Multiflora Malevolence

As one with a tendency for being not only anthropomorphic, but indeed convinced of the close relationship between species, it is not such a stretch for my imagination to attribute a certain deliberate perniciousness to this alien rose from Japan. Though long ago I had originally read reports of its efficacy as both food and shelter for birds, once I became familiar with the demonic nature of Rosa multiflora, I made my own interpretation and condemned it as a garden villain of the first rank.

As the pictures show, it can beguile with its beauty. In addition, because its leaves label it as a rose when first impressions are being made, gardeners accept it as a desirable addition to their property. They inevitably live to rue the decision though, especially if it's allowed ample time to penetrate in its insidious way, all four corners of the owner's property. And the word insidious is appropriate, because this garden devil, be convinced, hides itself in the depths of existing shrubs while it gains strength and power. Just yesterday while pulling into the driveway, I saw it peek from the shrub border. Though it had successfully camoflaged itself in sunlight, night illumination by car headlights revealed its surreptitious presence.

Of course a plant must have more egregious qualities than that it wildly propagates itself to deserve these diabolical descriptions. Though wild propagation is surely a curse in any plant, Norway Maples come to mind, there are other garden crimes that put it in a class by itself. As an alien without any insect foes, most noteworthy for a rose, it out competes most any plant that formerly occupied a given location in your garden. It tolerates shade well, though it prefers sun, and this tolerance allows it to bide its time in the shadow of another before climbing, if need be, and eventually crushing it to the earth in its mission to achieve dominance. In a wild section of my own yard, which I have been attempting for some time to tame, it seems to smile at me from as much as fifteen feet up on a pear tree that it has climbed with its partner in crime, poison ivy, which protects it from my approach. There it punishes the pear tree with its weight and sun blocking presence.

Finally, this infernal nuisance has a behavior that begs being called maliciously intelligent. If it is approached with garden shears or pruning saw for the purpose of elimination, it is not passive but pugnaciously defends itself by attaching even its dismembered parts to seemingly every fiber of one's clothing and skin. With the thorns with which it is so effectively armed, it will tear shirt and arm, pant and thigh, until the best avenue of retreat from the beast you had set out to subdue is alone on your mind.

Yes, this rose will attract the birds, but then with their help in deseminating the seeds, it will spread throughout your yard. Don't be tempted by the shiny rose leaves, almost luminous white flowers, or attractive red berries; ban it from the start, and leave animal food and shelter provisioning to the native plants that know how to behave.

The Garden and the Earth

Looking toward the garden to learn more about ourselves may seem a circuitous way to arrive at needed knowledge, but I have long been sold on the marriage, acknowledged or not, between man and the natural world. Though in discussion I may wax assertive about my beliefs and speculations on the efficacy of certain gardening techniques, or sometimes grow loquacious on the desirability of one plant type over another; when the proverbial dust has settled, I'm a gardener because it allows a closeness and understanding of nature that makes me feel more complete as a human being and member of the planet.

With these thoughts in mind, late this afternoon my daughter and I saw "An Inconvenient Truth," the documentary film on global warming now in selected theatres. Neither of us was disappointed with the experience, though I found it disturbing and frightening, and also, as it regarded human behavior, penetratingly provocative.

The film is presented entirely in documentary fashion, though I found after the first thirty minutes that I was no longer conscious of format at all. Al Gore, nearly our elected president in that memorable election, evinced a passion on the subject that I found palpable and real. I quickly came to realize that this was not some new diversion for him, but his long time first interest in life. Whether everything he asserted was scientifically correct, and I'm inclined to believe it was, Gore's own conviction and sense of purpose in addressing a growing and alarming crisis was indisputable. As stated in the film, he has given this presentation via slide shows at least a thousand times all over the planet, and he has researched on all continents the evidence he presents so persuasively.

Of course if this were a less volatile and disputed subject, it would not be the event it is. Gore's one time political aspirations and well known political philosophy open the flood gates for opposing views, and, as we know, wherever politicians take a position, there seems never a shortage of heated disagreement. On this subject, however, extending this tradition could prove tragic. The earth continuing to warm unchecked in future years could actually, according to the presentation, change mankind's role on the planet like no other event in known history.

The premise of the film, stripped to its bare skeleton, is that man's industrial activity is spewing forth carbon dioxide at a rate causing great problems. The heat from the sun's rays is being impeded from escaping into space as, according to ice samples excavated in the Antarctic, it has not been in the last thousand years. The resulting increased heat on earth, the documentary explains, manifests itself in numerous ways, most of them destructive. Among the probable results are more violent storms and a rising sea level that will flood low lying areas all over the globe, displacing as many as a hundred million people. In addition, if the ocean currents are affected as scientists believe they will be, a new ice age could be upon us more rapidly than experience would have us believe.

