Stunning Shade Plant

Variegated Solomon’s Seal is a top performer in the Mary Snoddy garden. It looks good from the time bulbous, pinkish heads emerge from cold soil in March until dry, frost-killed yellow/tan leaves make whispery sounds in autumn breezes. In late spring, dainty white flowers dangle in pairs from the underside of its curved stems, like tiny white bells. These are described as fragrant, but I have never been able to detect a scent.

We do not normally think of tall plants as being groundcovers, but Solomon’s Seal works well as a carefree soil cover in areas where few other plants thrive. Solomon’s Seal is undemanding. It prefers partial shade and moist-to-wet soil, but survives full-sun exposure at a pond perimeter in my zone 7b garden. Elsewhere, I do not offer supplemental irrigation except in extended dry periods. Plants grown in sun attain only half the height of those grown in partial to full shade. It will also tolerate deep shade. They can be grown in containers, but all stems arch the same direction which may give an unbalanced look.

Plants combine well with ferns and hostas, and look especially great when paired with dark green European ginger, Asarum europaeum.

I am a bit of an evangelist when it comes to Solomon’s Seal. Visitors to my garden often admire the large swaths in my shady beds and woodland areas. Though they are best divided in autumn, I grab a sharp shovel and dig clumps of the shallow rhizomes to share. They spread rapidly enough to disguise the removals within one season. Plants are not bothered by insects and are rarely browsed by (my) deer,

There are several anecdotal explanations for the common name, but none of them appeal to me. Instead, I think the gardener who chooses this plant for their shade garden exhibits the wisdom of King Solomon. Variegated Solomon’s Seal, Polygonatum odoratum ‘Variegatum’ was named as Plant of the Year in 2013 by the Perennial Plant Association.

Solomon’s Seal in bloom

Solomon’s Seal buds pushing up in March

Selecting Colors for Flower Beds

Balanced color combinations are the most pleasing to the eye. You do not need to be an expert in color theory to understand that it’s all a matter of saturation. Our eyes tell us that intense orange flowers pair well with deep purple and apricot flowers play nice with lavender.

Almost every combination of hues has advantages. Pastels groupings look great in spring. (See the photo for pink begonias paired with rose-veined Caladiums.) Bold blends of reds, oranges and yellows can hold their own during hot months. Muted shades of burgundy and rust fit our preferences as we enter the autumn months. Neutrals like ivory, white or gray look wonderful as standalones or when used as a peace-making barrier between clashing colors.

When planning your choice of annuals for the year, don’t be afraid to pull out that color wheel from elementary school.  (Don’t have one? Google does. I particularly like those provided by sites that offer printing services, like PengadPrinting.com.) It may inspire you to new levels of greatness in your flower bed choices. It is unlikely, for example, that you would choose to wear an outfit combining chartreuse, orange and purple. Consult your color wheel, however, and you may opt to pair orange zinnias, chartreuse sweet potato vine and violet petunias for beds that zing with energy.

There are four basic color harmonies: warm, cool, complementary and tetradic. Yellow, orange and red are considered warm colors, like fire or the sun. Blue, green and purple are cool colors that remind us of water, grass or the sky. Compound or complementary combinations are generated by selecting two colors on the wheel and the color opposite in a triangle. This produces my favorite combo, blue/purple/yellow. Tetradic combinations use a rectangle rather than a triangle. Example: red, purple, yellow-green and blue-green. If your rectangle has equal length sides (a square), a possible combination is orange, blue, yellow-green and violet. If you love lots of different colors in your beds, you cannot go wrong with a tetradic combination.

If discussions of color theory make you consider going all white with your flower choices, proceed with caution. There are many different shades of white. Ivory will look dirty when seen next to pure white. Some white flowers turn ugly as they age. White azalea and camellia blooms are gorgeous when young but become wretchedly ugly as they wither and brown.

At one time, color combinations of bedding annuals in the Mary Snoddy garden changed each year. I followed a patriotic theme one year, using white Catharanthus (vinca), red Salvia and blue Wave petunias. The following year it was red, pink, rose and white Zinnias, followed by a year of yellow Marigolds and purple Verbena. In the last six years, I have transitioned towards perennials and shrubs rather than annuals. I will reserve one bed for annuals, so that I can play with different color combinations. Change is fun.

Pink veined Caladiums paired with giant pink begonias at the Atlanta Botanical Garden in Gainesville

Yellow and red Portulaca in a hanging basket for a combination that never needs supplemental water.

A new container planting of primary colors. The Rumex at the rear serves as a moisture indicator, wilting when it is time to water. The sweetgum balls atop the soil serve to discourage my cats from napping here.

Pink Flowering Trees in Winter

If I could point to an origin for my love of gardening, it would be my admiration for a series of trees around the main entry at my college, Furman University. In the ugliest part of February, a circle of trees around the entry fountain were covered in gorgeous, ruffled pink blooms. I fell in love without knowing their identify. Now I know that they were flowering cherry trees, Prunus serrulata ‘Kwanzan.”

Flowering cherries are short, both in stature and life-span. They may reach up to 25 feet tall, and usually live 20 years or less. Site them in full sun. Trees prefer moist soil but will not tolerate a boggy situation.

Higan Cherry, Prunus subhirtella, is taller, reaching to 40 feet. They are more heat and cold tolerant than the serrulatas.

