Rudbeckia (a.k.a. black-eyed susan)

Rudbeckias, also known as black-eyed susans and sometimes coneflowers (which is why it’s always best to use correct species names) are the star of my garden right now. I grow two species: R. subtomentosa and R. triloba. You could consider them as variations on a black-eyed-susan theme.

R. submentosa, or sweet black-eyed susan, is a tough (you might say assertive) perennial that grows up to about 6′ high and blooms from July through first frost. Individual flowers are large–about 4″–and there are gazillions of them. This plant is completely pest- and disease free and the deer and rabbits mostly leave it alone. Like all native prairie flowers, it is a magnet for pollinators, although Rudbeckias do not seem to attract butterflies except for the occasional hairstreak.

R. triloba, or brown-eyed susan, can only be described as adorable. The flowers are fairly small, about 2″ across, and a brilliant Crayola yellow-orange. This plant is smaller overall than R. submentosum, reaching about 3-4′. It does not spread underground like R. submentosum and is not truly perennial. Individual plants seem to last 3-4 years, but it self-seeds in my garden, so I always have seedlings. It is also pest- and disease-free, but it tends to be eaten by deer and rabbits. (I spread the plants around so the critters don’t find all of them.)

Members of this genus may be perennials, annuals, biennials, or triennials. The common black-eyed susan (R. hirta) is a biennial. In my experience, they take two years to bloom from seed or after being moved, as is true for most prairie plants. they need time to develop large root systems.

All Rudbeckias are native to North America., The genus belongs to the aster family (Asteraceae), and all species have flowers that botanists call composites. (Sometimes the family name Compositae is used instead.) That’s because all the plants in this family have flower heads made up of many tiny individual flowers. The brightly colored petals are actually rays, and the actual flowers make up the center disk. In all composite flowers, the individual flowers actually bloom in rows from the outside of the disk inward. You can often see pollinators working their way around the circle going from tiny flower to flower. Here’s a picture that clearly shows a flower head with the outer circle of flowers in bloom:

The Asteraceae is a huge plant family that includes many native perennials (asters, echinacea, sunflowers), many familiar, though nonnative, garden plants (yarrow, marigolds, daisies), and many important food plants (artichokes, lettuce, sunflower seeds and oil). The many native perennials in this huge, happy family help bring variety, beauty, and sustainability to the garden. Plant some for yourself, and enjoy them for many years to come.

More about growing tomatoes

Gardeners and would-be gardeners are obsessed with tomatoes, and with good reason. There’s nothing like a just-picked, vine-ripened tomato. The big tomatoes in my garden aren’t ripe yet, and yesterday a fellow gardener gave me one huge Beefmaster, so big that I could eat only half at a sitting, and it was fabulous. The kind of tomato that you eat by itself with only the tiniest sprinkle of salt. Yum.

But tomatoes are hard to grow. They are subject to all kinds of pests and diseases, they set fruit only within a narrow temperature window, the fruits crack or turn black with too much or too little water. The vines grow huge and are hard to control, and they continually put out suckers. Yet we go on year after year, buying plants or seeds, obsessing all winter and spring, enjoying those first few tomatoes but then seeing the harvest ruined by blight or overcrowding or too much rain. We’re all subject to climate and weather, but there are some things you can do to reduce the other problems that plague tomato plants.

Right now I am harvesting a dozen or so small tomatoes every day (yellow and red grapes), plus an occasional medium-size yellow tomato, and waiting impatiently for the vines with the large heirlooms to start producing (they got a late start). I’ve learned quite a bit from past mistakes–in the past, I’ve  planted too many vines too close together and haven’t been sufficiently vigilant about pruning out suckers, so the vines succumbed early to fungal diseases. Two years ago we got so much rain in the August that, after a great July harvest, the fruit cracked on the vine. Last year I overcompensated, didn’t water enough, and the fruit started to develop blossom end rot (later amended by proper watering.) Tomatoes are hard to grow. We should all stick to eggplant and zucchini, but we won’t.

