Mushroom Brains

I found a brain while I was walking through my woodlands this week. At least I thought it was a brain. Or a pile of cooked egg noodles, which seemed just as unlikely as a brain, since civilization is at least a half mile away in all directions. Research indicated that it was a natural growth in the genus Sparassis, an edible fungus known as cauliflower mushroom. The very helpful www.MushroomExpert.com provided a key on how to distinguish the various species, but also described a “look-alike” species, Podoscypha aculeata.

My particular specimens (I found another nearby) are Sparassis americana. A fairly rare fungus, it sprouts from the roots of pine trees, not trunks, and is an indicator of brown root rot below the surface. This means I need to keep an eye on the host trees, and will have them removed when declining health warrants.

Www.Foragerchef.com describes the cauliflower mushroom as “one of the most delicious wild mushrooms you can hunt…a choice edible species.” The authors give specific instructions on cleaning (cumbersome process with lots of references to hidden insect larvae) and several recipes, ranging from soups to cauliflower “steaks.”

In the interest of science and from innate curiosity, I made a personal sacrifice for the collective benefit of my readers. As a result, I can tell you that there are marked differences in definitions of “delicious.” Edible, yes, but not something I would praise as a delicacy.

If you decide to forage for these or any other wild mushrooms, please be certain of the identity before you consume them. Several common mushrooms have deadly look-alikes.

Cauliflower mushroom looks like a pile of cooked, curly egg noodles.

White fungus growing at base of pine tree

The angle of this photo is deceptive. The fungus is larger than a softball.

Muhly Grass for Autumn Color

Autumn colors are orange, red, yellow, rust…and pink? Across the southeast, Pink Muhly Grass (Muhlenbergia capillaris, pronounced mew-len-BERG-ee-ah or mew-len-BER-jee-uh) is reaching its peak. We do not usually think of grass as a flowering plant, but there is no mistaking the decorative value of pink Muhly. Its feathery plumes float like clouds of pink cotton candy. A white-flowered form is available also but is harder to find than the pink variety. White varieties bloom a little later than pink forms.

 Mulhy is easy to grow in full sun, zones 6-9. Native to North America, it will grow in sandy, rocky, or clay soil. Avoid constantly wet soils. It is not troubled by insects or diseases, and is highly resistant to deer damage. Plants grow up to four feet tall and  three feet wide. Established plants are heat and drought tolerant. The narrow leaves sway gracefully in breezes. Flowering begins in autumn and is followed by attractive seed heads that persist through winter, providing food for birds. The purplish-pink form ages to a creamy tan color and the white form ages to an attractive gray.

 A standalone plant is attractive, but mass plantings of Muhly are gorgeous. Two pairings that are particularly attractive: Pink Muhly with purple-leaf Loropetalum,  or White Muhly paired with purple-flowered Mexican Salvia (Salvia leucanthemum).

 Plants may need to be divided every three years or so to avoid dieback in the centers. Give clumps a cleanup cut in late winter or early spring, before new growth starts, but do not cut so short that the crown is damaged. While some other grasses may become invasive, Muhly is well behaved and makes a perfect addition to the low maintenance garden.

Pink Muhly Grass used as an edging

Blooms look like cotton candy

Discouraging Deer

When I see deer in our woodlands or along the driveway, my heart softens. Those big soulful eyes, alert ears, graceful movements. I feel compassion for wild creatures that are being forced by commercial development and the housing boom into smaller and smaller native habitats. When I observe their destruction in my garden, however, my empathy disappears. I have learned to regard them as large rodents.

The deer mating season (the “rut”) begins with the onset of cooler weather here in the deep south. Male deer rub the fuzz off their antlers by scrubbing them against tree trunks. Thin bark trees are vulnerable to damage that may be fatal. In the Mary Snoddy garden, it seems deer bypass large oaks and tough hickories while targeting dogwoods, figs, and peach trees. When they are not rubbing against trees, they are eating, eating, eating. And rather than dining on the tasty plants in our woodlands, they choose to snack on whatever grows in my flowerbeds, borders, and vegetable garden.

Common but unproven discouragement strategies range from the hanging of shiny foil streamers in trees to playing a radio in the garden to using motion-activated sprinklers. Once deer have become accustomed to any of these, their initial value as a deterrent falls to zero.

Here are some coping strategies:

  • Protect vulnerable tree trunks with wire wraps or protective cages.

  • If allowed, consider erecting protective fencing. Deer are amazing jumpers, so fences will need to be eight feet or taller. Two shorter fences can be installed, one a couple of feet inside the other, so that deer do not have a good landing pad between. Electric or solar fences protect vegetable gardens, but they are not attractive.

  • Deer are creatures of habit. They follow the same trails every day. Do not plant tempting trees or shrubs along their regular paths. If you must plant one of their favorite snacks along their route, try surrounding it by plants deer avoid.

  • Spray with deer repellant products. There are many commercial products available and numerous recipes for homemade concoctions. I have had limited (read: no) success with most of these, and human hair had no discernable effect. Likewise, hanging bars of stinky soap in my trees was not a deterrent. They gnawed on the bars of Irish Spring in my fruit trees. The only repellant product that succeeds in my garden is Milorganite (a type of fertilizer derived from sanitized human waste), and it must be reapplied after every rain. An added benefit of having dogs is that deer avoid the area where the pets take care of bathroom business. Perhaps they smell the dogs as predators?

  • Select plants that deer do not favor (examples: Rosemary, Yew, Boxwood), and avoid those they prefer (examples: Hosta, Daylily, Indian Hawthorne). The NC State University Cooperative Extension has prepared an excellent report of Deer Resistant Plants for southeastern gardens. Click HERE for the full text.

Mother and fawn. Photo by Jerry King, Reidville, SC

A young male. Photo by Jerry King, Reidville, SC

Light reflects in the eyes of nocturnal-dining deer, giving them a spooky appearance.

Garden Geek Speak: Buffer pH

Summer is winding down, and it is time to start thinking about next year’s garden. One of the smartest things a gardener can do is to submit a soil sample to the nearest extension office. For a nominal fee, a University lab will evaluate your soil and provide a list of recommendations on amendments.

Why test soil now instead of next spring? Many southeastern beds, borders and lawns need an application of lime (limestone) to adjust the pH of the soil. Without a correct pH, plants cannot efficiently absorb available nutrients. Lime works slowly. Obtain your recommended application rate now, apply it after the end-of-summer cleanup, and allow fall season rains to carry it into the soil where the adjustment process will take place during winter.

Because my gardening beds are not located near each other, they have different needs. I select three areas each year for soil testing. Recommendations are geared toward the plants grown in the test area, so my blueberry beds will have one set of recommendations, my shade garden (hostas and ferns) will have another, and the perennial beds on a rocky southwestern slope will have yet another. Next year I will select three different areas for testing. While you could test annually, I find that once every three years is sufficient.

