The Tale of the Fox and the Squirrel

I hate the look of chainlink fencing, but I'm hesitant to do anything about screening off my view of the chainlink fence that borders the east side of the garden. It's not my fence, although I could put bamboo fencing in front of it. I haven't because then I wouldn't be able to see the wildlife on the other side, such as the Great Blue Herons and Great Egrets, and this morning's drama of the fox.

I love the fox. When I started this blog during the summer of 2007, the rabbits were squeezing into the back garden to feast, and I found myself chasing after them with a shovel in a bizarro version of Mr. McGregor chasing after Peter Rabbit. Since the Squirrelhaven version of Mr. Tod moved in the following year, I've had no rabbit problems. We didn't see our fox until last summer, when I caught a quick glimpse out front. Then VIS saw it one evening. A week ago, the girl and I got our first good look at the fox trotting across the frozen pond out back. (The fox has since been christened Vulpes, in honor of a book she just wrote a report on, Vulpes, the Red Fox, by Jean Craighead George.)

This morning, I opened the curtains to find Vulpes lounging on the bank of the pond under a Weeping Willow, scratching and basking in the sun.

Vulpes sat there so long I was able to take a few photos through the window. (I was sorely missing my old SLR film camera with its super-mega zoom lens. If I had batteries for it, I would have taken photos with it.)

I finally figured out what Vulpes was up to, when I noticed the gray squirrel Cherry sneaking down the side of the willow. Clearly, Vulpes had treed Cherry and was waiting for it to make a break for it. Although Vulpes was looking the other way, Cherry didn't get two steps from the tree before Vulpes sprang up and lunged for the squirrel.

To Vulpes' dismay, the squirrel made it back safely to the tree.

I felt so bad for the fox when Cherry finally figured out how to get from the Weeping Willow to the Boxelder and then safely to the ground on the Squirrelhaven side of the fence. Vulpes gazed at it sadly for a little while,

then gave it up as a lost cause.

Having to look at an ugly fence is a small price to pay for the privilege of watching such a beautiful wild creature. What wildlife have you seen from your house?

* * *

Please join me in the Great Houseplant Census, on Tuesday. I really want to know how many houseplants you have.

Frigid Friday: After the Thaw

For Christopher of Outside Clyde, my Snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii) as of yesterday

While I enjoyed wearing only one pair of socks and forsaking long underwear for a few days, last week's thaw has got me very worried. The garden wasn't slumbering blissfully under all that snow. The meltage revealed plants actively growing,

Aquilegia vulgaris

sending up shoots,

Helleborus x hybridus

sprouting buds,

Helleborus 'Walhelivor' (Ivory Prince)

and even, in the case of this Caryopteris, putting on new growth.

This is not a good thing, as this photo taken yesterday demonstrates.
I fear for this plant, as its new growth is now exposed to bitter sub-freezing temperatures. The low this morning was -1F/-18C. There's nothing I can do for this plant now, as shrubs are much more at the mercy of the weather than perennials. I had heavily mulched the crown of it with shredded leaves back in November. Now I just have to cross my fingers.

The melted snow uncovered many plants for the first time since the beginning of December. The snows came before the ground froze, so I was unable to put down winter mulch. The plants were safe under two feet of snow, but after the thaw, in addition to tender new growth freezing, there's the danger of frost heaving. Now the winter mulch needs to be put down to keep the ground frozen. The best sort of winter mulch is the old boughs of the Christmas tree. Because of allergy problems, we have an artificial tree, so I was able to gather only a tub trug full of them from the neighbors' trees left at the curb.
I stored them in the garage for a couple of weeks, waiting for the inevitable thaw. The lucky recipients of the branches are a group of Heuchera, which are particularly vulnerable to frost heaving.
All better now, though less attractive than the exposed plants, but sacrifices must be made.

These Campanulas (C. garganica 'Dickson's Gold' and C. persicifolia 'Blue Eyed Blonde') have to make due with more shredded leaves for mulch.
I took this photo before I dumped copious amounts of leaves around them, making sure not to cover the crowns of the plants. An additional inch of snow has also helped to protect them.