This year things are going well, however. I have been scrupulous about removing  suckers and tying the plants to stakes every few days. Here’s a picture of my vegetable garden taken a couple of days ago:

The tall plant in the center is a single tomato vine (small yellow grape tomatoes). Because there’s plenty of room around this plant, I allowed it to have two main stems, each tied to its own stake (the two stakes in the center). These stakes are 8′ tall, and the vines have already reached the top. The other stakes in the picture are supporting eggplants.)

Based on my two and a half years’ experience growing tomatoes, plus my horticultural training, I would suggest that there are a few simple rules that will help you get a good harvest (but not ensure it):

1. Space the plants widely, at least 2-3′ apart, and be ruthless about pruning suckers.

2. Use tall, strong supports, such as 8′ stakes, and tie the plants frequently. They grow very fast.

3. Make sure the soil is loose and well drained and high in organic matter. Enrich with compost, and avoid high-nitrogen fertilizers.

4. Provide 1-2″ of water per week early in the season, 1″ per week once fruit has begun to set. Water deeply every 5-7 days rather than giving a little sprinkle every day.

5. Water early in the day, never in the evening. You want to make sure the leaves are dry before nightfall.

6. The vines will not set fruit during very hot or very cool weather, so don’t be alarmed if you see some incomplete fruit clusters.

7. Although tomatoes are subject to pests, fungal diseases such as verticillium and anthracnose are far more common. The reasons for rules #1, 2, and 5 are to  prevent fungal diseases from taking hold.

I wish you all good fruit set, not too much rain in August, and lots of delicious tomatoes throughout the summer and early fall.

 

How about growing this: Wild quinine

Wild quinine (Parthenium integrifolium) is an extremely tough perennial native to the entire eastern half of North America. Its preferred site has full sun and dry soil. It grows about 3′ tall, blooms from late June through fall, and is completely immune to pests and diseases. I love to mix it into my prairie gardens, because the extremely long-lasting white flowers make a wonderful contrast to the vivid yellows, pinks, and purples of most native perennials. While it’s not particularly show, it’s a useful cut flower, because the individual flowers are very long-lived.

According to the USDA Plant Guide, native Americans used the leaves of wild quinine to treat burns and the roots to treat dysentery.  This is not a plant that spreads quickly, either by seed or rhizomes, although once established it is quite carefree. It is listed as threatened in several Midwestern states. It’s available from several reputable native plant nurseries, including Prairie Nursery. When you do your garden planning for next season, consider wild quinine as part of your native perennial garden.

7/26/13: In the garden this week

The first sunflower (a perennial species, downy sunflower or Helianthus mollis) opened in my garden a day or so ago. Native perennial sunflowers are much easier to grow than the annuals that most people think of as sunflowers. The perennials are back-of-the-border plants that grow up to about 6′ tall and will bloom through October. Goldfinches and other small birds will hang from the seedheads upside down to eat the nutritious small seeds.

It’s National Moth Week! Moths are the very important class of pollinators we rarely see, because they do their thing at night. Check out some fascinating information about these vital and beautiful creatures.

It looks like moderate temperatures and rainfall will stay with us for the next week or so, so there will be plenty of opportunities to enjoy the garden and maybe even to get some chores done:

– keep the grass long (3″ or more) to reduce mowing times. Mow with a mulching mower and leave the clippings on the lawn, where they will serve as natural fertilizer. There is no need to fertilize or water. We had approximately 3″ of rain over the past week.

– as perennials finish blooming, leave the dead flowers on the plants. Collect seeds as they ripen throughout the season; let most remain to feed the birds next winter. I deadhead only when all seeds have ripened. For most perennials, I will not remove any growth until early next spring.

– continue to plant beans, kale, chard, and other members of the brassica clan if you have room; harvest squash and beans before they get large and tough. Pull up bean plants when they stop producing.

