Sustainable Gardening Blog

This is where I took my daily walk while I was in Tucson - Sabino Canyon, part of the National Forest system.  But check out the sign.  "High Mountain Lion Activity - Enter at Your Own Risk."  Like "Falling Rock," it’s one of those signs that probably does more to prevent litigation than accidental deaths.  Well, I didn’t see one but here’s what they look like. Yeah, that would get my attention.  And the spotted one below is what we actually did see roaming the condo community  where I was staying - the bobcat or wildcat.  Kinda like our suburban deer, only lethal.  And the bears mentioned are black bears, also common in the canyon. 

And moving beyond Dorothy’s trio of horrors, there’s the all-night howling of coyotes, and lots of white-tailed deer and rabbits, just to name the larger wildlife.

You could say that Toto and I were definitely not in Maryland anymore.

Yep, I spent the week in Tucson and do you think the vegetation there could be any more alien to an Easterner?  This is a purple prickly pear and a saguaro cactus, both in abundance. Prominent trees are the mesquite, ocotilla and the cottonwood.  Below is another shot of the saguaro, possibly the most anthropomorphic plant there is.  I learned that it lives to be 200 and doesn’t grow its first "arm" until it’s at least 70.

As lovely as the desert is - and its beauty and drama are not lost on me - I wouldn’t want a steady diet of it.  My Maryland garden seems SO lush and green by comparison, even with its leaves dead and covering the ground.

Speaking of leaves, the 35 or so deciduous trees on my property produce an amazing quantity and keep me busy all winter, thank God. 

Picture this man in person, looking much friendlier than in this terrible photo, and always on hand at your favorite nursery to answer your every question - correctly.  He’s Gene Sumi, the answer man at local nurseries in this area - Behnkes for some 20 years and now Homestead Gardens.  And Gene knows everything because he grew up in the biz - landscaping in California.  His forte, pruning, was also his father’s greatest love, so he comes by it naturally.

And this past week he drove two hours in a cold rain from Annapolis to talk to the humble Takoma Hort Club, where he gave one of our best talks ever. Using no slides or live demos, just cheap b/w hand-outs, he revealed the secrets of pruning in a way that just took. 

Wishing observers of Thanksgiving much to be thankful for today, and offering everyone a cheap pet trick for a grin.

Last this week I attended a Senate hearing in which some prominent people like Newt Gingrich called for the U.S. to bring about "regime change" in Iran. The very next day, in marked and welcome contrast, I saw a presentation about the new headquarters of the U.S. Peace Institute on Constitution Avenue, facing the Lincoln Memorial.  The architect is the illustrious Moshe Safdie, so peace isn’t getting short shrift this time ’cause he’s the best.  They intend for the building to be used frequently for public events - can’t wait.

What a nice change from the war-glorifying new World War II Memorial I ranted about earlier, and from the terrible climate in this wartorn town.

I’m totally unqualified. In the gardening world, my B.A. in psych too laughable to mention.  So I resort to calling myself as a "lifelong self-taught gardener" and it’s getting old.  But that’s all going to change.  I just enrolled in the Master Gardener program in D.C. and I’m totally psyched.

First, I get to learn all about botany and other stuff that might actually be useful.  I get to meet all the teachers and 34 other MG wannabees. Then I get to do my 50 hours of community service with my friend Judy Tiger, head of Garden Resources of Washington.  They create and support community and youth gardens throughout D.C. and she wants a "design volunteer".  Goody.

In the end I get to say I’m a Master Gardener with a straight face.  Meanwhile, I’ll come close and call myself a Mad Gardener, with the help of my official certificate from David Hobson.

This critter could be eating one of my tulip bulbs, maybe even enough of them to ruin my meticulously planned Tulip Design of 2006 (alert the media.) But in 2005 every one of the tulips I planted came up, so I’ll tempt fate here and say I found a fool-proof formula for squirrel deterrence.  To wit:  red pepper flakes - cheap and plentiful.  I throw a few flakes into each hole just above the bulb before replacing the rest of the dirt.  I see squirrels perusing the border but they don’t even dig. 

So squirrels, to you I say:  HA!

Maybe you Canadians know all about David Hobson, but I just discovered him - thanks to one of you who linked to him - and am sold.  A humor writer who covers what I’m into?  I’m there. This is a shot of his garden in Ontario someplace, and you should see his shots of Chelsea.  I hate traveling my air nowadays, so I’ll let Dave show me any day. 

Dave’s garden has apparently won awards, which just burns me up.  See, here in the States we don’t even have garden competitions, and I’m jealous of folks who live in a culture that really celebrates gardening.  Just another reason I wish I’d moved to Canada years ago.  If you visit Dave at Gardengripe or any of his related sites, I’ll see you there.

Why my neighbors’ Hydrangea quercifolia ‘Snow Flake’ is so colorful  is beyond me.  My own unnamed oakleaf goes right from green to brown.  Maybe it’s those hot hort researchers again, making our favorite plants better.

But while I’m at it, let me sing the praises of all oakleaf hydrangeas, no matter the coloration.  Talk about your can-do plant.  Full sun to full shade - no problem.  Pruning?  Not needed.  Unlike almost all hydrangeas, it’s not particularly thirsty.  And whether as lone accents or massed as they are here, they’re spectacular in three seasons. 

It’s a gorgeous fall day here in Maryland, so I decided to take a walk through the woods somewhere.  I could have piled in the car and driven an hour or so to reach a park with hiking trails, but instead I just took the woodland path that starts at the end of my garden. 

See, my little house and garden are part of a deep wooded valley with a creek running along the bottom, at least during and after rains. Over the years the 30 or so neighbors who share this slice of heaven have cleaned out the old refrigerators and built a few bridges over the creek.  Kids and their dads have created forts and play areas.  There’s finally a critical mass of neighbors who care about this little ecosystem, and we’ve almost liberated all the trees from their invasive vines.  There’s a lot more to do on that score but with enough organized workdays, it’ll happen.

Now some of you have posted lovely photos of not only natural views from your homes but from even your office windows, and I’ve been jealous as hell.  But if you’ll allow me some bragging rights of my own, this woodland paradise is waay inside the beltway and only 12 minutes by subway from Capitol Hill, which makes living in a large metropolis just about okay with me.