Plants star as Thanksgiving Day traditions. From cranberries to pumpkins, flora rivals fauna when it comes to menu musts on festive dinner tables.
Gardeners value flora for more than traditions. Those of us who grow vegetables and fruits savor homegrown flavor unrivaled by competition in stores. Anyone who grows flowers, knows their fragrance and color bring a smile.
Besides the obvious, there are subtle, subliminal harvests that come to mind during this too-short-season of deliberate gratitude.
Be thankful for the family members, friends, neighbors and others who introduced you to gardening and nurtured you along the way. I think of Grandpa Leach and his furrows straight as laser beams. Mom, my mother’s mother, who grew a higgledy-piggledy collection of all sizes and colors of plants in her small backyard. My garden’s appearance meshes the laser sharp and come-what-may of their poles-apart approaches.
Auntie and Uncle had a mixed vegetable garden. She tended rows of marigolds and fiesta colored zinnias. He carefully cultivated Beefsteak tomatoes.
Perhaps the most important people are my mother and father, who allowed my little sister and I to have our own plot in the large backyard surrounded by flat, farm fields stretching to the ends of the world. Grow what you like we were told. For me, it was some of Auntie’s zinnias and marigolds, plus a couple of small lilac starts.
The latter continue to hang on despite the dense shade of a sycamore tree, once a mere sapling pulled up from a back woods creek in Adams County, Ohio. Little did I realize this souvenir from a marvelous autumn afternoon hike with a friend would tower so high, so quickly. (Well, it has been almost 40 years since the young sycamore was planted here.)
Numerous gardening friends have shared plants that make amiable companions with family heirlooms.
None of these people share Thanksgiving Day with me anymore, though their memories return when walking through the backyard. They come alive when I see their favorite plants in my garden or those of others. They live again whenever I share how-to moments with those new to gardening, always hoping my enthusiasm is as contagious as theirs was to me.
There are subconscious effects of plants. A “host” of dancing daffodils brought the poet Wordsworth more than visual pleasure on a sun-filled spring day. Wise gardeners know what he meant when he wrote,
… What wealth to me the show had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie in vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
Perhaps your dancing partners are violets, roses or lilies. No matter. Simply gaze at them, inhale their fragrance, let their beauty flow deeply into your heart and mind. Recall the memory as often as you like. Be a part of nature, not a mere photographer or observer, and thank God for a world filled with such treasures.
In a way, I suppose all of our planning and planting is a subconscious (primal?) attempt to reclaim Eden, the place of beginning. Perhaps this is why sitting in a garden, beside a shore, within a forest or along a flowery meadow brings such peace. An ancient need is met, drawing us ever back to nature and its Maker.
Across the country, flowers are transforming downtowns, attracting tourists to once sleepy river towns and becoming the centerpiece of communities’ destination events. And, for the past 18 years, America in Bloom has been fostering and rewarding these communities for their outstanding efforts.
At a past AIB national symposium, board member and economist Charlie Hall talked about the financial impact of plants. Statistics show horticulture creates 2 million jobs. Plus, America’s public gardens contribute $2.3 billion in community tourism spending, and stores with landscaped areas have expanded sales from longer shopping occasions and higher value pricing.
America in Bloom was founded in Columbus, Ohio, in 2001 and has since awarded top honors to several Midwestern communities. Here are videos sharing several stories. Perhaps, you’ll find inspiration for your own community or discover a new place to visit.
Holland, MI – Known for its famous tulip festival, Holland recently gave tulips fields a second life as they offered community garden plots during the summer months. In addition, 800 volunteers plant tulip bulbs in community parks and adopt beautification projects at museums and more.
St. Charles, IL – Located on the Fox River just west of Chicago, this community showcases its heritage, service and community beatification programs through America in Bloom. Its beautiful river attracted early settlers who relied on the river as a source of power and transportation. Today, the community mixes its cultural heritage with a hip vibrant downtown.
Logan, Ohio – Volunteers are the workhorse of this Appalachian community’s beautification efforts. Statistics show volunteers donated 85,900 hours and raised more than $90,000 for projects like the downtown street beautification, the gateway displays welcoming tourists to the region’s nature attractions and its Washboard Festival. Pretty impressive for a community of less than 10,000!
A Mother’s Day gift that keeps giving is this pink dogwood along the driveway. The yellow shrub is Kerria japonica ‘Pleniflora.’
Special trees, like dogwoods, take root in your heart
By Michael Leach
The affair started with the first glance and continues almost a half century later. As with similar affairs, it’s unrequited love. The object of my affection couldn’t care less and never deigns to notice me. Yet enchantment grows and reaches fever pitch for about a fortnight each spring.
My aloof horticultural love in this case is the pink dogwood tree, Cornus florida f. rubra. I encountered pink dogwoods when taking a shortcut to church through an old cemetery near my apartment in the small southern Ohio city of Portsmouth. This was during my cub reporter days. Jaw-dropping clouds of cotton candy tethered daintily to slender black trunks were scattered across the sward of Irish green grass.
I
had to have one. I eventually bought two — as Mother’s Day gifts that I planted
at the home place in suburban Columbus. Mother, who had planted two white ones
in the yard, was delighted.
My
journalistic career took me from Portsmouth to Kentucky, Florida and finally
back to Columbus 30 years ago. I moved into the home place. Every spring since
then, I’ve had my own little pink cloud to look at. Sitting in an old wicker
rocker on the sunporch makes a comfortable, all-weather viewing spot.
One
of the pinks was cut down almost four years ago, new growth couldn’t keep up
with the dying branches. The second tree was stingy with flowers this spring,
after being a small cloud of pink in previous seasons. Perhaps this is only a
hiccup. Mother’s little white trees slowly declined and were cut down about 20
years ago. This is not great territory for dogwoods.