Prunus mume, Flowering Apricot, is easily confused with the cherries. It blooms earlier, in late January. The cultivar ‘Peggy Clarke’ is widely available. An elementary school nearby has a row of these along the entrance drive. In bloom, their frothy pink blooms look like a row of giant spun-sugar cotton candy-on-a-stick.  All the Prunus members have prominent horizontal marks on their trunks, called lenticels.

Ornamental cherries are prone to a long list of problems: blights, viruses, insects, leaf spots, and mildews. They are so beautiful that we ignore their issues.

Winter Witch-Hazel

Witch-Hazel (Hamamelis, pronounced ham-ah-MAY-lis) is native, widely found in southeastern US woodlands. It blooms in winter, a welcome bright spot in in the garden.

Witch-hazel blooms consist of four strap-like petals, secured to the stem via a darker calyx. The fruit and flowers occur on the stems at the same time, an oddity. Several cultivars are widely available. Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Jelena’ has yellow-to-orange flowers and Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Dianne’ has rusty red flowers. If yellow is your color of choice, seek out ‘Arnold Promise,’ or ‘Princeton Gold.’ Seeds are a preferred food for wild turkeys and other wildlife. 

The roundish leaves have pleats that remind me of Viburnum. The pretty, bright green leaves change color in the autumn. Varieties with yellow blooms tend to have yellow fall foliage, while those with red blooms show a redder fall color. Witch-Hazel is one of the woods of choice among dowsers, those who use divining rods (Y-shaped sticks) to detect water sources underground. Dowsing is also called “water-witching” (or “hooey” by skeptics).

Witch-Hazel enjoys the same cultural conditions as Redbud (Cercis canadensis) or the Dogwood (Cornus mas) featured in this blog last week. The zig-zag stems resemble that of Cercis. The bark of Witch-Hazel is smooth while the Cornus is rough and flaky. Like the Cornelian Cherry, it splits the difference between short tree and tall shrub. Trees prefers high, filtered shade but will take more sun in cooler zones. They grows best in acidic, moist soil, Zone 3-8, with a mature height up to 30 feet. 

Natural astringent properties have made Witch-Hazel a common topical treatment for acne or minor skin irritations. You will find it on the ingredients list of several cosmetic skin toners. It doesn’t sting like rubbing alcohol, so it is a better option for children’s scrapes. 

Under-plant Witch-Hazel with bulbs like crocus or daffodil. Grafted shrubs tend to sucker, so remove any growth below the graft line. 

Writer’s note: There seems to be no consistency in the common name. Use your choice:  Witch Hazel, Witch-hazel, or Witchhazel.

Hamamelis ‘Jelena’ in bloom

Not Your Average Dogwood

Weeks before common white Dogwoods (Cornus florida) burst into bloom throughout my woodlands, their cousin, Cornelian Cherry (Cornus mas) decorates its bare branches with blooms that look like tufts of yellow fringe. With a few years of maturity, those blooms will develop into one-seeded red berries, hence the common name. Unlike cherries, the fruit is tart almost to the point of being inedible. Unless they are completely ripe, they produce the same pucker as an unripe persimmon.

Reaching heights of 20 to 25 feet, fast-growing, multi-stemmed Cornelian Cherry sits between short tree and tall shrub. This tough plant grows in zones 4 to 8. It will tolerate acidic clay soil and infrequently needs supplemental irrigation. In the southernmost zones, it prefers shade during the afternoon. Remove any suckers to prevent development into a thicket.

Although rare, trees can fall prey to blight, leaf scorch, cankers, leaf spot, mildew and an assortment of scale insects. It exhibits resistance to the anthracnose that plagues Cornus florida.

Trees are deciduous. A variegated cultivar is available. Fall color is negligible. After leaf-fall, the scaly bark is attractive. Deer may nibble on young trees but avoid mature specimens.

Beautiful Club Moss (Creeping Cedar)

The bright green foliage of club moss is a welcome sight against the grays, browns and blahs of winter. Lycopodium, also known as creeping cedar or ground pine, grows in partial shade throughout woodland areas in the Mary Snoddy garden. Reaching a height of six inches or less, it makes a beautiful green groundcover blanket. Evergreen plants spread above ground by runners and below ground by shallow rhizomes with sparse roots.

Like ferns, Lycopodiums produce new plants by spores. The spores occur along candelabra-type stems (see photos) that are held above the lacy foliage. These spores, when dried and mixed with air to form a mist, are flammable. They are used to create impressive flashes or flames in stage productions. The flames disappear so quickly that they don’t (normally) ignite anything else.

The one downside of creeping cedar is the difficulty in transplanting it.  Several times, I have attempted a move and met with miserable failure. I suspect that it may need a particular mycorrhiza (soil fungi) or some magic combination of micronutrients. When happy in their habitat, plants spread and spread. They prefer partial shade and well-drained acidic soil but will tolerate almost any soil type . They are slow to return to areas that have burned. Decades ago, club moss was so widely harvested for Christmas wreaths that it neared extinction.

I found conflicting reports of growth zones. Clubmosses have been separated into at least ten genus and 300 or more species, so there may be wide variations through the family. I can only report success in zone 7b. The lovely “leaves” look like shredded umbrellas. Neither deer nor rabbits nibble.

A Houseplant for Low Light

Confession time: I broke my number one gardening resolution this week. Namely, always plant shop with a list and purchase only what is on that list.

