photos of plants
We all want to plant our veggie gardens now, but winter hasn’t quite let go of the Rockies. While last week was in the 60s, it’s snowing as I write this, and snow and frost are distinct possibilities for several more weeks.
This is the time of year when we suffer most from greenhouse envy. Yet, for a minimal amount of money, time and effort, you can build a mini-greenhouse right over your garden beds. Here’s how I went about it.
I heard this the other day and thought it was funny enough to bear repeating. I hope I don’t offend any Italians—that surely isn’t my intent! I would love to give credit to the person who write this, but I have no idea who that might be.
An old Italian lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard.
His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:
Dear Vincent,
I am feeling pretty sad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.
Love, Papa
Warm sun beckoned me into the garden. The aroma of wet, decaying leaves mingled with the earth scent of garden loam, filling my senses as I pulled back the mulch that had protected my planting beds all winter. It was one of those breath-taking days in early spring when you finally believe that winter might be over.
I was anxious to get started, but the forecast still called for freezing nights, with a chance of snow later in the week. I stared at the empty soil… and that’s when I noticed the seedlings. Amazingly, tiny green shoots were pushing out of the ground, even where snow lingered in the shade. What could be germinating now? Two of my favorite plants!
I’m a sucker for anything that blooms blue, and bachelor buttons are undeniably blue. There’s even a shade of blue named after their alternate, and perhaps more familiar, name—cornflower blue. Although white and pink varieties are also available, they don’t interest me in the slightest.
Most of us are familiar with the same limited assortment of plants—junipers and spirea, oaks and maples, pines, petunias and geraniums. Take a drive anywhere along the Front Range and notice the landscaping. Maybe a dozen plants are repeated over and over, neighborhood to neighborhood. Especially in winter, when annuals are dead and perennials are dormant, the basic theme seems to be rocks, lawn, and junipers. I call it “zero-scaping.”
We live in an area with limited water supplies. Trying to grow the same plants as places with ample rainfall just doesn’t make sense. And there’s really no reason to do so. There are plenty of beautiful, stalwart species that thrive in our climate. They’re a lot more interesting than junipers and rocks. All we need is some inspiration.
One of my favorite places to learn about new plants is at the Xeriscape Demonstration Garden, owned by Colorado Springs Utilities (CSU). Located at CSU’s Conservation and Environmental Center (2855 Mesa Road), the gardens occupy several acres in a beautiful setting overlooking the Garden of the Gods.
Most gardeners are all too familiar with bindweed, a member of the morning glory family. With its white to pink vase-shaped flowers and elongated green leaves, it spreads its twisting vines across areas of disturbed soil, such as vegetable gardens and flower beds. The more the gardener tries to pull it out, the more it spreads. Reproduction is by seed, which can remain viable in the soil for up to 50 years, and creeping rhizomes, which may extend up to 6 feet from the mother plant.
If that doesn’t scare you, consider that established plants have a taproot that can extend 20 feet below the soil surface, and lateral roots that grow 30 feet long! This root system stores enough food to keep the plant alive for three years, even if the area above it is paved over. Repeated applications of herbicides may not kill those roots. Once an area is covered by bindweed, it is almost impossible for native plants (or anything else) to become established.
“My zucchini plants produce flowers, but no squash. Why?”
“Every year my lettuce gets bitter, then blooms. How can I keep it from bolting?”
“I set out my broccoli two weeks before the last frost, when the books tell us to, but it never got big, and it only produced tiny one-inch heads. What did I do wrong?”
“I want to be a better veggie gardener. What book should I read?”
I’d just given a two hour talk on high altitude vegetable gardening, and a crowd of people surrounded me, anxious to ask questions.
Happily, I knew the answers to all those questions. That’s because I’ve read The Book of Garden Secrets. It’s the most helpful book on vegetable gardening I’ve ever read. Since I’ve read dozens of books on growing veggies, this is high praise indeed.
Appearance
After months of dreary landscapes, Aubrieta’s vibrant purple flowers bring welcome color to the April garden. The diminutive blossoms have four petals arranged in a cross, with a clump of yellow stamens in the center. In early spring, they bloom enthusiastically, completely hiding the low growing mats of evergreen foliage. The plants only reach six to twelve inches tall but they can extend as far as two to three feet wide.
With the weather swinging wildly between winter storms and balmy sunny days, it must be springtime in the Rockies. The snow reminds us that it’s much too early to plant, but the warm days in between beckon us outside. What’s an antsy gardener to do? Happily, there are things you can do to prepare for the gardening season. Unhappily, one of the most important chores is weed control.
Daffodils and tulips are sending up leaves, perennials have tiny, tentative shoots, grass has a green tinge—and weeds are exploding out of the ground. This is the time to gain the upper hand.
If you’re having trouble getting some of your seeds to germinate, it may be that you’re being too nice to them. Armed with tough defenses against all that nature can throw at them, some seeds refuse to grow unless they’re forced to. This year, consider seed assault and battery, followed by water torture. Here’s how to abuse your seeds.
The coat of some seeds is very hard and tough. Normally, this protects the seed and ensures that conditions for germination are favorable. In nature, seeds may pass through the digestive tract of a bird or animal, or be burned in a fire. A hard seed coat gives these seeds a longer storage life as well.
Since you’re unlikely to eat or roast your seeds, you need to provide another way for air and water to reach the tiny embryo inside that armored seed coat. Using chemical or mechanical means to create a weak spot or crack in the seed coat is called “scarification.”
There are aliens among us. They didn’t come from outer space. Instead, they invaded our country from their native lands around the world. Some hitchhiked in bales of hay or on unsuspecting travelers. Others were brought here deliberately, perhaps for their beauty or stalwart endurance in the face of adversity.
Once here, they took advantage of our hospitality and spread far beyond their original destination. These invaders are plants: grasses, flowers, even trees that are taking over our country. It’s time we fight back.
When aggressive plants arrive in a new environment, they upset the delicate ecological balance that sustains birds and other wildlife. We call them “noxious weeds” because they tend to take over the landscape, are difficult to control, and out-compete more useful natives. They are frequently useless as wildlife forage or shelter, while replacing plants on which wild creatures depend.
Mountain Plover 