Author: Henry Homeyer

How to start wildflowers from seed

I recently visited the Nasami Farm in Whately, Mass. This is the plant production facility for the Native Plants Trust, formerly the New England Wildflower Society. I met with Alexis Doshas, their nursery manager. The 75–acre farm produces perennials, grasses and some woody plants — mainly from seed. The plants are sold at their headquarters in Framingham, Mass., and at the Nasami Farm on weekends.

If you’re interested in growing wildflowers, the least expensive way to get plenty is to start them from seed. This takes some effort, but it accomplishes a number of things: if you collect seed from the wild, you’re getting plants in your garden without diminishing the wild population — the way you would if you dug plants (which is prohibited anyway in most places).

Starting plants from seed also encourages genetic diversity. Many purchased plants are propagated from cuttings or by division, which means they’re all clones with the exact same genes. Seeds from any given plant produce seedlings with a wide range of characteristics, making some less susceptible to environmental challenges such as global warming.

Starting wildflowers from seed can take patience. While some seeds will germinate and grow the same summer you collect them (campanulas, for example), other things like lilies might take four or five years to bloom. Many require a cold period of three months, which is called cold stratification. Some planted now will grow underground next spring, but not send up any green growth until the following spring.

The Nasami Farm grows seedlings in big plastic hoop houses. These aren’t heated except in spring, or if temperatures go below zero in winter. The greenhouses allow the seedlings to be monitored and tended easily on long tables. You could set up a table in your barn, shed or garage for a few flats of seedlings. Some wildflowers do fine in flats with good drainage in the outdoors — preferably in a shady place that won’t see too much of the hot, drying sun.

Lastly, you can plant seeds directly in the ground in a site where they’ll thrive as mature plants. The disadvantage to this is you never know what percentage of seeds will germinate. If you plant 100 seeds in a flat indoors it’ll be easier to thin or transplant the seedlings than if you must do so on your hands and knees. And there shouldn’t be weed competition if you’re using a germination mix in a flat. On the other hand, I plant things like goldenseal directly in the ground as it takes two years to sprout, and I don’t want to have to water and tend them so long.

Alexis Doshas gave me some tips for starting wildflowers from seed. First, she said, collect seed when it’s easy to pull off the plant, and remove any fluffy stuff attached to it. Generally seeds start light colored, and darken when fully ripe. If you want to store seed, make sure it doesn’t dry out. Store in a cool, dark place.

Buy a very fine seed germination mix, something made of finely ground peat and perlite. A coarse mix can let seeds wash down deeper than they should be. For small seeds (the size of a grain of sand or less) just sow seeds, pat them into the soil mix and water them in. No need to cover them. Alexis suggests germinating seeds at 60 to 80 degrees, but cautioned that many wildflowers need a 90-day cold period before they’ll grow.

Alexis said you may need to provide rodent protection: metal hardware cloth over the flats to keep mice from eating the seeds. Rodents can be a problem as easily in your cold basement as in a barn or outdoors.

I asked Alexis to recommend some plants that are easy to start from seed right now. She suggested blueberries, huckleberries and plums for fruits. Of the flowers, she listed these: milkweed, mountain mint, black-eyed susans, wild bee balm, wild iris, asters, Joe Pye weed and all the goldenrods, which are great for pollinators.

Woodland wildflowers, she said, often have very specific needs and aren’t as easy to grow as the field flowers mentioned above. Soil pH and type are important. When I plant spring wildflowers I try to mimic the forest type of their native habitat: if they grow in a maple-beech-ash forest in the wild, I try to plant them in a similar environment.

Plants with large, fleshy fruits such as jack-in-the pulpit or goldenseal probably will require you to remove the fruit portion before planting. Gloves are suggested, as some have strong chemicals that may irritate your skin. You can soak seeds like that to allow fermentation to remove the skin and flesh.

A good reference text for starting wildflower seeds is by William Cullina, Growing and Propagating Wildflowers of the United States and Canada. Unfortunately, it’s out of print, though I’ve heard it’s in the process of being reprinted. It’s worth its weight in gold as it gives specifics for hundreds of wildflowers.

Featured photo: Goldenseal fruits are ready for picking in my woods right now. Courtesy photo.

