Each Little World

Mushroom mania

Fall always brings mushrooms here and there in the garden. Sometimes just a stem or two and sometimes big clumps. 

I love the way these appear to be looking back at the photographer.

I don't remember "puffballs" in the garden in past years. When I first saw it, I almost kicked it thinking it was a rock.

A few days later I delicately brushed the dirt off of it. A couple of days after that I brought a ruler out to measure how big it was getting.

When we came home from Milwaukee, it was bigger still but it had split open. It looks like it did that on its own as the cracks are very smooth and don't have any evidence of critter damage. Wish I'd had a chance to see it one more time before this happened.

Signs of autumn

It always amazes me to walk around the garden and see mushrooms where there was nothing the day before. I can't identify any of them, so I just enjoy them visually while they last. 

Accidental science project

I was out in the driveway garden and noticed that I have Geranium maculatum 'Espresso' in four different locations. I remember putting the plant in two places and it likely self-seeded into the other two. The size and shape of the plants and the leaf color are all different to varying degrees. I think it is all based on the amount of light each plant is receiving. I was so fascinated by this little science walk that I took a picture of each plant.

This one is growing upwards, definitely reaching towards the light. No surprise as it is right next to the house and has been hidden behind a big container. 

Number two is further along the same stone wall. Mark parks his truck here, but this plant gets some light as the rear of the truck doesn't usually hide the entire plant. No flowers open as yet. 

This one is hidden from sight most of time by the truck. To me that would suggest its foliage should be green but it is definitely darker than its two neighbors along this wall. But no flowers blooming yet either.

This is the original plant and it's across the driveway in a raised area. Unlike the other three it grows more horizontally. And it has the chocolate foliage that its name suggests. This has been growing under our Forest Pansy redbud where it gets early spring sun. But there is a bad chance that the redbud has died so that will affect the future of this and all the shade plants that were growing under it. 

Native plants vs. exotics

When I started to garden behind my apartment back in the 1980s, native plantings pretty much meant prairies to me. Once Mark and I began creating a garden influenced by Japanese landscapes, we looked to plants from that part of the world. If I liked it and I could grow it, I did not worry about where it came from. 

These days there is so much emphasis on planting natives that one can easily feel guilty, despite having a garden with barely a blade of lawn grass. As I specifically began to add some natives to my garden, I wondered what natives I might already have — or if, indeed, I had any natives at all. So I looked at the 39-page list of "Wisconsin Native Plants," published by the DNR. Guess what I discovered?

Turns out I have multiple plants of every one of Wisconsin's seven native ferns. Though I'm only growing 5 of the 17 native varieties of Carex, I've got hundreds of those 5 natives all through my garden. I'm only growing 4 types of native shrubs in my garden; but I have a total of 17 plants. Then there are the 25 trees of 8 native varieties. Add to the list countless plants of a couple of dozen varieties of native ephemerals and perennials.

I've been spending a lot of time and effort trying to figure out what natives I could add to my garden to make it more attractive to wildlife and assorted pollinators. Turns out my garden is loaded with natives. That means I can continue to add natives when and where they make sense in my garden, but they don't have to be my entire focus. 

Plants pictured (from the top): Japanese Peony, and three natives — Maidenhair fern at the bottom of the steps, Hemlock and Bloodroot flowers. 

Shelf mushrooms

When our former neighbor cut down a diseased old maple tree, he had the arborist leave a significant stump. Our neighbor said he did it so he could sit on it and watch the world go by. In twenty years of living next door, we'd never seen him in his front yard except to cut the grass. Turns out we're the ones enjoying the stump. It's become a veritable science lab on our side of the stump. 

A little Google research in the USDA "Field Guide to Common Macrofungi in Eastern Forests and Their Ecosystem Functions" by Michael E. Ostry, Neil A. Anderson and Joseph G. O’Brien identified this as an Artist’s Conk aka Ganoderma applanatum (Fomes applanatus). It is often referred to as a "shelf mushroom" and is not edible. 

It is known by its shelf-like, hard gray-brown zonate upper surface; the white lower surface turns brown when scratched. Its season of fruiting is perennial and its ecosystem function causes a white stem and butt rot of hardwoods. It is not a problem on a dead tree stump like our neighbor's, but is not a good sign when found on an apparently healthy tree. 

Fungal note:  It is the most common perennial wood decay fungus of dead and dying hardwood trees. A single conk can produce 1.25 billion spores each hour for 5-6 months each year. That is an amazing statistic for something that looks so quiet and subtle. 