Horrific picture of the future, for sure; true, well, that's where the debate is active. But debate on these issues is a good and desirable thing, as long as the participants are informed and open to changing, upon proof, their viewpoints. Where my discouragement sits is upon those who refuse to see this informative and provocative film, those believing that decisions can be made without knowledge. Disagree if that opinion is the result of analysis, but make the determination on a solid understanding of the science behind the issue.

I'll end with a paraphrase of a quote presented in the film. It goes something like: "It is hard to persuade someone of a truth, when the livelihood of that person depends upon not believing it."

Goldfinch Magnet

When a tree combines the attraction of moving and fascinating color alongside its own noteworthy beauty, it's not an exaggeration to call it a champion in the garden. The River Birch pictured above fits this description and is a most welcome addition to any property vested in the attraction of wildlife and four seasons of beauty and interest. With exfoliating bark of a soft crème color, and the inclination to send up multiple trunks forming a clump, it's difficult to determine what season shows its beauty off most. But for its ability to attract the American Goldfinch, it is in June that it most shines.

When I first began my garden, I had a blank slate to work from; the property had been a cow grazing field with only grass from north to south. Though it offered a challenge and demand for patience in establishing any density or height in the landscape, it was remarkably fertile from many years of diligent bovine fertilization. Fortunately I knew from experience that my real interest rested not so much in the different species I would plant, but in the plant/animal relationships these species might generate. The selection of a sterile cherry that would never set fruit or the Asian birch that would befuddle our New England birds and insects was anathema to me; I desired only those species that traditionally belonged in a Northern Massachusetts setting. Hence, with a vision of the future wildlife garden in mind, I headed down to the now defunct Ann and Hope department store to see what tree bargain might be available. With my six year old daughter to help, I returned with a multi-stemmed River Birch seedling in the back of my hatchback Honda Civic. That was thirteen years ago; the tree is now forty feet high and as wide. It's the prize of the property.

Each June about this time the catkin containing seeds mature and attract hundreds of yellow goldfinch. On certain days and at any given moment, it is impossible to count the birds in the canopy. Like Monarch butterflies on milkweed, the tree is splashed with dabs of brilliant yellow moving from branch to branch and acrobatically munching on catkins. Whether relaxing on the back deck or working to maintain order amongst the surrounding shrubs and trees, this colorful drama thrusts the viewer into a realization of the wonders of nature that insists upon contemplation, and supplies me with the reward of reflection that made planting and caring for the plant so worthwhile.

One of the pictures above shows a branch weighty with almost ripe catkins, and in days the yearly visitation by the area goldfinch will begin in earnest, though I've seen individual scouts checking the tree out for the past week. When the feeding frenzy begins, it is easy to imagine that every American Goldfinch in all of the surrounding towns is aware of the feast, so it is obvious that this relationship between bird and tree benefits both. The bird gains nutrition while the tree's seeds get disseminated.

I found the species very easy to grow and recommend it to all. It needs full sun and a moist soil. Indeed, a section of the property that has a tendency to get wet would suit it best. It grows quickly in an acid soil and, since it's a native here in Massachusetts, knows well how to handle our unpredictable weather. Invite the goldfinch, plant a River Birch.

The Delights of Mulch

It's rainy here in Eastern Massachusetts, so the garden is now more an object to consider and reflect upon than to work in. This, however, does not mean that its enjoyment is reduced or impaired, but simply that its focus has changed. Last night as I was reading in my living room, I opened a window to better appreciate the sound of rain softly striking the soil and plant surfaces. The pleasant experience of simply pausing to listen to this sound must be imbedded in our composition, for there's no questioning how relaxing it is.

I was expecting this pleasure but was further delighted by a scent that I had long associated with vacation and woodland hikes. As it wafted from the soil surface into the room, it brought to mind still another reason to bring a creature friendly environment to the doorstep, and to delight in the existence of mulch. When gardening for wildlife, as well as for yourself, it is important to leave a surface of natural mulch around the plants. Supplied by fallen leaves from seasons past, this organic decomposing layer provides a habitat for multitudes of tiny creatures crucial to the beginning of the garden food chain. Birds, reptiles, and mammals depend upon it; indeed, they cannot live without it.

Knowing of the importance of nature's mulch is especially important for those meticulous gardeners who mean well, but laboriously clean out the leaf refuse beneath their shrubs and trees. Something in their make-up recoils at the accumulation of decaying leaves that they see as a mess, and though they may also delight in the sound and beauty of ground feeders like song sparrows or bluebirds, their lack of understanding insures that the vision of these creatures finding welcome in their garden will not be realized.

There are other reasons why a mulch is essential in the growing of garden plants, reasons like the moderation of soil temperature that actually makes the plant's life possible, or the future organic quality of the soil that insures the viability of the plant's life. To underestimate and neglect the importance of mulch will lead to a garden's demise, as well as to the detriment of any effort to attract the beauty of the animal world.