Sunday, November 16, 2014

WELCOME TO... THE TWILIGHT ZONE... UMMM WAIT, I MEAN MY GARDEN



There was a time, early on in my plant obsession, when I believed that gardening had an endgame. That someday, when I had achieved my idealized vision, I would stop, step back, take a deep breath, and say "done." and while I am still motivated by, well, now what is admittedly a much less idealized vision, I realize that it will forever be a moving target that is just beyond the mind's horizon. Gardening, in many ways, is (borrowing a line from William Cullina) "sowing the seeds of your own immortality." For at some point, all garden's will lose their gardner... and then what? To garden blindly, is to run in place as fast as you can go and then be surprised when you haven't gotten anywhere. You blink and suddenly you arrive at the end of a pointless race spent weeding, planting, deadheading, and fertilizing and come to the sad realization that you have accomplished next to nothing, and when you no longer have the capacity or resources to fuss and primp your work disintegrates before your eyes.

The "and then what moment" luckily happened early on (relatively) for me, around my early middle school years when I was going through a bit of a miniature rose phase.... yes, I know, tasteless, but I embrace it as part of my evolution as a plant geek. It was mid spring and I had just set my miniature rose de jour out in the garden.'Stars 'n' Stripes', with flowers that looked like they were plucked right from that scene in Alice in Wonderland where the Red Queen's guards were sloppily painting the roses (although that might have just been in the Disney version, I never did read the book); white with bright red streaks, about as gaudy and unnatural looking as one would hope a flower to be.


Rosa x 'Stars N' Stripes' - Stars N' Stripes Miniature Rose
This little guy is more of a pet than a plant so consider yourself warned.
Zone: 6-10

Purchase from: Heirloom Roses, David Austin Roses

After a week or two of being outside in a humid New England summer, the ill-fated rose promptly contracted blackspot, and dropped nearly 90% of it's leaves. I, being the nurturer that I am, gently dug him up, potted him, and begun a daily spray application of some home made baking soda concoction that was suppose to help with the black spot. It did help, and eventually new leaves took the place of the ones that were lost, and in a week or two, my baby was back to his full and bushy self. At this point I started to lay off the spraying.... and in a few days the blackspot immediately came back. I went through a few months of this... I'd coddle the rose back to a respectable state, stop coddling, the blackspot would come back, and I'd go back to coddling. By the time September rolled around and I was on the fourth or fifth cycle of blackspot I took a good hard look at the sad sickly little rose, with a few blooms teetering out on the end of bare stems, and just thought "WHY?" Why does it make sense to grow such a plant? One that, as soon as you put it out in the garden, not only does it not thrive, but needs constant intervention to simply survive. Needless to say, at the end of September I put the good ol' Stars N' Stripes' out of its misery, and it was laid to rest in the good ol' compost pile.

The older I've gotten the less and less tolerance I've had for coddling, as I've come to realize that establishing diverse and self sufficient plant communities takes time, especially when these communities include species that have life cycles that operate over decades and sometimes even centuries. My goals as a gardener have moved beyond the mere superficial display of ostentatious blooms, evenly clipped hedges and well manicured lawns that will cease to exist as soon as I leave the garden to its own devices. It is my hope that with careful research and planning I can engage and enhance the diversity of endemic natural communities around my home, and re-establish persistent and resilient plant populations that contribute to the richness and dynamism of these interwoven relationships. And while I may fail at my lofty and nebulous ambitions, it is my hope that the populations I help to re-establish will, rather than being a symbol of my own mortality, be the closest thing to immortality I can achieve, lasting through the generations, weaving and embedding themselves into the place I call home. So when no one is around who remembers me, and my name is forgotten, my memory will continue to quietly grow and thrive along side the plants I grew so many years before.

Monday, October 6, 2014

PENNSYLVANIA SEDGE, AND OTHER WAYS OF UNDERSTANDING THE UNIVERSE


Carex pennsylvanica - Pennsylvania Sedge, Oak Sedge
Zone: 4-7, although I've seen plenty of 3-8

Purchase from: Classy Groundcovers, Everwilde Farms, Greenwood Nursery, Morning Sky Greenery, Prairie Nursery, Prairie Moon Nursery, Santa Rosa Gardens, Shooting Star Nursery, Yellow Springs Farm

Well, at least the botanical universe anyway. In the last few years I've become enamored with Pennsylvania Sedge (Carex pensylvanica), but more importantly, its one of the first plants that made me realize that rarity and beauty aren't one in the same. This was one of the many native species I was first introduced to through the pages of a book, but unlike most of the species I read about, was pretty stunned to find this one growing in abundance along the shady-ish edges of the roads and highways around my home.

C. pensylvanica is one of those few gems that's at its best when its a bit neglected, growing in the in-between where its either a bit too shady, a bit too dry, or a bit too infertile for other plants to thrive. After seeing it where its happy, when it makes soft gently flowing drifts of vibrant green (or warmer slightly duller hues by the end of the season) it occurred to me that most of us landscape professionals are missing the point behind these and other naturally occurring scenes we try to recreate in our gardens, parks, and whatever other manufactured landscape might fill this list of three I'm failing to complete. And yes, we might be able to temporarily fabricate some poor imitation, but it is almost always temporary. What we fail to grasp with all our irrigation, fertilizers, and whatever other noxious chemicals we throw at our yards in a sad attempt to beautify them (I think I need to figure out some way to get around the list of three thing.....) is that these scenes exist as either a result of deficiency or of excess, and are sustainable and persistent not because of some nutritionally balanced, moderately moist, well drained soil, but usually because these environments have either too little or too much of something that suppresses the growth and vigor of other, less specialized species. While these natural scenes of, uuummm, let's call them deficit or surplus, aren't always the most diverse, they are almost always visually compelling.

In fact when we condition our soils, irrigate, and spray clouds of fungicides and pesticides in order to create the perfect garden, what we're actually doing is creating a perfect environment for generalists plant species, aka weeds. From an evolutionary perspective these weedy species have picked the opposite route of C. pensylvanica and in a fight to the death in an "ideal" garden setting the weeds will always win out. So if you've ever wondered why it's always the plants you don't want that always seem to out-compete the plants you want, its probably because you're creating the ideal environment for the unwanted guys; a fabricated moderate in-between that doesn't really exist in nature. The sad truth is, in an attempt to create a garden where everything grows well, the weeds will always grow best. So yes, while the desired plants may grow lushly for a bit while we hack back the thugs that pop up around them, it's only a matter of time before the thugs win out.

And so, in an attempt to embrace my own yards deficiencies, I'm converting the ratty lawn covered leach field at my parents into what will hopefully be a healthy, self sustaining colony of C. pensylvanica (update to follow). Given that the species is notoriously difficult to start from seed, and genetic diversity is never a bad thing in a population, I may have stopped at a few places along the highway and "borrowed" a few individuals to add to the colony to-be (I know, I know, I'm a terrible person). In my defense, like I said before, C. pensylvanica is nearly impossible to start from seed, and since local stock is a nearly impossible to come by, the only way I could get locally adpated plants was to, well...., collect locally adapted plants (side note.... am I going to hell?, jk, kinda, not really,... but I'm not, right?). And to allow for easy reporting to the local authorities I have documented my questionably legal sampling on my crappy camera phone. Anyway, here's hoping I don't go to jail for digging up what is to most people an otherwise boring looking grass.... but even if I do, TOTALLY worth it!.... I think?

