Category Archives: It’s Still Just Dirt

“It’s still just dirt” ~ November 2024

By Sue Healey, Tillsonburg Horticultural Society 

The cold reality of November usually hits me in the garden. Most often, it’s late in the day and raining and I am struggling to find space in the already packed beds for that last bulb or plant or bush that I so blithely bought in the spring. There, with wet shoulders and numb hands, I realize it’s November and there was snow last night. The growing year is over. Whatever plans I had for the garden will now have to wait until spring. And while I love the austere beauty of winter, the loss of light and colour isalways keenly felt. It’s this time of year that I appreciate my potted plants most. While outside is bare and black, the indoor garden is alive and growing. My collection of indoor plants has just come in from their summer outdoors and most are at their finest. None more so, than the begonias. This large and diverse family of plants, with colourful leaves and outlandish shapes, is an excellent way to dispel some of the gloom November can bring. Their care, a healthy distraction from the shortening days and worsening weather.

While I grow a paltry few begonia, there are thousands of varieties to be had. One could easily fall down the rabbit hole of collection. There are three main categories: 1) fibrous rooted, examples include angel wing and wax, 2) tuberous, container plants featuring prominent flowers and 3) rhizomatous, grown for fabulous foliage. Over the decades I have grown all three types and found outstanding examples of each. 

For outdoor hanging baskets or mixed containers, tuberous begonias with their Day-Glo blossoms offer a wide selection of both colour and form. With blooms in white to fuchsia and every shade in between, this variety is best with some sun during the early part of the day and consistent moisture. The leaves can be large and jagged, sometime suffused with colour, depending on the variety. But they are mostly overshadowed by the exquisite, double blossoms reminiscent of piped icing flowers. A well grown blooming begonia is a showstopper as a specimen. Plants can be overwintered from year to year by storing tubers in peat or sawdust in shallow trays and replanting in spring. More often, they are treated as annuals. 

Fibrous begonias include both the bedding type, often referred to as wax begonias and the angel wing begonias. Wax begonias have been used for decades in outdoor public gardens and make good filler, taking more sun than most in their family. Angel or dragon wing type offer outstanding foliage with leaves held in pairs, often with jagged edges and silver markings. Frost tender and usually grown as a houseplant, the canes can be pruned to maintain a bushier, shorter profile. In late winter, small bunches of pink or red blossoms dangle among the leaf bracts. Bright, indirect light and consistent moisture will keep these begonias going for years. 

For spectacular foliage, the rhizomatous begonia reigns supreme. No other plant can rival the range of leaf colour and form that this category encompasses. The Rex series includessome of the most dramatic plants available to the average gardener. Extensive breeding and hybridizing have resulted in otherworldly combinations. Some boast huge leaves, glinting like metallic shields, veins etched in contrasting red or purple. “Escargot” is a fine and popular example, it’s leaves made of impossible swirls of silver and green. 

The large leaved Rexvarieties are at their best grown outdoors where summer light and humidity are ample. They are less amiable to overwinter but worthy of the effort. Smaller divisions and a cool, bright room with good air circulation is the best starting point. Easier to grow and keep, if less flashy, is beefsteak begonia (Begonia erythrophylla). This stalwart old favourite was introduced in1845 and it’s glossy, plate sized leaves have been gracing ourwindowsills ever since. Tough and resilient, I use it as a houseplant in dim rooms, the deep green leaves getting larger (but fewer) the farther away the light is. In bountiful light, the leaves will pleat and ruffle in their rush to expand. In outdoor containers, it makes a good foil for showier begonias, ferns or primrose. 

Easily propagated but hard to find in shops, your best bet is a gardening friend or neighbourhood plant sale. Mine came as gift, wrapped in a wet paper towel one cold December day, 20 years ago. It has been nick-named Maida’s begonia ever since.  

Smaller rhizomatous versions come in hot pink, silver, or lime green. My favourite drapes over it’s pot with leaves like eyelids streaked with neon and edged in winking lashes. Begonia bowerae forms small, neat mounds on long winding stems. It isa hardy plant, easily adaptable to any but the darkest environments. But given a cool spot where it can stretch towardsbright light, moist but not damp soil, this begonia will bloom in late winter. Thin, foot long stems shoot out over it’s mounding leaves, dangling ballerina-pink blossoms for a month or more. There is a daily shower of papery husks, its cleanup gladly done, a small price for the gift of beauty on early winter days. 

Lift the November blues with the gift of sharing and society. Your local Horticultural Society holds regular meetings, fundraisers and workshops – a great way to spend an evening, meet some interesting people and learn something new.

November’s featured speaker is Sharon Bowler, author, historian, teacher and gardener. Sharon will present “Four Seasons of Winter Hardy Cactus”

Tuesday, November 5, 2024, Tillsonburg Seniors Centre, 7:30 pm. $20/year $4/meeting

“Come as guest, stay as a member.”

