Winter trees

Holly, hemlock and more seasonal favorites

I recently asked a few readers, garden friends and tree experts a question: “What is your favorite tree in winter?” It’s not easy to pick just one, any more than most of us would be willing to name a favorite child. I invite you to think about the question, and perhaps, come spring, you will want to plant one if you haven’t already.

Pamela Kirkpatrick of Swansea, Massachusetts, sent me this: “I love the winter landscape, and, next to my family, trees are my greatest love. American holly, which comes into its own in winter, both for its gleanings and the way it reflects light. Beech of any kind, for showing off its muscular trunk when not in leaf. White pine, troublesome as it is with its brittle limbs, because it is home to an owl who returns there every winter and serenades us with his call.”

Lynn Schadd of Cornish emailed me saying, “Amur maackia is for me the best four season-interest tree in the garden. And right now its magnificent bark is stealing the show peeling, curling, showing off plates of designer colors all of which may be easily seen since the tree has no oak-like aspirations of bigness.”

Lisa Lovelette of Waterbury Center, Vermont, wrote, “My favorite winter tree is the pine tree when dressed in white. I am a hobbyist photographer and nothing is more beautiful than a stately pine dressed in white when placed in front of a beautiful Vermont sunset, sunrise, or majestic sky … and a rising bright and bold full moon in the background makes the dressed pine a standout.”

Anne Raver of Providence, Rhode Island, is a former New York Times garden writer. Here’s what she said: “My favorite tree is the scarlet oak, or the white oak, or the red oak, any kind of oak. They support hundreds of species of insects, whose caterpillars feed on the leaves, and who provide crucial food for birds. Also, the red and scarlet oaks turn beautiful colors.”

Donnamarie Kelly of Salem wrote, “By far my favorite winter tree is the hemlock. When snow-laden, the boughs remind me of ballerina hands dipping delicately downward. Hemlocks are full, projecting a sense of being in the ‘woods’ even when in a simple grove of two or three trees.“

Julie Moir Messervy is a world-renowned garden designer and author of many great garden books. She emailed, “Our land in Vermont was an old sheep farm, as were so many. My favorite tree (in winter and also all year long) is a stately white oak (Quercus alba) that may well date from the 1800s. For me, it’s a “cosmic tree” that shades and shields our deck and screen porch from the harsh western sun, while opening its boughs to the cool summer winds. It is home to squirrels, porcupine and at least 13 types of birds in winter….”

Christine MacManus of Narragansett, Rhode Island, emailed, “A favorite winter tree of mine is a neighbor’s Stewartia with its wonderful bark of mottled patterns and colors. I’ve kept my eye on this tree for 40 years and sometimes pull mulch away from the trunk flare. And of course the summer flowers are a bonus too.”

My favorite tree authority, Mike Dirr, author of Manual of Woody Landscape Plants, could not limit himself to just one or two. He emailed, saying, “I love Nyssa sylvatica (black tupelo), Fagus grandifolia (American beech), Quercus alba (white oak), Liriodendron tulipifera (Tulip tree) and Quercus bicolor (swamp white oak) for starters.”

I know Professor Dirr is particularly fond of “majestic trees” — trees that tower over the landscape and last for 100 years or more, and all of those he mentioned can do so.

J.D. Lavallee of Henniker loves blues spruces: “In the winter, I just loved how the snow is caught in their branches forming beautiful white pillows. And light snows simply add a beautiful dusting of their needles.”

Tom Bacon of Hanover emailed, “I love the majesty of the hemlocks in general, but the way they hold the snow is beautiful in the winter and just stunning compared to other evergreens.”

As for me? My favorite is the hybrid Merrill magnolia I planted long ago as a specimen tree in the back of the house. I love its smooth gray bark and the fuzzy buds like pussywillows on steroids. Those buds remind me that spring is coming, no matter how cold the weather now. Of the native trees, I love the hop hornbeam (Ostrya virginiana) in winter. The bare branches are fine and delicate, with tiny buds. The lateral branching patterns are so ornate and beautiful that I hung one on the ceiling above my computer.

One last perspective came from my friend Alicia Jenks of Weathersfield, Vermont. She noted that American beech trees produce a lovely rustling sound on breezy winter days. The young trees hold their leaves until May and provide a quiet symphony in winter. And pines make such a soothing song on breezy days, too. So go outside to look — and listen — to the trees. Pay attention, and your trees may surprise and delight you.