This is a trying time of the year for gardeners. I’m like a zombie hunting for brains. The seed catalogs are stacking up, filled with photographs of bright colors and mouth-watering descriptions. It is cold outdoors and weeks too early to start seeds in the greenhouse unless you are sowing geraniums (I don’t). Once winter pruning is done, there is not much to enjoy while we wait for spring. I avoid nurseries (why suffer temptation when vulnerable?) but in my rush to leave a big box store last week, I exited through the garden center. And there it sat, looking like Cousin Itt, waiting for me and my debit card. Marked down for clearance, even. It was fate. We were meant to be together.

Once home, I researched cultural conditions for my new Rhipsalis. My gardening skills stop at the back door, but this sounds like a houseplant that will withstand neglect and low light levels. The tag indicated low water usage and indirect light only. Check and check.

What exactly is a “low light” level? How does one measure light? Let me share what I learned. The human eye is efficient. We compensate in low light, which makes it harder for us to estimate conditions. An electronic light meter can be used for accuracy. To use a meter,  remove the protective lens cover, point it at the light source, and receive a reading, measured in a unit called footcandles. Plants listed for low light levels generally need 25 footcandles. High light needs are 150 footcandles or more.

If you don’t want to purchase a meter, there are several light-measuring apps for your mobile phone. I compared the results of one of these against the results of an electronic meter. The readings were not the same, but fairly close.

My preferred method does not require equipment or app. Look for shadows. If you see crisp shadows with defined edges, you are looking at high light exposure. Indistinct shadows without defined edges indicate low light levels. Keep in mind that light intensity changes with the season. An African violet that does well in a window during winter months may get crispy leaf margins or even scorched spots during the summer months in that same window.

Back to Rhipsalis. The common name is Mistletoe Cactus. It is epiphytic, a plant that grows on another plant but is not dependent upon its host for food. My specimen looks like a character from the Addams Family, with waving green tendrils that like to lean toward a light source. I was concerned to find that the individual tendrils can reach up to twenty feet in length. They are slow-growing, however, and can be maintained at a manageable size by keeping it in a small pot.

How much neglect can a Mistletoe Cactus withstand? Let the experiment commence.

Yucca: Tough As Nails

Despite their demonic-like appearance, several Yuccas are native to the southeast US rather than Hades. Their sturdy, evergreen leaves and thick roots make them impervious to heat and scalding sunlight.

Yucca filamentosa, commonly known as Adam’s Needle, has a rosette-type habit. There is no trunk or stem. Instead, leaves all generate from a central point and are roughly the same length. The leaves have loose threads hanging from the edges of their leaves, giving them a frayed look. While the leaves rarely exceed 30 inches in length, the bloom stem will shoot up to six feet tall before exploding in clusters of white, bell-shaped flowers.

Yucca aloifolia differs from Adam’s Needle in that it develops a thick, fleshy trunk that may reach a height of ten feet. The common name, Spanish Bayonet, refers to the sharp spines on the tips of the leaves. These pose a danger to eyes, ears, skin, and your resolution to stop cursing.

Yucca flaccida, Weakleaf Yucca, resembles filamentosa, but the outer leaves bend a bit, as if relaxed. One of the most popular Yuccas for sale in nurseries, ‘Colorguard,’ is sometimes listed in this group, other times in filamentosa. Colorguard has become popular for its small stature (24 to 30 inches) and neat habit. It looks especially good when planted in masses. Its leaves have a warm yellow variegation that takes on an apricot tint in cold weather, just when gardeners appreciate a warm hue in the garden. Try combining it with a groundcover of ‘Angelina’ Sedum, which also takes on a peachy shade in winter.

Yuccas’ coarse texture make a perfect contrast to bold, round leaves or fine textures like Spirea. They thrive in hot, dry, sandy sites. They tolerate salt spray near the coast and will also perform well in containers, zones 4-10.

I chuckled last week when I saw an item on Reddit in which a man is trying to find a new owner for the Yucca next to his entrance: “If you want this massive, hate-filled plant, then plan on showing up with some thick gloves, a shovel, a truck and a cavalier attitude about seeing tomorrow.”

I am convinced these tough plants would survive a nuclear blast. Since Yuccas can regenerate from a small piece of root, they reappear even after major removal efforts. There is a small forest of them growing in my woodland area, where I dumped their decapitated bodies. They somehow took root and are thriving, even in part shade. Yuccas are rarely bothered by insects or diseases, and deer ignore them.

Yucca blooms at Hatcher Garden in June. Photographer unknown.

This is ‘Colorguard’ yucca. Note the threads hanging off the leaf edges, like Yucca filamentosa. I have never seen one bloom. They reproduce by throwing “pups” to the side of the mother plant. Photographer unknown.

A group of Spanish Bayonet in the Mary Snoddy garden. A brush with those sharp leaf points results in bloodshed.

Banana Shrub - Fragrant, Beautiful

Plants that bloom in winter grab our attention. Plants that have sweet fragrance please our noses. My Banana Shrub is in full bloom mid-January, and it does both.

When I purchased this beauty in a one-gallon container some twenty years ago, the label read Michelia maudiae (Banana Shrub) ‘Smiling Forest’. Since then, the plant has been reclassified into the Magnolia genus. I cannot argue with the taxonomists who changed the name. The fragrant blooms look like small versions of the beloved Magnolia grandiflora. The scent carries fruity notes I do not detect in the southern Magnolia, although it does not mimic bananas (my opinion). It has the thick, evergreen leaves of other Magnolias, smaller version. Bonus points: Banana Shrub does not shed leaves daily, making it a good alternative to the smaller stature Magnolias like ‘Little Gem’ or ‘Kay Parris.’

