Gardens of France: American Cemetery at Normandy

When most people visit Normandy, they aren’t coming for the gardens. World War II historians flock here from all over the world to learn, explore, and pay tribute to the thousands who died here liberating France, and later freeing Europe. I personally love this area of France. It is my favorite by far, not only for its history, but for its beautiful, rugged landscape and friendly people. (And did I mention Normandy is the home of Camembert cheese?)

Of course, no trip to Normandy would be complete without a stop at the American Cemetery and Memorial. And though we aren’t always looking for great garden design, sometimes I can’t help but notice!

Design That Sets the Tone

This is a garden bed at the entrance to the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial. It surprised me! Modern and understated, blending so well into the blocky, simplistic design of the memorial I almost walked right past it. It is made up of two species: likely Calamagrostis ‘Karl Forrester’ and Gaura lindheimeri, also known as white beeblossom.

This is a perfect example of matching the tone of the place to the design. At such a somber site, it might feel strange to have anything too colorful, jazzy, or disorganized. Instead, the grasses stand tall and stately, the Gaura wispy and low. The combination is perfect here, and when a bit of wind comes through them the planting has wonderful movement, and an ethereal quality. If a garden could whisper, this one would.

Ornamental Grasses

I spotted some familiar North American native grasses as I explored the well kept grounds. Through the memorial and onto the walkway to the cemetery, there is a border of switchgrass and fountaingrass. This combination was repeated multiple times along the way, softening the edges of the walkway – pink and pillowy, and always in motion thanks to the sea winds off the beach. The shrubs and trees behind created a three tiered border – making the walk feel a bit enclosed and sheltered from the otherwise open plain. After a tearful trip through the memorial hall and museum, it is a lovely feeling to be ushered along by this soft texture and gentle swaying movement, mimicking the waves on the beach.

A planting of ornamental grasses at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial

Beauty in the Margins

In Normandy, even the parking lots are beautiful! I was impressed by the city planning. In the many small towns in the area around the beaches, there was an effort to create greenspace at every opportunity. Instead of bare, sparse plantings dominated by mulch we are used to seeing in parking lot islands, I encountered lush shrubs and thickly planted perennials. This is simply a choice of good design — choose plants that thrive under harsh conditions, plant thick enough that weeds cannot get through, and stick to mass plantings for the greatest effect.

Landscape vs Landscaping

The genius of the plantings in this region was that they seemed to blend right into the surrounding rural landscape. I can’t be sure whether the plants used were always native to the area or just well adapted ornamentals. But regardless, great care was taken to blend and match the natural shapes and textures of the seaside climate. Sometimes with grasses that bring to mind sandy hues and beach waves. Or even by using dense shrubs planted in layers, to mimic the famous hedgerows of the area. We can bring this lesson back home by taking careful note of the common shapes, colors, and textures in the natural landscape of our area. Using that, we can recreate those things in our residential landscaping on a smaller scale. It is an abstract way of designing, but the pay off is a garden that feels balanced and very much at home.

Gardens of France: Seaside Plants of St. Malo

St. Malo is known as the corsair city; a place of pirates and lighthouses, rocky islands and medieval walls. Besides great history (and excellent pastry!), a botany-minded visitor in St. Malo can enjoy sightings of lichen, ferns, algae, and more. We did not visit one of the “gardens of France” in a traditional sense, but the plants of the city spoke for themselves, needing no formal planting or ornamentation. This was my second visit to the charming town, and because we got to spend several days here lazily walking the ramparts and beaches, I had plenty of time to admire all the plant life!

View from the Ramparts looking out into the English Channel.

St. Malo has fascinating history that includes Roman occupation, British invasion, pirates, and total bombardment and destruction in World War II; it has been a busy place! There is even a Netflix series out now based on the Pulitzer Prize winning book All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, set in St. Malo. The best way to learn all this history is to head immediately to the ramparts that surround the city. These are 20 meter thick walls that were first constructed in the 12th century. The ramparts contain armory platforms for cannons to fire out at unwelcome ships, and below, seawater-soaked kennels formerly (from 1155 to 1770) used for housing rather vicious dogs that enforced curfew.