Here's a shot from the patio last week showing the meltage before this latest snow.
Even more of that melted in the rain, which then turned to snow. Had the sun been shining, I'm certain that my Snowdrops (Galanthus elwesii) would have been blooming.

Soon, I hope, the weather will cooperate, and the petals will open wide, to release the sweet honey scent. Spring can't be that far off.

GGW Photo Contest - 6th Time's the Silver Charm

A great big thank you to the folks at Gardening Gone Wild, and a special thanks to the guest judge for January, Alan Detrick, for choosing my Frigid Friday photo for a silver medal. I'm thrilled and honored, especially considering the numerous terrific entries. I also want to congratulate all the winners, especially gold medal winner Diana of Diana Lee Photography.

I encourage everyone to enter next month. You don't need a fancy SLR camera, mine is a point and shoot, nor do you need Photoshop (Picasa can do a lot). All you need is to open your eyes to see the garden and all its possibilities.

Hello, There's a Difference Between a Garden and a Landscape

checked out from my local library

So I'm reading this big, new book "Great Gardens of America" by Tim Richardson, and I'm really enjoying it. Large, glorious photos of gardens in bloom are a great antidote to the winter blues. In tracing the history of styles in American gardens, it includes some old favorites, such as Filoli and Dumbarton Oaks, and new treats such as Dan Hinkley's new garden Windcliff. Then I came across the profile for "Hither Lane, East Hampton, New York." The images depict a modernistic house and naturalistic landscaped grounds, but it does not show a single "garden." A swimming pool, no matter how cleverly designed, is not a garden. It can be part of one, but that implies the pool is part of a larger whole of flowers and plants, not a pool surrounded by lawn and a single urn of flowers. When VIS saw the photos of it he said, "that's lawn," and "that looks like more lawn." The girl stated emphatically that it wasn't a garden, but she wanted to swim in the pool. I wouldn't pay to go see it on a garden tour. It's a mystery why it was included in the book, as it doesn't fall within my idea of "great" or "garden." It's not avant garde or outre, unlike a couple of other gardens in the book, temporary installations at Metis Garden Festival, one of which has a triangle of green glass around a few birches in a woodland setting and a second one, "Safe Zone," a "satirical take on health and safety rules, with a rubberized surface and crash pads around trees." I would definitely pay to see them.

My definition of a "garden" is pretty broad, as the above mentioned features show. I can even accept the stark modernism of Cornerstone Place's garden (also featured in the book) with coiled balls of rope, silver birch trunks, gravel and blue and white walls. But it requires more than just a wide sweep of lawn with a swimming pool and a line of metal rods as a fence or a large urn plopped down in the middle of a lawn. Am I being too harsh? Maybe there were more gardenesque scenes that could have been included but weren't, but I doubt it. It could be that this particular property was included because the author wanted to feature an example of mid-20th Century minimalist garden design (and couldn't find one in America). (Either that, or there's a nepotistic connection with the landscape's designers.) The author concludes the discussion of this estate by describing it as "a pocket 'picturesque' landscape park." A landscape park it may be; a garden it ain't (much less a great one).

Or am I wrong? Do you think there is a difference between a garden and a landscape? How do you define a "garden"? And what makes a garden "great"?

(edit. 1/26/10 Thanks to Gail for finding the link.)

Squirrel Appreciation Day?

According to the National Wildlife Federation, today is Squirrel Appreciation Day. Do these squirrels look like they need appreciating? To me, the Squirrelhaven squirrels look awfully fat and healthy.


They should be appreciating me.







The only reasons this one isn't stuffing its face is because I was standing next to the frozen pumpkins taking a photo of my Daphne, and it was barking at me to get me to leave. They don't know how good they've got it. Do you appreciate your squirrels? Or is the idea of Squirrel Appreciation Day just plain nuts?

