Mowing Matters

Living in a landscape of lawns as we do, it would seem knowing how to use a power mower would be second nature.  But as I watched someone blow clippings all over a sidewalk and hit a crabapple tree with a push mower from my office window, I discovered yet another teachable moment.

Let’s start with height.  Mowing grass that is 4 inches high down to 3 inches is just right.  This observes the “1/3 rule,” which states that removing just that much from the grass plant is best for it’s health.  It also leaves the grass tall enough to shade out weeds and maintain a generous root system, yet short enough that it looks good.  Using a mowing height shorter than 2.5 inches is asking for a weed invasion, since grasses are weakened and more light reaches the soil surface.  On some riding mowers, you just turn a dial or move a lever to set the height.  My walk-behind is more complex, but fiddling with the lever on each wheel and using a ruler makes it possible.

Clippings can cause controversy.  As a teenager I liked hitching the Parker Sweeper to my dad’s mower, since this meant that I didn’t have to spend hours raking and carting the mess to the compost pile.  But things have changed since the 70’s, even mowing.  About 30 years ago, researchers from Texas A & M University studied lawn clippings and came to a number of conclusions.  Unless they are clumpy, clippings don’t hurt the lawn, but in fact add back a tremendous amount of nutrients, and they don’t contribute to thatch.  Leaving clippings on the lawn makes less work, and also keeps them out of the landfills.  This was all big news at the time.  In fact, one of my first tasks as a new Cooperative Extension agent in 1989 was to educate folks about “grasscycling,” as we called it then.  Some folks warmed to the idea, while others kept on collecting.

The big breakthrough came when manufacturers perfected the mulching mower.  Using modified or multiple blades and new deck designs, these modern marvels chop up the clippings much finer than the mowers of yesteryear.  My dad’s old Simplicity made piles of debris, whereas my new John Deere produces very little.  I haven’t picked up clippings in years, and my lawn is all the better for it.  My neighbor still collects, bags, and hauls it all to the town dump, but only because his wife makes him do it.

Of course, challenges remain.  Mowing wet or tall grass can be problematic, and fast driving, dull blades or a clogged deck add to the misery.  But blowing grass clippings onto sidewalks and roadways or into waterways or storm drains is my biggest pet peeve.  Clippings are rich in nutrients, and end up polluting lakes and rivers.  In fact, a recent University of Minnesota study found that up to 36% of water pollution from households came from two sources:  grass clippings and pet waste.  So watch where waste goes.       

Veggie History:  Strawberries

Source: Cornell U.

It's shortcake season! Volunteer fire companies, church auxiliaries, and garden clubs now are busy posting signs daily along roadsides announcing "Strawberry & Short Cake Festivals," and the red berries  displayed in pint and quarter baskets   fill the stalls at local farmer markets. 

But did you know that these familiar strawberries (Fragaria x ananassa)  are actually an European  cultivar of two crossed wild varieties from the New World?

Native Americans  introduced European settlers to the eastern  variety, Fragaria virginiana. Although the settlers sometimes included it in their gardens, they generally picked the berries in the surrounding woods; and  Europeans returning to the  Old World took plants back to their  gardens.  In the early 18th century, F. virginiana  probably accidentally hybridized with another New World species, Fragaria chiloensis that grew along the West Coast and in South America to produce  our familiar F. x ananassa.   This hybrid quickly displaced Fragaria fresca (the "alpine strawberry" common throughout the Northern Hemisphere), in European gardens, it and soon traveled back across the Atlantic.  By the end of 18th century the new strawberry was being sold to gardeners like Jefferson by "plant men" in America. The rest is history, of course; but for a lot more information about strawberries, see Strawberryplants.org. 

And remember:

"I eat a lot of fruit because if I fill up on strawberries or an apple, then I'll have one small 

piece of cheesecake rather than two big pieces." - Tom Fridan

Adopted from a June, 2019 post from the Rensselaer County Vegetable Blog

by Irv Stephens, Master Gardener

One Day In May

Gardeners are busy people.  Pruning, planting, mulching, mowing and countless other jobs have us working like a baby bird’s parents.  How about just walking around and admiring the fruits of our labors?  On the last weekend of May, I took a stroll on my own 1.3 acres to simply enjoy.

