Reading Season for Gardeners

Come the first of January, or even before, the flood of seed catalogs will begin arriving in gardeners' mailboxes. If you are like me, this provides a joyful ritual of sitting in a favorite chair, highlighter in hand, dreaming of the ultimate garden that will surely grow this summer.

But seed catalogs are not the only solace for the aching soul of the sunlight-deprived gardener in the depths of winter. In recent years we have been blessed with a number of terrific books that make for interesting and enjoyable reading and might fill our bookshelves with more than just gardening-reference.

Most recently I completed (courtesy of the wonderful Lincoln County library system) the current and compelling Fruitless Fall by Rowan Jacobsen. This well-paced volume will school the gardener in exacting terms on the life cycle and habits of our revered European honeybee, as well as other less known pollinators. It reads like a who-dunnit, positing various culprits as to the source of the mysterious Colony Collapse Disorder that ravaged American honeybee populations in recent years. A fascinating look inside the life of our critical insect link to food, and how it relates to the general state of our food system, along with ideas for how to heal it.


Last winter my non-reference gardening read was Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. As someone who has grown produce for sale, and continues to try and source my food locally when I myself cannot grow it, I found this book inspiring and enlightening, not to mention well written. Ms. Kingsolver and her adult daughter chronicle a year of eating locally for their family, both from their own produce and the little egg-factory set up by her younger daughter. I will admit a fondness for Kingsolver's fictional writing, but strangely it was this book that drew me into her vast library. Upon finishing this non-fiction book, I quickly went on to read long-neglected fiction titles, including "The Poisonwood Bible," probably her masterpiece.

Gardeners who enjoy growing edibles will especially enjoy The Fruit Hunters by Adam Leith Gollner. I heard a couple interviews with Mr. Gollner on the radio promoting this book and headed to the library as usual. I'm afraid these publishers don't make much off my buying habits. Anyway his book is something of a travelogue, fruit inventory and study of strange characters involved in the fruit trade, both growers and sellers. Although I have spent many years growing and studying fruiting plants, there were dozens he described I had never heard of, mostly due to climate and the restrictive fruit trade. How might organized crime be involved with the fruit on our tables, you ask? A question answered in this book, along with many other arcane fruit-related topics.

Enjoy the restful book-friendly months of winter! I would love to hear other gardeners' favorite non-reference books, please share in the comments below.

Eating the View

Who says a landscape has to be merely beautiful? By the same token, why must edible plants be banished to the back garden, out of view? I'm here to tell coastal homeowners: yes, you can have your beautiful landscape and (like cake) eat it too.

A trend has gripped the nursery industry these past couple years, with the onset of the scary economic situation that began in late 2007. "Edible" plants are all the rage. Funny thing is, for many vegetable and fruit growers like me, edibles have always been our reason for gardening in the first place. We may have all started with a tomato plant or two, and before you know it, the winter seed catalogs have us prancing down the garden path toward exotic herbs and Asian greens, not to mention strange fruits.

By now, many of you have become familiar with attractive landscape-quality edibles like kale, Swiss chard (especially the 'Bright Lights' variety) and the striking artichoke. These dinner staples can be worked right into a varied perennial or shrub border, fitting in as comfortably in the front yard as the veggie patch.

What you may not realize, or perhaps haven't considered, is that many fruiting plants are front-yard stunners as well. Why bother with barberry and cotoneaster in your foundation plantings, when you could instead plant an elderberry, evergreen huckleberry, cranberry, currant or gooseberry? Many of these plants offer more than just the fruit but also floral and changing-color leaf displays to enjoy. Those among us with an adventurous spirit, willing to pay attention to cultural plant needs, might even try the cutting-edge seaberries or honeyberry.

Working old familiar standards into a landscape can be easier than you think. In the past couple years, I have transformed a formerly sad juniper-patch into strawberries, and the south side of my garage is the perfect habitat for a 'Frost' peach tree, trained into a fan. This pink-flowered stunner provided 30 fruits in its first year. A stone retaining wall is now lined with a row of 'Saanich' raspberries instead of handrail, and the back fences of my property support a 3-way pear, 3-way apple and 3 new varieties of grape selected for the coast. The apple and pear are espaliered, to make the most of limited space.

