Category: Outdoors

Plan what you’ll plant

I am probably not the only person who is determined to lose a little weight after all those delicious but fattening meals and desserts served up over the holidays. One way to feel satisfied and lose weight is to eat more salads and enjoy more vegetables. That’s my plan, anyway, and I recently took stock of what is lingering on in my storage fridge. I still have some nice veggies from summer that still taste good and are satisfying my hunger.

Digging around the vegetable drawer I noticed several kohlrabi I grew last summer, but that had not been touched in months. I was prepared not to like them because they had been stored so long. I peeled one, chopped it into half-inch cubes, and added to my nightly salad. It was delicious! It’s even tasty as low-calorie snack food just by itself.

Kohlrabi is in the cabbage family, but not well-known or much grown. It looks like a space alien in the garden: It is an above-ground root vegetable of sorts. Round or oblong, it can be green or purple, with leaves poking out of the beet-like “tuber” on bare stems. It is crunchy, and tastes a bit like broccoli, which is in the same family. It can be used to make coleslaw when grated with carrots.

Buy a packet of kohlrabi seeds and plant them in early June or late May. They are fast-growing plants and only need a bit of space to grow well. If you want kohlrabi all winter for adding to stir-fries, plant a green one called ‘Kossak,’ which gets large — up to 8 or 10 inches in diameter — and stores for up to four months in a cool, high-humidity place like the vegetable drawer of your fridge. I get seeds from Johnny’s Selected Seeds in Maine, but it is also available from High Mowing, Gurney’s and Park Seeds, among others.

I also found half a purple cabbage that had been lurking in my vegetable drawer since September. I expected it to be stale, but it was fine. Cabbage is easy enough to grow, but I often don’t bother because I don’t use it much — it is cheap and readily available. I grated some and added it to a green salad, adding color and bulk.

I had a great onion crop last summer. I buy onion plants from Johnny’s Seeds most years instead of babying seed-started plants indoors. When I start from seed, I start them under lights around March 1. When I start my own, even with intense light close to the seedlings, they are always a bit flimsy. Some of the plants I get from Johnny’s are nearly as thick around as a pencil, and take off and start growing immediately. The kind I grow are yellow onions, one called Patterson. They keep for months in a cool location, but will sprout and soften if left in the warm kitchen in a bowl.

The plants come in bundles of 50 to 60, according to their catalog, but last year I got closer to 100 plants per bundle. Onions don’t like competition, so weed early and often. Space your onions about 3 inches apart in the row, with rows at least 8 inches apart. They like fluffy, rich soil so be sure to add lots of compost and stir it in well. You can also start onions from “sets,” which are like little bulbs but less vigorous than plants.

What else am I eating from the garden now? Garlic. It is easy to grow, but if you didn’t plant any last October, you’re probably out of luck. It sets its roots in the fall, goes dormant, and pops up early in the spring. It is rarely available to purchase in the spring. I was out in California one spring and bought some soft-necked garlic in the spring, and it did fairly well here. You could try planting some of last year’s garlic, come spring, if you have any left over but it’s not recommended.

Potatoes are also a mainstay of my winter menu. I know, they are not usually recommended for dieters. But that is partly because of how they are served. They are a healthy starch, but many of us tend to load up potatoes with sour cream or butter. Add them to a stew or stir-fry, and they are still tasty but much less calorific.

I went 20 years once without buying a potato. I grew plenty, and saved out some for planting each spring. By only eating my own, I went a few months without any while waiting for my new crop to be ready. But it was a matter of principle to only eat my own. Commercial potatoes, if not raised organically or following IPM guidelines, can carry heavy pesticide loads.

The trick to getting lots of potatoes is to grow them in full sun. You can get potatoes where there is only six hours of sun per day, but the more sun, the more potatoes. And don’t let the potato beetles defoliate your plants. Check leaves, including the underneath side, for orange egg masses or larvae often when they are starting to grow. They can multiply exponentially if you let early beetles multiply.

Having a vegetable garden is, of course, a certain amount of work. But not only does it provide me with good, healthy, organic veggies; it also saves me lots of money and keeps me active in the garden. As we get older, the more exercise we get, the better. So start reading the catalogs or websites of seed companies, and plan what you will plant, come spring. Me? I can’t wait!

