Heaven and Hellebores

Fresh picked beauties

A year ago, I had never heard of Hellebores. And now, all varieties of colors, sizes and shapes are under my care and greet me when I walk around the garden. I am so grateful to the previous owner for creating this lovely winter oasis. It must have been very hard for her to leave it behind.

When I trimmed away the old leaves
and saw these purple veined flowers,
I gasped at their beauty.

Every day it seems there is a fresh debut of another gorgeous variation of plums, purples, pinks and whites in the amazing assortment of Hellebores that surround our property.

Dark plum center with
dainty plum veins

Thanks to several warm spring-like days, I'm gradually making progress at trimming the old leaves. So far, I've managed to refresh about a half of the sixty or so plants.The plants that have had their old leaves trimmed off look young and fresh while the flowers on the untrimmed plants are hidden under a shaggy green mane.

After the leaves are cleared away, I work compost into the soil around the plants. According to the Mercer County Horticulturist (and our Master Gardener Advisor), the unhealthy looking leaves shown in the previous blog may have been caused by a lack of organic matter. Considering how lovely the soil is to work with, and all the leaf mulch everywhere, I find that hard to believe. But there's probably no such thing as too much organic matter. And it just so happens that one of my compost piles has reached the chocolate cake crumbs stage and I can put it to good use.

Exquisite plum specks on a cream
to mauve gradated background

Rash Behavior

One of Hellebores' most beautiful qualities is that deer don't eat them. That's probably because they're poisonous. (Some ancient societies used Hellebores as a substitute for Digitalis). The poison gives me a rash where the leaves touch my skin. Now I wear rose gloves that go up to my elbows. And, I've added a new post-exposure regime that involves washing my hands and face with dish detergent to remove toxic oils from the plant and then I take an antihistamine to prevent allergic reactions.

Plum with lavender veins

It's a small price to pay in order to enjoy such exquisite beauty.

Hellebores Chores Galore

Hamamelis Intermedia (Witch Hazel)

One of the side effects of all these Master Gardener Classes I've been attending is that I've learned about the myriad problems that lurk in New Jersey gardens. The weeds that have obsessed me since I moved here are benign in comparison. Now I have to watch for hordes of pathogens that thrive in New Jersey growing conditions as we as the plants.

Unhealthy Helebores

In recent days, there has been a drastic shift in how I experience the garden. My delight in discovering new blossoms of Hamamelis (Witch Hazel) was diminished by the spots I saw on leaves of Hellebores (Lenten Roses).  Were those black spots there before? I ran to the book on Hellebores that the previous owner left me. I think it might be a fungus called Black Spot (of all things). It said to cut back all the diseased leaves and NOT put them into my compost pile.

Dipping garden shears in bleach
between cuttings prevents
the spread of pathogens

I put on heavy wool socks, a warm winter hat, donned long underwear under my sweats, squeezed glove liners inside my gardening gloves, grabbed some shears and poured some bleach into a container. As the leaves were removed, my despair mingled with delight when I discovered flower buds emerging. Different plants were unveiling different shades of purple, maroon, pink and white.

Well Groomed Hellebores

That was good news and bad news. Because I also learned from the Hellebores book that you're supposed to trim away old leaves when the buds start to emerge. That's not so easy when it's 40° out. It's even harder when you have roughly 60 plants to trim! After two days, I only have about 50 more to go.

Things were so much simpler in Boulder. My little garden was safe from a host of insects, viruses, bacteria and molds because they and their plant hosts didn't like the climate. But my little garden didn't have Witch Hazel and Hellebores blooming in February.

New Hellebores are budding

White Christmas

Hellebores (Lenten rose)

Galanthus (Snowdrop)

There's snow in Texas. But not in these parts. A few white blossoms have appeared in the last couple days, so we have some white stuff on the ground anyway. And we don't have to worry about shovelling the driveway. Happy Holidays!

If nature won't provide snow covered trees, make your own.

Beautiful

Beans is watching from the steps
while I photograph my perch

All the leaves are down.
And the sky is blue…

It is 70° today. I am sitting on the patio and looking out toward the forest and pond. The geese who haven't headed South yet are cackling away while a woodpecker taps on a neighbor's tree and fluffy grey squirrels bounce across the lawn.

Before sitting down to write, I couldn't resist pulling up some Ground ivy and Hairy bittercress. I sampled a leaf from the latter. It tastes a bit like watercress but prickles the tongue unpleasantly. (Which probably accounts for the "hairy" part of its name).

Better Belated than Never

Earlier this month, I collected photos of the vibrant fall colors in my back yard and the surrounding neighborhood. I couldn't think of a narrative to attach to the photos, so they didn't get posted when they were current. But they're too beautiful to keep to myself any longer. (You can click on any photo to enlarge it and appreciate the colors).

Looking up our street just before
turning into our driveway

Berries on a leafless tree by the park

Our front yard with a
Kousa dogwood on the right and
 the red maples on the left

A shock of bright red at the
border of our forest

Bright red at the front
of our property

Bright red and orange
on someone else's property 

Red, orange and yellow
across the street

Surprising berries with each one
shining red, orange and yellow as they
dangle from a tree in copious clusters
 near the raspberry bushes

My beautiful red dog sitting
beside me as I write in my red chair

 

Unseasonal Greetings

The Swiss Chard is still growing

The weather has been in the 60's for the last several days. That means there are no excuses for not going out and working in the garden -- harvesting some Swiss chard, surveying the newly sprouted weeds and feeling guilty about the garden tasks that never got finished or even begun (the latter is the subject for another, very long blog post).

