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!

Stumped: Reimagining a garden after tree loss

Posted on May 24, 2023 by Janelle Flory Schrock

Ten years ago, my spouse and I purchased our first home in Central Kansas. The backyard was dominated by a large American Elm tree that had miraculously, and with a lot of help from a local arborist, survived the bout of Dutch Elm Disease that had taken nearly all of the American Elms in town in the 1990s.

*In June of 2013, an aged American Elm tree beautifully shaded our backyard.*

What this meant was that, like many Kansas homeowners, we had a large area of dry shade to contend with. Informed by my spouse’s childhood experiences growing up in the bush of South Sudan, we were not inclined to water our lawn just to maintain the status quo. So, the challenge was, how do we increase biodiversity in this backyard without using supplemental watering? We were stumped.

We tried a few things in the deep shade of the tree – transplanted spiderwort, river oats and columbine from a friend. And although these species hung in there pretty well, they certainly did not thrive. Ideally, they would have liked a little more sun and a lot more rain.

Here at the Arboretum, in our list of frequently asked questions at FloraKansas Native Plant Days events, “Which Kansas native plants will grow well in dry shade?” rises to the top. Unfortunately, the answer is “Hardly any.”

In a prairie ecosystem, trees will only flourish along creekbanks or near another water source. The garden condition “dry shade” is a human-created environment that simply does not exist in nature. For humans, and particularly for those of us who are relatively new to gardening with native plants, this is often a difficult reality to process and to accept.

*Over the years, several major ice storms and wind events have weakened the structure of the tree. The final blow came in August of 2021.* *It was time to have the tree removed.*

Another reality that was difficult for us to accept was that the elm tree was in an irreversible decline. The health of the tree had been compromised by an ice storm in 2007. Slowly over time, the rotting that had begun after that first injury made the elm more susceptible to being damaged again. As it became clear to us that this tree was in a death process, we focused our efforts on developing the front yard and enjoyed the shade while we could.

*After the tree had been removed, we needed to reimagine what our backyard was going to be.*

In the fall of 2021, we finally admitted to ourselves that the tree needed to be removed. We allowed ourselves a year to sit with the new reality of a full sun back yard. We left the stump and planted it with yarrow, little bluestem and soapwort. We have also contemplated growing mushrooms in the stump. Over time, we will watch the stump disintegrate and return to the earth. For now, it provides a lovely focal point.

In the raised rock garden beds surrounding the stump and along the south fence, we have filled in with plants that prefer well-drained soil, including butterfly milkweed, Missouri evening primrose, blue flax, soapwort, and several adaptable creeping groundcovers. Also, I couldn’t help but try my guilty pleasure plant that would prefer to be at higher elevations, pineleaf penstemon.

Missouri evening primrose (*Oenathera macrocarpa)*

In a test area that was formerly in deep shade, we have seeded buffalograss and encouraged it to spread. In retrospect, I wish we had done this to the whole lawn area right away, because this spring, much of the former fescue lawn has mostly been populated by dandelions, wild lettuce, henbit, clover and spurge. Nevertheless, we are motivated to continue to populate the back yard with sun loving prairie plants.

The lawn is currently a polyculture of warm season grasses and annual weeds (please don’t judge!), but we are on our way to establishing buffalograss and determining where we would like to plant native perennials.

I know there are likely many things we could have done so much better. Do I have regrets? Definitely. Could we have saved that elm tree by trimming it every year? Probably. In stewarding this small piece of the land, we are far from perfect. But honestly, in this process, I’ve learned that the land is more forgiving than humans are, as long as you don’t try to bend it to your own will. If you listen and observe your garden, over time, it will tell you how it wants to be. It will allow you to make mistakes, and then correct them. It will teach you to view the cycle of life in new ways. And if you can hold back from trying to control it too much, you will be rewarded by new and unexpected discoveries on a daily basis.

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.

