Bluebells

The bells are ringing, and you won’t hear a sound, but the fragrance will be there to enjoy, and the colour, well the colour. Blue of course, bluebells. I’m waxing nostalgic here thinking of the ancient woodlands of England where I grew up. In spring they’re awash with the much-loved, nodding heads of the bluebell that rise above the floppy, strap-like foliage. They’re an incredible wildflower spectacle, millions of them carpeting the woods with a violet glow. As children we’d always visit the woods to pick a few to display and enjoy the fragrance at home. The fragrance is redolent of hyacinths but not as strong.

I should really call it the British bluebell rather than English as they grow elsewhere in the British Isles, including Scotland where there’s another plant called bluebell, but that one doesn’t flower until summer. Known as the harebell in England, Campanula rotundifolia is called the bluebell of Scotland. It’s also a pretty plant with bell-shaped flowers that are a paler violet-blue.

The botanical name of the English bluebell is Hyacinthoides non-scripta,
which sounds like something you’d pick up at the pharmacy. Hyacinthoides is from Prince Hyacinthus of Greek myth. Non-scripta means unlettered to distinguish the bluebell from the similar-looking hyacinth. It’s often been called wild hyacinth as it does have the same strap-like foliage and it also grows from a bulb. Each one produces a single stem that droops with the nodding, bell-shaped fragrant flowers.

It is native to western Europe but grows especially well in the UK where cooler conditions are most suitable. It’s a protected species there, and yet it is under threat, not from the usual suspect — loss of habitat, which it is, but from a family member, the Spanish bluebell (Hyacinthoides hispanica). The Spanish bluebell is similar in appearance except the stems are more upright with flowers all around the stem, rather than drooping from one side like the English bluebell, and unlike the English, the flowers of the Spanish bluebell have no fragrance.

A more vigorous plant, it was introduced into the UK by the Victorians as a garden plant, only to escape into the wild and crossbreed with the native species, resulting in a hybrid, potentially out-competing the native.

Lovely as they are, both the Spanish and British bluebells species can become, if not invasive, aggressive in areas where they’ve been introduced. Because of a similar climate on the west coast, they spread easily in Vancouver gardens, and even here in Ontario it has been noted as potentially invasive.

They grow well enough in Ontario gardens hardy to zone five, and I have had a well-behaved clump in my garden that hasn’t budged from where I planted it. Still, it is important to keep an eye on non-native plants.

However, we have no need of those other bluebells because we have our own unrelated native one, Mertensia virginica. The common name is Virginia bluebells, a member of the borage family. It grows in rich, moist woodland from Georgia in the southern US and north to Quebec, here in Ontario, and in my garden.

It is listed as an edible plant, including the flowers, and it has many uses in traditional medicine of Indigenous peoples, including tuberculosis treatment, as a remedy for whooping cough, and even as an antidote for treating poison. If under the weather, it would have been given as a tonic made from this plant.

They might have their own bluebells in the UK, but they also like our Virginia bluebells enough that they’re a popular garden plant there. The Royal Horticultural Society has even given Mertensia virginica the Award of Garden Merit.

Blue, blue my world is blue . . .

Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb

Back before fruit and vegetables were available year-round at the grocery store, when everyone grew their own food, people were desperate after a long winter for something fresh, but it would be months before anything could be harvested from the garden, except for rhubarb — yes, humble rhubarb, which can be harvested as early as May, even earlier if forced, and earlier still if forced indoors. It’s easy to grow and even easier to eat, especially in a pie.

As kids we used to eat fresh stalks dipped in sugar, and I can tell you it took a lot of sugar to overcome the tart taste of fresh rhubarb, probably enough to counteract any healthy benefits derived from eating the rhubarb.

It has a long history as a medicinal plant in Asia, where it originated, but it wasn’t until the introduction of cheap sugar to Europe that it became a popular food dish. Prior to that, it probably saved many hungry peasants from starving while learning how to purse their lips.

Then back in the 1870s someone made the discovery that if rhubarb is forced, it produces longer, sweeter stalks — some say champagne flavoured — a bit of a stretch, methinks. This is done by growing the plant in darkness where instead of producing foliage the stalks stretch upwards, seeking light. There’s an area in northern England that came to be known as the Rhubarb Triangle because in its heyday it produced 90% of the world’s winter rhubarb. This was due to a local source of cheap coal that provided the heat required for the dark growing sheds.

Forcing rhubarb in the garden is as simple as placing a pail or even a garbage can over the clump. If inclined, you could purchase a beautiful replica of a Victorian terracotta rhubarb cloche, but since we’re entering the era of frugal gardening, I’d stick with the garbage can.

But before you can begin forcing rhubarb, you have to grow the stuff. Fall or early spring is the best time to plant. Rather than planting from seed, it’s best to buy a plant, or scoop one from a neighbour who’s dividing a clump. Common varieties are Macdonald, Valentine, Ruby, and Canada Red. When planting the rhizomes, crowns only need an inch or two of soil over them. Rhubarb likes to be well fed, so prepare the soil deeply, adding lots of compost or well rotted manure. Choose a sunny location, allowing as much as a square meter per plant, and water until established.

