If you’ve ever pulled out the lettuce and left the chickweed, you’re in good company. Last week I admitted my failure to recognize ragweed, one of the most irritating plants in my yard (especially to my nose!). It takes practice to recognize plants in their infancy. After all, how much do you look like your newborn photos?
If you missed last week’s quiz, you can try your hand at some seedling ID by clicking here. If you’re ready for the answers, keep reading.
Everything is growing. Buds are bursting, early flowers are in bloom, and millions of tiny seeds are breaking through the soil into eager growth. It’s a wonderful time of year, and a busy one for gardeners. As we sow seeds and pull weeds, the question arises—which is which? Should we dig out that clump of green, or is it a desirable plant?
This is especially difficult if it’s a new yard, and this is our first chance to see what’s growing in it. Let me tell you a short story illustrating my gardening ineptitude.
Finally, manzanitas for Colorado gardeners! When we first moved to Colorado, back in 1993, I wanted to add some manzanitas to our ponderosa forest landscape, but the cultivars available weren’t deemed hardy enough for our 7000 foot elevation. I gave up and settled for Mahonia—not at all the same thing, but about the only broad-leafed evergreen I could get to grow in my yard.
Colorado—the word means “red” in Spanish. And Colorado’s soils are often reddish, due to the abundance of oxidized iron. Here in Colorado Springs, Garden of the Gods (right) attracts visitors with bright orange sandstone monoliths. Further north, Red Rocks Park and Amphitheatre is part of the same formation. Our well water has so much iron in it that our white laundry turned pink—we had to install an iron-removal component to our water system.
So, with all this iron present in our soils, why do so many plants here suffer from a deficiency?
When it comes planting a spring flowering tree, most Colorado gardeners immediately think of crabapples. Wildly popular all along the Front Range, crabs deserve their stellar reputation. However, they aren’t the only flowering tree that thrive in our harsh environment. There might even be a better choice! Consider their close relative, the Hawthorn.
Many people talk to their plants. Whether or not it makes a difference, we chatter on about the weather, how nice the plant is looking, perhaps how shiny a leaf or pretty a flower. Of course, the plants don’t really hold up their end of the conversation. I’ve heard nary a peep from my peony, nor a single ahem from my Agastache. Even if they could talk, I doubt we’d find the conversation stimulating. After all, plants don’t have brains. But a lack of brain and vocal cords doesn’t stop plants from communicating. We just have to learn their language.
When you think of flowers, you might imagine a red rose, yellow daffodil, or purple iris. But how about green? On March 17 we will celebrate Saint Patrick with green eggs, green beer, and parades. Being a gardener (and in honor of an Irish ancestor), I want flowers to get equal time.
You’re cruising through one of our national parks when you come across a traffic jam. Cars are pulled to the side, their occupants pointing at… something. More people are darting between vehicles, cameras in hand. What in the world has caught their attention? Bears? Elk?
No, it’s a single female mule deer.
There are lots of reasons to photograph birds. For one, it’s lots of fun (although all-too-often frustrating as well). Photos can provide a record of birds you’ve seen, especially if, like me, you start second-guessing your best sightings the minute the bird flies away. They provide proof to ebird and records committees that your rarity was indeed what you thought it was.
Perhaps you’re birding in an unfamiliar location. You may not immediately recognize all the birds you see, and photos might allow you to ID some species later, when you’re not in a hurry.
Photos can also be artistic. Everyone can be creative—it’s part of our DNA—and photography makes a wonderful creative outlet.
The previous garden jargon quiz was so much fun, we’re doing it again. In case you missed the explanation last time, here it is again. (If you remember the previous quiz, just skip ahead.)
How well do you know your gardening terms? As with most groups of people with a specific hobby or occupation, those who garden have a specialized vocabulary—our garden jargon. We often use words that other people might not understand—or will they?
I’ve taken a series of gardening terms that have other meanings not related to gardening. For example, a bed can be a place we sleep—or a landscaped area, often filled with flowers.
Mountain Plover 