The narrow streets of St. Malo sometime before 1940. After the war they were rebuilt to look much the same, retaining the charm of the intra-muros district.Rijksmuseum, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Plants and Place

We didn’t visit any botanical gardens while here, but opted to admire the natural landscapes instead. In modern cities we think of plants a bit like infrastructure – something to be built up, planned for, and placed “just so” for a specific use. We call this greenspace. But in a seaside town like St. Malo, there are plenty of wonderful unplanned “plant moments” around every corner: ferns growing on the stone walls, intrepid xeric species sprouting up along the rampart edges, and salt-tolerant wildflowers on the nearby islands, just a short walk away at low tide. The plants allowed to grow in situ certainly give the city an old world charm. Why, in our modern American landscapes, are we so quick to weed whack and spray every little plant that sprouts up in an unexpected place? Maybe we are a bit overzealous in our management techniques, and we could aim to coexist with the native plants in our surroundings instead of control and prescribe.

Favorites and Substitutes for our Region

I loved these plants and want to plunk them into my landscape if possible. But I know my home climate is not suitable. I can, however, achieve a similar look using plants native and/or adaptable to our area, which is easier for me and better for pollinators and wildlife.

Echium vulgare was a favorite of mine, spotted on the top of Grand Bé island. Its upright purple spike reminded me of Liatris of the prairie, but their iridescent quality and bloom shape set it apart. Echium amoneum, known as red feathers, is a related species and grows extremely well in our dry, limey soil. The adorable and dainty yellow Diplotaxis I saw growing along the sidewalks could be replicated with our native Coreopsis palmata. Rock Samphire (Crithmum maritimum) looked so similar to garden sedum in shape and habit, which thrives in our area. All of these plants will be available at our spring FloraKansas event, so I will have my chance to recreate, in a small way, the shapes and textures of this wonderful place.

Unsolved Mystery

This wonderful silvery shrub seen above is still a mystery to me. I can’t pin it down, and neither can my plant identification apps! It was planted in well maintained hedges as well as growing in small town square gardens and bordering rock walls. Possibly in the mint family based on its squarish stems and resemblance to the annual plant known as dusty miller. Perhaps it belongs in the Scenicio genus? Those yellow flowers make me think yes, but I want to hear what you all think it is! Shoot us an email if you have any clues. In the meantime, I will use species like Perovskia atriplicifolia (Russian sage), Stachys byzantina (lambs ear) and our native Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) to mimic that wonderful silver tone in my own garden.

We spent hours walking those chilly beaches, enjoying all the fascinating things that wash up with each new wave.

Gardens of France: Chateau de Chenonceau

Refined, elegant, and dare I say…lady-like? The castle and gardens of Chenonceau are truly a must-see in the Loire Valley. It is known as the ladies castle because of its many famous female inhabitants, as well as the fact that its construction and upkeep was overseen by women. With formal gardens surrounding it on two sides, and an extensive estate with woods, hedge maze, vegetable plot, and a medicinal herb garden, one could easily spent the entire day here. This is one of my favorite gardens of France, but sadly we only had a few hours to admire the grounds and take a few notes on the exquisite landscape designs!

view of Diane de Poiteirs garden and Chateau de Chenonceau
View of Chenonceau from Diane de Poitiers garden, from Wikimedia

A Brief History

Owned by the monarchy, mistresses, government financiers, and chocolatiers, this property has a fascinating history. Straddling the river Cher, it was used as a military hospital in WWI and a secret escape corridor in WWII. But none of its history defined it as much as the rivalry between Catherine and Diane. Catherine Medici was the wife of King Henry II, Diane was his mistress. These women had a famous feud with a lasting imprint on the castle and grounds. Henry gifted the Chateau de Chenonceau to Diane, much to Catherine’s chagrin. Once Henry died, Catherine promptly took the castle back and sent Diane packing. Among the many renovations and additions each lady made, the gardens stand as an obvious example of their contrasting styles and personalities.

View of Chenonceau from the Medici garden.
Hermann Luyken, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Dueling Gardens

On one side of the entrance to the chateau stands the garden of Catherine de Poitiers, and on the other side the rebuttle: the garden of Catherine Medici. Both gardens are built on platforms above the banks of the river banks, and both exhibit the elegant features popular in the 16th century:

  • long straight gravel pathways (French parterre style)
  • small sections of very short shorn lawn separated by low hedges
  • topiary and ball-shaped shrubs
  • all paths leading to a central fountain or pool
Diane de Poitiers garden, one of the famous gardens of France
Garden of Diane de Poitiers, complete with its dwarf fruit trees and carefully manicured scroll pattern made of Santolina.