The plants are fairly drought tolerant, but do need water when actively growing. Adding compost around the plant will keep it healthy. Stalks should not be harvested the first year and only lightly in the second. It’s generally best to harvest only two thirds of the stalks, allowing the plant to grow on through summer, nourishing the rhizome. Even though the leaves contain oxalic acid and are toxic, it’s quite safe to add them to the compost pile. Remove all dead ones from the plant in spring.

For an early winter treat, dig a few crowns in fall, allow them to be frozen, which stimulates breaking of dormancy, then pot them up and place in a dark cold room.  As soon as the stalks are long enough, it’s pie time.

Trees

 Make a statement — plant a tree. If it's only what, where, when, and how that's stopping you, perhaps I can help.

Maybe you've already decided on what type of tree you wish, possibly influenced by childhood memories of lazy afternoons spent beneath a huge maple, or swinging from the branch of a sturdy oak. There's nothing wrong with those choices; however, it may take half a lifetime before those trees grow
large enough for you to relive those dreams, and that's if you stay in your home longer than the Canadian average of only a few years. The beauty of planting a tree, though, is the legacy you will leave. Someday, someone may relax in the shade or swing from the branches of your tree.

The ultimate size of any tree you plant is a serious consideration. Most building lots are small these days and can barely accommodate the house, let alone a tree, and planting large varieties too close to buildings, driveways, or neighbouring properties is a common error. Keep in mind, too, that a tree with a 25 cm wide trunk requires a soil surface of about 20 square metres to stay healthy. Fortunately, nurseries stock a wide range of smaller trees that are more suited to smaller gardens.

Before choosing a tree, consider the conditions around where it will be planted — things like sun and shade or type of soil. Most trees will adapt to local soil conditions, but some will have preferences as to how wet or how dry, how sandy or how clay-like the soil is. Try to select a tree with a shape that will complement the desired function. 

Do you need a  tree that will act as a screen or a windbreak, one that's dense enough to provide summer shade, or one that's airy and open like the honey locust with its lovely lime green foliage? If you have this information before heading out to the nursery or tree farm, it will be easier for knowledgeable staff to make recommendations. Early spring is a good time to plant deciduous trees whilst they're dormant and more so for evergreens. Fall can be a better time to plant deciduous as it allows them to direct growth to the roots before winter. In spring there's a greater demand for water in summer when the tree has leafed out.

After purchasing a tree, be kind to it when handling and transporting. Lift the tree by the container or root ball and not by the trunk. If you can't plant it right away, leave the tree in a sheltered corner out of the sun, but don't forget to water it.

Digging a good hole for a new tree can be a challenge. If the ground is very dry, give it a thorough soaking ahead of time and digging will be much easier. Planting depth is most important. The tree should be planted with the root flare visible --  where the roots leave the trunk. It may be not be visible in the container if it was planted too deep. Always dig the hole wider rather than deeper. Make it bowl-shaped not pail-shaped, up to three times the diameter of the container and loosen up the soil only a little at the bottom, leaving a slight mound on which to set the root ball so that the tree won't settle.

Remove the tree from its container at the last minute before planting and check the roots. If wrapped in burlap or in a fibre pot, remove as much as possible after the tree is in the hole. Current advice is to shake off or even wash off the roots because the material it was planted in will be nothing like the local soil. Check the roots and if they've been circling in the container, loosen them and spread them  out.

When filling in the hole, don’t amend the soil. Enriching a small area around the tree with large amounts of manure and peat moss isn't advised as it will only discourage the roots from spreading. There is no need to add fertilizers. Pack the soil in carefully and water well, but don't drown the roots, especially if the soil is slow to drain. Continue to water as needed until your tree is established, keeping the soil moist but not soaking wet. Mulching with wood chips will help retain moisture, so put down a layer
about 50-70mm deep and do not pile it against the trunk.

Unless the tree is especially tall or in a windy location where it's going to be whipped about, it isn't essential to stake or anchor the tree. If you feel it may be necessary, keep it lower on the trunk and anything wrapped around should be soft — no tight ropes or wire. A piece of loose fabric or old pantyhose is good, but guys, ask first.

And that's the what, when, where, and how, of planting a tree. As for the why, it's because trees are essential to our survival. Care for them and they'll care for us. They are the lungs of the planet.

You don’t need a license to grow trilliums

I can’t say the now defunct design of the last Ontario licence plates concerned me particularly, but it was nice to see the trillium featured on them. I also liked the reference to gardening with the statement that Ontario is a place to grow. The trillium has been Ontario's floral emblem since 1937, and as I’m sure everyone knows, that funny little symbol with three points does represent our provincial flower.

The trillium is also the state wildflower of Ohio, but they don’t honour it the way we do in Ontario. During World War I, the Ottawa Horticultural Society suggested the gentle white trillium should be planted on the graves of Canadian soldiers to signify the homeland left behind, however it was never pursued.

I have a trillium flowering in my garden now, despite suggestions circulating that anyone with a trillium must have plucked it from the wild and in doing so broke the law.

