Native Vine for Bright Yellow Spring Flowers

Carolina Jessamine is currently beautifying waste places, chain link fences, and unkempt roadsides with its happy yellow flowers. Carolina Jessamine (sometimes labeled Carolina Jasmine) is Gelsemium sempervirens, pronounced gel-SEM-ee-um sem-per-VY-renz. Flowering is at peak right now in upstate South Carolina.

This native, semi-evergreen vine is a favorite of gardeners who want early spring color but do not want to construct supports for heavy vines. Tubular flowers have five petals and are one inch long, held either singly or in small clusters. Vines twine instead of adhering, so they can be induced to climb a solid board privacy fence by running clear monofilament (fishing line) horizontally and diagonally between small screw eyes. Vines may reach twenty feet in length after a couple of growing seasons. Without support, vines become more bush-like as a groundcover. They help prevent erosion when planted on steep banks, and they perform well on fences, deck posts, and trellises.

Carolina Jessamine is cold hardy in zones 6-10. It is undemanding about soil type and pH, but prefers full sun to flower abundantly. The narrow, glossy leaves take on a bronze or purple shade in cold weather. Skip the fertilizer to prevent over-abundant vine growth and fewer flowers. If the plant gets woody with age, blooming only at its upper reaches, renovate by a severe pruning. Take precautions to avoid skin exposure. The sap causes a rash in sensitive individuals.

NC State University reports that Carolina Jessamine is highly flammable and should not be planted within the defensible space of a home. Normally I would ignore such advice, but the recent wildfires all around southern NC and northern SC have led me to reevaluate some of my choices. (Buh-bye, eucalyptus and cross vine!)

All parts of the vine are toxic and can be fatal if ingested. Children who confuse it with honeysuckle can be poisoned by its strychnine-related toxins if they suck the nectar from flowers. This toxicity does not deter pollinators, who visit the flowers without apparent harm. Neither deer nor rabbits browse Carolina Jessamine.

 Carolina Jessamine is the state flower of South Carolina.

Lovely yellow flowers adorn a chain link fence along an interstate highway in Spartanburg, South Carolina.

This Carolina Jessamine has become shrub-like because it does not have anything vertical to support its climbing habit.

In this weed-invested median of a health-center parking lot, Carolina Jessamine grows atop juniper shrubs.

Stay tuned: Next week is a weed rant for aptly named Sticky Weed, also known as Velcro Weed, Catchweed Bedstraw, Sticky Willy, Cleavers, and a few other names I cannot put into print.

Spring Beauty In A Small Package

One precious plant I inherited when I married and moved to the country was a healthy group of Dwarf Flowering Almond. Prunus glandulosa is pronounced PROO-nus glan-dew-LO-suh, which sounds like a Harry Potter spell.

This time of the year, they have pink or white pom-pom flowers on leafless stems. The flowers last only two weeks or so, but what a show! Leaves enlarge after the flowers shed, and the rest of the year, there is nothing to admire. I prune mine down to the height of the adjacent Liriope groundcover (12-16 inches) as soon as the flowers disappear, just to disguise their homely appearance. I attempted to propagate these plants from cuttings but had no success.

When we moved to the current home, I brought along several plants of both the pink and the white. This is when I learned that they don’t enjoy relocation. I’m down to two pinks and two whites, which means that I give the survivors extra tender care. I have never seen Dwarf Flowering Almond for sale in local nurseries. It is available from online sources, but is not inexpensive. This plant is native to China, but has been grown in America for a long time. It was mentioned by Thomas Jefferson in 1794.

Left unpruned, Dwarf Flowering Almond will eventually reach a height of four feet. It does well in part sun to full sun, in zones 4-8, and is tolerant of any type of soil. While plants will tolerate limited drought, they are healthiest and look best grown in moderately moist soil. They will not tolerate a boggy soil.

Plants do not produce edible nuts. Dwarf Flowering Almond is a larval host plant for Eastern Tiger Swallowtail. Other butterflies visit the flowers and insects enjoy eating the leaves. By the time autumn arrives, the entire shrub can look tattered. Please keep this one away from dogs, cats, horses, and children. Leaves and stems contain cyanide compounds and can be deadly if ingested.

Pink double flowers on bare stems

Wild Garlic Woes

Ugly clumps of wild garlic leaves are marring the dormant zoysia grass around my home garden and the mixed grasses in my pasture. Wild garlic is Allium vineale, a member of the lily family. The strong oniony stench of bruised leaves is anything but lily-like. Mature leaves are 6 to 12 inches in length. Wild onion, Allium canadense, is similar in appearance but wild garlic has round, hollow stems while wild onion has flat leaves that are not hollow. Both these plants are winter perennials that emerge in late fall, grow throughout winter and early spring, then go dormant.

Wild garlic has a teardrop-shaped bulb with a fibrous mat of roots. If allowed to mature, stems will form flowers or bulblets at the top of the stem, resembling chives. Flowers may be pink, white, or lavender. If you decide to mow over the clump, do so before the flowers/bulblets have formed or you risk spreading the misery as seeds are discharged across your lawn.

Wild garlic will grow in any type of soil and any pH. It is both drought tolerant and bog tolerant. It prefers full sun but tolerates shade. It tolerates frosts and hard freezes.

Both wild garlic and wild onion resist eradication attempts. Years ago, I decided to ignore the clumps of wild garlic in my lawn since their appearance was short lived. Mistake! While the top growth is dormant, they are reproducing underground via bulb offsets. Without treatment, they come back larger and stronger from year to year.

“Treatment” can be chemical or manual. I always try to use a non-chemical approach as my first line of defense. Removal is a painstaking chore, best done after a soaking rain has softened the soil. In past years, I used an asparagus/knife weeder which resembles a long-handled screwdriver with a forked tip. My new tool of choice is a hori-hori. It has a wider forked blade that is serrated on one side with a sharp edge on the other. With the hori-hori, I am able to saw through sod and lift the entire clump of garlic bulbs, carefully ferret out the individual bulbs, then replace the lifted sod. The bulbs are further below soil surface than one might expect, so be prepared to dig several inches deep. Use a foam kneeling pad to save wear and tear on the body. Use disposable gloves to avoid stinky garlic hands.

If you choose to go the chemical route (and believe me, I’ve been there!), repeat applications of a nutsedge killer may be effective. In areas outside the lawn, a total vegetation, non-selective killer may be used. Because leaves are waxy, use a surfactant (a soluble product that makes the chemical spray adhere) to ensure lasting contact. Clemson University has an information sheet on best practices. Click HERE to read their information bulletin. There is NO effective pre-emergent herbicide.

While my war against wild garlic is purely for aesthetic reasons, farmers have a more serious concern. Cattle that eat wild garlic will produce garlic-flavored milk (yuck!) and poor-flavored meat. If it is harvested along with cereal grains, wild garlic causes an off flavor and even makes machinery gunk up. Farmers usually battle wild garlic with deep plowing in the fall, burying bulbs so deep underground that they cannot survive. Alternatively, or in addition to deep fall tillage, tilling can be done in the spring while the plants are small – one or two leaves. Simple mowing may weaken the plant, but it appears that frequent decapitation forces the underground bulb to become larger and larger. This is why I recommend hand digging with a tool rather than trying to pull them out. A broken stem leaves the enemy underground, gathering energy to rise again.

Old Fashioned Candytuft for Early Spring Flowers

Candytuft has been flowering in my garden since the second week of January. While the clusters of white flowers are on the small side, it is always nice to see signs of life when everything else is dormant or dead. Candytuft, Iberis sempervirens (pronounced eye-BEER-is sem-per-VY-renz) is used as a groundcover. Early in the year, the flowers can be sparse but as temperatures rise the blooms are so profuse that they almost conceal the dark green evergreen to semi-evergreen foliage.

