Some thoughts about plants
Created | Updated Aug 1, 2023
Some thoughts about plants
Seven or eight years ago I told my aunt (who has a degree in biology) that there was a Multiflora Rose in my yard. She said that I had to get rid of it immediately. Everything I have planted there since then has died. I tried Dogwood. I tried lilies. Well, almost everything died. The Geranium Maculata is hanging on, though not thriving.
Moral of story: the experts don't know what will thrive in your yard. Even the Boston Conservation Commission listed Multiflora Rose on a list of acceptable plants for a Riverfront area. That list came out at the same time as my aunt's screed. Maybe they were just taking pity on us. You can spend thousands of dollars trying to eradicate it, and it will just come back anyway. It holds the soil in place, helps feed and shelter the birds, and makes gorgeous sweet-smelling blossoms. In my yard, it was thriving where nothing else has done well, though I will see if the milkweed makes a go of it.
Then there's Catalba (a.k.a. Catawba), a fast-growing tree with large heart-shaped leaves and attractive seedpods It's a legume, and will grow in poor soil), and has attractive, fragrant blossoms. One of them took root next to my porch. I had a devil of a time getting rid of it (it would have bent my porch with its growth). There was a huge Catalba tree near the Dedham Pool. When the playing field was redone, they cut the tree down. Within two years it had grown back. If a Catalba tree decides to grow somewhere, you need a good reason to deny its request. There's one growing near the Charles River, and I'm taking the lazy way out: go ahead, tree, grow where you want to, as it's obviously a good spot for you,
I mentioned milkweed. Landscapers almost always declare war on it. A medical building next to Moseley's in Dedham spent several years eradicating it from their parking lot. I kept rooting for the milkweed, but rich people with deep pockets can eventually have their way. This is not necessarily about aesthetics. Butterfly weed, a type of milkweed, has blossoms in attractive shades of yellow, orange, and red. Swamp Milkweed has some really lovely pink/magenta blossoms. Most Milkweed has really deep roots, so it doesn't need watering. The seedpods are a lot of fun when they crack open in the Fall, releasing tiny black seeds borne by silken parachutes. Disney's "Fantastia" had a great sequence of milkweed seeds dancing to Tchaikovsky's "Waltz of the flowers." Milkweed is the only host for Monarch butterfly larvae, but it also feeds larvae of the Queen Butterfly and the Milkweed Bug. Many bees and butterflies enjoy the nectar of the Milkweed flowers. I suspect that landscapers dislike milkweed because it is so hardy and longlived.
If usefulness were a big criterion, the Black Locust tree would have more friends in high places. It has hard, rot-resistant wood which prduces a lot of heat when it is burned (my father used to heat the house with locust wood). It holds the soil in places where erosion is a problem, and because it is a legume, it can grow in poor soil. Think about that last point for a minute. Some environmentalists are concerned that this species displaces other, native species. Maybe someone reading this can say what one should plant instead in poor soil? If you had a degraded area and no budget for planting, you could let locusts grow there, and they would seed themselves. Granted, Arborvitae is said to thrive in poor soil, but would it spread as fast as locusts? As a landscaping choice, locust trees have drawbacks, chief among them their thorns. Honey locusts, which *are* native to New England, don't get black marks for displacing native species (they *are* a native species), but landscapers who go with black locusts have a reason: the honey locusts have way more thorns, and the thorns are bigger. Several years ago I spoke with the person in charge of building some apartment buildings in West Roxbury. His landscaper planned to use black locusts. "Does your landscaper know about the thorns?" I asked. It turns out that he didn't. If you want to grow locust trees, be sure to wear shoes whenever you are walking under them. Their wood will keep you warm in the winter, and will make great fence posts, but you need to understand what you are up against. If it were me, I'd go with Arborvitae (which he ended up using), but Locust blossoms are beautiful and fragrant in June, and they make some cool seedpods.
