Landis volunteer Susan Strangia led the event—which had a dozen participants. She has been interested in the outdoors since youth and began volunteering at the Arboretum in May 2021. This was following her retirement from the New York State Office of Mental Health. She began snowshoeing about 15 years ago. “Snowshoeing is so much like hiking, but allows access to trails with deep snow,” Susan said. “Snowshoeing preserves trails for cross-country skiers as well, since winter hiking in boots can result in holes where you sink in.” Landis’ volunteer coordinator Anne Donnelly, who has guided the Second Sunday Snowshoe previously, also attended. She was available to answer questions while preparing for the walk and throughout the event. Anne smiled while holding up a pair of old wooden framed snowshoes with rawhide (babiche) webbing. She wanted to show the group an example of what snowshoes used to look like compared to the aluminum ones typically used today. “I’m from the North Country and hunting on snowshoes was part of my childhood,” she said. Susan helped outfit the attendees with snowshoes near the red barn. She provided a brief history of the winter sport, as well as some safety tips prior to guiding the trek through the glistening snow. A majority of the group had tried out the winter activity at least once previously. However, Susan said Landis is a great place to try out snowshoeing because there are a variety of trails for different interests, skill levels and terrain. Following the event, Susan said, “I hope folks will have a basic understanding of how snowshoes work, how to put them on and take them off, walk comfortably as well how to ascend and descend,” she said. While on the Fred Lape Trail, Anne pointed to the Crab Apple and Lilac collections, enticing the participants to visit during the spring months while the trees are in bloom. Jenny Harris, from Voorheesville, had never visited the Arboretum. “I really enjoyed the hike and the views,” she said. “I’m definitely going to visit during each season to experience it in different ways,” she continued. “I never realized how much history the Arboretum holds and how active they are globally.” Not only did Courtney and David enjoy their first visit, Courtney was confident she would accomplish her goal of learning to snowshoe by winter’s end. As an artist looking at another artist’s art, I was intrigued by this piece. To me, it spoke about the precarious balance between man and nature. The natural pieces weigh in at a massive 2,275 pounds and dwarf the manmade pieces of steel and reclaimed lumber, perhaps suggesting the enduring stability and power of the natural world.
The Landis Arboretum has a history rich in the arts since its inception. In the 1950s, it was a meeting place for writers of poetry and novels, dancers, painters, actors, and musicians, all using its location and the beauty of nature as the backdrop. Fred Lape, the Arboretum’s founder, was himself an accomplished poet and musician. The Arboretum continues to be a haven for creative minds, welcoming artists of all media: sculptors, painters, musicians, actors, writers. Faced with the demands of childcare, running a household, and a relatively short growing season, I am not one for wasting time with seeds that are no longer viable, and so I’ve learned of an easy way to verify the viability of my seeds before spending time digging in the dirt. This tip will be helpful to determine which seeds in your collection will germinate – before you start filling those containers with potting medium and before you are disappointed.
Spring ephemerals appear from snowmelt to leaf-out in the woodlands. For several reasons, they are rare and becoming rarer. Most of them are slow growing and do not spread readily. Just picking the flowers for a bouquet or stepping on a plant may damage or kill it. Deer graze them, and high deer populations have wiped out many wildflowers. Invasives like garlic mustard outcompete the natives. I was lucky to have hiked with Ed Miller. If they were there, he’d find them! I was also fortunate to have known Holly Emmons when she had a SUNY class on propagating wildflowers, and some of those plants we propagated flourish in my own woodland garden. Dutchman’s Breeches, Squirrel Corn, and Bleeding Heart (all Dicentra sp.) are all native, though I’ve never found them in the wild. Unlike most ephemerals, these plants transplant well. Nick Zabowski has glorious Bleeding Heart available at our spring sales. Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginiana) is delicate pink and white and readily found in Nan’s Fern Glen, as are Hepatica (Hepatica sp.) and Wild Leeks (Allium tricoccum). I’ve also seen Rue Anemone (Anemonella thalictroides) there. Trout Lily, or Dogtooth Violet (Erythronium), with its nodding yellow flower and dappled leaves reminiscent of a brook trout, are sometimes found throughout the woods in large patches, often with Trillium (Trillium). Brilliant yellow Marsh Marigolds or Cowslips (Caltha palustris) are abundant in the ditches at the bottom of the Glen and throughout the Native Plant Trail, thanks to Nan and Ed. They aren’t technically spring ephemerals, but they are spring flowers. Another is Skunk Cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus), a perhaps unlovely arum found in woodland swamps, and its relative Jack-in the-Pulpit (Arisaema sp), both not, strictly speaking, ephemerals, since the foliage persists past spring. Additional interesting woodland flowers of early to mid-spring are Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis), Goldthread (Coptis groenlandica), and Wild Ginger (Asarum canadense). I’m particularly fond of Woods poppy or Celandine poppy (Stylophorum diphyllum), with its lush lobed leaves and deep yellow flowers. This native is easily confused with Celandine (Chelidonia majus), an invasive that looks nearly identical. Celandine spreads easily and blooms even in deep shade all season, making it hard to hate. Virginia waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) has a dusty lavender flower and foliage that appears water spotted. Not a show stopper, but a lovely shady woodland addition. Spring is always a marvelous time for a treasure hunt, and Landis is a perfect place to do it. Just remember to tread carefully and leave the precious riches for others to discover. The George Landis Arboretum is very special to me. I enjoy walking its trails and examining its plants and wildlife, especially the birds. But more importantly, I admire all the people that make Landis such a great institution. Everyone I’ve encountered here is dedicated to making the Arboretum the best it can be. And I look forward to helping them achieve that goal.
