Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Fire and rain
We returned from our trip through Louisiana and Mississippi (and flirting with Tennessee) to find our yard even drier than we had left it and wildfires raging in the adjoining counties. And today the hot stuff REALLY begins because this is the first day of summer.
Everywhere that we traveled while visiting family and friends, the countryside looked lush and green compared to what we have become used to seeing here. This was true even though some of those places had been dry recently, too. The difference was that they had received plenty of rain in winter and early spring.
Along our route through Louisiana, the Atchayfalaya Basin and adjacent swamps and streams were full of water giving a jungle appearance to the land. The Mississippi River was still stretching to the top of its banks, as were most of the smaller rivers along the way. In short, we saw plenty of water and it was a wonderful sight.
But it wasn't only rivers, swamps, lakes, and reservoirs. The first night that we spent in North Mississippi, it rained! I cannot even describe what joy it was to hear that sound and see those drops. It rained pretty steadily all night and on until the afternoon of the next day. Area gardeners and farmers could count 1.5 to 2.5 inches of rain, depending on where they were located. Afterward, the countryside looked washed clean in a way that we haven't experienced here at home in Texas in so many months now.
Throughout the roadsides that we traveled, black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne's lace, the native butterfly weed and phlox, as well as the naturalized ditch lilies, bloomed in gay profusion. It was enough to gladden the heart of any passing gardener and it certainly gladdened mine.
Much as we enjoyed our trip, it is always good to come home again, even to a super-dry garden that seems on the edge of disaster. The weather forecasters assure me there is a chance of rain this week. We'll see.
Everywhere that we traveled while visiting family and friends, the countryside looked lush and green compared to what we have become used to seeing here. This was true even though some of those places had been dry recently, too. The difference was that they had received plenty of rain in winter and early spring.
Along our route through Louisiana, the Atchayfalaya Basin and adjacent swamps and streams were full of water giving a jungle appearance to the land. The Mississippi River was still stretching to the top of its banks, as were most of the smaller rivers along the way. In short, we saw plenty of water and it was a wonderful sight.
But it wasn't only rivers, swamps, lakes, and reservoirs. The first night that we spent in North Mississippi, it rained! I cannot even describe what joy it was to hear that sound and see those drops. It rained pretty steadily all night and on until the afternoon of the next day. Area gardeners and farmers could count 1.5 to 2.5 inches of rain, depending on where they were located. Afterward, the countryside looked washed clean in a way that we haven't experienced here at home in Texas in so many months now.
Throughout the roadsides that we traveled, black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne's lace, the native butterfly weed and phlox, as well as the naturalized ditch lilies, bloomed in gay profusion. It was enough to gladden the heart of any passing gardener and it certainly gladdened mine.
Much as we enjoyed our trip, it is always good to come home again, even to a super-dry garden that seems on the edge of disaster. The weather forecasters assure me there is a chance of rain this week. We'll see.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Blog-cation
I'm going to be on the road for the next several days and mostly away from my laptop, so posting here will be rare or maybe nonexistent. If I encounter any rain on my travels, I'll try to send it on this way.
Keep doing those rain dances and stay cool!
Keep doing those rain dances and stay cool!
Friday, June 10, 2011
The trees are dying
When we made a trip to Texas A&M a couple of weeks ago, I couldn't help noticing that many trees along our route seemed to be dead or dying. Since then, I've been paying attention whenever I'm out and about and trying to notice if the trees of our area are losing their battle with the drought. After a trip into Houston today, I've reached the firm conclusion that many of them are.
All along the way, I kept seeing trees that had turned brown and appeared dead or were turning brown and seemed to be dying. My observation was that the pines seemed to be the most affected species but other trees were suffering as well.
I've even noticed here, near my home, close to Spring Creek, several trees have already turned brown. One would think that trees near the creek would be able to access water and weather the drought, but evidently one would be wrong in that assumption. Of course, the marshy, swampy, backwater areas that border the creek are completely dry now and the creek itself is a mere shadow of its former self. It's getting quite desperate out there.
In my own yard, I have many large trees and there is no way I can give them the water that they need. No doubt they take some of the water that I occasionally give to the beds near them, but that is a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to what a big tree needs to live. I can only hope that their roots are deep enough to find the water that they need, and, indeed, so far they all seem to be holding their own. Not my apple tree though.