Fortunately, the University-generated amendment recommendations are spelled out in terms almost anyone can understand. For instance, here is the recommended zinc application for new pecan trees: Use 1 pound of 16-4-8 or 1½ pounds of 12-6-6 fertilizer distributed in a 25-square-foot area around the tree. Make this application immediately after planting and again in June or July. The following February, apply 4 pounds of 16-4-8 or 5 pounds of 12-6-6 fertilizer for each inch of trunk diameter (measured 1 foot above soil surface). Pretty clear, yes?

There is one item on the soil analysis which is confusing. There is one number for Soil pH and another number for Buffer pH. The two numbers are not the same. What is the difference? Simply put, Buffer pH measures a soil’s resistance to change. A soil with high clay content will take a different quantity of product (lime, sulphur or aluminum) to effect pH change than a soil with high sand content. The soil pH meters sold in garden centers can provide a measurement of soil pH, but they cannot give an application rate based on soil structure.

Don’t waste time and money with guessing. I learned this the hard way. After applying 10-10-10 fertilizer to my beds for years, my first soil test indicated a phosphorus level that was off the chart. (I like to blame Martha Stewart’s garden book recommendation for Triple SuperPhosphate, but the fault is all mine. Her Connecticut soil needed phosphate. My South Carolina soil did not.) Out of balance soils take time to correct. It took several years before my excessive phosphorus dropped to a normal level. Before I knew better, the addition of 10-10-10 always made my plants look better short-term as they took up the available nitrogen. Nitrogen leaches out quickly, so as soon as the first flush of growth subsided, plants looked a little unhealthy and I added more 10-10-10 or 17-17-17, making the imbalance worse. While it seems that a fertilizer “with added micronutrients!” should be superior, it is only better if your soil actually needs those micronutrients.

Following the instructions provided, gather a soil sample and stick to the resulting recommendations. It is important to follow good sampling technique so that the resulting recommendation is accurate. As a side note, it is usually unnecessary for homeowners to pay extra money for a lab-generated Organic Matter Test. It sounds like it should be useful, but this measurement is used by farmers to calculate how much herbicide they need for crop treatment.

When spreading lime or fertilizer in a narrow bed, perhaps one surrounded by lawn or patio, it is difficult to use a mechanical spreader without getting the product where you don’t want it. Spreading by hand can be uneven and tiring if your beds are large. Here is my method: Take a clean, empty plastic quart container (mayonnaise jar is perfect). Remove the top and use an electric drill to make holes in the lid. For fertilizer, I use a 3/8” bit and make a lot of holes. Adjust your hole size and quantity to the product you are spreading. Fill the dry container with fertilizer or lime, attach the lid and you have a giant “salt shaker.” The light weight of the container makes for easy application. I keep one of these homemade spreaders in every bag of fertilizer, ant bait or pelleted insecticides. If you measure the correct amount of fertilizer for the given space into the jar, it is easy to avoid applying too much.

Clear plastic jar with blue lid, numerous small holes in lid

Container Plants and Heat

Follow a few steps to keep container plants happy during the hottest part of the summer.

First, choose plastic or composite containers rather than clay or metal. Avoid dark-colored pots. Unglazed terracotta allows rapid evaporation of soil moisture, and metal can get hot enough to damage roots. Insulate the inside walls of iron urns or cast aluminum containers with bubble wrap or several layers of newspaper to keep soil cooler. Go big rather than little. Large containers do not dry out as quickly as smaller ones, and close grouping of containers will form a protective community, reducing evaporation in each. “Self-watering” containers have a hidden reservoir that captures water, and allows overflow to be available to the container. Do not allow plants to sit permanently in saucers of water or roots will rot. Mosquitoes breed in standing water, too.

Potting soil with high organic matter will retain moisture better than low-humus soils. For years, I purchased hydrogels and added them to my container soil mix. Hydrogels were first patented by two employees of Union Carbide Company in 1967. They are crystals about the size of large grains of sugar and can hold 600 times their weight in water. When water is absorbed, they look like clear jellybeans. The theory is that they will absorb moisture (from rain or irrigation) and release it back to the roots during dry periods. However, university lab tests (Washington State University, documented by Linda Chalker-Scott – click HERE to read additional info) showed that this retained moisture is not necessarily transferred to plants. In the WSU lab, several brands of hydrogels were used in the testing. The plants were grown in 1-gallon containers and watered when the medium was less than 80% saturated. After all of the plants matured to the same size, watering was stopped and the plants were allowed to dry out. Each plant was tested at regular intervals to determine moisture content. The results showed that none of the hydrogels kept plants supplied with water any better than the plants that had nothing added to the soil. One product actually stunted the growth to the plants to which it was applied. The crystals break down in five years or so, and degrade into carcinogenic neurotoxins. Ugh! A light top-dressing of a fine-textured mulch WILL reduce evaporation. A groundcover in a container will also help keep soil cool and moist – think Creeping Jenny, Ajuga or Dianthus.

Unless they are huge, containers can be repositioned to avoid full sun exposure during periods of punishing heat. Protect pots from excessive wind. Thirsty plants may require twice daily watering in sweltering heat. Ideally, drip irrigation can run to containers, but this restricts their repositioning.

Selecting heat-tolerant and drought-tolerant specimens makes good sense. Succulents are available in different colors and forms. Most are relatively inexpensive. A single Agave or Yucca can be quite attractive. Plants with grayish foliage or wooly leaves are almost always good choices for hot spaces.

This lovely Ixora is in a plastic container which has been inserted into a decorative clay pot. The double potting provides insulation against heat and prevents excess evaporation.

Weed Rant: Horse Nettle

It is time for another weed rant. Horse nettle, Solanum carolinense (pronounced so-LAN-num kair-oh-lin-EN-say), is number two on my list of Weeds From Hades. (Number one is mulberryweed. Click HERE to review A Terrible, Horrible, No Good Weed.) Horse nettle has two, and only two, positive attributes. It is southeastern native, and bumblebees love the pale lavender flowers. If I was feeling generous toward this plant demon (I’m not), I could add that wild turkey, quail and a few songbirds enjoy the berries. The berries and all other parts of the plant are seriously toxic to humans, pets, and livestock.

