on politics

I do not consider myself an overly political person. In fact, I tend to opt out of political conversations. I make sure to be an informed and open-minded voter, but you are not likely to find me preaching standing atop a soap box in the public square. Yet, after this week of events, I did come to one fuzzy conclusion this morning while cleaning the coffee pot. To totally generalize, again, before I've even had my morning joe, if republicans are known historically for starting wars and conflict and democrats are known for having mistresses and being involved in sex scandals, then which side is worse? I'd take a troubled marriage and some sketchy personal values over thousands of dead soldiers and who knows how many hundreds of thousands of dead men, women, and children who had no say in the decision in the first place. But hell, neither side makes me proud of the ethical state, or lack thereof, of our government. hmmm.



Where's that coffee.

"On Records, the Sound Just Fades Away"

"Did you ever make it in that big city, pal,
Or did you crash down in some rainy alleyway.
I saw six angels wrapping you up in newspaper,
Oh, but that might have been a dream."

-Greg Brown, One Night: Live 1982

Fagus sylvatica 'Pendula'

I was trying to think today of a favorite plant. Names came and went and then I thought about a weeping European beech tree. I was thinking about growing up on Indian Wells and the property across from St. Mary's Lane. I'd go by it a million times on my way to and from the ocean. The front yard was big and expansive and situated on a slope, the house on top of the rise in the distance. And all those trees! Every kind, big ones, small ones, evergreen, deciduous, this crazy tree that looked like a living fountain of branches and leaves. In the snow I wanted to climb inside and make a winter fort and camp out in there. Each one takes on a different form, but each so beautiful and graceful. Fagus sylvatica 'Pendula' is a favorite, one of many. This one is up at Wave Hill. I took this photo in late April of 2005 soon after I went back to school for horticulture. Even pre-leaves it's such a great structure in the landscape.

happy spring

The best is getting out of work and it still being this light out. Enjoying the evening sun and clouds over Astoria pre-tax appointment. Of course, it didn't hurt that today's workday included a great walk through Central Park to see what was in bloom. Little Galanthus bulbs with their nodding green and white heads. The tiny yellow bursts along the branches of the Cornus mas beginning to expand. Seems like the forsythia will pop soon too. Oh, and a little spoiled city kid going through puberty at an awkwardly young age and trying to make out with his nanny in front of the mating ducks. umm, hmm. yeah...

Welcome to New York, Happy Spring!

City vs. Country, the eternal struggle.

I went to a town I had never been to before. And it was a real cute place. I caught up with my friend Erika and it was really wonderful.

When you're unsure about change I think it's a basic human reaction to retreat to what you know. And who you know. Anthropologically speaking, I think the creation of religion is a perfect example of that. Attempting to understand the universe is ultimately impossible. We don't know what came first, the chicken or the egg. We don't know the reason we as a species were gifted with an abstract mind. We don't know what happens after we die, spiritually, that is. But by acting as though we know we in return feel more centered and able to deal with the uncertainty in our daily lives. How many times have I heard, "God has the answer". And related to that we can then understand why there are shrines, temples, and churches. They are tangible places to go to feel that same sensation of being centered, protected, at ease. Everyone everywhere has their own center of the world, their own sacred space. Religions have followers because it provides them with answers. The answers themselves depend on the faith, but in each case its just humans' attempt to rationalize the magnificence of life and the unusual presence of an abstract mind. Why us? Why me? We've all heard those questions. We've all asked those questions.

People used to ask me my religion. As a student of anthropology I used to say that I didn't have one, that I tried to be understanding of all religions. I guess now over the years I have realized that I'm one of those people for whom nature is my religion. So hokey to say, I know, but still very true. I live in a city, and it is, by design, separate from nature. And it is amazing. Cultures, languages, sounds, man-made creations that awe and mesmorize, beautiful people, ugly people, everything you need and even more things you don't, all at your fingertips. And yet I went to a virtual "nowhere" where the main attraction was a stand of woods with American beech trees scattered in the interior, their dried brown leaves still fluttering stuck to the cold branches. And I thought, "I feel very at home here". Centered, protected, alive.

With changes on the work front and my ever-present flightiness, I've been thinking about how much longer we'll stay living in the city. I have done good work here reconnecting people to the natural world that they forget about while dashing from taxi to apartment and back again. I have a lot more work to do in that respect. But recently we've been thinking this challenge isn't quite necessary any more. Some times it is odd to spend time away from the city and then come back and have it feel so alien when it is really your home. Of course nothing is going to happen as quickly as I might think so I best just get back to work. Like I said, I have a lot more to do.