But they are unique in tone. The Medici garden is orderly, if slightly less symmetrical than Diane’s. It contains more squares rectangles while the Poitier garden is laid out in triangles. Catherine’s garden is modest in size, while Diane’s stretches on lavishly. But, many agree that the Medici garden has the best view of the Chateau, perhaps purposely planned that way due to her great affection and attachment to the residence. The memorable feature in the Garden of Diane de Poitier are the “santolina swirls”: grey santolina, trimmed very low, in delicate scroll patterns throughout the innermost lawns. Diane’s garden is grand, showy, and sprawling, while Catherine’s is elegant and slightly understated. While Diane’s has a flashy fountain in the middle, Catherine’s simply has a reflecting pool.

Catherine Medici's garden at Chenonceau (taken in October 2023), one of the famous gardens of France
The Garden of Catherine Medici, with its dark leaves sweet potato vine and the ornamental grasses (Pennisetum?) bursting upwards.

Formality with Flair

While formal gardens are not my particular taste, I really enjoyed the way these gardeners are playing with color palette. Dark leaf ipomea constrasts with silver santolia and lavender. The grasses rush upwards out of the other ground-hugging foliage like fireworks (which interestingly enough, were used for the first time in France at this very location). Rather than feeling stuffy and boring, the contrast of dark and light keeps it interesting and the winding shapes lead your eye in unexpected directions. On Diane’s side of things, a strict adherence to shades in purple, pink and whites keeps an otherwise very thick, diverse beds looking intentional.

A garden border of hibiscus, salvia, and castor plants in the colors purple, pink and burgundy. Plants range from 3ft to 6ft high, and the chancellory building is in the background.
Pinks, purples, and the burgundy of the caster bean leaves all blend together to create an almost monochrome landscape design.
A low hedge in the vegetable garden area, made of what I believe to be apple trees, in the espalier style.

Grandness, Scale, and Planning for the Future

the long entryway lined with plane trees (sycamore) that leads to Chateau de Chenonceau. This is a very memorable scene from one of the most famous gardens of France.
Chris enjoying the walk to the chateau, lined with massive plane trees.

One of the most memorable moments of Chenonceau is the tree lined entryway. It stretches on for the entire stately avenue and perfectly framing the castle up ahead. The property also has a hedge maze made of yew bushes, as well as a great collection of specialty trees. These types of displays only work with patience. For these grand landscapes to take shape, it takes more than just a growing season. Years, and in some cases, centuries of growth have to be accounted for. So if you have big plans for your own property, perhaps a tree lined driveway of your own or a prairie reconstruction, remember not to be intimidated by big plans! Start now to create something truly spectacular and awe-inspiring for future generations.

A mass planting of Hydrangea along the fence of the vegetable garden and maintenance area. Even the mundane and functional spaces are beautifully kept!

You don’t have to go all the way to France to experience excellent landscape design – implement these lessons into your own garden and get that royal touch of elegance! Keeping a simple color palette, use clean lines and repeating geometric patterns to achieve a timeless aesthetic. And for further inspiration, take a virtual tour of Chenonceau here. There are only a few more posts left in our gardens of France series, so stay tuned!

Believing in Plants

With every new year comes a renewed sense of optimism about a whole host of things like fitness and health, relationships with loved ones and friends, your occupation, and maybe your garden. In the book The Earth is Enough by Harry Middleton, there is a paragraph that resonated with me, as a horticulturist and a lover of plants, about the struggles of gardening, but also the hope we have in plants. Here it is:

Emerson (one of the old men) believed in plants, though he never completely trusted them. After all, nothing could turn on a man with such cold, merciless indifference as a plant. A curious blight, a virulent plague, a sudden storm, an unyielding march of insects could sour a man’s agricultural fortunes with woeful abruptness, lance his emotions, eviscerate his always desperate accounts.

Harry Middleton

Gardeners need to be eternal optimists. We garden hoping to get something from our efforts, be it a vegetable to eat, beauty to enjoy or shade to rest in. Sometimes that happens but sometimes we fail. As we approach spring (yes, it is coming) and we start thinking about our own native plant gardens, I know that there will be holes to fill in our landscapes because of struggling or underperforming plants. We try to make perfect plant choices for our landscapes, but we are not always successful. Plants have so much to offer to us and the environment around us. Just because there are a few plants that succumb to our harsh climate or pests doesn’t mean we stop planting and believing in plants.