📷Sue

It’s still just dirt…October 2024

By Sue Healey – Tillsonburg Horticultural Society

Of all the gardening seasons, Autumn may be my favourite. I love it for its contrasts. Warm days filled with sunshine, mornings of sharp frost and swaths of colour in a rich and diverse palette. October hillsides are still awash in waves of golden rod. Their frothy flower heads break against the scarlet humps of sumac, forming eddies around the pools of purple asters. Along the roadsides native grasses nod their burnished heads in greeting as we pass. The browns are still golden and there is enough green to highlight all of it. October is bold and vibrant and all the more lovely for the frost to come. It’s a good month to be outside and an excellent one for garden work. Moderate temperatures and the eventual autumn rains make this an ideal time for garden projects whether they be renovations, additions or removals. 

While my own garden is full and well established there is always some plant that wants moving or sharing. Most plants prefer division in autumn when cool temperatures and rain make the move easier, for plant and gardener. Spring blooming plants; peonies, iris, rose, and clematis can all be moved now. Most of these have finished flowering and root disturbance won’t jeopardize the display. Late bloomers, think grape leaved anemones, chrysanthemums and sedum, would be better moved in spring. An early spring planting gives them time to reestablish themselves and still produce flowers in the same year. 

This year’s project includes the removal of a decade old peony(Paeonia). Peonies are long lived perennials that rarely need division. When they do, a strong back and a good set of garden forks will make the job easier. Working the forks gently around the clump will eventually pry it out. It’s always harder than I imagine. Those roots cling so desperately that I always have a moment of doubt! But it does let go after a few more rounds. Peony roots are both woody and brittle and are easily broken.Once out of the ground, they can be trimmed and separated intoIndividual crowns, each with 3-5 stalks or growing tips. Divisions should be replanted immediately with no more than 5 cm (2 inches) of soil covering growing tips. Planting any deeper results in foliage and no flowers.  As with all new plantings, water well and regularly until the ground freezes. Peonies may take a year or two to resume flowering after being disturbed but won’t need to be moved again for decades. 

Siberian and Japanese Iris are also on the list this year. Both need frequent division to remain vigorous and promote blooming. Siberian Iris (Iris siberica), with its fleur-de-lis blooms and grass like foliage is tough enough to handle being divided every 3-4 years. Clumps are lifted out whole and cut into manageable wedges using a sharp spade or knife. Japanese Iris (Iris ensata) stands up to the same treatment and will bloom the following spring without missing a beat. Both require rich, moisture retentive soil and full sun to produce years of spectacular blooms. 

Daylilies are among the few perennials that can be moved in either season. Hardy and resilient, daylilies will bounce back within weeks of replanting. Garden forks are the tool here again.I like to work my way around the plant – rocking, poking, pushing. Sometimes cajoling, sometimes swearing. A few rounds and eventually the centre moves, and once it does, you have it. After the clump is out of the ground, two garden forks, inserted back-to-back through the centre of the plant will pry it in two. This can be repeated on each section until you have the sizes you want. Smaller divisions fare better than large. 

Foliage plants such as Hosta, Bergenia and ferns are also best moved or divided in autumn. In early spring, newly emerging leaves are delicate and easily damaged. Whatever damage you do in spring is there all year. Better to divide them at the end of the season when leaves are at the end of their life. Hostas can be uprooted and divided in the same manner as daylilies, if a bit more gently. Treat Bergenia and ferns as you would peonies. Both plants have roots with growing tips that should be shallowly replanted. Rich soil that is consistently moist will result in healthy, vigorous growth.

Of course, there are always extras when you divide a plant. If space or time is at a premium, consider potting up those extra plantlets. Many trees, shrubs and perennials can be overwintered in pots if given the right conditions. A trench dug deep enough to sink the entire pot, backfilled with soil and covered in deep piles of snow will ensure your plants survive the winter. Easier to achieve, but riskier, is lining them against a wall or hedge and covering the pots with leaves to insulate against the cold. Come spring, you will have decisions to make and plants to give. Consider donating extras to the Tillsonburg Horticultural Society’s annual garden auction. The society is an excellent way to give your divisions a new home.

This month’s speaker is Ben Porchuk of Carolinian Canada. Just in time for fall planting, he will be sharing tips on how to use natives in our own gardens and outdoor spaces.

Tuesday, October 1, 2024, Tillsonburg Seniors Centre, 7:30 pm

$20/year $4/meeting

Come as guest, stay as a member.

📷 S Healey 

It’s still just dirt…September 2024

By Sue Healey – Tillsonburg Horticultural Society 

It’s when the sunlight turns golden that I know autumn has begun. That slanted light strikes differently. It shines across the stubbled fields, already shorn of their wealth, making them glow against the sky. It’s rich and clear. It signals that harvest is here and summer is fading. The garden is still green and blooming with late season gusto, but fall is coming. I feel it in the crisp, dewy mornings. See it in the clouds stacked across the sky. Frost will come and then snow. The garden will be made new with each shift of the weather. And with that shift I am thinking about the autumn and winter garden, contemplating what that late season might look like.

