts Wilkie, Thursday, February 20, 2014 10 am to noon.

www.nybg.org/adulted or call 800-322-nybg (6924)
Each lecture is $31/$35 (Member/Non-member)
Or you can purchase the series.

See you at the Garden.


 
Brian Huntley with me, & he is autographing my copy of Kirstenbosch The Most Beautiful Garden in Africa  

Monday, January 30, 2012

Review of New York Botanical Garden Premiere Lecture in 12th Annual Winter Lecture Series


Larry Weaner
Breaking the Rules:  Ecological Design for the Real World

New York Botanical Garden (NYBG)
A few years ago, NYBG started a new trend as part of its successful winter lecture series.
To borrow a baseball metaphor, they bring in a switch hitter, prior to the featured speaker.  It’s like the audience warm-up to the main show except when it’s not.
In the beginning, audience members just didn’t like the Garden cutting into their time. After all, these are subscription tickets and people want what they paid for.
The brief intros were more like commercial announcements, as in what’s coming up at the Garden/don’t miss this or that exhibit…
Over time, I think the warm ups have yielded more substance, offering more of a coming attraction kind of lucky-strike extra. 
I’m not saying there aren’t some attendees who still text one another during the preview talk wishing it would end, but I do think the quality of the bonus talk has earned a few stars. 
The Garden should own up to the new format though, as part of its truth in advertising, rather than just popping it in or seeming to “sneak” it in.  Especially if they stand behind the commitment and quality of the talk – after all, the Garden possesses world-class plant experts in many fields who can add to the dialectic between science and environmentalism and sustainability and plant science.

Todd Forrest, vice president of Horticulture, Living Collections, NYBG provided the preview.
Todd is an informed, confident professional, who can also communicate complex earth science paradigms and triage the worlds of horticulture, garden art and botany so that the narrative is compelling and sometimes, downright funny.

Fittingly, Forrest talked about the issues of history, preservation, and sustainability surrounding the Garden’s old growth forest. 
This is a man born to his calling.

He impressed upon the audience how the 50-acre hemlock grove is a “changing forest” rather than a preserved, pristine place that is more of an archived attraction. 
NYBG took possession of the forest in 1895 – in the spirit of the Hudson River school and in the context of expansion and a retort to the city’s rapid industrialization.  
The rest of the Garden was, in fact, built around the forest.  

Forrest used nostalgic images, government surveys from more than a hundred years ago, through to today’s Garden and volunteer staff to demonstrate how the forest has been studied and documented.  The baseline was established by the WPA in the Depression to create a statistical picture of the oak, hemlock and cork trees there; 17% was re-mapped about five years ago.

The Garden tracked the history of the forest’s soil composition, its chestnut blight, theft of the native jack-in-the-pulpits, and the exuberant bird watchers who inadvertently contribute to soil compaction when they go off-trail.  
He pointed out the fact that the squirrel population is now off the charts—used to be 2-7 per hectare. Now it’s 45-51!
Then, there are all the invasive species the Garden has to deal with and manage.  Exotic species alone are up 92% since 1984.

Gardeners are hopeful people though.  And true to form, Forrest outlined solutions that have proven effective in managing the forest, including identifying and removing the invasives: knotweed, ranunculus, Japanese honeysuckle, and cork trees, for example. Beat the squirrels to the hickory and oak nuts, and nurture good herbaceous plants like ferns.  This tedious, dedicated work has yielded results and made a difference, according to Forrest.

Forrest soon introduced Larry Weaner with a funny anecdote, before noting what an innovative landscape designer Larry is -- how blown away he is his by Larry’s sophisticated sense of horticultural style and his respect for the processes. http://www.lweanerdesign.com/

Breaking The Rules – Featured Speaker
Larry thanked Todd for laying the foundation for his own talk about ecological design and succession: both natural and man-made.
Plus Larry noted how much of Todd’s presentation was in fact, a primer for his message. And he was right.

Larry launched his presentation showing the once fashionable “Meadow in a Can” marketing ploy, asking for a show of hands of those who tried this garden slight-of-hand. 
His point was that this attempt took advantage of our collective conceit to make a happy, carefree meadow. 
What were we thinking? 
Well, for starters, we were romantic and loved those billowy blossoms swaying in that random, dreamy dance.  What did we know of habitat?
Like a born-again preacher administering to a receptive, converted flock, Larry seemed to give us group absolution, saying, “It was purely cheap seed.” Adding, “Invariably it was going to fail. There was no connection to the real world.”
And just like that, the dream evaporated. Pouf.
Turns out, producing a meadow is just as intense as a making a successful perennial border. 