Candytuft was widespread in gardens when I was a child, but it has fallen out of favor. I don’t understand why. This plant has a cast-iron constitution. Plants were not pampered at my childhood home. They did not receive fertilizer, soil amendments, or supplemental water. Instead, they went directly into unamended clay. And, for the most part, they thrived. Our foundation beds were edged with Candytuft. It put on a spring show, and then retired into obscurity the rest of the year, allowing attention to focus on the taller shrubs and foundation plantings.

Candytuft has a sprawling habit. Everywhere its stems fall onto soil, it will take root and slowly expand into a pretty edger. Leaves are leathery, narrow, and only an inch long. Flower clusters are about the size of a quarter coin. Candytuft prefers full sun and a neutral to slightly alkaline soil, although those in my childhood home were never limed and they did fine. Plant roots will rot in wet soils. They are hardy in zones 3-8, although they are only semi-evergreen in the colder zones.

Mature plants tend to open up a bit as stems elongate and spread horizontally. Trim with scissors or handheld pruners every 2-3 years to encourage branching and bushy new growth. A light trim when flowering is complete may result in repeat flowering. Plants can be used as a “spiller” in containers, or allowed to drape gracefully over the top of a wall.  Candytuft is rarely damaged by insects or disease. I would like to tell you that they are resistant to damage from deer or rabbits, but my neighbors tell me that their plants have been damaged occasionally, although not ravaged.

I have only seen two cultivars in garden centers: ‘Alexander White’ and ‘Purity.’ The smallest cultivars are ‘Whiteout’ (2-3 inches tall and 5 inches wide), ‘Little Gem’ and “Snowcushion.’

Candytuft is also available in an annual form, Iberis umbellata. It is easy to start from seed, and comes in shades of pink, lavender, purple, red, and white.

Three years ago, this was a 4-inch pot of Candytuft. I allowed stems to root into the surrounding mulch. It is now 30 inches across.

A close view of Candytuft flower

Choose Camellias for Winter Flowers

Hellebores, crocus, winter aconite, and early daffodils are making a show in my garden right now. Camellia japonica flowered, the blooms were blasted to ugly brown by a cold snap, and then dormant buds flowered for a repeat show. There are several species of Camellias, but the most common in southern gardens are Camellia japonica and Camellia sasanqua.

Camellia japonica (pronounced kah-MEE-lee-ah jah-PON-ih-kah) flowers in winter and early spring. It prefers partial shade to mostly shade. These evergreen, broadleaf shrubs are slow growing but make an excellent privacy hedge over time. Planted in a suitable location, they require little if any pruning. They will eventually reach 12 feet tall and up to 5 feet wide. Flowers are up to five inches across, in shades of pink, white, red, and variegated. Flowers can be single, double, formal double, with stamens visible or concealed by the petals. Blooms can be floated in a shallow bowl of water for an indoor arrangement. Shrubs with variegated flowers will occasionally have a few leaves that are mottled with yellow spots as well. This is not a cause for concern.

Camellia sasanqua (pronounced kah-MEE-lee-ah sah-SAN-kwah), sometimes called simply Sasanqua, blooms in late autumn to winter. It will tolerate more sun than C. japonica. It is a fast grower, reaching up to 14 feet tall and up to 7 feet wide. Sasanqua flowers and leaves are smaller than C. japonica. Flowers average 3 inches across, and single in form with yellow stamens. Flowers are pink, red, or white and petals are a bit ruffled. Blooms shed quickly, so they are not good in cut flower arrangements. Flowers appear on prior year’s growth, so avoid pruning for the best flower show.

Camellia japonica leaf on left. Camellia sasanqua leaf on right.

Both these species of Camellias are hardy in zones 7-9. They are adaptable to most soil types and acidic to neutral soils. Their thick evergreen foliage, their shiny leaves, and their resistance to deer damage make Camellias a good choice for southern gardens despite their susceptibility to several types of diseases and insects. Rake up and discard fallen flowers to reduce fungus issues. Clemson University has an excellent fact sheet on potential diseases, prevention, and treatment. Click HERE for their bulletin. Camellia’s dense canopy provides winter protection for songbirds.

Perfect Shrub For Lazy Gardeners

Gardeners’ shrub choices range from new introductions to time-proven plants that grew in our grandparents’ gardens. With numerous available selections, it should be easy to find something for foundation beds that is NOT boxwood or holly, but the search can still be challenging.  When I first encountered Distylium in the early 2000s, my reaction was, “meh.” Now that I have seen it in landscapes, it is one of my top recommendations for homeowners searching for low-maintenance shrubs. While it does not have showy flowers, Distylium checks almost every box to make it a gardener’s dream plant:  low-maintenance, evergreen, uniform appearance, deer-resistant, tolerant of heat, drought, and abuse. Distylium, occasionally called Blueleaf Isu, is available in a range of sizes to fit most foundation beds. It is adaptable to almost any soil type and acidity. And if it outgrows the available space, Distylium will tolerate a severe cutback without sulking.

Akin to witch hazel (the Hamamelis family), Distylium myricoides is spreading and shrublike with arching stems, while Distylium racemosum is more upright and a bit more cold-tolerant. Its mature leaves have a bluish tint and the flowers are slightly larger than D. myricoides. Distylium is flowering right now in upstate SC and western NC, but you can be forgiven if you walk by it and never notice the flowers. They are tiny, reddish, and underwhelming since they have no petals.

‘Vintage Jade’ flowers

Seek a cultivar with a mature height that will suit the intended location. ‘Vintage Jade’ is popular because its size (2 feet tall, up to 8 feet wide) allows the budget-conscious gardener to fill a large area with few plants. It is more cold-hardy than some and can even be used as a groundcover on slopes that make mowing uncomfortable. ‘Coppertone’ has warm bronze new growth that matures to blue-green. It is a dwarf, maturing at 4 feet tall and 5 feet wide, at most. ‘Cinnamon Girl’ is a dwarf with purplish new growth, maturing at no more than 3 feet tall and 4 feet wide. ‘Linebacker’ is the tallest variety I have seen, with mature height of 10 feet. Other cultivars are available; check labels to make the wisest selection.

Distylium prefers full sun but will tolerate partial shade. It is an open shrub but can be tip-pruned in early summer if you prefer a denser look. Plants are hardy in zones 6-9 and will grow in any soil, from clay to sand, and any non-extreme acidity level.

Distylium (pronounced dis-STY-lee-um) is a workhorse shrub that will work well as a foundation shrub, a living privacy fence, in a mixed border, or a specimen plant. It has few pest or disease problems, although it can be troubled by phytophthora root rot if placed into a soil where the pathogen is already present. Plants are reputed to be highly deer-resistant.

In winter, this grouping of Distylium looks fabulous between the yellow foliage of a conifer and the tan foliage of Miscanthus grass.

Winning The War Against Nutsedge

It’s time to start considering how to fight the horrible garden invader, nutsedge. Today’s guest blog is written by Skip Richter, Horticulturist & Host of GardenLine Radio on KTRH 740. He received his master’s degree in horticulture from Texas A&M University, “the source of all earthly knowledge”, and has served as a county horticulturist with Texas AgriLife Extension for 34 years in Montgomery, Travis, Harris, and Brazos County, advising home gardeners and the green industry on research-based horticultural practices. He has served as the National Gardening Association’s regional horticulturist for the southeastern U.S. and is a contributing editor to Texas Gardener magazine. He was selected as a Regents Service Fellow by the Texas A&M University System Board of Regents.