Years ago, September would have been the time to “put the garden to bed” in anticipation for the deep blanket of snow to come. Most perennials would have been cut to the ground, foliage and flower stalks too often crushed by the heavy layers or made anonymous under the white. With less reliable snow cover year after year, the garden beds have become more visible through the cold months. And so, over the last decade, September has become more about editing the garden than ending it. As it moves through autumn and winter, I’ve discovered that many plants offer another whole season or two of interest if left long enough. Coloured foliage, seed heads and even dried stalks can all provide interest and structure to the garden long after the cold temperatures have done away with flowers.

Although I diligently remove the seedheads of a great many of my plants, there are prized groups that I allow to set seed. Crocosmia Lucifer (Crocosmia) is at the very top of my list for year long interest. Tall and stately, this semi-hardy bulb produces flower stalks that can reach to a metre in height. The lipstick red flowers attract hummingbirds in late summer and then ripen to triple sided, knobby round pods that later crack to reveal rusty red or yellow seeds. 

Gas plant (Dictamnus alba) is another stellar perennial for early and late season interest. After blooming in spring, the waist high stems are spangled with star shaped seed pods. Each holds five black ball bearings, one per arm that in late summer are shot across the garden in an astonishing feat of propulsion. The empty pods dry to mellow tan and last through the winter. Peonies, if left to set seed produce zippered pods full of black teardrops that shine in the saturated light of autumn. Bush clematis (Clematis heracleifolia)rounds out this group and is well worth the space it needs. Late season blue bells change to silver-haired comets and then to black, knee-high sparklers by winter’s end, a cheerful celebration in the sunny garden.

Perennial Statice (Limonium), sometimes known as sea lavender, is a hardy, drought tolerant perennial grown for its multiple sprays of tiny blue or white blossoms and its beautiful foliage. The flowers are long lasting and feed a multitude over the summer, but it is a tap-rooted, self seeder in my sandy soil. I remove the spent sprays promptly to avoid the stubborn seedlings. Once revealed to the sun, the low growing, basal leaves develop patches of spectacular colour, an almost stained-glass effect of orange, red, and maroon over green. That show is fleeting but they dry to a rich cinnamon, twisting and turning in the cold, catching the frost delightfully. 

Good fall leaf colour can also be found in Bergenia (Bergenia cordifolia) if grown in enough sun. Bright crimson will slowly seep into the glossy, paddle shaped leaves over the fall, finally flooding it completely with deep red by first freeze. It’s a lovely sight in February when colour seems like a memory. My patch is well established and surprisingly drought tolerant. A cleanup of blackened leaves in the spring with a top dressing of compost will maintain this versatile plant for years. Look to the leaves of hardy geraniums (Geranium spp), balloon flower (Platycodon) and even Shastadaisies (Leucanthemum x superbum) for more splashes of late season colour.

Autumn is always bittersweet. September is the sweeter part of it. It’s good to be out again, to work and plan and bask in the golden light. And it’s good to leave some of the garden as it is.Letting what remains take us into another season, adding another layer of enjoyment and appreciation for the environment around us. 

Just in time for fall planning, the Tillsonburg Horticultural Society is back to regular meetings after the summer break. Feature presentation: “Lesser-Known Spring Bulbs” by Robert Pavlis, Master Gardener, author and YouTube star.

Tuesday, September 3, 2024, Tillsonburg Seniors Centre, 7:30 pm

$20/year $4/meeting

“Come as guest, stay as a member”

📷 Sue

It’s still just dirt…August 2024

By Sue Healey ~ Tillsonburg Horticultural Society 

August has arrived, as full and heavy as the storm clouds building on the horizon. This month will bring us all the bounty we’ve been working for. Where June is full of promise and July full of work, August is full of the fruits of our labour. It’s full of tomatoes on toast for lunch and peaches eaten over the sink. It’s a month of drowsy afternoons and suppers outside. A month oflong, slow twilights that melt into starry skies. August is so fulland the garden needs nothing more than my admiration. A good thing too, as the heat and humidity conspire to keep me to theshade, languid as an old cat. Only watering the pots is a priorityin this last month of summer. August is when most of my container gardens come into their own. As I go about the daily chore of watering, I am reminded of how important a garden feature they are. How potted plants extend the garden season beyond traditional time frames, plant materials, and colour schemes. Whatever the situation, there is most likely a pot full of plants that would it make it better.