Welcoming the Year Ahead

Posted on December 29, 2022 by Janelle Flory Schrock

As 2022 comes to a close, we reflect back on all the wonderful things we accomplished with your help in the past twelve months – we completed our island renovation project, replaced our greenhouse roof with a more wind-hardy solution, watched the plants persevere through a very wet spring and an extremely dry summer and fall, and installed a new welcome sign! And now we dream of what 2023 will bring for our prairie garden.

In this period of rest and dormancy, we invite you to join us in welcoming all of the possibilities that the coming year holds for you and for the land that you steward.

From left to right: Scott Vogt, Executive Director; Katie Schmidt, Horticulturist/Grounds Manager; Brad Guhr, Prairie Restoration/Education/Concert Series Coordinator; Janelle Flory Schrock, Public Engagement Coordinator

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!

Garden Spotlight: Backyard Meadow in North Newton

Posted on October 19, 2022 by Janelle Flory Schrock

At FloraKansas it’s always a pleasure to hear from members who are renovating an entire landscape in
native and adaptable plants all at once. Dramatic transformations have a wow factor about them, with the instant gratification of an “extreme makeover”. However, so many Dyck Arboretum members have been tending and transforming their gardens over several years or even several decades. This is the case with Ron Flaming’s backyard meadow.

As a Harvey County Master Gardener, Ron’s front garden is immaculate. A well-tended quarter acre of lawn is framed by several foundation beds of carefully-selected shrubs and groundcovers. A small planting of wildflowers surround a weeping understory tree at the curb. But it’s the back garden that really takes you on a native plant journey.

*A rock garden, including a water feature, bird feeders and a river birch, frames the foreground, while the bridge and gate to the meadow draw the visitor further into the backyard.*

Several river birch trees surround a puddling water feature and a rock garden by the patio. A few hummingbird feeders round out this pollinator sheltering space. Just a step beyond the rock garden, a small bridge flanked by formal native plantings, leads you to an arbor and a winding path through a meadow planting.

At the time I visited in early June, the meadow featured mixed-grass prairie species. I was able to recognize little bluestem, side oats grama and prairie dropseed, as well as a smattering of wildflower blooms mixed in: common milkweed, penstemon, and baptisia. Several complementary non-natives like delphinium gave a
nice pop of color as well. The path curved around the back side of a rustic garden shed. Behind the shed is a rare wooded microclimate, which allows understory shrubs and woodland wildflower species to thrive.

Ron’s many-layered meadow garden gives me hope as I grapple with my own yard. Once shaded by an 80-year-old American Elm, my backyard now bakes in full sun, presenting a new challenge. But I am inspired by Ron and am reminded that it’s amazing what a gardener can accomplish over the years with a lot of persistence, creativity and grace.

The act of curating an inviting outdoor space for oneself, one’s family and for wildlife is something I’d like to draw attention to over a series of “Kansas Garden Success Stories” to share with our followers. If you are a member of the Arboretum who would like to share the story of your garden and your journey with Kansas native plants, please send me a message at arboretum@hesston.edu with the subject line, “Garden Spotlight”.

Every grass has its flower.

Posted on July 17, 2019 by Janelle Flory Schrock

Grasses are tenacious harnessers of the prairie.

This humble family survives the open plains and thrives in niches that others are too flamboyant to endure. Their incredibly deep roots protect them from drought, and their tall silica-rich stalks scatter the next generation.

Though often thought of as a backdrop for peaking wildflowers, grasses are actually flowering plants themselves. They evolved to stand and spread under vast, harsh skies. While their fraternal twin the orchid family grew alluring petals and fragrances, the grasses grew into tall and limber pollen casters. Well after the first flowering plants and more recently than the dinosaurs, grasses diverged from other buds as minimalists.

They found resilience in simplicity.

Without a need to attract insects to jumble their genes, grasses didn’t have to spend masses of energy on lavish pageantry. They dug their roots in deeper, grew a few more stickers, and when grazers or burns mowed them down, they came back sprawling.

Minimal beauty

Their flowers stayed small and muted. They lost their petals and rearranged their bracing bracts into something more hardy. When pastures bloom, their shy brilliance pokes out of camouflaged grains. They exist as rows of envelopes, smaller florets, braiding themselves into a diversity of branching inflorescence.