But this little cautionary tale established the foundation for Larry’s message and brought us to understand how his ability to break the rules made him a leader of ecological horticulture.
And how we can all follow his example to the promised land of less invasives, less lawn, if we can just think about understanding the ecological processes and habitat.
In the handout, he asks, “Why break the rules?” The answer: Because considering ecological science changes everything.

A key element we learned is that of a competitive environment.  Here the idea is matching habitat to conditions that will sustain the plant species. 

Larry urged us to think about plant communities -- where plants associate with their preferred evolutionary buddies.  Think diversity here.  Monocultures cannot sustain themselves.
Instead, stability is found in companion planting.  
Plus, different plants need different pollinators who recognize their native species.









Disturbance is huge he tells us.  There is disturbance to avoid and disturbance to apply. Who knew?
Disturbance occurs naturally or by man and it highlights the life chapters of a plant.  
For example, if a tree falls in the woods there opens up more light there so that the cardinalis plant, for example, that has been “slumbering” will now germinate and grow where heretofore it had been kept like a Sleeping Beauty, awaiting its prince charming.   
Plants adapt.  
Using a Mike Tyson analogy to describe a fair fight he urged us to prepare for the planting conditions we face.  Gardeners tend to be too hopeful at times…
Within plant communities, change is a desired aesthetic. Work with it. He recommends four plants per square foot will be overgrown except for natives where this metric will inhibit weeds.

Natural succession is management vs. maintenance to allow for change.  We don’t want death. Gardeners are about beauty and life. But Larry reminds us that plants do die.  Plan for it.   
Also plan for plant compositions that change over time such as rudbeckia – or Black-Eyed Susan - that is a bi-annual.  It’s a process of succession of layers and tie in seed mix waiting to unfold. Plants grow at different rates, even in those meadows.  

Traditional Practices might be advantageous.  Choose plants that match plants to habitat and community when designing a garden.  The competitive level is big so be mindful when selecting cultivars.    Larry used a coreopsis as an example.  A recent coreopsis introduction is rosea pink that is not a native species – it’s a wetland plant and would not do well in a traditional dry planting bed we are accustomed to for a coreopsis.  

He also showed examples where no irrigation was needed when the soil Ph is correct; no staking needed for plants that were densely planted or vertically layered.  

Design a garden by editing during the management phase.
When planting think about these priorities:
Soil preparation,
No tilling – avoid disturbing the layers
Imported topsoil vs. native soil
Be mindful of the soil amendments and organic material

Alter planting times.  Allow time between distribution of seed and pollination, waiting for weeds to germinate. During that time, he advises, the plant will have exhausted the weeds.
He also preached the common sense wisdom to select the season best for the plants over the weeds.  This methodology will also decrease watering needs.  Larry used the example of planting Mediterranean plants that require little water that were planted in late June/July thereby recreating or mimicking their native habitat and better insuring a healthy start.  This is in contrast to conventional wisdom, which is to plant in the spring – or autumn – and give the plants lots of water.  Something to think about…  

Research your regional Ecotypes and plan accordingly.






And look to what he terms Restoration Nurseries.  Most every other type of nursery has a single goal:  get the plant material out the door. Too often the plants don’t have a strong root system.  They promote leaves at the top of the plant.  But those scrawny, spindly plants are in fact, destined to be healthier in the long run, he told us.

Larry employs a curious way to tamp out weeds:  Timed mowing.  
Mowing seasonally cuts off invasives, forms dense cover and weeds fade out, Larry says.  It takes about five years to see results for this more human landscape.  “It’s sophisticated but not difficult to do,” he adds.  He showed how he did this with his own birch line with native spirea manipulating the tree-shrub composition and Migrating the Mow Line so that he can modify the sinewy path out to where he would prefer it – closer to a meadow.


He recommends cutting perennials in the spring not the fall.
Don’t use raw wood chips because they will alter late stage succession plants.  Pea gravel often allows birdseed “deposits.”  Instead, replace traditional mulches with highly competitive ground layer vegetation.   

It was a lot of information – all terrific and in many ways it was learning to break some long held rules or assumptions.  Larry Weaner needs to produce a book about his out of the garden bed theories and evolved landscape design practices.  He says his goal is native plant dominance in the seed bank. 
Hip, hip, hooray!  I, for one, plan to be a loyal follower and card-carrying member of the Larry Weaner Ecological Design fan club.  





Larry concluded his talk with a beautiful piece of music that he said inspired him and that he hoped would help convey the experience of being in the landscapes.   
It was a “Partnership of Nature.”  As a Hayden string quartet played, and breathtaking images lit up the screen, it was a few moments that underscored his sense of awe with nature. I cried…




Next up is Doug Tallamy, Thursday, February 16, 2012 at 10:00 am to discuss the use of native plants and the importance of insects in the garden, local food web and ecosystems. For more information and to register: