Garden Spotlight: Matrix Planting in Austria

Posted on August 23, 2023 by Janelle Flory Schrock

I can’t seem to go on vacation nowadays without being stopped in my tracks when I see examples of habitat gardening. I don’t know if it’s just a result of working at the Dyck Arboretum for over ten years, or a function of having been bit by the native plant bug (pun intended). Either way, I want to share with you an excellent example of drought-tolerant, wildlife-friendly plants being utilized in an urban setting.

This summer I visited Vienna, Austria and the surrounding areas, and was struck by several really well-designed perennial gardens. For example, while waiting for a bus, a matrix planting along a hospital accessibility entrance ramp caught my attention.

*I was delighted to see a matrix planting utilizing familiar (to me) perennials outside a clinic in Donaustadt, Austria.*

In the 10 minutes we were at the bus stop, my mind (and my camera) took in as much as they could. I immediately set out to identify how the landscape architect had successfully employed the design principles I’ve heard repeated time and again by my co-workers in their Native Plant School classes.

If you’re not familiar with matrix planting, it’s a landscape design style, popularized by Dutch landscape architect Piet Oudolf. Famous North American gardens using matrix planting include public garden spaces such as “The High Line” in New York City and Lurie Garden in Chicago.

In this particular landscape, I could easily identify the three layers of the matrix: the structural layer, the seasonal interest layer and the ground cover layer. In the structural layer, several small shade trees and a few larger perennials anchored the corners of the planting and in some cases softened particularly sharp edges of the hardscaping.

*Black-eyed susan and aster blooms provided a nice complementary color scheme.*

The seasonal interest layer included repeated blocks of switchgrass, feather reed grass, black-eyed susan, yarrow, asters, ornamental onion, tickseed, and others. Groundcover plants were interspersed throughout for weed management, particularly along the edges of the walkway.

*Repeated patterns along the walkway provided both visual and sensory stability.*

In addition to its visual impact, I also couldn’t ignore the sensory and emotional function that this garden was fulfilling. As my friends and I waited for the bus, we couldn’t help but walk over to feel the softness of the grasses. This planting certainly engaged multiple senses of passersby – providing a welcome contrast to the hardness of the concrete structures that surround it.

*The layers of plants soften the edges of this walkway, but also give patrons of the clinic something interesting to look at and feel as they enter and exit the building.*

There was also a rooftop garden that I imagine is a spacious area for visitors and patients to relax and connect with nature. I didn’t have enough time to run up to it, but I was able to identify switchgrass and Mexican feathergrass from below.

*A rooftop garden was also visible from the street.*

I was so very encouraged by my habitat garden sighting in Vienna. It’s a wonderful feeling to travel and see examples where someone, at some point, must have had the courage to speak up and say “Why don’t we plant a habitat garden here?” It will have a positive impact on our public and our neighborhood, but also on the environment.

We continue to receive more inquiries here at the Arboretum from all sorts of places: not only homeowners and homeowners associations, but also from for profit and not for profit business entities, and from churches, libraries and schools. The collective impact you are making in your communities is awe-inspiring. Keep it up and continue to share with us your habitat gardening challenges and successes!

A review of “Bicycling with Butterflies”

Posted on June 22, 2023 by arboretum-admin

I’m a part of the Nature Book Club through the Dyck Arboretum. One of the books we read this last month was Bicycling with Butterflies: My 10,201 mile journey following the Monarch Migration by Sara Dykman.

I loved this book and we had a great discussion on it. A young woman rides her bike from the monarch refuges in Mexico, up through the United States and into Canada, and back to Mexico again. She follows the same path as the monarchs, gives school programs and talks to anyone who will listen about the importance of the Monarch, the importance of growing milkweed as their food, and supporting them any way that we can.

I’d like to share a few of the most poignant excerpts from this wonderful book.

Dykman writes about the value in riding a bike rather than driving because… “blurred by the pace of human velocity is a whole world crunching, crawling, wriggling, slithering, budding, branching, mating, living, dying, and migrating through a realm most of us look at but rarely see…Milkweed is the sole food source of the monarch caterpillar. There are more than 100 species of milkweed, seventy native to the U.S.”