Grass flowers adorn themselves with what looks like a string of pollen-covered lanterns. From within, a curious set of small internal leaves will swell, pushing feathery stigmas and powdery anthers out of the floret.

Grasses are anemophilous, “wind loving.” Although their blooms are only half as vivid as their stalks, many make small colorful gifts to the breeze. The female pistil can come in silver, yellow or deep periwinkle, whereas the male anthers can flaunt yellow, orange, green, crimson and even lavender-purple.

You can see them displaying their small wares right now along the grounds of the Arboretum: blue grama, big bluestem and brome all in their summer suede.

Blue grama, Bouteloua gracilis
Big bluestem, Andropogon gerardii

Beginners to winners

Another reductionist adaptation is their use of spiny awls. You probably know them better as stickers. These extra bristles get caught in fur and socks to be pulled across the prairie. Some awls are bent, some are straight and some will even twist and untwist with fluctuations in humidity, screwing themselves into the earth.

They may have replaced fragrance for practicality, but ultimately it’s had major payoffs. Swaths of pasture persist through drought, fire and storm. Twenty percent of all wild plants in the Great Plains are grasses. Not only do their populations outnumber any other group of flowering plant, their distribution is sweeping. By weight they account for 70 percent of all crops.

Truly subdued prominence.

Resources: Barnard, Iralee. Field Guide to the Common Grasses of Oklahoma, Kansas, and Nebraska. University Press of Kansas, 2014

Gardening for Bees to Celebrate National Pollinator Week

Posted on June 20, 2018 by Janelle Flory Schrock

by Guest Blogger, Lorna Harder

National Pollinator Week celebrates the important role pollinators play in our lives. Bees, butterflies, beetles, bats and birds all support successful crop harvests, and healthy plant and wildlife communities.

So let’s talk about an often overlooked and endlessly intriguing group of pollinators – native bees! Nearly 4,000 species of all shapes and sizes are found in North America. Most live in underground burrows. Those that live above ground nest in tree cavities, hollowed out woody branches, or wildflower stalks. Since native bees have been around for millennia, it should come as no surprise that they are especially good at pollinating native wildflowers and many of our native fruit, nut, berry, and seed crops.

Why garden for bees?

Valuable as they are, native bee populations are in decline due to pesticides and habitat loss, but a resurgence in native plant gardening is making a difference for native bees around the nation. Your native prairie garden supports healthy native bee populations in Kansas.

As you plant your bee garden, think about flower shapes. Small bees, like sweat bees, prefer cone-shaped flowers like black-eyed Susan or Echinacea. Larger bees, like bumble bees, are able to crawl into tube-shaped flowers like penstemons and beebalm. This list identifies just some of the wildflowers and shrubs you can plant for a bee-friendly garden in Kansas!

Get acquainted with native bees. Look for these three easy-to-spot natives in your prairie garden.

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Leaf-cutter_Bee_(Megachile_sp.)_(18444923883).jpg

Leaf Cutter Bees

Leaf cutter bees (Megachile sp) are easy to identify because they carry pollen on the underside of the abdomen. These bees live alone, often nesting in hollowed out dead twigs. Leaf cutter bees cut semi-circles of leaves, which they use to line their nests.

https://pixabay.com/en/bumble-bee-bombus-bee-insect-2375031/

Bumble Bees

Bumble bees (Bombus sp) are buzz pollinators, because they grab onto a flower and buzz their wings so that the pollen vibrates out. Pollen is collected in pollen baskets on the hind legs. These familiar large bright yellow and black bees can nest underground, or in a variety of aboveground sites that provide winter protection. Six bumble bee species have been identified in Kansas.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/memotions/6158235259

Sweat Bees

If you work outside in summer, you have probably been visited by metallic green sweat bees (Agapostemon sp), so named because they lap up sweat with their tongues. These bees nest underground alone or communally. Pollen is collected on the hind legs.

So, as you garden for bees, celebrate these important, hard-working pollinators, get to know the natives, and BEE COUNTED!