Erika had hanging from her rearview mirror a bunch of shells she gathered in Montauk, just a little trek from where I grew up. All the way up in Pawling I had a little reminder of my own sacred space, and again, it was so wonderful.

on heads, hands, and habit

On Friday I traveled up to The New York Botanical Garden to attend the graduation of The School of Professional Horticulture. The school is a two-year intensive program that exposes a small group of selected students to every aspect of top-notch horticulture. You take a ton of classes, from organic chemistry to History and Theory of Landscape Design, you work hard every day alongside some of the best in public horticulture, and you attempt to house and sustain yourself while you juggle these 8-16 hour days solid for two years. I have a good friend who likes to scoff at how exclusive and elitist the school comes across. That's fine, she's entitled to her opinion. Just as much as I'm entitled to know the truth. The truth is that it is a lot to juggle, and not everyone makes it through, but those that do make it to another level, and they are professional horticulturists. I graduated just a year ago and I am damn proud to be in the club. These people are not only my friends but they are the people who I trust the most to make this a better and healthier world for all.

The tagline of the school is "where practice and theory meet". That was the line that Bill Logan chose to speak to as he began his keynote address in front of the intimate group of students, family, teachers, Garden staff, friends, and alumni. Bill Logan is an arborist and great mentor of mine who came to trees via literature, poetry, and garden writing. I hope some day to be as eloquent as Bill, with his commentary so accurate and so vivid with tangible anecdotes and factoids. Bill reminded us how our society likes to separate the "heads" and the "hands".
There are head people, those that formalize ideas and direct the show, often without rolling up their sleeves. And then there are the hand people, those that apply their hands and make a reality of the heads' design. And why is that the case? Most of us were there on Friday because we care about both of those processes equally. It was such a treat to have someone as articulate remind us of that a thought that might be simple but certainly goes unrecognized. As horticulturists I think that our lives are the best and yet so challenging because we see that it is only by being both a head and a pair of hands that we are complete. To formulate and think through is powerful, but understand my doing and see the plants that resulted from the seeds you've sown, well, that takes you to another level.

With all this its hard at times to differentiate between what we do to make ourselves happy and what we do to make society happy. We climb the ladder, excel to the managerial role, and move on from where we were as a laborious pair of hands. But sometimes I wonder why. I think, "Wouldn't it just be great to be a regular gardener again". I know gardeners who have been in similar positions for many years and they seem perfectly content with their lives. Then I see others who have climbed that ladder very quickly and their desk is far from the gardens they started in, or the first trees they climbed. I wonder where I fit in. I have a lot to offer, to plant, to grow, to educate, to spread the mission of making this a greener place. But I don't want to become to separated from my hands, from the earth, from knowing intimately that connection between the two.

I put on my dress pants and nice shoes. Soon I'll hit the pavement and the elevator and the office. I will educate and positively affect many people today with the lessons I've created. I will remind myself that this higher position means I can reach out and educate more people than if I was just caring for my own small gardens. But, damn, the 13th floor is sometimes just too far away from the dirt far below.

early sunday morning

It seems amazingly crisp and clear outside today after all the rain and gray we have had over the last two days. I love waking up to that contrast of orange and red brick buildings against the rich blue sky. Branches in the back courtyard rustling in the wind. We've adjusted the clocks. I watered all the plants. The dracaena in the living room was shedding and I found myself braiding the fallen leaves. I think that's a sign that I need to get out. It is a beautiful day outside. My love is dreading having to trek north to Brewster for Vet school today, but I'm thrilled about getting in the car and getting out of here. The country is inspirational to me, and I want to soak up as much as possible.

If I could suggest something, make sure to take a walk today, and make sure its to nowhere in particular. Sometimes those are the best walks.

Flowering x Laeliocattleya 'Gold Rush'

Just about a year ago I was working for The Horticultural Society of New York after having graduated The School of Professional Horticulture up at NYBG. I was at The Gramercy Garden and Antique Show informing people about the many resources and horticultural offerings of HSNY and across the way was an orchid vendor. Sure enough, after three days of working the show I caved and bought myself a number of new orchids for my kitchen at home. The room is naturally very sunny so I looked for orchids that could tolerate a lot of light, and chose in the direction of Cattleya and and various Cattleya hybrids. I also made a point of choosing orchids that had pseudobulbs. Pseudobulbs are swollen stems on some orchid plants from which leaves and flower spikes emerge. These swollen stems can have varying shapes and sizes. Some are indeed very bulbous while others may be more stalk-like. Either way these structures help the plants to store water and nutrients through times of drought. This does not mean that if you have orchids with pseudobulbs you never have to water them. It just means that if you have to be away for more than a week or two your orchids will most likely be fine. I also like orchids that have pseudobulbs because they are simply more plant to look at. Between blooms the plant still have some height and girth to it, unlike something like a Phalaenopsis, or moth orchid, which between blooms is perhaps a little less showy with its low-lying leaves. But, I'm getting off on a tangent and that is all just a matter of personal taste anyway. I digress.