Horse nettle is found in more than half of the USA. It is a tap-rooted perennial that will grow in any type of soil and any pH. It grows along sunny roadsides, in open fields, and in cultivated gardens. I thought that tilling the soil in my orchard would vanquish this foe, but instead the tilling process broke the root and its fleshy rhizomes into pieces, all of which returned with a vengeance. I do not use herbicides in areas where food is grown, so the only method of removal is digging and pulling. The razor-sharp prickles penetrate thin garden gloves, so I have added a pair of cheap pliers to my bucket of garden tools. I grasp the base of the plant with the pliers and lift gently, while using a tool in the other hand to loosen and lift the rhizomes that radiate off the tap root. It is a slow process, better done after a rain has softened the soil. [Side note: Prickles are modified plant hairs, spines are modified leaves, and thorns are modified stems. Roses have prickles, not thorns. Best not to mention this to poetry-writing friends.] Even if the prickles do not stab you, the star-shaped hairs cause misery when they brush against an unprotected ankle.

Young horse nettle leaves resemble tomato. Stems zig-zag and become woody with age. Plants may be 30 inches or more in height, but tend to sprawl rather than growing upright. They flower from spring all the way into fall. The fruits are round green marbles containing several seeds each. In late fall, the green fruits turn yellow and can be mistaken for a tiny tomato. Fully ripe berries wrinkle a bit. If you have children or grandchildren, please educate them about this plant. Ripe, yellow fruits are even more toxic than the green ones. Consuming them can lead to coma or death. Not only does horse nettle stab the careless gardener, it also plays host to tobacco hornworms and Colorado potato beetles.

If herbicide is your chosen method for eradication, check the label to be certain it is listed. Horse nettle is resistant to some herbicides (2,4D for instance) and repeated mowing has no effect.

Other common names for horse nettle include bull nettle, devil’s tomato, or apple of Sodom. The name of those in the Mary Snoddy garden is not fit for print.

Volunteer Plants

A “volunteer” plant is defined as one you did not intentionally start from seed or transplant. Often. these volunteers perform better than plants purchased or started from seeds. Occasionally, you regret their arrival.

 When I moved two years ago, I accidentally brought dormant seeds of Petunia integrifolia along with my potted Peony bulbs. This wild petunia (not to be confused with Ruellia, which also goes by the common name Wild Petunia) is an ancestor of the cultivated variety we buy today. My husband calls them “granny petunias.” In flower shades of purple, these lax plants spread themselves about with wild abandon. In a single season, they have inserted themselves between every one of my 50+ Peonies and even marched downhill to pop up in random areas of my small orchard. I allow these gratuitous plants to remain wherever they place themselves because (1) they flower a long time and add a lot of color, (2) the foliage has a fragrance and sticky texture that encourage critters to leave it alone, (3) they ignore heat and drought, and (4) even if plants die due to neglect, they usually drop seeds that will germinate and rapidly grow to flowering size, meaning the show goes on for months and months, with no encouragement from me. If they grow too lanky, a severe cutback will generate new growth and renewed flowering. Due to their unkempt growth habit, these plants look better from a distance.

Brown-eyed Susan seeds (Rudbeckia triloba) hitchhiked to the new location in pots of purple Coneflower. When young, the Susan’s foliage mimics Coneflower (Echinacea) so closely that I did not realize their separate identity until they began flowering. They share the same cultural preferences as the Coneflower, and are in full bloom right now. I have transplanted a dozen or so, and given away twice that many. A native heat-lover that is perennial in zones 4-9, the yellow flowers are a pollinator favorite. They make long-lasting cut flowers.

I am uncertain of the origin of native annual Spider Flowers (Cleome hassleriana) which arose in an area that was heavy woodlands before land clearing that took place in March of this year. A single plant appeared in May and was covered with flowers. Three more plants emerged nearby in June but one of these was decapitated, although whether by animals or human means is unknown. As dusk approaches, giant Sphinx moths (look like fuzzy hummingbirds) visit to sip nectar. Older varieties of Cleome will reseed heavily. Newer introductions are both shorter (two feet tall versus five feet of older generations) and sterile, so reseeding is not a concern.

Finally, Perilla frutescens made the move from old garden to new. I love the ruffled purple foliage of this mint relative but the reseeding is insane. Flowers are inconsequential, but the foliage makes a great vase addition, especially when paired with pink flowers. Once flowering begins, I remove and discard them, leaving only a single plant to ensure I have some for the following year. Many friends have asked for a transplant, and then berated me soundly after they ignored the advice to remove it before seeds started to drop. More than once, I have heard, “How could you have given me such a thug? That **** is everywhere!” Years ago, I was speaking to a garden club on unwelcome volunteers. I brought examples as visual learning aids. When I held up the example of Perilla and said, “If anyone gives you this plant and tells you that it is purple Basil, that person is NOT your friend.” There was an uncomfortable shifting in the seats and some averted eyes. I knew that I had touched a nerve somehow, but it was not until after my presentation was over and the meeting concluded that I learned the source of disquiet. One of the members walked me to my car and shared that the club president had given each person a Perilla plant the prior meeting, telling them that it was purple Basil. Oopsie! Let’s assume she was ignorant and not evil.

Herein is the rub. A few plants that arrive as volunteers are like guests that just won’t leave. Perilla, above, is one of them. Pink Evening Primose (Oenothera speciosa) is another. Before you allow a volunteer to remain in your garden, do a little research to be certain it will not displace better-behaved specimens. An additional caution: Vegetable plants that arise from seeds dropped the prior year may look like their mother plant but not taste the same. The curcubits (squash, pumpkin, melons, cucumbers) are prone to producing volunteers with bitter or tasteless fruits. If the fruits of a volunteer do not look or taste the same as their mother plant, do not eat them. Pull the plant and discard it. Tomato plants frequently arise where seeds fell the prior year. (I am super guilty of not harvesting rotten or split tomatoes.) If the mother plant was a hybrid, its offspring will not have the same benefits of hybridization. Volunteer tomato plants may be less disease-resistant, and fruits may be less flavorful and more prone to splitting, cat-facing, hard green spots, etc. I am pleased to report that my favorite cherry tomato, ‘Camp Joy,’ comes true from dropped seeds each year. The vigorous, indeterminate plants set an enormous number of quarter-sized fruits with real tomato flavor, acidic enough to be tasty with none of that too-sugary sweetness.

Enjoy your volunteers – but make sure they are polite keepers.

What is a Cottage Garden?

Cottage gardens evolved from Victorian kitchen gardens. “Cottage” meant a small, informal home on a small lot. These were homes of workers, not nobility. Working class folks had little leisure time for complicated pruning, lawncare, or rows of plants transferred from a hothouse. Their garden plots were originally used for food cultivation. Over time, food gave way to flowers or a combination of food and flora.

