The New Old Garden

June 5, 2017

Like knitting, beyond exotic species and new hybrids, there probably really isn’t anything completely new in gardening, only things to rediscover—AKA new-old topics. These new-old topics include lawns of mixed species, or lawn replacements, and layered green garden beds where no soil shows. 

Coastal dune prairie, with western buttercup and
early blue violets--the turf that jump-started
my new old lawn. 

Into the nineteenth and early twentieth century, lawns were closely mown or grazed turf, composed of a mix of species, including grasses, wildflowers, bulbs and sedges. In other words, any plant that could tolerate close grazing or mowing might be found growing in a turf, or low meadow. This treatment kept out or down most woody species. 

Grass-only turfs were the purview of the wealthy, who hired people to mow and weed lawns and remove the non-grass plants, often by hand. The tyranny of the grass lawn began after World War II with a shift by chemical manufacturers from wartime gases to fertilizers and pesticides. This meant that anyone could have a lush grass-only lawn, just by applying the right synthetic chemicals at the right time. 

The ‘new-old lawn’ is a mix of species of grasses and wildflowers, designed on prairie palettes of low to tall wildflowers with a grass framework. Mowing is hugely reduced. Pesticides are not used, except perhaps to remove historic exotic grasses. 

Sand-dune sedge in a bare spot

Never a fan of summer watering, lots of chemicals (including fertilizers), or excessive weeding, I began pondering the turf tyranny a few years ago. A series of dry summers meant that the grasses regularly died back over large areas of my turf. Several exotic daisies promptly made a bid for dominance, including hairy catsear, common hawkbit, dandelion and leontodon. English daisy, Viola labradorica, creeping buttercup, trailplant, strawberry and others also expanded. 

In the midst of the profusion of flowers, I found some areas of turf were still green and thriving—these were patches of sand dune sedge, Carex pansa. Dry summers did not bother them at all. Thus began my rethinking of what constitutes a lawn. I began transplanting sedge clumps into bare areas. When I weeded, I removed only the largest exotic daisies, which are nurseries for several exotic European slugs that eat many garden plants. I left the rest, including mosses, ribwort, English daisy, violet, gill-over-the-ground, and dandelion, to grow and seed around. 

Coast goldenrod, another lovely low flower for
low meadows, and a good nectar plant.

We reduced mowing from weekly to every few weeks, leaving low mown strips along flower beds and letting the lawn grow taller elsewhere. I added sea thrift. This year I began pondering bulbs, which would need to be left to grow until foliage died down. I pulled out a hedge of lilacs along the marsh to replace with tall native grasses and wildflowers—to make a belt of meadow plants that can be mown at most once a year, to keep out woody species—and will otherwise be left alone. 

There are plants I intend to exclude. Ivy, Scots broom, gorse, and several exotic blackberries grow here. If areas are never mown, these species soon run riot over everything else. When we moved to this house, most of the property was a thicket of the aforementioned species, plus wild rose, grape, honeysuckle and plum. It took us years to clear the lower slopes of the dune behind the house so we could walk completely around the house outside.

It’s a work in transition. Eventually I will have three areas that are occasionally to regularly mown, high to low. There will be more native plants, more flowers, and more habitat for insects and animals that use meadows. I already see more butterflies and bumblebees than in the past. 

Sisyrinchiums are tiny irids that do well in lawns,
just don't mow them when they are flowering.

Garden beds are undergoing the same transformation from meticulously weeded and mulched, planted with carefully grouped species, to a ‘new green garden’ with a ground cover of low growing greenery, with no bare ground at all. It’s new to early 21st century gardeners, but was the normal garden condition for centuries, beyond areas where food plants and medicinal herbs were grown.  

Fringe-cups like some shade and moist soil. 

In my garden, this means tolerating some ‘weedy’ species, and clearing areas when I plant, and only then, removing those major competitors from a few square feet of soil. It also means using slug bait or encouraging garter snakes, which eat slugs. If I lived in a low rainfall area, I might be able to justify a bare-earth garden. But with eight to ten feet of winter rain being the norm, along with dry summers, lush is the default for my garden. So my new-old garden has ground covers of sedge, oxalis, forget-me-not, mosses, and only the rapacious ‘take all the nutrients and run’ species are removed. 

It’s a new way for us to think about gardens, but it’s been around for centuries. As an ecologist the idea I like the most is that this promotes diversity in the garden, and diversity always leads to more productivity and better endurance of the ecosystem. 