From the DAISNAID* file: Garden Ornaments in Winter

It's not the freeze that worries me, its the thaw and then the freeze that always does the damage. You'd think by now I would know enough to pay attention to the label on garden ornaments when it advises that the item needs protection from freezing temperatures. Yes, terracotta will be damaged if left outside over the winter.

after subzero lows and highs in the single digits Farenheit, a high of 41F/5C, then highs in the 20sF/ -3ishC

This is the ball I bought this summer at the Smith & Hawken going out of business sale. The worst part is that it was frozen to the ground and I couldn't bring it into the garage until this morning, after the damage was done. Looks like I'll be learning how to make cement castings this spring.

*Do As I Say, Not As I Do

January Bloom Day - Stages of an Amaryllis

Carol at May Dreams Gardens, had the nifty idea of everyone showing off what they have in bloom in their garden on the 15th of every month, Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day. She's not a stickler for the rules, so indoor blooms (or anything floral) can be the subject of a post. Unlike last year, where I had to go purchase a plant to have some blooms, this year, inspired by Cindy of From My Corner of Katy, I have a Butterfly-type Amaryllis (I misplaced the tag). I prefer its smaller flowers and more graceful shape to that of the standard Amaryllis. My Amaryllis started blooming a couple days ago. I've been fascinated by how quickly it blooms and the changes it has undergone.








I'm so glad I decided to try an Amaryllis again. Happy Bloom Day!

On Design: the Plant Collector's Lament

Scabiousa 'Beaujolais Bonnets'

I've been thinking about garden design a lot lately. One of the secrets to a cohesive design is to repeat plants or elements. I have trouble with repetition. I just don't seem to be able to restrain myself to use the same plant all over the garden, when there are so many fantastic plants out there that I could be growing.

Then there is the current advice to plant in large sweeps of a single plant. Here at Squirrelhaven, we call that the lawn. The only sweeping I do is with a broom. The thing is, the large sweep looks terrific during its season of interest, but what happens when it's out of bloom? Usually, it's a big blob of yawn. (Plus there's that monoculture concern.) I can see how a large sweep of some sort of ornamental grass could work if it were interplanted with spring-flowering bulbs. But even then, grass, grass & grass just doesn't attract the pollinators like blooms, blooms & more blooms. Mixing it up means I always have something interesting going on, even if it's not a wide sweep of it. Gertrude Jekyll may have advocated large drifts of a single plant, but she also had borders that were just for spring interest, and others that were for fall interest. I don't have that much land, and all of it is fairly visible from the house. It's got to look interesting all the time.

Here is the Hellebore bed from March through October.

above left, just after clearing the old foliage, above right, April

These two above are reversed in order. On the left is June, on the right is May.

from left: midsummer, September, October

Would I be happier if I had a more limited palette of plants? And which ones should I cut out? There's only one Actaea simplex 'James Compton' in there, but I'd hate to be without it because of its wonderful scent.

But instead of only one, there should be at least three of them. I tried that in another part of the garden, but only one bloomed, and then dwindled, while the other two have never bloomed. This is the place where I have got a thriving plant that has bloomed for several years now. But clearly, there isn't room for three of them there, unless I remove something else. I feel like Mozart, being told there are too many notes.

I garden in reality, a plot of earth that has too many thirsty tree roots, on a slope that drains too quickly. In the shade, these are very challenging conditions. The intensity and quality of the light varies greatly within just a small area. I can't just draw a design that looks great on paper, it has to function in my garden, with plants that don't always behave as expected. Designers would probably advise me to stop fighting the conditions and simply mass pots, or put in hardscaping. Never! (Where would I store all these containers over the winter, or am I to be limited to plants hardy in Zone 3*?) I think I've found a solution I can live with, which I will describe in a later post.

*To survive, perennials in containers that will remain outside all winter, must be hardy to at least two Zones colder than the Zone of the garden.