I was incredulous that so many new weeds would have sprouted up at the end of November. Don't things die back for the winter in these parts?

Daffodils are already
starting to come up

While I was futilely trying to lessen the spread of the budding new weeds, I found something else I didn't expect until spring: daffodil tips pushing up from the earth.

Cherry blossoms at Thanksgiving.
A sign of global warming?

That was just too much. So I took my dog for a walk to clear my head. And what did I see? Cherry blossoms on the tree in someone's front yard.

Dirty Hairy

The weed that is carpeting every bald spot in the lawn and every uncovered area in the garden is called Hairy Bittercress (Cardamine hirsuta). It's a member of the Brassicaseae family (like cabbages and mustard) and is an edible bitter green. Guess what we're having in our salads from now on? We have plenty. It sprouts up in the autumn and stays green throughout the winter. And it can't be composted because it will continue to grow seeds after it's pulled up. The most important way to control it is to not let it flower and seed.

Hairy bittercress.
 But a better name is "Cluster bomb"

It's classified as an invasive weed because of its diabolical reproductive system. The plant is an angiosperm. Which means its flowers produce fruits with seeds that include a nutrient that aids in their germination (like wheat, barley, corn and coconuts). Its other common names are "jumping jesus" and "popping cress" because the fruits burst open at the slightest disturbance and scatter thousands of seeds. I called them "cluster bombs" last Spring for the way they blasted into my shins and face when I was trying to pull them up. The zillions of scattered seeds can then germinate for years

I didn't know how lucky I was in Colorado that Hairy bittercress doesn't grow there. At least it's almost fun to pinch the center of the carycomb of leaves and pull them out of our luscious loamy New Jersey soil. I'm sorry to say, there really is too much of a good thing.

First Flakes

Last week's snowstorm in Colorado made the national news. And not to be outdone, so did the snow that fell here on Sunday. While other parts of the East suffered from fallen trees and power outages, we had two or three inches of the white stuff, some beautiful scenery and one broken tree limb. The only real tragedy is that the neighborhood kids didn't go trick or treating on Monday so I'm tormented by the open bag of candy that was meant for them.

Enjoy these quick snapshots from Sunday morning while I snack on some chocolate: 

Beans deciding not to go outside

The Red Maples (Acer rubrum)
in our front yard

The Pyracantha outside
our kitchen window

The branches of the Yew and
Magnolia outside my office
bent several feet to the ground
from the weight of the snow

And I'm still picking raspberries!

Transitions

Migration

Grover's Mill Pond is a popular
rest stop for migrating geese

For the last two weeks, thousands of geese have visited the pond behind our property. This must be a popular refueling and resting stop on their way south for the winter. They are a noisy throng of travellers. Each new convoy loudly announces its arrival and is met with an even louder welcoming chorus from the flocks who had arrived earlier. Batches take off on joy flights around the area — everyone squawking as loudly as possible. Their pitch and exuberance remind me of a family reunion where everyone wants to catch up on what's happened since the last gathering.

The other day, I passed the pond on route to do errands and was surprised to see that there were no geese. The weather was still very comfortable. Had they all left? Later, I heard the now familiar cacophony of squawking as the sky above the Whole Foods parking lot turned dark from a swarm geese heading in the direction of the pond. When I got home, they had all returned and were as boisterous as ever.

 Exfoliation

Better than a rake for sweeping up piles
of leaves off our rock driveway

Potentially lethal bullets when
they fall from a 70 foot tall tree

There is a very tall Oak tree outside the covered porch that has been dropping mountains of leaves and acorns for weeks now. The acorns fall from such a height, they gain enough velocity to bounce a couple inches before they land.  Sometimes, so many acorns are falling it sounds like popcorn popping.

We would be shin deep in Oak leaves if my client, Agri-Fab hadn't sent me a Lawn Sweeper that I use to collect the leaves and then pile onto my compost. I was worried that it would also scoop up the rocks that cover the driveway like a rake would. But it doesn't. It also scoops up pine needles, all the other leaves and those pesky acorns.

Realization

Sayonara, Juniper

The first growing season is over and I've decided to stop being the timid caretaker of the previous owner's garden and to make it my own.

The ugly old Juniper's skeletal remains

My first order of business: remove the ancient, ginormous, scraggly juniper bushes and let my husband try out his new chain saw. Now we have an uninterrupted view of the forest from our dining table.

I could start a Hibiscus Plantation

My other momentous task has been removing the jungles of brambles that multiplied exponentially over the summer. No sooner had I cleared a large section of Wineberries, I noticed that the cleared area quickly filled with small woody sprouts. Were they something to keep? I left them alone for a while.

Then a few days ago, I saw a note on the list of plants that the previous owner gave me. Next to Hibiscus (Rose of Sharon), it said "prolific self seeder." Prolific is the perfect word. Surrounding the Hibiscus trees whose lovely pink and lavender flowers brightened the late summer are thousands of babies starting to take over the garden. Every hour that I've spend in the garden since then has been dedicated to pulling them up. There are thousands yet to be removed. I may have to resort to more drastic, less organic measures.

It looks like I'll be spending a lot of time and energy un-planting before I can think about planting anything.