Take a good long look at what is filling your front yard and ask some questions like, does it get full sun? Is there shelter from the strongest winds? What is that plant (in place now) doing for me-- is it flowering, providing groundcover, or just taking up space? Do I appreciate the texture, color, fall display? After you assess these questions, you can begin to think through what edibles might take their place, and provide you with more than just scenery. What you might get instead, is good eats!

My fruiting plant sources in the Northwest: Raintree Nursery (WA) and One Green World (OR). Be sure to check what can be shipped into your state-- many are prohibited to cross state lines.

Pity the Poor Alder

Alnus rubra, the Red Alder, is a misunderstood species in this part of the world. This native hardwood, common to wetter areas like riverbanks in western Oregon, is treated like a scourge by homeowners and loggers alike. Pity. This wonderful hardy tree has so much to offer, in my opinion.

Consider the many seasons that an alder tree shows you its beauty.

In the grim winters of western Oregon, these native trees display mottled grey and white bark to rival any birch, and graceful branches which are easily pruned into a high canopy. The open branching admits needed light underneath in dark months.

Late winter into early spring, the alders are the first to begin warming our tree canopy with color, as their stalked red buds swell and a hazy rose is spread among their tree tops. For some, the alders can bring on spring allergies, but their bloom is brief.

Summer brings a canopy of dappled bright-green shade, beautifully backlit by the high northern sun. The shade provided under this nitrogen-fixing, drought-tolerant plant creates some of the best-adapted lawns we have seen, without additional water.

The alders in fall turn a subtle golden and the leaves drop quickly, usually quite late. These leaves are light and small enough to provide valuable mulch or compost media, and don't pack into the wet impenetrable mess seen under many maples.

The alder offers one more benefit, after its life has come to an end. Hot-burning firewood, with small diameter branches perfect for a campfire and larger trunks that are easy to split. You might notice firewood sellers who are exclusive to alder.

This is just to say, native trees and plants have many attributes often overlooked. Before you condemn them in favor of a Japanese or English import, give them a chance.

Resilience

Recently I came across this idea of resilience. That nature has the capacity to rebound from tremendous insults, given the chance to recover. Of course, if there are too many insults piled on for too long, as is the case with extinction, then resilience is impossible.

The idea has been in my mind as I look around the landscapes in our town following a record cold spell. We on the coast are particularly vulnerable when the temperature dips below freezing, and this time we were in the teens. Lows like this just don't happen often.

Where winter brings prolonged freezing, as in the Willamette Valley, folks take the time to "winterize" more diligently... water sytems, automobiles, and protecting half-hardy plants. On the coast it usually freezes in winter at least a couple times, but there is a difference between 32 and 17 degrees, particularly when it lasts a week.

Looking around your yard after this, you may be surprised to find survivors that looked beyond hope during the cold spell. In their attempt to survive, you will see plants take on a "wilted" look during the cold. This affectation limits one of the primary killers in freezing weather, desiccation. You may have noticed your rhodies taking on this sad pose in the cold, only to perk up once our warmer rains returned.

Desiccation occurs when the plant loses more moisture from the leaves (or needles) than it is able to take up from the soil. When the soil is frozen, roots may not have any water available. Meantime the dry cold air is wicking moisture from the leaves, which are warmed in the daytime sun. The damage is accelerated in windy conditions.

One of the lessons of the freeze then is to water in advance of the low temperatures. If a particularly cold night is predicted, be sure to water well the exposed plants that have leaves/needles (evergreens) and those in containers. This will give the plants a chance to fully hydrate and hopefully ride out the desiccating temps.

You may be surprised what plants will survive after such a spell. Give them the benefit of the doubt, wait until well into spring before ruthlessly pulling out prized shrubs that look sad. Gently scrape a small piece of bark to see if the tissue is green (or white) underneath, this indicates life. You can check several branches this way to determine what might need removal. Dead tissue looks dead.

Freezing weather can also provide us benefits for next season. Disease and pest levels are typically reduced when we have a good freeze. Small insects that are poorly adapted for winter and many fungal organisms will be killed, giving us a better chance for control next season. Look on the loss of a plant as an opportunity: most of us have little room for new selections, and the loss presents an opening.

It's only mid-December and there's a lot of winter left. Take the opportunity to assess your garden's vulnerability and prepare for the coming months. Then you can sit back and peacefully browse the new seed catalogs when the next cold spell arrives.