The Zen of Snow Shoveling

In Advance of the Aching Arm (with apologies to Marcel Duchamp)

People ask me how I stay in shape all winter, when I don't belong to a gym, yet I live in such a cold and snow-covered place. My secret for avoiding the Jan Ullrich syndrome is a cheap form of exercise, snow shoveling. Despite my complaints in previous years, I actually rather like it. In addition to a good aerobic and strength training workout, shoveling frees my mind to wander. Like Carol (of May Dreams Gardens) when she mows, I get ideas for posts while shoveling.

The first thing about shoveling is having the proper shovel, the importance of which Christopher of Outside Clyde recently learned. I like a shovel with a sliding soft grip on the shaft of the handle,

but I need a clean, sharp edge on the head. The second important part of shoveling is dressing for it. It is a workout, so workout clothes are essential. The first layer should be something that wicks away moisture, such as Coolmax® type fabrics. I have long-sleeved exercise tops I wear with a fleece sweatshirt over that. When it's very cold, I wear yoga pants underneath jeans. Two pairs of socks help keep the feet warm. Mittens keep hands warmer than gloves. Then top it with a coat and a hat or earmuffs.

Before heading outside, I drink some water and stretch a bit. Authorities argue whether it is better to stretch before working out, or warming up first and then stretching. Because I don't want to go in and out too much, I just do the stretch first. I always wear a watch, because it is easy to shovel too long once I get in the zone. I try to come in after 30 minutes, or 15 minutes in the bitter cold (below 20F/-7C).

I try to shovel before driving on the snow-covered driveway, as it is best not to do so or to walk on the snow. Instead, I shovel a space to walk, so as not to compact the snow. There are those (VIS for instance) who believe that is unnecessary, and that people who try to clean the surface completely are merely suffering from some form of obsessive-compulsive disorder. They are mistaken. There's nothing pathological about wanting to avoid having ice patches on one's drive or walkway. I can't imagine trying to shovel a gravel driveway, as the Purdys at Cold Climate Gardening have to do. Concrete, asphalt, or permeable pavers are much easier to shovel.

There is also debate about whether to shovel as it snows, or wait until it stops. I believe in doing it as it snows so that there is less to shovel at one time. When that's not possible, it is best to slice off a layer of the snow, then come back and get the rest.

This is particularly important when the snow is wet and heavy, what we in Chicagoland call "heart-attack snow." It is advised that snow be pushed rather than thrown, but let's face it, sometimes you just have to throw. The key is to use the legs to lift and never to throw and twist at the same time.

When shoveling the driveway, I like to start in the middle and shovel snow to either side. This is not always possible if there is a strong wind, in which case one should shovel with the wind. Otherwise, it's like sticking your face in a snowcone maker. The wind will also quickly return what you have shoveled back onto the shoveled surface. If there are gardens or plants lining the walk or driveway, it is best to try to evenly distribute the snow on them, or, if possible, put the snow somewhere else. I try not to pile snow on the front garden, but the beds lining the driveway tend to get buried.

Some people advise applying non-stick cooking spray or WD40 to the shovel head before shoveling, to keep the snow from sticking. I have done that, and it helps a bit, but, ultimately, the snow will stick to the shovel.

Scraping it out works, but I prefer the boot method.

I lift the shovel slightly and give it a bit of a kick. Most of the snow then flies off. I can't recommend this method, as there is the possibility of injury, unless you have steel-toed boots.

Finally, once the driveway and walk are cleared, I apply a plant and pet friendly ice melting product to any ice patches.

I can't help it if I feel a bit smug surveying my clean surfaces when the neighbors' driveways are still a snowy mess. It's so peaceful and serene to move snow methodically and completely in a quiet world dampened down with the beauty of snow.

Help For Those Unused To Snow

Snow is a wonderful thing, as least it is if you don't have to drive in it. It transforms the drab and ordinary into the bright and extraordinary. It also insulates plants from the worst of the bitter cold. But there's snow, and then there's snow, specifically the heavy, wet kind (heart-attack snow) which, while great for making snowmen, can damage evergreens with its heavy weight.