My collection of container gardens is large and varied, acombination of houseplants and annuals, punctuated with specimen plants that come indoors over winter. Planted in a range of sizes and types, placed in full sun to full shade, these pots become a second and third tier to the main garden. They bring greenery to paved areas around the house and provide a welcome at both entries. One of my favourite full sun plantingsthis year combines dwarf banana (Musa Tropicana) with theannual million bells (Calibrachoa) in a searing, pinky-orange. Both are highlighted by the silver needles of licorice plant(Helichrysum). The banana leaves are splotched with maroon,echoing the colour of the calibrachoa throats as they spill over the edge of the urn or twine their way through the licorice plant’s icy branches. This planting shines at the far end of the garden and is a combination to repeat in years to come.  

For troubled areas like our front porch, container gardens can be the only solution. A cold, northern exposure that is dark for most of the day, this part of the house also gets scorched each afternoon by full sun. That strong, and increasingly hot sunshineoften burns the delicate shade lovers that do well in low light. This year’s coleus collection and eyelash begonia is handling that difficult transition with aplomb. One coleus is a standout and has already been trimmed for cuttings. 

This one comes unnamed with leaves of rusty copper that are opalescent in sunshine. The large leaves age to a sweet, sunset pink, serratedin lime green. It’s partnered with another coleus of deep maroon, with lime green flower bracts that further echo the streaks on the begonia. Button fern adds an airy quality and a lone variegateddracaena (Dracaena reflexa), height. All of it, a fabulous combination and a colour scheme that could be expanded on for different situations or plant availability.

Some of my most successful outdoor planters have been with succulents. Their hardy nature, drought and heat tolerance make them ideal candidates for containers. There are a myriad of plant profiles and habits so that whole landscapes can be created in a single container. Given proper care many succulents can live for decades and will reveal enhanced leaf colour or even bloom when summered outdoors. 

This year’s best example is a grouping of African milk tree (Euphorbia trigona) which, after 3 years in a 5-gallon tub, now towers above a red tipped jade tree (Crassula ovata) and striped Aloe (Aloe variegata). These are fronted by starfish sansevieria (Sansevieria Cylindrica) which has sent it’s cylindrical leaves in amongst the milk tree’s branches in search of room to grow. A miniature landscape contained in pot. And when those plants need room to grow, easily reproduced as specimens in separate vessels but groupedtogether, making a greater visual impact and watering more efficient.

Whether it is a pot full annuals, a kitchen garden by the back door or a collection of houseplants on their summer holiday, container gardens give us as much pleasure as any garden bed and often a better range of choices. Planters can fill the empty spots left by those plants that die back after flowering or provide a focal point to an otherwise drab area. Easily changeable outover the seasons, they add colour, shape and texture to otherwise bare spaces. They give us license to experiment and maybe best of all, reason to get out of the shade.

Next general meeting is September 3, 2024 at 7:30, Tillsonburg Senior Centre. Master Gardener Robert Pavlis will present “Lesser-Known Spring Bulbs.” All welcome. Membership $20/year or $4/ meeting. Come as a guest, stay as a member.

📷Sue 

It’s still just dirt…July 2024

By Sue Healey

July is upon us and with it, high summer’s long, warm days. Blue skies and warm breezes beckon us away from our regular lives to the beach, ice-cream stand, or hammock. After all the bustle of spring and early summer July can feel almost hushed in comparison. Most of our early work is done and the burst of blooms has given way to a more sedate palette of green. A nap in the shade is one of the finest pleasures in life and in this month, there is time for them. But the garden also beckons and there is always something to be done if you look long enough. Over the years I have learned to appreciate the work of a garden. The benefits are many; physical, emotional, and environmental. Interacting with our natural environment not only moves our bodies, but it also moves our mood – I have rarely come out of the garden worse than when I went in. So, I love July for the chance to take my time at my chores. For quiet moments in amongst the plants. To think of nothing and everything and maybe discover something new. 

The hot, dry weather of July are perfect conditions to addressweeds you might have missed in early spring. A thorough clean up in early to mid July will stop many of the worst annual and perennial weeds from going to seed. As cliché as it may sound,“one years seeding, seven years weeding” is simple truth. Removing unwanted plants before they set seed is half the battle. As a garden matures and plants shade the ground around them there will be less, and less maintenance but some weeds will always find a way in. Regular weeding decreases their numbers and how difficult they are to remove. A good sharp steak knife makes an excellent weeding tool for work in amongst plants. And while you are there you may be lucky (andstill) enough to spot others at their work. I have spied leaf cutter bees slicing half moons out of the red bud leaves and native carpenter bees shaving the fuzz from rose campion stalks. I’vecaught mama rabbits under the peonies and dragonflies at their afternoon slumber. 