My time in the office varies, but usually I am available Mondays and Thursdays starting at 11 AM. During the busy spring and summer months I will also be there on Tuesdays, same time. But I check the phone messages (518-875-6935) and emails ([email protected]) regularly, so don’t hesitate to get in touch with me. Floyd earned an associate’s degree in agriculture applied science from SUNY Cobleskill and continued his education, receiving a Bachelor of Science degree in ornamental horticulture from Cornell University in 1987. He is the current owner of Guernsey’s Nursery in Schoharie, a family-owned business incorporated in 1889. He said that Guernsey’s Nursery was “working on six generations” now – his grandson, Floyd A. Guernsey V, is just four. His sons, Floyd V and Braden, as well as his cousin, Ross Guernsey IV, are also in the family business. He hopes that his grandchildren, Floyd V and Adelaide Poppy Guernsey, will carry on the legacy.
The Guernseys have a longstanding reputation for dedication to the Schoharie community. Floyd, like his father before him, serves in public office. He has been town councilman for 7 years now. His father was the mayor of Schoharie for an impressive 28 years, one of the longest mayoral tenures in New York State. Floyd is a stalwart supporter of village projects and events, including organizing and maintaining the community ice skating rink at Fox Creek Park since 2012. As a source of quality plant material and professional landscaping services, Guernsey’s has been a loyal friend of the Landis Arboretum. Floyd noted that, over the years, numerous trees and shrubs at the Arboretum came from Guernsey’s. The nursery provides plants for the Arboretum’s annual spring and fall plant sales. Most recently, Guernsey’s designed and planted the Arboretum’s new Shanti Vun Meditation Garden. It is his hope that generations to come will enjoy the waterfall, the walking path, stone gardens, and labyrinth as much as he enjoyed creating them. Does he garden at home? Floyd cited the proverbial “The shoemaker’s children always go barefoot.” Floyd views the Arboretum as another valuable community asset and is fully committed to its support. The Arboretum’s several hundred acres of largely undeveloped green space provide the public with a place to learn – “a real way to understand ecology,” he said. In addition, Landis offers the current generation an opportunity to unplug from “electronic stimulus” and plug into “nature stimulus.” Donating time and expertise to benefit the community is in Floyd’s DNA. It is very much a family tradition, one spanning several generations. According to Floyd, his and his family’s service to the community repays itself “1000 percent.” The Landis dial, prominently installed on the front of the Barn, is a vertical declining dial, set to display Eastern Daylight Time (March to November). During Eastern Standard Time, subtract one hour from the dial readings. The 'Hour Lines' are diagonal lines radiating from a spot near the top of the dial. Lines corresponding to whole hours are solid, and half-hour lines are segmented (to avoid confusion). Time is read where the shadow of the top edge of the gnomon (called the 'style') falls among the hour lines. This dial can be used to accurately set one’s watch to within a minute or two, if one knows how to read it! To do so, read the dial and apply the 'Equation of Time,’ a variable quantity that needs to be added to (or subtracted from) the dial reading to obtain 'Mean Time.' This is necessary because sundials show 'Apparent Solar Time,' while watches keep 'Mean Solar Time.' The 'Equation of Time' (EOT) is simply the difference between the two. An EOT plot is included in this article. It shows, for a given date, the correction, in minutes, to apply to the dial reading. If the EOT is negative, that means the dial will be slow relative to watch time and that the number of minutes must be ADDED to the dial reading. If the EOT is positive, SUBTRACT it from the dial reading. In lieu of a 12:00 hour line, there is a funky figure-eight curve on the dial that contains tick marks at the first day of each month. This is an analemma. It basically makes the EOT correction for you. When the center of the tip of the gnomon's shadow is exactly on the curve (between the appropriate month marks associated with the current date), it is precisely 12:00 EDT (11:00 EST).
The two sweeping curved lines on the dial are solstice lines. On the winter solstice (ca. 12/21) the tip of the gnomon's shadow will follow the upper curve throughout the day. The shadow tip will follow the lower curve on the summer solstice (ca. June 21). The diagonal line that cuts through the middle of the dial is the equinox or 'equinoctial' line. On the equinoxes, when the Sun is in the equatorial plane, (ca. 3/20 and 9/21), the tip of the gnomon's shadow will follow that line. Geoff Miller’s avocation is “gnomonics,” the science of sundials. A former resident of the Capital District, he now lives in New Mexico, returning to the area in the summer. He ran in the Arboretum’s 5K race several years ago and offered to construct a sundial for Landis. Acorns are all over the trails in fall, a thick carpet on the autumn leaves. And then by spring they’ve vanished. Where have they all disappeared to? Well, most are devoured by the astonishing diversity of wildlife that feeds on acorns. Like all nuts, acorns are remarkably high in fats and protein, vitamins and minerals--a nutritional powerhouse, perfect for helping you make it through cold winter nights. Gray squirrels eat acorns, of course. But that’s just the beginning. Wild turkeys are nuts for acorns. So are deer. So are blue jays, chipmunks, red foxes, opossums, raccoons, pileated woodpeckers, red squirrels, yellow-bellied sapsuckers, acorn moth caterpillars, meadow voles, white-footed mice, flying squirrels, gray foxes, mallard ducks, wood ducks, crow . . . . Whew! After that onslaught, it’s a wonder there are any acorns left to turn into trees. To cope with the hordes of eager mouths waiting to devour their babies, oak trees use a strategy called predator satiation. In some years, they produce so many acorns that there’s a fighting chance that a few out of all those thousands might actually germinate. “Great oaks from little acorns grow,” is a cliché, of course. (According to the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, it’s been around since the Fourteenth Century.) But how does the process work, exactly? How does a wee baby acorn turn into a three-hundred-year-old giant stretching a hundred feet into the air, weighing many tons? The acorn, like any baby, may appear to be peacefully asleep, but