Rethinking Shoreline Gardens

Kathleen Sayce

Summer can be a thoughtful time for gardeners. First, we see the results of planning and planting in prior years as the plants grow and flower. Second, we naturally tend to think about what might have been—if only I’d planted five of those lilies instead of three; if only the deer hadn’t eaten down that rose; if only the croquet game on the 4th of July had not seen five children tromping (and bashing) through the rhododendrons to get their balls back to the playing field; if only . . .  Third, we contemplate what truly different kinds of gardens might be like. Autumn is a good time to revise and replant gardens, which intensifies thoughtful planning during the summer. 

Yellow sand verbena, Abronia latifolia, lives in open blowing sand areas on the beaches, and has showy bright yellow flowers. Not for a garden with improved soils, sand verbena is happiest in open sand. 

There are several ways to think about revising coastal gardens to reduce time, materials and energy spent caring for them, while still enjoying shrubs, perennials, grasses and other plants: 

One is to plant species that are truly salt, wind and rain tolerant, using those plants that thrive right along the ocean. 

Beach fleabane, Erigeron glaucus, is a low-growing daisy with pink to lavender flowers.Beach fleabane, Erigeron glaucus, is a low-growing daisy with pink to lavender flowers.

Two is to revise gardens to make them ocean friendly. A program of Surfrider Foundation, ( http://www.surfrider.org/programs/entry/ocean-friendly-gardens) ocean friendly gardening is being actively promoted in California. Prolonged drought in that state is driving a serious rethink of the lawn plus shrubs and perennials approach, also called ‘mow, chop and blow’.

Three is to rethink water needs, and shift to native plants that do not need summer water and live only with rainfall; this is called xeriscaping in drier climates. 

These approaches share a focus on water retention, soil building, use of compost and mulches, use of native and drought tolerant plants, and reducing hard surfaces to improve permeability. 

Beach lupine, Lupinus litoralis, lives in open sandy areas along the beach, and like sand verbena really prefers very sandy soils. 

The South Coast of Washington is not California, so the plants we can grow are a bit different, and we aren’t yet in drought conditions. However, unless you truly like dragging a hose around, I recommend re-planning your garden to reduce watering. I limit my watering to those plants by bird baths, and a few plants that grow in pots. The rest have to endure local conditions, or leave (read:  die). It sounds ruthless, but if you pay attention to what lives and what dies without summer water, then you can take a very important step––selecting plants that do not need summer watering. 

Yarrow, Achillea millefolium, grows in large patches, in the dunes, saltmarshes and seacliffs. Closely related species are pink, red, yellow and other colors, and all grow well on shorelines. 

Next comes evaluating just how close you are to the ocean. Within about one thousand feet of the beach, salt and wind are critical preconditions that define what you can successfully grow, and how to grow it. Many plants do well with regular watering in this zone, as watering washes salt off the plants and flushes salt from the soil. Watering all summer runs counter to low input gardening and no-to-low summer watering. It’s important instead to find those plants that tolerate salt and wind and drought, and put down the hose. 

For wetter sites, gumweed, Grindelia integrifolia, has buttery yellow daisy flowers in late summer. 

Plants that do well right along the coast include salal, kinnikinnick, sword fern, Pacific reedgrass, red fescue, tall hairgrass, snowberry, coastal mugwort, yarrow, dune tansy, dune goldenrod, Douglas aster, sea watch (a native angelica), edible thistle, pearly everlasting, nodding onion, beach fleabane, and strawberries. These plants naturally grow on the sea cliffs and in the dunes. There are also many xeric plants from other parts of the world that grow in dry summer shoreline conditions.  Xeric plants include lavender, rosemary, many grasses, some sedges, bulbs, and many more. The full list is long, too many to list or discuss here. For more information, see my blog at http://columbiacoast.blogspot.com, where I posted lists of native and introduced plants that do well along our shorelines.

One of the toughest native shrubs, salal, Gautheria shallon, grows on seacliffs and in dunes, with pink flowers and dark blue berries, and lovely evergreen foliage. 