The removal of spent flowerheads, also known as deadheading,is chore that really isn’t one. Many spring blooming plants have finished flowering and stalks can now be removed. For those plants that are a bit exuberant in their sprawl (Campanula, Stachys, Muscari) deadheading is an effective way to keep them contained. A decent pair (or two) of secateurs will make quick work of most stalks. Daylilies are the star of July and a joy to deadhead. The gentle and methodical removal of the spent flowers is my favourite way to decompress after the workdayand I look forward to the daily task. Daylilies each have their ways, and some are better than others. My mango daylily is my favourite to deadhead, as satisfying as plucking ripe fruit. I save it for guests if I can. The reds and deep purple varieties like to be groomed in the morning, their faded blossoms leaving your fingers stained with their dye. Others will drop at the slightest touch. You can, of course, leave them to their own devices. The spent flowers will eventually dry and fall on their own and be no worse for wear beyond an occasional dried bloom stuck to a new bud. As with most deadheading, it is a general tidying before the late summer wave of bloom.

Daffodill foliage is still ripening into July and can be unattractive as it yellows and flops. Tucking the leaves among later blooming plants hides them as they mature. Tulip foliage needs time as well but by mid July can be removed with a gentle tug of the stiff brown stem – another satisfying sensation. Allium and any of the early spring flowering bulbs are treated in the same way. If you’re of a mind to divide your bulbs, any time after the leaves have withered is the time to do it. Bulbs can be dried, sorted and replanted immediately or stored in a cool, dry place until planting in early fall.

If the spring has been wet and the growth lush, as it has been this year, early July is the time to thin plants for air circulation. Peonies, tall garden phlox, and Monarda are all prone to powdery mildew. Thin out overcrowded plants by removing a few stalks to increase air movement and mitigate both disease and pests. As the season moves on and the late summer show begins, plants that are past their flowering stage or tattered can be trimmed back to give late bloomers their moment in the spotlight.

That is enough work to warrant a nap. If you can do only one or two chores before you are off, make it weeding or watering, whichever is most necessary. And if you don’t have enough garden work of your own, your local Horticultural Society certainly does. Volunteers are always welcome and celebrated as the great gift they are. THS regular meetings are on summer pause until September, but you can contact them through their web and social media sites.

📷 S Healey

It’s still just dirt…May 2024

By Sue Healey, Tillsonburg Horticultural Society 

Orange?

When The Ontario Horticultural Association announced that the 2024 colour of the year was orange, you may have asked the question – Orange? It’s the question I’m usually asked when revealing that my favourite colour is and always has been, orange. So, I would like to congratulate the OHA on an excellent choice and use this occasion to sing the praises of a highly underrated and underused colour. 

I have loved orange for decades, beginning in my teens when theglorious harvest sunrises would light my way to the fields and sometimes, when frost was close, sunsets to light my way home. Those big skies gave me an appreciation for how changeable and broad this colour was; it was warm, cool, bold, and soft. In the garden I have used and loved this wonderful colour from the very beginning. Orange punctuates a planting, instilling a sense of movement and vigour. It pairs with a broad range of colours, warm and cool both. Throughout the seasons good examples can be found in annuals, perennials, trees, and shrubs. Whether it floods the petals, or outlines an edge, orange isexciting, enticing and worthy of the title, colour of the year.

Spring brings the warmth of orange to our gardens with Crown Imperials (fritillaria imperialis) and species tulips. Both add a bold and clear colour element to the end of daffodil season. The perennial tulip, Darwin “Apeldoorn” is a glowing orange – just what we need to jolt us awake after a winter’s greyness. The Geum family, a large and varied group of low mounding plants boasts a fine assortment of bright to pale orange blooms. Bloom time bridges the gap between tulips and peonies. Late blooming wood hyacinths or early irises make pleasingcompanions to any of the spring oranges.

Summer belongs to the romance of roses, and none are as good for shades of orange as David Austin roses. This group boasts colour, repeat bloom, excellent fragrance, and hardiness. “Port Sunlight” is a soft yellow double with a warm, apricot centre and enchanting lemon scent. I partner it with sky blue perennial flax (Linum perrene) for a two week show that has me visiting daily. The next wave of orange isin July with the sumptuous display of Daylilies (Hemerocallis). Offering a wide range of luscious fruit colours; mango, apricot, peach,and melon, some have streaks, some have frills, all are wonderful in their way. My favourite daylily pairing is one of a mango-coloureddaylily set in front of a matte purple smoke bush – a combination to stop you in your tracks. For a cooler, more sedate picture, orange and green are an easy and elegant combination. Add a little silver and you have created the herbal version of a creamsicle. Miscanthus “Morning Light,” a well-behaved grass plays a backup roll to a clear orange daylily and Russian sage (pervoskia) in one of my favourite and enduring groupings. And even with pink, orange can sing (although I’ve heard it said otherwise); think of a stand of mixed zinnias at the height of summer, all ablaze with colour and butterflies – who would walk away from such a happy riot?  

As autumn moves in, combinations of orange and yellow bring warmth and comfort to the garden. Marigolds and sunflowers, helenium andcrocosmia all add touches of flame. Mexican sunflower (tithonia) is a vibrant orange-red annual, tall and bold enough to mix with late season grasses. Add red and the garden becomes fiery; easy to do when leaves are changing. Asters in shades of blues are especially lovely as a counterpoint to all that rich colour.

