Saturday, October 6, 2012

Planting/Establishing Dryland/Xeric Plants

An in-depth description of planting technique for dry gardens, rock gardens, and crevices, a statistical confession of everything I've killed this year,  and pictures to help.  (This year is not over yet!)

These techniques extend to pretty much all other plants.

Easy Ones
I like plants who don't wince when they see their moving truck.  Some species are equipped in such a way that makes them very easy to establish.  Topping the list are Cactus.  Agave are also especially easy.  I've planted several dozen this year, and I've lost 0%.  Yucca, too. Most Sedums.  Winterfat (Krasheninnikovia lanata) suprished me with its indefatigable personality, even when I forgot to water new plants for two weeks in summer heat.

Why Bareroot Planting
Perhaps the biggest recent push in this school of thought came in Bob Nold's 2008 High and Dry.  I, like most folks, read over it like a a speedboat on choppy water because it was so radically different than what we expected to read and had been doing.  I did at first, and then it soaked in  Since I've started planting this way, I've seen staggering results.  It is as though the plant grew there from seed.

The big key is eliminating the interface between nursery-soil and ground-soil; this is done by eliminating the presence of nursery-soil.  Failure to do this breaking of the barrier, essentially plugging in a pot-shaped mass into the soil, confines the plant to its "comfort zone," while the gardener hopes to coax the roots into the ground-soil, which is a tedious game played invisibly underground.  This is what most folks do.  The best anecdote I've heard came recently form one Billy, a passionate home gardener.  He changed his mind and removed a five-year old English Ivy plant (which, despite being one of the most viciously vigourous plants, didn't grow much in that time) only to find the whole root mass in the exact shape of a nusery pot.  Five years.

How To Bare-root Plant
Go out and buy the abovementioned book, High and Dry: Gardening with Cold-Hardy Dryland Plants. And read that.  Or I'll summarise here.  But still go get the book.

Start to dig the hole.  About the size of the pot.  You will probably have to dig at it again later because you will finish digging the hole aiming to accomodate the shape of the roots, but you find out what they look like...

Remove the plant from the pot.  Tap/shake/wiggle/abuse the mass of soil and roots so as to knock off the nursery soil.  If the plant clings fast to a bit of the soil, so be it.  I like shaking because it separates loose soil from rooted soil.  Remove most of it.

Don't freak out!  That's the plant's job.

(Titanopsis calcarea is on the "easy" planting list, as a rugged succulent, succumbing only to prolonged wetness)

You can do this either dry or wet.  The wet method (by say, dipping the plant into a tub or bucket) uses water as a lubricant to make prying easier as well as make the process appear phychologically less tormentous; but I have no evidence for this. The dry method avoids matting the roots into a wet-paintbrush-like downward-taper all bunched together, allowing the roots to be more spread (like an inverted bad hair day) when they are buried.  Both work.

(Chrysothamnus nauseosus spp. nauseosus, "Baby Blue" form with Macgyver.

This is where you may have to dig the hole deeper when you find just how long the roots are when teased out. There is a good chance that if it is a dry-growing plant, it has a grounded plant's root system curled up in that pot.  The above is an extreme example for which I'd not dig a four-and-a-half foot hole, but probably one almost twice the depth of its pot once the greater "root ball" is drawn out. But it proves a point.  Just think- planting correclty, you will encourage it to re-grow a root that long to go find water itself.

I personally carry around a bucket/can/pail/jug/wine-bottle of water and an empty bucket to recieve all the potting soil from plants I am planting, which I re-use for potting up future generations of young'uns. (But not seeds/seedlings, for hygiene/cleanliness reasons)  Alternately, you may want put it in your compost or veg garden.

{What if it is root-bound, the roots so tightly woven that it is a solid shape?  Get abusive and get your hands dirty, prying roots out or even chopping slices downwards though the roots to splay out the "root ball" (Bob hates this term, I think) and fan it into the planting hole.}


Water the roots in the hole as you backfill.  I generally fill the hole to the top with water when I have the hole halfway filled, then continue replacing soil when it has soaked in.

 The water marries the plant's roots to your garden's soil so that they are in immediate and intimate contact.   I like to even backfill soil on top of standing water in the hole, thoroughly wetting everything.  This has been called "muddying in."  What a nice, descriptive term.  Now that it is all backfilled, water again for good measure to settle the surrounding soil and plant crown.

