There Were No Fences

Florida Indian Plantain ( Arnoglossum floridanum ) seedlings Water dropwort ( Tiedemannia filiformis ) seedlings I am often asked about the best times to sow seeds. To me, it should be a relatively simple answer. I sow them when they are ripe. It might be different if I were growing plants in a greenhouse, but I sow them outside. In this situation, they are put into the same growing conditions as if they were sown in nature. Plants "know" when to let their seeds go. They germinate when the conditions are right for them to emerge. Anything else makes little ecological sense. To germinate, seeds require stratification. For some, it is a simple requirement to be put in a moist environment. Others, especially those from colder environments, require a period of cold followed by warmth. Seeds of these species will not germinate without this cold stratification. You can do this by putting them in a refrigerator first, but I grow my plants in flats outdoors before I pot

Rusty bumelia ( Sideroxylon tenax ) in bud Rusty bumelia with ripe fruit Just before our recent rain, I added two bumelias, or buckthorns, ( Sideroxylon spp.) to my new landscape. After the haws, this is one of my favorite genera and I have always had several in my wildlife-friendly yard - for good reason.  Bumelias maybe a thorny "mess" to some, but they are an invaluable wildlife magnet at all stages of the year. Some, like rusty or tough bumelia ( Sideroxylon tenax ) form an impenetrable thicket of gnarly and twisted branches while others like saffron plum ( Sideroxylon celastrina ) are more upright and "respectable", but all produce extremely good hiding cover for small songbirds. While the latter is evergreen and restricted to the warmer portions of Florida, many are tardily deciduous and provide this cover only during the growing months - but that is the time when my songbirds are nesting and need cover most. Rusty bumelia and a few of the others

Littlehip haw ( C. spathulata ) in bloom Summer haw ( C. flava ) is also called yellow haw for this reason, though the fruit comes in various shades from yellow to red Hawthorns ( Crataegus spp.) hold a special place in my gardening heart. I named my hobby nursery, Hawthorn Hill, after them and they are among the first plants I add to my landscape everywhere I've lived. I can't explain my fascination with this genus. I only know that I find them to be both beautiful and useful to a living landscape. The genus ranges across North America, Europe, and Asia - a distinctly northern hemisphere group. Within this range, there is a staggering number of species - at least 140 species depending on your taxonomist, and they give many of these experts fits when it comes to classifying them. Haws are often regionally distinct and clonal. The small differences in some clones are enough for some to declare them a unique species. The "lumpers" are constantly ci

This photo of a red-bellied woodpecker feasting on the fruits of a marlberry ( Ardisia escallonoides ) was taken by my talented photographer friend, Christina Evans, in her backyard near my former home. It graces the cover of my first book with The University of Florida Press - Native Plant Landscaping for Florida Wildlife, and it demonstrates better than any words I could write that birds change their diet with the seasons. A lot of attention has been raised recently regarding the importance of insects, especially caterpillars, but a living landscape has to feed birds (and other wildlife) throughout the year. A great many birds switch their insect-rich diet from the breeding season to fruit and other things once nesting is finished. A few years ago, I was visiting a Florida State Park in late November. The parking area was alive with bluebirds. They were feeding on the ripe fruit of flowering dogwoods that had been planted there more for their beautiful spring flowers, I suspec

Two days ago, I planted a small Bahama cassia ( Senna mexicana var. chapmanii ) in front of my new home. The plant was a gift from a dear friend and the location is a place that needs something other than the lifeless non-natives that now line it. I have never understood "foundation plantings." They are theoretically installed to increase the property value of one's home, but I would pay my landlords for the privilege of removing the planting that currently lines the outer edge of my front porch. My foundation planting is comprised of three medium-sized Schlefflera arboricola anchored at each end by very scrawny non-native boxwoods. They have absolutely no value here for wildlife. They are simply evergreen and easy to maintain. Someday, I hope to replace them with something that will add life to my landscape, but I'll approach my landlords about this once I've done a few more things that are a higher priority. There is no need to overwhelm them so soon.

Yesterday, I took my first direct move to help create life in my new landscape. I planted a Bahama cassia ( Senna mexicana var. chapmanii ) to serve as a larval host plant for three species of sulfur butterflies - cloudless, orange-barred, and sleepy orange, native to my area. It is not enough to simply provide nectar plants to attract the adults. The real goal of a living landscape is to provide for their reproduction. Attracting wildlife is not enough; we must produce it within our landscapes. With butterflies, that means planting their host plants and not worrying over much about the nectar ones. Butterfly gardening is the most straight forward form of landscaping for wildlife. It is also the one likeliest to produce the quickest response. While creating songbird habitat can take a decade or more to reach its potential, butterflies can arrive the day your landscape is planted. Of course, that depends on the butterfly and on how close the nearest population is to your landsc

Where I live, there seems to be an aversion to planting deciduous plants. We want to believe in perpetual summer here - without the real summer inconveniences of heat, humidity and mosquitoes. Folks in Florida fertilize their turf grass throughout the winter, hoping to maintain a lush green lawn despite the fact that our turf grasses are warm-season species that seek rest between the late fall and early spring - even in Florida. We surround ourselves with tropical plants that maintain their foliage year round. Things like crotons and pittosporums that mark off the days of the year with the drudgery of an assembly line worker who despises their job.  Each day in these kinds of landscapes is the same. No need to worry or wonder what tomorrow will bring. I sometimes wonder why such people don't simply paint their windows with this motif. It would save them the time of having to peek outside to see what's going on... It is my belief that landscapes should bring change and that t