inside, it’s churning with life and growth. The acorn bides its time until conditions of temperature and moisture are just right. Even though they look similar, acorns of different species do it differently. White oak acorns will germinate soon after they fall. Red oak acorns need a period of dormancy, a nap in the cold until spring rolls around. But when the right moment arrives, the embryonic root tip thrusts through the acorn’s husk like a chick pecking its way out of an eggshell. We tend to think of young plants as striving upwards to the sun. But at first, the opposite is true. The young root avoids light. It turns away from the sunshine and tunnels into the soil beneath it like a blind white snake, pushing deeper and deeper. It starts to absorb moisture, and this water powers the next step, the growth of the stem and leaves that seek the light. Only a few acorns sprout, but most don’t survive for long. They’re munched by caterpillars, browsed by deer, weakened by fungi, stepped on by humans. But a few, a very few, survive their perilous infancy. Slow growers, oaks--they don’t do anything in a hurry. It may take years for the youngster to grow ankle-high, then knee-high, then shoulder-high. And then? The sky’s the limit. So, the next time you see a humble acorn on the trail, give it some respect. If it survives the deer and the turkeys and the squirrels, the bugs and the lawnmowers and the fungus, it might be the one that turns into a mammoth tree, a magnificent being that will long outlive you. You never know which acorn will be the one to touch the sky. Anita Sanchez, a longtime friend of the Arboretum and contributor to the Newsletter, is an award-winning author of books on nature for both children and adults. “Hello, Puddle” is her most recent book for young people. The Landis dial, prominently installed on the front of the Barn, is a vertical declining dial, set to display Eastern Daylight Time (March to November). During Eastern Standard Time, subtract one hour from the dial readings. The 'Hour Lines' are diagonal lines radiating from a spot near the top of the dial. Lines corresponding to whole hours are solid, and half-hour lines are segmented (to avoid confusion). Time is read where the shadow of the top edge of the gnomon (called the 'style') falls among the hour lines. This dial can be used to accurately set one’s watch to within a minute or two, if one knows how to read it! To do so, read the dial and apply the 'Equation of Time,’ a variable quantity that needs to be added to (or subtracted from) the dial reading to obtain 'Mean Time.' This is necessary because sundials show 'Apparent Solar Time,' while watches keep 'Mean Solar Time.' The 'Equation of Time' (EOT) is simply the difference between the two. An EOT plot is included in this article. It shows, for a given date, the correction, in minutes, to apply to the dial reading. If the EOT is negative, that means the dial will be slow relative to watch time and that the number of minutes must be ADDED to the dial reading. If the EOT is positive, SUBTRACT it from the dial reading. In lieu of a 12:00 hour line, there is a funky figure-eight curve on the dial that contains tick marks at the first day of each month. This is an analemma. It basically makes the EOT correction for you. When the center of the tip of the gnomon's shadow is exactly on the curve (between the appropriate month marks associated with the current date), it is precisely 12:00 EDT (11:00 EST). The two sweeping curved lines on the dial are solstice lines. On the winter solstice (ca. 12/21) the tip of the gnomon's shadow will follow the upper curve throughout the day. The shadow tip will follow the lower curve on the summer solstice (ca. June 21). The diagonal line that cuts through the middle of the dial is the equinox or 'equinoctial' line. On the equinoxes, when the Sun is in the equatorial plane, (ca. 3/20 and 9/21), the tip of the gnomon's shadow will follow that line. Geoff Miller’s avocation is “gnomonics,” the science of sundials. A former resident of the Capital District, he now lives in New Mexico, returning to the area in the summer. He ran in the Arboretum’s 5K race several years ago and offered to construct a sundial for Landis. Let’s go back to green, a color associated with renewal, tranquility, and grounding. Green is easy to find in our gardens. Most weeds are green! Now imagine a conifer woods full of pines, fir, and hemlock, or a lush shade garden of hosta, ferns, and vinca. It would be easy to sit and relax in this space, meditate, journal, or read. Green is inviting but subtle, not showy, and serves as an excellent background to the bright colors we love. For example, red. On the color wheel, red is the complementary color of green. The plant kingdom is full of many red flowers, including the popular red rose. When you are feeling tired or sad, red can be energizing and motivating. Planting spring blooming red tulips or summer blooming red dahlias can add a lot of flair to both your garden beds and your attitude! The color most associated with cheer and happiness is yellow. Who doesn’t smile when seeing spring daffodils in May or giant sunflowers in August? Yellow also represents courage and friendship and promotes feelings of trust, youthfulness, and ‘fun’. An old-fashioned combination of yellow marigolds, calendula, zinnia, or petunia flowers in white hanging baskets is simple and sweet. Bring on the lemonade! Colors reputed to be the most healing are green, blue, and violet. Though true blue flowers are not easy to find, there are a few, such as blue stars (Amsonia), great blue lobelia, and forget-me-not. Violet and purple shades include lilac shrubs, iris, flowering onion, pansy, salvia, clematis, and aromatic lavender. These blue and purple flowers nestled among green foliage promote a tranquil and calming feeling. Add some gray or silver plants such as artemisia for extra shimmer on a moonlit night. Other colors to mention include orange, which, like yellow, can brighten one's mood. It pairs well with dark purple, green, and black for a fun and sophisticated vibe. Pink is an easy color to find in the garden and most associated with gentleness and good health. Pink pairs well with light yellow, silver, and creamy peach, and this combo can enhance a relaxing and romantic mood. Combining bright pinks, fuschia, purple, indigo, orange and off-white can enhance a creative and modern vibe that shouts “Work hard! Play hard!” Be mindful of the colors and combinations of colors you chose! They can be both healing and appealing, whether in a bouquet or in a garden. Q) “I want to make a compost pile. What can I put in it? Is there anything I should avoid?”