You can connect with him via:

Website: Gardening with Skip
Instagram:   gardenlinewithskip
Facebook:  GardenLineKTRH
YouTube:   @skiprgarden

Nutsedge (aka “nutgrass”) is not a grass, but rather a member of the sedge family. Listed as the #1 most-troublesome weed in the vegetable, turf and the ornamental categories by the Weed Science Society of America, to know nutsedge is to hate it.

Before we delve into how to control this weed from hell, let’s take a closer look at some important facts about nutsedge. There are two common types of nutsedge: purple nutsedge (Cyperus rotundus) and yellow nutsedge (Cyperus esculentus). They each have key differences that influence which control effort will be effective against them. 

Can’t beat ’em? Eat ’em!

There is a form of yellow nutsedge (known in various parts of the world as chufa, earth-almond and tiger nuts) that’s popular as a snack or mashed food. It is often used to create a sweet, milk-like beverage known as horchata de chufa. The tubers have even been found in Egyptian tombs dating to 3,000 BCE. I think that taking nutsedge with you to the grave is going a bit too far.

I once ordered and grew some chufa nuts (please don’t tell anybody) in my garden to compare them to our regular local yellow nutsedge. They produced tubers that were a bit larger but weren’t very impressive to the palate.

Tubers of our wild yellow nutsedge are also technically edible, with a mild almond-like taste. After chewing awhile, you give up and remove a bit of “sawdust” from your mouth. I’ll note here that edible and palatable are not synonymous. My favorite culinary assessment of yellow nutsedge tubers comes from a National Public Radio story, in which a taste-tester said of nutsedge tubers, “It doesn’t taste terrible.” High praise indeed.

Nutsedge development

Nutsedge often arrives in gardens, lawns and landscapes along with plants, topsoil and/or sod. New plants arise primarily from underground tubers rather than from seeds. Most tubers are found in the top eight inches of soil. But depending on the soil type and the nutsedge species, some tubers will be deeper.

Wet soil conditions wash a substance that inhibits sprouting from the skin of yellow nutsedge tubers, allowing them to sprout. This is one reason why yellow nutsedge proliferates and thrives in wet areas of a lawn or garden.

Nutsedge shoots emerge like pointed missiles from the ground and the leaves emerge from their protective sheath when each shoot reaches sunlight. This protective covering enables them to easily push up through soil or mulch, and even to poke through plastic sheeting and most landscape fabrics when these products are stretched tightly over the soil surface. Once the shoot reaches sunlight and the leaves emerge, and the plant is no longer able to punch through surface coverings.

When a nutsedge shoot reaches sunlight, the plant forms a bulb at its base that produces horizontal underground stems (rhizomes) with new tubers. These tubers can form additional tubers, as well. In one test, a single yellow-nutsedge tuber produced 6,900 tubers by fall and 1,900 daughter plants the following spring. This is one reason this plant is so difficult to control. Diligent efforts to prevent or greatly limit new tuber production are key to controlling nutsedge infestations.

Cultivation and hand-hoeing

Each tuber has approximately seven or more viable buds. So, any attempt at control (such as the ol’ garden hoe) chops off only one shoot; the tuber merely sends up another (after laughing hysterically at the gardener’s efforts). However, tubers expend stored energy to send up new shoots, so prompt removal of new shoots multiple times will weaken tubers and can decrease development of additional tubers.

For hoeing/hand-digging/tillage to be effective, one must remove plants before they have developed more than three-to-five leaves. If left longer, the plants will begin restoring the tuber’s spent reserves. Tubers expend a little over half of their stored energy to develop their first above-ground plant. Therefore, I cannot overstate the importance of constant surveillance and prompt digging or spraying to prevent tubers from replenishing their reserves.

Diligent efforts at frequent cultivation can outlast a tuber’s ability to regrow, but this type of diligent, prompt continual effort is seldom maintained. Control is further complicated by the fact that some dormant tubers are usually present to sprout over time. So, continue to look out for newly emerging nutsedge plants.

Combining control methods

Now that the nutsedge beast sounds impossible to defeat, let me say that it is not invincible. Difficult, yes; but not impossible. You can manage nutsedge, if you use a combination of practices and are consistent with prompt follow-up.

Non-chemical reduction of nutsedge in landscapes and garden beds involves the following practices. While all are not always possible, the more you can do, the better your results will be.
1. Avoid overwatering/saturated soil conditions, which stimulate yellow-nutsedge proliferation.
2. Hand-dig tubers, beginning when the shoots first emerge in spring. If you wait until mid- to late May to begin, you will likely have almost 10 times the number of nutsedge plants you began with. To be effective, repeat-digging is required whenever new plants have developed three-to-five leaves. If you wait longer, the plants will be producing new viable tubers.
3. Rototill the soil to sever rhizomes and bring tubers to the surface, exposing them to dry out. Rake and remove exposed tubers and rhizomes. Sun-drying is more effective against purple nutsedge than yellow nutsedge. Tilling breaks up the underground chain of the tubers on purple-nutsedge rhizomes, causing multiple dormant tubers in the chain to sprout. If you then promptly dig or spray the new sprouts, you can significantly reduce the infestation.
4. Cover future garden beds from spring to fall with a very dense, water-permeable landscape fabric to block out all sunlight. Don’t pull the fabric tightly over the soil surface or else new nutsedge shoots will puncture it. Keep soil moist to promote growth beneath the fabric, which depletes the tuber’s stored reserves.
In a study I conducted in Houston on purple nutsedge, plots were shaded with a loose covering of dense landscape fabric for the summer season. Shaded plots had a 24% decrease in tuber counts, while plots ex-posed to full sun had a 2,400% increase. Also, the 76% of tubers that remained were likely at least weakened, although we did not replant them to check this possibility. While shading won’t eradicate all tubers, it can significantly reduce the number of tubers and can be a helpful part of an organic regimen to manage nutsedge.
5. Solarizing heats the soil and can destroy tubers in the surface few inches. Temperatures over 112 degrees are lethal to tubers. Solarizing won’t destroy tubers deeper into the soil, but if preceded by deep tillage, the effectiveness of solarization can be increased. The clear plastic used in solarizing must be held above the soil surface to prevent it from being punctured.
6. Spray the plants with a systemic product beginning when the first shoots have three-to-five leaves. After the fifth-leaf stage, viable “daughter” plants will be forming on the rhizomes, which will not be effectively controlled by sprays to the original plant. Repeat sprays three-to-four weeks later as new nutsedge plants emerge and have three-to-five leaves.

Organic “top kill” products containing pelargonic acid, ammoniated nonanoate, plant essential oils and acetic acid (vinegar) will kill the weed’s top growth. But they do not do much to control nutsedge, unless accompanied by hand-hoeing.

Suggestions for using sprays

It has been my experience that sprays of glyphosate (such as Roundup and other examples) may kill back the above-ground parts of nutsedge plants but do not provide significant effective control of tubers. Preemergence herbicides used to prevent weed seeds from establishing new plants are of little benefit because nutsedge plants arise primarily from tubers, not from sprouting seeds.

Several products are available on the market to control nutsedge. Repeat applications will be required for effective control. The addition of a surfactant helps the spray stick to and penetrate the waxy nutsedge leaves more effectively. Note that Sedgehammer Plus already contains a surfactant. Note that some products can take two weeks to provide visible symptoms, so be patient. 

Carefully read and follow all directions on the herbicide label. Product formulation and labels can change. The label is the final authority, including over comments made in this article.

Drought stress results in poor nutsedge-control results. Avoid applications of postemergence products to turf stressed by drought or other factors, making it more susceptible to herbicide damage.

