Waging War with Invasives

I have been pulling weeds this week, because with all the rain and warmer weather, they are trying to take over the world. It is a battle. I once read that a weed is any plant in the wrong place. That's a liberal definition, but it goes to the heart of the matter. I may pull out a plant that doesn't belong in my garden, but probably there is some place on earth that would welcome the specimen. It is all about context. 

For example: Most folks consider dandelion a weed. But in a rural setting, perhaps beneath old apple trees, wouldn't a field of dandelions be gorgeous? Wild violets and oxalis are welcome in my natural garden, but they might be out of place in someone's formal rose bed.

Could this oxalis be a weed?Moss is considered a weed in many places. Moss? I love moss, and I treasure the moss paths in my woodland garden:

Morning light shines across the moss path in the woodland garden.

There are some weeds that don't belong near my garden, but that is my opinion and not theirs. These are weeds that burn or sting or cause itching and blisters. Or invasive weeds that are so out of control they strangle everything in their paths.

Unfortunately, for years we have been fighting battles against several invasive plants. The lady who built my house almost sixty years ago loved English ivy and put a few sprigs out here and there, according to her grandson. That ivy has taken over a good section of the woods, where it climbs high into the trees and smothers everything on the ground. I have no hope of winning the battle in the woods, though sometimes Lou goes out with a machete and cuts it from around the base of trees. But I have drawn a line where my woodland garden begins.

Not one inch farther. You stop here.

I chop it and spray it, but if I turn my back it will grab me by the ankles and pull me under. English ivy is mean stuff. I have heard that vinca is invasive. Vinca major once grew as a ground cover in a section of the woods, beneath dogwood and pine trees and a huge magnolia, and I always thought its starry blue flowers in the spring were delightful. No more. I woke up one spring morning a few years ago and realized the ivy had conquered the vinca. So I know who the real bully is.

On the other side of my house, on a steep slope overlooking a valley, I have another invasive plant growing, perhaps the South's most notorious weed. That is kudzu. Kudzu was imported from Japan and was widely planted in the southeastern USA in the 1930s and 1940s to fight soil erosion. It did a good job, and it now turns forests, old buildings, and telephone poles into giant fanciful topiaries. Every year Lou cuts back the kudzu, and we keep a careful eye on it. 

We won't win, unless we spray the whole place with agent orange or else bulldoze it and cover it over with concrete. (Is that winning?) The ivy and the kudzu wait for our demise. If my house were abandoned, the ivy would come from one direction and the kudzu from the other, and the two would meet on the roof to wage war for control.

A third invasive plant grows behind the house, on the other side of a large gravel parking court. This is bamboo:Look closely and you can see stumps where Lou has cut back the bamboo. The ground cover beneath it is English ivy, which strangely does not climb the bamboo.Bamboo is a grass, and it is a pretty monster. Biltmore Estate in North Carolina has a bamboo grove along a picturesque stream. The bamboo has room to spread, and it is lovely in its setting. My bamboo wants to sprout in the vegetable garden and beneath cars in the parking area, and this is another chore for Lou and his machete. I can see the bamboo one day reaching into the broken windows of our dilapidated house, while the kudzu and ivy snarl overhead.

But not today. For now I have a sturdy house and a garden of delights. There is one plant that spreads each year that is not a weed at all. Though they are not yet in full bloom, I paused from battling weeds long enough to take photos. A thousand yellow daffodils, dancing in the light:

Ten days till spring!

You may also like Weed War and Weed War: part two.

Why it takes so long to get things done in my garden

What a difference a week makes! Last week my garden stood frozen and hushed under a layer of snow. Now the weather is warm and the garden juices are flowing in plants and gardener alike. The drab browns and grays of winter are still here but are about to give way to the exuberance of spring. Look at these photos of my lady garden, taken exactly seven days apart.

