Nuts to nutsedge

A weed is a plant that is growing where you don't want it. Yellow nutsedge is such a plant. It likes damp soil, so pops up in the lawn near the edges of the driveway. And now it is rampant in the rain garden.

It's Latin name is Cyperus esculentus. Nutsedge is also known as nut grass, chufa sedge, tiger nuts or earth almond. I've read that is is native to the Middle East and I've read that it is native to Indiana. Regardless, it has spread around the world. In some countries, it is used for livestock feed. Some people eat the tubers and/or make a drink from them. Ducks and wild turkeys feed on it.

I don't have any ducks or wild turkeys in my yard, so its value to me is minimal. I contemplated letting it grow in the rain garden, but decided that was inviting trouble. There are herbicides that target nutsedge, but they may damage turf grass and other nearby plants. I'll keep spraying it where I can, pulling it where I can't spray, and mowing it in the lawn.

A bargain

I took a sample of the skeletonized leaves from my 'Perfect Purple' flowering crab to the Purdue County Extension office. To have a member of the Master Gardeners examine them cost nothing, but I coughed up $5 for an expert to take a look and provide advice. They confirmed that yes, it is the apple-and-thorn skeletonizer, a.k.a. Choreutis pariana and provided several choices for treatment. What a deal!

While we were at the extension office, we took a stroll through their gardens, which consist of the usual suspects. A bonus is many are labeled, so if we were stumped over the identification of a plant, we just had to find its tag. Very helpful.

This planter design was new to me.

The past few days have brought morning fog, which highlights spider webs. At least I think they are spider webs. They could be a fungus. If I see them tomorrow, I will take a closer look.

The photo above highlights one of the things I don't like about the Packera aurea (Golden ragwort): the stems that remain after pruning the flowering stalks. I'm at the age where I don't like to do a lot of bending over, so I cut these back the best I could. Pulling on the stems, even when they look done, frequently results in uprooting the whole plant. In the sunnier areas, I plan to interplant one bed with a short variety of coneflower, another bed with a short variety of rudbeckia. That should at least disguise the stems.

We were lucky to receive almost two inches of rain this past week, which of course brought out the mushrooms. Perhaps these are a variety of Gymnopus?

I noticed that one cell in the mason bee nest is occupied, hopefully with mason bees. To read about their life cycle, visit this site.

The dead tulip tree is now a "wildlife tree" or snag. The other day, I observed a pair of sparrows stripping bark from one if the limbs, presumably to expose insects for the two youngsters that were with them.

The nextdoor neighbors have been making good use of their above-ground pool this summer. I'm almost tempted to get one of my own. Almost. It would have to come with a "pool boy".

Noises, noises, noises

When my children were young, I read to them a lot. One semi-favorite was called Noises, Noises, Noises, I believe. It was about an elderly couple. He complained about all the noises while she told him the solution was to eat his roast beef and wear his mittens.

Not a very interesting premise, but I could not help but think of that book while doing yoga on the deck last weekend. There were the manmade noises - airplanes and a medical helicoptor overhead, motorcycles and other traffic, the air conditioner cycling on and off, lawn mowers - and natural noises - the wind in the trees, birds (especially a wren and a hawk), Clio panting in the sun, and CICADAS in JUNE.

I have not seen any June bugs, but there is a plethora of Japanese beetles this year. The good news is they seem to be limiting their damage to the Virginia creeper. The vine is all volunteer and tolerated for its fall color. I'm not sure there will be anything left to turn red come autumn, though.

What eats Japanese beetles? According to the Web, birds like starlings, grackles, crows, robins, catbirds, cardinals, and meadowlarks. Also insects like spiders, assassin bugs, and predatory stink bugs. I wish they would come dine in my yard.

Something is skeletizing the leaves on the 'Perfect Purple' flowering crabapple as well. One online source suggests that this is caused by the apple-and-thorn skeletonizer, a.k.a. Choreutis pariana. The Midwest is not one of its usual territories, however. I may take some samples into the co-operative office and see what they say.

When I take the time to just sit and observe my yard, I see goldfinch in the beebalm and coneflower, hummingbirds tasting nectar from the blossoms on the penstemon and honeysuckle vine, young sparrows trying oh-so-hard to fly, rabbits hiding in the northern sea oats. Not very many butterflies, but for some reason dragonflies. Go figure.

Design flaws

When the Sanctuary Natives guy replaced the ailing ninebark, he took a look around the yard to see how things were doing. He was a bit surprised to see that the 'October Skies' aromatic aster in one bed now has a baby brother growing next to it; he didn't think that would happen. Now that the weather has cooled and I have been handweeding, I see that the aromatic asters are rampantly reseeding themselves. Argh! An online search validates my findings, with the recommendation that one prune the plants once the blossoms are done.