A) From your backyard leaves and grass clippings, to kitchen scraps and plant debris – the good news is that most organic material can be composted. However, note that meat, dairy, fats or oils, pet feces, diseased plants, or weeds that have set seeds, and charcoal or coal ash should be avoided (although a little wood ash is OK). The bulkier organic materials do best in the first ground layer. Next, add in some green materials, such as kitchen waste and grass clippings. Animal manures can serve as activators that accelerate the heating of the pile and provide a nitrogen source for beneficial microbes. Q) “I have discovered the Asian jumping worm in my yard. What can I do?” A) Most of the worms ordinarily encountered in our gardens are beneficial, helping with the soil biota, breaking down organic matter, and aerating our soils. The first step is to accurately identify a jumping worm. An excellent resource is the online downloadable “Asian Jumping Worms: A Homeowner’s Guide,” which can be found at www.ecommons.cornell.edu. If you do indeed have jumping worms, unfortunately there is no simple solution. This invasive species breaks down organic matter faster than it can rebuild, causing an ecological imbalance in our yards and in our forests. The best solution is prevention: be careful of the source of your plant material, top soil, and compost, and inspect any plants you buy or are given from friends. If you discover that you already have jumping worm on your site, do not give away any plants to friends, since the soil could contain worms and/or their egg cases, which are not as easy to see. The worms generally do not live deep in the soil and can often be found just below leaf litter in forests. Hand picking the worms when discovered and placing them in a 5-gallon pail to desiccate will quickly kill them. The dead worms can then be disposed of. Q) “When should I prune my oak tree?” A) Due to a fungal pathogen that causes a disease called oak wilt, the safest time to prune an oak tree in our region is from early December through early February. The reason is because the oak wilt pathogen is not active during the winter months. Q) “Why is my forsythia not blooming or only blooming on its lowest branches?” A) Many of the forsythia plants in our gardens have flower buds that may become damaged during the coldest months in our season. It is often unnoticed because the foliage buds are hardier than the flower buds, so the plant grows out healthy green leaves, but lacks flower power. The reason why plants bloom only at the bottom is snow cover, which insulates the flower buds along the lower parts of stems. Creating a burlap fence can make a protection zone around the plant, helping to prevent cold damage. The fence should be removed each spring and installed again in late fall. There are specific cultivars that are more cold hardy in our area. Q) My Kousa dogwood is becoming too large for the space it’s growing in. Will I have to remove it? A) The answer, which applies to most woody plants in addition to the Kousa dogwood, is that you can reduce it in size by making appropriate cuts. There are diagrams available at www.treesaregood.org to help guide you. A good general rule is to cut back the branches that are too long to laterals which are 1/3 or larger than the diameter of the branches you are cutting back. This will ensure the new branches can assume the terminal role. Another good rule of thumb is to be sure you don’t remove more than ¼ total foliage per year. Some plants which are overly large may need to be reduced over several growing seasons to achieve the desired size. As a member privilege, questions can be emailed to me at [email protected], anytime. Please include a photo or two, and I will be happy to help. To learn more about becoming a member of Landis Arboretum, please visit our website at www.landisarboretum.org. We found trolls with ours! We heard about them on NPR, and since we were planning a family gathering in Maine, I decided to treat the family to a day trip to the Coastal Maine Botanical Garden in Boothbay to see them. There would be 16 of us: basic admission is $22 (reservations required). With our Landis membership, my husband Pat and I got in free, and the rest of the group were admitted for $16 each. The trolls, by Danish artist Thomas Dambo, are at least 20 feet tall, made of recycled wood, and well-integrated with their woodland habitats. Each brings a message from the trees. Even the skeptics who just “came along for the ride” were impressed! Check them out at www.mainegardens.org. For more information about RAP and a complete list of cooperating gardens and arboreta, go to ahsgardening.org/gardening-programs/rap/.
Just as Vijaya was determined to create the Meditation Garden, she also convinced Zep to bring his drum circles to Landis. "It was the chai, " he said, beaming, "Her chai led me in here." Vijaya's homemade chai, rich with the spices of her Indian homeland, charmed Zep and persuaded him to work with her to establish a series of drum circles at the Arboretum the first and third Thursday nights of each month, from 7 to 9 PM, through the summer and into September, weather permitting. Participants new to drum circles were unsure what to expect, but any hesitation quickly dissipated with Zep's welcoming approach and encouragement. He immediately connected with the group, put everyone at ease, and solicited feedback between sets. By the end of the evening, the group was smiling knowingly, relaxed and confident enough to perform without accompaniment. Everyone instinctively continued to play, to find their own sound. "It might just be something the other person came to hear, " Zep told us. We made our own music, our own peace, that memorable July evening. Come and find yours in the serenity of the Meditation Garden and Pavilion. You might want to bring some chai. What will we add next to the Meditation Garden? If you would like to help us support and maintain the Shanti Vun Meditation Garden and Pavilion, consider a donation (tax deductible to the full extent of the law). You can donate safely online here through Donor Box or contact us at [email protected] for information on how to donate by cash or check. All donations are appreciated. Amy Howansky Named NYS Region 3 Certified Nursery and Landscape Professional of the Year, continued9/19/2021
As part of her service on the Council, Amy has led an incentive to increase the diversity of tree species selected for installation on Niskayuna’s streets and parks. She has also initiated a program to encourage residents to grow a tree from seed as part of the town’s annual Arbor Day tree give-away. In her role as a key member of the Plant Sale Committee at Landis, Amy has given new life to the Arboretum’s efforts to make rare and unusual specimens available at our spring and fall plant sales. She has established an ongoing “Small Shrubs for Small Spaces” program to make small plant material available at Arboretum sales and is working to develop a Small Shrub Display Collection on the Arboretum grounds.