The soil enhancement process is important to success for many plants. Adding carbon to the soil helps plants thrive in harsh conditions; these include compost, biochar and mulch.  Other shoreline gardening concepts include:  Permeable instead of impermeable surfaces (water absorbing rather than water resisting surfaces, which allow more water to enter the soil); choices for permeability include using gravel instead of concrete; paving with wide gaps, with gravel below, rather than all hard surfaces; mulches instead of bare soil; rain gardens and swales to help runoff water collect and soak into the ground and promote groundwater recharge. These all help retain water on site, clean it before it enters the ground water, and the ocean. 

Black twinberry, Lonicera involucrata, is a tough deciduous shrub with yellow flowers and brid-friendly black berries. 

The thinking behind ocean friendly gardening, at the Surfrider Foundation, is that present (and rapidly changing) ocean conditions are made worse by runoff water, often laden with heavy metals, chemicals from cars, nutrients and pesticides. Ocean-friendly-gardening also includes decoupling gutters from storm water collection systems so that water can recharge in the soil, and cleaning it biologically (with plants) before it reaches the groundwater or flows to nearby streams. 

Seawatch, Angelica lucida, lives on seacliffs, in dunes and salt marshes; four to six feet tall when flowering, plants are host to Anise Swallowtail butterfly larvae. 

These approaches help create gardens that need less water, no pesticides, less fertilizer, and less work to maintain. These aren’t flower-free gardens; they are full of flowers, are bee, butterfly and bird friendly, and are drought and fire resistant. 

As you watch your roses and lilies and geraniums bloom this year, what are you thinking about for next year? I’m rethinking the lawn along the salt marsh, wondering what a tall meadow would be like. I’d like to get rid of the lawn, but I don’t want my yard to go back to trees, which is its default plant community. This is a rainforest area, after all.  A tall meadow is mown once a year in late winter. Visualize tall grasses waving in the wind, punctuated by white angelica and pink native thistles, and magenta-pink spikes of checker mallow, and masses of yarrow. No watering. No summer mowing. I just have to take out those old lilac shrubs, and layer on compost to prep the soil; it could be ready to plant once the fall rains start, if I start this week. 

This and past columns are posted at http://columbiacoast.blogspot.com.

Blackberry Time: Midsummer to Early Fall

Written May 21, 2013, published in June 2013, all photos by Kathleen Sayce

Blackberries are a favorite summer fruit. There are several varieties to chose among that grow well here, including the native Pacific blackberry, introduced evergreen and Himalayan blackberries, and and several cultivated varieties (or cultivars) that were bred for heavier fruit-bearing, larger fruits, and darker, more intense flavors. These include Loganberries, Youngberries, Olallieberries, Boysenberries, and Marionberries. Why write about berries now? Fall is a good time to plant new blackberries in your garden. Their roots will establish over winter, and by next spring they will be growing strongly. 

Himalayan blackberries are in full flower by mid summer, and continue flowering until early fall; fruits stop accumulating sugar by late September.

The starting species:

Pacific blackberry grows naturally in the Pacific Northwest, and is a low-growing, sprawling vine. Fruits usually ripen in midsummer over a few short weeks, and are small and intensely flavored. Unusual among plants in the Pacific Northwest, Pacific blackberries have separate male and female plants; in botanical terms this is 'imperfect.' They also tend to have individual plants with multiple ploidy, or many more sets of chromosomes than the usual two sets. Both sexes have white flowers; males have many more flowers than females. If you look closely at the flowers, you can see either clusters of anther-tipped stamens on the male flowers, or a dense cluster of stigmas, with no anthers, on the female flowers. Male flowers also tend to be slightly larger and showier. During flowering, check plants and note the females, because these will have berries later on. 

Himalayan blackberry (Rubus armeniacus) arrived in North America in 1885, brought here by horticulturists for fruit. Once established, fruit-eating birds and other animals quickly discovered the large, juicy berries, and began spreading them around. This and most other Rubus species have plants with both sexes in the same flowers––botanists call this 'perfect' flowers. Native to Armenia and northern Iran despite the common name, Himalayan blackberries are more accurately called Armenian blackberries. This blackberry is well established in the Pacific Northwest. 

Red raspberries (Rubus idaeus) are European, and were introduced to North America for their fragrant, sweet red fruits. They are widely grown throughout the continent today. Unlike Armenian blackberries, red raspberries did not escape cultivation so easily, though this species has found its way beyond cultivation in some areas. 

Black raspberry (R. occidentalis) is native to eastern North America, and has a very fragrant black berry that is used to flavor fruit cordials, such as Chambord du framboise. It is  widely grown in North America, as well as other temperate areas around the world. 