With the warmer air and sunshine, my goal yesterday was to spread fifty pounds of composted cow manure around the hellebores in my garden. I should have done this weeks ago, but the recent cold wet weather has prevented me. It took me six hours. The job could easily have been done in one hour, or less if I hurried. This is what happened:

I went around back to the carport to get the wheelbarrow. I put two twenty-five pounds of manure in the wheelbarrow and started pushing it, aiming for a patch of hellebores next to the patio on the opposite side of the house. I went about ten feet and noticed a rock planter by the drive. I was thrilled that the lavender I had planted here had survived our soggy winter, but it was covered up with weeds. I bent over and pulled a few of the weeds, then decided to go ahead and pull all of them. 

That's much better! I bet that lavender could use some of this cow manure.

So I opened one bag and scooped some of the rich, dark stuff into a trowel and worked it into the soil around the lavender. I made a mental note: Buy more lavender.

I then pushed the wheelbarrow around the corner of the house and spied the large planter across the front with lemon thyme growing in it. 

Well, if it's good for the lavender, it's good for the thyme.

So  spent the next few minutes working cow manure around the thyme plants. 

I had better water this in.

I got the hose and watered the front planter, then put water in a watering can and walked back to the first planter with the lavender and watered that, too.

I pushed the wheelbarrow a couple feet and noticed some weeds growing into a shrub. So I stopped and pulled them. There were quite a few. This took about thirty minutes. I carried the weeds to the brush pile behind the house and dumped them.

I was getting closer to the hellebores now, but stopped to put some manure around a potted dwarf Alberta spruce. I eyed some shrubs growing nearby and decided they could use some, too. After that, I pulled the hose to this area and watered everything I had manured.

Really, all of these plants in pots on the patio need fertilizing.

So I did that and watered them, as well.

Okay. At last the first group of hellebores was right in front of me!

But I'm hungry. I need a snack first!

I went into the house and ate a muffin and drank some milk. Lou was there and asked me to sign some papers. I did that and headed back outside.

I looked at the hellebores.

What a mess. All these dead leaves are terrible.

I got the pruners and snipped the ratty foliage off the hellebores. Then I got the rake and gently raked all the oak leaves and other debris that had fallen into the hellebore bed during the winter.

That's better. Hmm, I'd better go ahead and rake all this stuff off these bricks while I'm at it.

I began raking the leaves and noticed moss growing on the bricks under the leaves. I pulled at it, and it easily peeled off the bricks in sheets.

The moss path! This will be perfect to transplant to those bare areas of my moss path!

So I made multiple trips to the woodland garden, where I happily laid sheets of moss and stepped on it.

That's an easy transplant job. But look at that. My weeping blue cedar has some dead branches at the bottom. It needs to be limbed up. That plant sure has grown. It's beginning to look like a tree!

I went to the back of the house and got the loppers and then returned to the woodland garden, where I limbed up the cedar and the blue spruce next to it. I hauled the cut branches to the brush pile. Garden the cat, who does not belong to me, saw me and came running. She hopped onto the woodland garden bench, expecting me to visit with her. She was covered up with leaves and pieces of pine straw. 

"What have you been doing?" I asked. "Rolling in the hay?" 

I sat down and she climbed into my lap. I picked all the leaves and pine straw out of her fur. I turned her onto her back and looked at her belly, to make sure she wasn't pregnant. Garden was offended at this and hopped down. 

"See you later," I called to her as she trotted off in a huff.

Okay, I have got to fertilize those hellebores.

I returned to the hellebores. I had raked a large pile of leaves onto the patio, so I decided to get rid of these first. I emptied the manure bags out of the wheelbarrow and piled the leaves into it. I pushed the wheelbarrow to the brush pile and dumped the leaves. On the way back I stopped at the herb bed. Weeds were sprouting and multiplying as I stood watching them.

So I weeded the entire herb bed.

Wow. The sun is getting low! I have got to fertilize those hellebores!

I finally returned to the job I had set out to do. I scooped manure around each plant and watered them. I put the remaining bag of manure into the wheelbarrow and then headed for a group of hellebores next to the lady garden.

Don't look over there! Just do what you got to do. The sun is about to go down!

I diligently spread the manure around this group of hellebores, then made several trips with the watering can to water them. The sky was turning pink as I returned the wheelbarrow to the carport and put up my other garden tools.

And that is why it takes me so long to get anything done in my garden.