Cottage gardens share main elements. A white picket fence, stone walls, or clipped evergreen hedges (boxwood or privet) often define the perimeter. Informal paths of woodchips, gravel, bricks, or stepping stones lead the visitor through the garden. Any concrete paths are softened by allowing flowers to billow over the edges. Trellises, sundials, birdbaths, benches or planters are focal features, while the plantings themselves are a combination of shrubs, annuals and perennials, with emphasis on flowers of many colors and shapes These may be planted in graduated heights with taller plants at back, or sited in a patchwork arrangement, with tall specimens at front, back and throughout, living shoulder to shoulder with shorter companions. To accommodate the contrasting heights, borders are typically deep and grass lawns are limited in size. Sometimes turf only appears as a mowed walking strip between flower beds. Seen from a distance, the cottage garden is a riot of color. Plants are meant to spread and lean into one another, with little or no visible spaces between.

Roses, coneflowers, daisies, Nicotiana, and foxgloves are traditional favorites for the cottage garden. Sweet peas are also a traditional choice but they are short-lived in southeastern heat. Likewise, I have attempted to grow Lady's Mantle (Alchemilla) and killed it each attempt, so have moved onto plants that are more tolerant of heat and neglect. Some of my friends in cooler zones report their Lady’s Mantle is so prolific it borders on invasive. I am envious.

Herbs such as rosemary or thyme offer fragrance in cottage beds, and lamb’s ears, dusty miller or Artemesia are commonly used to provide a sensory element. Flowering vines such as jasmine, honeysuckle or Clematis can be grown on a trellis or tuteur to introduce a vertical element. Small flowering trees can do the same. Redbud, dogwood, crabapple or flowering cherry add both color and height.

The goal is to have flowers in bloom through the entire growing season. My favorite long-flowering perennials are tall Phlox, dwarf butterfly bush (Buddleia), Lantana, Bee Balm (Monarda), and coneflower (Echinacea). My favorite annuals are Melampodium, Four O’ Clocks (Mirabilis), Spider flower (Cleome), and Cosmos, all of which reseed readily, withstand heat, tolerate a wide range of soils, and need little maintenance other than deadheading. For cool season flowers, Johnny Jump Ups (Viola) are outstanding and they reseed readily.

Several shades of Four O’ Clocks mingle with white Nicotiana and a blue Mophead Hydrangea. Magenta Rose Campion is at the back of the bed. Orange and yellow daylilies are at the right, near the birdbath.

Heat-tolerant Plants

Southeastern gardeners expect July and August to be hot, but the past week has been brutal across most of the country. Millions of Americans experienced “feels like” temperature of 100 degrees or more. Utility providers are pleading for users to reduce their consumption and water restrictions are in place. Everywhere, gardens suffer. I do not have inground irrigation and I refuse to pamper finicky plants. Through the years, I have found a few flowers that will withstand my tough love approach and bloom through steamy weather, with a minimal amount of supplemental water.

Clusters of lavender Society Garlic contrast with the yellow flowers of Rudbeckia, behind. The grass-like foliage has a skunky odor if crushed. Rabbits and deer avoid it.

The small flowerbed close to our entrance is planted with yellow, purple, and orange heat lovers. Purple Coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea ), several Salvia selections, and Society Garlic (Tulbaghia violacea) have purple or lavender flowers, while Purple Heart (Tradescantia pallida) offers violet foliage. They contrast nicely with the butter yellow flowers of annual Melampodium (one of my top performers) and the towering yellow Coneflower, Rudbeckia ‘Herbstonne.’ Orange Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa) flowers in late spring. I cut it back by half and it reblooms in July and August. Finally, Jerusalem Cherry (Solanum pseudocapsicum) has bright orange, inedible fruits that glow against dark green foliage. Jerusalem Cherry can be invasive, so I keep a careful eye on it, removing spent fruits before they can reseed. It was a heritage plant whose ancestors grew in my grandparents’ garden when I was a child. Just to keep things lively, a trio of Shasta Daisy ‘Becky’ contribute a pop of white, with orange-yellow centers. Lots of color, with limited effort.

Other plants that will withstand heat include Lantana, Butterfly Bush (look for sterile Buddleia like the Pugster® series to avoid reseeding), Zinnia, Spider Flower (Cleome hassleriana), Cosmos (both C. sulphurens and C. bipinnatus), Ice Plant (Portulaca), and Turk’s Turban (Malvaviscus). The first three will benefit from deadheading, but the others eject spent flowers unaided.

As our weather patterns change, gardeners can be good stewards of our resources by transitioning away from super-thirsty plants to those that will thrive with less. We do not need to restrict ourselves to only Cacti and desert plants. Small changes made by many people result in large water-use reduction.

Instead of spreading thirsty plants across the entire garden, clustering them in one area will reduce the need for dragging a hose around. Watering your heavy drinkers with a soaker hose will reduce water lost to evaporation. Mulch will reduce evaporation and keep soil cooler.

The butter-yellow flowers of Melampodium contrast with the violet foliage of Purple Heart.

The orange fruits of Jerusalem Cherry draw attention. The orange Zinnia to the left was self-seeded, a volunteer from last year’s dropped seeds. Behind the Society Garlic, peep the yellow flowers of a young Melampodum, also a volunteer seedling.

The Chelsea Chop

What is “The Chelsea Chop,” a term I hear from professional garden-tenders? In simple terms, it is a mid-season cutback for flowering perennial plants. It earned its catchy moniker in the UK, where border plants are pruned hard around the same time as London’s famous Chelsea Flower Show (May).

American weather, soil type, and growing season differs from lands across the pond, but a mid-summer cutback is a great idea for many plants, including Yarrow (Achillea), Coneflowers (Echinacea), Artemisia, Catnip (Nepeta), Bee Balm (Monarda), Salvia, and Gaura. If a perennial blooms well during spring and fall but takes a flowering siesta in the hottest part of the summer, it may be a good candidate for the chop. Pruned perennials will often branch and produce new buds and leaves, with a rounded, tidy appearance. Annual flowers do not respond as well as perennials. I applied the Chelsea Chop to annual Spider Flower (Cleome) last year and was left with a bed of headless stems that neither branched nor rebloomed.

When orange Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa) sheds its flowers, a cutback by half will often spur a second bloom that rivals the first, and new foliage looks fresher than older, tattered leaves and stems. Butterfly larvae seem to prefer the tender new stems over tougher, aged ones.

When pruned in mid-June (upper SC area), fall-flowering Aster, Joe Pye Weed, Chrysanthemum, and NY Ironweed (Vernonia) will bloom about two weeks later than unpruned plants and will have smaller but more numerous flowers. Pinching out the growing tips of tall Sedums (“Autumn Joy” and the like) will cause branching and prevent their tendency to fall open at their centers during peak fall bloom time. With few exceptions, I halt serious perennial surgical reductions on July 4. Later pruning may remove flower buds or cause a growth spurt of tender growth that will later be damaged by early cold spells.