Featured Photo: Flower buds on my Merrill magnolia are like pussywillows all winter. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Starting from seed

What to get, when to plant and how to make them last

I hate to be the one to give you bad news, but some seed companies are already running out of seeds. Don’t panic: There are, in fact, plenty of seeds out there. And if one company doesn’t have your favorite tomato or zinnia variety, chances are that some other company will.

Before panicking, you might want to go to your local feed-and-grain store, garden center or food coop for seeds, too. Most of those have racks of seeds, some with just one brand, others with several.

Most seeds are good for three years. Of the seeds I use, onions and parsnips are good for just one year. Peppers, parsley, corn and leeks are good for two years. Most of the cabbage family (kale, broccoli, etc.) and squash family (cukes and zukes) are good for four years. Basil and some flowers are good for five years.

You can prolong the viability and vigor of your seeds by storing them properly: They do best in a dark, dry place cooler than 40 degrees. Freezing is fine, too, but put them in an airtight container. In fact, that’s always a good idea.

Despite what I wrote above, I have germinated seeds much older than the suggested limits when I have not been able to find the varieties I wanted. There are downsides to using old seeds. They generally germinate at much lower rates. You can test this by wrapping 10 older seeds in a paper towel and keeping it moist on a sponge. If fewer than half germinate in a week or two, buy new seeds. You can do that now, before you place your seed order.

Older seeds also have less vigor. That is the main reason I avoid them, even if they will germinate at 60 percent. Not all seeds are created equal, and I want those that are ready to explode with pent up energy, ready to grow.

It’s important to know which seeds need to be started indoors and which can do well planted directly in the ground. All your root crops are best started outdoors in the ground, though beets can be started indoors. Beans and peas are direct seeded outside, too. Corn can be started in the ground or indoors in flats. Crows love freshly germinated corn seeds with a little green leaf, so planting four-inch plants started indoors is good if you have just a small plot.

Although you can start the vine crops directly in the soil, I have troubles with striped cucumber beetles killing the young plants when they first germinate by stripping them of their first leaves. So I start squash-family vines in small pots indoors a month or so before outdoor planting day, and the plants are big enough to survive some leaf damage by those insect pests.

Tomatoes, eggplants, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, kale and lettuce I start indoors in April or buy in six-packs. Peppers and some flowers need to be started indoors very early: March 1 is good where I am.

What are my favorite companies? This year I ordered most of my seeds from Fedco Seeds, a co-op based in Maine. I like that it’s a cooperative and does everything in a low-key, sustainable way: Their catalog has no color pictures designed to make me drool. They offer small seed packs for as little as $2. And instead of saying that every tomato variety is “The Best Tasting” they tell the flaws as well as the positive attributes of each variety.

I always get some things from Johnny’s Selected Seeds, an employee-owned company in Maine that is favored by commercial growers. They provide excellent growing information. This year they provide excellent comparison photos in each section, like all their tomatoes, side by side, for example.

Last year I tried John Scheepers’ Kitchen Garden Seeds and liked them a lot. If you are interested in unusual vegetables like shiso, Karikachi edamame, tatsoi and mizuna, they have plenty to choose from. They even have peanuts for northern gardeners! Like Fedco, no color photos in the catalog.

Like Italian food? Seeds from Italy carries the Franchi brand Italian seeds and more. They also have kitchen items, garden tools and more. All high quality.

Hudson Valley Seeds started as a seed library in New York state and became an excellent seed company with seeds others do not carry, like their Siberian watermelon.

Fruition Seeds in upstate New York is another favorite of mine. They grow much of their seed on their 24-acre farm, specializing in heirloom seeds for short seasons like those we have in New England. They have some nice varieties not found elsewhere. The owners are young and full of energy, and grow only organic seeds.

Renee’s Garden Seeds has great seeds but no print catalog. Still, I order from them most years. I love their mixes of different color veggies in one pack — three colors of beans, or two colors of carrots.

And lastly, don’t forget Burpee Seeds, one of the oldest and biggest seed companies for the home gardener. They sell lots of varieties that they have developed, especially disease-resistant hybrids.

So get busy, and buy your seeds now before all get sold!