Amy has demonstrated her commitment to educating the public as past coordinator of the Master Gardener Program at Cornell Cooperative Extension of Albany County, where she trained Master Gardeners in how to answer gardening questions from the public, and through teaching Landscape Installation, Floral Design, and Greenhouse Production as a Horticulture Trades teacher at Columbia-Greene BOCES. She also advised Schenectady residents on growing their own food during her time as Community Garden Coordinator for Schenectady County’s Cornell Cooperative Extension. She conducts free classes each year at the Capital District Garden and Flower Show, where she has received rave reviews for her ability to explain in-depth horticulture information in an entertaining, patient manner. Amy continues to develop new classes, always using a mix of scientific research reports from universities and in-the-field evidence from her experience designing and installing landscapes. She is committed to encouraging everyone to be more engaged in the environment around them. We are justly proud that Amy is an Arboretum volunteer and community leader! And a bit later in the paragraph: "The discrepancy between the concerns of commercial growers and the individual lover of a good tasting apple is explored, with an in-depth discussion of the dangers of mass production, scientific breeding and reliance on chemicals for cultivation and preservation."
While insightful and monumental in its own right, in 2017, Lape’s Apples and Man also inspired a Wisconsin man, Dan Bussey, to produce The Illustrated History of Apples in the United States and Canada. It is an illustrated hardcover set of seven volumes, each between 500 and 600 pages. Illustrated History is a compendium of every apple variety that has appeared in print in any North American publication in the last two centuries. An online article by atlasobsucra.com titled “Meet the Man on a Quest to Document Every Apple in North America” states: "Bussey, 64, began his pomme-ological quest in 1989, while setting up an orchard in his hometown of Edgerton, Wisconsin. He’d grown interested in heirlooms in 1980, soon after reading the newly released book Apples and Man by Fred Lape, which bemoaned the loss of heirlooms and the poor quality of chemically treated supermarket apples." We have always known of Fred Lape’s world- wide reputation as an insightful and knowledgeable expert on plants. This is another example of the far-reaching effects of his leadership. For reference: The book, Apples and Man, is available in the Schoharie Library. The altasobsucra article is available at: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/history-of-apples
They grow into webs called mycelia, which look like a tangle of whitish yarn. Almost everywhere you walk, on grass, forest, or pavement, there’s a dense web beneath your feet. They wind their way through soil, reach deep into rotting logs, poke into dead animals. And all that fungus is hungry.
Mushrooms are just one type of the strange organisms called fungi. What is a fungus, anyway? For centuries, scientists weren’t quite sure. It looks sort of like a plant, but it eats like an animal. Fungus can’t make its own food from sunlight, air, and water as green plants can. Just as animals do, fungus has to feed on other things—living or dead. A fungus starts out as a spore, a speck so tiny that it’s almost invisible. Carried on the wind, spores can travel far from the parent fungus. If they land in the right place, they germinate, sending out slender, rootlike threads. They grow into webs called mycelia, which look like a tangle of whitish yarn. Almost everywhere you walk, on grass, forest, or pavement, there’s a dense web beneath your feet. They wind their way through soil, reach deep into rotting logs, poke into dead animals. And all that fungus is hungry. When you eat a crunchy pretzel or a tough piece of meat, it goes into your stomach where acids and chemicals called enzymes soften and dissolve it, so you can absorb its nutrition into your body. Fungi digest their food first, then eat it afterwards. The mycelia ooze out powerful enzymes that can soften almost anything, even wood or bone. Once the meal is nice and mushy, the mycelia slurp up the nutrients. Some fungi eat dead animals. Others prefer dead plants. Some are picky eaters: one type of fungus eats only pine cones, while a different species eats only pine needles. Some fungi eat other fungi. There are more than a million kinds of fungus, in all shapes and sizes and colors. One kind looks weirdly like a human hand reaching out of the ground, and it’s called “dead men’s fingers.” Others look like horse hoofs, or striped birds’ tails. Fungi excel at breaking down the tough bonds that hold the molecules of wood together. When fungus feeds on a rotting log, it turns the dead wood into crumbly, dark soil called humus, which is perfect for growing new trees. Perhaps the most noticeable forms of fungi are the little men in the mantles of velvet brown, the umbrella-shaped mushrooms we see scattered across the forest floor after a rain. Mushrooms are just the fruiting part of the fungus. Think of those strands of yarn-like mycelia as the roots, trunk, and branches of an apple tree. The mushroom is the apple. Apples have seeds inside them, and mushrooms have spores, which grow on the underside of the umbrella. But even if you get down on the ground and peek underneath the mushroom cap, you can’t see the spores, they’re too small. Spores need damp soil to germinate. So the mycelia, down there under the ground, wait until things are nice and moist before sending up their spore-making machines. But the ground might dry up soon, so there’s no time to waste. That explains the mystery of why mushrooms will literally spring up overnight after a rain. Keep an eye out for mushrooms on the Arboretum trails this fall. You may not have enjoyed all the damp and wet we had this summer, but the little men of the forest have come out to enjoy the rain. Elizabeth “Betty” Corning was as energetic and forceful as her husband. Elizabeth Norris Platt was educated at the Springside School in Philadelphia and the Florentine School for Girls in Florence, Italy. She married Erastus Corning 2nd in 1932. Betty strongly believed in the value of public gardens as places to feed the mind and soul and exemplified this tenet by supporting many American gardens with her time, talent, and finances. In 1962, Mrs. Corning was elected president of the National Garden Club of America and re-elected the following year. As president, she supported the National Audubon Society’s program to rescue the leopard from extinction. In 1971, she was awarded the Garden Club of America's achievement medal. In 1987, Russell Sage College in Troy awarded her an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters degree. She also served as director of the American Horticultural Society and the New York Botanical Garden. Betty Corning was an important part of the Arboretum, serving for 20 years as a trustee and as president of the Board from 1985 until her death in 1993. As president, she guided the Arboretum through the difficult period after the death of founder Fred Lape in 1985. She oversaw many improvements, including the construction of the Bernard Harkness Library and the greenhouse, along with the rehabilitation and enhancement of the flower gardens. Perhaps her best-known legacy is the Clematis viticella ‘Betty Corning,’ thought to be a cross between C. crispa and