When I get older, I may just let plants grow where they want to grow.
Seven or eight years ago I told my aunt (who has a degree in biology) that there was a Multiflora Rose in my yard. She said that I had to get rid of it immediately. Everything I have planted there since then has died. I tried Dogwood. I tried lilies. Well, almost everything died. The Geranium Maculata is hanging on, though not thriving.
Moral of story: the experts don't know what will thrive in your yard. Even the Boston Conservation Commission listed Multiflora Rose on a list of acceptable plants for a Riverfront area. That list came out at the same time as my aunt's screed. Maybe they were just taking pity on us. You can spend thousands of dollars trying to eradicate it, and it will just come back anyway. It holds the soil in place, helps feed and shelter the birds, and makes gorgeous sweet-smelling blossoms. In my yard, it was thriving where nothing else has done well, though I will see if the milkweed makes a go of it.
Then there's Catalba (a.k.a. Catawba), a fast-growing tree with large heart-shaped leaves and attractive seedpods It's a legume, and will grow in poor soil), and has attractive, fragrant blossoms. One of them took root next to my porch. I had a devil of a time getting rid of it (it would have bent my porch with its growth). There was a huge Catalba tree near the Dedham Pool. When the playing field was redone, they cut the tree down. Within two years it had grown back. If a Catalba tree decides to grow somewhere, you need a good reason to deny its request. There's one growing near the Charles River, and I'm taking the lazy way out: go ahead, tree, grow where you want to, as it's obviously a good spot for you,
I mentioned milkweed. Landscapers almost always declare war on it. A medical building next to Moseley's in Dedham spent several years eradicating it from their parking lot. I kept rooting for the milkweed, but rich people with deep pockets can eventually have their way. This is not necessarily about aesthetics. Butterfly weed, a type of milkweed, has blossoms in attractive shades of yellow, orange, and red. Swamp Milkweed has some really lovely pink/magenta blossoms. Most Milkweed has really deep roots, so it doesn't need watering. The seedpods are a lot of fun when they crack open in the Fall, releasing tiny black seeds borne by silken parachutes. Disney's "Fantastia" had a great sequence of milkweed seeds dancing to Tchaikovsky's "Waltz of the flowers." Milkweed is the only host for Monarch butterfly larvae, but it also feeds larvae of the Queen Butterfly and the Milkweed Bug. Many bees and butterflies enjoy the nectar of the Milkweed flowers. I suspect that landscapers dislike milkweed because it is so hardy and longlived.
If usefulness were a big criterion, the Black Locust tree would have more friends in high places. It has hard, rot-resistant wood which prduces a lot of heat when it is burned (my father used to heat the house with locust wood). It holds the soil in places where erosion is a problem, and because it is a legume, it can grow in poor soil. Think about that last point for a minute. Some environmentalists are concerned that this species displaces other, native species. Maybe someone reading this can say what one should plant instead in poor soil? If you had a degraded area and no budget for planting, you could let locusts grow there, and they would seed themselves. Granted, Arborvitae is said to thrive in poor soil, but would it spread as fast as locusts? As a landscaping choice, locust trees have drawbacks, chief among them their thorns. Honey locusts, which *are* native to New England, don't get black marks for displacing native species (they *are* a native species), but landscapers who go with black locusts have a reason: the honey locusts have way more thorns, and the thorns are bigger. Several years ago I spoke with the person in charge of building some apartment buildings in West Roxbury. His landscaper planned to use black locusts. "Does your landscaper know about the thorns?" I asked. It turns out that he didn't. If you want to grow locust trees, be sure to wear shoes whenever you are walking under them. Their wood will keep you warm in the winter, and will make great fence posts, but you need to understand what you are up against. If it were me, I'd go with Arborvitae (which he ended up using), but Locust blossoms are beautiful and fragrant in June, and they make some cool seedpods.
When I get older, I may just let plants grow where they want to grow.