*Monarch caterpillar on common milkweed, **Asclepias syriaca**. Photo by Brad Guhr.*

“Most of us learn the basics of this transformation of the caterpillar into a butterfly in grade school, but as adults, we stop truly looking, assuming there is nothing new to see. It is when I really look, with all my senses, at the feat of an egg becoming a butterfly that I find God”…“I can’t imagine the amount of ice cream I would need to eat to grow from 150 pounds to 300,000 pounds in just two weeks. We often overlook the grandness of small things.”

She also talks about being a native Kansan.

In my home state, once a galaxy of grass, the tallgrass prairie now barely clings to its soil. Once present from Canada through Texas, now just 1 percent of the historic tallgrass prairie remains, making it one of the most rare and endangered ecosystems in the world…
Sara Dykman

She discusses the interconnectedness of all life forms and the impact of our actions.

“Each of the 2 million tagged monarchs forms a connection to humanity. Every milkweed planted in the 28,210 way stations connects a gardener to the earth. With action comes solution. With action comes connections – connections to a team that is growing bigger every year, and to a migration that is growing smaller but that we will not give up on… You can’t protect just one aspect of a traveler’s journey; to protect the traveler, you must protect their every step, every wing beat. Migrating animals need safe habitat from here to there, in the summer, spring, winter, and fall…

*Monarch butterfly on swamp milkweed, **Asclepias incarnata**, at Dyck Arboretum of the Plains in late August. Photo by Janelle Flory Schrock*.

“Current farming practices don’t leave room for native plants like they once did…Monarchs require milkweed. Without milkweed, there can be no monarchs. We have to change how we farm…There were once billions of monarchs.. now there are millions. There had been millions of Eskimo curlews, billions of passenger pigeons, and trillions of Rocky Mountain locusts–now there are zero…

I began to see the monarch as a symbol of compassion…we recognize the monarch’s struggle. We rally, fight, cry, get angry, and do something.
Sara Dykman

“We are told that manicured lawns are beautiful, that we must control nature in order to live with it, but that is a lie. Beauty is the give and take between plants and animals. Beauty is milkweed ripe with exploding purple blooms, feeding the shaggy maned tussock moths and bees and monarchs. How can we possibly judge so much life as unworthy?”

Plant Profile: Native Irises

Posted on March 29, 2023 by Scott Vogt

When we think about spring, bearded irises often come to our minds. These resilient harbingers of spring often carry personal meaning for gardeners. Many have been shared and passed down from family and friends through the years. For my family, we have nice yellow and white bearded irises from my wife’s mother. They are beautiful reminders of the past that now brighten the spring landscape. We also have some of the more traditional lavender and purple bearded iris. These imported forms come in thousands and thousands of colors and sizes, with more developed every year.

There are over 300 species of irises in the world and there are six different sizes of bearded iris alone. Most of these are native to Europe and Asia. Even though these exotic iris enliven the developing spring landscape, some of the native forms of iris deserve a place in the landscape too. Here are a few garden worthy native Irises that I would recommend.

Dwarf Crested Iris-Iris cristata

If you are looking for a shade tolerant groundcover, this diminutive mat-forming wildflower fits the bill. The underground rhizomes slowly spread in and around other shade loving perennials. It has the distinctive narrow pointed leaves that iris have only smaller. In spring, plants brighten the ground with myriads of small blue-violet irises. This spring beauty prospers in woodland settings with average well drained soils.

*Iris cristata* ‘Eco Bluebird’ Photo credit https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iris_cristata

Copper Iris-Iris fulva

This unusual iris has coppery or reddish flowers in late April through June. The beautiful flowers have three sepals and three petals each arching away from the stem. Like traditional iris, copper iris has bladelike leaves along the flower stems that emerge from a rhizome. They grow two to three feet tall and spread one to two feet. They prefer wetter conditions and thrive in swamps and bottomland forests, and along the edges of sloughs, ditches, canals, and ponds, often in shallow water. It is a species that should be used more often in home gardens, rain gardens, ponds, and water features.

*Iris fulva*

Photo Courtesy
Blue Flag Iris-*Iris virginica shrevei*
There are several native iris under the title of blue flag iris. This iris, commonly known as “Southern Blue Flag”, has a native range in most of the Eastern United States in wetlands and marshes. In June, the striking pale lavender blooms with yellow throats open above the foliage. We have some of these growing on the pond edge in moist, sometimes shallow water. It spread by rhizome to form attractive colonies. Mature height is two to three feet with clumps spreading several feet from the original plant. Give it full sun to partial shade. The key to success for this native iris is adequate or consistent moisture.

