Hansen's Northwest Native Plant Database

Conversations With

A Native Plant Woman

(and Friends)

h   2012 h

From Jennifer, April 5, 2012

The official start date of spring has passed. For some reason nature does not agree. Or maybe she just has a different viewpoint of what spring is supposed to be like. Anyway, at right is my side yard when I woke up on Thursday, March 22. It snowed lightly all day and into the night. The next morning it was at least an inch deeper. I was delighted of course. When one has no reason to venture out into snowy weather, it is a lovely thing. The quiet of early morning with a fresh snow is a pure peace. So, thanks to nature for a memorable surprise.

The rhodies are waking up. New branches started last spring are sporting buds that are filling with flowers to be. They are still flinching from the cold but nothing serious. The birches have little catkins along their branches. The sword ferns are in perfect health. And every day Maggie and I walk all through the garden to see what has happened while we slept. Today's surprise was Bleeding Heart (Dicentra formosa). A very respectable population of them has come up just inside the Giant Arborvitae (Thuja plicata) hedge at the southern edge of my garden. The photo below right was taken this morning.

I don't know what the cement blocks are for. The woman who planted this amazing garden has these all around the place in what are precise configurations but I have no idea what they are for. It is difficult to let them alone but I've learned from past experience that it takes a year to see all that a garden has to offer. Any digging or moving things about is liable to smash some perennial or bulb or who knows what that may be still asleep. I will put a Chinese lantern on this cement square for the time being.

h   2010 h

It's almost here!!!! Even though every year has a December with a magical day, the winter holidays will at some point infect us with their 'spirit.' And it's more than the pure fun of choosing just the right gift for each of our 'someone's.' For me, catching the holiday spirit may be triggered by the twinkly lights and rich aromas and sparkling decorations; or the smiles that warm from the inside;

Maybe it's the people--standing in line or thumbing through a pile of interesting items--humming or quietly singing or tapping a toe in time with White Christmas or Do you hear what I hear? coming from an invisible orchestra. Or it could be catching a whiff of cinnamon/apple/cranberry/cedar, or frankincense, or myrrh.

Regardless which of these things transport us from the everyday world to joyful holiday cheer, all are elements to be enjoyed

Winter holidays are upon us. There are lots of scurryings to and fro. From the oven come mouth-watering scents of cinnamon, chocolate, peppermint. And bells and buckets greet us at grocers, clothiers and single destination emporiums.

This morning we (my dog and I) stood listening to what sounded like an entire squadron of little birds singing their joy at some discovered feast in a neighbor's tree. I couldn't make out what menu item caused such jubilance. It looked like an ordinary evergreen tree to my human eye. What made this tree today's gourmet delight when just yesterday it held no such attraction?

Perhaps Bob and Julie had hung bird treats among the branches of the Incense Cedar--maybe suet cakes or seed bells or peanut butter pinecones. Whatever the reason, the little birds certainly brightened our early morning trek to our backyard haven.

We were not alone in observing this feathered frolic: one of the neighborhood squirrels was perched on a branch of our Doug Firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii var. menziesii). He quietly watched and listened as the little guys chirped and sang and flitted about, seemingly without any thought of crashing the party. I bet he went for a closer look after the bash was over.

What an enchanting day we had for the thankfulness holiday! 'Twas beautiful here in the Valley--chilly but not too cold--unless you were out in it. The news showed some of the people who devoted this day to lending a helping hand (for some it is an honored tradition observed each year). It is very uplifting to hear their stories and meet some of the recipients of these gifts of love. Let us keep these memories and acts of kindness today and all our tomorrows.

Nature XXVII, Autumn

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.

~ Emily Dickinson

Make your house smell good! Use fragrant greenery of northwest native plants for holiday hall decking. Boughs of fresh-cut trees and cuttings of shrubs that are naturally aromatically delightful will serve you well in both beauty and air freshening. May we suggest:

	Common Name	Scientific Name
Trees	Fir trees--White, Grand and Noble Fir	Abies concolor, a. grandis, pseudotsuga menziesii
	Ponderosa Pine	Pinus ponderosa
	Rocky Mountain Juniper	Juniperus scopulorum
	Oregon Myrtle	Umbellularia californica
Shrubs	Hairy Manzanita	Arctostaphylos columbiana
	Labrador Tea	Ledum glandulosum
	Incense Cedar	Calocedrus decurrens
	Oceanspray	Holodiscus discolor

Green tip: After the holidays, use the dead materials from natural wreaths, holiday trees, swags, etc. as insulation/protection for tender plants and/or those planted during the year.

And whatever is left of these come spring can be incorporated in the compost heap.

Photo credit: Scott Catron

Blustery days! I love them. They give such a good excuse to wear colorful boots and use an umbrella (two of my favorite wardrobe items). And if you come across a good-sized puddle, it is considered proper behavior to stamp right in the middle where it's deepest but care must be taken not to splash anyone unless they say it's OK.

The trees in my back yard have all dropped their leaves which I carefully allow to remain where they land. By next spring they'll be all composted and ready to spread around the perennials, keeping down weeds and enriching the soil.

The folks whose backyard adjoins mine have planted a group of five poplars. They're about 10-12 feet tall now and have really put on a colorful show this fall. Now that my trees are barren of foliage I have a lovely view of the brilliant gold and red poplar leaves. In the evening, the sun hits them just before it slips below the horizon, setting those rich colors afire with the day's last beams of light. I have not yet figured out how to capture this on my digital camera. I may have to change mediums to water colors.

Oregon State University is currently researching the possibility of using the seed hair fibers from Oregon's poplars for thermal insulation products such as comforters. The seed hairs are "soft, fine and extremely lightweight," all positive characteristics for this type of textile. Read about this work on the Textile Insight website at www.textileinsight.com/articles.php?id=567.

Photo credit: The High Fin Sperm Whale

The beautiful late autumn days are predicted to end (or at least greatly diminish) soon. My pal Jodie and I took a stroll outside a little while ago to see what was happening. It is so warm today! Taking a tip from the weather experts, I covered the patio furniture, pushed the wheelbarrow into the shed and did a little bit of tidying up.

Jodie, as usual, ran around the perimeter of the yard and then took a few detours to her favorite spots. She does this each time we go out. She has appointed herself the General Inspector. She has her nose next to the ground as she quickly races along, one eye always cocked up to watch ahead and the other eye riveted to the ground so she can see what she's smelling.

Our chores done, we admired the newly fallen leaves. We discovered a slug under one of the maple leaves. It wasn't active enough to engage Jodie but I was properly disgusted, not being a fan of the slimy things. I took my potted Lewisia out of it's decorative pot and nestled it down beside the eastern wall of the raised pond. It has spent every winter there since Wally gave it to me. It has two new pups this year--I turned the pot so they will get the best shelter.

I hope you are taking time to get outside during these delicious autumn days. Take a break! Whatever you're doing can wait a few minutes while you breath some fresh air.