The plant label on Smiling Forest said that it would reach 10 feet. My specimen, unaware of this restriction, is slightly more than twenty feet tall. It is a tree, not a shrub, in the Mary Snoddy garden. It also seems unaware that it blooms prematurely. This out-of-synch bloom is likely due to my poor placement.

Banana Shrub enjoys partial shade. Unfortunately, I sited mine on the southwest side of a metal agricultural building. The building absorbs and releases heat in wintertime, coaxing the Banana into spring behavior. Every year, it blooms beautifully and then is zapped by a cold blast. The ivory petals turn to brown mush and the tender new growth falls, leaving the tree shivering in the cold, partially clad only in older leaves. It will recover by May, with new blooms and new growth, although flowering will not be as heavy as the winter bloom-burst. The tree is far too large to relocate, so I just live with this unfortunate annual near-plant-death experience.

Banana Shrubs grow in zones 7b to 9. They are drought tolerant, once established. They are not bothered by insects or diseases and are not normally browsed by deer. Just pick the right place – partial shade produces a lovely, dense plant that blooms in April.

This Banana Shrub bloom is only three inches across. It is an excellent mimic of its cousin, Magnolia grandiflora

Banana Bush, full bloom. This photo was taken January 14, 2020.

Evergreen Vine, Confederate Jasmine

If you seek a fast-growing evergreen vine, consider Confederate Jasmine (Trachelospermum jasminoides, pronounced tray-key-low-SPER-mum jaz-min-OY-deez).  It is not a ‘true’ jasmine (Jasminum genus). This lovely vine has pointed, shiny, dark green leaves. Small, very fragrant star-shaped flowers appear in summer, giving rise to its common name, Star Jasmine.

Confederate Jasmine can be grown on a trellis or allowed to scramble over the soil as a ground cover. It is cold hardy zones 7b through 11, but grows fast enough to enjoy as an annual in colder climates. It prefers shade from the hottest afternoon sun. Too much shade will produce vine stems with long spaces between the leaves (internodes). The one in the Mary Snoddy garden is planted at the north-east corner of a building, a sun exposure that makes it happy.

Confederate Jasmine is undemanding. It will grow in most soils and is moderately drought tolerant. While it twines naturally, it does not have suckers to adhere to surfaces. If grown on a trellis, the vine will need to be wired to the structure in a few places. A mature vine can be heavy, so select a sturdy support. It can be an ideal privacy-maker if grown on fencing.

Confederate Jasmine can be trimmed to keep it compact. When cut, the vines produce a milky sap that can cause skin irritation. If you choose to root those cuttings into new plants, allow the sap to dry several hours before placing them into rooting compound.  

My favorite cultivar is ‘Madison’ because of its reblooming habit. Variegated forms are available. They grow slower than the non-variegated type and are more difficult to propagate via rootings. Deer don’t nibble on this plant. Bees love the flowers.

Confederate Jasmine used as a ground cover, creeping over a stucco wall.

This Confederate Jasmine grows on a sturdy trellis. Mature vines like this one can be quite heavy.

Gardening Resolutions

It is time for New Year’s resolutions. Our annual aspirations tend to repeat, year after year. Lose weight. Save money. Exercise more. Yet, our good intentions wither in a few weeks and we find ourselves still fat, poor and lazy. I limit myself to these garden-related goals.

1. Take a shopping list to the garden center or nursery and purchase only what is on that list. This prevents acquisitions based on plant lust rather than need. Guidelines like “heat-tolerant evergreen conifer that gets 10 to 15 feet tall” are easier to work with than “Emerald Giant Arborvitae.” 

2. All plants must go in the ground within 48 hours of purchase. This keeps me from stockpiling flora that may die of neglect before I get around to planting them.

3. No more hanging baskets.  In my hot climate, they require regular attention to thrive or even to survive. I hate to water. I have the sad physical evidence to support that statement.

4. Once a tree/shrub/perennial has died three times under my care, it is time to admit defeat and move along. Read on for a personal illustration.

Multiple times, I have purchased a Monkey Puzzle tree (Araucaria araucana) and each time it died. If you are a regular reader of this blog, you already know that I love plants with thorns or sharp leaves. It was love at first sight when I encountered Monkey Puzzle. The limbs and trunk are covered in triangular leaves that are as sharp as razor blades. The first of those ill-fated trees consumed my entire annual plant purchase budget. My long-suffering husband bled after he wrestled the eight-foot Weapon-Of-Mass-Destruction into a perfect planting hole. I applied tender, loving care but the wretch died within six months. I refused to say goodbye to my investment, and I applied green spray paint (Krylon rattle cans) to the dead tree several times. The husband finally put a stop to this and used our tractor’s front-end loader to haul the bright green carcass away. When I returned to the nursery which I purchased the tree, they told me that (1) the other four specimens they sold had also been reported dead by their purchasers and (2) “No guarantees. Sorry.” (That garden center is now out of business.)
I may be stubborn but I am not stupid, so the next two Monkey Puzzle trees were smaller and cheaper. The first died within a year. The final attempt was planted into a large container filled with a combination of PermaTill and quality potting soil. It survived three years, dying one limb at a time while inexplicably sprouting new growth. Finally, it succumbed. No more chances, Monkey Puzzle. No more.

