Trees, Earth’s largest and longest-lived plant forms, are Nature’s gift to us. They provide for our sustenance—giving us fire, fruit, shade, shelter, medicine, and soil enrichment—and they beautify our environment. Fittingly, trees hold a lofty position in many cultural traditions, symbolizing qualities such as wisdom, fertility, courage, or strength. And the prominence of trees in folkloric and religious practices reminds us of the many blessing they bestow. For some people trees offer solace, for others they represent ongoing life, and for others they enlarge the definition of “community.”
Wendell Berry, novelist and essayist, sees trees from this last perspective. “You’ve got to understand what kind of creature a tree is…they have to receive from us certain deference, a certain respect, as we would extend to any neighbor.”
When trees are seen as our neighbors, commingling in everyday life, they become a part of our family, standing as silent sentinels, growing amid—and despite—the tumult of human activity. It is the idea of a tree as ally and protective presence that stirs my imagination and compels me to “talk to the trees.”
In my visits to The New York Botanical Garden I often silently talk to the trees. I have special trees that I go to again and again. One of my favorites is the grand Katsura tree (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) that is standing on the right side of the Library building. At any time of year I can walk beneath its spreading boughs and feel a sense of lightness envelop me. The peace and serenity that permeates the atmosphere is palpable. It is as Eckhart Tolle writes in his book Stillness Speaks: “When you look at a tree and perceive its stillness, you become still yourself.” In my case, it is more than looking, it is a true communion.
Sonia Uyterhoeven is Gardener for Public Education at The New York Botanical Garden.
While many of us are thinking about curtailing our spending in this economic climate and talk of reduction seems more appropriate than expansion, for the plantaholic this could potentially be a sobering year. Fortunately for gardening enthusiasts, our good friends across the Atlantic always have some good advice to offer.
Last summer I spent some time over at the late Christopher Lloyd’s legendary garden, Great Dixter, in England learning from the garden’s life force, Fergus Garrett. Fergus is a marvelous combination of passionate plantsman, colorful and creative designer, and experienced educator who is able to communicate his vision.
During my visit he imparted many important design lessons that I will share with you in this and future blog posts. The gardens at Great Dixter are full; in fact they are exploding with plants arranged in a glorious display. Fergus is a big proponent of interplanting and underplanting. No space is wasted in this economical vision.
The question of any seasoned gardener who has undoubtedly experimented with cramming as many plants as possible into a limited space only to see the creation collapse is “How do you make it succeed?”
Fergus has a multi-layered approach to design. He creates his borders the same way you and I would put together a jigsaw puzzle. He works in a piecemeal way—starting with a few initial pieces and then building and slowly improving on the scene. In this design process, he is constantly exploring the seasonal dimension of the borders, the shapes involved, and the partnerships and interactions that are forming between the plants.
As an experienced plantsman, one key component in his design process is to understand and work with the space that plants need to thrive, either individually or in groups. In the example pictured here, he ingeniously works purple clematis into a hardy fuchsia (unfortunately, not hardy in New York).
The clematis benefits from the support of the lanky stems of the fuchsia, which allows it to climb through in an unhindered and happy fashion. The large, flat shape of the clematis contrasts beautifully with the small tubular flowers on the fuchsia. The design is completed with the color echo of the purple clematis and the dangling purple petals on the fuchsia, both dramatically offset by the fuchsia’s bright red sepals and stamens.
As seen in the photo, the plants form what Fergus refers to as a happy union or marriage, where the plants bring out the best in each other and sustain or support each other as they grow. Next week we will explore his practice of layering plants in more detail.
Samantha Buck is an Interpretation Intern for Public Education.
Recently, I took a Forest Tour with the very knowledgeable Garden Tour Guide Ken Lloyd. For those of you who don’t know what a Garden Tour Guide is, as I didn’t, they are expertly trained volunteers who are essential to the Garden’s success.