The annual show of fall color is once again beginning all around us here in Oregon's Willamette Valley. Smooth Sumac (Rhus glabra), shown at right, is one of the first natives to color up with each leaf progressing from green through gold to orange and finally to brilliant scarlet.

All through October to November, each plant takes its turn in the spotlight. Each shrub and tree has its own natural agenda and its unique color scheme from start to finish.

Deciduous plants end their show by dropping the now colorful leaves to the ground below. Some evergreens also change colors as summer turns to fall and as fall goes into winter, but they omit the overall leaf drop.

For example, our state flower, Tall Oregon Grape (Mahonia aquifolium), has a truly remarkable color sequence that begins with new growth of bronze. Then those bronze leaves change to deep rich green through spring when the bright yellow aromatic flowers are displayed. By the beginning of winter, some of the leaves sport bright red shades with margins of green while the fruits are dark blue. Amazing and natural.

Of course, an evergreen plant that changes leaf color is the exception and not the rule. Most evergreens do exhibit some differences in appearance as the seasons change, however these usually involve blooms or seeds rather than leaf color. For the most part, the autumn leaf phenomenon is in the court of deciduous plants.

From Jennifer, June 6, 2010

The weather this morning is about as close to my version of perfect as it can get:

	Temperature = 60 degrees F
	Sky = cloudy
	Wind = at a standstill
	Rain = missing

And the prediction for tonight is rain, tomorrow it's rain with some wind.

Translated to gardening language: perfect! Plant, pull weeds, trim and admire. Head indoors when you get done or the first rain falls, whichever comes first.

After a shower and clean clothes, I like to sit under the covered patio with a nice cup of herbal tea and make plans for my garden. I find this especially nice when a gentle rain is falling. Watching mother nature water-in the plants I've just added to the garden is so peaceful. Each raindrop soaks into the ground, taking a modicum of dust with it. If the shower is soft enough (and I've prepared the soil enough), there will be few puddles lasting more than 5 minutes or so.

Weeds!

Why is it, do you suppose, that the same soil in our gardens that must be treated fairly and well to ensure proper health of our plants is so adept at growing the most healthy weeds in the universe all on its own with nary a drop of moisture aside from that which nature supplies?

A week ago the small undeveloped patch of bare dirt sported a mere handful of weeds less than an inch tall. Today that little patch has so many weeds it would take all day to count and every one of them is at least a yard high.

My garden is tended by hand and in harmony with the earth. That means somebody has to bend and stoop to pry out the weeds while leaving as much dirt as possible on the ground. Right now this is an easy and rewarding chore. The roots are young, the soil is loose, and nothing has gone to seed. In a month, that scene will have shifted to a battlefield and nobody will be having any fun.

All philosophy aside, if you have a yard or any sort of outdoor gardening space now is the time to get those weeds gone! Just do it! Pull them and compost them and use the resulting 'black gold' to mulch as soon as it's ready.

TIP: If, for some reason, your weeds are recalcitrant about being pulled up, water the area well and deeply and pull them the next day. Alternatively, just cover the area with plastic and let nature cook the weeds. By planting time next fall the weeds will have composted and the dirt should be ready for you.

Ponderings

We had a bit of a stir last evening when I took the dogs out for their last hurrah. No sooner had we got past the threshold than a covey of crows set up a racket as only crows can do. Between their raucous alarm and the dogs seeing who could get there first and my little cane-assisted quick-step, all able bodies were heading for a spot beside the garage.

Sure enough, one of the crows was lying wounded just inside the garden gate. Everybody went quiet while I examined her. She watched me with hope in her eye. Sadly, she was near the end of her road. I placed her on a pile of soft weeds outside the fence, wished her good journey to the other side and left her in nature's hands. Neither she nor her friends nor the dogs said another word. The crows held all further remarks as the dogs and I quietly went inside.

There's something profound about a scenario such as this one. Every soul present entered a circle of one mind. Each was held in utmost respect by the others. No words were spoken, none were required.

Gardening in the Rain

Painting by Kershisnik

www.matterpattern.blogspot.com

What the crow missed

by dying today

Scrollwork blog

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

www.scrollwork.blogspot.com/

2011/04/what-crow-missed-

by-dying-today.html

The Oregonian's home and garden daily tip last Tuesday featured a very bold member of the finch family who struts around wearing Oregon State University's trademark colors of orange and black. Now, that is really "putting your money where your mouth is," as the saying goes.

This fellow decided to patrol a pot of Camas where JoAnn happened to be photographing flora and the occasional fauna at the nursery.

According to Cornell's Lab of Ornithology, spotting Mr. Towhee was a stroke of luck:

". . .your best chance for an unobstructed look at this handsome bird may be in the spring, when males climb into the shrub tops to sing their buzzy songs."

And that's exactly what happened (after a fashion). Well, a pot full of Camas evidently qualifies as a shrub top. Easier footing, as well.

If you'd like to have Spotted Towhees visit your yard, provide some berry-bearing shrubs, some shrubby bushes and make do with fallen leaves beneath shrubs as a mulch. Once established this small habitat will take care of itself with little assist from the gardener. Then sprinkle seeds right on the ground where towhees prefer to dine. Now mind, don't put just any old seed down. It is likely the foraging towhees will miss a few seeds here and there, so use seeds of plants you wouldn't mind cropping up.

Birdsong is not the only benefit of luring these colorful birds to your garden. Feast your eyes on this list of towhee favorite treats:

Ants Beetles Caterpillars Lizards Millipedes Moths

Small salamanders Snails Snakes Sow bugs Spiders

Per The Oregonian: "For vegetables, feed them [towhees] weed and grass seed, and top it off with any wild berry dessert." About those berries, may we suggest wild strawberries and any of these northwest native shrubs:

Bearberry Blackcap Blueberry Gooseberry Huckleberry Salmonberry

Serviceberry Snowberry Squashberry Thimbleberry Wolfberry

See Cornell's All About Birds website at www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Spotted_Towhee/id

Photo credits: Bearberry by Sten Porse, Spotted Towhee by Walter Siegmund

From Jennifer, April 10, 2010

Gardening with natives is the best of both worlds:

1. Native plants in the landscape are every bit as attractive as non-natives.

2. Native plants require less water, less care and are much more pest-resistant than non-natives.

As I walk through my garden, I ponder upon the fact that the same species of plants available today were here before any explorers set foot on our soil gives a sense of harmony with history.