Biology tells us that this new plant's ew root hairs which may appear within 48 hours, {Root hairs live only a couple weeks and are continually replaced) will be touching your garden soil, and, to an extent established already!  I will refrain from a diatribe on soil moisture subtleties for now, just take my word for it that this intimate root contact gives the plant the opportunity to take up scant soil moisture and survive dry moments staggeringly better than if planted not bare-rooted.

Note the mass of potted-roots and then the recent roots at the bottom of this rock, (that's 18 inches or 45 cm down) issued from this Eriogonum after only a few weeks in the ground!  (This plant was evicted due to that remodel of the middle section of my crevice garden) Also note how dry the soil is an how unaffected the plant is.

As always, keep the crown (where the stem and roots meet) at ground level. When in doubt, go a little high.  With the exception of say, Zauschneria (now lumped into Epilobium), which can be planted deeper to as to put their tender buds lower in the ground out of cold weather's way and in a position to spread better- just remove the leaves that will be buried.  The great Garden Authoress Gwen Moore (Kelaidis) told me this, and it has proved true.

What if the plant is extra leafy, especially in comparison to a scant root system?  Remove some of the leaves.  Take off say two-thirds f them, leaving the young ones.  This reduces the water-consuption/loss of leaves when the roots are too busy being disturbed to support them.  I experimented to ensure this theory of mine was true:


Two Buffalo Gourd plants (Cucurbita foetidissima) which were the same size, planted in the same hole a week or two before being photographed.  They each had a 3" (8cm) of carrot-like taproot with a small wad of real roots on the end.  The one on the left had all but one full leaf cut off, the one on the right kept them all.  It is stressed and wilting, struggling to supply water to those leaves.  The one on the left.

Another way to reduce water loss is through shade covers.  These needn't be fancy; they only need to be A. breathable and B. block out at least 50% of the sun.  Leave these on a week or two.  This applies especally in summer if you are silly as I to risk planting then and also especially to plants that came from a greenhouse or more "hospitable" climate.  It also holds very true to cactus, who have a keen sense of direction given that one side of the plant gets baked with Southern sun and the other may have never actually been kissed by the sun!

The "Stireman design" shadecloth tents, protecting summer-planted crevice-dwelling subjects.


A classic "moat" for Sporobolus airoides, Alkali sacaton. 

For shrubs and trees with larger, thirstier, root systems as well as any plant that is going to get watering (for establishment) infrequently.  The old-fashioned castle-moat -stlye water "well" is great.  The more water it can hold to soak in and charge the soil, the better.  I make tiny temporary dams in the crevice garden for small plants, too.


(note the small well at the top of this crevice-planted Arenaria hookeri spp. desertorum. 


Water Regime
Mirabilis alipes/multiflora? has no trouble its first season at all.

My jury is still out on this, but I think we're closer after this year.  I'll use the term "establishment-watering" to describe what is done with the purpose of getting a plant established, not what they will see in the future, because some will be intentionally unwatered for the rest of their lives while I fuss over different things.

I have been establishment-watering exactly once a week this year.  Honestly: Mondays.  I am starting to think that doubling up in would have cut the losses down.  Generalisations are dangerous, but I love danger:  I currently opine that more water when young gets the plants further along so as to have better plants who re ready when it is time to cut them off.  Another dangerous generalisation is to expect to establish-water for two seasons running before you can walk away entirely in the dry Western US.  This may mean much less frequently that second year.

A bigger specimen, (Like a five-gallon tree) and especially one with a pot-bound or in-grown root system will need to be watered over a longer span of time, as it will take it longer to establish than a small plant with loose roots, I find.  Bigger plants are thirstier, and  where root system shapes are concerned, old habits die hard for mature plants.

There is definitely no definite formula to water regime; the best method is to use one's judgement based upon trying the soil with one's finger.  And each plant is different- drastically so; and this is what keeps us interested.

Confession Time
I've lost 14% of all plants I stuck in the ground this year. (Out of well over 200 planted) Cold hard numbers rudely proclaim that there was much experimenting.  Murdering plants in the name of knowledge.  Checking my records closely, the majority of the doomed were planted in July, and died within a week or two.  Lesson: avoid July, and probably August, unless you like to water frequently. And even then, feel the shame.

Near Onion Creek Rd, Highway 128, Utah, USA

Friday, September 14, 2012

A Prop to the Maligned.