C. viticella. It is a late, semi-woody climbing vine, known world-wide for its single, nodding, bell-shaped, pale lilac flowers (to 2” long) with recurved tips. It typically grows to 6’ tall with slightly fragrant flowers that freely bloom from summer to fall. It is a vigorous and easy to grow variety with the spring foliage often tinted with bronze, extending its seasonal interest. In 1932, Betty Corning discovered this plant growing at a small house in Albany, NY. She noticed its unusual color and form and was successful in rooting a number of cuttings. The plant was subsequently registered at the International Center of Woody Plants at the Arnold Arboretum in Boston. The next time you visit the Arboretum, be sure to look for our labeled specimen located in the Van Loveland perennial garden. Begin by standing on the driveway in front of the farm house facing the garden. It is just to the right of the stone patio and stairs which leads out into the field. In 2007 and 2008, Anne was trained and participated in the NYS Dragonfly and Damselfly Survey, which documented the distribution of all Odonata species in NY. These data in turn were to be used in the development of the Comprehensive Wildlife Conservation Strategy for New York State. After her retirement in 2006, Anne began volunteering at the Landis Arboretum. Throughout her tenure as a volunteer, Anne has worked pretty much every job at the Arb at one time or another. Now, she coordinates the volunteers. Anne started giving classes in 2009. “I love teaching and the Arboretum,” Anne said. During the class, which takes place every summer, participants received a diagram which aided in identifying the difference between a dragonfly and damselfly. Anne also had books that were handy for identification. She explained that although both insects are of the taxonomic order Odonata, differences -- such as how they hold their wings at rest -- can help you distinguish them. Dragonflies hold their wings horizontally, perpendicular to their body, while damselflies wings are held along their body at rest. “Go to the pond, stand very still, and get your eyes used to it,” Anne told the group as they anxiously awaited making their first catch. Sisters Millie and Kensi Browning were experienced at catching insects. Their nets quickly swooped between the cattails that lined the pond. Laurel Tormey of Altamont caught a damselfly that Anne was able to identify as a blue-fronted dancer. “I’ve been wanting to learn about dragonflies. I’ve tried on my own, but then I decided to come here,” Laurel said. Anne sat on a picnic table as participants brought their catches over for her to help identify. After catching and releasing many dragonflies and damselflies, the group walked over to explore a new location—the Willow Pond. The class brought Amanda Wyckoff and her family of East Berne to the Arboretum for the first time. “My mother said ‘let’s go’. We’ve never went to something like this before,” Amanda said. Sandy Tasse also brought her kids to the class. Ayrton and Miranda Tasse could be seen standing near the edge of the pond, intently watching their surroundings to make their next catch. “We came two years ago because my daughter really likes bugs, so we drove an hour here to come back,” Sandy said. Participants spent approximately two hours catching and learning about dragonflies and damselflies. By the end of the class, the same children who were quiet strangers before the event could be seen frolicking with new friends, nets in hand. “I’ve done several classes, but this is my favorite,” Anne said. “Especially if I get kids to participate!”
The winter season features an extensive selection of houseplants in the greenhouse along with unique items and ornaments in the gift shop. And, of course, over 1000 trees, plus wreaths and greens for swags, are on hand for the holidays.
Faddegon’s philosophy is to sustain and preserve nature. (Randy recommends reading "The Nature of Oaks" and "Nature's Best Hope" by Doug Tallamy.) In light of that philosophy, it’s easy to understand the link between the Arboretum and this Landis supporter, a wonderful family business. Be sure to explore all that Faddegon’s has to offer at their website: https://www.faddegons.com. It was in the fall of 2019 that she and Sam made their first visit. Morgan remembers lingering by the weeping willow at a pond and finding “a sense of peace there.” “I got lost for a while, caught up in the moment, noticing the surroundings,” she recalled. Especially during COVID, the Arboretum became “a place of refuge” for the two of them.
The couple “played tag” with a pair of barred owls at dusk along the Bass Trail. They lingered at the pond near the Great Oak, watching turtles lined up and sunbathing on a log. They spotted an oriole and a scarlet tanager in the Conifer Collection. She and Sam volunteered at the Spring Plant Sale the following year. And she discovered a sense of purpose. Volunteering at Landis “is something I could care about, be passionate about . . . . . it helps keep the place alive; it sustains it for future generations.” Morgan also found a community: “It was exciting to realize that I have something in common with others . . . . it was a breath of fresh air. I thought, these are my people,” she said. Later in 2020, she joined the Communications Committee, which is the public face of the Arboretum, responsible for its printed and online presence, including the quarterly newsletter. Morgan earned a degree in journalism from SUNY Albany. Having worked as a reporter for both Gloversville’s Leader-Herald and Amsterdam’s Recorder, she was confident that she could share her skills with the committee, as well as those she honed in her current position for Montgomery County. She said that she hopes to bring new ideas to the committee and benefit from other members’ experience. Her research for an article on one of the Arboretum’s nature workshops (“Dragonflies and Damselflies“ in this issue), revealed yet another aspect of the Arboretum, she said. She witnessed people in ages ranging from six to 60 on equal ground, learning by having fun together.” Landis is replete with “learning opportunities, something to appeal to everyone, from beekeeping to birds” and beyond. Morgan grew up with her mother and grandmother nurturing gardens, and over the years her interest in gardening grew. Meeting Sam (a self-described “plant geek”), she said, taught her a lot about plants and gave her confidence in growing them. She and Sam recently purchased a new home with a 2-acre lot, and already their plans include a greenhouse, pruning the neglected apple trees, growing herbs for crafting and sharing, and planting a garden featuring “pass along plants.” They’ve already moved dozens of houseplants into their new home. Morgan grew up in rural Montgomery County. She and her husband now live close to her childhood home. Neither would have it any other way. If it’s been “love at first sight,” it’s also been, as most love affairs are, a voyage of discovery. And Landis and the Landis community have been part of that journey. As we gradually brought this old farm back to life, we piled six feet of soil on roots and trunk on the uphill side, knowing then that was probably its death knell, but it was nearly gone anyway. It survived. In those early years when the storms would rage with nothing to stop the punishing winds, I’d sit by the window in my rocking chair listening for the loud C-R-A-C-K I knew was coming when that old tree broke and fell. It survived.