Delightful surprises at public garden

I recently visited Bedrock Garden in Lee and came away feeling refreshed and enlightened. This 37-acre public garden was created on the premises of a 1700s farm that was purchased in 1980 by artist and garden designer Jill Nooney and her husband, Bob Munger.

Jill Nooney is a talented designer, who has won many awards at the Boston Flower Show. She is a welder who uses her skills to create metal sculptures from small to mammoth, as well as working with other media. Bob is a natural builder and fix-it guy who has enabled Jill to install her art in the landscape, along with water features, walls, paths and much more. They are a couple who really bring out the best in each other.

When I toured the gardens I was lucky to have Jill as one of my guides. Also touring the gardens with me was John Forti, Executive Director and Horticulturist of the nonprofit that manages the gardens. We spent nearly three hours together looking at the gardens and I learned about many plants I had never seen before.

Bedrock Garden is full of surprises that delight, enlighten and inspire visitors. I came away wishing I had a bigger garden space for my own efforts, and with an appreciation for how much Jill and Bob have packed into their gardens.

For years Bedrock Garden was open a few weekends each summer, but five years ago Jill and Bob decided that since they were approaching what some call “retirement age” they needed to look seriously at the future of the gardens. They created a nonprofit, hired John Forti as the director, and figured out how to separate the public and private spaces.

During the pandemic they created a parking lot and visitors center that are accessed away from their home, the old farm house they have lived in for over 40 years. They have created a space that is family-friendly that delights children as much as their parents.

Near the parking lot is a gnome house kids can enter made from a huge hollow sycamore log that Jill capped with a steel roof reminiscent of a mushroom cap. She saw the wonderful hollow log alongside the road and hit her brakes immediately to ask for it. Luckily, she was the first to ask, and got it. (Five others stopped and asked for it that day, she told me, but she was the first).

I consider myself well-exposed to the palette of plants available to gardeners in New Hampshire. Bedrock Garden is in Zone 5b, meaning that most years it does not get colder than minus 25 degrees. But Jill has installed and grown many plants that I have never seen before, including many woody plants normally found in Japan or China.

Jill Nooney has used plants in ways that surprised me. For example, she used Bulls Blood heritage beets in a flower bed for their deep purple leaves. An annual effort, but very striking. When a hollow tree was cut down, she had Bob cut it in two-foot sections and stack the sections between two trees so viewers walking by could see through it like binoculars. One can see where branches had been swallowed by its growth. They call it “Log Jam.”

Jill has used decorative grasses well throughout the garden. Fountain grass is a genus of grass that gets to be more than 6 feet tall and very bushy in full sun, where she grows it in an “allee” arrangement that is gorgeous. But she also uses it in shade. “It’s wispy in the shade,” she said. “I like that.”

Metal sculpture is a key element throughout the garden. Early in our tour I admired a space made by forming ¾-inch steel rebar into a series of 11 arches 13 feet tall and spaced 7 feet apart. “I’m using the sky,” she said. She consciously mimicked the lines of a Gothic cathedral, bending each steel frame to a gracefully pointed Gothic arch. And she is growing European fastigiate beeches to clothe the metal frame as part of the installation: one on each side of the archways and tied to the steel. They will eventually reach the sky, the apex of the arch.

Also in the garden are two iron “Chiwaras” modeled after antelope masks made by the Bambara people of Mali. Many years ago I had told Jill the legend of the antelope in Mali, where I had worked with the Peace Corps. The Bambara people credit the antelope for teaching them to plant millet, their primary grain. The antelope pawed the ground, and dropped a little manure into the soil containing seeds. So they honored the antelope with their stylized masks, which Jill captured beautifully.

So plan a visit to Bedrock Garden if you can. There is a guided tour each day, and two on weekend days. Or just wander around and study the design elements. See how Jill has used plants that awe and inspire, and how she has added whimsy and art that delights and amuses. This is a garden worth visiting even if you don’t have a big space or the energy to develop it the way Jill and Bob have. Bring a lunch and plan on spending the day. You’ll be glad you did. And if you have children in your life, think about attending the Fairy Hobbit House Festival Oct. 9 to Oct. 11. Learn more at bedrockgardens.org.