The orchid photographed above is a hybrid of two types of orchids, a cross between a Laelia and a Cattleya. When orchids are crossed with each other to create a new genetic hybrid, the new name is a combination of the two, or in some cases, three or four names. Therefore, this is a x Laeliocattleya named 'Gold Rush'. I bought it as a mature plant but it was not in bloom at the time. Over the last year it grew three new pseudobulbs, each about 5" or 6" tall. Generally Laeliocattleyas only produce one or two large leaves on the top of each pseudobulb, and then a protective sheath from which the flower spike will emerge. The plants grew like crazy but in the case of this orchid it was a long time that the sheath was present before the flower spike finally emerged. However, just a couple weeks ago the flower spikes began to emerge.
At first the flower spike was tiny, but it slowly began to unfurl to show four or five miniature flower buds.
The peduncle, the stalk on which the flower buds form, begins to elongate and the buds begin to swell. Eventually they get large enough that they begin to show their color.
And then, finally, the buds open and I get to see what 'Gold Rush' looks like in person. The flowers are rather compact compared to other Cattleya hybrids, only a couple inches in height.
What a pleasure to be able to grow something so beautiful. I will make sure to keep it watered very lightly but regularly and will try and keep the humidity up as high as I can so that the flowers hold their form for a while. I have glazed saucers with pebbles underneath all my orchids and I find that a little extra water in the saucers that can evaporate and provide a little extra moisture to the immediate area around the plant often helps a lot.

You can find orchids many places thanks to their popularity over the years. I have found many down in the Flower District on 28th Street that have held up very well. I experimented with mail ordering some orchids and those I have had great success with. Cheap orchids at huge retailers who don't specialize in plants I am hesitant to buy, but again, that's just me. I like knowing where my plants are grown and supporting those growers. Of course, right now the Orchid Show is happening up at NYBG and if you can get up to the Bronx you really must treat yourself. Just remember, if you are taking one home and it's chilly outside, anywhere below 60, make sure your orchids are wrapped very well in a lot of plastic or cellophane. It's criminal
to see people walking down the street with unwrapped orchids in winter or early spring because
I know the flowers will not hold up if they get frost-bitten, even if it's only for "a minute.

Rinseflow

It's a lazy rainy Saturday in Queens.

"Shark infested water
Message in a bottle
No man is an island
Individual visual MC
Me, I love life"

-Antipop Consortium, Tragic Epilogue

"Oh no, it's not a diary, it's a blog."

I remember in high school starting a journal for a junior year English class. We were to write about school and the farm we were living on and our experiences and thoughts and whatever moved us. The only requirement was actually a suggestion, at least three pages a week. In the wide-lined notebooks we were supplied three pages went pretty easy. We were teenage kids from all over the country on a farm in Vermont for a 16-week semester that would change our lives more than we could have ever fathomed. Trust me, plenty to write about. So on Monday morning we'd see Jack after morning meeting and pass him our journals. Jack Kruse was our teacher, an amazing literary mind and musician, and we looked up to him in every sense of the world. Our classes ran 55 minutes and at half-past five every Monday afternoon Jack would tell us to put our other materials away and would pull out his stack of marked journals. We knew for the next twenty five minutes we'd get to hear great prose, political, romantic, teenage-angstariffic! Jack would simply select his favorite sentences or paragraphs. It was up to us to figure out who wrote what. I remember once writing an entry about a crush i had and how torturous it was when you thought you were making eyes and connecting with each other so well and low-and-behold she's all of a sudden making the same eyes with someone else, forcing you to realize you're not as special as you'd hoped. Ouch. Yet the way I wrote the entry you couldn't clearly tell if it was from a guys or girls point of view. Class let out that one afternoon and someone made a compliment about my entry with all of it's truth and anonymity and I couldn't help but smile and be proud that it worked out to be such an entertaining piece.

The snow melted, spring and mud season came, we made it, we graduated the program, and eventually we had to leave The Mountain School. Jack told us to keep writing and I listened. My journal became a close sidekick for years to follow. Inevitably I would get teased by someone for being a boy writing in a diary. (sigh). I would try to rationalize that a journal was different from a diary, but really, I had nothing concrete to combat the ridicule. Best just change the subject.