Ripening Marionberries go from pale green to red to dark purple over a period of weeks, usually peaking in production in August, when berries ripen every day. 

Hybridizing begins:

Enter 19^th Century horticulturists eager to develop vines with bigger fruit, more flavor, and larger crops. They worked all over the world to develop highly productive, disease-resistant brambles for a wide range of climates.  The genus Rubus has hundreds of species. Hybridizing is relatively easy once the genetics are aligned. The base number of chromosomes (N), or ploidy, for the genus is 7. Typical diploids are 2N with fourteen chromosomes. The highest number of chromosomes known for a Rubus is 98. Trivia (or there's a word for that):  Those who study Rubus species are engaged in batology, the study of brambles.  

Breeders in eastern North America began by selecting among native and introduced Rubus species, including red raspberries, Pacific blackberries and dewberries (eastern blackberries, yet another member of the large genus Rubus) for vines that were sturdy, with fruits that were large and flavorful, with larger crops than wild plants naturally produce. 

The starting Pacific blackberry was a female octoploid plant (N=56) named Aughinbaugh. Rubus x 'Aughinbaugh' was crossed with a selected red raspberry. Their progeny were then crossed with an eastern dewberry. In each generation, plants were selected that showed desirable traits, including vigor, tasty large fruit, and increased flowering and fruiting capacity, which all contributed to higher production and more desirable fruit characteristics. 

The 'named' plants to result from this process that are still grown today in the U.S. are Loganberries, first grown in 1883, and Youngberries, in 1905. Youngberries were bred in the southeastern US, and today are widely grown in Australia, New Zealand and South Africa, while Loganberries were developed in California, and are grown in the west and Pacific Northwest. Boysenberries were developed at the same time, and from the same progenitors.   

Meanwhile, the Willamette Valley became a prime berry growing region and local breeding focused on berries that do well in this climate. 

Loganberries and Youngberries were crossed, and the more flavorful but less productive Olallie blackberry, or Olallieberry, was selected from their progeny in 1937. Pacific blackberries were crossed again with Loganberries to produce the Santiam blackberry in the early 20^th century. The Santiam blackberry was crossed with Himalayan blackberry to produce the Chehalem blackberry in 1936. 

Chehalem blackberries were crossed with Olallieberry mid century, and out of this cross came Marion blackberries, or Marionberries, a truly gorgeous, black, flavorful berry on sturdy vines. A strong grower and highly productive vine, it quickly moved into production, and is widely grown today. Notice all the names that are Willamette Valley-based: Chehalem, Marion, Olalla, Santiam. 

Ripe Marionberries are large and dark purple-black, flavorful and full of anthocyanins. 

Modern breeding continues:

This wasn't the end of blackberry breeding. The Kotata blackberry was produced in 1951 and released to farmers in 1989. Slightly earlier to fruit than Marionberries, it expands the berry-growing season in the Pacific Northwest. Batalogical research continues today on disease resistance, vigor, and improved fruit quality. Another memorable bramble may emerge from this work in coming years. 

Black raspberries also continue to be bred and selected for flavor, disease resistance and production in the Pacific Northwest. Many varieties of raspberries are grown in the Valley. 

In other climates, golden and purple raspberries, and other brambles in the genus Rubus are important fruit vines. Cloudberries, Rubus chamaemorus, grow at high latitudes; these berries are red when unripe, and turn gold when ripe. Extremely hardy, they grow above 55°N, with a few populations at high elevations down to 44°N. 

Anthocyanins and cellular health:

Highly colored berries in the genus Rubus are naturally high in anthocyanins [antho-CY-an-ins], which in plants act as photo-protective pigments, screening sunlight from cells to prevent sun damage. Anthocyanins are powerful antioxidants, and promote healthy cells in animals that eat them, as they reverse cellular damage. These compounds give berries a dark color––the darker the fruit, the higher the level of anthocyanins. Red berries have some anthocyanins; dark red, purple or blue berries have more, and black berries have the most. Similar anthocyanins are found in strawberries, blueberries, cranberries and huckleberries; and again, the darker the fruit, the higher the level of anthocyanins in its cells.

The next time you eat blackberries, or other colorful berries fresh, in pie, cobbler or cordial, you are also eating antioxidants, and promoting cellular health. Cheers!