Featured photo: Gardens and sculpture go well together. Courtesy photo.

On becoming a plant collector

I’ve always been a gardener — or at least as far back as I can remember. More recently, say the last 20 years or so, I’ve been a plant collector. What does that mean? If I fall in love with a plant, I want to grow other plants related to it.

One of the most obsessive collectors I ever met was the late Bill Countryman of Northfield, Vermont. When I interviewed him in the late ’90s he told me that his sister sent him a peony, and although he was in his 70s at the time and not a gardener, he planted it. It bloomed magnificently and Bill fell in love with peonies. He decided to grow every type there is.

Bill Countryman bought a chain saw so he could clear his land to plant peonies. He bought a bulldozer to remove the stumps and went to work. When I met him, he had already planted some 300 kinds of peonies, though he continued on, getting more varieties, perhaps as many as 600. He sold them, but mostly he just enjoyed them. He was quite the collector.

I’m not nearly so obsessive. What do I collect? Well, peonies, I suppose. But Cindy and I have only 44 peonies. Primroses. Burnets. Persicarias. Wildflowers. Willows. I have dozens of colors of daylilies, but don’t consider myself a collector of them — they are just nice, reliable plants, but I don’t need one of every kind. Thank goodness for that; there are many hundred.

The burnets are quite a diverse group in the scientific group or genus sanguisorba. First I got the one native to New England, sanguisorba canadensis. It loves wetlands, so I planted it in a weedy, marshy place in part sun/part shade. It thrived, sending flower spikes with bottlebrush flowers 6 feet tall or more. It blooms in late summer or fall, and can still be pretty in late October.

My absolute favorite of these flowers is one called sanguisorba hakusenensis — lilac squirrel. I saw it online and asked all my local garden centers to no avail, so I finally ordered it from Digging Dog Nursery in California. I planted five small plants last year; they wintered over and are blooming now. The flowers are like pink squirrel tails hanging down from 18-inch flower stems. They make me smile, especially with a name like that.

The littlest of the burnets I grow is one called S. officinalis or Little Angel. It makes a tidy clump of diminutive green leaves edged in white. Each leaf is just half an inch long. The deep red catkin-like flowers are on 6-inch stems that lean or fall over. Now, five years since I bought it, the clump is about a foot across and just 3 inches tall.

Little Angel’s bigger cousin in the same genus is one called Tanna. This is called a miniature, but that is only relative to some of the bigger ones that get 4 to 6 feet tall. It has very tidy 18-inch leaf stems, each with 13 to 17 leaflets in dark green. It makes a tidy mound and has the same dark-red smallish flowers.

Of the large ones that are garden-worthy, I have two: probably S. obtusa and S. tenuifolia. The literature, even online, is sketchy about identifying these plants and I lost the plant tags long ago. The first, which has reddish-pink tidy small catkin-like flowers, needs to be tied up early in July. If not tied up, the flower stems, which get to be over 4 feet long and have 20 or so blossoms per stem, flop over. The other is standing tall and proud right now, but the flowers have not yet opened — and I haven’t staked them.

Why do I collect burnets? I just like them. They can be picked for flower arrangements, but I rarely do. I like seeing them in the garden.

Willows, of course, are more of a problem to collect because of their size, but I do grow at least half a dozen. My favorite is the hakuro nishiki. It has variegated foliage early in the summer: green and white, and then with pink mixed in for a few weeks. It is colorful and fast growing. Like all willows, it appreciates moist soils but will grow in ordinary garden soil.

Hakuro nishiki is not a large willow. It seems to top out at about 20 feet in 10 years. I planted three some 20 years ago, 10 feet apart, and they created a dense grove. I was able to prune out branches growing into the center, creating a small room where I placed Adirondack chairs. It makes a cool space near my brook to eat lunch on a hot day.

The rosemary willow is another favorite of mine. It is a small willow, only getting to be about 10 feet tall and wide in 10 years. I love that its leaves look somewhat like leaves of the herb rosemary: narrow and pointy leaves. They are dark green on the top side, gray or silvery on the bottom side. I’ve almost been able to fool people visiting my garden into believing it was really a rosemary plant on steroids but for the lack of smell. Neither the rosemary or hakuro nishiki produce any noticeable flowers.