The front yard “rock garden” (a poor example of the genre, since it contains no alpine plants) is home to a lovely patch of dwarf crested iris.  Only a few inches tall, the lovely pale blue blossoms with gold-crested falls make a tiny patch of sky fallen to earth.  Nearby, the sometimes thuggish Ajuga reptans is also in bloom, with attractive electric purple-blue spikes.  The ajuga is kept in check by even more vigorous sedums, and as a sedum fan, I think they can’t do much wrong.  Residing on the corner of the house is a large Doublefile Viburnum with tiers of snowy-white flowers.  This particular plant is plagued with a mild case of branch canker dieback, but looks good today, so I won’t fret.

The gravel driveway hosts compaction-tolerant weeds as well as a few pioneer perennials.  Escaping rich soil for poor, blue fescue clumps happily self-sow in a small patch I back over with my truck every day.  They just don’t care.  Gardening websites prescribe rich, compost-amended soil and plenty of moisture for tall bleeding heart (Dicentra spectabilis), but at my place they volunteer to line the driveway, abandoning better digs in the backyard.  

The perennial garden out back reaches peak color in mid-summer, but a few plants are looking showy now.  Big-root geranium, in both palest pink and darker pink hues, is a bomb-proof perennial groundcover with a short flowering period but good foliage continuously.  New Hampshire Purple geranium is another stalwart, growing to about 12 inches high and 18 inches wide, and produces deep pink flowers sporadically all season.  John Elsley (the perennial geranium, not the gentleman) is even shorter, at 6 inches tall, with similar flowers.  Both these cultivars are called “bloody cranesbills” for their deep-red autumn foliage and pointy seedpods.  Mourning widow geranium has attractive deep maroon-purple flowers, but unfortunately she is rather promiscuous, sowing herself a little too freely for my taste, but I let her stay.  I’ve had all these plants over twenty years running, making hardy geraniums one of my better garden investments.

A brief but welcome display is offered by a small patch of Camassia, bulbous plants from the western U.S.  Their floral spikes of vivid blue, star-like blossoms are an annual treat and take me out west to Utah without leaving Schodack.  Pagoda dogwoods, a native understory tree, are dotted with clusters of tiny, creamy-while flowers on their wedding-cake layers of branches.  And in the smell-it-before-you-see-it department, quirky umbrella magnolia is covered with bowl-shaped blooms of up to 10 inches across atop its two-foot long leaves. 

Each day in the garden is beautiful and different; slow down to see it.

Cones of Concern

I bet worrying about volcanoes is low on your priority list.  Well, I hate to tell you, but there are two types of local volcanoes to fret over.  The first is a “large swelling of hot rock” that Rutgers University scientists found deep below New England.  That magma isn’t expected to cause us a problem for millions of years, or perhaps ever.  The other type are in commercial landscapes, in front of convenience stores, and even in front yards.  They don’t spit steam and lava, but they’re dangerous nonetheless.  They are the MULCH volcanoes.

In case you think I’m blowing smoke, let me explain.  Over the last few decades, it has become a common practice to make a circle of mulch around a tree.  Sometimes, mulch is applied to the circle every year, and it eventually builds up ten, twelve, perhaps even eighteen inches high.  This “volcano” makes the tree look like it is sticking out of a highly iced cupcake (but we don’t call them mulch cupcakes because that would be, frankly, silly).

Stuff happens inside the volcano.  Surface rooting is encouraged, and girdling roots may grow around the trunk, strangling the tree.  Lots of organisms which decompose mulch accumulate, and they start to decompose the buried bark of the tree.  Insects and rodents may also be encouraged to move in.  If enough bark is destroyed, the tree declines from “mulch girdling.”  Lastly, some experts have found that hardwood bark mulch contains manganese.  More mulch means more manganese, which in turn robs the tree of iron.  Over-mulched trees may gradually have smaller leaves that are pale green or yellow, shoot dieback, and an overall unhealthy appearance.  

I’m not blowing my top over mulch around trees; far from it.  Mulch is good because it keeps mowers and string trimmers away, since dinging the bark enough times causes tree death from a syndrome called “lawn mower blight.”  Discouraging close grass and weed growth also provides a neat appearance and helps the tree to grow, since some herbaceous plants (such as the grasses called fescues) exude chemicals from their roots that actually inhibit young woody plants.  But we just need to layer the mulch two or three inches deep and no more, and to keep it away from the trunk.  Shape your mulch like a saucer, with a rim to catch water (especially for newly planted specimens) and very little in the center near the bark, and all will be fine.

So what started all this mulch madness?  Here’s my theory.  Unlike many horticultural problems which have their roots in neglect, mulch volcanoes originally sprouted in the well-tended landscapes around upscale apartments and commercial centers.  Each spring, the faded mulch was covered over with a fresh layer by busy landscape crews making things beautiful.  No one stopped to consider what was happening, and homeowners drove by, saw the highly manicured grounds, and said, “Hey, that must be the way to take care of trees!”  The volcanoes then went residential because people lava to mulch.    