Featured Photo: Seed catalogs. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Say no to pesticides

Why growing — and eating — organic is important

I’ve been growing vegetables organically all my life. I use no chemical fertilizers or pesticides. I don’t often think about the reasons I do so, any more than I think about breathing — it’s just something I do.

I recently picked up a book written by Maria Rodale called The Organic Manifesto: How Organic Farming Can Heal Our Planet, Feed the World, and Keep Us Safe (Rodale Press, 2010) and it reminded me why I do so. I’d like to share some of the important points with you here.

In the introduction Eric Schlosser (author of the fabulous book Fast Food Nation) presented some stark facts: American farmers use 1.2 billion pounds of pesticides each year — four pounds for every man, woman and child. Some of these pesticides — the organophosphates — were first developed in Germany in WWII as chemical weapons. The federal government does not require reporting of usage, and testing is done by manufacturers, not the EPA or USDA. Most food has some pesticide residue — except for organic foods, which shouldn’t have any.

One of Maria Rodale’s reasons for eating only organic food might surprise you: It has to do with climate change. Soils treated with chemicals, including fertilizers, do not have robust populations of microorganisms. Organic soils do. Key among these living beings are the mycorrhizal fungi that coat the roots of plants in organically tended soils. These fungi sequester huge amounts of carbon, taking greenhouse gases out of the atmosphere and holding it in the soil. But they are virtually non-existent in soils treated with chemicals. Grow organically? Eat organically? You are helping the environment.

Secondly, irrigation water for commercial agriculture, particularly in the West, uses large quantities of water, depleting aquifers and polluting ground water. When I traveled through the Midwest in the early 2000’s I was amazed that supermarkets designated entire aisles to jugs of water — no one wanted to drink from their own wells. And there is a dead zone in the Gulf of Mexico that is bigger than New Jersey caused by agricultural runoff of chemicals from conventional fields.

Children are particularly vulnerable to chemicals used in commercial farming. Rates of childhood cancers, asthma, diabetes, autism and other debilitating conditions continue to increase. Ms. Rodale attributes (with copious footnotes to scientific studies) many of these changes to the chemicals children consume. As she says, “Cheap food equals high health care costs.”

The “organic” label on food also means that no genetically modified organisms were used in producing your food. Back in 2010 when Rodale wrote the book, 91 percent of all soybeans and 95 percent of all corn produced in America was genetically modified to be tolerant of a weed killer called glyphosate, sold under the trade name Roundup.

There has been much controversy about Roundup, and whether it is harmful to humans. Ms. Rodale points out that Roundup cannot be washed off food: It has a surfactant that allows the chemical to penetrate the cell wall. And since corn and soy are used to manufacture many foods, from ice cream to baby food and ketchup, it is everywhere. The federal government does not consider Roundup a problem, though many scientists do.

Ms. Rodale never once, in this book, criticized conventional chemical farmers. Organic or conventional, she recognized their hard work and a desire to work their land and support their families. She recognizes that transitioning to organic farming takes time, money and education.

So what can you do? You may not be able to afford to buy nothing but organic food. But you probably can buy your meats from local farmers that do not use the feedlots of the Midwest that feed their cows and pigs antibiotics. And you can get eggs, as I do, from a local teenager who treats his hens well. (Thank you, Ian’s Eggs.)

For vegetables, you can probably grow some of what you require for vegetables in summer, or buy from a local farm stand. Many farmers are happy to tell you about how they grow their vegetables. The supplier of the local farm stand near me uses an approach called IPA or Integrated Pest Management. This method encourages farmers to use natural controls and to use pesticides only when a crop is threatened. They cultivate crops to root out weeds instead of spraying herbicides like Roundup.

But the bottom line is this: The more you grow organically, the better your soil will be. If you use only organic methods, you can avoid many chemicals in your food that might be present in grocery store foods.

I recognize that I cannot change the world with what I do. But I have learned to grow plenty of vegetables and to keep them for eating out-of-season. So think about a bigger vegetable garden this summer, and I will tell you about how to put food up for next winter when the time comes.

Featured Photo: Image courtesy of Henry Homeyer.