In particular, I believe in plants that are native to Kansas, because they:

  • beautify the landscape – with careful design, your garden can have flowers year round
  • nurture pollinators and other wildlife
  • provide food and shelter for birds, hummingbirds, butterflies, and other pollinators
  • save water
  • thrive in our local climate if properly matched to a site
  • are adapted to our natural cycles, responding to cool, wet winters with lush growth and slowing down during the hot, dry summers
  • prefer our soils or can grow in just about any soil type
  • do well in our native soils and do not require soil amendments or fertilizers
  • reduce pesticide use
  • typically have fewer pest problems than non-natives because they have co-evolved with native insects (unless there is a new introduced predator or pest)
  • minimize your carbon footprint
  • reduce maintenance over time in a well-designed garden
  • can easily be started with smaller sized plants, saving on installation costs
  • cool the environment
  • play an active role in the water cycle, adding cooling moisture to the atmosphere
  • harmonize with diverse garden styles
  • create a sense of place within our prairie state
Gray-headed coneflower with Bearer of the Ammonite by Paul Friesen. Photo Courtesy of Jen LeFevre

Just Keep Planting

Some plants are going to let us down. Or maybe we let them down by trying them in an ill-suited location in the first place. Whatever the case may be, keep believing in plants. They are good for you and the environment. Try to find joy in the beauty around you even though it is not always perfect or ideal.

Each and every year, we struggle with plants here at the Arboretum just like you do. But we are rewarded by our imperfect efforts time and time again. The journey of tending a garden is not an easy, straight line. It is a winding road of highs and lows. Keep believing in plants anyway.

Kansas Shelterbelts

Recently I met a woman walking her dogs in the new woodland path through our hedgerow. She expressed admiration for the long lived hedge trees here, and was concerned that so many farmers are bulldozing their shelterbelts and reclaiming the acres for farming. She asked if we knew of any preservation effort to prevent them from becoming relics of the past. This led me down a rabbit hole into shelterbelt history. I hoped to understand more about why they were planted and what purpose they serve today. Are they actually good for our native wildlife? Are they still agriculturally and ecologically relevant?

The short answer is this: Hedgerows of good quality, and relatively few invasive species, can benefit the soil, provide good habitat, and are a part of the region’s cultural history. But “trees for the sake of trees” is not a helpful philosophy for conserving the Great Plains ecosystem, evermore imperiled by encroachment of woody species.

The long answer? It’s complicated.

Early Tree Planting

In the early 1800s, Kansas had few trees. As European settlements encroached on the Great Plains, newcomers planted shelterbelts for wind protection and privacy around new homesteads. They were useful for delineating property boundaries, keeping livestock contained, and side trimming for firewood. Later on, Franklin D. Roosevelt encouraged the planting of shelterbelts and hedges during the dustbowl years to curb erosion. Of course, as he was from the east coast, he may not have understood that planting millions of trees on grasslands with little rainfall and frequent fires might not be the best solution. Modern ecology has taught us a few things! With the advent of cheap barbed wire for fencing and more erosion-conscious farming practices in place, the need for such frequent tree lines decreased.

What’s in a Kansas Hedgerow?

“Hedge apples” litter the arboretum grounds every year. Bigger than a grapefruit, watch your head(!) as these fall from female Maclura pomifera trees.

The history of the hedge tree, or osage orange species, is inextricably tied to Kansas. These trees are tough and hardy, thorny enough to deter livestock and dense enough to make excellent firewood. But the ‘hedges’ of Kansas are not exclusively made up of osage orange trees. You may find native oaks, elms, hackberry, mulberry, and cedars in a rural shelterbelt, as well as a fair number of problematic and invasive species such as Siberian elm, bush honeysuckle, ornamental pear, and Russian olive.

Planting Trees in the Plains

Willa Cather Memorial Prairie near Red Cloud, NE.

For at least a hundred years we’ve been hearing the same message: trees good, open space bad. The European settlers of the Great Plains, with their wagons headed west, knew trees meant cooking fuel and housing material. At the founding of Arbor day in 1872 planting trees became a patriotic mission and civic duty. In recent years we have seen countless campaigns to save the trees and “plant a tree with every purchase”. But the Great Plains ecosystem relies on all that open space. For example, only one tree per acre is enough to limit the nesting success of the greater prairie chicken. While planting trees in forested areas is much needed, planting them in grasslands and calling it conservation may be misguided. We know that grassland bird species are in steep decline, and that too many woody species on the prairie can lead to a low water table and more volatile wildfires. Grasslands are just as ecologically important, and imperiled, as forests. It is long past time to update the messaging and match that zeal for nature conservation with geographically appropriate solutions.

