George's Current Ramblings and Readlings

Watch for Jumping Worms

August 13th, 2024

   Earthworms have long been a gardener’s friend – aerating the soil with their tunneling, decomposing organic matter, and leaving behind nutritious “castings” in the process.

Note the light-colored band that goes the whole way around the abdomen of this jumping worm.
Credit: Cornell University

   But there’s a new worm in town, and this one is as destructive to the soil as good ol’ earthworms are helpful.

   The newcomer is commonly known as the “jumping worm,” an Asian species that gets its name from its distinctively hyperactive, thrashing habit.

   If you’re out there digging this summer and notice worms that seem to be agitated and writhing, you likely have jumping worms.

   Mid to late summer is when they’re most active.

   Unlike our “normal” European-native earthworms that calmly squiggle and benefit the soil, jumping worms are fidgety, ravenous feeders that deplete the soil of organic matter and nutrition.

   They’re really not all that new to America, though, since they apparently first arrived on American shores in the late 1800s from Korea, China, and Japan. However, it’s only been the last five years that jumping worms have become a noticeable problem in Pennsylvania.

   The state Department of Agriculture’s Invasive Species Council has now classified jumping worms as an “emerging threat,” while the state Department of Conservation and Natural Resources reports sightings of this soil destroyer throughout Pennsylvania.

   “If you poke them, pick them up, or dig them up, they flail all about as a defense mechanism against predators,” says Penn State University entomologist Michael Skvarla in a Penn State Extension video on jumping worms. “They’ll flip all around. It’s very obvious once you’ve seen it.”

Why One Bloom Time Is No Longer Enough

July 30th, 2024

   American gardeners love their azaleas, lilacs, and hydrangeas for the spectacular spring floral shows these classic shrubs put out.

Endless Summer hydrangea is one of the best known of the new reblooming shrubs.

   But after a year in the making, the show is over in two or three weeks. Wouldn’t it be nice if these plants could bloom longer… or better yet, bloom again in the same season?

   That’s been happening more and more lately as plant breeders and plant-development companies have been delivering a host of reblooming versions of our favorite shrubs and perennial flowers.

   The two biggest deja-vu breakthroughs so far are in reblooming hydrangeas and reblooming azaleas.

   Minnesota’s Bailey Nurseries hit paydirt when it developed the Endless Summer hydrangea, a variety that produced softball-sized flowers of blue or pink (depending on soil acidity) in late summer and fall in addition to the main June bloom.

   Aided by its distinctive blue pot and heavy marketing, Endless Summer has become one of America’s top-selling plants. The brand now extends into six reblooming varieties, including the lacecap-flowered Twist-n-Shout, a deep-rosy bloomer called Summer Crush, and the new compact Pop Star.

   Numerous other reblooming hydrangeas have followed suit, including the Let’s Dance, Forever and Ever, Seaside Serenade, Magical, and Everlasting series.

   Louisiana plantsman Buddy Lee cracked the azalea code with an introduction he called the Encore azalea that rebloomed in fall after a first performance in May.

   The Encore line has since grown to nearly three dozen different azalea varieties, including 24 that are winter-hardy to the Harrisburg area’s USDA Zone 6b/7a climate rating.

    It’s also led to reblooming azaleas from other growers, including the Bloom-a-Thon, ReBLOOM and Double Shot series.

   The success of those two cases opened the floodgates for breeders to find rebloomers in just about every other shrub genus.

Putter Time

July 16th, 2024

   It might be hot and dry, but we’re now nestled in that easy-going time frame of the gardening year that I like to call “putter time.”

   It’s a period of relative calm wedged between the two seasons of soil-jockey fury – spring (when it seems like everything needs to be done all at once), and fall (when picking up after this season and setting the stage for next join forces).

   I like putter time because there’s no pressure to work through a lengthy to-do list before bad weather hits, ideal timing runs out, or the whole thing threatens to cross the line from “busy” to “overwhelming.”

   Summer is a time when the pace is more meander than sprint and when there’s leeway to stop, sniff, ponder, enjoy the blooms, and basically put off until tomorrow any noticed jobs… if you feel like it.

   Summer’s jobs are a lot lighter than spring or fall, too.