Winter gives us a chance to use different plants, or even parts of plants as highlights in the garden during an otherwise dormant time of year. Bark and stem colour becomes more prominent against snow or dark earth. Sedums such as “Angelina” show exceptional winter colouring, the normally apple green stems tipped in neon orange are a glowing winter delight. Paperbark Maple (acer griseum) shows off vibrant fall foliage and peeling, metallic orange bark and is small enough in stature to be included in most suburban yards. I hope you take this opportunityto explore this dynamic colour, try some new combinations and break a few old rules. 

If you need inspiration or are looking for more orange options, the 16thAnnual Tillsonburg Horticultural Society Plant Auction and Sale will be held on May 21, 2024, at the Lion’s auditorium. There will be plant, veggie, bake and prize tables along with live auction of great garden merchandise. Open to all, the doors open at 5:00pm.

It’s Still Just Dirt

By Sue Healey

April 2024

“April, come she will.”

“When streams are ripe and swelled with rain”. So sings Art Garfunkel in one of my favourite songs of the season (there are few). That pure, crystalline voice always evokes pictures of snowbanks dripping into rushing waters under a brilliant winter sky. As March leaves us, cold and damp with a final, inevitable, dumping of snow, and April is forecast to be rainy, there won’t be many brilliant skies but plenty of swollen streams.

All that water has me thinking and digging into rain gardens. I’ve been hearing the term more often in the last few years, usually in relation to native gardening and urban runoff. On a late winter day, watching the water rush down my street and into the storm drain, I decided to explore a gardener’s way to save that water.

A rain garden is simply that, a garden designed for the rain. More nuanced, it is a collection of plants designed to collect and filter water that would otherwise run overland, into storm drains and eventually into our waterways. This water often sweeps pollutants, debris, and soil along with it leading to the poisoning of aquatic flora and fauna. Rain gardens also help prevent the erosion that so often happens with sudden and intense rainstorms. Usually consisting of plants that tolerate periods of heavy moisture, native species are particularly well suited for rain gardens. Best situated away from buildings, they can be incorporated into areas where water naturally pools, using what is already a feature of the landscape. Gardens can be as large or as small as needed and are relatively easy to achieve; dig out a concave area, partially backfill it with a mixture of black earth and sand, and plant with your choice of species. The Toronto and Region Conservation Authority (TRCA) has published a comprehensive rain garden guide with detailed plans that are easy to understand and free to print or download. They also offer a long list of recommended plants that range from shrubs such as red-osier dogwood (Cornus sericea) and elderberry (Sambucus canadensis) to low and tall grasses like tufted hairgrass (Deschampsia cespitosa) and big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii). There are also numerous flowering plants to choose from; butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberose), spotted Joe-pye weed (Eupatorium maculatum), New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae) and black-eye Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) to name a few of the sun lovers. If you have a more shaded spot, white turtlehead (Chelone glabra) will do better.

My rain garden would be situated in the area where my rain barrel overflows. I’ve been eyeing it up for the last few years and think it has the potential to be a great rain garden. There is already a small garden in the space, but it’s in need of an overhaul. I grow a number of the plants mentioned in the guide and may end up moving some divisions of Joe-pye weed and black-eyed Susan. I am however, intrigued by those grasses and may choose a variety of natives, perhaps mulched with gravel to further help drainage. This garden would share the space with a clothes line that has no plans of moving. Low profile grasses that wouldn’t  interfere with waving sheets may be the answer to more than the overflowing rain barrel. As always, any digging would be done after good research and only when the soil is workable. As tempting as April sunshine can be, soil temperatures need to be warm enough to accept those eventual additions.

Regardless of what I choose to plant, the rain garden will help store the water I can’t. The garden will save, purify it, use it to nourish the plants that will in turn, help feed and house pollinators and who will, in their turn, become food for a host of other bird and wildlife, who will continue the cycle. April showers will then bring so much more than just flowers.  

And before any major digging, I’ll be doing some warmup with my local Horticultural Society. April’s speaker is Chris Streib, registered physiotherapist, and owner of Talbot Trail Physio. Chris will show us how to “Bend like a Sapling, Not Break like a Twig…”

Meeting begins Tuesday, April 2, at 7:30pm. All welcome. Membership $20/year or $4/ meeting. Come as a guest, stay as a member.

It’s Still Just Dirt

By Sue Healey

March 2024

The season begins.

March always has me scanning the horizon. On the commute home, on trips with my family, anywhere I can, I track the setting sun for signs that the days are finally getting longer. Each day, the sun is a little higher over the barn roofs. More daylight and warming weather kindles in me a restlessness and a familiar urge to get into the garden. I want to dig. Alas, March is too soon to be out, no matter the air temperature. You’ll do more harm than good in that cold and still slumbering soil.