It was a nippy day to say the least, especially since I was unprepared for the tour and as such hadn’t dressed in layers as I normally would have had I known (I take pride in my preparedness being a Mainer born and raised). So off I went with Ken in my dress pants and sneakers, braving the chilly air and our runny noses to explore some of the trees in the Garden.
Our first stop was at the umbrella pines that, as Ken pointed out, were planted in the very early 1900s. Their red-colored bark and multi-stemmed trunks made them a unique stop on our adventure. Just past the Everett Children’s Adventure Garden, we stopped at the Chinese elms along the road. Ken explained how Dutch elm disease, an introduced fungus, had decimated the American elm population. He also stated that there are some elm species that can be treated for the disease and others that are resistant to it.
On entering the Forest, I felt I was in the most peaceful place in the city. The Forest is kept as natural as possible—there is no snow removal from the paths, no native trees are cut, and life is allowed to take its course. However, invasive species that encroach the area are removed and fires that start are put out. None of the descriptive signs I encountered elsewhere on the Garden grounds were present in the Forest, but Ken was able to discern the species from their bark or the form of the tree itself, by the way the branches grow and the shape of their buds. The only signs present were placed only on a few trees in order to track changes that occur over time. Volunteers record these changes once a month.
I also learned the reason why the trees aren’t any bigger or older in the Forest, despite the lack of human involvement. During the last Ice Age, a fair bit of the soil was removed by glaciers and deposited into the ocean. As a result of this shallow soil, it is difficult for the trees to establish a good root system that would allow them to reach monstrous heights.
I highly recommend taking one of The New York Botanical Garden’s many Tour Guide-led tours—it was definitely one of the highlights of my internship here. I learned a substantial amount despite my damp, cold feet. Just be sure to dress appropriately for the weather so you’re able to immerse yourself completely in the experience.
A guided Forest Tour will be held on Saturday, January 31, at 12:30 p.m. Meet at the Reflecting Pool in the Leon Levy Visitor Center.
Todd Forrest is Vice President for Horticulture and Living Collections.
A majestic red oak grows alongside a trail in the 50-acre old-growth Forest at the heart of The New York Botanical Garden. In the mid-1980s, scientists determined that this tree was nearly 250 years old. It sprouted from an acorn before the Revolutionary War and grew to maturity as New York blossomed from a colonial outpost into the greatest city in the world.
Every time I pass this oak I am reminded of the passion, vision, and dedication to adding something wonderful to our city and our country that drove our predecessors to create The New York Botanical Garden in 1891. I am reminded that they chose this site in 1895 because of the unparalleled beauty of its natural landscape and then preserved this landscape as the surrounding city grew and grew. I am reminded of the countless people who have come to the Garden to learn about plants: their beauty, their natural history, their planting and care, their genomes. I am reminded of my responsibility to keep the Garden’s plants and landscape healthy, diverse, and beautiful so that others today and in the future will have the opportunity to make the sustaining connection to nature that has been such a gift to me.
Botanical gardens are where art, nature, and science come together. They are where artists and gardeners come for inspiration, where students and teachers come to experience and better understand the beauty and complexity of nature, and where scientists come to work on solving nature’s most vexing mysteries. Botanical gardens matter now more than ever.
Senda letter of support to state government leaders and forward the Save the Planet widget (at right) to your friends so that they, too, can help.
Hear from the Garden’s own Fran Coelho and Jeff Downing as they explain in their own words just why botanical gardens matter.
At a moment in history when an ever-increasing body of scientific evidence indicates that climate change is real and related to human activity (We collectively burn 85 million barrels of oil a day, according to The New York Times)…
When a growing community of researchers, educators, and concerned parents all lament the increasing distance between children and nature, and the negative consequences for children’s health, education, and environmental understanding…
At a time when technology offers a synthesized, digitized alternative to actual physical activity, reinforcing sedentary habits and increasing the incidence of childhood obesity and a host of related health issues…
In an era when American competitiveness is questioned and our ability to stimulate students’ interest in the scientific fields that will foster the engines of future economic growth lags other countries…
As more and more Americans become engaged in the discussion about the world’s food supply—where does it come from, what’s in it, is it safe, and can I do more to grow some portion of it at home?…
And when many jobs in horticulture and related fields go wanting for applicants at a time when millions of Americans are looking for new career paths that might provide rewarding careers, while at the same time helping in some small way to reduce the impacts of these pressing national and global issues…
…Botanical gardens matter.