An exception to this timing recommendation is my treatment of Daylily (Hemerocallis). These reliable bulbs flower during the hottest part of the year. When the flower show is over, the foliage starts to brown and dry into an unattractive, stringy blob. I do not have the time to remove each brown leaf individually, so once all flowers have faded, I gather the foliage of each clump and decapitate it, leaving four to six inches. Then, I give the buzz-cut plants a drink of liquid fertilizer. While they will not repeat flowering, they will push out new, bright green foliage that looks good all the way into fall. This approach does not seem to weaken the plant or reduce flowering in future years.

Rather than performing a wholesale chop-chop-chop on everything, I follow advice I read years ago in a wonderful book, The Well-Tended Perennial Garden: The Essential Guide to Planting and Pruning Techniques by Tracey DiSabato-Aust (Published by Timber Press in 2017, also available in Kindle version). I cut back half the plant in June and leave the other half to flower on its original schedule. Sometimes I prune the perimeter of the plant and leave the center untouched, and sometimes (when I’m feeling especially patient) I select every other stem in the overall bunch to reduce. When the latter approach is done carefully, an observer does not notice any pruning has been done. See the accompanying before and after photos of Shasta Daisy ‘Becky’ for an example. The removal of roughly one third of the bloom stems is unnoticeable. If the half-chop method is used, remove spent flowers from the early flowering, unpruned stems or the plant may put its energy into seed-making and not produce a second round of blooms. 

As tempting as it is to use a hedge-trimmer for a quick pruning job, the best results come from pruning individual stems back with hand pruners, cutting just above where a leaf joins the stem. The prune-to-a-leaf method eliminates naked stem orphans that will darken and wither, and may offer an opportunity for disease entry.

All plants look better when dead flowers are removed. But please, remove the entire stem down to the first leaf or even shorter. Do not snap the flowers off and leave headless stems. That’s just creepy.

Bee Balm is Nature's Form of Fireworks

Fireworks exploded across the nation Monday night in celebration of Independence Day. In the garden, Bee Balm (Monarda didyma and Monarda fistulosa) blooms are exploding into Nature’s version of fireworks. Monarda is pronounced moe-NAR-da.

Bee Balm is a heat-loving, native perennial that should be in every sunny pollinator garden. Its square stems tell the gardener that it is a member of the mint family. Like mint, it spreads aggressively by underground runners and can become invasive if not restrained. Plants are hardy zones 4 through 9. They prefer acid to neutral soil, and tolerate heavy clay. They are heat-tolerant, but moist soil produces a prettier, healthier specimen.

Bee Balm can be propagated by seed, division, or cuttings. To prevent spreading, create a collar by cutting the top 4-5 inches off a nursery pot, then sinking it a couple of inches into the soil around the plant. The collar will serve as a STOP sign to encroaching roots. Be alert for any small plants that manage to evade the barrier. After a couple of years, lift congested plants, divide, and replant.

Plants can reach four feet or more, and may need staking to keep them upright after summer thunderstorms. They tend to flop when grown in part-sun areas. Older cultivars developed a bad reputation for their proclivity to disfiguring mildew and rust. New introductions are both disease resistant and shorter to reduce the need for staking. ‘Jacob Cline’ (red) and ‘Grand Marshall’ (fuchsia to purple) are two mildew-resistant cultivars. Good air circulation helps prevent mildew problems. If your plants fall victim to mildew, try to ignore the ugly leaves rather than using fungicides that may have a negative impact on pollinators.

Bee Balm blooms have a complicated structure which is better demonstrated by a photo than description. Plants have an extended flowering period even if they are not deadheaded, although removing spent flowers make a more attractive show.

Bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds love the flowers, while deer and rabbits leave plants alone. This may be because of the strong fragrance of the foliage. Bee Balm is one of the rare plants that will grow well near Black Walnut trees. The leaves and flowers can be used to make teas or flavor jellies. Presumably, the Oswego Indian tribe brewed the leaves, because a common name that has fallen from wide use is Oswego Tea.

This Bee Balm appears to advantage when seen against a fence.

The equivalent of an “Eat Here” sign for pollinators.

This sign made me giggle. The nursery hired someone who wasn’t familiar with Bee Balm, so the new employee labeled it as he heard it: B Bomb. (I blurred the name of the nursery out of respect.)

Catnip As A Mosquito Repellant

Does catnip  (Nepeta cataria, pronounced NEP-eh-tuh kat-AR-ee-ah) repel mosquitos? A recent article in iScience says, “Yes.” (Read the full text here.)

A perenial herb, catnip is among a group of plants that produce compounds, called iridoids, which discourage insect attacks. Two of these compounds are nepetalactol and nepetalactone. The latter substance attracts cats, who often nibble the leaves or rub against the plants. A couple of our felines prefer to dive into the middle of mine as if they are wading pools on a steamy day. Then they aimlessly race around (“the zoomies”) for a while before they collapse for a nap. If disturbed, they may open their dilated eyes and acknowledge my presence with a little chirp, almost as if saying, “That’s some good Nip, man.”

Now, science tells us that those same compounds are an effective mosquito repellant. A research collaboration between Northwestern University and Lund University (published in Current Biology journal) indicate that crushed catnip can be as effective as the synthetic compound DEET and is safer. Silver vine (Actinidia polygama), a relative of the Kiwi vine, has even more insect-fighting substances although it is less commonly grown.

Simply growing catnip near your deck, pool, or treehouse will not do the deed. Leaves must be damaged (torn or bruised) to release the mosquito-fighting magic. The oil from crushed catnip leaves also repels fruit flies.

Catnip is easily started from seed or can be divided. It will grow in full sun to part sun in any well-drained soil, zones 3 through 9, preferring part sun in hotter zones. It has attractive spikes of blue-to-purple flowers that bees and butterflies love. As a member of the mint family, square-stemmed catnip is a vigorous grower and can become woody and shrub-like with age. Prune it back hard after blooming to encourage repeat flowering and keep the plant compact. The next time I prune those in the Mary Snoddy garden, I plan to put squashed leaves and stems around the deck to test out the mosquito-repelling scheme.

Nom, nom, nom.

Blossom End Rot on Tomatoes

A perfectly ripe, home-grown tomato is a thing of beauty and unparalleled flavor, the perfect combination of acid and sweetness. Mother Nature seems to plot against us, marring our perfect fruits with various maladies. One of these is Blossom End Rot. There is a lot of misinformation out there, so here are the facts, straight from institutions of higher learning.