Though the plants were here long before the botanical pioneers came calling, it was those folk of olden times who gave each specimen their scientific names. And very often the plants bear the names of their discoverers. For example:

David Douglas (1798 - 1834), Douglas' Spirea (Spirea douglasii)

Dr. John Scouler (1804 - 1871, Scouler's St. Johnswort (Hypericum scouleri)

Thomas Jefferson Howell (1842 - 1912), Cluster Lily (Brodiaea howelli)

Thomas Nuttall (1786 - 1859), Pacific Dogwood (Cornus nuttallii)

Sir William Jackson Hooker (1785 - 1865), Hooker's Fairy Bells (Prosartes hookeri)

Archibald Menzies (1754 - 1842), Pacific Madrone (Arbutus menziesii)

Meriwether Lewis (1774 - 1809), the plant genus Lewisia

William Clark (1770 - 1838), Pink Fairies (Clarkia pulchella)

h   2009 h

'Tis holiday time once again. City streets have wreaths and bells decorating lamp posts. The stores are all done up with shine and sparkle and seasonal music. The 'red kettles' stand near the entrance to markets and shops, cheerful volunteers ringing their bells to remind us to give a little extra for the warm beds and meals they provide all year.

Shopping is usually a pleasant time right about now. The crush is not here yet, last-minute madness is held in abeyance. More often than not, fellow shoppers are in good humor and children are entranced with it all.

I've not made it to Willamette University's star trees yet but I will. The annual lighting ceremony on Saturday brought visitors young and old to sip hot chocolate, munch cookies and sing carols in the chill air. As the tree lights came on, the transformation was complete.

The five Giant Sequoias (Sequoiadendron giganteum) native to the northwest were planted in 1942 to celebrate the university's 100th anniversary are simply magnificent. The remarkable idea to plant these trees just as they are was a most unusual plan. The trees now at maturity offer an entrancing sight: stand in the center of the trees and look toward the sky to see the foliage at their tops form a five-pointed star.

Here we are on the downhill side of autumn with the usual wind and rain holding court among the elements. Traditional activities such as fall foliage tours, pumpkin carving and Oktoberfests share billing among harvest festivals. We denizens of the northwest are mostly unflappable when the weather puts a surprise spin on our plans.

The other day I was watching a man cleaning a parking lot with his leaf blower. He didn't seem to notice that the leaves were not paying attention. He whooshed them one way and the wind whirled them right back to the place they were before meeting the blower. This is not an unusual sight but it is a most curious thing to see.

Yesterday afternoon I took the dogs out for a little fresh air. They romped and played and raced one another around, the same way they do all year--winter, summer, spring and fall. It wasn't until they came over asking to go indoors that I realized the 'rain' I expected was actually hail on their coats. They seemed oblivious. Apparently rain and hail are identical forms of downfalls to the mind of a dog.

They are dumbfounded when it snows, though. They jump up trying to catch it in their mouths. No matter that they never seem to catch any, they do enjoy the chase.

Speaking of fall color, I noticed that nasty Poison Oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum) along River Road the other day. For all the evil it does when interacting with the skin of susceptible humans, it certainly does a bang-up job of decorating the roadside.

The leaves are red--really red--maybe even more red than Vine Maple or at least a respectable contender. And most of us can attest to what a high level of autumnal splendor that is.

In fact, this plant is one of the two most poisonous on this continent. Each season it displays beauty to lure us to it's treachery. Spring gets those leaves all green and shiny, then the charming little flowers come on just begging to be picked and put in a vase.

But the real devilment comes with the first flush of fall when the high colour display begins. And to think it is native all along the Pacific coastline.

The straw hat I kept on a hook by the back door all summer has been replaced by a wonderful satchel one of my daughters gave me on mother's day. It came with some professional style hand tools, a fine pair of gardening gloves and it has my name embroidered on the side. It's much fancier than anything I'd treat myself to. In years past I'd have stored it away with other 'good' stuff to be used on special occasions. But no more! I've decided that every single day is a special occasion. I've thrown out the junky stuff, donated the second best items and am using the very best every day. The time to celebrate life is now and I'm celebrating in the garden.

Miracles of Nature

Have you ever noticed how nature chooses different color schemes for the seasons?

Late summer's colors are orange and red and golden yellow (with shades in between, of course). I wonder why that is so. Are the tones in the hot zones of the color wheel more attractive to birds and bees? Does nature select these particular hues as an aid to self-preservation?

According to the U.S. Forest Service's website, Celebrating Wildflowers, the flower colors are one aspect of nature's master plan:

"The flower type, shape, color, odor, nectar and structure vary by the type of pollinator that visits them. Such characteristics are considered pollination syndromes and can be used to predict the type of pollinator that will aid the flower in successful reproduction."

Aha! The conspiracy between plants and animals is revealed! What an interesting subject this is and how useful to the gardener who's aim is to develop a garden of particular characteristics.

And there is no need to limit oneself to any single array of colors. Nature has already got that figured out as well.

--In very early spring, the flowers are mostly white and pastel shades of yellow--trillium, Fawn Lily (Erythroniums), Indian Plum (Oemleria cerasiformis).

--As the season takes more of a foothold and heads toward summer, the flowers make their own progression toward pinks and purples--iris, rhododendron, checkermallows (Sidalcea), Bleeding Heart (Dicentra formosa).

--Now, in high summer, we see the lilies and goldenrods and lewisia with their yellows to scarlets.

Fortunately for those gardeners who take that path less travelled, there are exceptions to the majorities.

--In May, if you've a passion for yellow, you can have bowers of flowers in pure yellow on the Oregon Grape of choice: tall (Mahonia aquifolium), Cascade (Mahonia nervosa) or ground cover (Mahonia repens).

--If white is your delight in early summer, plant Mock Orange (Philadelphus lewisii) or Western Azalea (Rhododendron occidentale) or perhaps a Wapato (Sagittaria latifolia) for your bog garden.

Nature is such a varied force, you may discover a garden color scheme never before seen--an edenic design uniquely your own. With native plants, the palette is open to each for his own delight.

About that natural conspiracy:

The website mentioned above, Celebrating Wildflowers, has a chart called Pollinator Syndrome Traits Table showing the pollinators that are attracted by different colored plants. A very interesting and informative bit of natural selection, most useful as well! This link will take you there:

www.fs.fed.us/wildflowers/pollinators/syndromes.shtml

From Jennifer, June 12, 2009

Above, Ivy growth phase

Photo credit: Uwe H Friese

Below, Ivy seed phase

Photo credit: Petr Filippov

From Jennifer, June 6, 2009

Close up and personal

Photo credit: Don Cathartes

Mid-road dining

Photo credit: Kevin Cole

From Jennifer, May 13, 2009

This morning I saw Common Camas (Camassia quamash) beginning to bloom, many Wild Flag (Iris tenax) along the waysides, some of the many types of Spirea, Cow Parsnip (Heracleum lanatum), a few varieties of Checkermallow, several Pacific Dogwood (Cornus nuttallii) and the creamy white flowers of Madrone (Arbutus menziesii).

I was delighted to notice a small herd of goats browsing in an old orchard of Garry Oak (Quercus garryana var. garryana). Most were content to nibble the plants close to the ground but one had placed his fore hooves high against the trunk of an oak and was making a fine breakfast of fresh growth.