Happy New Year to you and yours. May all your 2020 gardening endeavors be successful.

A young Monkey Puzzle tree, in a 24-inch container.

Same tree, dead and awaiting deposit upon the compost pile.

Make Your Own Garden Ladybug

Here is my Christmas gift to you. Below you will find step-by-step instructions for upcycling bowling balls into cute garden ornaments.

If you haven’t bowled for years, but still have equipment buried in a closet somewhere, bring those relics out into the light of day.

Start with a pair of ordinary bowling balls.

Use an orbital palm sander over the entire surface of the bowling balls. (I’ll refer to them as BB from this point forward.) Paint will not adhere to a slick, shiny surface, so sand long enough to have a completely dull finish. Wash the sanding residue off, dry the balls completely, and apply a coat of primer. The primer makes the final paint adhere better and increases the longevity of the final product.

I used a couple of empty coffee cans to hold the sanded BBs off the soil surface, for ease of painting. Here they are, after receiving a coat of oil-based primer.

Paint the entire surface with a coat of bright red paint. Allow it to dry thoroughly and then apply a second coat. I found that it took two days for the red surface to be completely dry. The two finger holes will be for the bug’s antennae . Keep this in mind as you use painter’s tape to section off a center section. The space between the two tape strips will be painted black. The curve of the ball means that the stripe will be wider in the middle. See the photo below.

Painter’s tape defines the center stripe. The tape will wrinkle due to the BB curve. The wrinkles don’t matter, as long as the tape creates a defined line toward the middle, where the black paint goes.

Picture after the center stripe was added.

Allow the black paint to dry completely and then remove the tape. Next, use sections of fresh tape to create templates for adding wing spots. My tape width was narrow, so I needed to use two strips. I decided to use a combination of large spots and small spots. I used a half-dollar coin to outline my large circles, and a slightly smaller coin for the smaller circles. Use an Xacto knife to cut the center holes out before positioning them on the BBs. For attractive dots, use care to cut a clean edge. Ragged cuts result in jagged dots. You will need a template for every dot you plan to add to your BBs. Cut them all at one time. Position them on either side of the black stripe, matching the left side to the right side, just as real ladybugs have mirror image dots on their wings. I found that it was easiest to paint the large dots first, allow them to dry and then remove their template tape, adding the smaller dots as a separate step.

Adding the largest black spots. Use care to avoid paint bleed at the edges. You want crisp dots with well-defined edges. Once the large dots are dry, remove the tape and position the smaller dots between the large ones.

Remove the painter’s tape from around the wing spots. Optional: Add two coats of a clear spray-on lacquer to make the final appearance even shinier and to prevent fading in sunlight.
Use silicone caulking, waterproof tub-and-tile sealer, or outdoor adhesive to fill the thumb hole and finger holes. Before the filler dries, insert two springs for the antenna. My neighborhood Ace Hardware had a great assortment of springs. You can choose short or long. I selected longer ones that weren’t particularly strong, so that wind would make them bobble about. Superglue a couple of wood balls on the ends of the antenna. I painted my wood balls yellow, for contrast. I also painted the thumb-hole adhesive black, so it blends into the stripe and becomes invisible.

Final step is to give your ladybug some eyes. I used superglue and google eyes purchased from a craft supply store (Micheal’s). You can paint on eyelashes or eyebrows to add personality.

Tah-dah! A pair of completed BB ladybugs, ready to be placed in the garden.

Ladybug or Asian Lady Beetle?

It is the time of the year when people cluster indoors to socialize. Other creatures, like bears, choose to hibernate until warm weather. Same thing goes for lady bugs, more correctly known as lady beetles.

How can you tell the ladybugs from Asian lady beetles? Allow me to quote from PestWiki.com: “The main difference between these two insects is the size of the two bugs. Asian ladybugs are larger in size. Ladybugs have a head that is all black with little white cheeks. Their Asian counterparts have more white on their “cheeks” and are more of a deep orange color rather than a red.” The Asians have a white M on their black heads, closest to the round body, while ladybugs do not. The M can be large or small, but it is always present.

What difference does it make whether your polka-dotted insects are ladybugs or Asian lady beetles? Well, ladybugs are good insects. In their immature stage, the larvae look like red and black alligators. These larvae eat enormous amounts of aphids (yay!), scale and other insects, and are considered very beneficial. You can even purchase them for release into your garden. (I’ve heard mixed results on the success of this.) When cold weather arrives, ladybugs seek shelter to hibernate outdoors. They don’t bite. They don’t stink. And they don’t congregate in large numbers.

Asian lady beetles are in the same family, but they are the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad cousins of ladybugs. They like to hibernate inside your home. They will congregate in large groups, usually next to a metal surface that has become heated in winter sun. (See the accompanying photograph.) They don’t have teeth, but they can scrape human skin in a way that feels exactly like a bite. They leave a stinky yellow goo wherever they gather and can stain skin, fabrics or paint. Since they prefer light colors (white, silver, yellow), this staining is a most unpleasant habit. If you spot them inside your home, the recommended removal method is vacuuming. Don’t squash them — pee-ewe. Just don’t forget to dispose of the vacuum contents, outdoors. Their one redeeming quality is that they, too, eat aphids.