Yesterday, my old apple tree that we planted more than twenty years ago split right down the middle and half of it fell to the ground. I knew that the tree was diseased and I thought that I would probably have to have it taken down next winter, but I was hoping it would make it through this season. It was absolutely loaded with apples as it never had been before. In fact, the weight of the fruit may have been the final straw that contributed to its splitting. I am sure that the lack of water also hastened its demise, even though, as my husband said when he saw it, we knew it was just a matter of time.
All the trees are under stress as they struggle to find water and to diminish the lose of water through their leaves, and it is stressful for the gardener, too, knowing that there just isn't much one can do to help the big guys.
We can help the smaller trees though, and I have several of those, too - fruit trees and shrubs that I added last winter and early spring. I'm working hard to keep them watered and hoping that I will be able to pull them through. Some have a few brown limbs but so far most seem to be coping.
This drought continues to try our nerves and our skills as gardeners as it tries the survival tactics of our trees. Most of my trees are oaks or magnolias - tough guys of the southern landscape. As the drought grinds on, we'll see just how tough they really are.
All along the way, I kept seeing trees that had turned brown and appeared dead or were turning brown and seemed to be dying. My observation was that the pines seemed to be the most affected species but other trees were suffering as well.
I've even noticed here, near my home, close to Spring Creek, several trees have already turned brown. One would think that trees near the creek would be able to access water and weather the drought, but evidently one would be wrong in that assumption. Of course, the marshy, swampy, backwater areas that border the creek are completely dry now and the creek itself is a mere shadow of its former self. It's getting quite desperate out there.
In my own yard, I have many large trees and there is no way I can give them the water that they need. No doubt they take some of the water that I occasionally give to the beds near them, but that is a drop in the proverbial bucket compared to what a big tree needs to live. I can only hope that their roots are deep enough to find the water that they need, and, indeed, so far they all seem to be holding their own. Not my apple tree though.
Yesterday, my old apple tree that we planted more than twenty years ago split right down the middle and half of it fell to the ground. I knew that the tree was diseased and I thought that I would probably have to have it taken down next winter, but I was hoping it would make it through this season. It was absolutely loaded with apples as it never had been before. In fact, the weight of the fruit may have been the final straw that contributed to its splitting. I am sure that the lack of water also hastened its demise, even though, as my husband said when he saw it, we knew it was just a matter of time.
All the trees are under stress as they struggle to find water and to diminish the lose of water through their leaves, and it is stressful for the gardener, too, knowing that there just isn't much one can do to help the big guys.
We can help the smaller trees though, and I have several of those, too - fruit trees and shrubs that I added last winter and early spring. I'm working hard to keep them watered and hoping that I will be able to pull them through. Some have a few brown limbs but so far most seem to be coping.
This drought continues to try our nerves and our skills as gardeners as it tries the survival tactics of our trees. Most of my trees are oaks or magnolias - tough guys of the southern landscape. As the drought grinds on, we'll see just how tough they really are.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
The heat zone
The American Horticultural Society identifies 86 degrees F. as the temperature at which plants start to suffer damage from high temperatures. When you combine high temperatures with prolonged, unrelieved drought, what do you get? Well, looking around my garden, I can tell you. You get plants that are normally considered "tough" that are being stressed to the limits of their endurance. Some of them aren't going to make it.
I have already lost more plants to the drought and heat than I lost to the cold in our last two winters. As I was hand-watering some plants in my yard a few days ago, I was surprised to notice that my oldest beautyberry shrub had several brown limbs and appeared to be in dire stress. Yet, about ten feet away, another beautyberry - my white-berried shrub - looked perfectly fine and was full of blooms. Thinking about it, I decided that the old shrub's stress is probably caused by the fact that it is between my apple tree and a cherry tree on my neighbor's side of fence. It's having to fight it out with those two trees for water and it is losing the battle.
When temperatures are above 86 and plants are aspirating water through their leaves at a high rate, the battle for water to replenish that moisture can become a fight to the death, and having already hit 100 degrees F. here in early June, that is what I am seeing in my garden.