So, with all that, I was so surprised to see a woman writing in her journal tonight on the subway on the way home after work. Or wait, was it a diary? I mean, don't get me wrong, I feel like I used to see that a lot. I was surprised that her writing in a journal was such a surprise to see! I guess it had just been a while. Hell, I used to write in my journal all the time when I was first in the city on the subway. I still love looking at those drawings and descriptions. We've left our journals out of our bags because we've found the hippest new thing. We've chosen to blog instead. For ourselves and yet for all to see and read along with. I wonder if Jack has abandoned his pencil and pad for a keyboard. I wonder if Thoreau would have gotten into blogging.

Amazing Seed Germination

(A cluster of flowers from a tropical shrub I believe belongs to the Jatropha genus, Florida, January, 2008)

Over the last month and a half I have been propagating some seeds that I collected down in Florida in January. Thanks to a great friend who is a horticulturist and entomologist down there I was introduced to a woody tropical plant named Jatropha multifida. A member of the Euphorbia family found from Mexico down to Brazil, this tropical evergreen shrub has large deeply lobed leaves and blooms terminal clusters of red flowers. At one point we found ourselves in an area where they had been heavily planted and I thought they just looked great with their big textural look and spread of branches. Even though this shrub or small tree is said to bloom mostly during the summer months, there were still plenty of flowers on them in the middle of winter. Some pollinated flowers from months before had already developed into yellow-orange fruit which by this point had fallen to the ground. I picked one up to examine it since the shape and color were so intriguing. The slightly bulbous three-sided fruit was hiding underneath its thin sweet-smelling skin three dark seeds. Erin described how easy they were to propagate from seed. She told me that all I had to do was remove the seeds, soak them for a day, and then sow them shallowly in soil. So I through a few in my pocket and brought them back north with me.

Most people understand that seeds grow into plants, but I realize now that many people don’t understand the specifics of exactly how that happens. In the office I’ve been using these Jatropha seedlings to explain that very process, and I thought a short blog entry might be enjoyable for others to learn from.

So, let’s first revisit the steps. I gathered the seeds once they had been fully formed and dropped by the plant. Different seeds require different methods of being sown so that the seed coat properly breaks and the plant has the best chance of successful germination, but I knew that these were quite easy. I followed Erin’s suggestions, peeled the fruit off the seeds and soaked them for a day. For most seedlings, you want to initially sow them in what we call a soilless mix. This kind of mix is typically made of peat moss, perlite, and perhaps vermiculite. The mix is free draining, yet holds moisture, has a little bit of nutrient value, yet is not overloaded with organics, microbes, and bacteria that the seedling is not quite ready for at this stage. I, however, didn’t have any soilless mix on hand so I opted to take a little risk and sow the seeds in a reliable potting mix I already had in the office.

I placed the soaked seeds on top of moist soil in plastic containers, to retain moisture longer compared to clay pots, and covered the whole thing with plastic wrap to create a mini greenhouse. Then I waited to see what would happen.

Not even a week later I peaked under the plastic wrap to find that the seed coats had been cracked. A tiny growth had emerged out of the seed and right away began to dig down into the soil. This is called the radicle. The radicle is the initial growth out of the seed that will help the future seedling to get nutrients from the soil and establish roots for the plant. In order for the seedling to take and the plant to do well, it has to first have roots to anchor it and provide nutrients in order for stems and leaves to follow.By about two weeks later I pulled the seeds from their plastic pots to see if roots were developing. I was thrilled to see a number of healthy white roots so I transplanted the seedlings into a slightly larger container, the clay pot you see photographed above. I kept them under plastic wrap to keep the humidity levels high and watched them daily to make sure they didn't dry out. What you can see in the photographs above and below is the next step, a growth called the plumule. This is essentially the initial stem of the plant, from where leaves and other stems will emerge over time.

Jump to another two weeks later, now mid-Febraury, and you can see how quickly the plumule has developed into the initial stem of the seedling. Because this plant is considered a dicot, a certain kind of angiosperm, or flowering plant, it produces two leaves right away.
Now the seedling has established roots, stems, and finally leaves, and can photosynthesize and create energy to continue to grow on its own. It becomes less reliant on the energy stored in the seed, because the seed has already done it's part and gotten the process underway. This seedling actually held on to its seed for a long time and I was kind of surprised. When I thought the seed must have finally been empty and couldn't give any more, I was amazed that it was still pushing out new growth in the form of a long stem and many little leaves. Eventually I knew that the plant would become self sufficient enough that the seed would soon fall off the plant.
By the 22nd of February, you can see how the seedling has grown and become a new plant of its own. The seeds themselves had finally fallen off and were just laying on the soil surface. Today, March 2nd, I even found the roots growing out of the bottom of the pot so it is clearly time to repot the seedlings into larger containers. Since Jatropha multifida can grow to be a woody shrub well over 6' tall and wide I'm curious to see how much it will grow during the upcoming spring and summer!