Winter survival

Help your plants make it through winter

If you are like me, you buy new perennials, trees and shrubs every year. Most plants sold locally are hardy, but not all. It’s good to know the “zone hardiness” of plants before you buy them, and how the zone maps work. In a nutshell, the colder the climatic zone, the lower the number.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture has created maps showing the climatic zones of all states and regions. They are based on many years of temperature records, and rate each zone according to the coldest average temperatures in each zone. Summer temperatures are not considered in creating the hardiness zones.

Each zone covers a 10-degree range of temperatures. The coldest zone in New England is Zone 3, which includes places where temperatures each winter range between minus 40 and minus 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Some maps include an “a” and “b” designation to further describe the zones. An “a” is 5 degrees colder than a “b.” So Zone 4a is minus 25 to minus 30, and 4b is minus 20 to minus 25.

Trees and perennial plants that survive in Zone 4, which includes much of Maine, Vermont and New Hampshire, should be hardy to minus 30 degrees, though we often only see minus 20 degrees. Zone 5 is minus 20 to minus 10, Zone 6 covers areas where temperatures range between minus 10 and zero, and Zone 7, which includes much of Rhode Island, temperatures only drop down to zero or 10 degrees above.

All that said, you can grow perennials, trees and shrubs that are not rated to be hardy in your zone. The key is to get them well-established before winter arrives and to provide them with growing conditions that are optimal: sun, soil and moisture levels that correspond to their needs. You probably cannot grow perennials and woodies that are rated for two zones warmer than yours, but one zone is generally possible.

Some trees and shrubs will survive in a colder zone but might not bloom every year. Or ever, for that matter. Here in Zone 4, old-fashioned wisteria vines that do well in Connecticut or Rhode Island will survive but their flower buds (which are set the summer before) are spoiled by our cold, so they do not bloom.

Harvey Buchite of Rice Creek Gardens in Blaine, Minnesota, wanted a wisteria that would bloom in his Zone 4 gardens. He was given a seedling on his wedding day 34 years ago, one started from a seed of a fairly tough hybrid. His turned out to be a wonder vine, and he named it the Blue Moon Wisteria and sold it for many years. It blooms reliably after winter temperatures of 30 below. The reason for its success? Blue Moon, unlike most other wisteria, blooms on shoots grown in the current season — on new wood.

I called Harvey Buchite in 2006 and he reported that even after hard winters it will bloom, and often three times each summer. I’ve had one since 2004 and get a very nice set of blooms each year around the Fourth of July. It usually re-blooms a little in the fall. Others have been developed since then that will bloom in Zone 4, including “Amethyst Falls,” which I grow and like even better.

Survival rates in a cold winter can be improved by mulching the roots of your delicate or borderline-hardy plants. I bought a Japanese andromeda this year, even though it is only hardy to Zone 5. In the fall I spread a thick layer of leaves around the base to keep the roots warm as winter approached. I could have used bark chips instead, which is also a good mulch.

Trees and shrubs extend their roots in the fall up until the ground freezes, and I wanted my little shrub to grow as big a root system as possible. And later, when temperatures drop to minus 20 and below, I wanted to keep the roots protected.

That andromeda was loaded with flower buds when I bought it. I may wrap it with burlap or landscape fabric to protect those blossoms from harsh winter winds, though I haven’t yet. In the long run it will have to survive on its own — I have too many plants to fuss over them all every year. The first year is always the most important — once established, plants are tougher.

Sometimes freezing and thawing of the ground will push a plant up and part way out of the soil. This allows roots to be exposed to the air, freezing and dehydrating. That is almost always lethal. But this usually only happens the first winter after planting. Check new plants after a thaw, and if a plant has popped up, push it back down and mulch it well.

Wrapping shrubs or small trees with burlap or a synthetic, breathable cloth will help to protect flower buds from desiccation and dieback. I find roses in my climate often are badly burned by winter winds, but I rarely do anything to protect them. I just cut back the roses to green wood in April or May, and they bloom nicely. I cut back a nice double red “Knockout” rose to the ground this past spring, and it rewarded me with dozens of blossoms all summer, starting in June.

I do lose some plants to winter conditions most years, but don’t feel bad about that. As I see it, I learn something each time one dies, and losing one plant means I can try a new one! Or, if a particularly loved plant does not survive in one location, I may buy another and plant in a different spot.

Henry’s book, Organic Gardening (not just) in the Northeast: A Hands-On, Month-by-Month Guide has been re-printed and will be shipped to people who ordered it soon.