Education is fundamental to the core mission of botanical gardens. At The New York Botanical Garden, education programs reach students from pre-K to post-grad and are designed to develop environmental awareness, to assist in improving science education in schools, and to prepare students for their own “Green Careers” in horticulture-related professions. Annually, 75,000 schoolchildren, many from the Bronx, visit the Garden to learn about plant science, gardening, and the rich ecology of our local forests, rivers, and wetlands.
Who wants to tell those schoolchildren to stay inside?
Senda letter of support to state government leaders and forward the Save the Planet widget (at right) to your friends so that they, too, can help.
Hear from the Garden’s own Fran Coelho and Jeff Downing as they explain in their own words just why botanical gardens matter.
Living museums such as The New York Botanical Garden face a 55 percent cut in New York State funding this fiscal year, and the budget for zoos, botanical gardens, and aquaria may be completely eliminated in the next fiscal year. If Governor Paterson’s proposal is passed by the New York State Legislature, it will destroy a program that has provided consistent and steadily increasing support for the Garden for over 30 years.New York Times reporter Andrew Revkin recently blogged about the situation on Dot Earth. In response, the Garden’s Vice Presidents for Science, Education, and Horticulture each posted comments to the blog regarding why botanical gardens matter.
Their insightful remarks are so moving that we are presenting them here in Plant Talk in a three-part series beginning today. We hope their stories will inspire you to comment, to send a letter of support to state government leaders, and to forward the Save the Planet widget to your friends so that they, too, can help.
James S. Miller, Ph.D., is Dean & Vice President for Science and the Rupert Barneby Curator for Botanical Science.
I grew up in a part of Maryland where I could walk out the door of our house and into the woods, where I learned to appreciate and value the diversity of plants and animals through regular contact. The world was a simpler place with fewer than 3 billion people.
As the current world population approaches 7 billion, an ever-increasing percentage of children are growing up in urban environments where contact with nature is more difficult, certainly less frequent, and as development continues, the places where one can experience natural environments become fewer and fewer. I fear that more people today do not have the regular contact that allowed me to develop an affection for nature, which guides my fervent desire to preserve it so that future generations can appreciate the wonder of the plants and animals that share our planet.
In this light, I feel that botanical gardens can provide us with the opportunity to see and learn about plants and experience the spectacular diversity that they present. Just as we can learn about animals at a zoo, we can learn to care about plants at botanical gardens and appreciate their importance to us as food, medicines, other materials, and understand that they define the environment in which all terrestrial life exists.
Our only hope for preserving the amazing biological diversity on Earth is the opportunity to learn enough about plants in botanical gardens and elsewhere so that future generations care enough to make their continued protection and sustainable use a priority.
Hear from the Garden’s own Fran Coelho and Jeff Downing as they explain in their own words just why botanical gardens matter.
Sonia Uyterhoeven is Gardener for Public Education at The New York Botanical Garden.
I am always surprised by the long weekends we have in January and February. I seem to remember all the holidays except for the ones that sneak up in mid-winter. Since I never plan for them, they turn into three days of extended housecleaning. The piles on my desk diminish and bills finally get filed in the right place. During these moments, I swear to good housekeeping practices that I never abide by.
Gardening is much the same. If I abide by a few simple rules and good horticultural practices then I won’t find myself swamped with one big green, leafy mess. Today, I will focus on just one aspect of horticulture: good weeding practices. Here are a few simple tips to make weeding easier.
Keep your garden a reasonable size: Don’t be over ambitious. Be honest about how much time you intend to spend in your garden and how much work it will take.
