Existential Gardener

Bamboo: A Cautionary Tale

     Over the weekend, I mentioned to my husband that I thought bamboo would be a good idea to plant along the fence line to create an even better privacy screen.  He looked at me in horror and told me it was time for a field trip.
      With that in mind, we went to visit his aunt and uncle who purchased a house that had bamboo planted in the yard in the mid-seventies by the previous owner.  The result is that they now live next to and maintain a bamboo forest.   It is beautiful and intriguing to say the least;  walking into the bamboo is like entering a different world.   But a close inspection of the ground demonstrates that this aggressive plant is forever trying to push up through the driveway, overtake the yard, and topple any structure that is not securely placed in the ground.
    In order to keep the bamboo from overtaking the yard, they must be vigilant.  His uncle regularly hacks down portions of the bamboo and watches for tell-tale rhizomes.  At this point, unless they are willing to do some major excavation, the bamboo is here to stay.
    But wait, what about the so-called good bamboo?  Well, it does exist, but for a price.  On top of that, good bamboo, or Fargesia (a term which encompasses a whole host of varieties), is picky about where it will grow.  Fargesia in its many forms is commonly referred to as clumping bamboo.  It will only grow in shady protected areas of one's yard.  However, if you want to grow bamboo with wild abandon and not worry about losing the yard, this type is an excellent choice.
     However, running bamboo loves the sun and is quite hardy.  But it is the leptomorph rhizome that presents the problem.  The rhizome grows in all directions and can push over fences and sheds.  On the other hand, a little preparation can force running bamboo to be well-behaved.  Sinking concrete planters into the ground will help keep the bamboo under control.  One can also purchase a special synthetic barrier reputed to help halt the course of running bamboo.  Keep in mind though, that those lovely rhizomes can grow through, over, and under barriers.  In fact, an ancient torture method was to let a shoot grow through a person.  And, even if you do succeed in corralling the bamboo, it will eventually become root bound.
    I for one have decided to forgo my dreams of a bamboo screen.  I have no luck when I gamble, and I am convinced that the only good bamboo for me is in someone else's yard on the other side of town.  As sure as Bob's your uncle, if I put that bamboo in the ground, I will be the next major supplier of bamboo for the National Zoo.

Locust Trees and Gardening: How these trees can help you

      I have always liked the humble Black (or Yellow) Locust tree.  Other than in deep deserts (and sometimes in an oasis), I have always seen Locust trees wherever in the world I've been, reminding me of home.  The Locust tree has a distinct shape and foliage that, although not always the most beautiful, is certainly instantly recognizable.

     The Locust tree is native to North America, but has been cultivated on nearly every continent.  I have seen it used as a tree for lining streets in Europe, grown for wood across Europe and Asia.  It is even grown as animal fodder in Mongolia.
      Even though it is a tree, the Locust is also a legume.  Like most legumes, the leaves are high in protein, and the roots fix nitrogen.  It will grow on marginal land and will improve the ground it is growing upon.  The foliage can be fed to animals; however, it may contain substances that will slow their growth.  This situation would be preferable to starving your livestock, but certainly it is not a good choice for a permanent diet.
      The Locust can also be an indicator for when to plant your garden.  My parents have these trees near both gardens, in widely separated parts of their field.  They don't begin planting the lower garden until the Locust tree next to it begins to bloom.  However, the other portion of the field has a different micro-climate, and the planting there waits until its very own Locust tree blooms too.  The few times that they have planted earlier than the trees indicated, the crops have struggled to get off to a healthy start.
       Do you have Locust trees on your property?  What uses, if any, have you found for your own?

Cuttings and Transplants are Rewarding with Patience

    My grandfather's yard was filled with a collection of flowers and bushes he had acquired from friends and relatives throughout his life.  Although he supplemented with nursery plants at times, he preferred to take cuttings, separated bulbs, and saved seeds.  He rarely consulted a garden book.  He seemed to instinctively know how to use location and structures to create ideal conditions and proper shelter for his transplants.  In the spring, we would walk the yard (which was more a small, urban park), and he would tell me where all of the flowers, shrubs, and trees came from.  Naturally, I wanted my own yard to reflect that same idea, that connectedness through cultivation over the decades.
     Unfortunately, my experience with cuttings has been more similar to an episode of ER.  The patient arrives somewhat in shock, and I thrust him into the ground as quickly as possible in the nearest open location in my yard.  The usual result it that for a few days, my neighbors think that I have simply stuck a stick in the ground to mark something.  Then, in a miraculous turn of events, it will start to green up right before the first frost.  Last year, my mega store grapes and blueberries were a total flop, and no amount of coddling would save them.  Yet, the Rose of Sharon that I put in a pot and forgot over the previous winter, rallied all summer and now is a full fledged mini-tree.
     A few weeks ago I joyfully received my Nanking Bush Cherry cuttings in the mail.  Wrapped in wet newspaper, I placed them in our basement to await the proper time to plant them.  On Sunday, my husband and I sat down and carefully read the instructions that came with them.  We followed them to the letter, and right now the small sticks are fighting the blustery day in our backyard.  Although we have had great success with my garden, cuttings have always seemed like magic.  But success with cuttings has less to do with the right spell and more to do with time, patience, location, and attention.
     My uncle told me that I need to find the hole before I get the cutting.  Sounds like common sense once someone finally said it out loud.  I've usually dug my cutting up and am walking around the yard trying to find space for it first.  The faster one gets the transplant into the ground, the less stress on the transplant.  And if you can find a location that is similar to the one the transplant is used to, even better.
     Another thing to consider when transplanting is the time of year.  Most successful transplanting takes place in the spring or fall, before flowering shrubs begin to put out flowers, or when they have become dormant.  This timing allows the cutting to concentrate on putting out important root systems, rather than splitting its time between making flowers and making roots.  Additionally, getting cuttings to root in the summer puts additional stress on the tree or shrub because of limited water.   Spring transplanting allows the cutting to get acquainted with its new surroundings in a moderate temperature.
       Finally, even if one has followed the above, special attention must be paid to the cutting the entire first summer.  I believe that is why so many of my cuttings have been brought back from near death experiences.  The cutting will need extra water and perhaps extra support from a small post.  Even if it looks like it's dead, don't dig it up and throw it away.  Let it stay for awhile, it may yet come back.
     If you have never tried cuttings, I encourage you to look in to it.  It's an excellent way to keep memories from past homes, trips, and relatives to enjoy every year.  The best thing about cuttings is that if you fail, you can always get another and try again.  They are, after all, free, and rarely hurt the donating plant.  Another method (and the one we usually use) is transplanting volunteers, those little trees that appear next to lilacs, forsythia, etc.  It helps keep the bush at a manageable size and helps us create a beautiful, scented hedge in the summer.  So explore your surroundings and talk to your neighbors and try some cuttings and transplants of your own.