Gardeners in cold climates have learned to extend the growing season by building greenhouses.
It’s that time of year again when amaryllis, Christmas cactus and poinsettias appear in stores and find their way into our homes.
This year, in late November, we are still enjoying the colors of autumn and the last treats from the vegetable garden. This is uncharacteristically late even for the Champlain Valley.
Vermont gardening guru Charlie Nardozzi recently published a book called No-Dig Gardening. In its October e-newsletter, the Vermont Center for Ecostudies recommends Leaf It Be, “a low-intensity yard maintenance practice
Conserving water is always a good idea, and if the dry weather of the last two summers is any indication, such practice should become habit.
It occurred to me as I’ve read about the dedicated volunteers working at Charlotte’s Park (formerly Demeter) and the Library’s rain garden that I’ve neglected the cause of “native plants.”
If you are like me, you assume that every time an insect meets a plant, that insect will eat that plant. And yes, you’ve heard of insectivorous plants, but those are typically not in your backyard.
As we continue to practice social distancing to avoid the coronavirus, I think daily how grateful I am to be living in Vermont, and in Charlotte in particular, where most of us can walk out our doors for fresh air and a closer look at the natural world around us.
May! It’s here with its wonder and beauty of colors and fresh aromas, bird song and hope. It also brings chores as one of the busiest months in a gardener’s life. The much appreciated rain we’ve had made everything jump with growth and reminded us we need to get busy.
It seems pretty crowded out there if you’re familiar with all the popular cultivars in commerce today. Ever wondered who all those people named in plant circles really are?
As thoughts of the next gardening season are already coming to mind, I am reminded that we are approaching a good time for an important garden chore.
Unless you drive with your eyes closed, chances are you’ve recently noticed acre after acre of land in Charlotte with leafy green plants shooting out of black plastic-covered mounds.
This wet and warm weather has been a boon for our gardens…well, most of them. There are some plants that just are not suited to this weather. One is the tall bearded iris. Cranky would be a kind word to describe its attitude.
Do you need a garden oasis about now? Someplace quiet and filled with plants happy to see you? You…
When you first enter a garden, whether that of a friend or stranger, do you notice something straight off that tells you something about its creator? I do, and feel like I have learned quickly something about the gardener who lives here.
The forecast mentions snow and I’m hoping I’ve done all the necessary tasks to relax and forget gardening for a few months. This is a good question: what is required to set the garden to bed for another season? This very day I placed the last of my spring bulbs in their snug homes for the winter. The last of the leaves have pretty much all come down. Fortunately, I have helpers to clear them up.
Saturday I came back to the farm after the farmers market feeling pretty whooped. It had been unexpectedly hot, and standing behind a grill for four hours had made it even more so. It’s been a hot stretch of weather (hottest July on record, in fact), and rain has been hard to come by. August had started off similarly. And while the forecast has been regularly calling for rain, we have regularly been left high and dry.
Yellow iris (Iris pseudacorus), with its striking yellow flowers, provides a colorful addition to the Vermont landscape—and a threat to our priority natural communities. In recent years, it has gained a foothold in many Lake Champlain wetlands andsmall streams that drain directly into the lake. Both are priority natural communities, as documented by the Vermont Fish & Wildlife Natural Heritage Program.
On Nov. 8 Deb Preston said, “This morning I was putting the garden to bed, so I was out amongst all the pretty frost.” Same day, Kit Perkins said, “I took this early morning; first hard frost.”