   Especially in May, the work includes heavy-duty mulching, exhaustive trimming and pruning of bushes and hedges, and the back-bending jobs of cutting spring-bulb foliage followed by planting and transplanting annuals, perennials, and shrubs.

   Come fall, it’s time to yank and haul the season’s spent plants, move those falling leaves where they’re piling up, and whip the lawn back into shape (which one year for me meant replacing the whole drought-killed front yard).

   But in summer, the jobs are mostly lighter, easier things like watering, snipping a few wayward branches here and there, yelling at the deer and rabbits, and cutting the grass (or not, when it’s so dry that the grass is turning brown).

   My summertime putter days largely consist of patrolling the yard with a five-gallon bucket in hand, ready to pluck out any weeds just getting started. I look at it as “harvesting compost.”

   With this kind of regular, slow-paced policing, I have virtually no weed trouble. Colonies never have a chance to develop, and I deny all weeds the chance to flower, set seed, and create tomorrow’s outbreaks.

   My weeding “tools” are mainly my index finger and thumb rather than hoes or a tank sprayer of Roundup.

   It’s only when ground is left bare and ignored that weeds have a chance to turn into the botanical monsters that they can be. I’ve had to tackle that, too (after inheriting others’ yards), and I can tell you that leisurely but regular putter patrols are a whole lot better way to go.

   My summer putter days also sometimes involve a little fertilizing of the veggies and potted flowers, some dead-heading and neatening of flowers, and occasionally some action to head off a particularly damaging scenario involving bugs or disease.

   But the thing I like most about summer putter days is that they give me an excuse to get out there and really enjoy the gardens up close and personal. They give the illusion that I’m out there “working” when I’m really just soaking up the setting.

Listen to What Your Gardens Are Telling You

July 2nd, 2024

   Doctors can ask patients where and how it hurts to zero in on a diagnosis.

These astilbe plants are trying to tell that they’re not happy in full sun and dry soil.

   It’s not as straightforward in the landscape when you’re trying to figure out what’s going wrong with your plants.

   Although plants can’t talk or point, they are good at giving us clues. We just have to pay attention enough and be astute enough to interpret what they’re trying to tell us.

   This isn’t always easy, but the effort is worthwhile because it can prevent dead plants, keep you from wasting time and money on misguided treatments, and maybe most important, give information to help with future plant selection.

   Unless you catch a groundhog waddling away with your cabbage between his teeth, you’re usually going to have to rely on the garden’s two main ways of communicating stress – signs and symptoms.

   Signs are direct clues – things you can see that are likely causing trouble. That would include things like pepper-sized leaf fungi viewed under a hand lens, little brown “pellets” (rabbit poop) next to the chewed-off petunias, or leaves that have been chewed between the veins (caterpillars or beetles).

   Symptoms are tougher. These are how plants have reacted to a problem, which is hard because a particular symptom can be caused by several different issues.

   Wilting, for example, can happen because of lack of soil moisture, rotted roots due to too much water, animals chewing the roots, disease, intense heat, or over-fertilizing, to name a few.

Survivor Plants

June 18th, 2024

   Way back when I was a Cub Scout leader, we started the year by having the boys discuss what the pack’s rules should be.

These inkberry hollies aren’t doing a very good job of surviving in this challenging commercial seting.

   The 8-year-olds’ first suggestion was, “No killing.”

   I wouldn’t have thought of that, but it was definitely a good place to start.

   That also happens to be a good place to start with your planting/replanting plans.

   Unfortunately, we kill way too many plants.

   A lot of it can be traced to a few key troubles, such as atrocious “soil,” erratic and extreme weather, bugs, plant diseases, and my most frustrating gardening challenge, animal damage (especially deer).

   Yes, a lot can go wrong.

   That’s why I’m a disciple of the Mayhem School of Landscape Design. Its leading principle is to first select tough plants that are likely to survive abuse, then worry about color, texture, forms, bloom times, etc.

   After all, a dead plant is a bad plant (except possibly for a Harry Lauder’s walking stick or a Japanese maple painted silver in an Ikebana arrangement).

   No matter how cool the plant looks in the pot or how common it is in garden centers, if it has a good chance of croaking, it’s not a great choice.

   Garden long enough and you’ll sort out the survivors from the wimps.