Additional resources:

The Xerces Society. https://xerces.org/
Pollinator Partnership. https://pollinator.org/
National Wildlife Federation https://www.nwf.org/Garden-for-Wildlife/About/National-Initiatives/Pollinator-Month

Water Smart: Steps to Establishing Your Native Plants

Posted on May 3, 2017 by Janelle Flory Schrock

Originally published on April 29, 2015, here are some helpful hints from our Executive Director Scott Vogt on getting your native plants established using “waterwise” methods.

Also, due to the rainy weather during our FloraKansas Native Plant Sale last weekend, we are happy to announce we will be having a “rain check” native plant blitz this coming Saturday, May 6, from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. If you missed the weekend sale, come enjoy the lovely weather and consult with Scott and our other native plant experts in the greenhouse.

Now that you have purchased your plants at our FloraKansas plant sale and hopefully gotten them planted in your landscape, you’ll want to be intentional about watering methods. It’s true, native plants are more drought-tolerant than you may be used to. However, in order to get your plants successfully established, they will still need some careful attention these first few weeks and through the summer.

Follow these steps to be “water smart” as you establish your native plants:

The First Year

When planting: Water plants as soon as you get them in the ground. Allow the water to soak in, then water again until the soil is thoroughly moistened.

First Two Weeks: Water plants daily depending on the weather. If it rains, skip a watering. Just-planted roots are only able to absorb soil moisture from the potting soil. They have not attached to their surrounding soil. When you see new growth, the plants have begun to get established.

First Month: Unless the weather is extremely hot and dry, you may be able to decrease watering frequency to two or three times per week. Generally, you want the soil to be dry an inch or two below the surface before you water. Too much water leads to foliar and root problems. It is optimal to allow the soil to dry between watering because this encourages roots to grow deep.

Following Months: Water only when top inch or two of soil dries or when plants display signs of being dry. Water deeply and infrequently. How much water will depend on your soil and environmental conditions. Don’t forget to check your plants during the winter months.

The Second Year

Water deeply as needed. During prolonged periods of dry weather water once or twice per week. Generally, it takes plants at least two years to fully develop a sustaining root system.

The Following Years

Properly planted and watered plants should be fairly well established, and can thrive with less watering than you may expect. Drought-tolerant plants may need no supplemental water, whereas shallow-rooted plants or plants with greater water needs may need water weekly. Many plants, when selected for the conditions in your yard, may need watering only once or twice a month in dry weather.

Best Management Practices for Native Plants (BMPs)

Drought-tolerant plants: Even drought-tolerant plants need regular water until they are established!

Young Trees and Shrubs: Young trees and shrubs need deep regular watering. During times of little or no rain, water deeply once a week until trees become established.

Fertilization: Don’t fertilize new plants. Fertilizing during establishment encourages rapid top growth that is not sustainable by the root system.

Mulch: Mulch new plantings with 1-3 inches of mulch and keep mulch away from plant stems.

Water in the morning: Less water is lost to evaporation.

Choose the right watering method: A soaker hose applies water directly to the soil and reduces evaporation. If you are planting a few plants in an existing planting bed, hand watering can get the new plants the water they need while not overwatering the rest of the bed.

Get to know your soil: Is your soil sand or clay? It greatly affects watering frequency and duration. Our clay soils can only take in about an inch of rain per hour.

Check soil moisture before watering: Check soil moisture with finger or spade. Soil should be dry an inch or two below the surface before you water.

Recheck soil after watering: At least an hour after you water (or two hours with clay soil), probe soil to see how deeply the water penetrated. If it didn’t reach the root zone, you may need to increase your watering. If the area is soggy, try cutting back on watering next time.

Pick the right plant for the right place: Choose plants that are pest-resistant, require less water, and match the sun, shade, and soil in your yard.

Avoid planting in hot, dry weather: Plants will easily stress and not develop healthy roots under hot, dry conditions. If you must plant in summer, plant in the cool of the morning when less water is lost to evaporation.