Monday, September 1, 2014

BALANCE.... AND A BIT OF INDULGENCE



So my friends have often pointed out that my gardening philosophies (yes plural), seem to be in a constant state of contradiction. And while they may be right, I'd like to think it is only natural that some of my views change as I evolve as gardener and all around plant obsessed person, but ultimately, if we're being honest, gardening in itself is sort of a contradiction. For me at least, gardening has always existed in the foggy tension between "the cultivated" aka subjugation and "the wild" aka freedom, (see above illustration)..... Lean too far in one direction and its easy to become, well, let's say unbalanced.

Lately, I feel like I have been doing a bit too much rolling around in the weeds and am a pair of oversized cargo shorts away from having a bit too much in common with the lady on the left (but just to be clear I'd much rather have more in common with the woman on the left then the man on the right). As much as I still think its important to appreciate the plants that already grow in your own backyard, the simple truth is that part of the joy of gardening, and general plant appreciation, is discovering new and exotic things. So, for my own gardening sanity and life balance (and at least partially in the spirit of indulgence) I give you some of the cooler plants I have come across in the last few years that are (at least in my area) not well known. In my defense the discovery of some of the these plants came out of necessity in trying to combat deer, clay, and waterlogged soil, all of which seem to be in excess where ever I decide to garden.



Hymenocallis occidentalis var. occidentalis Synonym: H. caroliniana - Northern Spider Lily
Zones 5-?(the literature is all over the place with this one, have seen 8,9, and 10)
Purchase from: Missouri Wildflower Nursery, Munchkin Nursery, Niche Gardens, Sunshine Farm and Gardens

Out of all the plants I've come across in the last few years I am most excited about this one....excited is actually a bit of an understatement, elated.... or ecstatic maybe?, whatever the word I can't wait to try out this native-ish (lower Mississippi watershed) semi-aquatic plant. The flowers look like they belong in some exotic fairy tail, and the foliage looks very much like an amaryllis on steroids, which is actually quit apt considering it's in the amaryllis family. But, in short, a very tropical looking plant. This, coupled with and awesome adaptability to light, its tolerance of waterlogged soil, and its potential to be hardy through ZONE 5, and you have, by all appearance, the perfect plant. I'm a little worried it might fall into the "bit too good to be true" category, because if it is all its cracked up to be, why isn't everyone growing it?

SIDE NOTE: there seems to be some pretty extensive blurring between the various species of Hymenocallis (H. rotata, H. occidentalis, H. liriosme, and H. coronaria) and as far as I can tell they may all be one in the same, as flower and foliage seem to vary widely within each species, particularly in H. occidentalis. With that said, H. coronaria seems to be the easiest to identify among the group, being more robust in foliage and flower, but also an obligate aquatic and doesn't appear to be shade tolerant. However, it may be hardy to at least zone 6 and may be worth a try for northerns if you have a some shallow water with lots of sun.






Iris virginica 'Contraband Girl' - Contraband Girl Southern Blue Flag
Zones 5-9 (although came across a few zone 4s)
Purchase from: Niche Gardens, Plant Delights, Secret Garden Growers

So there's zero excuse to keep using Iris psuedoacorus now. This selection of our "native" iris, (using the word a bit loosely now) should be able to hold its own easily with the introduced Yellow Flag, and topping out at 6' with enough moisture, just as imposing. And why settle for yellow when you can have blue, well pink-violet at least. Just planted in the garden this year, fingers crossed I won't be a let down.




Sabal minor 'McCurtain'- McCurtain Dwarf Palmetto
Zones 5b-10 (possibly solid zone 5 once established)
Purchase from: Brian's Botanicals, Plant Delights Nursery, Alligator Alley

So this evergreen dwarf palm species is fairly typical of mixed hardwood swamps in the southeast, and while the generic species is only hardy to zone 7, a vigorous seed strain grown from the northern most population in McCurtain County, Oklahoma, has been known to withstand temperatures down to -24 degrees F . This strain may give the official cold hardiest palm (Rhapidophyllum hystrix, aka Needle Palm) a run for its money. Supposedly very adaptable to extremes in moisture and light, although when you push a plant's cold hardiness sometimes this adaptability is tempered. Hope to give this guy a try soon, but it's recommended to either spring plant or keep it in a pot for a year or two inside before leaving it outside year round; as in most plants, age increases cold hardiness. Its best to find a permanent place for this plant when you do plant it outside as the subterranean trunk makes it pretty damn difficult to transplant.





Salvia darcyi 'Vermilion Bluffs', Synonym: S. darcyi 'Pscarl'- Vermilion Bluffs Mexican Sage
Zones 5b-10

Purchase from: Flowers By The Sea, Nature Hills Nursery, Plant Delights Nursery, Sooner Plant Farm

I've always been a bit of a sucker for the stereotypical hummingbird plant, yet most of the hummingbird attracting salvias (S. greggii, S. microphylla, S. coccinea, and S. splendens) are not hardy here in a wet zone 6a. While this flaming red salvia certainly meets the cold hardy qualification, I'm a bit worried its one of those plants that tolerates the cold so long as the winter is dry. There are plenty of plants that do find in Denver, that will never make it here on the east coast. Hopefully this salvia doesn't fall into this category.




Napaea dioica - Glade Mallow
Zone: 3a-8b

Purchase from: Annie's Annuals, Everwilde Farms, Plant Delights Nursery, Prairie Moon

It's a Ligularia!, it's Macleaya!, it's a Saxifrage!..... it's a Napaea? For some reason this Great Lakes/Mid-Atlantic native has flown under the mainstream garden radar for the most part, and considering the only real demand that it has consistent moisture, I can't really figure out why its not more widely planted. A few of the images I've seen hint at a slug susceptibility, but if you're looking for an otherwise knockout foliage plant that doesn't demand much, look no further. While you wouldn't guess it to look, it's actually in the mallow family, and if you look closely at the end of the HUGE flowering stalk it sends up around early summer you can see the family resemblance.




Ribes x gordonianum (R. odoratum x R. sanguineum) - ?(Hybrid Flowering Currant)
Zone: 4-8

Purchase from: Digging Dog Nursery, Forest Farm Nursery, Dancing Oaks Nursery, Joy Creek Nursery

The truth is that anyone east of the Mississippi should be wary of planting any Ribes species given that its a primary host to White Pine Blister Rust. But given that the tough as nails R. odoratum, is one of the parents of R. x gordonianum and native throughout much of the east and provided you don't have any White Pines nearby (and its legal, in some states Ribes have been restricted or banned all together) this is the perfect native-ish shrub to break the onslaught of Forsythia, Quince, and Azalea that assaults our eyes come spring time. And, as a bonus, it provides an early nectar source for premature Hummers.

And in case this didn't satisfy your unusual plant appetite for the month check out this post from Green Sparrow Gardens.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

BUZZ BUZZ..... WAS?