Check next week’s blog for instructions on how to create Ladybug art a la Mary Snoddy for your garden.

The white M is clearly visible on this Asian Lady Beetle that joined me in the kitchen this morning.

A cluster of Asian Lady Beetles. Photo by Jerry King of Reidville, SC - Used with permission.

Artificial or Live Christmas Tree?

The battle begins anew each winter. Artificial or live tree? There are good reasons for both sides of the argument: environmental, financial, health, tradition and aesthetics.

The American Christmas Tree Association says that 75% of American households display a Christmas tree and 82% of those are artificial. For some families, taking the drive to a farm and selecting their tree of choice is an annual tradition without which the season would be incomplete. Other “live” options are to decorate a living tree outside one’s home (no gifts underneath) or to purchase a ball-and-burlap tree and plant it outdoors after the holidays. Unless you own acreage, this is only practical for a few years.

Cutting a tree down is not necessarily bad for the environment, unless you chop one randomly from a forest. Today Christmas trees are farmed, just like corn or tomatoes. Trees take about ten years to reach marketable size, but they can be grown on terrain that is too hilly for growing edible crops. The field space left empty when a tree is harvested is soon filled with a seedling tree to start building toward the next harvest. I know a couple who farmed cut-your-own Christmas trees on a small scale in the tiny town of Gilbert, South Carolina. They told me that regular hand-trimming was required to produce strong, dense, well-shaped trees, and they also sprayed theirs with a water-soluble pigment that became permanent when dry to ensure consistent green color. Trees that were not chosen by purchasers several years in a row became too large to sell and had to be removed and discarded.

Real trees are not exactly recyclable, but they are biodegradable. They will decay naturally. Many townships offer curbside tree pick up through January. Their collection is either ground into mulch or dropped into lakes to provide a habitat for fish.

False trees offer uniform shapes (no holes) and branches strong enough to hold the heftiest cut-crystal ornaments without the danger of them crashing to the floor when a dry branch becomes brittle. Unfortunately, many fakes will eventually find their way to a landfill.

The ACTA (represents artificial tree manufacturers) says that the environmental impact of the faux is less than the impact of a real tree IF consumers use the fake for five years or more before it goes landfill-bound. The NCTA (represents growers of live trees) argues that statistic ignores the environmental impact (“carbon footprint”) of manufacturing the fake tree components and shipping them from China. They further point out the water use required during manufacturing, the effect on wildlife, and US farmland and job preservation.

What about the finances of the choice? A Nielsen/Harris poll in 2017 found that the average price of a live tree was $75, while the average price of an artificial tree was $107. In my area, live trees are cheaper and artificial trees are more expensive than these statistics. Still, you don’t have to be a math genius to see that there is a short payback for the fake. Those fakes are usually made in China from PVC and steel components. If the current tariff threat worsens, buyers can expect the prices to increase.

If you suffer from allergies, fake might be the best choice. Live trees exude a wonderful fragrance – and perhaps dust, fungi or mold spores. If you are especially sensitive, rinse a live purchase with a hose and allow it to dry outside before bringing it indoors. The PVC used in most artificial trees can contain arsenic, lead, and other baddies. When new, they can release VOCs (volatile organic compounds) that cause headaches and nausea in sensitive people.

Whether you go real or faux, using LED lights consumes less energy and produces less heat. Please keep live trees well-watered. A dry tree is extremely flammable.

Here at New Hope Farm, we made the change to artificial ten years ago. The spaces between the wood plank floors in our 135-year-old home shrink and grow with temperature and humidity changes. I found that I was vacuuming needles from those cracks as much as six months after the holidays. After the holiday, I felt guilty about discarding something that had once been a lovely, living thing. (Sounds sentimental, I know, but I also have difficulty in discarding seedlings when I’m thinning garden vegetables.) Our current tree is behemoth, seven feet wide at the bottom and three of the four sections are quite heavy. Once up and decorated, it requires no further attention until time to disassemble and haul back to its storage area. I miss the aroma of a live tree, so I compromise by placing vases of greenery in every room. We have plentiful pine, cedar, cypress and magnolia, so when an arrangement starts looking tired, I cut fresh greens and toss the spent materials in the fire, when I get a final fragrant farewell.

This red metal sled conceals a water reservoir used to keep the greens hydrated. Pine and cedar add traditional seasonal aroma. Yellow Nandina berries pair nicely with the yellow-flecked Aucuba. When I refresh this arrangement, I will omit the boxwood, since warm indoor temperatures intensify its cat-pee scent.

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Hurrah for Hardy Cyclamen

In the midst of drab winter, I value anything hardy enough to send up colorful blooms. Such is the case with Hardy Cyclamen. Cyclamen coum are tuberous perennials, cold hardy in zones 6-9. These short plants are perfect for rock gardens, woodlands, containers, or scattering through partly-shaded beds. Plants go dormant during summer months. Because of their small stature, they show best when planted in groups.

Please note, we are talking the species purpurascens, coum or hederifolium here, not Cyclamen persicum, those gorgeous but finicky flowers from florists. I can usually kill those in about six weeks, although two weeks is my record. There is disagreement over the correct pronunciation of the genus, with some insisting on SIGH-cluh-men and others preferring SICK-luh-men.