Blossom End Rot on tomatoes is a common problem. It presents first as a discolored, water-soaked patch on the bottom (“blossom end”) of the fruit, opposite the stem. With age, the watery spot becomes firm and leathery. Such spots may be small or up to one-third of the fruit. They may occur on green fruit or ripe fruit, rendering it inedible. A quick internet search will reveal that Blossom End Rot is caused by a lack of calcium.

Incorrect advice abounds on how to add calcium: stir ground eggshells into the surrounding soil, water with powdered milk, bury scraps of Gypsum board (“sheetrock”) nearby, or (most amusing) water plants with a couple of dissolved antacid tablets such as Tums. Yes, Blossom End Rot is caused by a shortage of calcium in the fruit’s tissues, but it may have nothing to do with the calcium present in the surrounding soil. The problem can be found in plants growing in soil with plentiful calcium. So what gives?

Scientifically speaking, Calcium is a large molecule. It takes a lot of water to move Calcium from the soil through roots and stems to where it is needed, in the fruit. If a soil test indicates sufficient Calcium, applying consistent water will remedy the problem. Note that the solution is consistent irrigation, not necessarily more. Over-watering interferes with a plant’s ability to absorb available nutrients from the soil. Over-fertilizing forces the plant to grow faster and worsens the problem. Root damage caused by energetic cultivation also exacerbates the issue.

 How to deal with the problem:

  1. Prior to planting, perform a soil test to ensure an acceptable pH and sufficient nutrients, including Calcium. A soil that is too acidic can prevent the uptake of nutrient. High acidity is treated by the addition of lime (limestone). Do not add lime unless the soil test indicates a need,

  2. Water consistently. One inch per week, either via rain or irrigation, is ideal. More may be needed in the hottest part of the summer.

  3. Use a soaker hose or ground-level irrigation rather than overhead watering. Wet leaves may encourage certain diseases.

  4. Use mulch to aid in soil moisture retention.

  5. Don’t try to “push” tomatoes by over-fertilizing.

  6. Remove any fruit that shows signs of Blossom End Rot. While it does not spread from fruit to fruit or from plant to plant, the affected tomato will be inedible.

  7. Do not try to treat Blossom End Rot with insecticides or fungicides. They have no effect.

What about those spray-on calcium products? Allow me to quote directly from a Clemson Extension agent: “Sprays of any form of calcium, such as calcium chloride, do NOT reduce the problem of blossom end rot. Foliar applied calcium will indeed go into the leaves, but will not be translocated into the stems or into the forming fruit. One can treat each plant with a SOIL applied form of water soluble calcium, like gypsum, which is calcium sulfate. So, apply 1 tablespoon calcium sulfate around each tomato plant per month and water it into the soil for root uptake. This will reduce Blossom End Rot. Plants need mulch to keep soil moisture uniform, and when hot, plants may need to be watered every 1 to 2 days. When the soil gets dry, plants have a difficult time taking up the calcium they need, especially during the rapid growth in late spring/early summer. Blossom End Rot is usually only a problem in the first 2 or 3 months of the growing season, so that may be all that is needed. Do not over apply the calcium, as nutrients will compete to get into the plant, and you don’t want to affect the balance of nutrients in the soil by over-loading it with calcium. If one uses leaf compost and mixes it into the soil prior to planting, it too can add the needed calcium for plant uptake.”

About the aforementioned misinformation: Gardeners can protect themselves from well-meant but incorrect advice by a simple search restriction. For example, if you type “tomato problems” into a Google search bar, you will receive ten pages of search results, some of which are helpful and others which are designed to sell you a product. If you add the term “site:.edu” after your search term, you receive six pages of science-based results, produced by university research. University sites have web addresses that end in .edu rather than .com or .org. I never do any horticulture research without using this tool. [Search term + space + site + the colon symbol + dot + edu]. To quote the character Joe Friday in Dragnet, give me “just the facts, ma’am.”

Tomatoes with Blossom End Rot. Photo by Joey Williamson, Clemson University. Used with permission.

Queen Anne's Lace

When a plant’s common name includes “weed” many people are hesitant to introduce them into a cultivated garden. But those same weeds can prove to be resilient, hardy, and attractive. Consider Butterfly Weed (Asclepias) or Iron Weed (Vernonia) as two examples. The downside of growing weeds is the possibility that they can be TOO resilient, even bordering on invasive. That is the case with today’s featured plant, Queen Anne’s Lace.

Queen Anne’s Lace (Daucus carota, pronounced DAW-kus kar-OH-tah) has a fat, carrot-like tap root that helps it survive in hot, dry climates. It is quick to spring up in disturbed areas, and is listed as invasive in more than 20 states. Queen Anne’s Lace, also called Wild Carrot, Bee’s Nest or Devil’s Plague, is a biennial. It develops lacy basal foliage in its first year, then blooms second year. Mature plants range from 2-4 feet, with a narrow footprint. It is found in all the lower 48 states, in full sun to part shade.

Queen Anne’s Lace flowers are flat white umbrels up to four inches across with one little purple flower dot in the middle. If you place cut flowers’ stems in colored water (use a few drops of the same vegetable-based colors used in cake icing), the blooms rapidly take up the dye and will change from white to a pastel shade of the selected color. I thought every child had done this at least once, but it appears I was mistaken.

Spent flower heads curl up on the edges into a brown cup-like form that resembles a bird’s nest. They become brittle when dry. Winds break them off their stems, and they tumble about, spreading seeds far and wide. This promiscuous habit, along with their tolerance for any type soil and any pH, means that they spread everywhere unless consistently deadheaded. Cut stems stink but the smell wanes fast enough to enjoy them as cut flowers. I once had to resort to herbicide to rid a perennial bed of these, and have since decided to just enjoy them along roadsides. They are prolific in my area of the southeast. Bees and butterflies love the flowers, and swallowtail butterfly caterpillars eat the foliage.

Parts of the plants can be cooked and eaten in small quantities, but larger amounts are toxic. Contact with leaves and stems can cause dermatitis. Unless one in starving in the wilderness, I see to need to test out the toxicity threshold. If you feel the need to consume, be positive of your plant identification. Queen Anne’s Lace is easily confused with Wild Parsnip and Wild Hemlock. Consuming either of these can be deadly. Wild Hemlock is the plant that killed Socrates. Its stem has purple spots.

Cluster of tiny white flowers into a single umbrell

Note the single purple flower in the middle. Not every umbrell has this oddity.

A single plant, flowering in an undeveloped roadside.

A community of Queen Anne’s Lace shows how the plant can multiply into large communities.