When someone says "garden" the first thing that probably comes to mind is brightly colored flowers, maybe rows of plump, ripe tomatoes, or even the relentless weeds that inevitably, one day, will reclaim the land that is rightfully theirs.... but in some form or another, plants. And while plants are, in fact, entirely necessary in the creation of a garden, they certainly, at least for me, do not stand alone. Or to put it another way, a 6 pack of petunias and a bag of glowing orange mulch from Home Depot does not a garden make. The final and necessary ingredients come later, once the plants have settled in, and the neighbors start to take up residence. Whether it be bees, hummingbirds, butterflies, or praying mantis(manti?) there is something awe-inspiring about seeing the pieces that you put into place become working parts of a larger system. And so this week I celebrate the quint-essential representative of the 'living pieces' that make a garden a garden and turn what would otherwise be stagnant discrete parts into a complex dynamic web of amazing relationships. I give you the bee.



Unless you've been living in a cave somewhere a couple hundred feet underground you probably have noticed that bees have been quite the buzz (do your best to ignore my obvious and not so clever puns) as of late, but more specifically the beloved, but now very troubled Western Honey Bee (Apis mellifera). It seems lately, at least a few times a month I come across a story of how both the human race and the honey bees are undeniably doomed, DOOMED I SAY!!! In all seriousness though, it's pretty damn serious. And just in case you need an example of a real world illustration of why bees are so freakin important to begin with, take a look at Nature's Silence of the Bees (skip ahead to 38:36 to see the really scary part):



While this may be blasphemous to point out, the beloved Western Honey Bee, however integral to our modern way of life, was actually introduced to the Americas by european settlers, and and its effects on our endemic, less metropolitan members of the bee family, Apidae, have not been widely studied. However, with the menagerie of honey bee afflictions mounting, culminating in the now widely publicized colony collapse disorder (CCD) it might be time to take a closer look at our native bee species. This isn't by any means a call to write off the honey bee, but rather an opportunity to get more acquainted with our native bees and other pollinators.

My first introduction to the wide world of bees, outside of the honey and bumble, happened in the back seat of a car when I was a kid (insert joke here) when I noticed a poor, probably long dead but still brilliant emerald body of a female metallic sweat bee, genus Agapostemon (I found out later that only the female is fully iridescent)



It was fairly hard to miss, but for me, up to that point in my life the only awe-inspiring insects I was aware of were butterflies and the scarab beatle I saw on Aladdin, but this little deceased bee certainly rivaled any of the most beautiful butterflies I had seen up to that point. I, being the type of kid that I was, hauled the poor little lady around for at least a few days, asking every person of authority within earshot if they had ever seen anything so amazing, most of whom either ignored me, or gave me a disgusted look and told me that I shouldn't pick up dead things.

If I had found her today I could have avoided the dirty glances all together cause there are TONS of places online where you can find this stuff, but here's a shortlist of some of the better places:

BUGGUIDE
THE XERCES SOCIETY
DISCOVER LIFE
TYPES OF BEES, UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA EXTENSION

I'd try to give a brief synopsis of each native bee species we have in the northeast, but given my complete lack of expertise, and the fact that there are around 5,000 bees native to the U.S. – and about 400 to the northeast, this is more information than I'm willing to tackle.....but there were few things you could generalize about our native bees in this area:

- Aside from the native bumblebee the majority of our native species are solitary, meaning they do not live in hives.
- Most are very reluctant to sting.
- Their life cycle generally last only one year
- They are often able to fly and pollinate in much colder temperatures then the imported honeybee.

And for a bit more detailed information on our native bees check out this article from Northern Woodlands.

As one would suspect, it is the messy gardner that is the better gardner, or at least as far as our native pollinators are concerned. Old ratty stems, open soil, lawn weeds, and no pesticides are either beneficial or necessary for our native bees' survival and these are all elements that are less likely to be found in a "well-kept" garden. Its pretty simple actually, if you want more native bees, then us gardners just all need to calm the hell down (the humane society actually did a great job summing up a few ways to make your yard a bit more comfy for our native bees in this article). Here's also a list of pollinator friendly plants for the northeast compiled by the NRCS.

Furthermore, the same ecological principles that apply to gardening and large scale horticulture apply to our bee problem as well. The more of a monoculture we create, for example, the American Elm (Ulmus americana), the more susceptible to disease the species becomes. While this may be an oversimplification of what is happening to the honey bee, one way we can begin to help is stop relying on them for the sole pollination of the majority of our commercial crops. It's time we approach pollination holistically in the context of the larger systems under which we operate. The sooner we diversify and utilize local pollinators the sooner we help save the honey bee and promote the health of all bees and pollinators everywhere. And there are actually a few companies out there (Crown Bees, Beediverse, Arbico Organics, and Planet Natural) that have recognized this and are taking the first steps by selling pollinator alternatives.

FYI - If you're want to learn a bit more about our native bees and live in northeast MA or southern NH the Nashua River Watershed is hosting a lecture on native bees "Native Bees of Massachusetts, Their Diversity and Natural History" on Wednesday, July 30, from 7:00 to 8:30 p.m., at the NRWA River Resource Center, 592 Main Street (Rt.119) in Groton, MA. Get there if you can.

And to end this post I leave you with this message from BEEFRIENDLY.CA. Enjoy.



MORE POLLINATOR RESOURCES AND INFORMATION:
http://www.pollinator.org/
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/replacing-the-honeybee/
http://news.cornell.edu/stories/2011/10/native-bees-are-better-pollinators-honeybees
http://extension.psu.edu/plants/tree-fruit/news/2011/wild-bees-as-alternative-pollinators
http://ucanr.edu/delivers/?impact=305
http://www.thetrustees.org/what-we-care-about/the-natural-world/get-the-buzz.html
http://www.xerces.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/organic-farming-for-bees-xerces-society.pdf
http://www.bestbees.com/
http://www.honeybeegenetics.com/
http://www.glenn-apiaries.com/genetics.html
http://beeinformed.org/
http://www.ibra.org.uk/

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

RECOGNIZING THE LATENT EDEN


Solidago ?speciosa/nemoralis? - One day I'll learn each of the species.... hasn't happened just yet

I don't fault anyone for trying to achieve their idealized sense of beauty. We all do it, at least to a certain extent. Its human nature, but when this quest is mindless, in the pursuit of the unattainable and unsustainable, simply perpetuating an identity-less homogenized cultural standard, it erases the very things from which beauty is derived: the unique, the querky, and the off-kilter. This has become painfully apparent to me after getting a bit swept up in my own quest.

Since leaving for school..... almost ten years ago (deep sigh), and the gardens I puttered in growing up were slowly (or not so slowly) lost to the weeds, my attention was refocused on a rental property my parents owned (mainly because it was close to where I'm currently living, and also cause it had a yard.... something that probably won't be in my future for quite some time... damn student loans). While I have been gardening there for a few years now, my recent overly ambitious undertaking (involving a grant proposal, waaaay too many trips to local town government, and far too many flats of tiny plants) has not only made me question the project itself, but why I garden and to what end.

Unfortunately, in answering this question I've realized I'm guilty of the very thing I've often faulted others for doing ("perpetuating an identity-less homogenized cultural standard....."). While I take full responsibility for my own blind pursuit, I can't help but blame my education at least a little. In school I was bombarded with big projects, grand gardens, most of which were maintained by full time staff and often had the same financial resources at their disposal as some small towns. These designs are not only unattainable by the average person's standards (and I am most definitely below average), but unless you have a small personal fortune these landscape are unattainable by well, just about everyone's standards. Yet these handful of elite projects that are constantly regurgitated by academia somehow set the bar to which all others are measured.