In anticipation of its demise, we flanked it with two black walnut saplings. The birds, squirrels, and an occasional racoon made it home. Woodpeckers excavated the soft decaying wood. It survived. We hardly noticed when a spindly branch snaked out from the ruined trunk started to thrive, and then other branches also began to gain vigor. Our walnuts were gaining size and we just didn’t pay attention to the wreck of a maple they were to replace. The new maple canopy merged with the walnut. The trunk had built up tissue and callus on the downhill, weight bearing side. It had reversed the aging process! Recently Fred returned from a conference and wrote a brief note about “veteran trees” describing this very phenomenon. A very apt phrase indeed! Our veteran tree is unlovely but beloved. And it survives. Native plants are adapted to the local climate and soil conditions where they naturally occur. In addition to supporting pollinators and other wildlife, native plants are inherently sustainable because they require less watering and fertilization than most non-natives. At Landis, we rely completely on Mother Nature to supply rain, so native plants are a great fit. Looking at the vast variety of blooming wildflowers in fields and along roadsides, it may seem difficult to choose which of these natives to grow in a garden. There are many that might complement your site.
For example, a great spring bloomer is Baptisia australis, blue false indigo. A perennial that grows into a small rounded shrub-like shape of 3’x3’ and produces stems lined with indigo flowers, the Baptisia is not only unique in flower color, but also important for native bees. In fall, large brown seed pods develop on the stems and create a fun rattle sound when shaken, a child’s delight! Asclepias tuberosa, butterfly weed, is one of the prettiest native plants, boasting long lasting blooms of bright orange flowers that attract the monarch butterfly throughout its life cycle. One thing to note is this plant is very late to come up in the spring, and without marking its location, you can easily mistake it for a weed. It is very easy to grow and extremely low maintenance, a true joy in any garden, especially when the monarch butterfly stops by! A few other lovely native plants are Monarda fistulosa, bee balm, which has lavender flowers and can grow in shady areas while tolerating most soil conditions. Also of interest are Lobelia siphilitica, great blue lobelia, and its relative, Lobelia cardinalis, cardinal flower. Great blue lobelia is pollinated by bees that often sleep inside the flower buds, giving it the name “honey bee hotel.” The cardinal flower is one of the truest red flowers found in the plant kingdom and dependent on the ruby-throated hummingbird for pollination, another plus for having it in your garden! There are plenty of fall blooming native plants to enjoy, such as varieties of Asters and Heleniums. Often self-seeders, these plants can easily be pulled out if they are found growing in undesirable spaces, though they are an important late season food source for bees and other insects. As the work in the garden continues this season, one thing is sure: we really enjoy getting together at the Arboretum and talking plants. Cheers to a great crew of volunteers -- and to native plants in the garden! Q) Are moles eating my plants and grass?
A) This is a great question, and the answer is no. Moles are carnivorous animals that feast on worms, grubs and insects, not plants. The culprits are likely voles, which are herbivores and only eat plants. Both live in holes underground, which is probably why moles and voles get confused with each other. Moles typically tunnel while searching for food and leave mounds through the grass, but there will be no visible hole. Voles, too, have a hole, but no mound or tunnels. Voles can also damage trees and shrubs by girdling the base of the trunk and roots. The best control for voles is to use a repellent product and tree protection wraps around your plants, especially in the winter. Q) How do I stop deer and other animals from eating my plants? A) For larger game like deer, tall durable fences work really well. If fencing is not an option, you can make and apply a ‘Deer Be Gone’ product to put around the plants. The product is made by mixing rotted raw eggs, minced garlic, cayenne pepper, lemon juice, and water in a blender, then sprayed directly on the plants or around the perimeter of the garden bed. Q) My lilacs look healthy, but aren’t flowering, what can be done? A) There are a few reasons why this happens. First, lilacs can grow in both sun and shade, but require sun to flower well. If your lilac has been shaded out over time, consider moving the plant to a sunnier location or removing nearby branches to allow more light into the area. A second reason this occurs is because of pruning at the wrong time. Lilacs bloom on the previous season’s wood, so the only time to prune them without removing the next year’s flower buds is immediately after they bloom. Pruning at any other time of the year will remove flower buds. Q) Why are my crabapple tree leaves falling off in the middle of summer? is my tree dying? A) Most likely the culprit is fungus. Apple scab and cedar apple rust are two types of common fungi found on apple trees in our area that can cause premature leaf drop. Years with more rain make these issues more noticeable. Some years, the entire tree can be bare by mid-August, but do not worry: the tree will regrow leaves the following year. These are not life-threatening fungi, but it is best to remove the leaves from the property, which can greatly reduce the amount of inoculum in future years. If done annually, it can make a great difference after a while. With a Landis membership, you can have access to Fred’s horticultural expertise. To learn more about becoming a member and member benefits, please visit our website at landisarboretum.org. Send your questions to [email protected]. Include a photo or two. In the spring, the oak produces male and female flowers on the same branch. The long and pendant “catkins” are male. The Farmer’s Almanac advises planting corn when oak leaves are the size of a mouse’s ear. In the summer, the mature