Elderberry (Sambucus)

Along partially shaded roadsides, Elderberry is putting on its summer show. Elderberry, Sambucus canadensis (pronounced sam-BYOO-kus can-uh-DEN-sis) is an American native that thrives in moist soils but will survive in wet or dry locations, acidic to neutral soils, full sun to mostly shade. It seems to prefer areas that have previously been clear cut, such as under power lines. Mature plants grow up to 12 feet tall and 12 feet wide. This deciduous shrub is hardy in zones 4 to 9. It is very heat tolerant. If suckers are not removed, shrubs spread by underground runners to form dense thickets. Birds, especially quail, like to nest in their branches.

Flat-topped clusters of white Elderberry flowers are favored by bees and butterflies. The flowers are followed by blue-black berries. According to Texas A&M University, up to 45 species of songbirds eat the fruit, as well as deer and other mammals. Berries are toxic to humans if eaten raw but once cooked can be enjoyed in jelly, pie, or other desserts. Do not allow horses to eat any part of the plant. Both flowers and fruits can be used to make elderberry wine. I’m told that it is delicious, but I can’t get past the toxic-when-raw issue.

Aside: In the delightful play or movie Arsenic and Old Lace, elderberry wine conceals the poison used to permanently relieve unsuspecting visitors of loneliness. A couple of movie versions exist. I recommend the 1943 release, directed by Frank Capra and starring Cary Grant. It is set on Halloween night, but is an enjoyable watch any month of the year.

Plant breeders have elevated the desirability of this common roadside plant by introducing non-green foliage varieties. Proven Winners offers Black Lace® Elderberry a finely cut plant with pink flowers against purple-black foliage. Affordable price, fast growth, and undemanding nature makes it a great alternative to Japanese Maple. I managed to walk away from Black Lace®, but I simply couldn’t resist another Proven Winners introduction, Lemony Lace® Elderberry. Its finely cut, chartreuse foliage looks fabulous in a grouped planting or standalone. Both these Lace cultivars are smaller (5 feet for Lemony Lace® and 8 feet for Black Lace®) than their wilder cousins, which means they could be grown in containers. The reduced size comes at a cost. They are less heat tolerant, and only recommended as far south as Zone 7. Both are “deer resistant.” We shall see…

 

Elderberry shrub flowers and buds

Elderberry flowers and buds

Elderberry shrub growing on an uncultivated roadside

Elderberry shrub with chartreus foliage

Check out the color and texture of Lemony Lace — Be still my heart!

Elderberry fruit cluster

Elderberry fruit cluster
Image by EM80 from Pixabay

A typical location to find wild Elderberry: underneath power lines

Ghost Pipe - A Non-Smoking Plant

I discovered a new (to me) plant this week: Monotropa uniflora, commonly known as Ghost Pipe or Indian Pipe. “Commonly known” is a bit misleading, however, since my research revealed that while the plant is found across the US, its occurrence is somewhat rare. It is absent in the southwest.

My sighting of the plant was accidental. My Australian Cattle Dog and I were riding from the house to the mailbox, when I spotted something white in the woods alongside the drive. Thinking it was wind-blown trash, I stopped to collect it for disposal. And spent the next half hour on my hands and knees, admiring these weird communities of colorless plants. The longer I remained nose-to-ground, the more of them I discovered. I assumed that they were some form of mushroom, but research revealed that it is not a fungus.

Ghost Pipe is not a saprophyte, which is a plant that lives off decaying plant, like mushrooms. Ghost Pipe (also known as Indian Pipe) does not photosynthesize like other plants do. Instead, it feeds off mycorrhizal fungus attached to the roots of another plant. This absence of photosynthesis explains why there is no green color to the plant. Ghost Pipes do not harm their hosts.

Ghost Pipes occur in wooded areas when an extended dry spell is followed by rain. They are usually located near Beech (Fagus) trees. Since they do not need sunlight for photosynthesis, they can survive in the deep shade of thick woodlands. Flowers dangle like bells until they mature, when they straighten their curved necks. They have a light, sweet fragrance. If you are lucky enough to spot these weirdos, don’t be tempted to pick one. Stems and flowers turn black when picked.

The colorless flower of Ghost Pipe. My apologies for the dirty fingernails (“a gardener’s French manicure”). This is what happens when you dig in the dirt for fun.

A Ghost Pipe community

Interesting Alternative to Miniature Hosta

Drimiopsis maculata is a diminutive groundcover, reaching only 6 to 8 inches. Common names include Little White Soldiers, African False Hosta, and Spotted Leopard Lily or simply, Leopard Lily. The “white soldiers” name refers to the spring and summer flowers, which are small, tightly packed clusters that look like a white Grape Hyacinth. The “lily” reference is to the bulb, which is fleshy like a Daffodil rather than overlapping scales like a Lily or Garlic.

Leopard Lily is listed as cold-hardy in zones 8-10, but has grown well for me in Zone 7b for many years. It has the same cultural needs as most Hosta – moist soil with acidic to neutral pH, part to full shade. Leaves emerge directly from the bulb, without stems. Its purple freckles are darker in more shade. The spots may fade away later in the summer. Given a little fertilizer and irrigation during dry periods, Leopard Lily will spread reliably if not rapidly. It will withstand some drought; wilted leaves are a plea for moisture. They are quite tolerant of heat and humidity.

‘Blue Mouse Ears’ or other miniature Hosta make a beautiful edging for a shady bed, but frequently slugs damage those in the Mary Snoddy garden. Leopard Lilies make an attractive edging also, and are rarely bothered by slugs. Voles have never damaged mine, but that may be a case of luck rather than their distaste for the bulbs. Plants also do well in containers but pot-grown specimens are more prone to cold damage.

Like Hosta, Leopard Lily goes completely dormant in winter. Plants are propagated by dividing clumps of bulbs. This can be done at any time of the year but spring is preferred.

A note on the taxonomy of Drimiopsis maculata: There is disagreement between sources as to whether it belongs in the Hyacinth, Lily or Asparagus family (Hyacinthaceae, Liliaceae, or Aparagaceae). The word maculata means “spotted,” and everyone agrees on that.

Lesser-known Hydrangea, a Garden Star

On the evening before Mothers’ Day, I was forced to pick up a few items at the big blue retail store. Yep. Saturday night at Wally World. Lucky me. As I sat in my car, summoning up my strength for the task ahead, I witnessed blue and pink orbs floating from the store’s doorway. They disappeared into cars in the parking lot. When I donned my eyeglasses (don’t fret - I wore them while I was driving), those blue and pink orbs materialized into giant Hydrangea flower heads atop plants that were on their way to be a Mothers’ Day present the next day, no doubt. Wonder how many of those will survive to bloom again next year?