While I realize I was educated as a landscape architect, and not a gardner, I believe it is impossible to separate the two; one informs the other. And ultimately, if my curriculum focused more on the small and intimate and less on the large and lofty I might have learned to look beyond my own preconceptions and keep them from blinding me from the innate beauty and value that already exists in the places I'm tasked with "improving." This realization hit me hard this spring in the varied forms of Serviceberry, Violets, and Goldenrod (and yes I know goldenrod flowers in late summer/fall).

The first slap was a bit delayed.... after buying a fancy selection of Serviceberry (Amelanchier sp.) a few years back ('Robin Hill' if I remember correctly) and patting myself on the back for picking such a great native plant it soon became thoroughly infested with cedar rust to the point where every square inch of new growth was covered with a delicate orange fuzz, not unlike our family's neon shag carpet we kept in the living room that I remember getting lost in when I was a toddler (I still say it was trying to eat me). No matter how much I fawned or trimmed it made no difference. Eventually I dug the whole thing up and moved it to where cedars weren't a problem. If I had spent a little less time patting myself on the back and a little more time getting to know the place that I was trying to "improve" I might have noticed the small silver-trunked multi-stemmed trees growing at the edges throughout the property. This tree was, of course, our endemic, cedar-rust resistant Serviceberry, growing happily, despite, the abundant red cedars growing nearby. It's been almost 5 years since I transplanted the tree. I just noticed the existing Serviceberries this year, and only because my dad pointed them out to me and asked me what they were. NOT ACCEPTABLE. NOT ACCEPTABLE AT ALL!!!


Amelanchier ?canadensis? - ditto

The second (not so delayed) slap in the face came after purchasing a packet of Confederate Violets (Viola soraria var./forma priceana or 'Priceana'), the white violet with blue throats that often dots lawns and yard edges in spring time. While some might consider it a weed, I've always gotten a little envious when I've seen it sprinkled in other peoples lawns. After being 100% certain that the rental property was completely violet free I decided to buy a packet of seeds. Sure enough, this spring, Confederate Violets seemed to spontaneously generate in every place I looked, blatantly mocking my ignorance and total lack of observation.


Viola sororia priceana and the additional seedlings that were entirely unnecessary

The third and final wake up call occured when I was pulling up "weeds" to make way for the new meadow plants that were part of the the grant project I worked so hard for. The majority of the "weeds" were a few species of Goldenrod (Solidago spp.) that were vigorously out-competing the young weak little guys that my family and I had planted the previous fall. About a half hour into it, I remembered the same spot, from years before, crowded with Goldenrod in full late summer glory, nearly glowing in the late afternoon light.... the same plants I was zealously yanking up to make way for the newer, shinier replacements that might not even survive the summer.


Hopefully it was worth it....

My education had lead me to believe that designing, and for that matter gardening, implies not only complete modification, but the grand imposition of beauty where it is lacking. While there are instances where this is true, the more experience I get the more I have come to believe that this definition is far from the only one. While, yes, the imposition of some foreign tectonic edifice is often impressive, it does little to reveal the true nature of a place. The most skillful designers use existing elements that are already in place and build on them. Whether through multiplication, or selective deletion, those designers I truly admire utilize a more delicate process. They celebrate and embrace the eccentricities of the spaces in which they create rather than ignore them. For if, in our quest for beauty, we continually destroy and erase more than we reveal and embrace, then not only do the ends fail to justify the means, but the only product of the process is discontent and waste. So the next time you have the urge to run down to your local nursery to buy a few gaudy plants to fill some empty void on your property (and maybe your soul as well) do your best to resist, even if only for a little bit, and take a walk around your yard, or maybe even across the street. See what's there and try to look at things with new eyes. You might realize you already have what you're looking for.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

MORE HYBRIDS..... MORE FREEDOM!!!!


I was super excited to find this article on NPR last Thursday and although it might be hard to pinpoint the beginning of a trend, I'd like to think the Open Source Seed Initiative is at least a hint of a larger societal backlash to the over patenting of plant varieties, cultivars and hybrids. While patent law is limited when it comes to plants, it is also often overly complicated (see BiOS) and seems to be developing in such a way that it often trumps on the rights of small plant breeders and the general welfare of the global community in order to protect those of financially minded private interests and large agribusiness (see "History of Seed Patents"). While I've probably seen one too many biased documentaries (If you haven't seen The Future of Food please watch it!!!), this overly complicated network of patents, and increasingly complicated patent law acts as not only a barrier to horticultural innovation ("Roses Puncture the Case for Plant Patents" @ Daily Yonder), but flies in the face of thousands of years of agricultural and horticultural tradition.

07/20/2014 - UPDATE: Just came across this posting from the awesome Joseph Tychonievich that demonstrates the real world implications of plant patent law.

And so, in celebration and recognition of the Open Source Seed Initiative, here is my yearly post on ideas for hybrids this season, as well as some updates on last years projects.

Callisia rosea x Tradescantia longipes


While this definitely falls under the category of "because I want to" the result could yield a real workhorse of a garden plant. Granted both of these plants are pretty awesome, each have few drawbacks that are perfectly complimented by the strengths of the other. I actually wasn't even aware of the southeastern US genus Callisia until the release this past year of "Morning Grace". Unfortunately, C. rosea, while often listed as being hardy to zone 5, is most likely only reliably hardy through zone 6 (if that). In addition, C. rosea seems to have an affinity for sandy soils and sun. T. longipes on the other hand is very cold hardy (solid zone 4), is adaptable to part shade as well as a range of soils, but unfortunately becomes rather rangy by the time the heat of the summer roles around (as is the case with most Tradescantia). I still have yet to find a source for this. Assuming I can locate T. longipes, the two together have the potential to produce some pretty amazing children (assuming the pairing produces any viable seed).


Opuntia humifusa x Opuntia ficus-indica


I have attempted a few times to eat the fruit from our native prickly pear (O. humifusa) that I have growing in my backyard back home, but, while the little flesh that is left after carefully dissecting the oddly shapped reddish uuum, i guess you'd call it a berry?, is quite yummy and a brilliant reddish fuschia color, it's mostly spines (technically glochids) on the outside and lots of seeds on the inside. A cross with the real thing (O. ficus-indica, the cactus that produces the big prickly pears you buy at the grocery store when they feel like offering something exotic) has the potential to produce a marginally to fully cold hardy individuals (zone 5/6) with relative moisture tolerance as well as larger (relative to O. humifusa) seedless fruit.


Ruellia strepens x Ruellia humillis


The genus Ruellia has long been known in the south (R. brittoniana, R. simplex), but until recently the only species offered by the industry that can be grown in the northeast has been Ruellia humillis. Unfortunately it doesn't really perform well unless it has full unadulterated sun. Why R. strepens (which is much more shade tolerant) hasn't caught on here in the Boston area is beyond me, (but based on the bits and pieces of information that are out there it may actually be too adaptable). Again much like the C. rosea and T. longipes cross, I was hoping this union might produce a good, reliable garden performer; adaptable, but not overly so, and sterile which often equates to more blooms for us and the bees.