Planting Trees: When Visions Become Legacies

Posted on October 12, 2016 by Janelle Flory Schrock

“Society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.” – Greek Proverb

A group gathered at the Dyck Arboretum this past Monday evening to remember all that has been accomplished on this plot of land since 1981 – the plant and wildlife communities that have been established, the beauty that has been added to the community of Hesston, the lives that have been impacted, and the lessons learned. All of these fruits came from a vision, a dream, a notion of what was possible – AND a lot of hard work and determination.

And though a 35th anniversary may not seem as notable or momentous as a 25th or a 50th anniversary, this celebration is particularly special to us. It is the first significant celebration we’ve had without both Harold and Evie Dyck, our founders. In the past, we’ve had their words and ideas and presence here to help guide us. Now we, the Dyck Arboretum staff and board, volunteers, as well as the Dyck family members, continue to realize their vision through our work.

On Monday, October 10, 2016, Arboretum staff and board members planted a black oak sapling in commemoration of the 35th anniversary of the first tree planting at the Dyck Arboretum. That first tree, a bur oak, is shown in the background of this photo.

Aldo Leopold: Visionary and Legacy Maker

On Monday we learned about the life and work of another visionary. Aldo Leopold, a towering figure in the world of land conservation, devoted his adult life to studying nature, being in wilderness, and documenting what he heard and saw. (You may recognize Leopold’s name from several of the sculptures along our walking path.) Most notably, Leopold tended a piece of land with his wife and his five children and restored it to its most natural, most wild, most harmonious state.

I was particularly amazed to learn that, over the course of several decades, Leopold’s family planted nearly 50,000 trees on their land, restoring a small farm, with deteriorating sandy soil and a scarcity of wildlife, back to wilderness. When they first acquired the land, one of the Leopold children shared, it wasn’t much to look at. But as they all began to pitch in and work hard, their father’s vision took hold in each of them. Can you imagine – over a period of sixteen years, they planted 3,000 trees EACH YEAR? They had a vision and dream of what that land could be, but it required commitment and lots of hard work to realize that dream.

Visions and Legacies

As a part of the celebration this week, we also planted a tree, a tiny black oak sapling, grown from an acorn that was collected from Leopold’s land in Wisconsin. As we planted this tree not fifty yards away from the first bur oak that was planted here in 1981, it got me thinking about the difference between “vision” and “legacy”.

At what point does someone’s vision or dream for the future become their legacy? Is it when that person is no longer living? Is it when certain milestones or goals are reached? Does it happen slowly, over time, with each acorn or seed that is planted or sown, or with each visitor or student who learns something new? Is it when the vision is passed on, capturing the imagination of a new generation?

To play on a metaphor we use frequently here at the Arboretum, if planting an acorn represents a vision, what part of a tree’s life cycle represents legacy? Could it be when the tree that grows from the acorn drops seeds of its own?

The Dyck Arboretum pond in 1984

Leaving our Own Legacy

When the Dycks first shared their vision with their family, friends and community members, they didn’t have much to show others to illustrate what they were dreaming of. They only had an empty piece of land, once a couple of fields where wheat and alfalfa grew. But they planted that first bur oak tree, and the vision began to spread.

That tree is now on the eastern edge of our parking lot. It is easy to miss, but for the many acorns it drops on the pavement in autumn. Many who visit here will not notice it, nor the small plaque at its base that reads “Bur oak, Quercus macrocarpa. The first tree planted in the Arboretum, October 10, 1981.” It is only one of many trees, shrubs, wildflowers and grasses that have since been planted here, all playing a part in creating a living, breathing, dynamic landscape.

Meanwhile, in the median of the parking lot, there now also grows a small “Leopold” black oak sapling, the shade under which our children and grandchildren may take refuge. It is a piece of Leopold’s legacy and a reminder that our work isn’t done yet. It begins a new legacy for us here at Dyck Arboretum.

“We mourned the loss of the old tree, but knew that a dozen of its progeny standing straight and stalwart on the sands had already taken over its job of wood-making.” – Aldo Leopold, “Good Oak” from A Sand County Almanac