*Iris virginica*-Southern Blue Flag Iris Photographed at Ranch North Woods Preserve, Pulaski County, Arkansas
http://By Eric Hunt – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=72555262

Other Irises

Iris ‘Black Gamecock’ (Louisiana hybrid), *Iris versicolor* (Northern blue flag), and *Iris brevicaulis* (blue flag).

Many of these native species of iris are threatened by habitat loss. They are rare or are becoming more rare. Their fragile ecosystems can easily be damaged, so be careful not to disturb iris that you do find in the wild. Admire and take pictures, but don’t try to dig them up because most native irises are extremely difficult to transplant. Most of these plants will not survive the shock of dividing and transplanting. For this reason, on national forest lands, it is illegal to dig or pick the irises. If you have a spot, plant a few native irises grown by reputable nurseries, so you can appreciate, conserve and enjoy these beautiful wildflowers.

We will have several of these iris species available at FloraKansas Native Plant Days.

2023 Native Plant Guide

Fun facts from Bonnie Neubrand’s 2023 calendar:

Iris symbolize: Eloquence, hope, wisdom, communication and faith.

325 species of iris worldwide

50,000 registered varieties of iris

There are two groups of iris – bearded and beardless

Size varies from 5 feet tall to less than 8 inches tall

Origins in the United States trace to Virginia where bulbs were probably planted in the 1600’s

Iris bulbs can be toxic to pets

Prairie Spring Equinox

Posted on March 22, 2023 by Janelle Flory Schrock

Last Monday’s spring equinox marks an interesting time in our calendar. We’re nearly three months into 2023, but following the seasonal calendar, a new year is just about to begin.

The spring equinox is a time of paradox – spring is both here and not yet here. Each day, as the Earth turns in its relationship to the sun, lengthening our time of daylight in the Northern Hemisphere and warming the soil, plants, birds, insects, mammals and amphibians all respond to nature’s alarm clock. Despite cold snaps and high winds, creatures up and down the food chain begin to stir.

Crocus emerge along the path to the greenhouse.

While we may grumble of tree pollen, cold snaps and high winds, something inside of is also buoyed by the innate sense of hope in this slow turning of the seasons. One of our long-time members and neighbors recently shared a series of poems with us, entitled “Arboretum Seasons”, which she wrote in response to her daily walks around the pond during the pandemic. Here are her impressions of spring, reminding us of everything we have yet to enjoy in the coming spring months.

Arboretum Spring

The Arboretum wakens with the music, fragrance

and rainbow hues of Spring

The “Chee-chee-chee” of scarlet Cardinal

the warble of black and orange Oriole

the Robin hunting worms on the lawn

the soft cooing of Doves

and the “Konkaree” of Red-wing Blackbirds

clinging to swaying Cattails lure us.

The fragrant Lilac, the Crocus and Columbine welcome us;

also the Evening Primrose that wilts in the sun.

Delicate green Birch leaves tremble in the breeze.

Vivid pink of Crabapple and pale pink and white

Apple blossoms border the path.

Forsythia adds its gold as we circle the lake.

A cacophony of Spring Peepers hushes as we pass.

Shy Violets peep from the grass beneath towering Cypress

and the Weeping Willow kisses the lake.

As they swim across the lake, Mama and Papa Goose

guard fluffy yellow goslings

from vicious Snapping Turtles.

The perfume of Mock Orange, Daffodil and Narcissus lingers with us as we leave
– Joanna Lehman, Dyck Arboretum member

Daffodils bloom in the Gjerstad memorial garden bed next to remaining *Rudbeckia* seedheads and dormant grasses.

A turtle suns itself on a patch of pond plant life.

The Great Backyard Bird Count (GBBC)

Posted on February 24, 2023 by Lorna Harder

Recently I paused in front of a display at Kauffman Museum in North Newton that featured a pair of whooping cranes and a single Eskimo Curlew. I thought again about the two stories that are told here.

