George's Current Ramblings and Readlings

Lanternflies and Learning from Your Sofa

May 12th, 2020

   Be on the lookout for some new little bugs crawling around that you might never have seen before.

This is what a spotted lanternfly young nymph looks like.
(Credit: USDA/Stephen Ausmus)

   The spotted lanternfly – that voracious new bug from Asia that was discovered in Berks County in 2014 – has officially spread into Cumberland, York, and Perry counties in addition to Dauphin, Lancaster, Lebanon. It’s now pretty much in all of southcentral and southeastern Pennsylvania.

   The state Department of Agriculture has extended the lanternfly quarantine to 26 Pennsylvania counties, including as far west as Beaver and Allegheny counties.

   Most of this year’s spotted lanternflies will be hatched and out crawling this month, looking for tender young plant growth on which to feed.

   The bug’s early stages don’t look anything like the inch-long adults with the distinctive set of orange-red spotted wings that can be seen when the wings are fully open. (The wings are gray with black spots when closed.)

   In the first three stages of a lanternfly’s life, the bug is about the size of a crawling tick and is black with white and sometimes hard-to-see spots. That’s what to look for now.

The nymphs turn red and look like this by June.
(Credit: Penn State Extension)

   By June, the lanternfly “toddlers” are slightly larger and turn a more noticeable red with white spots. They then morph into flying adults in July before dying in fall after the females lay eggs for the next year.

See Penn State Extension’s web page on identifying spotted lanternflies

   One thing you can do to help Penn State University and the state Ag Department track (and hopefully contain) the spread of lanternflies is to “band” a tree or two. This involves wrapping three-inch-wide bands of sticky flypaper (available at hardware and farm-supply stores or online) around trees about four feet from the ground.

   The flypaper captures the young lanternflies as they attempt to climb upwards in search of a leafy snack. (Penn State has a video on tree banding on its lanternfly web pages.)

   To keep birds, butterflies, and beneficial flying insects from getting caught, add a wrap of chicken wire or screening a few inches out from the bands – ideally covered with cheesecloth or garden fabric.

About that Bulb Foliage…

May 4th, 2020

   You’re probably tempted about now to cut down the now-bloomless daffodils, hyacinths, and other spring bulbs in your yard that have finished their show for the year.

Forget about braiding bulb foliage, left, but removing the bloomed-out flower stalks is fine.

   Don’t.

   Also don’t twist them, braid them, or otherwise mess with the foliage. These few weeks are the most important of the year for your bulbous health (or at least the flowering part of it).

   Those leaves – plain green though they are – are now taking in sunlight to fuel the chlorophyll-charged photosynthesis process, which stores energy in the underground bulbs to grow next year’s flowers.

   By cutting the leaves early, you short-circuit the recharge and weaken future flower shows – possibly to the point where you get no flowers at all. It’s one of the leading answers to the question, “Why didn’t my bulbs bloom this year?”

   I understand why gardeners are often in a hurry to get rid of bulb foliage.

   It can detract from the plants coming up around them, and the leaves often splay apart, flop, or start to discolor.

   That’s why someone years ago invented the practice of twisting the foliage and tying or rubber-banding it into little green straitjackets. The idea, I think, is to make the foliage look  neater until it’s time to cut it down.

   No. 1, this seems like a lot of tedious, unnecessary work to me.

   And No. 2, it’s counter-productive to the plants. Bundling the leaves cuts down so much of the leafy surface area exposed to the sunlight that it’s barely any better than getting rid of the leaves altogether.

More Trees, Please

April 21st, 2020

   I’m running a deficit right now. Money and energy, too, but the one I’m talking about has to do with trees.

What was left of the hazard pin oak after the tree company got done.

   When my wife, Sue, and I moved to Pittsburgh last year, we inherited a long-unkempt lot that had a variety of dead, dying, and hazard trees.

   A huge, struggling pin oak was easily within striking range of the house, and an even bigger silver maple had grown a branch the size of a municipal sewer line over our shed.

   A 40-foot-tall Colorado blue spruce dying from needlecast disease was our front-yard “specimen,” and six smaller to mid-sized blue spruces were already totally needle-less on the side and back banks.

   I cut down the smaller ones and hired a tree company to handle the big ones, forking out $7,000 in the process.

   I hate to be a tree-killer, but sometimes the deed has to be done. Trees are nice in the landscape for lots of reasons, but they’re not so good on top of our power lines or through our attics.