It is such a treat to be able to observe such a rich variety of plants native to the northwest on a simple trip to work. It seems each day nature is so overjoyed with her handiwork she gives these surprising and awesome glimpses of what she is about. The lady has her hands full but still finds time to share, to make us laugh, to show us something beautiful right in our own backyards.

I find it to be a never-ending display of bark and leaf and bloom as I walk among the gardens here at the nursery. Wildlife abounds. Birds, butterflies, possum and raccoon, very often a deer ventures forth among the shrubs taking a taste of this, a snip of that. Rarely do these visitors cause much harm. After all, what are a few leaves or sweet tasting flowers when there are so many more in the garden.

I am especially interested in the blooming trees and shrubs that follow the bloom with fruit for the table. So many and such varied flavors! Everyone knows of my love for huckleberries but did you know the Oregon Grapes (Mahonias) are also among the gourmet quality fruit native to the northwestern U.S.? Serviceberry (Amelanchier alnifolia) is beyond description in words with its rich sweet berries. Even the little violets are at home sprinkled in a fresh green salad.

Walk in your gardens. Stoop down to smell the perennials. Clasp branches of shrubs and trees to bring close and breathe deeply the aromas they share.

From Diana, March 6, 2009

h   2008 h

Few will debate the fact that the last several days here in the Willamette Valley have been HOT. The favored temperature by most folks ranges from 70 to 80 in the daytime and around 60 at night.

This past week has exceeded the preferred climate by several degrees and just about everyone is searching for cool spots. I am one of the lucky ones with large trees shading my house on the south and west sides. I don't have air conditioning and really don't need it. I can go outdoors and relax in the shade of a huge maple or one of the other members of my personal forest.

But if your trees have not reached the size to provide shade, there is probably a nice park close by or a spot out in the country with some big trees that wouldn't mind shading you while you picnic or just relax.

While you are taking a siesta or filling up on sandwiches and salad, do a little daydreaming about a tree or two that would add value to your home as well as providing a natural cooling element. Of course, the best trees are natives and we have a grand selection of shade trees that are beautiful. Many have flowers or fruit or nuts, many keep their leaves all year or have vibrant fall color.

Here are a few of our favorite trees for shade:

Dawn Redwood (Metasequoia glyptostroboides) grows fast when young, has bright green leaves, soft to the tough, which turn a beautiful gold color before falling. Gives dappled shade.

Canyon Live Oak (Quercus chrysolepis) is an evergreen oak that likes dry, rocky ground and is very drought resistant. can ready 30-80 feet with a wide, majestic crown. Very hard wood once used for wagon wheels.

Rocky Mountain Sugar Maple (Acer grandidentatum) requires minimal care and usually reaches 20-30 feet at maturity and almost as wide as it is tall. Yellow, orange and red fall leaf color. Not particular about environment, grows in low desert, along streams and high mountain regions.

Western Crabapple (Malus fusca) grows moderately fast to around 40 feet. Branches have sharp spurs, not a good tree for climbing. White clustered flowers, very fragrant, tart fruits make excellent jams if the birds don't get them all.

Buckeye (Aesculus californica) is a chestnut family tree that grows fast to around 20 feet with well-rounded crown. The broad leaves offer superior shade and the beautiful flower spikes in spring have great fragrance and are loved by hummingbirds. The giant chestnut seeds will be carried away by squirrels and chipmunks.

Photo credit: James Gaither

Photo credit: Stan Shebs

Photo credit: A. Gude

From Jennifer, July 19, 2008

From Jennifer, June 15, 2008

From Jennifer, May 3, 2008

This morning was almost more exciting than my poor brain could handle. I guess it was the sunshine that started it all. And it wasn't just me--everybody was smiling and swinging their arms as they walked, observing the birds and flowers and that big blue sky.

The first thing that happened was a little mother duck and about 8 or 10 tiny ducklings chose the very moment I happened to drive down S. River Road to cross that busy street. They were all lined up and the mum had obviously told them to walk smartly along. They were so cute! I immediately turned around and parked, peering through all the bushes to see where they went. I had in mind to snap their photo. Well, I couldn't find them and it was just as well since I had forgotten my camera.

I resumed my commute and it wasn't long before I spied the first native iris of the year growing about a foot away from the first sighting of Camas. No camera, so I drank in their beauty for a moment before I continued on my way.

Enjoying the Serviceberry blooms (Amelanchier alnifolia), the Dogwood trees (Cornus nuttallii) and the last of the Oregon Grape flowers (Mahonia), the Willamette Valley seemed on this edenic morning to be one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

The last surprise before I reached my destination was a large Blue Heron standing, not out in the middle of a field as I usually see them, but quite close to the fence that surrounded a pasture.

So many photo ops, and no camera! I hope you native plant lovers are catching these northwest original trees, shrubs and perennials as they put on their glorious annual show unaided by any earthly gardener. And I hope you get to see some baby ducks and a blue heron!

Great Blue Heron in

Golden Gate Park

Photo by Brocken Inaglory

From Jennifer, April 17, 2008

From Jennifer, April 4, 2008

From Jennifer, March 26, 2008

Winter can be a difficult time for gardening if you're getting along in years, especially when arthritis has moved into your aging frame. The cold seems to seep clear into your bones. Damp and windy days seem made for staying indoors even though you know a bit of fresh air and exercise, however short lived, will keep those knees and other joints lubricated. Helen Hayes said "If you rest, you rust."

So I pull on my sweatshirt and gloves and resolutely step outside. It's not raining today, no need for an umbrella. I've no destination in particular except to see what nature has done with herself since I last ventured forth outside of the commute to work or running errands. It's the weekend and my time is my own.

The maple tree is still bare. It's a nice shape and the bark is interesting. A squirrel is scampering around and runs to the other side of the maple, peeping around it's trunk as I walk by. I pretend I don't see him so he'll not know his cover is blown. The air is sharp on this chilly afternoon and I get a whiff of someone's fireplace. The doug firs are very fragrant. They smell like being out in the woods.

Around the block and I'm ready to come back indoors. I've done my duty, moved my limbs, felt the winter sun on my face and can now enjoy my afternoon tea with clear conscience.

It won't be long, just 4 weeks, until the winter wrens and song sparrows will start to sing. I learned this from a naturalist writer who sends me an email each week called "This Week in the Woods." His name is Rob Sandelin and it was he who inspired me to get off my duff and go outside today. He works with the Monroe School District's Environmental Science School in Monroe, Washington. He is the author of A Field Guide to the Cascades and Olympics. You can see his columns and other writings at http://share3.esd105.wednet.edu:80/rsandelin/NWnature/NWNature.htm. If you subscribe to his mailing list, he'll send you his weekly column.

h   2007 h

From Jennifer, December 2, 2007

Robert Bateman's

Winter Song Chickadees

From Jennifer, November 20, 2007

The Thanksgivings

Translated by Harriet Maxwell Converse from a traditional Iroquois prayer

We who are here present thank the Great Spirit that we are here to praise Him.