A story of loss and a story of near loss

The story of the Eskimo Curlew is the story of loss. The Eskimo Curlew was a small migratory shorebird, wintering in the Argentine pampas, and breeding in the Arctic. At the turn of the 20^th century, Eskimo curlews numbered in the hundreds of thousands. Yet, in less than 100 years, they would be presumed extinct. In North America, the last individual was seen in 1987 in Nebraska. Market hunting, loss of grasslands, and grasshoppers led to its demise.

Eskimo curlew https://news.mongabay.com/2011/06/last-search-for-the-eskimo-curlew/

The story of Whooping Cranes is the story of saving a species. With 33 known individuals remaining in 1950, whooping cranes were also on the brink of extinction. Whooping cranes remain on the endangered species list today, but through the combined, dedicated efforts of citizens and scientists, populations have increased. Citizens of all ages and interests, familiar with their plight, are helping and tracking the whooping crane migration between Texas and northern Canada. They experience both the joy of watching these magnificent birds, and the satisfaction of assisting in the efforts to preserve this species.

Whooping crane https://savingcranes.org/learn/species-field-guide/whooping-crane/

The loss of the Eskimo Curlew and the near loss of Whooping Cranes are both sobering and humbling, knowing as we do, that losses in North American and global bird populations continue at an astonishing pace.

Bird declines https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/vanishing-1-in-4-birds-gone/

The first-ever comprehensive assessment of net population changes in the U.S. and Canada reveals across-the-board declines that scientists call “staggering.” All told, the North American bird population is down by 2.9 billion breeding adults, with devastating losses among birds in every biome … Grassland bird populations collectively have declined by 53%, or another 720 million birds.
(birds.cornell.edu/home/bring-birds-back/)

Enter the Great Backyard Bird Count

More and more, PEOPLE in every community are concerned, and PEOPLE are making a difference. Enter the Great Backyard Bird Count (GBBC). The GBBC is a global event held annually on the third weekend in February. The GBBC provides a snapshot of how many and where birds are present. This year citizens from across the U.S. have submitted more than 187,000 checklists, with 665 species reported. Globally, more than 325,000 checklists have recorded 7,417 species.

The GBBC is PEOPLE at work, seeing, hearing, identifying, listing, and enjoying the birds in their yards and gardens. The GBBC is PEOPLE at work as citizen scientists, helping conservationists and scientists and PEOPLE better understand what is happening to bird populations.

Great Backyard Bird Count https://www.birdcount.org/about/

The GBBC helps PEOPLE get outdoors, connect to birds, to nature, to an entire global community, as they discover that, “birds are everywhere, all the time, doing fascinating things.” The GBBC serves as a springboard for PEOPLE to care, to make a difference, to create habitats that welcome birds into local landscapes, to advocate for bird conservation at the local, state and federal levels, and to recognize a kinship with the natural world of which birds are such a beautiful and important part.

Seven steps YOU can take to protect birds:

Watch Birds, Share What You See
Make Windows Safer, Day and Night
Keep Cats Indoors
Reduce Lawn, Plant Natives
Avoid Pesticides
Drink Shade-Grown Coffee That’s Good for Birds
Protect Our Planet from Plastic

References

Audubon Society. audubon.org/conservation/about-great-backyard-bird-count

Cornell Lab. allaboutbirds.org/news/vanishing-1-in-4-birds-gone/

Cornell Lab. birds.cornell.edu/home/seven-simple-actions-to-help-birds/

eBird. ebird.org/home

Explore GBBC 2023 data. ebird.org/gbbc/region/world/regions

Great Backyard Bird Count. birdcount.org/

Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. https://nationalzoo.si.edu/migratory-birds/ecological-benefits-shade-grown-coffee

For further reading:

Ackerman, Jennifer. 2020. The Bird Way. New York: Penguin Press.

Sibley, David Allen. 2014. Sibley’s Guide to Birds, 2^nd Ed.

Strassman, Joan. 2022. Slow Birding: The Art and Science of Enjoying Birds in Your Own Backyard. New York: Penguin Press.

Strycker, Noah. 2015. That Thing with Feathers. New York: Penguin Press.

Winter Green

Posted on February 8, 2023 by Katie Schmidt

This time of year, I am especially thankful for my prairie garden. While the rest of the non-native and plants are looking limp and frozen, many of my prairie plants are standing tall and providing excellent color, texture and shape. Lots of native species even stay green through the coldest days of winter!