Here in Florida, where I now live, we are besieged by transplants - mostly from New England and the Upper Midwest. Just like me, they arrive with no real sense of what makes Florida special. In fairness, they most likely left their previous home with no real sense of what made that special either. Few of us embrace our nativity when it comes to landscaping, favoring things that seem more "exotic" to us because they originate in far off places or have attributes that seem unique and, hence, more valuable.  The problem is especially obvious here as the potential plant palette in Florida includes tropicals that give us a sense of living in some exotic getaway.  Real estate developers and vacation salespeople have spent more than a century creating an image of my adopted home state in order to keep the line of gullible innocents coming here. Truth be told, we are neither tropical nor paradise. These is something powerful in acknowledging what you really are and then em

A fully mature fringe tree - Chionanthus virginicus The tiny bare root sapling fringe tree I just planted at my new home As Lou Reed so aptly wrote, "It takes a busload of faith to get by." I believe that this also is fitting for those of us who plant trees. We plant trees knowing full well that most, if not all, will outlive us and that we may never see them reach their full potential. Since moving south of the Mason-Dixon line, I have been planting fringe trees in my landscape. I simply love the tree. There is no real ecological reason behind it. They just make me feel good. I wait all winter for the buds on the scrawny branches to begin to swell and I start making plans for when the flowers might actually burst forth; plans that include which friends I need to invite over to share their beauty with me. I believe we need these kinds of plants in our landscapes. A landscape that does not include joy and anticipation is simply too boring for my taste.

Yesterday, I stopped by my old address in Seminole to dig up and transplant a few ferns and wildflowers that will, in  all likelihood, not be fully appreciated by whoever purchases this home. This will be the last time I stop here as all of the plants I can safely move have been moved. The others of significance, like my fringe trees ( Chionanthus virginicus ) and silverbells ( Halesia diptera ) are too large now and I will replace them with purchases from native plant nurseries. I will always miss this landscape and the many hours I spent exploring in it, but I understand that new owners will look at it with a different aesthetic. Plants I grew from seed, those that were gifts from friends, and those that I spent years trying to track down so I could add them have a special meaning to me that I can't expect new owners to share. Our landscapes are a reflection on us. They create experiences that are unique to our lives, and that seems especially true when we have planted to cr

Barriers are a thing all of us must deal with throughout our lives. Some barriers are forced upon us but far too many are ones we put on ourselves. This is especially true for those of us that desire to go beyond the norm as it relates to our landscapes. Homeowner Association rules and local ordinances often limit us in our landscaping creativity, but it's our fear of our neighbors or our need to not stick out too far that often holds us back For years, I've been trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to rid the world of the concept of a "backyard wildlife habitat."  I loathe the term with a passion because it insinuates that we should hide it beyond the view of our neighbors and passersby.  If I could, I'd create an alternative group with signs for their "front yard" and "side yard" wildlife landscapes. Truth be told, it is far easier to simply realize that all of our property, no matter how small, needs to be brought into the equation and made usef

 Most of us do not live on property with an existing wetland, especially if our home is in a typical subdivision. Homes built in low-lying areas are built on fill dirt arising from somewhere in the development or trucked in from somewhere else. Because of that, we often resign ourselves to landscaping with the plants adapted to our mesic or xeric conditions. Of course it doesn't have to be that way. My former home and the one I am now landscaping fit the traditional residential conditions, but there are wetland plants that I like to keep close to me. To resolve this, I have put in my first wetland. Creating wetland conditions can take many forms and this won't be the last one I add. It's just the easiest and I have moved all of the components from my previous landscape. Eventually, I will make a more-extensive area using a pool liner and the runoff from my rain gutters/downspout. When I do, I will write about that also. There are good reasons to create a wetlan

I have spent part of my professional life as a restoration ecologist. In that role, it is critical that you understand the history of your property; including the abiotic as well as the biotic forces that shaped it from historical times to the present. Restoration is not simply putting missing plants back into the system. It also requires us to restore the abiotic forces of fire, hydrology, sunlight, etc. When that is not possible, replacing the historic flora becomes futile. Because of that, we are left with to work with what will adapt to our current and future conditions and go from there. As a restoration ecologist, it is important to use only native species and to restrict our focus to those that historically occurred onsite. Respecting the integrity of the various communities that occur onsite and making sure we don't disrupt it, is a serious consideration. Just as we would not want to introduce an invasive non-native, introducing a native that was never historically pr

As is inevitable, weeds have started sprouting up throughout the now-open soil of my developing native plant garden in the front yard. Ripping off the once-lush turf and disturbing the soil has released the thousands (millions?) of weed seeds that had been lying dormant all these years, waiting their turn. I knew this would happen, but it still always amazes me when it does. Weeds are like that. A great many are light stratified, meaning that their seeds are dormant if they are covered up by something - turf, other plants, or even a layer of soil or mulch. When that cover is eliminated and they are brought closer to the surface and exposed to sunlight, they germinate. Any new landscape is bound to produce bumper crops of weeds in its initial years. If you are not prepared for it, your new garden can be overwhelming. My suggestion to new gardeners is to never bite off more than you can chew. Develop your new planting areas in stages that you can then effectively manage, and weed

A green haw I grew from seed collected from my Seminole tree. It is 2 years old and stands about 18 inches tall.  Many of my friends who grow plants for a living do so by cuttings. Although some plants are a bit tricky to propagate this way, most can be easily tricked into producing roots at the end of each sample. By doing so, cuttings can be turned into blooming-sized plants in a short amount of time. For those who depend on this income for their livelihood, it makes a lot of sense to take cuttings from "parent" plants and have sellable specimens without a lot of time investment. I just don't like growing plants from cuttings. I could argue that cuttings are simply clones and that plants produced this way reduce the genetic diversity that's available in the market. This argument is certainly true, but for me also a bit disingenuous. I grow my plants from seed because I love the entire process. Cuttings are mechanical; seeds are magic. There is something spe