– continue to stake tomato plants firmly as they grow and remove all suckers. Now that plants are producing fruit, cut back on watering to prevent cracking.

– monitor the garden carefully for pests and diseases; high rainfall in June and high humidity in July are leading to fungal diseases, although most are not severe enough to threaten a plant’s health (more on that in a future post). Identify pests before taking action: most insects are harmless or even beneficial.

— take advantage of the relatively cool weather to do garden chores: carry out remedial or cosmetic pruning as needed, check the compost pile to see if the compost is cooked. Because of the very hot weather, I suddenly have a large load of compost ready to screen and spread on the vegetable garden.

Get out there and enjoy the garden this weekend!

Heat stress

We were away from home for five days during last week’s extreme heat wave, so my shrubs, trees, and perennials received no watering (I do not have a sprinkler system). Yet they came through it just fine, because they are native to this area and well-adapted to my site. In other words, I don’t try to grow shade plants in the sun, or wetland plants in dry sandy soil, or tropical annuals in a temperate zone with extreme temperature changes. So once my plants are well-established, they can do without supplemental watering. Of course, if I had planted any shrubs or trees this year, I would be watering them throughout the season during dry spells. But established woody plants and perennials rarely need to be watered.

Annuals and potted plants are different. Because I knew the heat wave would continue while I was gone, I thoroughly watered both the potted herbs and the vegetable garden before I left: I watered the pots until the water ran through the bottoms, and I gave the vegetable garden about an inch and a half of water the morning I left. The vegetable garden did just fine, although I lost one pot of herbs, the smallest pot, which contained oregano and dill. Poor things.

I did see a bit of heat stress on some woody shrubs, but it’s nothing the plants can’t survive. Both spicebush (Lindera benzoin) and flowering dogwood (Cornus florida) lost some lower leaves, but as the pictures show, the growing tips remain healthy. They’ll both be just fine.

The perennial garden, made up of tough sun- and heat-loving native prairie plants, couldn’t be happier, no matter how hot it gets. But I certainly have to thin out some of those Rudbeckias next spring.

Planting natives is xeriscaping and sustainable gardening at its simplest.

And what about the lawn? We never water it, and it’s still quite green. We’ve had plenty of rain this season.

Plants as sculpture

I know that what my readers really want to know about is how to grow tomatoes. And I’ll get back to that in a couple of days. But I’m just back from California, and I have two posts to share about that trip before I get back to how to grow vegetables and eastern natives.

We spent an afternoon at the Norton Simon Museum, one of the best small museums I’ve ever seen. I had been there before, but I’d never seen the sculpture garden. It’s a gorgeous space, with varied and mature plantings and lots of dappled sun and shade, but what particularly struck me was the use of plants as sculpture. The garden is designed so that the plants’ three-dimensional forms are emphasized, and the actual sculptures blend into the plantings as just another element in a harmonious and but extremely visually interesting space. Here are a few photos that give the general idea. The sculptures aren’t exactly hidden, but they are certainly placed so that they are parts of a pleasing whole rather than focal points.

I don’t think I’ll ever be asked to design a sculpture garden, but I certainly learned a lot about using plants in a way that emphasizes their solidity and shape and forms. Fascinating.

 

Xeriscaping

“Xeriscaping” means gardening in ways that reduce the need for supplemental water. Some of these ways include using lots of mulch, avoiding water-hungry plants like lawn grass and annuals, and, above all, choosing plants that are well adapted to the local conditions.

I’m on a brief trip to Southern California, where the climate and environment and plant life are all so different from those of the northeast that it all almost looks to me like another planet. Geraniums (Pelargoniums) and Salvias are shrubs here, and crape myrtles (Lagerstroemias) are small trees. This is a subtropical desert. Yet people persist in planting lawns composed of northern European cool-season grasses and annuals that require lots of water.