leaves are lobed and rounded, glossy, wider at the top – and occasionally home to “oak galls,” which, I am told, were once the source of ink. In the fall, the leaves turn a nondescript brown but, unlike most oak leaves, do not hang on through the winter. In the fall, one can see the distinguishing feature of the bur oak, a “mossy” or fringed bur-like cap that covers most of the acorn. But to my mind, the tree is most beautiful after the leaves have fallen in the fall and winter because, with its spreading, gnarled, and twisted branches, it has that classic spooky “Halloween” look! The stems and bark of the tree are grey, cork-like, and deeply furrowed. The oak’s distinctive bark makes it fire tolerant and thus able to survive the prairie fires caused by lightning strikes or set by Native Americans: fire is critical in maintaining the prairie’s ecological balance. Periodically, in “mast years,” my bur oaks produce heavy crops of acorns. These attract squirrels (of course) to the yard, but deer and jays and turkeys as well as, on one memorable occasion, a young black bear. The squirrels dutifully bury the acorns in mulch and in the tilled soil of the vegetable garden. Every year, I pot up the seedlings and give them away to fellow gardeners who have the room for these massive trees, the fastest growing of all the American oaks. The trees seem to thrive, even in the heavy clay soil I struggle with. It may be relatively uncommon to find the bur oak in New York State: my father had to resort to a field guide to identify the tree. However, visitors to Landis can view several mature specimens in the Arboretum’s Oak Collection. Bur oaks, a species of the more common white oak, seem to be more prevalent in the Midwest, where they tower, silent sentinels, over the prairie in those areas that have been preserved from development. The stately and soulful bur oaks that line the streets of Oak Park, Illinois, are descendants of the oak savanna that pre-dated the arrival of the Europeans. They are a beautiful and monumental complement to the nature-inspired architecture of Frank Lloyd Wright, whose buildings are a hallmark of this Chicago suburb. Many of these trees were propagated from several 200-300 year-old native bur oaks as part of the Historic Oak Propagation Project. Several huge bur oaks must have been planted years ago along one of the roads near my home. One of the trees has a metal piece embedded in its trunk. I wonder if the original owner of the nearby Walter Butlersbury home (1742) had a hand in planting them. (The home, incidentally, also has a lovely grove of ancient locusts.) The bur oaks in front of my house, on the prairie, and on the nearby road, seem to embody time. In nature, however, time moves infinitely more slowly than in man’s world. The poet Rabindranath Tagore wrote that “the one who plants trees, knowing that he will never sit in their shade, has at least started to understand the meaning of life,” a valuable lesson my father taught me, when 30 years ago, he planted the trees in whose shade he would never sit. For further reading: Peattie, Donald Culross. A Natural History of Trees of Eastern and Central North America. Boston, MA, Houghlin Mifflin Company, 1948. Tallamy, Douglas W. The Nature of Oaks: The Rich Ecology of Our Most Essential Native Trees. Portland, OR, Timber Press, 2021. I don’t know the date or the circumstances, but early on Ed was given two rare male ferns. He planted them on the hill of the Spur Trail and then they were forgotten. One day as we were walking up the trail, we looked over and saw a little stone wall with a few resident ferns. We decided that it would make an intriguing little grotto to add interest to the trail. The next time I came, it was with a load of ferns for the area near the pond’s outlet. Very nice! But I guess we didn’t mention it to anyone else. I believe it was planted in the fall, and we didn’t visit until later the following spring. To our great dismay and disappointment, some work had been done on the pond and, in addition to felling a huge tree, the construction debris had all been bulldozed over the bank onto our little grotto. So be it, we thought. For the next few years Ed concentrated on the main collection of native trees and shrubs. One day, about 2014, as we were walking up the Spur Trail, the sun shone behind the large ferns. We couldn’t help but be impressed. The Fern Glen was born at that moment. I started bringing ferns from my farm in Massachusetts, and Nick Zabawsky gave us many from his property. Ed started out with a mattock to plant the first ones: the clay soil is hard and rocky. Later my two sons, Rick and Rob, came with loads of ferns and planted them over the hillside. Ed found a rare walking fern and planted it on a rock and fed it lime, though it was not always happy. Fortunately, Nick Miller has now provided a replacement. We aimed to create a Fern Glen, with at least one of each fern native to the area, all marked using signs obtained from a grant. The Glen now has a base of thirty varieties, some thriving -- and some not. They don’t all like the same kind of soil, but we tried to compensate with an application of lime where needed. Since the area includes different habitats (the hillside is dry, and the base is wet), the ferns are arranged accordingly. Nick Miller, who inherited the curatorship of the Native Plant Collection, has done a lot of work creating rock steps on the hillside and cutting brush. Brother Nelson has done backhoe work to divert the pond overflow away from the hillside that was inundated after a heavy rainstorm. Nick is working on solving the problem of the muddy trail at the bottom using tree rounds for steps. It looks great and is very appropriate for the site. I hope to bring a few more ferns to have a good specimen of each of the thirty varieties. As with any other garden, the collection needs weeding, mowing, and clean-up. Anne Donnelly has joined me in the up-keep, especially in spring and fall. As I retire from everything except enthusiasm, I will continue to maintain this peaceful place. Please contact the Arboretum if you would like to join me in preserving this graceful glen. After all, ferns can be part of your plan too! |