Common Yarrow might be common, but it’s still a worthy plant for Colorado gardens. Plants form spreading clumps of dark green, finely cut leaves about one foot tall. Flat-topped clusters of tiny flowers that rise above the greenery provide landing places for butterflies, which are attracted in large numbers. Blooms may be white, pale to golden yellow, or various pastel shades; ‘Paprika’ is a cultivar with red flowers the color of their namesake.
Chico Basin Ranch is a great place to bird all year round, but it is a must-see during spring migration. It’s easily worth the 45 minute drive from Colorado Springs, and the $15 daily access fee (annual passes are also available).
What makes this such a great spot?
A look at a map of Colorado shows why birds and birders love Chico Basin. Straddling the El Paso/Pueblo county line, the ranch attracts species found in the southeast corner of Colorado as well as those more that live in the north and west. Strategically situated between miles of arid, short-grass prairie on one side, and more miles of arid short-grass prairie on the other, the year-round ponds and green trees are a welcome rest stop for tired and thirsty migrating birds.
At last! After a long winter wait, it’s finally time to get outside, crumble some soil in our fingers, and dig in. Yes, it’s finally time to plant our vegetable gardens—or at least the first crops. While we need to wait a bit longer for frost-tender plants, there are many cool season vegetables that can handle cold nights and a bit of frost. Here are some crops that you can transplant or direct seed into the garden right now.
There are three types of peas, and this is a great time to plant all of them. They prefer cool weather, and need to mature before the heat of summer stunts their growth. Select varieties that mature quickly. Most grow on dwarf vines, two to three feet tall. They will need some support—try some chicken wire or netting stretched along a fence or between two posts.
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.
Robins are often considered harbingers of spring, and in some places they are, but here in Colorado they hang out year round. In fact, on the 2006 Christmas Bird Count, in the middle of a blizzard—with the thermometer registering a whopping 6 degrees—we tallied over 200 American Robins in our sector alone… and those were just the ones we could see in white-out conditions.
What spring actually brings is singing robins. For some reason, they have no sense of decent timing, and will start in at 4 am with their cheerful cheery-o, cheery-o. The last thing I feel at that hour is cheery.
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.