Seeing Yellow

What do you see when you look at a lawn full of dandelions?  Driving past bright-speckled lawns on my way to work got me thinking about how Americans, divided by so much, are probably also split by their reactions to these vivid yellow flowers popping up hither and yon.  Here are some ponderings on the human reaction to Taraxacum officinale. 

Kids tend to like dandelions, and I can see why.  The mini-yellow suns are undeniably cheerful, and blowing on the seedheads is a delightful way to celebrate spring.

Beekeepers vote “yes” to dandelions because they supply honeybees with an early cache of pollen and nectar.  Although foreign, dandelions can benefit many types of pollinators and tend not to push out native plants as much as establish themselves in landscapes already disturbed by human activity.

Dandelions have long been used a diuretic, which has earned the species the unflattering names “wet-the-bed” and “pissy beds.”  Warts, asthma, low blood pressure, poor circulation, ulcers, constipation and colds have all been treated with dandelions at some time and place in history, so just about all of us might want to show them a little love for their service to humanity.

Nutritionists know that young dandelion leaves are full of vitamins, including A, C and E, as well as antioxidants.  Epicureans make a coffee substitute from the roots and create salads with the leaves.  When I bought my old house, a bottle marked “Dandelion Wine, 1972” was found in the basement.  Unfortunately, the contents looked far too questionable to taste, but I like to think of it as a leftover from the “Flower Power” generation. 

Home sellers might find dandelions distasteful.  To some, plants other than grass in a lawn indicate a slackening of standards, sloth and laziness.  If my neighbor has dandelions, is anyone going to want to buy my home?  Others worry about the spread of depravity, and the puffball of dandelion seeds is seen as a precursor to the spread of problems, perhaps even those beyond weeds.  In poking around the comments section of some websites, I’ve discovered that having a dandelion-free lawn is more important in some neighborhoods than waving hello.  Weed-less-ness is also a symbol of spending power.  There tend to be fewer dandelions in neighborhoods with greater discretionary income, since getting rid of dandelions is costly, whether you do-it-yourself or hire-it-out.  Spending money indicates wealth, and those with wealth are seen as good and worthwhile, especially in today’s U.S.A.           

Big chemical companies love dandelions, since they’ve used the plant to convince some lawn owners that dandelions are evil and need to be eradicated.  This of course puts more green in Big Chem’s pockets.  It also benefits an entire chain of advertising firms, wholesalers and retailers, and lawn care operators who market, sell, and spray the herbicides.  An interesting exercise for an economist might be tallying up the money involved in killing the cheeky, yet humble, dandelion.

How else do we see you, dandelion? 

2019 Summer Gardening Programs at Rensselaer County's CCE Demonstration Garden

This year's schedule of gardening programs presented by the Horticulture Program of the county's Cornell Cooperative Extension   appear below.  All programs are free and open to the public. Presenters   are either Master Gardeners or Extension staff.

The Demonstration Garden is located on the campus of  the Robert C. Parker School  at 4254 Rte. 43 in Wynantskill (North Greenbush, NY 12198).

Directions From Interstate I-90 Exit 8: East onto Rte. 43; pass through the Rte. 4 intersection towards West Sand Lake for approximately 2.1 miles;  turn left into the Robert C. Parker School. Parking is adjacent to the demonstration garden.  

For more information, call Cornell Cooperative Extension’s Horticulture Program at (518) 272-4210 or e-mail dhc3@cornell.edu.

Program Schedule

• “Introduction To Straw Bale Gardening” - Wednesday, May 15 from 7 to 8 PM. 
Planting vegetables and flowers directly into straw bales may sound odd, but it provides many advanatges and amazing results! Master and Straw Bale Gardener Becky Raymond will show us this novel technique. Bring your garden soil for a free pH test, too!

• “Starting Right With Tomatoes” - Tuesday, May 21 from 7 to 8 PM.
Tiny tomato plants are like puppies: they grow best with guidance. We’ll discuss how to prepare the soil, plant, fertilize, water, stake and keep diseases at bay so your young tomato plants will produce a healthy harvest. Bring your garden soil for a free pH test, too!

• “Perennial Plant Propagation: New Plants From Old” - Wednesday, June 5 from 7 to 8 PM. 
Come watch Master Gardeners demonstrate various techniques to get new plants from your favorite perennial plants. We’ll show simple division, softwood cuttings and other techniques you can employ at home, and giveaway some samples, too!