Cyclamen’s delicate appearance would lead one to believe they are difficult to grow . Not so. My start came from a friend who discovered a drift behind her new home. They were growing happily in loose leaf litter, with the bulbs barely covered. Some even sat atop the humus, with only their roots extending into soil. She shared a few bulbs with me. In four years, they have multiplied into a couple of healthy clumps. I have not irrigated or fertilized them, but have adjusted their soil pH with lime to barely alkaline. In the Mary Snoddy garden, they coexist with hostas, acanthus and Ajuga ‘Black Scallop’ under spotty shade cast by Crape Myrtles and pine trees.

Flower stems are shaped like shepherd crooks, so the top of the flower points to soil, not sky. Both flowers and leaf patterns are highly variable between different species. All forms of the leaves have beautiful designs in silver, darkest green or burgundy.

Cyclamen prefer partial shade cast by trees. Too much rain or irrigation in summer, when the bulbs are dormant, can lead to rot. Plants will self-seed, so be careful not to overdo the mulch around them. They are rarely bothered by diseases, insects or varmints.

Cyclamen were used medicinally in ancient times for various purposes including love potions or to make bald heads re-grow hair. Now we know that raw bulbs are highly toxic and can cause severe digestive upset or even death. Flower petals can be used to brew tea. Play it safe and stick to Lipton.

Tubers should be planted in autumn. Purchase your bulbs only from reputable vendors (shout out here to Brent and Becky’s, a bulb catalog company in Gloucester, VA and Plant Delights Nursery in Raleigh, NC). Unethical sorts have collected bulbs from the wild until they approach extinction.

Cold Gold - Winter Aconite

Recent rains and gusty winds brought down the last colorful autumn leaves. It will be a few weeks before crocus, hellebores, mahonias and edgeworthias start blooming. In browsing for new garden additions to brighten the winter scene, I ran across Winter Aconite, sometimes called Buttercup.

Eranthus hyemalis, pronounced er-AN-thiss hy-eh-MAY-liss, enjoy similar light conditions as Hellebores: full sun during bloom period, partial shade otherwise. This makes them an ideal candidate to plant under deciduous trees. They enjoy regular moisture but will tolerate less during dormancy. Golden yellow Winter Aconites bloom early, even before crocus.

The plants grow from tubers which should be planted rather deep (5 inches in good soil, a little shallower in heavy clay) so they are not damaged by cold. Soak the tubers overnight before planting to give them a good start. Winter Aconites are petite plants and should be planted close together in tight groups rather than spaced apart. They enjoy a rich soil and will survive in zones 4-9.

Plants can be propagated by division. Happy plants grown in fertile soil with plentiful moisture may reseed, sometimes heavily. They can be planted in the lawn as well as in flower beds, since the post-bloom foliage will wither and die before it’s time to mow grass in the spring. This is one of the few plants unaffected by the toxic substance, juglone, produced by black walnut trees.

Regretfully, I’ll need to forgo this one. Winter Aconites are extremely toxic to humans and pets. Eating the bloom, leaves or bulbs results in nausea, disrupts heart rhythms and can be deadly.

The photo is of a plant in a local botanical garden.

Winter Aconite at Hatcher Garden and Woodland Preserve, Spartanburg, SC. Anonymous photographer.

Goldenrod good; Ragweed bad

This time of the year is bittersweet.  Sadly, the lovely yellow goldenrods (Solidago) that decorated flower beds and roadsides have been cut down by frosts and freezes. On the other hand, those same freezes knocked out the ragweed that makes me sneeze hard enough to knock the earth off its axis.

Because these two bloom at the same time, goldenrod takes the rap for allergy-sufferers’ misery. The true culprit is ragweed. Goldenrod is pollinated by bees. Its pollen is heavy. Ragweed pollen is airborne and easily inhaled. A single ragweed plant can produce over a billion grains of pollen - lots of sneezes!. There are exceptions, but usually a plant that is bee-pollinated (as opposed to air pollinated) does not have pollen that floats on every breeze, spreading misery to sensitive sinuses.  Ragweed blooms look similar to goldenrod, but they remain green and never change to gold. Gardeners can learn to distinguish between the two because ragweed leaves and branching structure differ from goldenrod.

Goldenrod is easily grown and perennial to zone 4. The roadside ditch varieties have given way to modern cultivars that are shorter, bushier and longer-blooming. These improved introductions spread less aggressively than their wild cousins, but they still colonize the surrounding soil with a fibrous web of rhizomes. Don’t plant them in locations where they can choke out weaker plants.

Goldenrods prefer full sun but will accept some shade. Once established, they are quite drought tolerant. Plants range from two feet to six feet in height, depending upon the variety. They are not picky about soil, and even seem to prefer heavy, acidic clay. The golden color combines particularly well with blue, so an easy combination includes asters, which bloom at the same time of the year. The taller variety looks good with purple Ironweed (Vernonia) and Mexican Bush Sage (Salvia leucantha).

‘Fireworks’ was introduced by the NC Botanical Garden and is widely available. It is on the taller end of the spectrum, reaching four feet or more. ‘Peter Pan’ and ‘Little Lemon’ are petite, reaching 18-24 inches.

Bonus points: Deer leave them alone.

Goldenrod blooming in the Mary Snoddy garden

Joe Pye and his Weed

American folklore tells us that a Native American Indian medicine man from Massachusetts named Joe Pye created an herbal treatment for typhoid fever using the leaves of a native plant. Today we know the plant as “Joe Pye Weed.” I don’t know if this is truth or legend, but Joe Pye Weed is a great fall flower.