Pink dogwoods serve as memorials in Greenlawn Cemetery in Portsmouth, OH.
Meanwhile,
Portsmouth’s Greenlawn Cemetery launched a memorial pink dogwood plan in the
1990s. Even in that much friendlier clime, they aren’t known for
longevity. However, the ones that do live decades become spectacles. At the
base of many trees are small white marble markers with the names of special
people. Their horticultural legacy is a tree with burgundy foliage in fall, a
silhouette worthy of a Japanese print in winter, and those pink clouds every
spring.
In
recent years of semi-retirement there’s been time to head south to Portsmouth
for a view of the dogwoods. Along U.S. 23 are what could pass for tufts of
clouds that got too close to the branches of the chartreuse wooded hills. They
are groves of dainty white dogwoods, often accented with redbuds. It’s a 3-D
Impressionist painting.
The allure and excitement never dims. Each spring I thank God for granting me another view of pink clouds. And each time I pass the little tree at the end of the sidewalk, I remember Mother.
It’s plant sale time and you will find me in the role of plant ambassador at the Chadwick Arboretum Sale on Friday morning from 8 to 11 a.m. I will be there to answer questions and find plants that will work in your garden. At 11:00, I will be a guest of All Sides with Ann Fisher on WOSU-89.7 and answer more questions.
One question I anticipate from listeners and sale visitors is: what are the effects of the record precipitation last year – 55-plus inches – plus the wet winter and spring? In Central Ohio we are already 6” above normal for this time of year, and much of the Midwest is experiencing similar weather. My response will be: “Good question; let me consult my crystal ball.” Then I will relate what has happened in my garden.
One casualty of last year’s rain and wet winter was my thyme lawn. It looked approximately 95% dead on April 23rd when this picture was taken. It is slowly coming back, and I can now adjust the death toll to 85% dead. By this time in May I should see flower buds forming; however, I am happy to see any green leaves.
Thyme-less lawn
This spring may be different than what we think is the normal* spring, but I do want to remind you that Mother Nature has offered other mercurial springs over time. Last year, we had several “100-year rains.” Most of my plants made it through, but I lost several lavenders, some hens and chicks, and a few sages. The daffodils planted in that swamp were not especially happy and flowered less last year and this year.
In May of 2006, we had low overnight temperatures in the 30s which threatened the tomatoes and chilies in my vegetable gardens. Yes, those are newspaper hats.
And in 2009, we had freezing overnight temperatures (in the mid-20s) during the week of May 23rd. You are looking at Remay fabric which is much easier to use than making 25 paper hats.
So my best advice is to wait, observe and mark the places where plants have disappeared. Then drive over to the Chadwick Plant Sale or to your favorite garden center and purchase replacements. This is where the old adage, “when you get lemons, make lemonade”, is very appropriate.
Wishing you a productive Spring!
P.S. – *normal is relative; happy to hear what you think is a normal spring.
My dad with an 150-year-old European beech at Lawnfield, the home of President Garfield in Mentor, Ohio.
Honoring The Giving Trees
By Debra Knapke
In her March 27th post, Teresa offered a
wonderful selection of books for children.
One was The Giving Tree. Shel
Silverstein’s story is simple: a tree gives her all to the one she loves.
We annually celebrate trees on Arbor Day; the last Friday in April. The Arbor Day Foundation is the caretaker of this event, and it has announced a bold and wonderful initiative called Time for Trees. In four years’ time the Arbor Day Foundation intends to “Plant 100 million trees in forests and communities around the globe. Inspire 5 million tree planters to help carry the mission forward.” This timing coincides with the 150th anniversary of the first Arbor Day.
Flower of a tulip tree
Bald cypress and its knees in a swamp at Callaway Gardens in Georgia
But we don’t always value our trees and sometimes,
incautious decisions are made.
In a community where generations have loved and worked with
nature there are those who do not fully understand the consequences of removing
trees. Several weeks ago in Mansfield, Ohio, the Richland County Commissioners stated
that the ten tuliptrees and one pin oak that have graced the front of the
Richland County Administration building for decades were hazards, allowed birds
to roost, and were in the way of a the installation of a new monument.
They were removed. There are plans to replace the trees. It will take years for the new trees to mature, but it is heartening to know that trees will come back to frame the municipal building.
Mansfield Municipal Building with the tulip trees and pin oak
In honor of trees, I offer this short ode:
The Giving Tree – a short list of the reasons we owe
trees our love and respect
Trees shelter us; they are nature’s sunscreen.
Trees cool us: three trees correctly placed around a house
can lower utility bills up to 20%.
Trees draw pollution out of the air: carbon monoxide,
nitrogen dioxide, sulfur dioxide, and particulate matter released by the
burning of fossil fuels.
Tree roots, and the soil systems that surround them, purify water.
Trees provide storm water control by slowing water and diverting
wind; thereby slowing erosion.
Trees store carbon; lots of carbon.
Trees – and all plants – perform photosynthesis where they
combine, water, sunlight and carbon and make sugar. Without this amazing
process, life would not exist as we know it.
Trees offer food to all life: while they are living, bark,
branches, roots, leaves, fruit, and seeds feed bacteria, fungi, insects, birds,
mammals… us. When trees fall and go back to the Earth, they nurse new
communities of life.
When trees are numerous in a community, mental health is
increased and crime is reduced.
The older the tree, the bigger its diameter and canopy, the
more a tree gives to us and others. Young ones – just as with animals – reach
maturity slowly and offer these benefits at a much lower degree.
Gardeners harvest more than flowers and food
There are subconscious effects of plants. A “host” of dancing daffodils brought the poet Wordsworth more than visual pleasure on a sun-filled spring day. Wise gardeners know what he meant when he wrote,