Featured photo: Try growing Kohlrabi this summer. They’re tasty and keep well. Courtesy photo.

Make the most of last year’s garden

Winter is upon us and it may seem there is little for a gardener to do. No weeding, nothing to plant, no flowers to pick. But last year’s garden may still have some remnants that, with a little imagination, can create something pleasing to the eye. I went out to my garden in early winter to see what dry flowers were still standing after my garden clean-up and saw plenty to work with. I picked a lot and set it all aside for making winter wreaths and arrangements.

I like wreaths, and in the past I have made them to decorate an outdoor space such as a blank wall or door. Instead of using a wire wreath form, as many people do with evergreen wreaths, I used grapevines to make the basic form for my wreath. You can, too.

Go to a wooded area and look for vines climbing a tree. Grape vines are common in hardwood forests, but often strangle trees, so removing some grapevine is actually a good thing to do. Cut a 15-foot length of grapevine that is about as thick around as your ring finger. It is important to use living, not dead, vines; they are a greenish white inside and flexible. Dead vines are brittle, brown, and not suitable.

Begin by forming a vine circle 14 to 16 inches in diameter by overlapping (or twisting) one half of the vine over the other half — the same way you would start to tie your shoelaces. Then grasp one of the loose ends and weave it around the vine circle in loops, over and under, pulling it tight as you go. Then take the other end of the vine and weave it around the circle.

The great thing about this grapevine wreath is that you can just slide stems of dry flowers in between the vines and natural tension will hold them in place. In fact, I had to use a screwdriver to lift the vines at times in order to slide the stems in place. But I also use thin florist wire to tie together more delicate things like grasses and add them to the wreath.

Here are some of the plants I used in my winter wreath. Sedum “Autumn Joy” is a deep brown and stands up well in the winter garden. Fountain grass “Morning Light” provides a light brown, fluffy material, as the seed heads are still present. Mine got knocked over by ice earlier in the winter, and then after the ice melted, it stood back up again!

What else? Various hydrangeas have flower panicles that are dry and delicate but still attached at this time of year. I used some flowers from one called “Quick Fire.” I like it for wreaths because the panicles are not huge, the way many of the PeeGee hydrangeas are, or Annabelle. If your panicles are too big, you can prune parts off to make them more suitable for a wreath.

I wanted some greenery in the wreath and could have pruned off some twigs from either white pine or hemlock but had some Christmas fern right near the house and used that instead. I’m not sure how long it will hold up in a wreath, but it looks good now. Hemlocks tend to drop needles fairly quickly, but anything used as a Christmas tree would be fine — Balsam fir or blue spruce, or example. Or snip some stems off your Christmas tree when you take it down.

For color I went to my brook and gathered some winterberry growing alongside it. This shrub has bright red berries in winter, and although it prefers a moist location, it will grow in ordinary garden soil, too. In summer it is pretty ordinary looking, but is fabulous when covered with red berries in winter. You need both male and female plants to get berries. One male is fine for five females.

The last addition to my winter wreath were some stems of teasel, a biennial weed hated by Midwestern corn farmers. It gets in their machinery and gums up the works — and it grows 6 feet tall. The flowers and seed heads are 2-inch cylinders that are very prickly. The stems have thorns, but these can be rubbed off while wearing gloves, making them easier to work with.

Because teasel is a biennial, it is easy to control: I pull most of the first-year plants when they are small. I leave just a few to grow and produce flowers. Six plants or so are nice. They stand up all winter and contrast well with the snow.

If you are not interested in making a wreath, or don’t have the time, pick some stems of anything interesting still standing in the garden, and put them in a dry vase. I leave some flowers with seed heads for the goldfinches and juncos to munch. Things like black-eyed susans and purple coneflower are nice for them. I always leave some snakeroot, too, as it is a tall plant that stands above the snow.

Lastly, if you are looking for dried flowers to decorate with, don’t forget the weeds. Walk through an un-mowed field and you will see plenty of dry flowers standing proud in the snow. Or take a walk along a country road and look for shrubby things with interesting branches or seed pods. With a little imagination, they can be used to create beauty.

Featured photo: Winter wreath with a dusting of snow. Courtesy photo.