Wiper applicators can be helpful

When applying an herbicide product around desirable plants that may be adversely affected, it is best to use a wiper-type applicator to help avoid contact with desirable plants. Wipers apply a small amount of the herbicide directly onto the weed’s foliage, which outcome significantly limits pesticide application rates, environmental concerns and damage to desirable plants nearby. If you’d like to build a simple, inexpensive weed wiper, I have instructions on my website that include product-ingredient names for controlling various types of weeds and trade-name examples.

Nutsedge, although a tough, formidable foe, is not invincible. With diligent, determined, consistent efforts, it can be managed in a home garden and landscape. So, I’ll leave you with these immortal words from the venerated coach Knute Rockne, as they are fitting for the task at hand: “When we get them on the run once, we’re going to keep ’em on the run! … and don’t forget men, today is the day we’re going to win! They can’t lick us, and that’s how it goes! … go in there and fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” 

Get Ready to Weed and Prune

The best way to avoid weedy gardens is to start removing weeds early, while they are still small and easy to pull. While warm days tempt us to get a head start outdoors, winter still has plenty of punch left. What we can do right now, other than weeding, is prune shrubs and trees that flower on new growth. In my garden, that means Hibiscus syriacus (Rose of Sharon), Buddleia (Butterfly Bush), Roses, Callicarpa (Beautyberry), and Vitex agnus-castus (Chaste Tree) got a moderate pruning yesterday. Later this week, ‘Incrediball’® Hydrangea arborescens and Spirea will get their cutback also. Hydrangeas that flower on stems grown in the prior year (“old wood”), Forsythia, and Azaleas will wait until their blooms have appeared and faded before they get a trim. Do not cut back Artemisia or Lantana until you see evidence of new growth in spring. Any winter pruning may cause these two to die rather than return when weather warms.

Another plant group that received a chop this week are my grasses and grass-like groundcovers. I allow my Muhly grass (Muhlenbergia capillaris ‘White Cloud is my favorite) to remain full size through the entire winter so that I can enjoy the feathery plumes even after the seeds have blown away. Muhly grass looks neater when it is cut back before new growth begins, but please take care to not prune too short. A reduction by half will usually provide a good foundation for spring growth without damaging the crown. Pruning damage to the crown of the plant may stunt future growth or even kill the plant.

A properly pruned Muhly grass

An excellent space filler for zones 5–10 is Liriope, commonly known as Monkey Grass or Lilyturf. There are two types of Liriope. Liriope muscari is a clumping type that prefers full sun to part-shade. It forms a dense mound that enlarges slowly. Liriope spiciata is a spreading type that prefers part-shade to shade. It enlarges by undergrown rhizomes and will also reseed. If you need help remembering which is which, recall that spicata, spreading, and shade all start with the letter S. Both types may look better with a late winter cutback to remove damaged or diseased leaves.

As an inexperienced gardener, at Liriope pruning time I would raise my lawnmower to the highest blade setting, install the bagging attachment, and mow my Liriope beds. This worked okay for the first year or two, but then I noticed that I was scalping the middle of the clumps of my Liriope muscari. By midsummer, the scalped section looked tan and ugly – like giant green bagels. I have since learned that mature plants mound in the center as they become congested. Your choices are to either hand prune or to divide, separate, and re-plant. Hand pruning a large area can be hard on a gardener’s hands, but my husband gave me a battery-operated pruner last year that makes the task quick and easy. This is a must-have item for the serious gardener. Mine is a Dewalt, but there are many different name brands of this super tool and they all have a different balance point. Pick them up to determine which one is most comfortable to your hand.

You don’t want to miss next week’s guest blog by garden writer and horticulture consultant Robert “Skip” Richter. He is the host of GardenLine on KTRH 740 AM; Saturdays & Sundays 6-10 am. His website is Gardening with Skip. Next week’s blog will tell you everything you need to know about nutsedge.

Almost Time to Start Those Flower Seeds

My catalog seed orders have arrived. I’m always eager to get a head start on the garden season, and must force myself to not start them too early. Each flower seed packet will provide a guideline of when to start seeds. This is usually something like “6-8 weeks prior to the last spring frost,” meaning you count backwards from the frost date to the correct time to sow your seeds. This is a simple concept, but I find that using a printed calendar gives me a visual confirmation that I struggle to obtain when using the calendar function on my mobile phone. The frost date varies from area to area and the germination period will vary from plant to plant. If you don’t know your last average last frost, call your local Extension office and ask. In my area of the country, last frost date is April 15 but I always factor in where Easter falls on the calendar. If Easter is “late,” I delay my seed starting by an extra week. This year it falls on April 20, while some years it may fall in March. It is preferable to delay by a week than to risk transplanting your cherished seedlings outdoors to have them stunted by a late cold snap.

The tools for successful seed starting include: clean containers, good seed-starting medium, quality seeds, and warmth. (The need for light normally comes after germination.) Most big box stores and garden supply stores sell seed-starting kits, a waterproof tray that holds six or eight inserts, segregated into four or six sections. A complete kit may include soil and a plastic snap-on lid or dome cover to create a humid environment. It is easy to recycle plastic trays from year to year (I reuse those from plants I purchased in the past) but it is imperative that the recycled trays, dividers, and covers are clean. Before reusing old containers, I soak them for 30 minutes in a five-gallon bucket of bleach water (nine parts water to one part bleach), then rinse well and dry in the sun.

You can purchase starter items individually from better quality nurseries and farm supply stores: “flats,” soil containers that fit inside the flats (typically 4-packs, 6-packs, but can also be 128 plugs or other sizes), and plastic snap-on lids to retain heat and moisture.

Look for bags of “seed starter mix.” This is a very fine, lightweight soil-like substance that allows seeds to emerge with minimum effort. Fill packs with pre-moistened starter mix. If you cannot find seed starter mix, try vermiculite as a substitute. If the planting medium seems to shed water rather than absorbing it, either use hot water or add a drop of dishwashing detergent to the water used for dampening the mix. I prefer the hot water method, and usually dump a couple of cups of hot water directly into the bag and wait about 30 minutes for it to absorb, shaking the bag a few times for even distribution. Pack the damp mix into the containers, plant seeds at the depth recommended on the package, mist lightly (I use a spray bottle) to ensure seeds get wet, and top with a dusting of dry starter mix. Add water to the flat/tray holding the 4-packs or 6-packs. It will wick up to the seeds without displacing them. This is called “bottom watering.” Top watering (sprinkling the top) can displace seeds or wash them too deep into the starter mix. Give seedlings enough water to keep them from drying out but don’t allow the medium to be so wet that it appears shiny. Too much water can cause seeds to rot, invites gnats, and offers an hospitable environment for fungus growth.

Start with high quality seeds. You can purchase new packages each year, or use leftovers from the prior year, as long as the seeds were stored in a cool, dark, dry place. Some seeds will last several years (tomatoes) while others get stale quickly and should be purchased fresh each year (lettuce, parsley). And a few plants are more successful when started directly in the ground (“in situ”) than from transplants. The seed packet will state “best started outdoors” for these.

A few seeds need light to germinate, while others need total darkness. These seeds must be exposed to light in order to germinate: African Violet, Ageratum, Artemesia, Begonia, Bells of Ireland, Browallia, Chinese Lanterns, Coleus, Coreopsis (Tickseed), Dusty Miller, Aquilegia (Columbine), Gaillardia, Geranium, Heuchera (Coral Bell), Impatiens, Lychnis (Lamb’s Ears), Nicotiana, Penstemon, Pentas, Petunia, Platycodon (Balloon flower),  Poppies, Portulaca, Primrose, Snapdragon.