So I encourage you to look for — and collect — plants related to the ones you love. Not every variety will tickle your fancy, but if you discover a few that do, they will make you happy for years to come.

Featured photo: I have dozens of daylilies, but don’t consider myself a real collector of them. Courtesy photo.

Worth giving containers a try

Recently I was at my local food coop and chatted with a friend about her gardens. She told me that she is having fabulous luck growing tomatoes, peppers and more in a bucket system she constructed. Her inspiration was a book by Vermont’s Ed Smith, who has written a number of great books, including The Vegetable Gardener’s Container Bible. And although I have used the Ed Smith system in the past, it’s good to see how another person uses it, so I visited her to see what she has done.

Susan Pillsbury has nine or 10 self-watering containers, each made from two 5-gallon buckets. Here is what she did: The bottom bucket is the water reservoir; the top bucket, which nestles inside it, holds soil mix. There is a 3- or 4-inch piece of PVC plumber’s pipe (3-inch diameter) that stands up in the bottom bucket and is full of holes she drilled in it.

The piece of pipe sits in the lower bucket and supports the upper bucket. She used a 2-inch hole saw to put a wide hole in the bottom of the upper bucket, right in the middle.

That short piece of pipe gets filled with soil mix, and because it is sitting in the water reservoir, the soil is constantly wet. Like a wet sponge, it wicks water into the soil in the upper bucket. The wicking action keeps the soil for the plant roots lightly moist. The problem with growing veggies in big pots or buckets is often that they dry out or get waterlogged.

Her lower buckets all have one-inch holes drilled just below the bottom of the upper bucket. If she gets a flood of rain, water passes through the upper bucket and out the lower bucket through those holes. This also allows her to fill the water reservoir from the bottom with a hose. Susan also drilled lots of quarter-inch holes in the bottom of the upper bucket for added drainage.

I asked Susan what kind of soil she used in the buckets. She bought potting mix and mixed it with her own homemade compost in a 50-50 mix. Because a 5-gallon bucket has plenty of soil for roots, and she uses a rich mixture, she does not add any fertilizer.

What does all this cost? Not much, really. Her biggest expense was the plastic buckets, which cost about $5 each, though they are often available free from building contractors. A big bag of potting soil might cost $10 to $12 and would be enough for three or four buckets, once mixed with homemade compost. Purchased compost would add to the cost, but most gardeners make their own. Plastic pipe is not expensive.

I noticed that Susan’s tomatoes were free of disease. Most tomatoes planted in the ground have at least some blight that blackens and kills lower leaves, eventually leaving a plant bare of leaves by September. The most common form of blight lives in the soil and splashes up onto leaves when it rains. But since her plants are in potting soil and cured compost, she has avoided the disease — at least so far. Not only that, her plants are in a fenced dog pen (to avoid deer) and no tomatoes have been grown in there in the past. Obviously blight could blow in and infect her plants, but so far, so good.

Next year Susan intends to grow corn in her self-watering containers. She will use six sets of buckets, each with one or more corn plants. Placed in close proximity, this should allow good pollination. From what she has read, she will need corn plants that are relatively small, given the amount of soil each will be planted in. I watched an online video of corn planted in 30-gallon totes with up to 11 plants in each tote. The ears were large and each plant produced more than one ear.

I called Ed Smith to see if he had any updates since writing The Vegetable Gardener’s Container Bible. He and his wife, Sylvia, still grow some vegetables in containers as well as in the ground. Ed turned 80 recently and likes using containers so he doesn’t have to bend quite so far.

Ed told me that he doesn’t bother with self-watering containers any more. He has several 2-foot by 3-foot containers he got from Gardener’s Supply as self-watering containers, but removed the baffle separating the water reservoir from the planting space, giving him deeper containers that he waters as needed from above. He is semi-retired and rarely travels, so that works for him. If you are at work five days a week, a self-watering container is probably a better idea for you.

I‘ve experimented with self-watering containers and ordinary containers. The best type I’ve used is called a “Veg Trug” and is sold by Gardener’s Supply. It is a tall V-shaped wooden bin 6 feet by 30 inches and 16 inches deep in the middle. I’ve grown tomatoes, peppers, herbs and flowers in it with good success — and no bending over. It’s made of cedar; mine is in its fifth summer of use and still going strong. I empty it each winter and put it inside, but reuse the potting soil, just adding a little compost and fertilizer each spring.