Over and over, I watch people buy small parcels of prairie and immediately plant trees around the borders. Grassland acreages invaded by eastern red cedars or other trees are often appraised at a higher real estate value than uninvaded grasslands because of their ‘recreation value’.  People who write angry letters about trees being cleared to make way for a shopping center don’t bat an eye when a prairie is plowed under or allowed to be overtaken by Siberian elms. 

Chris Helzer, The Prairie Ecologist The Darker Side of Tree Planting in the Great Plains

To Tree, or Not to Tree? That is the Question

In light of all this, do we really need these well-intended hedgerows disrupting the open spaces of the grasslands? That very much depends on the location, condition, and composition of each hedgerow.

Is the row of trees protecting a home from those rowdy prairie winds? Is it grown specifically for sustainable collection of firewood or does it grow out of control year by year, encroaching on neighboring grasslands? Is it located on a Century Farm or in an important historic area?

Does that stand of trees have native species like oak, walnut, persimmon, and pawpaw or is it mainly non-native invasives spreading their seed into nearby prairies? Is it providing erosion control for a farmed field? Would a restoration of native prairie grasses do just as good a job at holding the soil? Do the trees provide habitat to native birds or is it simply encouraging predator birds to move farther west?

Thinking about these questions can help you decide what trees on your own lands deserve protection and conservation, and which can be safely removed.

The Earth Is Enough

The start of the new year is a great time to make changes in your life and dedicate yourself to the things you value most. In 2024, I have a few simple resolutions that involve health, travel, and nature.  Some of these adjustments in my life will improve my overall health and enjoyment of the world around me. Here are a few thoughts I have as we start a new year. 

LOOK UP

Over Christmas break, I read the book The Earth Is Enough: Growing Up in a World of Flyfishing, Trout & Old Men by Harry Middleton.  I chose this book because it was about fly fishing, a hobby I have taken up in the past few years. However, this book didn’t dwell on fly fishing, but more on the experiences of being outside in the environment. The reader was able to connect with the sights, sounds, and feelings of being outdoors. 

Too often lately, I have hurried through my times in nature and the beauty around me has been missed or taken for granted. The outdoors is a complex, diverse and beautiful place with many lessons to teach us. As you walk, be intentional about connecting with your surroundings. I am convinced I/you will be healthier and happier by just pausing for a few moments in our busy lives to look around. Being outdoors can be very healing. 

Liatris pycnostachya, or prairie blazing star

Take a respite from our materialistic culture

This book made me think about the culture in which we live. We are driven to always want more stuff, which always leaves us hollow and wanting more. In The Earth is Enough, I appreciate the observations the characters made of their natural surroundings as they pondered all that truly matters in life. The eye of the trout looking at you as you release it back in the dark pool. Waiting on the return of the migrating geese marking the passage of time. These are simple but important interactions that help refocus our thoughts. These connections with nature, as well as the relationships we have with loved ones, can bring us joy and happiness. 

Find your Why

Without a compelling reason or motivation to make the changes we want, resolutions fail. Why do I need to lose a few pounds? Why do I need to stop and smell the roses, so to speak? What do I need to focus on at work to be more productive? Sure, it isn’t easy to stay focused, but when I keep going back to my why, I find my motivation again. Each of our whys will be different, but what they have in common is that they help us continue moving forward with purpose.

Creating habitat for pollinators and other wildlife could be a why worth pursuing in the new year.

These are just a few thoughts I have had over the past few weeks.  I know these resolutions are nothing earth shattering, but they are important to me right now. A little more time outdoors away from television or my phone is not a bad thing. Self-care has never been more important. 

Take care of yourself, of others and the natural world around us. Here is to a happier and healthier 2024.

Gardens of France: Nantes

Nantes is not one of the more famous locations in France. It has a major port and lots of commerce, and vacationers often pass it up in favor of all the other more scenic cities. But it is full of history, has a walkable city center, excellent public transport, and LOTS of greenspace. It is known as the city of 100 parks, with ample access to free and beautifully maintained gardens and greenways. I got to enjoy several of these places on our three-day stay while visiting friends.