The following seeds need darkness to germinate: ) Armeria, Calendula, Catharanthus (Periwinkle), Centaurea, Delphinium, Echinacea (Coneflower), Gazania, Nasturtium, Tithonia (Mexican Sunflower).  

African violet, petunia, and wax begonia have such tiny seeds that I prefer to purchase plants rather than start them myself.

Reusing starter trays and packs without sterilizing them may introduce pathogens that will kill off your precious seedlings. It is heartbreaking to see a flat of new seedlings succumb, overnight it seems, to “damping off.” This condition makes stems look like they have been pinched. Once the stem develops this thin, pinched-looking spot, there is no recovery. Remove the seedling and its soil as quickly as possible, to prevent fungal spores from spreading to healthy plants. Prevent damping off by using clean containers, avoiding overwatering, and providing good air circulation.

Certain seeds (zinnia is one) resent root disturbance so much that they are happiest when sown in peat pots rather than in plastic packs. Once the seedling has emerged, the entire pot is planted outdoors and it breaks down in the soil. I have read concerning reports about the dwindling supplies of natural peat, and last year I spotted a new type of “peat” pot that is manufactured from sawdust (of which there is NO shortage). I trialed them in my own seed starts and found them to be equal to peat in every way, so will continue to seek these out.

Peat-free starter pots for seedlings which resent root disturbance

Warm temperatures make seeds germinate faster. Soil heating mats are available online and in nurseries that sell seed starting supplies. These are designed to raise the soil temperature about ten degrees warmer than the surrounding air and are sealed to be waterproof. The mats are the same size as a typical seed flat. The downside of using these germination aids is that they require electricity.

An example of electric seed tray heat mat offered by Amazon. There are many brands available.

Plastic dome covers retain heat and humidity. Once seeds have sprouted, remove any soil warming devices and plastic covers. Cooler temperatures and plenty of light will encourage stocky, strong seedlings. Good air circulation helps keep seedlings healthy. I utilize an old box fan to keep the air moving but do not direct the breeze directly at the seed flats.

Filled seed flat covered with plastic dome

A plastic hat for the seed flat allows light to pass through but slows evaporation, keeping the soil damp.

Once seeds have germinated, they need plenty of light to grow and thrive. This can be particularly challenging if you are attempting to start seeds indoors near a sunny window. Insufficient light will result in spindly, weak plants. If weather is cloudy for a long stretch of days, new seedlings will elongate and weaken. If cloudy weather is in the extended forecast, you may need to add artificial light to keep seedlings strong and happy. When I first started gardening, grow lights were florescent. Now, LED lights are preferred because they emit high quality, intense light and use much less energy because they don’t produce heat.

Tall, skinny seedlings

These seedlings are growing tall and skinny - a clear sign that they need more light than they are currently receiving.

Dead seedling with brown stem

This poor seedling has suffered “damping off” from a fungal attack. The problem was likely caused by too wet a soil, as evident from the sheen of dampness on the starter mix.

Gradually acclimate seedlings to the harsh outdoors over a period of 7-10 days. This process is called “hardening off.”  Place seed flats outdoors in a protected area (away from winds and out of full sunlight) for an hour or two each day, gradually lengthening the time. If a day is especially blustery or unseasonably cool, skip it. Once temperatures are warm and threat of frosts and freezes are past, carefully transplant seedlings to their new homes. Handle them by leaves, not stems. A torn leaf does not impact future growth, but a damaged stem usually results in death. Below are my two favorite tools for lifting seedlings from starter packs, both moved from my kitchen: a square tipped sugar spoon, and an angled icing knife.

A sugar spoon is the light size to lift a seedling from a 4-pack seed tray and the angled icing knife is narrow enough to use when lifting from a smaller plug tray.

Starting your own seeds offers the benefit of many more choices than are available from transplants at local nurseries. And it’s fun!

The Mpemba Effect

The southeastern US typically has a few bitter cold days each winter, but our cold snaps rarely continue more than a day or two. The recent winter chill has been long-lasting and brutal. Even South Carolina’s coastal areas saw snowflakes this week, while piedmont and foothills are shivering in the “feels like” teens, even in daytime. Like many other gardeners, I am worried about the impact on my evergreen trees and shrubs. Tree roots are unable to absorb enough to replace moisture that has been stripped from conifer needles by cold winds. Dried out trees and shrubs may weaken, discolor, or even die. The Arbor Day Foundation has an excellent article on when and how to water trees in the winter. The short version: water trees once or twice per month when daytime temperatures are 40F and above. Click HERE to read the full article. Water evergreen containers weekly.

Our senior dogs are content to snooze indoors in their toasty beds, with their food and water bowls nearby. Our outdoor cats have heated cathouses and cat-door access to heated and insulated barns. We are doing our part to support wildlife, keeping birdfeeders full and fresh water available. While we have two creeks running through our woodlands, we also have water bowls all around the property. These are visited by raccoons, squirrels, opossums, skunks, foxes, coyotes, and deer.

Birds of all types cluster around our birdbaths. The birdbaths require regular attention because they are too distant from electricity sources to use water heaters. I assumed that filling these containers with warm or hot water would delay their freezing, but I have learned that warm water will actually freeze faster than tepid water. (Trigger warning: science speak to follow.) This counterintuitive phenomenon is called the Mpemba effect (pronounced em-PEM-ba).

Aristotle first hypothesized this phenomenon, but it was not named until 1963 when tested by a Tanzanian physics student named Erasto Mpemba. Without getting too technical, I can relate that hot water and cold water reach thermal equilibrium at different rates. When two samples of water are cooled, the hotter sample freezes (reaches equilibrium) first. Equilibrium exists when energy is neither flowing in or out of a substance. Water that has formed into ice has a stable volume.

Allow me to quote from an article from the HowStuffWorks website: “For water to freeze and stay frozen, individual water particles have to reach equilibrium. If too much energy surges through nonequilibrium water, it will fluctuate between solid and liquid (at low temperatures) or liquid and gas (at higher temperatures). The sooner that water particles reach equilibrium at low energy levels, the sooner they can freeze…When a vessel of water is submerged in a freezing environment, different parts of the water reach equilibrium at different times. Water around the outskirts of the vessel gets colder faster, which means that it may freeze while water in the middle of the vessel stays liquid. And when you specifically place a vessel of hot water in a freezer… it is also releasing steam from the top of the vessel, and this decreases the total volume of water that needs to freeze. Furthermore, cold water (or even room temperature water) often develops a layer of frost on its surface as part of the freezing process. Ironically, this frost temporarily insulates the water (kind of like how an ice igloo insulates its inhabitants against cold air), which can slow down the overall freezing process. Hot water, at least in the early stages, blocks the formation of frost, which allows cold air to penetrate deeper into the vessel.”

There has been ongoing disagreements and debate among scientists about the Mpemba effect. All sorts of factors come into play: contaminants in the water, size of the vessel, volume of the water, others. While undeniably brilliant, Aristotle and Descartes did not have access to the same laboratories that are available today. Which is why it is significant that the theory was successfully tested in modern times by Zhiyue Lu of the University of North Carolina and Oren Raz of the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel. Their results were reported in Quanta magazine. Another test, conducted in 2020 by John Bechhoefer and Avinash Kumar, supported the earlier results and was printed in Nature magazine.

While it does not seem logical that my birdbaths will freeze faster when filled with hot water than with cold, I will bow to the professional physicists and change my ways. Our wildlife cannot speak, but I know they appreciate their water sources. And as soon as daytime temperatures become warmer, I will be out there watering my arborvitae, hemlocks, boxwoods, and euonymus while I long for spring’s arrival.