Even if you’re a city dweller with little space you can grow a few things on a deck or between the sidewalk and the street. Give it a try!

Featured photo: Tomatoes growing without blight using self-watering system with buckets. Courtesy photo.

What to do about invasives

Since ancient times, explorers have brought back seeds and plants from exotic lands. Some, like the apple, have been a boon to the citizens of their adoptive home. Others, like the notorious Japanese knotweed (a.k.a. “bamboo”), have been more headache than boon.

New England, with its cold climate, is blessed with a natural defense against some invasives: our winters. But many others have settled in and are taking over —‌ or trying to. It is up to us, the gardeners, to be responsible; we need to learn what the problem plants are, and we need to get rid of any we have growing on our property.

Invasive plants are those that reproduce rapidly and take over wild habitats, out-competing the plants that Mother Nature provided, stealing light, water and nutrients from less aggressive plants. By definition, they are alien species, plants that have come here from other countries.

Most invasives produce large numbers of seeds that are distributed by birds, by the wind, or by water. In most cases, invasives are also difficult to remove or eradicate once established and have extensive root systems that preclude simply pulling them up.

Back home, in their country of origin, most invasives have predators —‌ insects or diseases —‌ that keep their numbers in check. They may have come inadvertently or been brought by well-intentioned people who thought they were pretty or had some use for them. Some, like burning bush, barberry and Norway maple, have been introduced and sold because they are essentially indestructible —‌ and pretty.

For starters, you can learn to identify the prohibited species in your state, and eliminate them on your own land. Check with your local University Extension service to obtain a list for your state.

Getting rid of invasives, however, may not be easy for two reasons: you may like the invasive species, and may have planted it before you knew better. Secondly, it may not be easy to eliminate —‌ even with the use of herbicides (which you probably don’t want to use anyhow).

The Norway maple, for example, is a lovely-looking tree that grows fast and survives well even in urban areas. It will grow in sun or partial shade and is not bothered by road salt. If you have one that is shading your house, I can understand why you might be unwilling to cut it down.

If you are a city dweller, you may assume that since there are no forests nearby, it shouldn’t matter if you keep your Norway maple (or other invasive species). But it’s not just wind or birds that distribute seeds. Runoff can carry seeds to an outlet in a natural environment. Seed from your tree can end up in streams, rivers, ponds. Thus even city dwellers can make a difference, helping to control the propagation of this invasive tree by cutting down theirs.

To see if maple trees growing wild near you are Norway maples, do this simple test: Snap off a leaf at its attachment point, and look at the stem. If it oozes a milky sap, it’s a Norway maple. The leaves also tend to be broader and larger than sugar or red maple leaves.

For organic gardeners, getting rid of invasives is not easy. For herbaceous weeds, think lawnmower. Once you have the stalks (and as much of the root mass as possible) removed, plant grass seed. Mow it every week and the roots will not get recharged. Stems will continue to grow for years, but if you mow it, you can win.

Digging the stump of an invasive shrub like barberry, bush honeysuckle or burning bush is a pain in the neck, but you probably can do it. Digging the stump of a large Norway maple is not practical. But there are folks with backhoes and stump grinders, and the expertise to do it.

If your woods are full of small seedlings of invasive trees or shrubs, you may wish to get a tool for pulling saplings called a weed wrench. This tool has a gripping mouth-like part and a long handle to provide the leverage. A weed wrench of the proper size allows a 150-pound office worker to pull out shrubs and small trees that otherwise would not be possible to yank.

Why bother digging out invasives? You may decide to do it for the sake of your grandchildren, or for the environment. Even in states with good laws prohibiting the sale of invasive plants, no one can force you to cut down or pull out your invasive plants. But being a little selfish is OK, too. Think of all the great plants you can buy and plant if you get rid of those invasives. And think how wonderful it would be if wildflowers and native plants started flourishing in your woods.

Featured photo: Purple loosestrife is beautiful, but can take over a wetland, but will also grow in dry places if given a chance. Courtesy photo.