Sophora (Styphnolobium) japonica x Calia (Sophora) secundiflora


The likelihood that I'd ever have a chance to get my hands on both these species is pretty unlikely, and even more unlikely that its going to happen this season, not to mention that S. japonica and C. secundiflora bloom at different times (S. japonica, late summer and C. secundiflora, mid spring). While the chance this cross is possible is pretty unlikely, a cross between these 2 species could hold the potential to produce an excellent urban street tree for the south, and potentially further north. S. japonica is already used throughout the northeast as an urban tree and is, overall, a tough, long lived tree, but can sometimes become a bit too large for the confined spaces its often planted in. S. secundifolia is a southeast native evergreen large shrub/small tree (unfortunately only hardy to zone 7b), but with both amazing drought and heat tolerance and beautiful short hanging lavender/purple flower clusters akin to wisteria. The pairing could result in an astounding multi-stemmed tree, with exceptional drought and heat tolerance, just the right size for urban spaces.


Hybrid Update:
While none of my projects yielded any results last year they're all still in the works, and hopefully, given that all the material I started growing last season has all successfully overwintered, I might actually get some seed to work with this year. Even the Passiflora lutea, that did absolutely nothing for me the previous summer, has already started growing with abandon (inside of course) so hopefully I'll get some blooms from it this year. And in a serendipitous turn of events I stumbled across an article on storing Passion flower pollen this past week. Hopefully one of my projects yields some results this year (even if its just seeds).



Monday, March 24, 2014

SUGAR SAUNA

We all say we like the seasons, and granted I know I would miss them if I ever moved away, but no one truly, I mean really truly, likes the cold that makes it all possible. Granted brisk weather can be nice in limited doses, when you can go outside for a bit and escape back to some place warm and cozy once you've had your fill. But to say we embrace the gray, stale, sub-freezing (or in some cases sub-zero) days of winter in the same way that we do fresh sunny days of spring is just being dishonest, delusional or both..... There is after all a pretty good reason why we don't all go on picnics in mid-February. But, while cold weather alone might be pretty unforgiving, there is absolutely nothing like the feeling of stepping out of the bitter cold into some place warm. It's this feeling that makes the cold not only tolerable, but well worth all the numb fingers and frozen boogers that comes along with the territory. Pair this juxtaposition with an intoxicatingly sweet fragrance and BOOM!, you got yourself one of the strongest memories I have from when I was growing up.



As it so happened one of my mom's best friend's family made maple syrup semi-professionally, and I was lucky enough to be able to tag along every so often when they tapped trees, granted I wasn't always super thrilled about it (there's only so much standing around in the damp March cold watching your friend's dad drill holes in trees that an 8 year old can take), but the part that made it all worth it came later when they actually got around to boiling the sap in the little sugarhouse they had built themselves. Given that this was really only a one person job (if that) I wasn't able to partake quite as often as the tree tapping, which made the times I actually got to go in the sugarhouse that much more awesome. There was one pretty damn cold and soggy night that stands out for me when I had come to stay the night and got sent down to the sugarhouse to help. The instant I opened to door to the little shack I was enveloped by a thick sugary steam. The contrast of going from a damp cold night (still plenty if snow on the ground mind you), to a relatively small, warm, nearly glowing space is pretty much indescribable, but an experience a highly recommend.



Unfortunately for me, and the rest of the northeastern United States, maple sugaring may be a dying industry. And while the science behind why this is happening involves a bit more detail than I am willing to go into on here.... if you want an in depth explaination you can find it here, here, or here. But the long and short of it is the sugaring industry is ultimately getting hit from both ends, the trees at the center of it all (Sugar Maples) are gradually getting more and more stressed with each passing growing season (which equates to less sugar production) and then the time to harvest (the time between when the sap first starts flowing and when the buds begin to break) is getting shorter and shorter. While this doesn't necessarily speak to the long term ecological viability of North-Eastern Sugar Maples (Acer saccharum) as a whole, it doesn't hurt to stop and appreciate the species before the industry moves north of the border all together.


Acer saccharum, Sugar Maple
Hardiness: Zone (3)4-8
Size: 60-75', spread is generally 2/3 the height, but vaiable.
Bark: Smooth and gray-brown in youth, furrowed and scaly in old age.
Purchase from: Clear Ridge Nursery, Cold Stream Farm, Forestfarm, Maple Creek Nursery, New England Wetland Plants Inc., Plant and Gnome, Shooting Star Nursery, Sooner Plant Farm, Toadshade Wildflower Farm, Tree Seeds for Sale, University of Idaho Forest Research Nursery, White Oak Nursery

As far as New England-i-ness goes this tree ranks right up there with Tsuga canadensis (Canadian Hemlock) and Betula populifolia (Gray Birch). In almost every quaint autumn image of some red, white-framed barn you can bet there's some sugar maple nearby in full fall regalia. Unfortunately for the horticulture industry sugar maples are not very accommodating when it comes to culture and they are particularly adverse to urban conditions (pollution, high ph, salt, heavily compacted and/or overly saturated soils). But, as long as you meet its basic needs, Sugar Maples will prove to be a top notch and long lived shade trees. One should be aware, when considering cultivars, that the species has a few kissing cousins that often contribute to (or in some instances actually are) misnamed cultivars of A. saccharum. The most common culprit often mislabeled as A. saccharum is A. nigrum (Black Maple) which has a similar distribution to the species and is often quite difficult to identify. According to the literature this tree is a bit more forgiving of inhospitable growing conditions. The other two species (A. barbatum and A. leucoderme) are southern representatives of the sugar maple clan and are sometimes listed as subspecies, but act more as smaller understory trees in their native ranges.

Despite the fact that A. saccharum will most likely never replace Honey Locust, or Bradford Pear as the next "go to" urban street tree there are quite a few cultivars out there and even though I can't say I've grown any of 'em thought I'd list a few of the standouts.

Cultivars:

Acer saccharum 'Crescendo' (aka 'Morton' also formerly listed as A. nigrum 'Morton')
Most likely derived from western seed stock. Good heat and drought tolerance.


Acer saccharum 'Caddo'
A general catchall used to describe stock derived from one of the western most populations of A. saccharum. Selections derived from this population exhibit superior drought and heat tolerance. Named cultivars include 'Flashfire,'aka 'JFS-Caddo2.'


Acer saccharum 'Laciniatum'
May not be a legitimate cultivar. This may be a general term for all wild individuals with deeply incised foliage.


Acer saccharum 'Legacy'
Based on all the literature, this seems to be one of the superior selections of sugar maple. Dense rounded outline. Thick waxy leaves. Good fall color and excelent drought resistance.

NO IMAGE
Acer saccharum 'Mountain Park'
A hardier selection (zone 3), with uniform branching and mildew resistant foliage. Briliant fall color.


Acer saccharum 'Northern Flare'
Another zone 3 selection tolerant of cold, heat, and drought. Good selection for the plain states.

NO IMAGE
Acer saccharum 'Summer Proof'
A heat tolerant wide-spreading selection. Does not suffer from windburn.


Acer saccharum 'Sweet Shadow'
Perhaps a vigorous selection of 'Laciniatum.' Rounded to vase shaped outline.


Acer saccharum 'Temple's upright'
One of the better upright selections, very narrow, with the unique characteristic of maintaining its central leader as it ages.