Flamboyant Pileated Woodpeckers

Our rural location in upstate South Carolina is a bird mecca. We host a variety of bird species, large to small. One of my favorites is the pileated woodpecker, which are common across southeastern forests. Last summer, I tried repeatedly to capture a photo of these beautiful birds. We have at least six living in the woods near our home. They became accustomed to my presence in the front gardens, and would swirl and swoop around as if they were showing off their pretty black, white, and red plumage. Every time I popped the lens cover off the camera, however, they disappeared. When the lens cover went back into place, they would reappear. It was almost as if they were messing with me. I finally gave up, contented to see them at a distance, hear their distinctive calls, and witness their impressive excavation skills.

The first time I saw one of their squarish excavations, I did not realize what I was seeing. Later, I found that the tree was inhabited by large black ants, a favorite snack of the pileated woodpecker. Still later, I witnessed one going after the insects inside the bark of a tree stump near the driveway. The noise alone was impressive, but the shower of wood debris sent all directions was awesome.

Pileated woodpecker are big birds, almost as large as crows. Their heads are topped by neat red crests that make them easily distinguishable. The word pileated means capped. You can see large patches of white on their wings when they fly. The head crest on juveniles is smaller and less pointed, almost like a bird version of mohawk haircut.

As long as dead trees (“snags”) in our woodlands are not endangering buildings, driveways, or walking paths, we allow them to stand. These snags offer an ideal bird home. Woodpeckers seem to prefer tall trees over shorter ones. They raise one brood in a tree cavity, then abandon it and create a new cavity for the next brood. These excavated holes are used by other birds and small mammals. An average pileated brood consists of four eggs. Hatchlings fledge in about a month.

Pileated woodpeckers mate for life, but males and their females roost in separate cavities at night, even if they use the same tree. They are primarily insect-eaters but may also visit feeders, especially if suet is offered. They also eat fruits, nut, berries, and beetle grubs.

In late November, I misidentified a small bird that was visiting my prized Styrax japonica tree. I thought it was a juvenile pileated woodpecker, but when I approached, I realized that it was a redbellied woodpecker systematically destroying the tree’s bark. I kept shooing it away but this fella was not to be deterred. I eventually wrapped the tree trunk in hardware cloth, which he ignored. I then swaddled the entire tree in a garden mesh fabric. It looked awful but I was willing to do what had to be done to avoid the trunk being completely girdled and the tree killed. Aside: why, oh why, is a redbellied woodpecker so named, when it has a red head but not a red belly?

Pileated woodpeckers do not migrate. And I am happy to report that their populations are growing, a remarkable feat considering the housing growth in America taking over woodlands. Banded birds have been studied for their longevity. They have a lifespan of 12 years or so.

A male pileated woodpecker. The cheek stripe on a female is black instead of red.

Expanding The Gardeners' Vocabulary

I added a new word to my gardening vocabulary this week: thermotropism. In simple words, this is a plant’s reaction to temperature changes. Rhododendron exhibits one of the most obvious reactions to cold weather. When the weather turns frigid, Rhododendron leaves curl inward. It may look like the plant is suffering from drought, but instead it is reducing the surface area exposed to cold to keep internal moisture from evaporating.

While I was researching thermotropism, I discovered an entire family of -isms in the horticulture world. Phototropism is when a plant moves in reaction to light (sun). I’m sure you have seen in your own gardens how sunflowers turn their heads to the east to catch the morning sun, then slowly turn toward the west as afternoon arrives. Foxgloves and daffodils do the same.

Thigmotropism is when a plant encounters a solid surface and reacts to it – like a morning glory curling around a trellis. A reaction to the presence of chemicals is chemotropism. Think of the way roots move towards areas of higher soil fertility. A plant’s reaction to gravity is called geotropism or gravitropism. Movement in search of water is hydrotropism. And some plants react to touch. The tickle of insect legs will cause a Venus Flytrap to snap closed around its next meal.

The southeast is predicted to experience a serious winter storm later this week, the first measurable snowfall in my town since 2022. It might be an insignificant event in the opinion of my friends that moved from Michigan, Minneapolis, and South Dakota. For this SC native, anything more than an inch of snowfall can rightfully be called a blizzard. So, I’m going to practice thermotropism, and wrap myself into a down duvet like a human taco. Friends, stay safe and warm!

Thirsty? No - COLD! This Rhododendron has curled its leaves as self-protection..

Photo By Nicholas A. Tonelli - Flickr: Nature's Thermometers, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=24186333

Make A Woodland Walk Part of Your New Year's Tradition

Happy New Year. I hope that 2025 brings you happiness, good health, and gardening prosperity. Here in the deep south, we love our traditions and traditional holiday foods. How else could one explain the annual December appearance of green bean casseroles, sweet potato casseroles, and the shimmering blob of cranberry gelatin still bearing the marks of the metal can from whence it came? Many of us celebrate the onset of the new year with meals including collard greens, black-eyed peas, and cornbread.

According to folklore, eating greens (collards, turnip greens, cabbage, or my new favorite, roasted brussels sprouts) is supposed to ensure that one has plentiful green paper currency in the coming year. Black-eyed peas represent coins. Cornbread is supposed to symbolize gold. Newly landed European immigrants adopted cornbread from Native Americans, although I wonder how it compared to today’s version. Jiffy mix, anyone? My husband is a cornbread purist, insisting on no sugar or wheat flour, and mandating that buttermilk is a required component of the mix. I can forgo the sugar, but like to add chopped jalapenos for extra flavor.

Commonly, these traditional new year foods are seasoned with some type of pork – bacon, fatback, cracklings, various and sundry porcine parts. My husband grew up having a couple of pigs as part of the farm livestock. I was a city girl, so had no experience with the animals. I understand that pigs are intelligent, affectionate, and trainable, so they can almost be treated like 600-pound dogs. The swine circulatory system is similar to that of humans. They are often a source for human heart valve replacements and I saw a recent new report about a woman who had received a porcine kidney transplant. Over the weekend, I saw a large (at least 400 pounds) pig free-ranging on fallen acorns not more than fifty feet from a state highway. I hoped that the owner would soon corral him/her, but have seen multiple neighborhood reports that indicate this free spirit is still on the loose.

My preferred calendar-change kick-off includes a good book, a pot of coffee, a dog warming my feet, and at least one cat in my lap. The next two months are typically gray, cold, and gloomy. Some people suffer from a disruption of their circadian rhythms, and experience a form of depression called SAD, Seasonal Affective Disorder. If you are similarly troubled, please seek professional advice. Or, take my non-professional but well-intentioned recommendation to GET OUTSIDE. A thirty-minute walk outdoors always lifts my mood, even on the grayest of days. A walk is even more regenerative if it includes the companionship of a friend and takes you through a park or wooded area.

Enjoy the lull right now, because February ushers in the season for dormant pruning. More about that later. Right now, resolve to greet each new day with a positive attitude, confident in the knowledge that spring will arrive again.

Black eyed peans and pork, a staple of the New Year’s Day menu.

Photo by jeffrey w, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Ixora for Color Impact

A few months ago, I was hosting a garden club meeting and wanted a container plant to add seasonal color near the entrance door. I visited the garden center of a home improvement store, intending to purchase a Croton (beautiful waxy leaves but not cold hardy in my area) or Chrysanthemum (predictable, boring). Instead, I spotted a plant covered with clusters of gorgeous orange flowers. Though I did not know the name, I instantly recognized it as the same beauty that I had encountered and admired many years ago. Back then, it was in a large patio container of a home on garden tour. The hostess told me the name, which I promptly forgot, and said that it was tender but she loved it so much that her husband used a hand truck to haul it into their heated basement each winter. The one at the home improvement store was labeled, Ixora.