• “Using Herbs Throughout The Seasons” - Tuesday, July 9 from 7 to 8 PM. 
Explore the varied uses of herbs you can grow yourself, including for teas, medicine and cooking. The basics of growing herbs and of drying and storing them for future enjoyment will also be discussed by Master Gardeners led by Kathy Hartley and Janet Poole.

• “Cooking In The Garden” - Tuesday, July 30 from 7 to 8 PM. 
Back by popular demand! What can you do with summer’s gorgeous produce? Using vegetables grown on-site Master Gardeners will prepare a variety of fresh and healthy dishes to share with the audience. Join us to learn new recipes and enjoy sampling some delicious sum- mer foods! Master Gardener leaders will be Nancy Scott and Barbara Nuffer.

• “Late Summer Is For Lawns” - Tuesday, August 13 from 7 to 8 PM. 
Mid-August to mid- September is the best time for lawn weed management, overseeding, fertilizing, and renovation. Bring samples of problems (weeds, bugs, etc.) and we’ll discuss options to improve your lawn for the future. Hosted by CCE Educator David Chinery.

• “Great Tomato Tasting” - Tuesday, August 20, from 6:30 to 7:30 PM. 
NOTE EARLIER START TIME! What’s your favorite tomato? Come find out by tasting a wide variety of delicious tomatoes grown by Master Gardeners. We’ll have some old favorites as well as some new top picks. We’ll also talk about tomato growing challenges, so bring us your tired, your diseased, your dead specimens, yearning to be compost.

“Cornell Cooperative Extension is an employer and educator recognized for valuing AA/EEO, Protected Veterans, and Individuals with Disabilities and provides equal program and employment opportunities.” Individuals with questions or special needs requiring accommodation should contact Cornell Cooperative Extension at (518) 272- 4210. CCE provides equal program and employment opportunities.

Best Maple Ever?

The flowering trees look especially spectacular this year.  From the white lace of the native shad to the bright magenta of the redbuds, there is a colorful feast for the eyes on every hillside and in every neighborhood.  Perhaps even more impressive, but rather ominous, are the blooming Norway maples.  A bright yellow-green in flower, they promise to rain down bazillions of invasive helicopter-like seeds in just a few weeks time.  What seemed like the greatest tree going when imported by John Bartram in 1756 is now confirmed as an unfortunate mistake. 

Once proclaimed “the best maple we have for street use” and “one of the finest ornamental trees,” Norway maple today brings cries of derision from ecologists, a shrug of the shoulders by nurseries which still sell it, and blank stares from non-gardeners.  Where did all the angst, ambiguity and ambivalence come from?  Native not just in Norway, but in a broad swath all the way to the Caucasus Mountains, Acer platanoides naturally inhabits lowlands and river valleys, but has many characteristics which allow it to thrive far beyond its original territory.  It can survive, and often thrive, in darker shade than most other trees, and grow in mediocre soil and dry conditions, allowing it to inhabit many niches.  It blooms early, produces copious seeds annually, and spreads them liberally.  The seeds then germinate in high numbers.  It survives in smoke and air pollution, compacted soil, and around road salt.  When selecting a tough, easy-to-grow tree, our fore-gardeners found a good thing.  The hitch is that all this also makes for the perfect invasive tree, one that can jump the garden fence and run amuck, without a glance back over its lower limb.  Perhaps Norway maple is the Norway rat of the horticultural world.

All this is not to say that Norway doesn’t have problems.  This is a tree that is particularly prone to girdling roots, errant underground growths which wrap around and cause self-strangulation.  While sometimes easily visible at the soil surface, trunk cracking and straight or concave (rather than convex) lower trunk conformation indicate girdling roots are lurking down below.  Girdling roots are so common on Norway maples that it is probably more normal than not to see a large Norway maple declining due to this silent killer.

Then there is tar spot, a leaf disease which makes Norway maples ugly, but doesn’t cause them lasting harm.  Two summers ago, weather conditions helped create the perfect storm for this fungus to go on a rampage, and by August Norways were dropping leaves like a shedding sheepdog drops fur.  Since the hills of Troy are covered in Norways, the area looked terrible, and people grew distressed.  When the local TV news came calling, I had a difficult time acting concerned, since not only do I not feel bad when invasive weeds suffer, but I also knew that the trees would ultimately be fine.  Perhaps if we could reduce the Norway maple story to a soundbite, the public would listen.