We thank Him that He has created men and women, and ordered that these beings shall always be living to multiply the earth.

We thank Him for making the earth and giving these beings its products to live on.

We thank Him for the water that comes out of the earth and runs for our lands.

We thank Him for all the animals on the earth.

We thank Him for certain timbers that grow and have fluids coming from them for us all.

We thank Him for the branches of the trees that grow shadows for our shelter.

We thank Him for the beings that come from the west, the thunder and lightning that water the earth.

We thank Him for the light which we call our oldest brother, the sun that works for our good.

We thank Him for all the fruits that grow on the trees and vines.

We thank Him for his goodness in making the forests, and thank all its trees.

We thank Him for the darkness that gives us rest, and for the kind Being of the darkness that gives us light, the moon.

We thank Him for the bright spots in the skies that give us signs, the stars.

We give Him thanks for our supporters, who had charge of our harvests.

We give thanks that the voice of the Great Spirit can still be heard through the words of Ga-ne-o-di-o.

We thank the Great Spirit that we have the privilege of this pleasant occasion.

We give thanks for the persons who can sing the Great Spirit's music, and hope they will be privileged to continue in his faith.

We thank the Great Spirit for all the persons who perform the ceremonies on this occasion.

Harriet Maxwell, 1836-1903 within a family fascinated by Native cultures. Both her grandfather and her father were Indian traders adopted by the Seneca Nation; her grandfather, Guy Maxwell, earned the respected name "Ta-se-wa-ya-ee" ("Honest Trader").

In 1881, Harriet and husband Frank Converse met Ely and Minnie Parker. Ely was a chief in the Iroquois Nation. He and  Harriet researched, collected many cultural artifacts, most now in collections of the State Museum at Albany. She was a political advocate for the Six Nations, and used her writing skills and enthusiasm on their behalf.

The Seneca Nation adopted her into the Snipe Clan, and named her "Gayaneshaoh." In September of 1891, she became the first white woman condoled as a Six Nations Chief. She was given responsibility of welfare of her adopted people, and given a new name, "Gaiiwanoh," ("The Watcher")

Her collection of essays entitled Myths and Legends of the New York State Iroquois was published 5 years later, edited by Ely Parker's grand-nephew, Arthur C. Parker.

Oregon's Public Broadcasting hosted a program titled "Warrier in Two Worlds" which chronicled Ely Parker's life, beginning with the startlingly prophetic dream his mother had five months before he was born.

See the whole story:

www.pbs.org/warrior/indexf.html

Brrrrr! The wind! The rain! Mother Nature is conducting her annual fall cleaning, sweeping away the debris, mulching the plants and preparing the earth for winter by giving the soil a good soak.

It is not too late to plant. In fact, digging those holes is easier now that the ground is softened up. So put on your waterproof and your gardening clogs or Wellies and dig in!

If it's trees you're planting, the question comes of whether or not to stake the tree. Here's what Oregon State University's Extension Service has to say about it:

Staking and Wind Protection: Generally, you don't need to stake trees. Young trees standing alone with their tops free to move will develop stronger, more resilient trunks than tightly staked trees. However, too much wind can bend young trees and disturb the root ball, damaging roots and stressing the new tree. Staking helps trees that are top-heavy and would lean without additional support. Staking also helps protect trees from vandalism and mechanical damage.

In areas of Oregon exposed to high winds, such as the coastline (and right now, today, the entire Willamette Valley!--Wally), trees may need additional protection. Use temporary wind barriers made of plastic or cloth, but remove them within 1 year once the tree has developed a stronger root system.

To properly stake a tree, you need two wooden or metal posts. Drive them into the sides of the excavated planting hole before you backfill to prevent driving them through the root ball. Secure the tree to the stakes with broad straps or hose; don't use wire because it will girdle the bark of the tree. Guying and staking the tree so it is secure from blowing over, but allow the trunk to move up to 2 inches in any direction.

If staking doesn't allow some movement of the tree's trunk, the tree will not allocate any growth (wood) to the main stem and it will be unstable when you remove the stakes and guying. Remember to remove the stake and guying materials within a year.

---

Autumn Song

by Katherine Mansfield

Now's the time when children's noses

All become as red as roses

And the colour of their faces

Makes me think of orchard places

Where the juicy apples grow,

And tomatoes in a row.

 

And to-day the hardened sinner

Never could be late for dinner,

But will jump up to the table

Just as soon as he is able,

Ask for three times hot roast mutton--

Oh! the shocking little glutton.

 

Come then, find your ball and racket,

Pop into your winter jacket,

With the lovely bear-skin lining.

While the sun is brightly shining,

Let us run and play together

And just love the autumn weather.

The right way to stake most trees (top), the wrong way to stake any tree (center), and the right way to stake a skinny tree that cannot stand on its own (bottom).

What do gardeners do when the rain is falling and the wind is blowing? Plan!

Focus on wildlife in the garden. Find tips for keeping those out that you don't want and attracting the ones you like. Decide which wildlife fits into which category is a purely personal decision. You may like to see deer in your yard in the morning or you may wish they'd go somewhere else. You might love watching birds and want more of them. Or you may think they are a big nuisance.

Whichever way your feelings lie, find ideas you may not have considered before. Gather ideas from various sources, see things other gardeners have tried and swear by.

Personally, I'm a live and let live gardener. Whatever chooses to visit my yard is welcome. Except for that raccoon, that is. Him I took great exception to. He drug down the liner to my pond and all the fish died. He drug my water plants all over the yard (those he didn't eat). He made it clear he had decided to take over my water garden and I objected. I'll tell you this story another time. For now, let's just say that this bandit met his match.

Though everyone in the U.S. remembers what they were doing when the Twin Towers came down on September 11, for once we forego our personal side--we focus on what really happened and what it meant. And mostly, I think, we remember what was lost.

Nothing can undo what was done that day. But we can pay our tributes to the brave people who gave everything they had to help. Some gave their time, some gave money, and some gave their all.

Now in New York there is a memorial of those who died on that dreadful day. Visitors there are profoundly moved as they pause to reflect or to pray.

When we experience something in our lives that we want to remember, whether in joy or sadness, it is often helpful to set aside a place for resting. Many have found planting a tree or shrub or special flower to be a comfort. I think the connection between nature and man is simple, basic, and pure--no frills attached-- just living things growing from the earth on which we stand.

Memory Garden Plants

Should you decide to plant your own living memorial, consider the Big Tree.

One of the oldest living trees is a member of the Cupressaceae family. the genus Sequoia. This is the Coast Redwood (Sequoia sempervirens). It's brothers in the subfamily Sequoioideae are the Giant Sequoia (Sequoiadendron giganteum) and the Dawn Redwood (Metasequoia glyptostroboides).