What to use and how to use it

Mulch is commonly used to help suppress weeds and to hold in soil moisture in dry times. There are many different kinds of mulch and it is important to get the right kind, and to apply it properly if you wish to get the benefits of mulch.

The most commonly used type in flower and shrub borders is sold as bark mulch. It is sold in bags, or by the scoop at garden centers to people who have access to pickup trucks. Bulk mulch is less expensive than bagged mulch if you have a truck or can borrow one from your brother-in-law.

I’m an organic gardener, so I avoid the orange and black mulches. Read the bag before you buy any to see what is in it. According to a report from the University of Massachusetts, the dyes themselves are probably not toxic, but the wood is usually recycled wood from pallets, old decks and scrap. Those sources are dry and accept dye more easily than fresh bark or chipped branches. Recycled pressure-treated wood, if older stuff, may contain arsenic; pallets may have been exposed to spilled toxins.

I often see deep layers of mulch to keep weeds down. However, a layer 4 inches deep will also keep a short rain shower from getting to the soil and your plants. I use an inch or two of mulch, maximum. Yes, some aggressive weeds will poke through a thin layer of mulch, so I try to do a good weeding first.

Chopped leaves are wonderful mulch. Last fall we raked up our leaves and stored them outdoors in a pile. This summer we ran that pile through a chipper/shredder and turned it into a fine product we use as mulch. You can also use your mower to chop fall leaves before raking them. I have friends who store the chopped leaves in bags in the barn until needed. Chopped leaves rarely blow away after they have been rained on.

In addition to weed suppression, a layer of mulch keeps soils from drying out quickly in the hot summer sun. Essentially, it shades the soil, keeping it moist and cool. In the spring I do not mulch my vegetable garden until after soil temperatures have reached their summer level — say, 60 degrees or more.

In May, I want the sun to heat up the soil as my plants need warm soil to grow in, and seeds need warm soil to germinate. And yes, that means weed seeds will germinate too. But weeding or hoeing the early weeds is not bad and goes quickly — just be sure to get the weeds before they get too big.

Mulch gets broken down over time by soil microbes. That is a good thing — wood chips or leaves that break down add organic matter to your soil and encourage earthworms to aerate the soil and add their castings to the soil, and they are rich in minerals.

Some gardeners tell me that they worry about soil microbes using up nitrogen in the soil as they break down mulch. A nitrogen-starved plant has yellowish leaves, not dark green leaves. But I doubt that you‘ve seen that occur, even in flower beds with plenty of mulch. If it has been a problem, or you worry it will occur, apply some slow-release organic fertilizer on the soil surface before mulching.

In the vegetable garden I mulch with straw or hay. Straw is sold as seed-free and is often grown and cut before seeds are formed. Nonetheless, straw often does have seeds, much to the dismay of gardeners who have paid a premium price for it. Buy it from a source you trust!

Hay is just grass grown for animal feed that has gotten wet after cutting. Those pampered cows or horses won’t eat it, so it is sold as mulch for a few bucks a bale.

I always lay down two to four layers of newspaper on the ground before applying hay or straw. This accomplishes two things: it keeps light away from any weeds that germinate even with a layer of hay, and it slowly breaks down and adds more organic matter to the soil.

In the old days newspapers used dyes with heavy metals, including lead. But now inks are made with soy products and are said to be non-toxic, or at least free of heavy metals. The newspaper itself is made from cellulose derived from trees, though some chemicals are used in producing the paper.

Black plastic will keep weeds from germinating, but it breaks down and goes into the landfill. It’s also ugly, and I avoid it. There are various “landscape fabrics” to put under mulch that do help, though pernicious weeds can grow through some kinds. The woven kind is more susceptible to that.

What about papers that have been through a shredder? I don’t find them easy to use or aesthetically pleasing. What about coffee grounds? These are quite acidic, and if you collect them at your local coffee shop, use them only for acid-loving plants like blueberries, hollies or azaleas.

I use no mulch in my mature flower beds. By letting perennials mature and spread, they will choke out almost any weeds, except perhaps in early spring. But by now, they shade out all but the most difficult of weeds.

Featured photo: This new bed needs mulch to keep down weeds and hold in moisture. Courtesy photo.