Stagger your spring planting: Freshly cultivated soil is an invitation for weeds. If you plant your beds all at once, you will be weeding them at the same time. Stagger you planting over a few weeks.
Low maintenance plants for the low maintenance gardener: If you don’t like weeding, choose plants that out-compete weeds. Select plants with broad foliage and heavy branching or ones that are large, tall, or vigorous growers. If the plant is doing its job of filling up the space, there will not be enough room or light for weeds to enter.
Weed often: It’s important to weed often not only to keep weeds at bay, but also for your general health. If you try weeding your entire garden all at once, you will have sore muscles at the end of the day.
Attack flowering weeds or weeds that are about to flower first: If you let weeds go to seed, you will have an uphill battle. Prioritize by removing flowering weeds first.
Weed early in the season: Tiny weeds are easier to pull than big weeds. Early weeding also gives the plants you want in your garden a better chance of becoming established.
Hoe when dry, hand when wet: If your soil is dry, run a hoe through your garden. Weeds exposed to hot sun without any water will shrivel up and die in no time. Rake off the debris. If you try using a hoe when your soil is wet, weeds will simply re-root. When your soil is wet is the time to tackle deep-rooted weeds like dandelions—they will be much easier to pull
Colors of Cardinals, Ducks, and More Dazzle Against the Snow
Debbie Becker leads a free bird walk at the Garden every Saturday from 11 a.m. to 12:30 p.m., beginning at the Reflecting Pool in the Leon Levy Visitor Center.
Winter birding at NYBG is always a delight. Once the deciduous trees have shed their leaves all is visible. Streaks of winter sun embrace the Forest and ignite the trees in deep silhouettes and wonderful brown hues. There is something about the frosty sunlight that brings out the vibrant color of the birds. The red-bellied woodpecker’s cap glows in red amber as the bird climbs a tree barking for attention. The northern cardinals are so brilliant in the sun as they sit on the bare branches—their red and orange feathers a sharp contrast to the white snow and brown tree stems. Even the blue jays’ cerulean feathers glow like a Matisse as the birds peck around the snow for morsels to eat.
Perhaps the most spectacular sight in winter are the ducks on the Bronx River. White-and-crimson-orange hooded mergansers bob in the gentle flow of the river, their white heads parallel to the white snow on the river’s banks. The female with her spiked burgundy head is a sharp contrast and a delight to watch as she dives under the water searching for food.
Cedar waxwings dressed in yellow, red, and beige with a black mask pop yellow, red, and purple crabapples off the branches and into their beaks, making the perfect palette of color come alive.
Tiny black, gray, and white chickadees dance on the sweet gums’ brown sticky seed balls, pecking inside for the last of the autumn treat. Flocks of white-throated sparrows dance in the oak leaves on the ground, hopping back and forth in efforts to dislodge a hibernating spider from its berth. It is a well-choreographed movement that can be played in one’s mind to Beethoven’s Fifth.
One of the great joys of winter birding is hand-feeding chickadees. It is at this time of year that the chickadees, tufted titmice, and occasionally a cardinal are apt to land in one’s outstretched palm if you offer black oil sunflower seeds or roasted peanuts. The birds need the food for nourishment and to keep warm during the cold days of winter. Chickadee use a technique of shivering to keep their body temperatures high enough to survive and the protein from the sunflower and peanuts give them the fuel to perform the shivering technique.
Red-tailed hawks, Cooper’s hawks, and sharp-shinned hawks are also quite visible as they quietly sit on a branch waiting to pounce on their next victim.
In the quietness of the snow, in the shadows of the winter sun, the birds often reflect the silence of the season with a warm melody of song.
In the past year the Garden has developed a number of training programs in conjunction with the New York City Parks Department to help increase the pool of capable job candidates. First, the Garden’s Horticulture and Education divisions collaborated on an urban tree care course to train a new generation of Parks foresters. Next, the Garden designed a special course for the Parks Opportunity Program, which trains local career-seekers in the fundamental skills necessary for the numerous vacant horticulture positions at the Parks Department and elsewhere. Recently, the Garden devised yet another program, one that is training 30 competitively selected 18–24-year-olds to help facilitate Mayor Bloomberg’s Million Trees Initiative.