Giant Sequoias are the largest trees known to man. Larger than a dinosaur, bigger than a whale, as tall as a football field is long, these incredibly huge trees are now native to the coastal regions of Oregon and northern California. The largest living Giant Sequoia is the General Sherman Tree in the Giant Forest area of the Sequoia National Park in California. Standing at 274.9' (83.8 meters) tall, and 102.6' (31.3 meters) in circumference at its base, the General's wood is roughly equivalent to 180 miles of 2x4's. Were this a harvestable lumber tree, it's wood is enough to build over 40 houses, each with 5 rooms. Other trees in the world are taller: the tallest tree in the world is the Coast Redwood, which averages between 300' - 350' in height. Near Oaxaca, Mexico is a cypress which has a greater circumference, 162'. But in sheer mass, the General has no equal, and earns this tree the title of the World's Largest Living Thing.

Other plants favored for memory gardens include:

Paper Birch (Betula papyrifera), often planted in a group of 3 or 5.

Wild Roses (the Little Wild Rose--Rosa gymnocarpa, Nootka Rose--Rosa nutkana, Clustered Rose--Rosa pisocarpa, or Wood's Rose--Rosa woodsii)

Western or Sessile Trillium (t. ovatum or t. parviflorum) which come up every spring and bloom at Easter time.

Or, to remember a special person, select a plant they particularly loved. Include a place to sit in your memory garden, perhaps a wind chime or a nice rock.

Giant Sequoia

Caveat Emptor - "Let the Buyer Beware!" I once received a beautiful autumn coffee-table arrangement of flowers from a florist that had twined all within it strands of Atropa belladonna (Deadly Nightshade).

Since I was familiar with this plant I knew it was highly poisonous and those intriguing fruits would be all too attractive to my 2 year old grandson.

I called the florist and asked if he knew what he had put in the arrangement. He did, but he did not know it was poison! Needless to say, he knows better now and I sincerely hope he is doing better.

If you don't know this plant, here are photos of the flower and fruit. Beautiful, no?

From Jennifer, April 1, 2007

Spring is truly here in the northwest. Birds are singing and the sun shines almost every day. The spring rain blesses the garden with gentle drops, quenching the thirst of plants emerging from winter slumber. Gusts of wind sweep clean the bits of debris left from winter frost. My heart is gladdened by these signs of life which give fresh hope--it truly does spring eternal.

Nature is filled with such complex roles played by flora and fauna. The young leaves tempt slugs and bugs while the birds watch from the branches above, waiting for just the right tasty morsel to crawl into view. Cats keep their eyes out for the unwary bird. The survival of the fittest plays out again and again, yet some live to see tomorrow. Always, there will be tomorrow. And the garden awaits.

Enjoy the spring and each fresh new day, go into your garden when you feel blue or tired or stressed. There will be the regeneration of spirit that keeps us going day after day after wonderful day. 

h   2006 h

A great man, Martin Luther King, Jr., spoke the following words which are very appropriate at this time of year.

"Everybody can be great. Because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve.... You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love."

--Martin Luther King, Jr.

It is easy to get caught up in the hustle-bustle buying and wrapping and stringing of lights, the rush to make the perfect holiday.

But take a moment to remember what we're here for and how we can do the best good with our lives. For that is the true spirit of this time.

This work is in the public

domain in the United

States because it is a

work of the United States

Federal Government under

the terms of 17 U.S.C. § 105.

How fortunate we are to live in these times when there are so many tools and machines to help us do our work, movies and concerts and zoos to amuse us. We have grocery stores and clothing stores and furniture stores, stores for just about anything we could imagine--we need not craft a chair or grow our own fruit. We have medicines and doctors to care for our ills--cures for diseases that were not even identified 100 years ago. We have police officers and firefighters who come to our aid when we call.

I fear sometimes we are too "advanced." I fear we have forgotten the joy of sewing a shirt or knitting sox. The spirited feeling we get from singing or twirling around just for the sheer nonsense of it.

At this holiday dedicated to giving thanks, let us be aware of the amazing world in which we live. Let us not be so "important" we forget how truly blessed we are.

The one single activity that centers me and brings me back to earth when my self-importance has begun to soar is to stand beneath a big tree so that I can remember how big I really am.

My favorite tree for this activity is the Giant Sequoia. How fitting to stand in the company of a tree named for a man of questionable ancestry, a man whose physical injuries did not stop his task of forming symbols so that the Cherokee language could be written. A man small in stature for whom the tallest tree in the world is named.

"Man sometimes thinks he's been elevated to be the controller, the ruler. But he's not. He's only a part of the whole. Man's job is not to exploit but to oversee, to be a steward. Man has responsibility, not power."
"I do not see a delegation for the four-footed. I see no seat for the eagles. We forget and we consider ourselves superior. But we are after all a mere part of the Creation. And we must consider to understand where we are. And we stand somewhere between the mountain and the Ant. Somewhere and only there as part and parcel of the Creation."

Oren Lyons, Onondaga

(From an address to the Non-Governmental Organizations of the United Nations, Geneva, Switzerland, 1977)

ᏎᏉᏯ Se-quo-ya

Sequoyah, sculpted bronze

figure by Lee Lawrie in

1939. Door detail,

east entrance,

Library of Congress

John Adams Building,

Washington, D.C.

Ok, enough is enough. Rain, rain go away! Even an eternal Pollyanna like me can get their fill of a good thing. Rain is good, don't get me wrong. But there are limits to one's cheerful acceptance of water hurling itself out of the sky and I think I've reached it for me. It's time to pull out all the stops and do some gardening attitude adjustment.

I have a plan, one that cannot fail. Using the very best gloom-fighters at my disposal I shall carry my brightest umbrella and follow this plan to find some joy in the rain:

• Starting tomorrow, I am going to wear something yellow every day. (Yellow = sunshine.)
• I will drink only herbal teas with flowers in their names, like rose hip and elderberry and Red Osier Dogwood.
• I will dedicate each day to a plant (a northwest native plant, of course).
• As the rain comes down I will think of how thankful that plant is to have all the water he or she could possibly want.
• I will remember how dry it was a few months ago and how beautiful that plant will be when springtime comes.
• And every evening I will curl up with my favorite lap robe and read my NW Native Plant Journals. We've been publishing them since October, 2003 so there'll be plenty to read.

And sometimes, on especially dreary days, I'll study my Garden Planner and the catalog I printed out--the color version--and plan my next garden.

OK, the rain may stay. And when the sun peeps through, there will be a rainbow to remind me of why there is rain.

The Rainy Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the moldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the moldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

Photo credit: Wing-Chi Poon

Autumn in the northwest is such a joy! We've had a very dry summer so every few days we get a spell of rain that lasts a day or two. The world is dark and damp and the colors are gray. Then the rain clears up and a whole bunch of trees and shrubs that were quite common looking before the rain are suddenly vibrantly colored in the fall shades we love so well--red and orange and gold and bronze and every single shade in between.