Two of the asters apparently don't get enough light and splay instead of growing more upright - the better to spread their seeds. I wrapped a bit of hardware cloth around them to prop them up (now they are shaped like sheafs of wheat), but I'm considering replacing them. (BTW, the blossoms of the aromatic aster are not aromatic; instead, its the leaves, which smelled wonderful while I was wrestling the plants into their new confines.)

BUT I feel bad about altering the landscape design. Or I did, until I read this article in the New York Times about the High Line in NYC. Piet Oudolf designed the High Line, but after fifteen years, plants grow - and outgrow their space. Ten horticulturists care for this urban oasis, trying to maintain the original vision as much as possible, but adjusting where needed.

Which brings me back to my yard. I'm allowed to make adjustments of my own when something is not working out. I will try to do it carefully and deliberately, instead of willy-nilly like I have in the past. Besides those two asters, the hairy beardtongue is not very happy in its somewhat shady location, so maybe I will move that and find a replacement. The status of the butterflyweed is also questionable; I've never had much luck with it.

The bluebird parents are busy feeding their young. A (presumably male) wren keeps singing up a storm around the wren box in the backyard, while I don't think anyone has taken up residence in the one in the front yard.

We've had rain (yay!) and cooler temps, so I've been working away on the weeds. Better get back at that chore while the weather holds.

Under the (heat) dome

The past week has been HOT. It's not so bad when there is a breeze or when there is a cloud cover. But when there is sun and no breeze? Ugh. And HUMID. And DRY - no rain. Tomorrow's high should be 80, which will feel chilly. There may be rain, which would be a relief.

My day used to start with coffee and news, breakfast, then dog walking. Then it shifted to coffee and news, dog walking, then breakfast. This past week each day started with a token dog walk, then coffee and news, then breakfast. Once we reach the driveway, Clio turns to go in because she is DONE.

I'm still a bit flummoxed about how few bugs there are this year. The bee balm is now blooming, which is attracting bees, naturally, but not as many as other years. I wonder if our crazy weather has thrown Mother Nature into disarray. Maybe that is why the robins did not eat the serviceberries this year - bad timing.

The coneflower I planted last spring is blooming, and so tall I can't see the rudbeckia behind it. Goldfinch love the coneflower seeds; we'll see if they show up. I'm losing faith in what's "normal" in the backyard gardening world.

I'm behind in weed control while I've been busy watering all the newbies (and a few oldies). Speaking of which, I'd better get to that right now.

Word of the day: foliaceous

I've complained here about how my native plants are not very showy. By that I mean that there isn't much color besides green, green, green. It turns out that green is not green is not green. There are shades of green and textures and shapes that, when combined, create interest.

Foliaceous means resembling or pertaining to leaves. Mother Nature is very foliaceous. (Photo by my daughter while we kayaked at Chain o' Lakes State Park.)

And so is my yard. You just have to look with fresh eyes.

I finished transplanting the seedlings. Well, sort of. Some Profusion zinnias went in empty spots in the beds in the front yard, some volunteer zinnias moved from a container to the coneflower bed, a dozen or so Profusion zinnias went into the containers, the amaranth is now in a bare area on the south side of the house, and the leftover Profusion zinnias are now in a bed along the driveway at my SO's house. All that remains are the wild strawberry and wild petunia seeds in the refrigerator that I have been ignoring.

Two of the 'Amber Jubilee' ninebark were replaced this week, as they were more than half dead. They never developed roots. It's a mystery why one is doing fine but two did not.

My neighbor's lawn treatment guy has been a bit too generous with the pellets he spews about. Enough landed under the 'Perfect Purple' flowering crab to kill one catmint and seriously damage two others. I talked to the neighbor and she talked to the lawn treatment company, but I decided to be proactive and protect the replacements. (Said replacements had been in a container, transplanted to the coneflower bed where they were seriously overshadowed, so they are happier now under the crab.)

It sounds like the baby wrens have flown the nest, while a new (or same?) pair of bluebirds is inhabiting the bluebird house. The coneflower is starting to bloom, which means it is summer. The weather certainly says so. We've had some delightful days, but a heat wave is on its way. All I have to do at this point is keep all the newbies watered.

It's a goose parade!

While walking the dog the other day, I witnessed this multi-family gaggle of geese marching down to the neighborhood pond. There are at least 25 of them, maybe three sets of parents. This is something Canada geese do after hatching their brood - they combine families, the better to protect them.

The butterfly weed is starting to bloom. I'm keeping an eye on the plants to see if any caterpillars start munching on them. They need to get more fully established before becoming a food source. Not that I've seen many butterflies so far this year.

After my kvetching about the lack of wildlife in my yard, the other day I spotted the first hummingbird of the season amongst the penstemon. And I've seen goldfinch as well. If the robins don't eat the serviceberry, though, I'm going to harvest it myself.