Perhaps the most solid plant for dry and unwatered gardens in the West is Greasewood, but Sarcobatus vermiculatus is very rare for purchase. (Mail-order: Great Basin Natives in UT)  It grows in low, salty, dry clay areas of the west.  Potentially car-sized, it is ignored most of the time.  But alas, in a garden, with a bit of pruning, it will offer rich succulent greenness entirely without water.  It ought to be used more where we don't want to water and weed.  Stiff, pointed stem-tips would make it an awesome security screen.

All this so I can post a shot of the underappreciated pink inflorescences.



Sarcobatus vermiculatus.  Greasewood.


{This picture was added later}
At the North End of Unaweep Canyon, Whitewater, CO.}

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Public Service #3: Defining Terms

Echinocereus x lloydii at the Chinle Cactus Club's Garden at Grand Junction, CO's CSU extenson gardens.

I find myself getting caked in the pasty makeup that is the jargon and lingo of plant nerdery, and often find myself being painfully not understandable while I rattle on to the innocent bystander.  This nasty disease is terminal and too late for me, I suppose, but here is a quick immunization injection to help the reader survive botanical abbriviation used lightly in this blog, but relied upon heavily in plant literature.

They aren't all that bad; go kiss a botanical term today.

germplasm   =refering to a plant as its genetic makeup, its personal entourage of DNA.  Often, we talk about a particular garden plant being of germplasm from a certain place.

ssp.   =subspecies.  A subspecies is simply a separation between living things that is smaller than species.  For instance, Wolves are all called "Canis lupus."  But the Arctic Wolf is "Canis lupus ssp. arctos," usually written"Canis lupus" arctos, or abbreviated "C. lupus arctos"

spp.    =species, in plural.  Multiple species.  "There are more Astragalus spp. than Penstemon spp."

cult.    = cultivation.  Scientifically refering to an organism in domestication.

aff.     =affinity.  This is what we tag a name with when something looks like a thing we know, but we cannot prove it. Example: Campanula aff. betulifolia.  It is definately a Campanula, and it just looks strongly like the Birch-leaf species.  

sp.   =species.  The "sapien" in Homo sapien, the "biloba" in Ginkgo biloba. 

var.   =variety.  When a plant is different enough to notice but not different enough to be its own species.

ex.     =from   (latin).  For instance, seed packets may have written "ex cult," meaning "from a garden"

x    =hybrid, or cross of two or more species.  Some folks read this as "cross," others say "x." You'll love this exaple; it gets me rolling.  Two fan palms, Washingtonia filifera,  and Washingotnia robusta, can be hybridised.  Their bastard kiddo is called either "Washingtonia filifera x robusta" or, (are you ready for this?)  "Washingtonia x filibusta."  Gosh, it couldn't have worked out better if planned.

(Please mail/comment if there are others that deserve inclusion)

Prickly Thrifts and Colorado

An e-mail with a friend led me to write this concise treatise on my limited experience with these extra-special gems hailing from the middle and dry old-world.



An Acantholimon, or Prickly Thrift, upper left, next to Yucca harrimaniae and Ephedra minima, all grown with finesse to exquisite perfection, by Rock Garden giant, Lee Curtis. (Lakewood, (Denver) Colorado, USA)

Acantholimons are irregularly available (and totally worth buying whenever possible- drainage is essential essential essential) and perhaps all ten-dozen species are pink-flowered.  I got to pitch my tent next to them in Turkey.  Freaking amazing.   Even more amazing, we have a couple (species unknown) growing at the nursery I work for.  They are difficult, I hear, to grow from seed, and only a few experts seem to succeed with cuttings.  They are extra special and are one of those plants who, it seems, grown in a crevice, or nearly on top of a rock, seem a guaranteed success whereas container culture may be too wet for their liking.  

They are considered a very choice plant, and a dead plant (looking all like an extraordinary hybrid between a pin-cushion belonging to a seamtstress who uses each needle but once, and a deflating Basketball) is best removed by fire.Yeah!


A. caryophyllacea embraces a rock at DBG's rock alpine garden.  This exhibit is rich, just rich with them.

Acantholimons have been grown (albeit less lush) in Denver without irrigation.*  They get the same precip in ther native middle-east and asian-steppes, but there, with more millenia of overgrazing to promote thier prickly lifestyle.

*No, really, they have.  Quick note that the Capital city of Colorado (Denver: 15.4in) and the Capital city of Turkey (the country- and it's Ankara, with 14.3inches) recieve close to the same amount of precipitation, and both cities see the most rain in May, not long before abovementioned plants bloom.  Really!