I was feeling pleased with myself when Ixora rode home in my backseat. A little research revealed that this was Ixora coccinea, pronounced ik-ZOR-ah kock-SIN-ee-uh. Common names are Jungle Flame, Flame of the Woods, and Jungle Geranium. The genus name seems to fit the exotic appearance of the plant, so mine is labeled Ixora.

Ixora is native to Asia. It is evergreen and common in Florida. Unfortunately, it is only cold hardy as far north as zone 10, and will suffer under 50 degrees. While mine is orange, Ixora coccinea is also available in yellow, pink, and red. Ixora takes full sun, regular irrigation, acidic soil, and monthly applications of fertilizer. The mature height can be over 5 feet, but it is usually kept smaller by an annual pruning in early spring. Avoid more frequent cutbacks to avoid removing flower buds  Plants flower almost continuously, late spring to fall.

I became less diligent about watering my potted specimen as cool weather approached. New buds stopped appearing, and the shiny leaves started to look dull and crispy. I moved it into the greenhouse with the intent of taking a cutting or two. Six weeks of light, warmth, and regular water in the greenhouse, and my Ixora is blooming as beautifully as it was the day it came home with me. I pruned all branches with the intent of keeping the plant small and dense. I treated the trimmings with rooting hormone and stuck them into damp vermiculite. They rooted quickly, and I have already moved nine plants to individual containers for growing on. In spring, I will select one to preserve as a “mother” plant, and place the rest of them in the ground in my courtyard garden, treating them as annuals. Of course, this assumes that the cuttings will survive in the greenhouse from now until mid-April. Grown indoors, Ixora is prone to mealybugs, thrips, and scale, and probably whitefly as well. I’ll tend them diligently, because OH, what a payback!
Whether you choose to keep yours as a houseplant or overwinter it in a greenhouse, reduce watering and fertilizing during the dormant period.

This Ixora was looking pathetic as fall approached. A few weeks of sun, heat, and water in the greenhouse and it has burst into flower again.

Cleyera Is An Improved Hedge Choice

As I assembled holiday arrangements today, I fondly remembered a hedging plant from my garden of many years ago, Red-Tip Photinia. In the early 1980’s, many southeastern gardens contained hedges of Photinia x fraseri, widely known as Red Tip after the reddish coloration of new growth. Red Tip fell victim to a fungal leaf spot that virtually wiped it out. Disease problems are exacerbated when large numbers of the same plants are located in a narrow area, called a monoculture.

Fortunately for us gardeners, a worthy replacement to Red Tip has surfaced in form of Cleyera, or Ternstoemia gymnanthera (tern-STROE-mee-uh jim-NANTH-er-uh). In some ways, Cleyera is better than Red Tip. It prefers neutral to acidic soil (no lime required). It is slow-growing with a mature height of 8-10 feet, which means it is low-maintenance. Consider it as a replacement for Leyland Cypress. It has a loose, open habit but it can be kept shorter and made denser by limited pinching or light pruning once per year. For faster growing specimens, look for the cultivar ‘Contherann.’

Cleyera prefers a bit of shade to prevent its leaves from scorching. In spring, Cleyera has small white flowers, followed by green berries that turn red in fall. Neither flowers nor berries will wow the observer. Instead, enjoy attractive glossy, bronzy-red new growth in spring, dark green summer leaves, and slightly bronzed fall leaves. While it will never be the star plant in the garden, it is an evergreen that makes a great privacy hedge choice for partly-sunny or partly-shady areas.

Cleyera is cold-hardy in zones 7-9. It tolerates a wide range of soil types. Avoid planting Cleyera in locations that are constantly wet.

Mid-summer leaves of Cleyera. Photo by Jim Robbins CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

New growth of Cleyera. Photo by Krzysztof Ziarnek, Kenraiz CC BY-SA 4.0

A mature specimen of Cleyera, Ternstroemia gymnathera ‘Le Ann’. Photo by Jim Robbins CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

Holiday Greenery for Yew-All

My favorite fresh greenery for holiday decorating is Yew or its close associates. I love the look and scent of fir, pine, and eastern red cedar (which is really a member of the Juniperus genus, not Cedrus, but why quibble over the name?). My garden SC is too warm for growing fir, so any branches I acquire have been shipped from a cooler zone, meaning they are not freshly cut. Pines are abundant throughout our woodlands, and the scent is evocative of Christmas celebrations, but the cut ends of branches exude a sticky sap that is difficult to remove. Eastern red cedar also has a wonderful fragrance. Some trees are adorned with powdery blue berries. It does not take long for berries to shed and cut cedar to dry out. Then it becomes brittle and scratchy, shedding profusely. This is why Yew or Plum Yew is my seasonal greenery of choice.

The “real” Yew is in the Taxus genus. It has short, dark green needles that are easy to use in wreaths and indoor holiday arrangements. It is not as heat tolerant as the Cephalotaxus genus, commonly called Plum Yew. Plum Yew needles are longer than Taxus. It is available in low/prostrate, medium/shrubby or tall/skinny forms. ‘Prostrata’ is a short, spreading evergreen shrub for shade. It reaches two feet in height but spreads up to six feet wide.  It makes a perfect foundation plant for shady areas under low windows or the north side of a home.  ‘Duke Gardens’ is taller but narrower, reaching up to five feet in height but maybe six feet wide. Its branches are angled upward, typically described as vase shaped. I was today-years-old when I learned that the name is Duke Gardens and not Duke’s Garden. Both the prostrate form and the vase-shape form require partial shade to full shade. Their needles are held in almost flat planes, though they tend to angle upward when grown in more sun. The tall, narrow form, Cepahalotaxus harringtonia ‘Fastigiata,’ will take more light that the last two, although it still prefers to be shielded from direct afternoon sun. Its needles spiral around the stem. All forms are slow growing, which means low-maintenance. In my cut flower arrangements, ‘Fastigiata’ makes a great filler and will stay fresh looking and needles will stay soft for several weeks as long as its stems are in water. 

Once they are established, Plum Yews are heat-tolerant and moderately drought-tolerant. Deer normally pass them by. 

A Plum Yew lookalike is Podocarpus, commonly called Japanese Yew. Its needles are longer than Plum Yew. In the landscape, it will take a lot more sun than Plum Yew but it is not as cold-tolerant and it will not tolerate wet soils. Podocarpus can be sheared into hedges or pruned into topiary.

The new growth on this Cephalotaxus harringtonia is a bright green. The small size of the spring growth spurt tells the gardener that this is a slow growing, low maintenance plant.

This fastigiate Plum Yew was in an area of my garden that received morning sun. To compensate, I gave it a little water during the hottest months. This is a mature specimen, ten feet tall and five feet wide.

These prostrate Plum Yews are low to the ground. Here they are used to edge a path. They would be idea under low windows on the shady side of a home.

Chindo Viburnum for Privacy Hedge

When cold weather arrives, I retreat into my shell (down vest) like a threatened turtle. There isn’t much to gladden the heart of this heat-loving gardener. Deciduous plants have dropped their leaves, perennials have passed into dormancy, and annual flowers are long gone. The refreshing appearance of evergreen trees and shrubs make the landscape tolerable. Needled evergreens can be damaged by ice. Limbs of broadleaf evergreens like Magnolia grandiflora break under snow loads. Harsh winds punish palms and conifers. Let me recommend an evergreen that seems to tolerate wind, ice, and snow without damage: Viburnum awabuki ‘Chindo.’