Today is one of those sunny days after a rain. The plants in the nursery are simply glowing in their fall beauty. And to think: they are on sale, even some of the very large trees are on sale!! All that passionate autumn bliss is here at discounts to put a little smile on your budget!

From Jennifer, April 10, 2006

h   2005 h

From Jennifer, December 30, 2005

An old custom of New Year's resolutions brings us

to thoughts of what we could have done better

or what we could have done at all.

Taking our pens, we write our resolution letter.

We promise to get thinner,

and young boys vow to be tall.

We'll save our money,

we'll mind our manners,

we'll never make folk feel small.

We hopefully swear to keep these rules,

we swear we'll recall!

But by mid-January, alas,

we've forgotten them all.

---

For the most part, New Year Resolutions are a practice in futility that will make us feel woefully inadequate a month later when we remember all those high-fallutin' but sincerely meant promises to ourselves.

This year, I have but one resolution: To tend my garden with love. All those other qualities and habits I wish to teach myself will naturally find me if I but do this one thing. I will be a good steward to the garden with which I have been blessed. My resolutions are made.

---

The following poem, A New Year's Gift, was sent to Sir Simeon Steward by the poet, Robert Herrick (baptized 24 August 1591 – buried 15 October 1674⁾:

No news of navies burnt at seas ;
No noise of late-spawn'd tittyries ;
No closet plot, or open vent,
That frights men with a parliament ;
No new device or late-found trick
To read by the stars the kingdom's sick ;
No gin to catch the state, or wring
The freeborn nostrils of the king,
We send to you ; but here a jolly
Verse, crown'd with ivy and with holly,
That tells of winter's tales and mirth,
That milkmaids make about the hearth,
Of Christmas sports, the wassail-bowl,
That tost up, after fox-i'-th'-hole ;
Of blind-man-buff, and of the care
That young men have to shoe the mare ;
Of twelve-tide cakes, of peas and beans,
Wherewith ye make those merry scenes,
Whenas ye choose your king and queen,
And cry out : Hey, for our town green ;
Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use
Husbands and wives by streaks to choose ;
Of crackling laurel, which fore-sounds
A plenteous harvest to your grounds ;
Of these and such-like things for shift,
We send instead of New-Year's gift.
Read then, and when your faces shine
With buxom meat and cap'ring wine,
Remember us in cups full crown'd,
And let our city-health go round,
Quite through the young maids and the men,
To the ninth number, if not ten ;
Until the fired chestnuts leap
For joy to see the fruits ye reap
From the plump chalice and the cup,
That tempts till it be tossed up ;
Then as ye sit about your embers,
Call not to mind those fled Decembers,
But think on these that are t' appear
As daughters to the instant year :
Sit crown'd with rosebuds, and carouse
Till Liber Pater twirls the house
About your ears ; and lay upon
The year your cares that's fled and gone.
And let the russet swains the plough
And harrow hang up resting now ;
And to the bagpipe all address,
Till sleep takes place of weariness.
And thus, throughout, with Christmas plays
Frolic the full twelve holidays.

Peaceful Garden

Cow Parsnip

(Heracleum lanatum)

Red-Osier Dogwood

(Cornus sericea ssp. stolonifera)

Title page of the book,

Hesperides, by Robert

Herrick dated 1648

Isn't it a wonderful time of year? Today I went into a building that was built in the late 1800's. As I walked in the door I was taken back to another time.

The large foyer was decorated for the holidays with just the right touch. On either side, a living tree was clothed in tiny white lights. Each tree was placed in a big basket. There was an ornate banister accompanying the stairway to the second floor with pine branches twined all along and a big cluster or pine cones and ribbons at each landing. Such beauty from natural materials, simply adorned.

Forget about the big figures that talk and sing, flash and blink and play scratchy recordings of "ho ho ho."

What I saw today was, for me, a holiday scene of style and grace to bring wonder to the heart of any child.

Sometimes nature gets creative and decides to make a new kind of plant. Such an occurrence happened many years ago when, for some reason, the Alaska Cedar (Chamaecyparis nootkatensis) and the Monterey Cypress (Cupressus macrocarpa) morphed into a brand new plant, the Leland Cypress (Cupressocyparis leylandii).

This natural hybrid species is fast growing (gets to 55 or 60 feet in 25 years). It's not particular about soil but it wants full sun. It is hardy to USDA zone 7.

Highly recommended for fast growing hedges. However, be warned that a Leland Cypress hedge can get out of hand in a hurry if not pruned regularly while in the active growth stages. Though the average height of the mature tree is 55 to 60 feet, when young they can grow 3 feet a year. There are specimens in England's Kew Garden that are 120 feet tall!

Consider using the Leland Cypress as a unique holiday tree before planting out. Very fragrant and tidy, this tree will not mind being indoors for a week to 10 days. Choose a place in the home away from heat sources.

Photo credit: Berean Hunter

The "winter of no winter" is how we may come to refer to this past winter. Plants here in the northwest are confused and it seems that few are behaving in typical fashion.

Here in the Willamette Valley this confusion is greatly in evidence in our Vine Maple trees (Acer circinatum). Some Vine Maples are dropping Fall leaves right now, in mid August - others are not.

If we have a normal winter with freezing, I suspect these trees will get back to normal. But for right now, wait and see.

From Jennifer, August 5, 2005

h   2004 h

From Jennifer, July 23, 2004

Summer in the Mountains by Li Po

Gently I stir a white feather fan,

With open shirt sitting in a green wood.

I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;

A wind from the pine-tree trickles on my bare head.

 

Li T'ai-po tr. Waley

h   2003 h

This week brings one day especially dedicated to appreciation and thankfulness for all the wonders we enjoy in our lives. Visions of pilgrims and turkeys (or tofurkeys) may come to mind, or we may think of the First Peoples who welcomed those who made the journey to new shores.

We think it's a most appropriate time to realize that the native plants we grow are the same plants those long-ago folk saw every day. What a wonderful world!

Share some wonder with people you meet. Share food and clothing and things that keep us alive, but share the wonder and smiles and joy as well.

Thanksgiving
by Joyce Kilmer

(For John Bunker)

The roar of the world is in my ears.
Thank God for the roar of the world!
Thank God for the mighty tide of fears
Against me always hurled!

Thank God for the bitter and ceaseless strife,
And the sting of His chastening rod!
Thank God for the stress and the pain of life,
And Oh, thank God for God!

Enjoy the changing scenery wherever you are. Notice the plants and wildlife as you go about your daily travels. There is beauty everywhere and surprises await around every corner!

Just this week, we've seen deer, squirrels, red-tailed hawks, quail, and a housecat on the hunt in the middle of a field of grass. The maples have turned hues of scarlet and gold, the oaks are becoming bronze, the rose hips are red and juicy--just the ticket for a hungry bird.