The common thread in all of these wonderful initiatives is opportunity: Even in uncertain economic times the field of horticulture offers a wealth of career prospects for those willing to learn the required professional skills. And the opportunities are not just in New York City but throughout the region and beyond.
It has hit me that we at the Garden need to do a better job of spreading the word about the multitude of horticulture-related career tracks—from propagation and plant care to arboriculture, landscape and garden design, and horticultural therapy (using plants in therapeutic settings). So in the fall, the Garden’s Continuing Education program organized a couple of free Career Information Sessions and asked recent Continuing Ed certificate recipients to come and discuss their experience in the Garden’s education program and how it helped them get started in a new career.
Landscape Design graduate Robert Welsch talked about his burgeoning business, Westover Landscape Design, in Westchester. Sheri Forster explained how the Horticulture certificate she earned just this past spring allowed her to jumpstart a thriving business of her own, The Scottish Gardener, in Manhattan. Other former students and program instructors rounded out the evenings, giving their own unscripted and unedited appraisals of the business of horticulture and the Garden’s education programs. The give and take was free flowing, and those who came asked all the questions I would want to know if I were thinking about a new career such as:
If I invest the time and money to learn these skills, will there really be career opportunities available when I complete a certificate?
Do the Garden’s certificate programs provide all the knowledge and skills needed to really do this?
Do I have to commit to a whole program before I really know whether this is for me, or can I start with a short introductory class and see how it goes?
If you missed these informative sessions but are interested in learning the answers to these questions (and any others) about careers in horticulture and landscape design, we’ve arranged to do the whole thing again, with a new group of students and instructors. So mark your calendar for Wednesday, January 28, from 6 to 8 p.m. and pre-register to attend our free Career Information Session.
Trees, Earth’s largest and longest-lived plant forms, are Nature’s gift to us. They provide for our sustenance—giving us fire, fruit, shade, shelter, medicine, and soil enrichment—and they beautify our environment. Fittingly, trees hold a lofty position in many cultural traditions, symbolizing qualities such as wisdom, fertility, courage, or strength. And the prominence of trees in folkloric and religious practices reminds us of the many blessing they bestow. For some people trees offer solace, for others they represent ongoing life, and for others they enlarge the definition of “community.” 
In my visits to The New York Botanical Garden I often silently talk to the trees. I have special trees that I go to again and again. One of my favorites is the grand Katsura tree (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) that is standing on the right side of the Library building. At any time of year I can walk beneath its spreading boughs and feel a sense of lightness envelop me. The peace and serenity that permeates the atmosphere is palpable. It is as Eckhart Tolle writes in his book Stillness Speaks: “When you look at a tree and perceive its stillness, you become still yourself.” In my case, it is more than looking, it is a true communion. 
reduction seems more appropriate than expansion, for the plantaholic this could potentially be a sobering year. Fortunately for gardening enthusiasts, our good friends across the Atlantic always have some good advice to offer.
As seen in the photo, the plants form what Fergus refers to as a happy union or marriage, where the plants bring out the best in each other and sustain or support each other as they grow. Next week we will explore his practice of layering plants in more detail.
Winter birding at NYBG is always a delight. Once the deciduous trees have shed their leaves all is visible. Streaks of winter sun embrace the Forest and ignite the trees in deep silhouettes and wonderful brown hues. There is something about the frosty sunlight that brings out the vibrant color of the birds. The red-bellied woodpecker’s cap glows in red amber as the bird climbs a tree barking for attention. The northern cardinals are so brilliant in the sun as they sit on the bare branches—their red and orange feathers a sharp contrast to the white snow and brown tree stems. Even the blue jays’ cerulean feathers glow like a Matisse as the birds peck around the snow for morsels to eat.