Bulb alert

It's April! Have you ordered your bulbs yet? I don't typically plant a lot of bulbs each year, but I always get some. I like to try something new or add more of a favorite that's done well for me in the past. Since I also like to order from specialty nurseries like Old House Gardens, Brent and Becky's Bulbs and Odyssey Bulbs, I know that I will be out of luck if I wait until summer to place my order. So for the last few years, I've been ordering my fall-planted bulbs in March. This year I'm getting two Tulip varieties that I've looked at in the past and decided now's the moment to try them. 

Tulip sylvestris:

OHG says this heirloom plant is violet-scented with "small, yellow, almond-shaped flowers that nod in bud and then open wide in the sun. Gerard pictured it in his great Herbal of 1597" and Thomas Jefferson grew it at Monticello. Also known as the  ""Florentine Tulip,"  T. sylvestris grows 8-14 inches tall and is hardy in zones 5a-8a.

This Tulip is unusual in that it is generally considered a perennial performer if it is happy and it is often grown in woodland settings. I am thinking of trying some bulbs near Erythronium 'Pagoda" and purple Epimediums and others near some pink and yellow Erythroniums and Fritillaries.

What I need to do next is take photos this spring so I know where to plant the bulbs when the arrive in the fall. And I need to mark those spots in some way as well.  

Tulipa whittallii

According to "The Plant Lover's Guide to Tulips" from the Kew series of guide books, T. whittallii is a species Tulip that is supposedly one of the best that can be grown in the open garden. It blooms in various shades of orange set off with a dark, round heart and is up to 12" tall with narrow leaves. The book notes that though it comes from Turkey, it is "surprisingly adaptable to cooler, wetter regions."

I planted a clumps of bronze and orange Tulips under our weeping purple Beech last fall. I put them in a rough row behind a swath of Astilbes. I am hoping I can shoehorn T. wittallii bulbs among the Astilbes which will hide the dying foliage. I like the idea of slightly shorter, more delicate Tulips contrasting with the big blowzy ones. 

The leaves of the purple Beech unfurl in lovely warm peach color with mauve and bronze overlay. The Astilbes emerge with very dark foliage — all of which should do well with the Tulip colors. Certainly it looks fabulous in my mind's eye. We will see how it looks in person eventually.

Autumnal Equinox

Today — September 22, 2017 — at 3:02 p.m. (Central Daylight Time) marks the official arrival of Autumn aka the Autumnal Equinox. Or does it? When the seasons change depends on how you look at it: astronomically or meteorologically. 

Astronomically, the September equinox marks the end of summer and the beginning of fall. Autumn will be over officially on the Winter Solstice in December. For meteorologists, on the other hand, fall in the Northern Hemisphere begins about 3 weeks before the September equinox on September 1 and ends on November 30. 

Personally I think of fall beginning when kids go back to school. That almost coincides with meteorological autumn. Despite the date, it is very hard to think of the current moment as astronomical autumn either since we've been enjoying day after day of hot sunny weather. I think this is the year that both calculations are wrong. Leaves may be falling, but until the temperatures join them I'm going to keep working in the garden and ignore the whole question.

We set a temperature record on Wednesday when our high for the day was 91 degrees F. 

The worm has turned and is also being surveyed

Earlier this week I dug out an old shrub that I planted years ago because I remembered one growing at my grandmother's. I decided the memory of it was much nicer than my actual ratty shrub taking up a piece of valuable real estate. It took me a good two hours or more to get that monster out of the ground. The worst part of the job, however, was that there were Asian jumping worms (Amynthas species) in every spade of dirt I turned over. Now when I see a worm it is always an enemy siting. It was a very depressing afternoon. 

The next day Mark and I cleaned up the east side of the house where our garden work area is located. Mark is going to make me a new potting bench but we needed to get all the junk out of the way so he could get started. Piles of prunings, bags of garden debris, old pots and a pile of soil he bought in early spring to re-pot our waterlilies made the space a disaster area. We dealt with all the piles of junk and then lifted up the piece of plastic that had been covering the remains of the dirt pile.

It was immediately apparent to me that jumping worms had been working there. If you look at the photo above you can see how the soil looks like the proverbial "coffee grounds" texture we've been hearing about. The pale spot by the rock in the photo below shows the untouched soil. There's lots of pebbles and debris in this image but I think the difference in soil texture is noticeable. This is the first — and so far only  — place where I have seen any effect from the jumping worms, though this is at least the second year I have seen them in the garden. The number of worms I am finding appears to be higher than last year. 

Wisconsin DNR Invasive Plants and Earthworms Outreach Specialist Bernie Williams said in the WHPS June newsletter, “The best way to get rid of the worms at present — if you are finding one of the adults — try and grab and bag as many of them as you can. At least that way, you’re alleviating that pressure of having the cocoons in your soil. If you put them in a plastic bag and then put them in the sun for 10 minutes or so, you’re going to have a congealed mess of worms ... the humane way to put them out. And then just dispose of them in the trash.”