Once classified as Eupatorium, these herbaceous perennials were renamed into the Eutrochium genus in the year 2000. There are five different species within the genus, but I hereby give you permission to refer to them all as Joe Pye Weeds.

These North American natives are tough. Their preferred growing site is in full sun with damp soil. They thrive in roadside ditches, especially along our southeastern mountain roads.  Under less favorable conditions, the plant height is reduced. This can be a good thing, since they can grow to 8 feet or more in a perfect cultural situation. There are also some dwarf cultivars (‘Gateway,’ ‘Baby Joe’ and ‘Little Joe’) that are easier to include in home plant designs than their taller cousins.

The dusty rose-pink flowers are a favorite of butterflies and bees. They are cold-hardy in zones 4 to 8. Plants can be cut back by half in late May to produce a shorter, bushier plant with more blooms. In winter, cut them off at ground level after the top growth is freeze-killed. You can encourage spread by cutting the dead flowers off and scattering the seeds. You can also divide in fall, but the coarse fibrous root balls take a sharp blade and some energy to separate. Replant divisions immediately, water and mulch.

Joe Pyes are a bit exuberant for tight formal beds, but look fabulous when planted with other fall-flowering plants like goldenrods, asters, some iron weeds, Mexican salvia, and tall sedums. Deer have not browsed those in the Mary Snoddy garden – yet.

Butterflies flock to the blooms of Joe Pye Weed

These Joe Pyes were planted the year before, in wet soil and full sun.

Colors of Autumn

Autumn brings changing leaf colors. Many travelers flock either to the southeast or New England where the predominant tree species produce nature’s gems of gold, orange, red and burgundy. Photosynthesis produces the chlorophyll that makes leaves green during the growing season. Color change is initiated by longer, cooler fall nights which cause photosynthesis to slow and then stop. Hue intensity varies from year to year. Plentiful summer rains allow trees to retain their leaves longer, resulting in better colors.. Conversely, summer drought can cause premature leaf shed and little to no color.

Different autumn hues are caused by three pigments: carotene, xanthophyll and anthocyanin. If you read last week’s blog on pumpkins, you recognize carotene as the substance that makes pumpkins orange. It also gives Sugar Maples their fabulous orange fall color. 

Xanthophyll produces yellow leaves, seen in aspen, beech, catalpa and hickory trees.

Anthocyanin produces red leaves. It differs from carotene and xanthophyll because it requires sunlight for production. Color concentration is enhanced by cold, sunny days. This substance gives red maples, red oaks, tupelos, sourwoods and sweetgums their rich rosy hues.

Some of my favorite plants show all the fall colors. Persian Ironwood (Parrotia persica) and Fothergilla put on a multi-hued show every fall. In the Mary Snoddy garden, a sweetgum and sugar maple grow shoulder to shoulder next to a large Southern Magnolia. The red of the sweetgum looks even more robust in contrast to the warm yellow-orange of the maple. Both colors look more intense in contrast to the deep green of the magnolia. Outside the local library, a Kousa dogwood shimmers with intense colors.

Fall colors are at the brightest when the weather pattern has included a warm, rainy spring, and sunny fall days with cool nights. All the colors look wonderful against the brilliant blue of autumn skies.

A lovely Kousa dogwood at the local library, in fall color

A view of the woods along the Blue Ridge Parkway

A view of fall color in NC, TN

Don't go batty over Bats

Today’s message is almost a guest blog. Several months ago, my friend Lisa Lawrence Brown, presented a program on bats to our garden club. I took detailed notes, and have her permission to share her interesting information with you. Since Halloween is tomorrow, it seemed a good time to pass it along.

• Bats are misunderstood. The vast majority are not bloodsuckers.

• Despite their appearance, bats are mammals, not rodents. They are the only flying mammal.

• Bats are no more likely to carry the rabies virus than any other mammal.

• There are more than 1,000 species, which equates to ¼ of the mammals in the world.

• Some species are endangered due to industry, shrinking habitat, and pollution.

• Bats are not aggressive towards people. They are not pests, but can be messy if they roost in your home or outbuildings. About 50% of bats in the US are considered endangered.

• The expression ‘blind as a bat’ is false. Bats have excellent eyesight but they rely on their “echo-location” to travel at night and find insects for food.

• Ideal nesting spots are rotted trees and caves. Two internet sources said that bat houses were usually occupied within an hour of installation.

Four benefits of bats:

1. Insect control. Every single night, they eat ¼ to ½ of their body weight in insects. An average colony can eliminate 100 tons of insects per season. Canada and Kansas are experimenting with using bats to replace farmland insecticide use.

2. Organic fertilizer. Bat poop is high in Nitrogen.

3. Great pollinators. Without bats, there would be no tequila, since the Agave plant is only pollinated by bats.

4. Bats distribute seeds through elimination.

Three ways to attract bats:

1. Provide a water source. A birdbath is adequate.

2. Use plants that bloom late afternoon or evening.

3. Offer shelter (bat houses). See internet for instructions or purchase a ready-made bat house. Preferred installation is against a building or pole rather than against a tree.

Trivia notes:

• A bat’s metabolism is so active that it can digest a mango in ten minutes or less.

• Bats are not big breeders. They have one pup per season. They enjoy a 30-year life span.

• Bats are fastidious and keep themselves very clean.

Happy Halloween!