Acer saccharum 'Wright Brothers' (fomerly 'Moraine')
Another good zone 3 selection with excelent fall color

These and other cultivars of Sugar Maple can be purchased from these retail sources:
Forest Farm, Nature Hills, Sooner Plant Farm

BLOG UPDATE:
Saw this video this past week and I got a little sick.... I know it might have its place, but YUCK!!! (wait till the second half of the video)

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

PERSISTENCE, MOSS, MEXICAN JUMPING BEANS, AND OAKS..... (MOSTLY OAKS)

Humanity has a general tendency to confuse living with thriving... and this misconception bleeds in to our subconscious, trickles into our perceptions and blinds us to those fortunate individuals who have adopted a less auspicious way of living.... persisting. Persistence and the act of simply existing is, and seemingly increasingly so, under-rated. There's an unfortunate reason why the Rock Cap Moss (Dicranum) growing in the parking lot across from my apartment will never make the front cover of the new spring mail-order catalogue.



Somehow in our collective subconscious we've irrevocably linked persistence with insignificance. While this superficial linkage isn't surprising, it is beyond short sighted. Just because something exists outside of the human timescale doesn't make it less important, in fact it is often quite the contrary. For those individuals that persists beyond the short decades that humanity uses to measure our own mortality, they often possess an unparalleled resiliency that is honed over eons.

So in the spirit of resiliency and persistence, this week I honor the oaks I grew up with, after all, its this time of year where the end of winter is just barely in sight, where all you can do really is just persist, and oaks seem to be pretty damn good at it. Oaks as a genus have managed to spread themselves across the northern hemisphere from cool temperate to tropical areas. In eastern north america we have two distinct evolutionary groups: Red Oaks (Quercus, section Lobatae) and White Oaks (Quercus, section Quercus). The main difference being the time it takes for the acorns to mature (Red Oaks, 18 months and White Oaks, 6 months..... in case anyone cares). The genus itself branched off from the chestnuts (genus Castanea) around 60 millions years ago and during this time oaks have formed a pretty amazing relationship with a group of insects called gall wasps..... and if you'd ever wondered what the f$#@k Mexican jumping beans are, they're actually are a variety of oak gall. And before I go off on any more of tangent, here are the oaks of New England:


Quercus bicolor, Swamp White Oak
Height: 50-60'
Spread: 50-60'
Figured I'd start with one of the most ubiquitous oaks of my childhood (given that most of my childhood consisted of mucking around in the town swamp that was my backyard). If there ever were a symbol of persistence and resiliency this tree is it. Adaptable to a wide range of moisture levels, soil type, ph (acid to slightly alkaline), and temperature (one of the most cold hardy oaks next to burr oak), the only thing this tree isn't a fan of is shade. This and Q. macrocarpa hybridize readily in the wild. These hybrids, considering the traits of their parents, may hold significant horticultural value.
Purchase from: Cold Stream Farm Forest Farm, Maple Creek Nursery, Naturally Native Nursery, Nearly Native Nursery, New England Wetland Plants, Inc., Shooting Star Nursery, Sooner Plant Farm, White Oak Nursery


Quercus palustris, Pin Oak
Height: 60-70'
Spread: 25-40'
Another oak of swampy haunts, this oak is almost impossible to miss, even when speeding by it on the freeway during a blizzard (I speak from experience). While, as it ages, it loses its distinctive and strongly layered pyramidal structure, during the first 35 years or so of its life it adheres to this blueprint pretty rigidly. Great tree for fall color. Tolerant of wet soils, intolerant of high ph (typically, when you see a planted Pin Oak struggling in the landscape, it most likely has to do with high pH). Despite the ph sensitivity, one of the easiest of oaks to transplant.
Purchase from: Cold Stream Farm Forest Farm, Greenwood Nursery, Naturally Native Nursery, New England Wetland Plants, Inc., Shooting Star Nursery, Sooner Plant Farm, White Oak Nursery


Quercus ilicifolia, Bear or Scrub Oak
Height: less than 30'
Spread: less than 30'
Q. ilicifolia will probably never replace Honeylocust one of the worlds most popular street trees (it doesn't usually get much over 25 feet tall and always seems to have an excess of low hanging branches), but it is an interesting oak nonetheless. If you've ever driven around Cape Cod it's what makes Cape Cod so uuum.... aaaah, Cape Coddy? Given the harsh sterile dry environment it usually grows in, a younger tree can often look like much older than you would guess, despite its short stature. Additionally, given the overall proportions of the tree, I have often been fooled many times into thinking a 15-20 foot tree was at least twice its actual size.
Purchase from: Forest Farm, Nearly Native Nursery, Shooting Star Nursery


Quercus rubra, Red or Northern Red Oak
Height: 60-75'
Spread: 60-75'
If you say oak, at least in the northeast, the image that pops into peoples heads most likely is a near spitting image of a Red Oak (whether they realize it or not). As with pin oak, intolerant of high ph, but unlike pin oak, also intolerant of waterlogged soil. Prefers things on the drier side. Overall a beautiful long lived tree with decent fall color (but not quite as vibrant as Pin Oak.... think i might be preferential). For an oak, relatively easy to transplant.
Purchase from: Cold Stream Farm Forest Farm, Greenwood Nursery, Maple Creek Nursery, Naturally Native Nursery, Nearly Native Nursery, New England Wetland Plants, Inc., Sooner Plant Farm, White Oak Nursery


Quercus alba, White Oak
Height: 50-80'
Spread: 50-80'
A BIG oak, and big tree in general. I don't like to make wine comparisons, cause I really, eally hate wine, but at least in youth there is nothing special about this tree. Fall color is querky and unpredictable, and sometimes non-existant. But, if you are looking for something majestic (although you might have to wait a while) this is the oak for you. Almost as adaptable as swamp white, but minus the swamp part (won't tolerate water-logged soils).
Purchase from: Cold Stream Farm Forest Farm, Maple Creek Nursery, Naturally Native Nursery, White Oak Nursery


Quercus coccinea, Scarlet Oak
Height: 50-70'
Spread: 40-50'


Quercus velutina, Black Oak
Height: 50-70'
Spread: 40-50'

Sooo I have to be honest, I don't really know that much about these two oaks. Mainly because I'm still not entirely sure what the actual difference is between them. Neither are prevalent in Northern New England, and although I've seen both I don't remember anything particularly memorable about them. Leaves very much like pin oak, and similar in size... but like its other relative (Red Oak) both like it on the drier side. Also both difficult to transplant. On the plus side Q. coccinea has (as its name would suggest) brilliant fall color and while not exceptionally drought tolerant, Q. velutina supposedly performs pretty admirably in the heat of the south.
Purchase Q. coccinea from: Forest Farm, Shooting Star Nursery
Purchase Q. velutina from: New England Wetland Plants, Inc., Shooting Star Nursery


Quercus macrocarpa, Bur Oak
Height: 60-80'
Spread: 60-80'
This oak has a fairly curious distribution in New England and is limited to fairly isolated populations in the northern and western parts of the region. Beyond its interesting distribution, Q. macrocarpa, is pretty adaptable, almost to the extent of Q. bicolor, and while not as tolerant of water-logged soils, it has one of the widest ph tolerances of any of our native oaks. While this characteristic gives it great potential as an urban street tree, it is unfortunately extremely difficult to transplant onces it gets to any substantial size. This and Q. bicolor hybridize readily in the wild. These hybrids, considering the traits of their parents, may hold significant horticultural value.
Purchase from: Cold Stream Farm Forest Farm, Maple Creek Nursery, Shooting Star Nursery, Sooner Plant Farm, White Oak Nursery