Some gardeners feed that need by nursing seedlings and have been at it for weeks. While I thoroughly encourage the endeavour, limits to time, space, and attention affect how much each of us can grow. March can leave us feeling a bit lost and left behind. What are we to do with our fingers itching for the dirt and noses twitching for the smell of earth and water?

I look again, to my windowsills, scanning my ledges for those plants in need of repotting. The pining or wilting, the ones practically climbing out of their pots. Or the cuttings by my kitchen window that have been rooting in water all winter. These are the first. And this is the beginning of the season for me. I start small, and ease into, stretch out, my favourite time of the year. Larger specimens I leave for later, when the outdoors is an option and the mess matters less.

This year I have a very divergent group that needs my attention; a sansevieria cylindrica (African Spear) which wants fast draining but rich soil, a ficus benjamina (Fig tree), and offshoots of pilea peperomiodes (Money plant), both of which need moister soil. Whatever the mix of plants is, there are a few basic rules that generally apply and make a good starting point if you are new to the game. As with most things in life, there are exceptions and good research is always recommended.

Plants should generally be given a new and larger pot when the roots have filled their container. Young plants and fast growers usually require an annual repotting but as they mature, can live in their quarters for two to five years before needing another move. You will eventually be restricted by pot size. All containers, whatever they are made of, should have drainage holes to allow excess water to escape and be only one size larger than the old one. Too big and roots cannot use up all the water they are sitting in before rotting. Potting soil that is lightweight, sterile and contains a slow-release fertilizer will be suitable for most plants. There are a few; orchids, cacti, and succulents, that prefer a specialty mix of soil which are also readily available. Plastic sheets on tables and floors help protect surfaces and make cleanup a breeze. The actual trick of repotting is easy; fill your new pot ¼ of the way with new soil, remove the plant from the old pot. If the roots are twining in a circle, gently tease them apart. Place the plant in the new pot ensuring that the crown or stem sits at the same soil level as it did in the old pot. Add more soil around the root ball, gently compacting it with your fingers as you fill it. Water thoroughly to remove air pockets and add soil to any pockets revealed. Put them in some light and leave them be for a week before you water again.

You can do as many as you like for as long as you have supplies. Over the years I have repotted the same plants many times and each time I’m amazed at their growth, at their continued beauty and I’m always grateful that I was able to be a part of it. It’s a good way to scratch that itch in March, enough of a start until true spring arrives.

For more answers to these and other burning questions, join the Tillsonburg Horticultural Society on March 5th for their monthly general meeting featuring the “March Plant Madness and the Panel of Knowledge”

Meeting begins at 7:30pm, all welcome. Membership 20/year or $4/ meeting. 

It’s Still Just Dirt

By Sue Healey, Tillsonburg Horticultural Society

February 2024

A garden for every window ~

February can be a hard month to endure in Southwestern Ontario. Even though it’s a short one, this month seems to drag on and on. We are deep into the winter and spring seems a long way off. We’ve had storms, and real winter driving, already there are too many coats and boots in the back hall and too many puddles to be avoided. But if there is snow and sun, February can be fine, dazzling even. If it’s overcast, as so much of January was, we must search a little harder for brightness.

I look to my windows and the houseplants crowded around each one for my dose of brightness. Potted plants were my first horticultural love. Having no access or funding for an outdoor garden, I began with one potted succulent: String of Pearls. It was dead within a month, but not before it had me hooked. In the intervening 30 years there have been more successes than failures and my collection now contains many old friends. I am fortunate enough to have unobstructed windows on three sides: north, east, and south. None are as large as I’d like but we make do, as gardeners must, and each window now hosts its own unique, attendant garden.

Northern windows offer a soft, indirect light and is the weakest of the four. Ficus and ferns, both of which do well in less light live comfortably side by side. To boost humidity pebble trays filled with water, are scattered among the pots, receiving a watering whenever the living things do. Rabbits foot fern (polypodium aureum) is a great fern for the indoors. Able to survive in drier conditions, rounded, silvery fronds stand above hairy, brown rhizomes (hence the common name) that crawl across the surface of the soil. Rex Begonias fit in nicely here, their broad leaves adding flashes of colour among the greenery. Consistent moisture is key to Begonia health. Smaller leaved “eyelash” begonias are as hardy as they come and easily propagated from leaf cuttings.

Southern and Western windows offer plentiful, intense light. This is a prime location for sun lovers such as succulents, euphorbias and peperomia, some even blooming during the winter months. Gasteria, with their ridged stacks of spikes, is one of the easiest succulents to grow and sends out tall stems, adorned with delicate bells throughout the winter. The family is a huge one and cultivars come in a variety of sizes and textures. Euphorbia too, is a vast family, containing unique and often imposing, architectural plants that thrive in the dry, winter conditions so commonly found indoors.