If the snow is light and fluffy, I leave it on the plants as a pretty frosting. If it's heavy and weighing the branches down, it could cause permanent damage in the form of bent or broken branches. Removing the snow properly is very important, as the act of removal can cause even more damage than the snow.

First, the snow needs to be removed before it freezes and hardens onto the plant. (If your plants become encased in ice, don't try to remove it. Just wait for it to melt.)

Try dislodging the snow by gently shaking the branch. If that doesn't work, gently brush off the snow with a broom. Sometimes the lower branches get stuck to the ground under the snow. They can be brushed off and gently lifted. The key word here is gently.

before

Cold temperatures can cause branches to become brittle, and it's easy to want to rush through the job to get back inside to a nice hot cup of cocoa. Resist the urge. Taking the time to do it right will make you and your plants happier in the long run.

after

I hope that helps. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them. (I mean about snow in the garden, snow shoveling, or even driving in snow, not questions about the names of the different types of snowflakes, or the amount of annual snowfall Greenland usually receives or anything like that.)

See You at BuffaFling*!

I'm so excited about Buffa10, the garden bloggers' get together for this year. If you didn't make it to Austin or Chicago, please come to Buffalo, New York, July 8-11. (If you went to either of those, I'm preaching to the choir.)

It's going to be great to visit, in person, some of those fabulous Buffalo Garden Walk gardens we've heard so much about. While visiting botanic gardens and public spaces is nice, there's something special about visiting a person's home garden, which is infused with the personality of the gardener. I can't wait to see the garden of Elizabeth Licata who is organizing this shindig with Jim of Art of Gardening. But even better than seeing gorgeous gardens is getting to meet and hang out with some of the nicest, most fun people you've always wanted to meet, garden bloggers. Don't worry that you don't know anyone, you will feel at home right away. Read this account of my experience of going to a city I'd never visited to an event with people I'd never met. I hope to see you there.

*I'm calling it BuffaFling because I can't call it Spring Fling, as it's being held in the middle of summer.

Product Review: Solar Christmas Lights

I've long thought how great it would be to have solar-powered Christmas lights, so I could light my trees and shrubs without extension cords. Solar-powered lights also eliminate the need for timers, as they turn on at dusk and go off when they run out of power or at dawn, whichever comes first. They also don't cost anything to run and rely on sustainable power. I held off on trying them because the cost was prohibitive. Until now.

Around the end of November, I found Phillips solar-powered lights for a reasonable price at the store, so I bought several sets, which was all there was left on the shelf. They were easy to install once I figured out where the ground stake was. After pushing the stake into the ground, the solar collector is then slid onto the stake. Each string does not have that many lights, so it took four strands to light the tree pictured above.

All the solar collectors must face south and be charged for at least 8 hours before being turned on for the first time. I also put a set on my baby Abies koreana and one on a recently planted Cotinus.

The lights worked perfectly when the ground was bare, even on cloudy days. They even worked after a snow.

The light didn't last all night, but on sunny days they were on past midnight, which is late enough for my purposes. But then things started to go amiss. First, one string on the tree stopped working. Then it snowed some more. And even more after that. Eventually, this is what happened.

Solar collectors can't efficiently collect solar energy if they are buried under the snow. I brushed them off a few times, but it snowed so much, and then it got so cold, I just left them buried, and the lights did not go on. Now that the snow has shrunk back from the collectors, the three functioning strings on the tree and the lights on the shrubs are working again.

Here are my conclusions from my completely unscientific one-month test: solar Christmas lights are best for climates with less snow than the Chicago area gets. They probably are not well suited to more northerly latitudes regardless of snow because they need 8 hours of daylight to charge, and around the Winter Solstice, there are many places that don't receive that much light. I'd prefer more lights on each string, as having a collection of mini solar panels looks kind of odd. I suppose if there were an evergreen groundcover around them, that would help camouflage them. Would I buy solar-powered Christmas lights again? Yes, definitely, as I did end up buying one more set on sale after Christmas. They may not work perfectly, but they work just well enough.