Fostering a curiosity for nature

One recent morning I decided it was time to finish reading a small book of essays I had started long before and savored but had (inexplicably) put off finishing. World of Wonders: In Praise of Fireflies, Whale Sharks and Other Astonishments is a delight, from start to finish. Its author has a name that could wrap around my own more than once: Aimee Nezhukumatathil.

I think of the author as Aimee, and I know she would not mind. She is young, full of life, with a “joie de vivre” that lights up every room she enters, I should think. But what encouraged me to share her book with you was the last essay, “Firefly (Redux): Photinus pyralis.”

In her essay about fireflies she recounts her experience teaching a poetry class at an elementary school in a suburban town where fireflies are common. When she mentioned fireflies, most of her students thought she was making them up. Of 22 students in her class, 17 had never seen a firefly. Instead of spending early summer evenings outdoors catching fireflies and putting them in jars to bring indoors, they were texting friends or playing video games.

That same morning I read a review in the New York Times of a biography of E.O. Wilson, a hero of mine and a biologist who is now 92 — but still active and observant [editor’s note: Wilson died Dec. 26, 2021]. He began his scientific life studying small creatures ignored by most of us: ants. At age of 13 he found a species of red fire ant from Argentina that had never been reported in the United States. He went on to study at Harvard and write more than 30 books and 500 scientific articles.

So what do these two wonderful people have to do with you or me? They have great curiosity about the natural world. And we do, too. We are gardeners and as such spend time pondering why any given plant bloomed magnificently last year but meagerly this year. We offer our palette of plants more water, or less. We add fertilizer, or we don’t. Would an early June “haircut” delay blossoming and encourage a less lanky plant? Good gardeners pay attention to the details of life.

I believe that we all have a responsibility to share our passion with our children and our grandchildren. Or the boy across the street who stops, while walking his dog, and asks us questions about our garden. Most scientists and citizen scientists had someone in their early life who encouraged them to ask questions and showed them something special that amazed them.

When I was in the third or fourth grade my family took a week’s vacation together in Maine. We stayed at Goose Cove Lodge on Deer Isle, a delightful rustic place run by a retired biology professor, Dr. Ralph Waldron. Dr. Waldron offered guided walks along tidal pools and in meadows of wildflowers off the beaten track. My parents, my sister Ruth Anne and I always went on these walks. Dr. Waldron not only let me see new things; he encouraged me to take samples and bring them back to the lodge to study.

And so I began my career as a citizen scientist. He taught me how to preserve flowers and leaves by pressing them in a simple press to make herbarium mounts. He taught me not only the common names of plants but their Latin names. He encouraged me to see similarities and differences in plants. He let me preserve small sea creatures in glass jars with formaldehyde as a preservative so that I could take them home, along with my flowers. I began to appreciate the vast diversity of the natural world, and its beauty.

We returned to Goose Cove Lodge every summer for a few years, and I deepened my interest for the natural world each time we went. In college I majored in biology, in part because of Dr. Waldron’s influence.

Sometimes it seems that the news about the natural world is always depressing: global warming, I read this morning, is causing rising temperatures in ponds, causing more poisonous blue green algae to flourish. Elsewhere today I read that a living species somewhere becomes extinct every day. And so on. What can you and I do about it?

We can garden. And we can introduce the life outdoors to a young person. An 8-year old, perhaps. If we take joy in what we do and share our excitement with a young person, they too may become an E.O. Wilson, or an Aimee Nezhukumatathil.

We don’t need to be scientists to encourage young people to love and respect our natural world. My gardening grandfather, John Lenat (1888-1967), probably never finished high school. He came to the United States as a young man from Germany. He loved to garden, invited me to spend time with him each summer, and I absorbed a lot from his way of doing things. He let me putter in the garden and do things to help, but only as much as I wanted. He never asked me to weed, and let me take worms from his compost pile to catch fish.

As a New Year’s resolution this year, I hope you will think about connecting a young person with the outdoors. With our gardens, or the bugs and toads that live there. Maybe together we can all make a difference. Just maybe, if we each make an effort to live sustainably, we can save the world.

Featured photo: World of Wonders is a delight to read. Courtesy photo.