Don't miss the precious views nature affords. Life is short. Enjoy every minute!

Each season on our planet comes with it's special stars in the plant world. Spring is a time of blooming pastels and delicate petals (Indian Plum, trillium), Summer has lush greenery and vibrant flowers (dogwoods and lilies), Winter has the pine cones and winter berries (pines, cedars, snowberry), but fall has the changing leaves that magically go from green to gold and scarlet and orange and brown.

Take your time and enjoy the natural beauty of our northwest native plants. Notice the dogwoods and maples and the mighty oaks. Watch for seed pods of Cow Parsnip. Have the wild rose hips turned red yet? You will find great delight in viewing nature's phenomena of autumn glory.

August seems a long way from spring. The summer sun is hot and makes us inclined to lie in a hammock and watch the clouds roll by. A daydream about springtime native flowers might be a refreshing change!

Spring Pools

by Robert Lee Frost

These pools that, though in forests, still reflect

The total sky almost without defect,

And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,

Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,

And yet not out by any brook or river,

But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds

To darken nature and be summer woods --

Let them think twice before they use their powers

To blot out and drink up and sweep away

These flowery waters and these watery flowers

From snow that melted only yesterday.

Alpine Marsh Marigold

(Caltha leptosepala)

Photo credit: Paul Knoll

From Jennifer, July 24, 2003

Native bulbs and rhizomes are magical elements of the landscape. They live quietly underground in very little space, yet when it is time for them to appear they do so with much fanfare and flourish.

The Tiger Lilies (Lillium columbianum) have just finished blooming. They begin with a whorl of lime-green leaves from which the flower stalk rises from 2-4' tall. Each stalk carries clusters of delicate 2" orange flowers with recurving petals, reminding one of the curved slippers worn in India. Tiger Lilies prefer their bases in the shade of other plants and their graceful ballerina flowers in the sun. Hardy in USDA zones 5-10, they do remarkably well in the garden.

Native Western Trillium or Wakerobin (Trillium ovatum) is the most common trillium in the Northwest. We call them the natural Easter lily because they naturally bloom right about that time, no forcing or manipulation required. Wally often refers to groups of trilliums as little woodland nuns, their pristine blooms look like hats as they bob in the spring breezes. Trillium are hardy USDA zones 5-8.

Sessile Trillium or Smallflower Wakerobin (Trillium parviflorum) are found in Marion and Polk counties in Oregon and are close to rare status. Partial to shade and moist soil, the flowers of Sessile Trillium sit directly on the three leaves instead of on little stems as do the Western Trilliums. Their leaves are somewhat mottled and often larger than those of Western Trillium. Their white bloom changes to purple with age, an added surprise in the garden.

Fawn Lily (Erythronium oreganum) blooms with pale yellow flowers like little fairy ballerinas. The interesting mottled leaves are lovely in the landscape present the flower stalks up to 1' tall. These lilies self-seed generously but it takes many years for the seedlings to mature to flowering plants. One must be patient and enjoy each bloom as it comes. An excellent garden addition, hardy in USDA zones 7-9.

From Jennifer, February 6, 2003

In winter, the shorter days and less frequent sunshine can seem a little bleak and drear. Our thoughts are on tax preparation and budget cuts and the consideration of strife in the world. Although the outlook for our future is not rose-coloured, neither is it dark. It is simply unknown. But that's the way it has always been. We do not know what tomorrow will bring.

We shall set our hearts to an inner peace and plant a tree--a big tree--for as that tree grows and thrives, so shall our lives. And our spirits will soar through it's branches. 

Peace
by Sarah Teasdale

Peace flows into me
As the tide to the pool by the shore;
It is mine forevermore,
It will not ebb like the sea.

I am the pool of blue
That worships the vivid sky;
My hopes were heaven-high,
They are all fulfilled in you.

I am the pool of gold
When sunset burns and dies --
You are my deepening skies;
Give me your stars to hold.

This Coast Redwood, Sequoia

sempervirens, can grow to

be the largest tree in

the whole wide world.

Photo credit: Acroterion

h   2002 h

Today in the United States we pause to celebrate all the things for which we are thankful. Mother nature has been very generous in her gifts of beauty and grace found in native plants.

Be Thankful

Author Unknown

Be thankful that you don't already have everything you desire.
If you did, what would there be to look forward to?
Be thankful when you don't know everything,
for it gives you the opportunity to learn.
Be thankful for the difficult times.
During those times you grow.
Be thankful for your limitations,
because they give you opportunities for improvement.
Be thankful for each new challenge
because it will build your strength and character.
Be thankful for your mistakes.
They will teach you valuable lessons.
Be thankful when you're tired and weary,
because it means you've made a difference.

We wish you all a joyful and pleasant Thanksgiving

Wild Turkey

(Meagris gallopavo intermedia)

Photo credit: Wing-Chi Poon

Autumn has always been a magical time for me. About the middle of September, I call the season "Indian Summer" (even though traditionally Indian Summer is in October or November) and I begin to shrug off the malaise that covers me in late summer when the days are hot and the air is still.

When Indian Summer comes, the morning sun dawns purple in the smoky sky, the geese begin sounding their flight plans and there is an unmistakable change in the atmosphere that brings energy to my heart.

The leaves turn colors, autumn berries are evident, rose hips redden and I can't wait to find my first chanterelle of the year.

Picture being in a woodland meadow plucking salmonberries or thimbleberries or red huckleberries from the shrubs and savoring their sun-warmed juicy goodness. The delicious impromptu picnic is accompanied by birds flitting around nearby, singing their odes to summer's bounty. One can almost feel the sun's caress in this poignant scene.

Now picture this same scene unfolding in your own yard. You can plant these northwest native berries in your landscape or special wildlife habitat and bring the sweet taste of the wild just outside your door. That's a picture you can re-create for years to come.

Oh! The joy of huckleberry pie! My very favorite berry since I was a child, huckleberry's flavor is unique and quite wonderful. Or perhaps a handful of salmonberries sprinkled over your morning bowl of cereal would tempt your tastebuds. Whichever berry you add to your yard will give it's two-fold gift of botanical beauty paired with gastronomical delight.

If berries are not your "cup of tea," consider adding them to your wildlife habitat. The birds and other wildlife will appreciate your thoughtfulness and care in providing them sweet summer food.

A gentle rain is falling as I write this. The Nursery and Gardens look so much different on a rainy day as the dogwood flowers are misted with sparkling drops. When the sun is shining the meadow is golden and shafts of sunlight pierce the boughs of the trees overhead, creating spotlights on the plants below. But when the Springtime rain falls, the Nursery and Gardens become a magical place where I think I can catch a glimpse of a fairy as she peeps around a leaf to watch me--well, almost.

If you're of a mind to have an adventure, come to the Nursery and Gardens on a Spring morning when the gentle rains are falling. Wear a light jacket and bring an umbrella or a hat!

This is the Morton Salt girl from 1921