Stay Cool

For most garden plants, freezing temps are the abrupt end to the growing season. Their stems and leaves freeze, and with freezing comes the expansion of water in their cells, rupturing their delicate tissues and leaving them limp and mushy. But most popular annuals like peppers, tomatoes, petunias and marigolds, are all tropical plants not accustomed to the cold. Perennial native prairie species have a few *tricks up their leaves* when it comes to surviving the cold. To stay green and prevent cell destruction, some plants loose their leaves all together (deciduous trees and shrubs), but others change the chemical composition of their tissues in order to stay green. They load their leaves with sugar, creating a sort of anti-freeze. A leaf full of sugary solutes has a much lower freezing temp than one with regular water inside. Genius!

Care of Winter Plants

Plants that retain a bit of green all winter are a real benefit to anyone who loves to spend time in their garden regardless of the temp. But, if it’s green, its growing (albeit very slowly!). Which means those plants might need a drink of water during the long dry spells of our Kansas winter. Don’t forget to water your landscape in droughty winters, especially if they are newly planted. Check the soil with your finger by pushing it in to the second knuckle — if it’s dry, add some water. If its moist, leave it alone. Too much water in winter causes rot and death to most dryland loving natives. Manage your winter water carefully and you will be rewarded with vigorous green growth in spring!

*This dried **Vernonia fasciculata**, with its seeds dispersed from the flowers already, has little star shaped sepals left behind that look great in dried arrangments.*

If the grey, cold weather is getting you down, remember to get out in your prairie garden or visit the Arboretum to observe all the wonderful shapes, textures, and colors our native plants have to offer. Before you know it, spring will be here and we will be reminiscing about the slow, peaceful days of winter!

Songs of the Solstice

Posted on December 21, 2022 by Katie Schmidt

When the weather is cold and the days are short, I just want to curl up on the couch and rest. And according to prairie plants, that’s exactly what I should be doing! As much as it pains us to see our favorite plants dry up and freeze in the fall, cold weather is an essential pause in the growth cycle for some plant species. Dormancy, vernalization, and cycles of freezing and thawing are an important part of their development.

A winter sunset dips below the horizon behind a bur oak tree and a snowy landscape. — *Photo by Gerry Epp*

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Contrary to how we feel about it, cold weather is a very good thing for plants in our region. In fact, there are many species of plants that cannot bloom without a prolonged cold period. Apple trees cannot form proper buds without 500 to 1,000 “chilling hours”. Tulips will not bloom without 12 to 16 weeks of cold soil temperatures. And even the historically finicky peach tree will not set fruit without a proper cold spell during the winter months. This cold period for plants is called ‘vernalization’. It all has to do with needing some rest — after a strenuous growing season, many plants use the signal of dark days and cold temperatures to go into their dormant phase, an energy-saving adaptation that allows them to jump back into full blossom in the spring. Why fight the harsh winter conditions when you can just sleep through it?

On Dormancy, or Rest Ye Merry Gentle(Plants)

Dormancy is not death, it is more like a long, deep sleep. In preparation for winter, plants stop actively growing and begin to transport their sugar reserves into their roots. This means the foliage may look shriveled and dried, but the roots are more alive than ever, packed with energy to get through the winter. When they go dormant, all the internal chemical processes of the plant slow down. Isn’t that good advice for us too? Slow down, give up trying to keep up all those lush, green appearances and just focus on your roots and energy reserves! Remember to give your plants a bit of water of the winter if things get abnormally dry; they are resting, but still need moisture to stay alive until spring!

The dormant trees of the Arboretum take the spotlight during our Prairie Lights event. The lights accentuate their form and help us to appreciate them even in the off season. Photo by Amy Sharp Photography.

Let It Snow

Native prairie seeds are especially in need of cold, moist winters. These seeds have incredibly hard seed coats, called testas. The outer shell of the seed is hard for many reasons: to protect it from the elements, to prevent it from germinating too soon when conditions are unfavorable, or to survive the inside of a stomach once it is eaten and, – *ahem* – expelled. But this hard seed coat does finally break open after many freezes and thaws in a Kansas winter. Moisture works its way into the seed and helps the process along. Without deep cold, seeds would not germinate as well or at the correct time.

