Author Archives: Ellen Snyder

First Frost

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Thursday, October 17, 2024

The weather forecast for Newmarket predicted an overnight temperature just above freezing. So I was surprised when I checked the thermometer reading at 5:15 this morning: 28.8F. That’s a hard frost. I did remember last night to cover the peppers, nasturtiums and parsley, and the one remaining Sungold tomato plant. This is also my cue to plant the garlic.

This first frost of the fall coincides with the full moon. As we set out on our walk with dogs Henna and Doc before dawn, the setting moon shown brightly just above the trees. This is a supermoon, appearing especially large given its proximity to Earth. Also a Hunter’s Moon as hunters set out in search of deer fattened up on acorns. And according to the Maine Farmer’s Almanac, the Dying Grass Moon. These names remind us of our connection to the earth and the changing seasons.

Henna and Doc did not howl at the moon, but barred owls were vocalizing in the early hours. We’ve been hearing them a lot recently, mostly a scream call, not the well-known “Who cooks for you?” banter. According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, the scream is an alarm call. Maybe they are alarmed at other predators; we’ve seen bobcat, fox, coyote, and heard great-horned owls in our neighborhood. They are all competitors for the same prey: rabbits, squirrels, voles, birds, and maybe an unwitting barred owl.

Alas, the sheets covering the peppers, tomato, and nasturtiums did not function as intended due to the hard frost. The plants are done in.

The nasturtiums droop after last night’s hard frost.

Pokeweed

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Sunday, September 28, 2024

By far, the most tropical-looking plant in our yard is pokeweed, Phytolacca americana. My observation holds true after researching its relatives in the genus Phytolacca, which all live in warmer climates than our pokeweed, including southern U.S., Hawaii, Central and South America, southeast Asia.

American pokeweed, Phytolacca americana

Pokeweed is known by many other names: American pokeweed, pokeberry, dragonberries, pigeonberry, inkberry, poke sallet, puccoon, pocan, and likely others. The names reflect various uses: as a dye, food for doves and other birds, medicinal. My favorite name is dragonberries.

Pokeberry is an herbaceous perennial, growing from a taproot to nearly ten feet tall and just as wide by early fall, when the fruits start to ripen. The lush foliage combined with the stunning fruits give this plant its tropical vibe. The somewhat inconspicuous small white flowers grow on pink stems in a cylindrical raceme that hangs down from leafy branches.

Pokeweed in flower

The raceme of flowers becomes a cluster of green berries that turn a stunning dark purple.

Fruiting pokeberry

Many people consider pokeberry a weed. The plant, including the berries (which also stain, hence the name inkberry), is poisonous to mammals, including humans, so that doesn’t help its reputation. But I find it an exceptionally beautiful addition to our yard. I can easily pull small seedlings when they pop up where I don’t want them, just like any weeding that I do in our gardens. Once established pokeberry it is harder to remove, so plan ahead and let pokeberry flourish in a suitable place. In our yard, cardinals, robins, and catbirds appreciate the cover and the berries.

The Bird Bath

My former Extension colleague Karen lives in southwest New Hampshire, where her husband/partner is a skilled stone mason. A few years ago I asked Karen and Andras if they could suggest a place to get a natural rock bird bath. It was my good fortune that they offered a rectangular piece of gneiss that Andras had chiseled into a beautiful bird bath. The banding of light and dark minerals in this metamorphic rock adds such beauty to our yard and offers a drinking fountain for wildlife.

Except for winter when the water would freeze and thaw and break the stone, the bird bath has a prominent position in the front yard among our evolving xeric and herb garden.

Andras’ bird bath.

The bath — about 18 inches by 12 inches — is perched on a large chunk of a tree, giving us a clear view from our front windows.  Yesterday, under an overcast sky and occasional light rain, birds were moving through the yard. A dozen chipping sparrows, a handful of bluebirds, a phoebe, goldfinches, a downy woodpecker, several fall warblers (yellow-rumped, palm, pine). Our flower gardens, yard trees, and shrubs draw them in as they forage for seeds, spiders, insects, and fruits. So too does the bird bath. The bluebirds take turns, splashing about in the small basin. The sparrows and goldfinches wait for their chance to take a few sips of water, while perched on the lip of the bird bath. Later a chipmunk, although wary, takes a drink.

Once a week I scrub the basin to remove algae that forms on the rock and any bits of bird droppings. I never thought a bird bath was that essential for our yard as animals often get enough moisture from the food they eat. But the birds and chipmunks love the bath, as much as we love watching them splash and sip and swallow.