Featured Photo: Blue Moon wisteria blooms on new wood, so is not bothered by cold winters. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

Know your trees

Winter is a good time to get outside and explore

This is a good time to be outdoors exploring the fields and woods. There is so much to see that will be buried in snow later on. But, you may ask, what is there to see? Trees, winter weeds, animal footprints, signs of insects, shelf fungi on trees, evergreen woodland plants and more. If I had to choose one person to show me the outdoors in winter, it would be Donald W. Stokes, who wrote A Guide to Nature in Winter, which covers all these topics and more.

I find that learning the names and characteristics of plants and animals makes them more interesting. Many people look at all evergreen conifers and call them “pine trees.” But if you know the difference between a white pine and a Canadian hemlock or a balsam fir, you can decide whether you want to grow one or the other on your property.

Donald Stokes’ book explains that if you learn to identify the six most common deciduous trees and the six most common trees with needles or cones, you will know 80 percent of the trees in most northern forests. And you can do this in winter. Bud location, size and shape are good indicators for identifying trees.

1. Maples. As on ash trees, the buds, branches and, later, leaves are arranged opposite each other, while most other trees alternate the location of them on stems. Maples have oval buds that are between ¼ and ½ inch long.

2. Ash. Buds on ash trees are larger than maple buds and are dark and dome shaped. The twigs on ash trees are generally thicker than on maples.

3. Oak. These have clusters of buds at the end of each branch, and the younger trees often hold onto their brown leaves through the winter. Buds and branches appear in an alternating pattern.

4. Beech. The buds on beech are long and pointy. But the most distinguishing characteristic is its smooth, gray bark. There is a beech fungal disease that can mar the bark, making it look like a bad case of acne.

5. White Birch. Most people can recognize white birch by its bright white and peeling bark, but other birch species can have golden or greyish bark. The bark also has long horizontal lines marking it, and they often have catkins hanging from the tips of upper branches.

6. Poplar, also called aspen. These trees tend to grow in clumps in places with poor soil. The upper bark has a greenish tinge, and their buds are variable in color but always have sharp, pointy ends.

Then there are the evergreens:

1. Pines. They have clumps of needles in groups of two, three or five. White pine, the most common, has groups of five long, soft needles.

2. Hemlock. These trees have short (1/2-inch) soft needles with two white lines on the underneath side. There is a short stem between needle and twig.

3. Balsam fir. One-inch needles, also with two white lines underneath but no stem between needle and twig.

4. Cedar. Small, scale-like needles arranged along the twigs.

5. Spruce. Four-sided needles that are uncomfortably sharp to the touch.

6. Larch. No needles in winter, but cones may be present. Stubby twigs on branches.

After that basic list of characteristics, the Stokes book provides interesting details about the various species of trees, and differences within a genus. So, for example, he explains that most wooden sports equipment and the handles of our garden tools are made from ash because it is strong, relatively light, and flexible. And he notes that sycamores, known for beautiful variegated bark, are often hollow when large, and home to nesting mammals like raccoons and skunks.

I was fascinated to read that willow seeds, if washed away and deposited on a muddy bank (in spring), can germinate in two days and grow seven feet during the first year.

Poplars or aspen are often the first trees to grow after land has been burned or damaged by construction of roads. They often appear in clusters, as new trees pop up from the roots. They are not long-lived like maples or oaks, which can live hundreds of years: poplars, Stokes noted, generally last no more than 80 years, and frequently less.

Did you know that the sounding boards of many musical instruments are made of spruce? Stokes points out that it is especially clear of knots and imperfections, and resonates better than other woods.

If you pay attention to your trees, you will learn to identify them by shape and bark. Sugar maples, for instance, have nice rounded tops and older ones have craggy bark. I can identify a white pine from a fast-moving vehicle: branches on the lower part of the tree droop downward, upper branches reach for the sky.

So head outdoors and study the trees along a woodland path. And bring along A Guide to Nature in Winter. Almost anyone will learn something from it in no time.

Featured Photo: Birches have horizontal lines on their bark. Photo by Henry Homeyer.