   Dead trees are going to eventually fall, and when there’s a target in range, it’s better that we get them down ASAP in a controlled way.

Lots of blue spruce are “baring out” from the bottom up due to needlecast disease.

   Besides flat-out failing old trees, we’re losing lots of Douglas firs and Colorado blue spruces lately to needlecast, and emerald ash borers have been wiping out virtually our whole covering of ash trees.

   Many communities – ours included – have been reporting alarming losses of tree canopies when compared to just a decade or two ago. (The Pa. Department of Conservation and Natural Resources has an interactive Community Tree Map if you want to see tree-coverage data from around the state.)

   The way I look at it, tree-removal can be a good thing in the long run if we’re all replacing older, failing, inferior, and/or hazard trees with newer ones that are better suited to the sites.

   That’s what I’m working on now. And April is an ideal time to plant.

Read George’s article on “So You Think You Know How to Plant a Tree?”

   My goal is to not only replace all of the cut-down trees but to end up with twice as many – and with a much more diverse selection than this little half-acre had before.

   A half of an acre is bigger than a lot of lots, which means I could get away with some bigger species than small yards, which should generally stick with small trees.

   Nevertheless, I’m leaning heavily on small and mid-sized species for several reasons.

   One is that I can plant more of them. Diversity is so important, both for “hedging bets” when the latest species-specific plague comes along but also for feeding and sheltering wildlife. Plus, I like having lots of different trees to look at as they all change throughout the season.

   Second, big trees tend to throw out big roots, which limits what else I can plant around the yard.

   And third, I want some selected shade but not dense shade everywhere. Besides being more likely fall-down-on-the-house targets, gigundo trees slow the ability of a property to dry after rains. My lot already has drainage issues, and the now-defunct oak and maple were keeping it soggy longer.

   So what does a plant geek like me plant when there’s a blank slate, you might wonder?

Virused-Out Trips

April 14th, 2020

   The two garden trips that Lowee’s Group Tours and I had planned for April and May are officially casualties of the coronavirus pandemic… for now.

We’ll have to wait until next year to sniff the lilacs at Rochester’s annual Lilac Festival.

   The April 30 day trip we were going to do to two Lancaster County home gardens and to two stellar Lancaster County plant places is off but now rescheduled for Fri., June 19. We’re hoping the coast will be clear by then and things back to at least semi-normal.

   The Lancaster trip starts with a visit to the 1-acre, no-lawn “Gardens of Oz” of Dr. Dennis Denenberg near Manheim. The property has a variety of theme gardens, including a Wizard of Oz garden with a yellow brick road and Toto doghouse.

   Dennis’s house is a veritable Wizard of Oz museum, too. We’ll tour both the gardens and house.

   Stop 2 is the colorful beds on the grounds of Vivian and Bob Abel’s Pheasant Run Farm Bed and Breakfast in the serene Lancaster County countryside.

   Vivian is an active garden clubber and has flowers and gardens both around the B&B and sprinkled throughout the 48-acre property – 26 acres of which is farmed.

Why “Clank” Is a Bad Sound in the Landscape

April 7th, 2020

   I thought it was the heavy black clay that’s on the way to becoming coal that was responsible for the awful drainage in my new Pittsburgh yard.

Me encountering solid rock with a digging bar. “Clank!”

   As it turns out, it’s the future coal and a solid layer of rock lurking a foot underground that’s behind all of the sogginess and surface runoff.

   I discovered that while trying to dig post holes (in isolation) for a fence to address that other gardening nightmare I have – fearless deer.

   The wooden fence that came with the house was rotting and breaking.

   I was going to hire a fence company to replace it with a six-foot-tall vinyl privacy fence… until I got the $7,000 estimate.

   “I’m getting old, but I’m not that decrepit yet that I can’t dig holes and lug plastic panels,” I figured.

   So to whittle the cost down to more like $2,500 in materials, I got out the post-hole digger and digging bar and got started.

   The first two holes weren’t bad. It was hard work, but I was 32 inches deep in about 20 minutes each.

   Then I hit a root the size of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s thigh in the middle of hole three.

   Two hours of hacking with a hand ax later, I decided to rent an auger to drill the remaining dozen holes – and hoped that no more roots were lurking.

   I’d never used a gas-powered auger before, but in the YouTube videos I watched, these drills on steroids bored three feet down in less than a minute with almost no operator effort.

   Apparently, those videos were shot by people who have actual soil in their yards.

   Here in the real world, hand-operated augers are useless when roots or rocks are in the way.