 Successful plants are often found living pretty intimately with large rocks.  These geniously arranged stones are at Ft. Collins Wholesale Nursery Offices, Ft. Collins, Colorado, USA.
Perhaps it is because they are found in such places in nature.  Here, nestled cozily in Gümüşhane province, Türkiye.

There are lowland species who pretty much take the place in the flora that Cactus do in the new world, and there are alpine species, growing on painfully windy treeless mountain slopes.

Acantholimon is also the "screen name" of blogger and general world-stomping Denver Botanic Plantsman Panayoti Kelaidis, his blog: http://prairiebreak.blogspot.com/

So, grow a Prickly Thrift.

Sources: Wrightman Alpines: http://www.wrightmanalpines.com/catalog/plant

Thursday, August 30, 2012

FINALLY

Deserving the exclaimation "finally!" are several things today.



I have finally launched, in earnest, my own business, aiming to promote unwatered gardens as landscapes by being a landscaper who actually offers it.  This includes a business card and a business page discretely linked to the top of this blog.  I am pleased already this week to be responding to client interest.  It really was about dang time I applied myself to solve an industry shortcoming I've complained about for too long.

This is really to support my addiction to hunting plants. Don't tell anyone.

Passiflora x 'Clear Sky'
And, a passionflower, like a sweet metaphor, bloomed with three flowers today to the Western Colorado sun.  Like my business, it had been sitting around for many years, not sure if it wanted to blossom in its situation. There were times I thought it was certainly a bust- that it would never bloom, and other days I knew that it must- it just must.  It was inevitable.

And finally, here is proof of finished fickle rockwork of the Desert Crevice Garden.  It hasn't moved slowly, truly, but I am impatient; it is truly "done" now.  I look forward to the RMC-NARGS member's autumn plant sale in Denver next weekend to find some treasures for it.  This event is perhaps where some of the most choice and special plants swap hands in Colorado.  Certainly my favourite and most satisfying plant acquisitions have come from there.  

Desert Crevice Garden; rocks set awaiting plants.

Cyclamen hederifolium
Lastly, a herald of autumn quietly squeeks from the shade garden's leaf-litter.  Now-leafless C. herifolium is decidedly the easiest Cyclamen to grow in the West, being remarkably dry-growing.  Happy Fall.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Zhirair Basmajyan

I found this endearing picture in my files and wanted to post it today in celebration and congratulations to my friend Zhiro for having competed (& won) to earn a business trip to Germany and the CR (Czech Republic).
There is a prior post about him and his work here:
Enchanted by Armenia

Zhirair Basmajyan photographing Tulip 'Kiev,' named after the capital of Ukraine.




Sunday, August 12, 2012

This is Freaking Important

The question has arisen, to be discussed:


What is the point of all of this: 
"Rock Gardens," 
plant collecting, 
and whatnot?

What good does it really do?

(assuming that all things to which time and effort are devoted must "do" some "good." )

Well...
Wear a bib because this is going to get messy.

Conservation.
The "Day of Seven Billion" was announced on Halloween (honestly- I'm scared) of last year (2011) by the United Nations. (1)  As living things on this consistently-sized sphere, we cannot help but take up more resources in order to live as we do. (the last three words being extra hot potatoes in political realms) -Resources such as land, which we must use in different ways to provide for our many needs (which are inextricably tied up with "desires;" some butter for those philosophical hot potatoes,)  from roads for transport, farmland for food, grazing land for food, houses for living spaces, to reservoirs for water storage.  Essential things.  Also- slopes for skiiing. Land.  That is what has been taken up in Europe and set to extinciton five of seven species of neo-tulips, or Leiostomones botanical group.  One of which, at least, lost its last brushtroke on earth to being a ski-slope.  Once plentiful, now mostly extinct.

The value of a species?
Emotional value: The world could still spin without tigers, but who would dare say aloud that we ought not protect them?  And, the world may still spin without them, but what would it be like? Not as good, I say.  Not as good. Take out your intellectual steak-knife, and slowly chew on this, from the world's authority on ants:  "For every problem in a given discipline of science, there exists a species, or entity, or phenomenon ideal for its solution.  And, conversely, for every species of other entity, or phenomenon, there exists important problems for the solution of which those particular objects of research are ideally suited. "(3)

Some interpret his thought like this: save plants because we may cure cancer, say, with a compound from a plant, like this Orchid, Coelogyne odoratissima.  (I saw it hanging out on a cliff near Doddabetta, the highest point in Tamil Nadu, India:)

A Coelogyne odoratissima plant in bloom, in cultivation.