2020 gardens

What worked last year and what didn’t

This past year was a tough one for many of us: isolation due to Covid-19, political turmoil, employment interruptions and more. But in the garden? For me, it was pretty good, overall. It was a very dry summer, but that meant that there were fewer fungal diseases on my tomatoes and phlox. Since a small stream passes through my property the water table is high, and my established plantings did fine with little supplemental watering.

Let’s start in the vegetable garden. What tomatoes did best for me? For sheer production, it was one called “Big Mama.” She is shaped like a plum tomato, but three times the size or more. Flavor-wise it was not spectacular for fresh eating, but it was great for making sauce. I got seeds from Burpee.

My best-flavored tomato? One I bought as a seedling called Hungarian Heart. It is a big, juicy tomato that makes any sandwich memorable. I ate them for breakfast, lunch and dinner when I had them. Seeds for this heirloom tomato are available from The Seed Savers Exchange or Burpee seeds. And since it is an heirloom, you can save seeds from this year’s harvest to use next year.

Equally tasty is a perennial favorite of mine, the Sun Gold cherry tomato — early, relatively disease-free, highly productive. It’s a modern hybrid, so you’ll need to buy seeds or plants every year. But buy them early: They sell out fast. They’re great for snacking or in salads. I also dehydrate them by the hundred and use in soups, stews and salads all winter.

Best-looking early tomato? Blue Beauty. It starts out blue but ripens to be a red tomato with black shoulders. Very productive with six- to eight-ounce tomatoes and a nice flavor. Hybrid. Seeds available from Pine Tree Garden Seeds.

Best annual flowers? My wife Cindy ordered 18 dahlia tubers last winter, and we started them indoors last March in 12-inch pots. We grew them under lights until mid-June, when the soil was warm enough to please this heat-loving flower. They grew purple, pink and white six-inch blossoms on six-foot-tall plants. We had more dahlia plants than any normal people would want, and even after we gave away a few we had a forest of them.

These big plants had to be staked, and the only thing strong enough to support them were one-inch-square hardwood grade stakes, five- or six-footers. We dedicated one eight-foot by three-foot flower bed to them and scattered a few plants elsewhere.

For years I have been trying to find the perfect spot for a nice flowering shrub called Carolina allspice or sweetshrub. I moved it this year for the third time, and finally found a good spot. About 10 years ago I planted it in full sun with moist soil, and the leaves burned. Then I put it in shade, and it didn’t flower much. This year I moved it to a drier location in dappled shade under a pear tree. It grew well and appears to have settled in *well.

Sweetshrub produces nice burgundy flowers in late June. Some varieties are very fragrant. Mine is not. (Note to self: Buy flowering plants when in flower if they are supposed to be fragrant.)

We had a fierce windstorm in 2020 and it partially tipped over a 15-foot catalpa tree that we’d had for three years. I was able to push it back up to vertical position but worried that it was unstable. I tied it to three stakes for a while. Then I had the idea to place a large stone over the root ball on the side that had lifted up. That really stabilized it, and I removed the ropes, which had begun to dig into the bark. So far, so good, despite strong winds this fall.

For years I have been frustrated by weeds that infested a walkway through a terraced area for flowers. Goutweed and creeping grasses were seemingly impossible to eradicate, especially since the roots could hide under the large flat stones I had used as stepping stones. This year my wife, Cindy, decided to make it better.

First we removed all stepping stones and she dug out the weed roots. She hired three teenagers to wheelbarrow away the soil and help with the digging as she excavated the path. They dug out a pathway about eight inches deep, two to three feet wide and 80 feet long. They then put down six inches of one-inch crushed stone and covered it with landscape fabric. Then they edged it with bricks standing on edge and filled it with rounded pea stones about half an inch across.

The project was a huge success: For the first time ever, we had no weeds in the walkway. Not one, all summer. Stone, with no soil mixed in, will not grow weeds and the bricks kept soil in the beds from getting into the pathway. We will be on the lookout for scraps of goutweed that might pop up at the edges of the walkway next year, but the landscape fabric will keep any scraps of root from sending up shoots.

Each year is different. Each year certain flowers or vegetables are supremely happy, and others sulk. That’s part of the fun of gardening: remembering the good, learning from the bad, and looking forward to the next year. My best wishes to you all for 2021.

Featured Photo: Calycanthus or sweetshrub is a shade-loving shrub I love. Photo courtesy of Henry Homeyer.

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