Japanese Garden

In the middle of Nantes is the river Erdre, and in the river there is an island, and on this island is the Jardin Japonais. The island was made with the mud removed from the river in an 1800s canal project, and though it had many uses through the years, today it is home to cherry trees, rhododendrons, and bamboo. Winding paths lead to tranquil ponds, a small waterfall, and pagoda-style architecture. The principles of Japanese gardening are very different from those of classical European styles. These principles include asymmetry, concealment, miniaturization, and “borrowed” scenery, and they were all on great display on this little island.

Jardin Extraordinaire

Set inside an abandoned quarry, this garden is bordered by a river on one side and steep granite cliffs on the other. Because of these south facing cliffs catching the sunlight, the garden stays several degrees warmer, on average, than the surrounding area. A perfect microclimate for exotic plants like palms, hibiscus, and banana trees! These tropicals intermingle with ornamental grasses as well as sycamore trees. The garden is luxurious and bizarre, like something out of a storybook. Nantes happens to be the birthplace of author Jules Verne and there are many elements of this city that feel influenced by his eccentric and active imagination. Or perhaps the city influenced Verne!

Jardin des Plantes de Nantes

Just like in the US, almost every major city has a Jardin des Plantes, or botanical garden, to explore. Nantes had a lovely and unique collection to explore and we had a relaxing stroll through their greenhouses devoted to tropicals, cactus, orchids, and more. The park stretched on through coniferous forest plantings and opened onto placid duck ponds and lush lawns. The horticulturists there even created grass covered mounds and sculpted them into sleeping figures. Maybe I need to try this at the Arboretum!

A wetland exhibit featured a stunning display of Sarracenia species. These are carnivorous bog plants that trap and digest flies in their flutes. Commonly known as pitcher plants, they are native to North America but are grown ornamentally around the world.

By far the best part of my visit to Nantes was getting to see my host family again. After so many years apart, we had such fun catching up. They were razzing me heartily about my mediocre French pronunciation skills, just like old times!

Nantes is truly an excellent city (maybe the best in France, according to City Monitor) and definitely one to visit if you love gardens, as most are free to enter and can be easily reached by public transit or pedestrian walkways. As we only visited a few of the one hundred parks, I hope to visit again soon and see many more!

Walk Bike or Roll? Accessibility at the Arboretum

Providing accessibility to the simple beauty of the Kansas landscape was central to our founders’ vision for the Dyck Arboretum of the Plains. Harold and Evie Dyck intended for the Arboretum to be a garden for the community of Hesston and the region. They understood that being in nature heals us. Even as they struggled with health concerns in their own lives, they prioritized walking or rolling around the Arboretum pond on a regular basis.

Former Arboretum Director Jim Locklear (left) shows former board member Nelson Kilmer (center) and founders Harold (hidden) and Elva Mae Dyck (right) one of the lower water accessible crossings in 1989.

I recently attended an event hosted by the Kansas Department of Transportation’s Active Transportation Office. The Walk Bike Roll Kansas Active Transportation Summit, held in McPherson in September 2023, was designed to “provide opportunities for attendees to learn from experts in the field, connect with Kansans from across the state, and leave with practical actions for improving walking, biking, and rolling.”

At that event, I learned about the progress being made in communities across the state of Kansas to improve accessibility for those who walk, bike or roll, called “Vulnerable Road Users (VRUs)” in the transportation industry.

At the event, I ran into the folks from the Healthy Harvey Coalition. We chatted about some of the successes and challenges regarding accessible paths throughout the county and agreed that there is much work yet to be done in our region. (Check them out if you live in Harvey County and would like to support progress in the direction of better paths for those who walk, bike or roll!)

The new path network in the Prairie Window Project connects to existing paths on Schowalter Villa property, as well as to the main Arboretum path.

The Arboretum is making a contribution to those efforts for increased accessibility this year as well. Our Prairie Window Project is becoming more accessible to a wider audience this fall. Thanks to a generous donation, we are paving the existing network of gravel paths that weave through our prairie reconstruction. We look forward to welcoming visitors to utilize this path, whether it’s to reach their daily step goal, to get from point A to point B, or to take time for relaxation and reconnection with nature.

Our Hesston neighbors seem to be embracing this new pathway almost faster than the project can be completed. In particular, our friends at Schowalter Villa, who frequently visit both our pond as well as the “Prairie Lakes” pond, will have a direct connection between these two destinations.