I used this technique when I was digging out the shrub I mentioned at the top of this post. I had three lunch-sized ziplok baggies each with about a dozen worms. Put the bags on a rock in the sun for the afternoon and then into the trash. So many worms it was hard to decide if I had a chance of making any kind of a difference in my garden in the long term scheme of things. 

I am on a list for email updates from the UW-Madison Arboretum. The Arb has been at the forefront locally of dealing with, learning about and researching jumping worms. They sent me the notice that I've pasted below in its entirety. It came right after my recent jumping worm experiences and definitely got my attention. I am passing it on for anyone who might want to volunteer since so many of us locally are already dealing with this issue.

Invasive jumping worm (Amynthas species) photo from (NTL-LTER) and the UW-Madison Arboretum 

 Volunteers Needed

for Invasive Worm Survey

The North Temperate Lakes Long-Term Ecological Research site (NTL-LTER) and the Arboretum will be surveying Madison properties for the invasive jumping worm (Amynthas species) on September 10. We need volunteers for two opportunities—both will be great learning experiences for those who want to know more about jumping worms:

1. People to help survey properties on September 10 
2. Madison homeowners who do not know if they have the worm and would like their residential site to be part of the survey

If you are interested in either of these opportunities, please keep reading and get in touch by the dates listed below. 

. . .

The North Temperate Lakes Long-Term Ecological Research site (NTL-LTER) and the UW–Madison Arboretum are seeking volunteers to join the Madison Citywide Jumping Worm Survey on Sunday, September 10, 2017, from 1–5 p.m.

Background

The jumping worm is an earthworm native to East Asia, but invasive to Wisconsin. This pest was found in Madison in the fall of 2013, and researchers and land managers are concerned about potential negative effects on soil and plant growth. The jumping worm is also of considerable concern to local gardeners and homeowners who worry about potential damaging effects to their property. This fall, our team seeks to learn about the spread of the invasive jumping worm in the Madison area.

Project Goals

The project's research goal is to get a first assessment (which could be repeated in subsequent years) of the distribution and abundance of Amynthas spp. in the Madison metro area. Specifically we aim to determine:

1. What is the current distribution of Asian jumping worms (Amynthas spp.) in the Madison metropolitan area? (i.e., where are the worms?)
2. How do the presence and abundance of Asian jumping worms (Amynthas spp.) vary with land-cover categories? (i.e., what habitats do they prefer or avoid?)

Volunteer Information

We are seeking volunteers to help us survey for jumping worms in residential, park, prairie, and forested sites throughout the city of Madison. We are also looking for additional Madison residential properties to include in the survey, especially from homeowners who do not know if their property contains the jumping worm.

If you are interested in having your Madison property surveyed as part of the Madison Citywide Worm Survey and you are unaware if you have the jumping worm, please email your name and contact information to Kelly O’Ferrell by August 28, 2017. *Note: Residential properties will be randomly selected from responses until we have met our site quota.

If you are interested in participating as a survey volunteer in the Madison Citywide Jumping Worm Survey on Sunday September 10, 2017, from 1–5 p.m., please email your name and contact information to Kelly O’Ferrell by September 1, 2017.

Thank you!

The Madison Citywide Jumping Worm Survey Team

. . .

Here is a link to the The North Temperate Lakes Long-Term Ecological Research web site if you are curious as to who they are. 

Botanical Latin — or English

As most gardeners know, Linnaeus (above) standardized the system of naming, ranking and classifying organisms back in the 18th century. At the time, Latin was the language of science and that's why all of us call our plants by long Latin names. But, as of the first of this year, scientists are no longer restricted to Botanical Latin when classifying plants, algae and fungi, according to a story in the online version of Science News, the Magazine of the Society for Science & the Public.

The article notes that "the latest revision of the international code governing these names allows two new options: skipping paper publishing and describing key features in English instead of Latin. You can read all about why the change is being made now and what it means here. 

Hellebores keeping warm

Back to back snowstorms have my garden buried this week. But as soon as the snow disappears early next month, I should see the first snowdrops and Hellebores pushing up. How, you ask, can plants like Helleborus foetidus (the stinking Hellebore, pictured) bloom in the cold?  According to a tiny article in the May 2010 issue of Smithsonian magazine, scientists with the Spanish Research Council discovered that "strains of yeast living in the flowers' nectar warm the flowers up to 13 degrees Fahrenheit by metabolizing  sugars." In other words, the yeast lets the flowers bloom in low temps and little sun. The researchers call it a "novel mechanism whereby flowers can raise their temperatures." Novel indeed. Hope you have your own novel way to keep warm during this current cold spell!