Quercus muehlenbergii, Chinkapin or Yellow Chestnut Oak
Height: 40-60'
Spread: 50-70'
One of those oaks, that doesn't really look like an oak, and it gets its name from its former (now nearly extinct) distant second cousin twice removed, the American Chestnut, and like the once great American Chestnut, quite drought tolerant. Prefers well drained, sandy soils, and its ph adaptability is right up there with Q. macrocarpa.
Purchase from: Sooner Plant Farm, Lazy S'S Farm Nursery


Quercus prinus (syn. Q. montana), Chestnut or Basket Oak
Height: 60-70'
Spread: 60-70'
Similar to the above in leaf, and culture, but (at least according to Dirr) has a lot more potential as a cultivated tree, not only for general drought tolerance, but how well it seems to transplant. Slightly larger than Q. muehlenbergii, and leaves are a darker green. Also apparently hard to beat if you looking for edible acorns, apparently they're pretty good.
Purchase from: Forest Farm, Toadshade Wildflower Farm


Quercus phellos, Willow Oak
Height: 40-60'
Spread: 30-40'
And finally a very Un-New England oak, but after seeing it on the streets of Philadelphia growing in what could barely be called soil, looking happy and thriving it seemed wrong not to give it a shout-out. Despite reaching only as far north as Southern New York, Q. phellos (if the right stock is selected) can be hardy into zone 5. Stratified structure much like its relative (Q. palustris), but leaves more like the southern evergreen oaks (simple, narrowly elliptical).
Purchase from: Forest Farm, Greenwood Nursery, Shooting Star Nursery, Sooner Plant Farm

And all the other east coast oaks.....
Quercus imbricaria, Shingle Oak
Quercus marilandica, Blackjack Oak
Quercus michauxii, Swamp Chestnut Oak
Quercus nigra, Water Oak
Quercus prinoides Dwarf Chestnut Oak
Quercus stellata, Post Oak

And just in case you ever need a quick primer:

Sunday, February 2, 2014

SWAY, BOB, AND QUIVER - PART 2

And now for the second part of the installment...almost 4 months later. Ouch. I refuse to become one of those people who starts something and lets if fizzle and slowly die because of lack of commitment and discipline. Anyway enough about me!! Time for plants!!! Below each of the native grasses I've included direct links where you can get ahold of them if your interested. For non-natives (and some natives) I might try Bluestem Nursery, Digging Dog Nursery, Lazy S'S Farm Nursery and North Creek Nurseries (wholesale only).


GRASSES FOR DRY-MEDIUM SOIL IN FULL SUN
(over-looked these guys on my last post)


Elymus canadensis, Canada Wild Rye
Height: 2-5 ft
Spread: 2-3 ft
I came across the blue-leaved variant of this species (Elymus canadensis var. glaucifolius) with a stand of Viper's Bugloss this past summer. It's a rather unkempt cool season grass that goes to seed by late spring. The seed heads definitely add interest to a meadow planting and are a good option for massing as well, just may not be the best option for a specimen planting in a more formal landscape. Self-seeds when it's happy.
Purchase from: Agrecol, American Meadows, Blazing Star Nursery, Ever Wilde Farms, Ion Exchange Inc., Morning Sky Greenery, Naturally Native Nursery, Ohio Prairie Nursery, Prairie Moon Nursery, Prairie Nursery, Seed Balls, Shooting Star Nursery


Stipa capillata, Needle Grass
Height: 2-3 ft
Spread: 2-3 ft
After seeing too many luscious images of Stipa tenuissima (Mexican Feather Grass) and knowing full well it will probably never grow well (or at all) in the northeast I thought it was at least worth mentioning it's cousin from the steppes and slopes in Europe and Asia. A little coarser and larger in all aspects than S. tenuissima, but possesses the same silky gossamer like threads that make its counterpart so appealing. Given its range and distribution hopefully a little more cold hardy and a bit more tolerant of cooler temperatures.


GRASSES FOR DRY-MODERATE MOISTURE, AVERAGE SOILS, FULL-PART SUN



Briza media, Quaking Grass
Height: 2-3 ft
Spread: 1-1.5 ft
Soooo this guy is native to the UK, so if I had to guess not a great performer for us on the east coast. Again probably one of those plants that, because its so prevalent in Europe, infiltrates the literature here. But, if your looking for an informal grass with a kick-ass texture and live at a high altitude where summer heat and humidity aren't a problem feel free to give this grass a try.


Calamagrostis x acutiflora 'Karl Foerster,' Feather Reed Grass
Height: 3-5 ft
Spread: 1.5-2 ft
One of the few non-native grasses that I have a hard time complaining about. It's a hybrid (C. brachytricha x C. epigejos in case anyone cares), and as far as I can discern from the literature and observation, sterile. Durable, but not overly aggressive. Clumper. Tolerates clay and part shade, and less than ideal drainage and always seems to look good regardless of situation. More refined and as far as I'm concerned a much superior alternative to Miscanthus.


Deschampsia cespitosa and Deschampsia flexuosa, Wavy Hairgrass
Height: 1-1.5 ft
Spread: 1-1.5 ft
While very similar in appearance the main difference between these two species is range and distribution, which ultimately translates into heat tolerance. D. cespitosa has a more widely distributed and westerly range (and thus more heat tolerant, according to some sources zone 9) while D. flexuosa has almost an exclusively northeasterly one (and won't perform well south of zone 7). While I have yet to come across this grass in the landscape it is, at least according to the literature, and excellent cool season grass for dry semi-shade (will supposedly tolerate full shade but flowering will be greatly if not completely reduced).
Purchase from: Colonial Seed Company, Shooting Star Nursery, Toadshade Wildflower Farm

UPDATE (06-16-2014) - After my trip to Provincetown, MA I saw D. flexuosa all over the back dunes in nearly 100% sand baking in the sun. While the literature notes D. flexuosa as being quite shade tolerant I doubt, given its environment, that D. flexuosa would tolerate much shade or poorly drained soils, but if you got a hot spot with infertile, quickly draining soils I would definitely give D. flexuosa a try.

UPDATE (01-06-2015) - As usual I got into trouble for making final and broad generalizations about a species based on a few localized observations and a couple of offhand articles. As it turns out soon after making my declaration that D. flexuosa needed full sun to prosper, on my next trip to Cape Cod, I noticed D. flexuosa was a large component of the herbaceous understory, albeit much less floriferous than those individuals in full sun, but a main component nonetheless. So, while leaning on the side of observation rather than declaration, it appears that this grass will persist just fine with a considerable amount of shade, but flowering will be reduced. However, despite being tolerant of varying light conditions, given the common thread that links together all its natural habitat (almost pure sand), I would imagine the one thing this grass demands is well drained sandy soils. So if you got a bounty of clay, probs not the grass for you.:(


Elymus hystrix (syn. Hystrix patula), Eastern Bottlebrush Grass
Height: 2.5-3 ft
Spread: 1-1.5 ft
Perfect native grass for that trouble spot thats dry and semi-shaded (but not fully shaded). Might not be the greatest choice for a specimen, but certainly a great candidate for massing. Unfortunately, it's a cool season grass, so all bets are off when the summer heat rolls around. My guess is that as far as growth pattern and usefulness its very similar to Elymus canadensis, just more shade tolerant. Hopefully (given that I have yet to grown this plant myself) the seed heads maintain most of their integrity throughout the summer.
Purchase from: Agrecol, American Meadows, Blazing Star Nursery, Everwilde Farms, Ion Exchange Inc., Morning Sky Greenery, Naturally Native Nursery, Ohio Prairie Nursery, Prairie Moon Nursery, Prairie Nursery, Shooting Star Nursery, Toadshade Wildflower Farm


Molinia caerulea, Purple Moor Grass
Height: 2-2.5 ft
Spread: 2 ft
This grass seems to be everywhere in the literature, but still have yet to see a plant in the northeast. Have a feeling this is another one of those plants that does great over in maritime Europe where its native and because of its prevalence over there has infiltrated the literature over here, even though it might not perform well. But then again, maybe I just haven't been looking in the right places.