Another new accessible spot to enjoy: the Karen Hahn memorial bench has room for those who roll to park next to it. Those who sit here can enjoy a view of the Arboretum pond in one direction and the Prairie Window Project in the other.

Although it does not replicate the experience of standing in the middle of a remnant prairie, the Prairie Window Project does, as the name suggests, act as a window to an endangered ecosystem. Be it through intentional or passive engagement, the increased accessibility of these paths will help facilitate the deepening of our community’s relationship with the plants, animals and insects that reside in this developing prairie.

Wonderful Autumn

This time of year a person interested in plants can get very tired and rundown.  I certainly have been dragging.  The relentless heat and drought has many plants stressed and prematurely going dormant.  We have been watering as we can but we can’t water everything.  As we wait for rain and hope that our little plants can hang on, there is still beauty happening all around us. 

I was reminded of this last week as we hosted several groups of fifth graders.  We stopped at some fall blooming asters including purple New England asters that were teaming with hundreds of different pollinators.  Monarchs were passing through too and they added to the excitement at what they were experiencing from this landscape.  These pollinators were eager to find nectar in this created habitat.  It reminded me anew why landscaping with native plants is so important. These children were amazed at what they saw. Their awe and wonder at the diversity of pollinators really impacted me. Sometimes we need to see things from the eyes of children.  

We like the aesthetics these landscapes provide for our homes, and businesses, but these patchwork habitats are needed and sought out by many different pollinators.  Here are some eye candy for you to enjoy. 

Bordered patches are commonly found throughout the southwest US and Northern Mexico, but can be found in Kansas through late fall.

Our landscapes can be frustrating and troublesome at times. These landscape can also be therapeutic and healing. Maybe you need to step back like I did this past week and take in the simple beauty all around us. Even though you may be suffering from landscape maintenance fatigue, you are doing something vitally important both for you and the wildlife that is attracted to you prairie garden.  Don’t lose heart. 

Monarchs congregating in the Arboretum Amphitheater today. Hundreds of them. This was just one branch. WOW!!

On Weeding: Process over Perfection

My mom was serious about weed pulling. Especially after she retired, one could often find her out in her yard pulling weeds for hours at a time. Since I didn’t consider myself much of a gardener at the time, I didn’t really understand why she would spend so much time on what seemed, to me, to be a very mundane and laborious task.

It wasn’t until she entered the later stages of a terminal illness that I understood what a solace it was for her, a way to feel a sense of control over something, however small or futile it may have seemed to others.

Now that I have begun to develop a meaningful relationship with my yard, I find myself starting to “channel my inner Mom”. I have a semi-regular routine of going out to my front lawn to pull weeds from an ever-expanding patch of buffalo grass. In this practice, I have learned that weeding is an act of focused intention. And though it is also an act of exerting control over the land, if paired with an intention to learn from and respond to the plants themselves, this control can be moderated by care.

This weeding routine began two years ago, when I noticed a few buffalograss seedheads poking up through our polyculture lawn. Five or six years prior, we had felled an aged maple tree. Since then, the area in front of our house has formed a natural matrix of dandelions, clover, bermudagrass, foxtail and bindweed. But apparently, at some point there had been some buffalo grass, which was now emerging again. I wanted more of it and less of those other things.

I felt overwhelmed by the idea of using chemicals to kill the existing vegetation in order to have a clean slate for seeding. Instead, inspired by long-time Arboretum volunteer and mentor Lorna Harder, I began mimicking her strategy of pulling the undesired plants to give the buffalo grass a chance to propagate.

Most people probably wouldn’t choose this strategy for establishing a lawn. Whether it’s because of other demands on their time or a personal preference, most will opt for a more straight-forward approach with a predictable timeline, as recommended by my colleague Scott, or the Kansas State University Turf Management folks. I have decided that for me, it’s more about the process than the product. I consider weeding a part of my self-care routine, one that also benefits the ecosystem of my yard. Each year, as I take stock of how much ground was covered (pun intended), I am motivated to choose which area I’d like to work on next.

If this type of approach to gardening appeals to you as well, but feels too daunting, I would like to offer some encouragement that I recently received from one of our members. Try not to focus on all there is still left to do. Remember to look at all the progress you have already made.

Something to ponder while I continue my daily weeding.

My spouse Jon clears bermudagrass and other vegetation from the perimeter of a seeded patch of buffalo grass in our back yard. As with the front, this area had been heavily shaded by a large tree and needed a cover crop.