I’m happy to report that I have not, nor am I likely to end up in jail or even be arrested. That’s because it is not against the law to pick or remove trilliums from woodland, unless of course the location is private land. With a slow spring this year, trillium blooms are peaking, or may have passed further south, after lighting up the forest floor. With so many in bloom it’s not surprising that someone is tempted to scoop a few blooms, or even dig up the whole plant.

Although not protected by law perhaps they should be, as should all our precious wildflowers. Picking the trillium for its flower causes damage to the leaves and stems that are essential to future growth. Trilliums don’t transplant at all well from a woodland, and besides harming the plants, it removes the enjoyment for others.

Fortunately, you can grow them in your own garden because they can be purchased from many nurseries that specialize in, and propagate, wildflowers. The trillium you most likely see growing everywhere is Trillium grandiflorum, although according to Ontario Parks, there are another four species.  There’s the red trillium, the painted trillium, the drooping trillium (listed as at risk) and the nodding trillium — I’m not sure I’d be able to tell the difference between the drooping and the nodding.

The red trillium is Trillium erectum, and it’s easy to spot when it pops up in the middle of a patch of white ones. It would even be easy to find one in the dark. Unlike the white variety, which has no fragrance, the red one has the delightful fragrance of day-old roadkill, perfectly designed to attract pollinating flies — and another valuable pollinator plant to add to the garden.

Despite being called the red trillium, the flower has a slightly more burgundy look about it. In fact, deep in the forest there have been reports of ones with slight variations in colour, even orange — I’m still looking. The common name for the red trillium is ‘wake robin’, said to have referred initially to the European robin. Both it and our native robin have similar colouring, and I’m only guessing, but as the breast colour of both birds leans toward orange rather than red, maybe an orange trillium was more common a century or so ago.

There is another species of red trillium I’d like to try growing in my garden and that’s Trillium chloropetalum, the giant wake robin, and it’s a beauty, growing as high as forty-five centimetres high (18 inches). Although native to California, it is a zone six plant, making it hardy enough to grow here.

Wait, there are more. About fifty other species of trillium have been recorded, mostly in North America, though generally further south. So, do watch out for any unique species, but no picking. Unlike those old license plates, they’re not collectors’ items.

Triple mixed up about soil?

Enthusiasm for gardening is at its highest this month, for life-long gardeners and for those about to stick their trowels and shovels into soil for the very first time. But what soil? It used to be easy: call up someone and get a load of topsoil dumped in the driveway. Then the big yellow bags appeared offering a tidier delivery system for regular soil. Tidy yes, but getting the soil out of the bag with a shovel and into a wheelbarrow does make demands on rarely used body parts.

Most plain topsoil is what was stripped from farmland prior to the building of new homes. It might have started out as good soil, but after being stockpiled, sometimes for years, it becomes compacted. This results in the loss of much of the important microbial life. Adding compost will help restore life to the soil.

Also available in bulk is triple-mix. Recipes vary, but it’s typically a blend of soil, peat moss, and compost from leaf and yard waste, and it’s a good choice for most situations. The only drawback is it tends to settle as the organic matter decomposes and after one season it will need topping up, so maybe allow for this when ordering.

When the opportunity arrived to pick up small, easily transported bags of soil, it became so much easier to tentatively begin gardening by filling a planter or two with bags of soil brought home with the groceries. These small, colourful bags are currently stacked up at grocery or hardware stores like sandbags in anticipation of a flood.

The sight of all these bags must be confusing for the new gardener. I wouldn’t have a clue what to use in my garden or in planters if I was just starting out. Garden soil, three-way mix, black earth, potting soil, and what about the equally attractive bags of compost that buttress those bags of soil? There’s sheep compost, cattle compost, maybe horse or even chicken compost. Whenever I pass by I find myself humming Old MacDonald’s Farm.

Which one to choose? For small raised beds, the three-way mix, much the same as triple mix is fine. With the one labelled simply as garden soil I’d be inclined to add the compost of your choice. Plain garden soil is fine for a garden, but not recommended for planters — a soil-free mix can be better for that purpose.

A soil-free mix is composed mostly of peat moss and perlite, or maybe with wood fibre as an environmentally friendly alternative to peat moss. It may be labelled as potting soil. If unsure, simply check for the bag that’s soft and feels light compared to ones containing more soggy soil. The latter can be lightened by adding peat moss or coir. Major brands are now adding fertilizer or mycorrhizal fungi to the mix, though not essential.

Black earth can be a puzzle, and I don’t know why it’s called earth and not soil. It would be easy to assume that because it’s black it must be nutrient rich soil; however, that isn’t necessarily so as good soil comes in all colours, like the red soil of Prince Edward Island, for instance. Black soil (or earth) could have come from a swampy area or it could have been darkened by adding leaves. Unlike the composts that are produced and sold, there are no requirements for the analysis of plain soils unless the producer does it voluntarily.

Compost is regulated by the provincial government as well as federally through the Canadian Food Inspection Agency. Regulations are set out to ensure heavy metals and other toxic materials etc. are not present. For more information on compost, see The Compost Council of Canada website.