But in February, the east window is my favourite. Here is where and when the orchids bloom. The morning light, humidity level, night-time temperature and weekly watering have combined to give them what they want. They reward me with blooms that last until spring. Beginning in late January, the stems begin to stretch towards the light, shy little buds already formed but held close. Throughout the month of February, the buds fatten until at last they unfurl into rounded, pristine blossoms with faces like dragons. Mine are Moth Orchids (Phalaenopsis), the easiest of the lot to grow. Coming in a wide range of colours and patterns, they’re also the easiest to obtain. They like it warm during the day and cooler at night, no wet feet, and a washing of the leaves periodically. Orchids will rest between bloom periods but should be cared for regularly during this period. Given the correct conditions plants can bloom annually for decades. Moth orchids are just a gateway plant into a genus that is as varied as it is vast. There are around 25,000 species that make up the orchid family, each one a marvel of colour and form and often, scent.

Whether you have one window or many there is a plant for you. There is a wide range of easily accessible specimens for every situation. Artificial lighting has come so far in the last decade that you don’t even need windows to grow beautiful, healthy plants. I believe that everyone should care for a green thing. They are good for us. A plant’s tenacity and ingenuity inspire consideration and wonder. Their fragility reminds us that all things need care. Many a visitor has left my home carrying one of my plants and I in turn, have left many with a gift of my own. These gifts are what line my windowsills. They remind me of the giver and brighten the dullest winter’s day.

Learn how to make more plants at the Tillsonburg Horticultural Society’s general meeting on the first Tuesday of the month. February’s speaker is Denise Hodgkins who will be discussing propagation methods. For members of the society, there will be a seed swap starting at 6:30 the same evening. Bring some of your collected seed and leave with something new!

“Dreaming about the garden!”

By Sue Healey, Tillsonburg Horticultural Society

Here we are at the beginning of 2024; a new year, a new season, and a new hand behind “It’s Still Just Dirt”.

After many years and countless articles Angela Lassam has passed the torch, ready to try her hand at something different. I thank her for the knowledge she passed on. She introduced me to subjects that I had never considered before.

New considerations. That’s what I like best about January. Especially January in the garden. In the garden the first month of the year isn’t one of new beginnings or resolutions, it’s a quiet, in-between time. A time when all the work of a garden is either in the past or in the future. There is no weeding, watering, no sowing, or sodding.  It’s a time of afternoon naps and dreaming. Dreaming of what the garden could be or should be or will be. Full of promise and choice. Everything is worth considering in the cold, still days and oh so early nights of January.

For fuel and fodder there is nothing better for garden dreams than garden books. I want mine full of gorgeous photos and good information.  For many years I never seemed to get to the library, but my husband did and always returned with a selection of gardening books to peruse at my leisure. It became my favourite way to spend Sunday morning and is a cherished memory.

Whether they come as holiday gifts, loans from the library or as audio books, garden reading is always worth the time. There is something new to be learned or old to be reminded of. My dreams this year include rain gardens, and wasp houses, xeriscapes (dry gardens), a cutting garden, bonsai trees, flagstone paths… You can see where a January afternoon might lead.

My January list of reading includes both paper, digital and audio books.  Some are old favourites that I return to year after year, and some are new like Noel Kingsbury and Piet Oudolf’s “Planting: A New Perspective”.  This one had me at the cover photo, the intertwining of plants and layering of colour is how I like it.

Amazon’s description of the book as “an essential resource for designers and gardeners looking to create plant-rich, beautiful gardens that support biodiversity and nourish the human spirit” tells me I’ll find something worth noting beyond the usual garden advice.

For my commute I’ve chosen an audio version of Suzanne Simard’s “Finding the Mother Tree: discovering the Wisdom of the Forest”.  Simard is mentioned in other books I’ve read; “The Hidden Life of Trees” and “Entangled Life” and I now have finally made my way to it.

Audible describes the author, “Simard is a pioneer on the frontier of plant communication and intelligence, is hailed as a scientist who conveys complex, technical ideas in a way that is dazzling and profound.” ‘Plant communication and intelligence,’ how can you not be curious?

One of my beloved old favourites? It’s both a feast for the eyes and brain: “Taylor’s Encyclopedia of Garden Plants” turned 20 years old last year, but is still an excellent reference guide to a huge selection of annuals, perennials, and trees. I usually turn to it first when researching a new plant.

And when my eyes tire or the headphones become irritating, or I just need a little human contact I go to our Tillsonburg Horticultural meeting. I encourage you to drop in as a guest and stay as a member. There are horticultural societies in most towns that offer monthly meetings, a host of resources and a base of knowledge to rival any library. Check out our local Tillsonburg Horticultural Society’s website https://tillsonburghorticultural.ca/ for meeting times, speakers, and the projects they have on the go.

This January, I hope you will join me and spend the cold nights dreaming about the garden and investigating whether it’s still just dirt.