Pennisetum orientale, Pink Fountain Grass
Height: 2-3 ft
Spread: 2-3 ft
Medium to large. Have yet to grow this plant myself but seems to be an overall garden performer. Looks great in all the situations I've seen so long as the conditions are not to extreme. Not to wet, not to dry, well drained soil, moderate fertility, but definitely likes full sun. Way too many different cultivars.


Pennisetum alopecuroides, Fountain Grass
Height: 2.5-5 ft
Spread: 2.5-5 ft
A less regal, and a bit more drab version of P. orientale. While the straight species is actually larger than P. orientale, there are many compact and dwarf version that are quite popular in the trade.


Miscanthus sinensis, Maiden Grass
Height: 5-8 ft
Spread: 4-6 ft
Its hard to turn around in the northeast without bumping into this plant. Parking lots, parks, and gardens; its versatility, strongly clumping tendency, and nearly year round ornamental value make this grass hard to beat. While it has been reported as invasive (and its easy to believe given how easily it adapts to nearly every situation I have seen it in), I have yet to see a stray seedling or plant expand beyond the original area it was planted


Sesleria autumnalis, Autumn Moor Grass
Height: .75-1 ft
Spread: .5-1 ft
Again, here's a pretty good example of a grass that, while maybe great in the maritime Europe and pretty prevelant in the literature, will probably never make it here in the US. But if heat and humidity aren't a problem for you (for those who live at high altitudes) you may wanna check out this grass. Supposedly very durable, drought tolerant and great for trouble areas, but aside from flowering in autumn this is more of a "filler" plant. Good for informal areas and massing.


Sesleria caerulea, Blue Moor Grass
Height: .5-1 ft
Spread: .75-1 ft
A blueish, less drought tolerant, slightly more compact version of the previous plant. Again, as with the previous plant probably neither heat or humidity tolerant and will only do well in high altitude areas.


MODERATE-WET, AVERAGE-HEAVY SOILS, FULL SUN


Andropogon glomeratus, Bushy Bluestem
Height: 3-5 ft
Spread: 2-3 ft
Little Bluestem's little know moisture-loving cousin. I first encountered this plant when on a site visit at Martha's Vineyard at the edge of a interdunal pond along with Vaccinium macrocarpum, Iris prismatica, and Juncus effussus. In addition to the cool fluffy seed heads that are a bit reminiscent of Miscanthus, it holds up pretty well through the winter, and even takes on warm reddish tones with the cold weather. While I can't speak to its summer character, its winter interest alone is reason enough to grow this plant. A great plant for a sunny spot that too wet for other ornamental grasses.
Purchase from: Colonial Seed Company, Shooting Star Nursery


Calamagrostis brachytricha (C. arundinacea var. brachytricha), Reed Grass
Height: 3-4 ft
Spread: 2-3 ft
This plant is a bit of an enigma to me, given all of the images I've seen have been quite seductive, and based on what I've read should do really well here in the Northeast (even does well in clay supposedly), but I haven't come across it at any nursery or garden for that matter. If you happen to bump into it while perusing some mail order catalogue or while running down the deep deep rabbit hole that is the internet, it looks like a great pick for medium to wet soils, full sun to light shade.


Tripsacum dactyloides, Eastern Gamagrass
Height: 4-8 ft
Spread: 4-6 ft
If your looking for a native, adaptable, and bold alternative to Miscanthus, this grass definitely fits the bill. Almost tropical looking with its big imposing clumps, and in case bold foliage alone isn't enough of a selling point the interesting seed heads resemble its distant relative (corn) and definitely help to lighten up the big mass of foliage below. As an added bonus it takes part shade and occasional standing water. Unfortunately, it doesn't sound like it holds up very well past fall. Oh well, you can only ask for so much.
Purchase from: Etsy, Prairie Moon Nursery, Shooting Star Nursery


MODERATE-MOIST, LIGHT-AVERAGE SOILS, PART SHADE


Chasmanthium latifolium (syn. Uniola latifolia), Northern Sea Oats
Height: 2-5 ft
Spread: 1-2.5 ft
No ornamental grass list would be complete without this plant. My favorite of favorites (even if were just talking plants in general). Native, adaptable, graceful, and perfect for the northeast. Always looks great and begs to be touched. In its initial growth stages it looks very similar in form and coarsness to Spodiopogon sibiricus (see below) and even has that bamboo-like quality about it, but its distinguishing and key feature is the gently arching seed heads that sway and bob in even the slightest of breezes.
Puchase: Agrecol, American Meadows, Everwilde Farms, Ion Exchange Inc., Prairie Moon Nursery, Prairie Nursery, Shooting Star Nursery, Toadshade Wildflower Farm


Diarrhena americana, American Beakgrain
Height: 2-3 ft
Spread: 2-3 ft
I included this native mainly out of curiosity cause I had never heard of it prior to stumbling across it on the Missouri Botanic Garden's database. Doesn't seem to be much on it, but, from what I had gathered, it does seem to have significant value as both a restoration and forage species. In addition, its rhizomatous habit gives it great potential as a large, course ground cover for shady, not too dry woodlandish areas. As far as its ornamental value the verdict is still out. In some images the leaves look as glossy and green as a liriope (even the character looks rather similar) and in others it looks downright weedy. If I had to guess the habit is a function of environment. In the shade it persists as a glossy basal rosette, until it gets just enough sun that allows the plant to gather enough energy to bolt and set seed.
Purchase from: Agrecol, Prairie Moon Nursery, Shooting Star Nursery


Hakonechloa macra, Japanese Forest Grass
Height: 1-1.5 ft
Spacing: 1-2 ft
This is probably one of the most popular grasses for shade, and for good reason. While it pains me to admit it, texturally is hard to beat (native or not). Its layered arching blades that gently bend away from the center of the plant (usually asymmetrically) and bob in the breeze lend it a graceful airyness thats hard to find elsewhere. However, like many refined woodland perennials it does not tolerate extremes. Moderate light and moderate moisture suit it best and it will suffer at either end of the spectrum.


Spodiopogon sibiricus, Frost Grass
Height: 3-5 ft
Spread: 1.5-2 ft
This is another one I know zero about, but the pictures I've seen look too damn awesome not to give it a shout out. Reminds me a bit of Deer Tongue Grass before it gets gangly and transitions into its weedy stage. Has a very bambooish quality about it and the way its leaves are arranged and held nearly perpendicular to the stem give it a bold architectural quality that really makes a statement. But just when it seems like its getting a little to coarse its light airy plumes rise a good 1.5 ft above the mass of foliage to keep the plant from getting too heavy.