Before I met ‘Chindo,’ I thought of all Viburnums as smallish, deciduous shrubs. A few are known for fragrant flowers or colorful fruit. Others have especially nice fall color. The Chinese Snowball Bush is popular for its large, round white flowers in spring, resembling white mophead Hydrangea flowers.

Chindo Viburnum is an evergreen, low-maintenance shrub that will reach heights up to 20 feet and widths up to 15 feet. Plants can be kept smaller with annual pruning. Somewhat irregular in youth, Chindo matures to a pyramidal shape. It is cold hardy in zones 7b-9b. It will grow in a wide range of soil types and acidity. Chindo prefers part shade to full sun. It looks best when shaded from direct sun at the hottest part of the day. Established plants are moderately drought resistant. The thick, dark green leaves are so shiny they look polished. Plants grow fast – one to two feet per year, making it a good choice for blocking unsavory views.

All resources say that Chindo, introduced by J.C.Raulston, is known for its heavy set of red fruit clusters that follow white flowers which appear in early summer. I had a grouping of four plants, three of which were obtained as rooted cuttings from the fourth. I did not experience heavy berry set. In fact, I don’t recall any flowering. This probably means that my plants needed an outside pollinator instead of same-plant clones, and perhaps that I grew them in too shady an area. Even without flowers or berries, it is on my favorites list for its healthy appearance and low maintenance needs. Bonus: Chindo is rarely browsed by deer.

Select Chindo Viburnum for a privacy hedge, as an alternative to Magnolia, Tea Olive, Holly, or Arborvitae.

A bit gawky in youth, shown here, this Chindo Viburnum matured to a lovely pyramidal shape.

Time Change Woes

We changed from Daylight Saving Time to Standard Time three weeks ago. I am still having trouble adjusting. As I sat at the computer last night, ready to research a plant for this blog, my eyes drifted over to the window. Dark, cool, rainy. It must be approaching 10pm, I reasoned. A glance at the clock said it was just a few minutes after 7pm. How is that possible? Instead of delving into horticultural mysteries, I decided to investigate the background of Daylight Saving Time (“DST”).

First, notice that it is Daylight Saving Time, not Savings. Even though Benjamin Franklin is thought to be the originating party, time changes were suggested by George Washington back in 1784 as a means of conserving candlewax. Instead, he suggested that sleeping residents could be roused by the sound of church bells or even cannon fire. This seems absurd now, but that was a different time. His suggestion went nowhere. In 1916, Germany established DST as a way to conserve fuel during World War I. The US followed for seven months before reverting to Standard Time. DST was enacted again by President Franklin Roosevelt in February 1942. This change was for all year, and it was labeled “War Time” (WWII).

In 1945, Congress decided to allow states to make their own decisions about keeping DST or reverting to Standard Time. The result was chaos. Train schedules were impossible to establish without nation-wide consistency. Interstate travel and trade were confused. Neighboring states might be the same, or might not.

Beginning in 1966, our nation’s clocks were reset on the first Sunday of April and the last Sunday of November. In 2007, the reset changed to the second Sunday in March and the first Sunday in November. This alteration was part of the Energy Policy Act of 2005, signed by then-President Bush as part of a larger plan to reduce fossil fuel usage and improve air quality.

All states now follow DST except Arizona and Hawai’i. The change pleases golfers and shop owners, allowing for more people to be out playing and shopping before the onset of darkness. Farmers, on the other hand, want to get started early and say that it confuses their animals. I’ve never seen cattle wearing watches or consulting their phones, so I assume that the displeasure is with feeding times. [If you are a farmer who is unhappy with the change, please feel free to enlighten me.] About 70 countries follow the change, while India, China, Japan, and most African countries do not.

Time changes disrupt our bodies’ natural rhythms, which can manifest itself with increased car accidents, job site injuries, short tempers, and even heart attacks. I am one of those who prefer we pick one or the other, and remain with it instead of the twice-yearly change. I don’t think I am in the minority, since 19 states have requested that DST become permanent. In response, Congress proposed the Sunshine Protection Act of 2023. It died before passage, and was not resurrected in 2024. Perhaps we will see a change in the future.

And I finally learned why the drop-an-hour/add-an-hour change happens at 2am instead of some other time. In 1966, there were no Amtrak trains leaving New York City at 2am, so this was the least disruptive choice and had the lowest impact on travelers.

When Banning an Invasive Plant Is Bad

Now that the election is past, there is a shortage of contentious discussion, so it seems like a good time to mention a horticulture battle: native plants versus non-native plants. There are rabid supporters in both camps, both with rational arguments.

One of the reasons that this topic moved to the top of my blog priority list is the recent ban on the sale of Elaeagnus, a shrub whose common names include Silver Leaf, Thorny Olive, Silverthorn, Autumn Olive, and Russian Olive (and Ugly Agnes among its detractors). Beginning October 1, 2024, South Carolina banned the sale of Elaeagnus angustifolia, Elaeagnus pungens, and Elaeagnus umbellata. This makes it the second genus with sales banned in SC, after Bradford Pear.

I do not dispute the downsides of growing Autumn Olive in the garden. Birds eat the seeds and spread them into forests and woodlands, where they may displace native shrubs. They can fix nitrogen in poor soils and establish themselves as a monoculture, never a healthy situation. Left unrestrained, they can throw rampant growth and shade out native plants. All negatives, certainly. But in banning all these Elaeagnus, we are ignoring the research and development of non-seeding cultivars underway in a neighboring state. And we are turning a blind eye to Autumn Olive’s ability to stabilize steep slopes with poor soil, where few natives would survive. Demonizing the entire genus makes as much sense as banning ALL Butterfly Bush or Rose of Sharon, even though there are sterile or seedless cultivars available.

There are those who encourage the ban of Nandina. While Nandina berries are toxic to birds that gobble too many of them, there are few other heat- and drought-tolerant plants that will thrive in sun or shade, any soil texture or pH, with no added irrigation. Banning the sale of Nandina ignores the multitude of non-invasive or seedless cultivars: ‘Gulf Stream,’ ‘Flirt,’ ‘Fire Power,’ and ‘Harbour Dwarf,’ to name a few.

Not all natives are innocent. Trumpet Vine (Campsis), Goldenrod (Solidago ), Cattail (Typha latifolia), and Fishpole Bamboo (Phyllostachus aurea) spread like mad and can choke out other valuable plants. Some of our most beautiful plants are not native. I am not willing to remove my Camellias (both C. japonica and C. sasanqua), Bigleaf Mophead Hydrangeas, or Encore™ Azaleas. None of these are native to the United States.

Often, plants that are invasive in one part of the country are fine in another. I was surprised to find Castor Bean (Ricinus communis), Chaste Tree (Vitex agnus-castus), Pachysandra (Pachysandra terminalis), Mock Orange (Philadelphus coronarius), Creeping Jenny (Lysimachia nummularia), and Thunberg Spirea (Spiraea thunbergia) on the Invasive Plant Atlas of the MidSouth, published by the US Geological Survey. To download a complete list, click HERE. I have never experienced an out-of-control spread of any of these. In the case of Pachysandra, I had to plead with the plant to survive and spread.

To quote politicians’ jibber-jabber ad nauseum, “let’s work both sides of the aisle” to make wise choices for our specific areas. Beautiful gardens can contain a mixture of both natives and non-natives. Just make thoughtful selections. There are good choices and bad choices but no inherently evil plants (except for Chameleon Plant, Houttuynia cordata – straight from Hades).

The leaf underside of Elaeagnus pungens. Photo by Bri Weldon used under CC BY 2.0 license.