The two pictures above show two adjacent suburban front yards in Valley Glen, California. The one on the left, planted with annuals requires copious amounts of water to keep looking good. The one on the right, planted with desert plants, is an example of xeriscaping. To me, they’re are equally attractive, but one is easier and cheaper to maintain as well as much friendlier to the environment. Just a little something to think about.

Summertime (II)

To me, summertime in the garden is all about the promise of autumn. In my garden, sweet joe-pye weed (Eupatorium purpureum) is just coming into bloom. The plants are not expending all that energy to look pretty for us. They’re doing it to attract pollinators, which will allow them to produce seed. For plants, as for most living things, it’s all about the next generation. They do it all for the children.

Different types of plants have different strategies for reproducing. This picture shows little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), two different individuals with different colorations, just putting up their flower stalks. Little bluestem is one of the dominant plants of the midwestern prairies, but in nature it occurs frequently in the northeast as well. It’s an extremely tough, drought-resistant, deer-resistant plant that grows no more than 3′ high and has beautiful fall color. An excellent choice for the perennial border.

Grasses are pollinated by the wind, not by insects. There are two major groupings of flowering plants, dicots and monocots, named for the number of embryo leaves contained in their seeds. Grasses, bamboos (which are grasses), sedges, palm trees, orchids, and lilies are all monocots. They evolved more recently than dicots, which include most of the trees, shrubs, perennials, and annuals we are most familier with.  Take a close look look at the flowers of grasses sometime and see how different they are from the flowers of, say, roses or violets. You’ll have to take a very close look because the flowers are generally quite small.

Purple lovegrass (Eragrostis spectabilis) is just coming into bloom, and this is a sight as spectacular as its species name implies. Note the lavender flower buds. This short grass (6-8″) still grows along roadsides throughout the northeast but is hard to find in nurseries. After looking for it in vain for years, I finally realized that it was growing in my front yard, dug it up, and now enjoy it in my perennial border. Look for roadsides carpeted in lavender haze in late July and early August–that’s purple lovegrass.

Another plant I eagerly anticipate each summer is my favorite Rudbeckia, R. triloba (brown-eyed susan). Isn’t it lovely (this one is the first to open–the flower will be larger in a day or so)? This plant is shorter (usually about 3′) than most other Rudbeckias, the flowers are smaller and Crayola orange-yellow, and they can only be described as adorable. The plant will bloom until first frost.

This post is all about fruition (or at least it started out that way), so it’s appropriate to end with a fruit. Do you remember New Jersey tea (Ceanothus americanus)? This is its fruit capsule, and it’s quite strange looking. Definitely not a member of the rose family! These capsules will gradually turn brown. They contains hundreds of tiny seeds that are typically dispersed by birds and small mammals. The seeds are hard to germinate–like the seeds of many other trees and shrubs, they must pass through the gut of an animal before they can germinate.

We’ll be in southern California for a few days–a completely different climate and environment than my beloved northeast, but I’ll try to check out some native plants and farmer’s markets while I’m there.

 

Summertime (I)

We’re approaching the height of summer, and the garden is blooming almost aggressively. Tomatoes are ripening–finally–and the weather is hot. (My apologies to the great Ira Gershwin.) The picture above features Rudbeckia subtomentosa, sweet black-eyed Susan, which I really must cut back severely next spring; Vernonia fasciculata, ironweed (purple); and some perennial sunflowers not yet in bloom (Helanthus mollis, downy sunflower). Today I saw goldfinches for the first time this season. These late breeders arrive when the prairie plants are ready to set seed, and they feed the seeds to their babies. They’ll be with us for the rest of the summer, hanging upside down on seedheads and providing great entertainment.

The fruits on my native plum trees (Prunus americana) are finally ripening–notice the first hints of yellow. They first turn yellow, then red, and finally purple. As with most wild fruits, they ripen one-by-one, and we’ll almost never see a ripe one. The plum crop is heavy this year, but the birds get up earlier than I do.

