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From left to right: turnips, arugula, spinach, and
lettuce have a good start in the cool weather.
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Fall roundup in the landscape
by Ginny Stibolt
Gardening is an art, not a science. No matter what others
promise, Mother Nature and our own nature may produce great successes and dramatic
failures in our landscapes. Fall is the traditional time for gardeners to evaluate the good and evil in
their gardens as part of planning for next
year. If we pause to learn from the some of the lessons that Mother
Nature throws at us, maybe each year we'll enjoy more success than failure.
Here's an
analysis of some of our projects—I wrote about some of them in previous
columns and I thought you might be curious to see what happened.
In the edible garden
Right now in late November, our winter vegetables are doing well. I
planted my
lettuce, spinach, arugula, and turnips the first week in October. As promised,
the lettuce and arugula sprouted in three days. The turnips were
next and finally, the spinach made an appearance—the spinach is still not nearly
as robust as any of the others, as you can see in the photo above.
First, I used
a different strategy this time for planting seeds directly in the
ground. I added good compost to the soil, made short rows facing
west to take full advantage of the slanting winter sunlight, and lined each row with an inch or more of sterile topsoil that I
bought. Then I sowed the seeds and covered them with more of the
store-bought soil. Finally, I mulched between the rows with pine
needles. So far—knock on wood chips—very few weeds have sprouted.
I just planted another winter crop—onions. There are three short rows at the front of the herb garden. One row is planted for regular onions where the onion sets are three inches apart with the tops just showing at the surface.
The other two rows, planted for greens, are closer together and two
inches below the surface. Because the store-bought soil worked so well
for the seeds, I used the same technique for the onions. I'll keep you
posted.
I wrote about our tomatoes earlier, and was hopeful that
our careful selection of only indeterminate varieties would ensure a
continuous yield throughout the season. We had a great crop in May and
June; we gave away lots
of them to neighbors, especially to our neighbor with horses who allows us to
take their composted manure. The plants didn't last any longer than
the previous year. The leaves started to die and eventually all the plants just shriveled away. Some kind of wilt, a type of fungus, got to
them in the heat. Next year, we'll try some varieties particularly
bred for Florida's heat and wilt. More research is needed.
The bell peppers (Capsicum
spp) on the other hand, have done very well. We planted
them at the same time as the tomatoes, and even now they continue
to produce, though the leaves are yellowed. I expect that
when we pull out these plants that we'll see that root-knot nematodes
have attacked their roots. Next year I'll look for some nematode
resistant strains to see if that makes a difference.
Rain gardens
Two years ago I built four rain
gardens on our lot for better absorption of runoff from downspouts and French
drains. The two rain gardens that I built in the woods to stop the erosion at the
ends of the French drain pipes continue to function well. The rocks
and plants have stayed in place, there has been no erosion, and the runoff
is slowed before it joins the overflow creek from our front pond to the
lake.
The rain garden I built out front near the pond at the outflow
from a French drain does a good job of absorbing the water there.
Very little of it overflows directly into the pond. I have
removed some plants and added others farther away so the basin is
larger now, and there is an uninterrupted wall of rushes, sedges,
and rain lilies (Zerphyranthus
atamasco) on the pond side. I've recently added a
dahoon holly (Ilex cassine)
on the pond side of the rush/sedge wall. I assume this
is female because it was a sucker from a berry-ladened shrub.
What I don't know is if there are any males close enough so that
it will have berries some day. I'll wait until it has flowers
and see if berries are produced. If not I'll visit my friend
with the dahoon population again and acquire a male and maybe more
females.
The most visible rain garden next to the downspout at the front
corner of the house has done very well—maybe too well. The
photograph shows what it looks like this fall. The
ferns and the blue-eyed grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium)
have continued to spread so much that you can't even see the stones
at the center. I have cut back the lawn another two feet to
enlarge this area. This spring after the rain lilies have
gone by, I'll transplant some of the ferns and blue-eyed grass to
other areas on our lot. Most of them will go to a new fern
area under the sweet gum trees (Liquidambar
styraciflua) in the triangle meadow out back.
Odds & ends
The garden next to the west-facing wall at the back of the detached garage
has undergone a couple of changes in the two and a half years we've lived
here. I've always wanted a cutting garden and this year I planted one
packet of zinnias that thrived out there with almost no care—there are
still some flowering and although the plants look ratty, I love those wild-haired
blooms. The mixed wildflowers I sowed along this wall did not perform
as well—only a few plants survived the season. I've already bought more zinnia seeds and a few others that
might do better... I'll keep you informed.
Another lavender treasure in the meadows that I didn't
mention in my Pulsating Purple article was the
elephant's foot (Elephantopus elatus). Its basal leaves,
arrayed in a circular pattern, may
remind one of an elephant's footprint. The flowers are borne on 12" to
18" stalks with only a few leaves. Each tiny tubular flower is
surrounded by three lavender toothed bracts. It was sure popular with
the butterflies, wasps, bees, and love bugs.
The saucer magnolia (Magnolia
x soulangeana) has begun to recover from the harsh treatment
of being pruned like a hedge. I extracted it from the pittosporum
hedge (Pittosporum tobira)
next to the screened porch out back two years ago. With space
to grow and with some careful pruning, it's beginning to look more
like a tree. This deciduous magnolia is a popular hybrid—its
large pink flowers make quite a showing in the spring before the
leaves fill in. It's a temperate plant, though, and it can
get confused here in northern Florida. Several flower buds
broke dormancy and popped out last week.
Earlier this fall, I planted three native hibiscus plants (Hibiscus
laevis), and now they are preparing for winter by dropping their
leaves. The tropical hibiscus (Hibiscus
rosa-sinensis) bushes are not thinking about winter and
continue to grow and bloom—beautiful, but foolish. When the
frost comes, they'll die back to the ground. I will continue to
plan for more natives in our landscape.
Fall is also the time to reflect on the year and be
thankful for our blessings. I wish you a wonderful Thanksgiving and
hope that you find some time during the rush of the upcoming holidays to reflect on successes in your
garden and to plan for an even better garden next season.
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