*Seeds take many shapes and forms. Line drawing by Lorna Harder, can be found on our “Prairie Restoration” informational sign on the Arb grounds.*

Winter can be a beautiful season if you know where to look. Prairie plants provide interesting textures and colors even through the darkest days of December and January. And more than being aesthetically pleasing, leaving gardens standing through winter provides the necessary habitat and shelter for wildlife to survive cold temperatures. As you enjoy your own kind of dormancy this winter solstice, I hope you find some comfort in the natural cycles of waking and rest happening all around you!

A Few Favorite Plants

Posted on December 14, 2022 by Scott Vogt

It looks like winter is settling in as the forecast seems to be turning colder in the coming days. It is a perfect time to reflect on the past year in the garden.

It has been a tough year to grow just about everything, due to the monsoon rains in spring followed by the desert dry months of summer and fall. In spite of the high and lows, wet and dry, there are a handful of plants that stood out in the landscape – plants that flourished rather than floundered.

Amsonia hubrichtii ‘Butterscotch’

A favorite plant of mine has been Amsonia. I like just about all of them including, ‘Sting Theory’, ‘Storm Cloud’, ‘Blue Ice’, Amsonia illustris and Amsonia hubrichtii. However, I have really enjoyed the cultivar, Amsonia hubrichtii ‘Butterscotch’. It has narrow leaves that don’t turn brown on the ends. The pale blue flower clusters in the spring are a perfect topper to these sturdy plants. The real show is in fall when the entire plants turns a golden orangish-brown. The plants will get fuller over time with more and more wands of clean attractive foliage.

Aster oblongifolius ‘Raydon’s Favorite’

We have carried Aster oblongifolius ‘Raydon’s Favorite’ for many years at our plant sales. It continues to be a “favorite” of many customers and I can see why. In the late fall, the entire plant is covered with dark lavender blooms that pollinators love. It extends the bloom time in the garden into late October. The plants are tidy and don’t become leggy like some of the New England asters with their dry leaves on the bottom of the stems. It does slowly spread but can be divided, shared with your neighbor or planted somewhere else in the garden. Drought tolerant and tough, it is a plant I have come to admire.

Scutellaria resinosa ‘Smoky Hills’

One of Katie’s top performers in her home garden has been Scutellaria resinosa. Resinous skullcap is a compact little beauty of the short grass prairie. The bright blue/purple flowers in summer stand out in the front of a dry sunny border. It is drought tolerant, durable, and unique. The neat little mounds with mouse ear grey-green leaves are charming. It needs well-drained soil. Plant them with Perky Sue, evening primrose or prairie zinnia.

*Scutellaria resinosa* Photo courtesy of Craig Freeman

Schizachyrium scoparium ‘Twilight Zone’

I have really come to appreciate grasses in the garden. The movement and texture in the garden is nice especially through the winter. There is so much diversity and heights of grasses to mix and match in your landscape. A beautiful little bluestem that has performed well for us has been Schizachyrium scoparium ‘Twilight Zone’. This is not your typical little bluestem. It displays beautiful steely-blue foliage with flower spikes of varying purple shades. It seems to be constantly changing through the seasons, slowly shifting to bright purple during autumn. It is a taller grass that will grow 4 to 5 feet in height and reach a spread of about 2 to 3 feet. The beautiful foliage will transition to reddish-orange in the fall. As you know, little bluestems are favorite overwintering homes for insects and pollinators. The seeds are winter foods for a many types of birds.

*Little Bluestem Twilight Zone Photo courtesy Walters Gardens.*

Diervilla lonicera x ‘Kodiak Orange’

This spring I needed some shrubs to go around the deck in my backyard. I planted a Viburnum ‘Blue Muffin’ along with a cross-pollinators Viburnum ‘Little Joe’ to make sure they produced fruit. There was a silky dogwood called ‘Red Rover’ along with a native bush honeysuckle Diervilla lonicera ‘Kodiak Orange’. I have been impressed with the honeysuckle. It never wilted compared to the viburnum and dogwood. It developed tiny yellow honeysuckle-like flowers throughout the summer that attracted butterflies and other pollinators. The orange-green leaves have turned yellow-orange this fall which is a bonus. It is quite adaptable to dry soil once established. My yard is quite shady except mid-afternoon and they thrived. There are many non-native and invasive honeysuckles including Morrow’s honeysuckle, Tatarian honeysuckle, Amur honeysuckle, and Japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera spp.). Although somewhat similar in appearance Diervilla are native and not invasive. One thing I have learned about invasive honeysuckles is that they have hollow stems. Native honeysuckles have solid stems.