Another plant that ripens its fruit one by one is grey dogwood (Cornus racemosa). This shrub is beautiful in all seasons, but I particularly love those red stems that signal to the birds that the fruits are almost ripe. The berries turn white when they’re ready to eat; as with the plums, we almost never see a ripe one.

Almost hidden among the Rudbeckias are the unripe seedpods of swamp milkweed (Asclepias  incarnata). When the seeds are mature, in another month or so, the pods will dry up and split open, and the seeds will drift away, each attached to a tiny parachute of milkweed down.

This year also promises to be a bountiful one for elderberries (Sambucus canadensis). Notice that the stems are turning purple–the fruit will ripen soon. This is another favorite of the birds, and there will be great exultation among the catbirds when the fruit are ripe. I can usually manage to pick some of these, however,–perhaps to put in the Aronia jam I hope to make later in the season.

I have not seen any monarchs this year, and this is the time they usually migrate through. I am seeing a great abundance of fireflies, however, and I think of the presence of these delightful insects as a sign of a relatively healthy environment. Do you see lots of fireflies on your property? If you do, good for you. If you don’t, you might want to think about trying to manage your yard in a more sustainable way.

Environmental news

It’s much, much too hot to be in the garden. Even the dog wants to get back in the house as soon as possible. So here’s a roundup of some recent environmental news about the topics of this blog–the local environment and sustainability .

The Welikia project is an ongoing effort to map the environment of New York City in 1609, the year of first European contact (if you have up in New York City, as I did, you know that Verrazano explored the harbor in 1524 and Henry Hudson, sailing for the Dutch, followed in 1609, made not especially friendly contact with the native people, and claimed the area for Holland, and that settlement followed only a few years later). Welikia, which will eventually cover all five boroughs of today’s NYC, follows the very interesting Mannahatta Project, which mapped and described the original topography and ecology of Manhattan Island. Mannahatta resulted in several fascinating museum exhibits as well as an excellent book. In 1609, Manhattan was such a beautiful and ecologically diverse place that it would have rivaled the places that later became our iconic western national parks. I encourage you to check out this fascinating project and learn more about the natural history of the area.

Last week’s NY Times food section–not usually the place to find information about gardening or ecology–included a fascinating article on a scientist’s quest to develop a new variety of broccoli suitable for small-scale agriculture. It seems that broccoli doesn’t grow well in hot temperatures, and most regions of the United States have very hot summers. So the vast majority of the broccoli we eat comes from just one place, a temperate area in California. The broccoli is then shipped all over the country. It takes about five days to reach us here on the east coast, and by that time it tastes nothing like fresh broccoli. The solution? Develop a variety that grows well in heat and that can therefore be grown all over the country, by small farmers, close to the eventual consumer. Once this variety is widely available, which will be in just a few years, it will be a great boon to small farmers who supply farmers markets everywhere.

Also from the NY Times, a recent article on a new way to reduce the number of deer plaguing our suburban environment. (Here in the northeast, because of a lack of natural predators, the ever-increasing deer population is a real problem. As a horticulturist, the first question most new clients ask me is, “What can I plant that the deer don’t eat?” And there are some good answers, but no perfect ones. There are a lot of deer, and in winter they get very hungry.) This new method involves a contraceptive made using the deer’s own immune system and it is both safe and effective. It’s being tested in several communities across the Hudson in NY, and I hope it’s in use here in New Jersey very soon.

Finally, news about the American chestnut tree, the giant of the northeastern forests that was felled by a blight introduced when Asian chestnuts were imported into this country early in the 20th century. Two teams of researchers are working to introduce resistance chestnut trees, one using conventional hybridization techniques and one using the tools of biotechnology. The chestnut once dominated our eastern forests from Georgia to Maine. Perhaps we will see these majestic trees once more in our lifetimes.