There is much more to the genus Hydrangea than those big pink or blue mopheads, Hydrangea macrophylla. A lesser known but marvelous species is the native Hydrangea arborescens. The common name for this beauty, Smooth Hydrangea, has been displaced by Mountain Hydrangea in a nod to its origins. In the wild, H. arborescens is a lacecap, but in the 1960s, a mophead type was discovered growing in Illinois. It was subsequently introduced to the market as ‘Annabelle.’

‘Annabelle’ remains immensely popular. It is hardy in zone 4 to 9, withstands more sun and needs less water than the large-leaf mophead varieties, and has huge (up to 12 inches across) white flowers from summer through fall. The only downside is weak stems that do not support the giant flowers, especially when rain increases the weight of the already-heavy flowers. Sadly,  puny stems allow the beautiful flowers to droop into mud.

‘Incrediball’ was introduced in 2009 as an improved ‘Annabelle,’ with mature size of 5 ft tall and 5 ft wide. It shared all the same positive qualities as its predecessor but with much stronger stems and even larger flower heads – up to basketball-size! Soon, non-white cultivars followed as introductions from Dr. Thomas Ranney of NC State University and Spring Meadow Nursery. Here are a few newer choices:

·‘Incrediball™ Blush’ has soft pink flowers; 5 ft tall x 5 ft wide. ·‘Invincibelle™ Ruby’ has deep red flowers; 4 ft tall x 4 ft wide. ·‘Invincibelle™ Spirit’ has pink flowers; 4 ft tall x 4 ft wide. ·‘Invincibelle™ Spirit II’ has pink flowers that age to a gorgeous green; 4 ft tall x 4 ft wide.
·‘Invincibelle Mini Mauvette®’ has mauve/purple flowers; 3 ft tall x 3 ft wide.
·‘Invincibelle Wee White® has white blooms; 2½ ft tall x 2½ ft wide.
·‘Invincibelle Limetta® has greenish flowers; 4 ft tall x 4 ft wide.
·‘Invincibelle Garnetta® has ruby flowers; 2½ ft tall x 2½ ft wide. (Proven Winners website describes the color as ruby-red, not garnet. Weird, huh?)

Site H. arborescens in half sun to mostly sun. Shrubs in more sun will require more irrigation than their sisters planted in shadier locations. All bloom on new wood, so they are resistent to bud death due to late freezes. Prune hard in late winter, cutting stems back to 6-12 inches just before new growth starts. Dried blooms can be removed at any time and used in flower arrangements. The dried flowers can be spray painted to match any décor – I’m partial to deep burgundy or silver, for use around the holidays.

Unlike Hydrangea macrophylla, Hydrangea arborescens do not change colors when soil is altered. White flowers stay white. Pink flowers stay pink. Fertilize once in spring, and provide sufficient irrigation to prevent plant wilt without creating a boggy soil. Plants prefer neutral to acidic soil. If in doubt, check the grow zones for your preferred cultivar. Most are hardy in zones 4-9.

Incrediball™ flower

Invincibelle Spirit Pink Hydrangea flower

Invincibelle Spirit™ flower

The Strange World of Plant Galls

I discovered two strange growths on trees in the Mary Snoddy garden this month. Neither were known to me, so I turned to professional sources: Google for the first, and a retired Extension Agent for the second.

Several Oak (Quercus) trees had round, dimpled growths that resembled pale green golf balls. Some were attached to stems, others to leaves. A Google image search identified them as Oak Galls. Galls are a tree’s reaction to damage caused by intruders such as wasps, mites, aphids, or flies. Identifying names include Wooly Oak Galls, Jumping Oak Galls, Spongy Oak Apple Galls, Wool Sower Galls, Roly-poly Galls, Oak Apple Wasp Galls, Gouty Oak Galls, and others. They vary in appearance based on the irritant that generated the tree’s reaction. They do not injure the health of the host tree.

My amateur assessment is that my tree’s galls were caused by a gall wasp, a tiny brown wasp that is not a stinging danger to people. Before they die, the wasps lay eggs in oak tree buds. Eggs hatch into grubs which then produce enzyme secretions, prompting the tree to isolate the damage by forming the gall. Interesting, but I wanted to know what was inside the galls, so I did what any inquiring mind would do. I sliced a couple open. Inside was a fibrous material with a tiny dense section in the middle. Quite a letdown. I was expecting a grub, a baby wasp, or something other than just a gooey orange dot. THEN I got out my handy hand magnifier. There was a tiny white grub inside one. The other was grub-free. Then I noticed the hole on #2, which was evidently an escape hatch. Fascinating stuff, even if it does make one’s spouse hesitant to eat food off the kitchen counter that was used for the gall dismemberment.

 The other weird finding in my woods were firm fleshy growths attached to several tree stems. They looked almost like a rose carved from stone. I noticed these a few weeks earlier, when they were a bright yellow color. At the time, I thought they were flower buds of some sort. In this case, Google was of no help so I turned to Mr. John Vining, a retired Polk (NC) Country Extension Director who readily identified my mystery growth as a leaf gall and recommended that I remove the gnarly looking things and burn them or bag them for household trash disposal. He further identified the host plant as Horse Sugar, Symplocos tinctoria. Crushed Horse Sugar leaves have a pleasant smell. For the benefit of readers and in the interest of science (and because I have a goat-like tendency to taste everything) I nibbled a leaf. It was slightly sweet, but not a plant I would choose for a snack. But I’m not a horse – just a curious gardener who is thankful for the enormous knowledge base of state Extension agents. Thanks, Mr. Vining!

Mock Orange

Mock Orange, Philadelphus coronarius (pronounced fill-uh-DELL-fus core-uh-NAIR-ee-us), is a deciduous shrub grown for its sweet scent. When not it bloom, it is rather homely. Its stems are stiffly upright or occasionally, arching. Mature size is ten feet tall, eight feet wide. With time, the shrub becomes dense and twiggy. Flowering is on previous year’s limbs, so prune selected stems off near ground level immediately after flowering to force new growth for the following year. The bloom season occurs in May or June, and lasts several weeks.

Mock Orange is hardy in zones 4-8. It prefers full sun to part shade, and moist, well-drained soil, although it is somewhat adaptable. It prefers neutral to alkaline soil. Established plants withstand limited drought. Its white flowers make Mock Orange an ideal selection for a moonlight garden, where its intoxicating scent compensates for its unremarkable appearance. Fragrance is more pronounced in the evening.

Mock Orange is easily propagated from stem cuttings. Plants are somewhat deer resistant.

Philadephus coronarius has pure white, fragrant flowers.

Shrub with white flowers

The shrub has arching stems. Left to its on devices, it can become ungainly.

Note: A sharp-eyed reader noticed a mistake in last week’s blog. Amsonia hubrechtii is native to Arkansas, not Arizona. My secret is revealed — I easily confuse state abbreviations. Thanks for the correction, Gentle Reader!