I hope you have been able to think back through this year and reminisce about your garden successes. We often put so much time and effort into our gardens that we don’t step back and take in the scenery. Also, remember that a beautiful landscape that we enjoy has ties to ecology, creating habitat and helping wildlife too.

Garden Spotlight: A Berlin Community Garden

Posted on December 6, 2022 by Janelle Flory Schrock

This past summer I had the opportunity to spend several weeks visiting friends and familiar places in Germany. Having lived there for three years in my twenties, this visit provided a much-needed cure for my Wanderlust.

Turns out that when you wait so long to return to a favorite place, you see it with fresh eyes. In my twenties, I knew nothing about plants, ecosystems or public gardens. I didn’t observe my surroundings with an incessant need to identify the wildflowers growing on the hillsides or alongside the railroad tracks. It would never have occurred to me to wonder if the flowers planted in people’s gardens originated from local ecotype seed, or were imported from North America or Asia. And I was much more interested in etymology than entomology.

Though I have learned so very much in my time working at the Arboretum, I realized on this trip that I have so many questions regarding the world of plants and gardening, and I lean heavily on my colleagues for the answers. (Thank you, Scott, Brad, Katie and Lorna!) Nevertheless, I’d like to share with you some of the gardens that I saw this summer, and the questions they caused me to ask.

In this post, I’d like to tell you a little about the “Sonnenschein” Kleingartenanlage, a 96 year old community garden on the outskirts of eastern Berlin.

Kleingartenanlagen (Small Garden Allotments)

Founded in 1926, the “Sunshine” Garden includes 130 garden plots, averaging around 4,000 square feet, each equipped with electricity and water. A clubhouse and playground, added in the 1950s, sit at the center of the gardens. One edge of the gardens opens directly onto the Orankesee, a lake and nature reserve.

These types of community garden complexes became popular in Germany, as well as in other European countries, in the late 1800s. In former East Germany, they are called simply “Kleingartenanlagen”, or small garden allotments. In former West Germany, they are called “Schrebergaerten”, named after Moritz Schreber, a psychologist who, in the wake of the Industrial Revolution, encouraged parents to get children outside and into nature to improve their health. It is estimated that there are currently 1.5 million of these community gardens throughout Germany.

As I meandered through the streets of the gardens, I was struck by how much I take for granted – the access I have living here on the prairie to open, green spaces. During times of war, these garden plots often became a source of survival for city-dwelling families who otherwise had little access to fresh produce. In recent decades, it seems they have been viewed by some as being rather kitschy and old-fashioned, but in the aftermath of the pandemic-induced gardening revival, perhaps they will see a rise in popularity.

*Translation: Weeds for Sale. Due to high demand, you pick only.*

Oddly enough, I felt connected to these gardeners, having never met them. But in observing how they chose to tend their small gardens, how they expressed themselves through their land stewarding choices, it was like they were introducing themselves to me, gardener to gardener. And I was appreciative of their hospitality, toward me and toward the other creatures who visit their gardens.

I took many, many pictures that day, and so I’ll leave you with a few of my favorites. May they bring you a sense of connectedness, joy and gratitude, as they do for me. Happy gardening!

Grateful for the Beauty of Nature

Posted on November 23, 2022 by Scott Vogt

I am grateful for the beauty of nature which reminds me to slow down and take a deep breath.

*Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve. Photo by Brad Guhr.*

How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter’s sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my fingertips.
At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.
Helen Keller, Three Days to See

In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.
John Muir

*Pale purple coneflower. Photo by Brad Guhr.*

He will see the beauty, as well as the unity, of the whole, and know the two cannot be separated. We love (and make intelligent use of) what we have learned to understand.
Aldo Leopold

Follow down the leg past knee
on down where
world and body meet.

The sole you’ll find
amid the grime.
calloused pads that bruise and bleed.

Like Achilles
our strength will be
the same that makes us weak.

So descend your frame
and find your soul
hid on the bottom of your feet.
John Simmering

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Category Archives: Reflections on Nature