But that is only bringing a species of plant from its native place and increasing its odds of survival by speading it around.    Conservation goes beyond exotic alpines from Tien-shan being grown in Denver: it can be  natives of any place taken from the hillsides and brought into local gardens. It, too, does a world of good.  Native insects, for example, find less of their necessary partners in survival when land becomes domestic.  Unless that domestic land offers them those plants...



The incredibly Biodiverse garden (in May) of John Stireman of Sandy, Utah, phot credit to him. Last I saw it in July, it was abuzz with all sorts of tiny ground-nesting wasps who play critical roles in the ecosystem.  I was so distracted by how many different wasps milling about that I at times missed the plants.  I am certain they are not as at-home in a  completely-turfed-in yard.

Education.
This point will be anecdotal.  I imagine that I will only contribute to the reader's own list of moments in which our colleagues in civilisation betray a total lack of understanding of nature, not to mention natural systems.
-I've heard more than once about kids who literally do not know where cheese comes from.
-The average youth will be able to help me with the difference between an "Android" phone and an "iphone," but would completely fail to know the difference between a tomato, potato, or even a carrot plant.  I have been hollowly shocked to observe this in my vegetable garden with visitors- adults and kids alike.
-I heard a story about a larch being cut down because it was mistaken for a "pine" which died.  (a larch is a deciduous conifer which is meant to loose its needles)
-My dear roommate says "bee" when he describes the animals that stung him when he accidentally disturbed a metal-tubed post with a nest in it.  These are paper wasps/aerial hornets:  truly aggressive beasties, whereas bees are peacable flower-patrons we all rely upon for our food production.
-A friend hosting a garden tour this year was asked by a visitor what the red things hung in a tree were.  Have we forgotten that apples grow on trees?
-One last little one, just for me:  I finally realised a month ago that, until now, in Western Colorado, when I use the term "Rock garden" with an average person, they thought I was talking about those yards completely covered in gravel, maybe with different colours of gravel, maybe with some big stones here and there, and not necessarily any plants in it.  I was
truly humbled by my unclear terms.


Photo: The fantastic rock garden of Tony Stireman, circa Salt Lake City, Utah.  A real Rock Garden.


Let us think about how dangerous it is to make decisions about ecology as a society when we have so far removed ourselves:  i.e. How can we buy and spray pests (bees/wasps) when we don't even know what they are?  How can we vote on an issue or decide what kind of things to buy which feed into or derive from nature?  This includes our own food.

Let us not criticise.  Let us fix it, one neighbour at a time.

We must know about nature for the sake of nature.  We must undertand it, too, for our own sake, which is the angle from which comes Richard Louv, Author of Last Child in the Woods, in which the point is made that exposure to nature is critical in a child's (read: person's) health- mental and physical.


The home garden is often an urban person's front-line experience with wild nature, if not a person's first experience with nature as a child.


People.
Like all great causes and hobbies, both words which will describe rock gardening and plant collecting irrespecitvely: the actual action of gardening is soulfood in a world that can feel, at times, so tedious and perilous, while fixing that very problem.  I have sold perennial flowers to so many lawers, airline pilots, shrinks, accountants, professors, and realtors who expressly use their garden as a sanctuary- mental, physical, and emotional.

People, too, are brought together by seed exchanges, plant sales, construction too heavy for one person, and moments like a planthunter arriving into a village looking for a certain wildflower, only to enlist a local, which results in the the two people exchanging different ideas and experiences while actually having one together.  Plants bring people together.

This is Peace.


Mimulus guttatus above Blue Lake, West of Crested Butte, CO, two weeks ago.

Keep gardening. 
Collect plants.  
Share with others.

It's important.

Mr. Deiken Jones, 9, knows very well what a Hedgehog cactus is!  He informs me that his favourite local cactus is the fishhook cactus.  Amen!
Monument Canyon, Colorado National Park, Grand Junction, CO




(1) World Population, Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_population#Milestones_by_the_billions

(2) Tulipes Sauvages (Wild Tulips)
http://www.tulipessauvages.org/page/tulipes_de_france.htm

(3) Advice to Young Scientists, Dr. E.O. Wilson (Harvard Prof. Emeritus) in a lecture for TED Talks.
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/e_o_wilson_advice_to_young_scientists.html