I went looking for more information about plants' ability to withstand heat and found something that, in my ignorance, I didn't know existed. We are all pretty familiar, I think, with the USDA's plant hardiness zone map. Any gardener worth his/her salt can tell you in which zone he/she resides. But did you know that there is a heat zone map also? You won't usually see it referred to on plant tags, but it does exist, and the zones are based on the average number of days in the year when the temperature is above 86.
There are twelve zones as indicated by this list, and here's what Southeast Texas looks like on the map:
Our entire area is in zone 9, which means that we generally have between 120-150 days in the year that are above 86 degrees. I suspect we are going to hit the higher mark or maybe exceed it this year.
How does this knowledge help us in our gardening plans and practices? Gardeners could be generally divided into two categories: traditional or daring. Traditional gardeners try to choose plants that they know are suited to their zone and will do well there. Daring gardeners love to push the envelope a bit (or sometimes a lot) and grow plants that are really not meant for their area. Considering those two catergories, I suppose I would be considered traditional, (although in other areas of my life, I like to think of myself as a daring rebel!) but at times like these, even a traditional philosophy of gardening will be tested.
I suppose the Anazazi of the arid Southwest, who certainly adhered to a traditional philosophy of farming, must have been tested in much the same way when the long drought that put an end to their blossoming civilization ground on without relief year after dry year. I've been thinking about those Anazazi farmers a lot lately.
We certainly have access to a lot more information and a lot more tools than the Anazazi ever did, and no matter what type of gardener you are, looking around a local nursery can lead you to believe that your choices are endless. But knowing something about your hardiness and heat zones can guide you to make wiser choices. And observing the plants in your current garden, the winners and the losers, can give even more guidance when making your future plans. I know I'm going to have a lot to consider before adding any new plants to my garden.
I have already lost more plants to the drought and heat than I lost to the cold in our last two winters. As I was hand-watering some plants in my yard a few days ago, I was surprised to notice that my oldest beautyberry shrub had several brown limbs and appeared to be in dire stress. Yet, about ten feet away, another beautyberry - my white-berried shrub - looked perfectly fine and was full of blooms. Thinking about it, I decided that the old shrub's stress is probably caused by the fact that it is between my apple tree and a cherry tree on my neighbor's side of fence. It's having to fight it out with those two trees for water and it is losing the battle.
When temperatures are above 86 and plants are aspirating water through their leaves at a high rate, the battle for water to replenish that moisture can become a fight to the death, and having already hit 100 degrees F. here in early June, that is what I am seeing in my garden.
I went looking for more information about plants' ability to withstand heat and found something that, in my ignorance, I didn't know existed. We are all pretty familiar, I think, with the USDA's plant hardiness zone map. Any gardener worth his/her salt can tell you in which zone he/she resides. But did you know that there is a heat zone map also? You won't usually see it referred to on plant tags, but it does exist, and the zones are based on the average number of days in the year when the temperature is above 86.
There are twelve zones as indicated by this list, and here's what Southeast Texas looks like on the map:
Our entire area is in zone 9, which means that we generally have between 120-150 days in the year that are above 86 degrees. I suspect we are going to hit the higher mark or maybe exceed it this year.
How does this knowledge help us in our gardening plans and practices? Gardeners could be generally divided into two categories: traditional or daring. Traditional gardeners try to choose plants that they know are suited to their zone and will do well there. Daring gardeners love to push the envelope a bit (or sometimes a lot) and grow plants that are really not meant for their area. Considering those two catergories, I suppose I would be considered traditional, (although in other areas of my life, I like to think of myself as a daring rebel!) but at times like these, even a traditional philosophy of gardening will be tested.
I suppose the Anazazi of the arid Southwest, who certainly adhered to a traditional philosophy of farming, must have been tested in much the same way when the long drought that put an end to their blossoming civilization ground on without relief year after dry year. I've been thinking about those Anazazi farmers a lot lately.
We certainly have access to a lot more information and a lot more tools than the Anazazi ever did, and no matter what type of gardener you are, looking around a local nursery can lead you to believe that your choices are endless. But knowing something about your hardiness and heat zones can guide you to make wiser choices. And observing the plants in your current garden, the winners and the losers, can give even more guidance when making your future plans. I know I'm going to have a lot to consider before adding any new plants to my garden.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
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