Ohio Trees for Bees by Denise Ellsworth

by Denise Ellsworth

Many people are concerned about the health and survival of bees, including honey bees, native bumble bees and the hundreds of lesser-known native and wild bees that call Ohio home. Bees are threatened by an assortment of factors such as pests, pathogens, pesticides, climate change and a lack of nesting habitat and forage plants.

Bees and flowering plants have a critical relationship. Flowering plants provide nectar and pollen for a bee’s diet. Pollen is an essential source of protein for developing bee larvae, and nectar provides a carbohydrate source. Honey bees convert nectar into honey by adding an enzyme which breaks down the complex sugars into simple sugars. Bees, in turn, transport pollen from flower to flower as they forage, allowing for plant fertilization and the production of seeds and fruit.

While trees provide many well-known ecological benefits, the importance of trees as a source of food for bees is sometimes overlooked. Ohio trees can provide food for bees from early spring through late summer, with most tree species in Ohio blooming in spring and early summer. This factsheet describes some of the Ohio trees that provide food for bees. Trees included in this list have been described as important by multiple researchers and bee experts.

Other trees not listed here can also provide food for bees. For example, Ohio horticultural experts have noted significant bee foraging activity on trees such as Carolina silverbell (Halesia carolina), seven-son flower (Heptacodium miconioides), goldenrain tree (Koelreuteria paniculata) and Japanese pagoda tree (Sophora japonica) in landscape settings.

Consider selecting from this list of trees when choosing species to plant in urban, landscape and rural settings: Maple. Buckeye, Alder, Serviceberry, Catalpa, CommonHackberry, Red Bud, Yellow Wood, Cornelian Cherry, Hazelnut, Hawthorne

Xerces example:

http://www.xerces.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/MidwestPlantList_web.pdf

What’s the Difference between Pollinator and Pest?: Getting to Know your Neighbors

 by Diana Sette

In the City, many people can be put off by ‘bugs.’  Maybe it is because people think the bug may bite or sting you.  Or maybe they are just annoying and buzz.  Often people are simply flat out scared by something flying around them – even a beautiful butterfly.   While city culture may bristle at the thought of bugs, we must work to cultivate a vision that embraces bugs and can tell the difference between a pest and a pollinator, because our survival may depend on it.

How can that be so?  Well, three-fourths of the world’s flowering plants depend on pollinators to reproduce.  Flowering plants equates to most of the fruit, vegetable, and seed crops we eat – and other plants that provide fiber, medicine and fuel we use; these plants are pollinated by animals.* 

What kind of animals you may ask?  Pollinators are not just bugs like bees (though this is an essential one!) and beetles, they also include bats, butterflies and birds.  These pollinators are by no means ‘pests,’  when we support them we can actually support the reduction or effect of pests in our garden and life (ie. Bats eat mosquitoes, parasitic wasps make their cocoons on the backs of tomato hornworms!).  For the sake of this post, we’re going to focus on just a few pollinators you may find in your garden- especially if you have some plants that provide them food and habitat.**

IMG_20571st photo: Goldenrod Soldier Beetle or Pennsylvania Leatherwing (Chauliognathus pensylvanicus) with two bees I’m not able to identify.

 IMG_2058
2nd photo: Locust Borer (Megacyllene robiniae) on tansy (Tanacetum vulgare)
IMG_20613rd photo:Short-Horned Grasshopper (orthoptera caelifera)
IMG_2063
IMG_20644th & 5th photos: Eastern Carpenter Bees – Xylocopa virginica
image16th photo: Locust Borer (Megacyllene robiniae), two bees, and one Eastern yellow jacket Vespula maculifrons or- wasp (most likely yellow jacket- but hard to tell)

Thank you for getting to know your neighbor pollinators!  Together we can support our long-term livelihood by supporting theirs!

*More information on pollinators at www.nrcs.usda.gov/pollinators

** Tips on how you can help support pollinators http://www.nrcs.usda.gov/wps/portal/nrcs/main/national/plantsanimals/pollinate/gardeners/

First-To-Go

by Elsa Johnson

In spring you can

eat her :           green honey

and white             dripping

from fingers    toes    even

skin       is        How sweet.

But now Gleditsia’s shedding

Her honeyed skins

drift                her hoards

of gold                        wash

through our streets.

Here comes             dragon

slonch-wise

scales a-chink              fire

in his eyes                    ice

on his breath:

Mine          he says         all

mine.            In a few weeks

selfish as death               he

will burn these trees

                                    clean.

A Reader’s Post : garden learning – summer 2015

by Daniel Homans

Like so many, once the summer growing season is over I am happy with a single real and lasting takeaway from my annual gardening experience.

This year rather than a strictly botanical lesson, my garden learning was more social in nature. And how very simple. How could I have missed this one? All you need is a bumper crop of your best garden grown tomatoes, a friendly dog and you can become your neighborhood’s new garden rockstar.

The events leading to my learning this year began with a simple walk with my dog Olive. As we set out and passed my tomato garden I plucked a ripe Italian Red Pear and dropped it in my pocket. With no particular plan for my tomato as I reached the outside bounds of my customary walk I encountered one of my “hows-it-going” vaguely familiar neighbors. To my own surprise I pulled my Red Pear from my pocket and extended it declaring “you look like you could use a quality tomato”.

The conversation that followed was pleasant and lighthearted centering on home gardens, juicy tomatoes and Olive. Having experienced this impromptu social success I found my self repeating this routine during my morning and late day dog walks, saluting neighbors familiar, and not so familiar. Over two full months no one refused a tomato and my late summer walks became remarkably upbeat and much longer than in June.

Looking back now with Halloween in sight, I can say with certainty, I have more neighborhood friends than I did this time last year. So take notice, the lesson is simple: tomatoes can be a powerful social wampum.

Italian Red Pear

Song to Fall

by Elsa Johnson

Witness   the leaving –

the green

leaves the green leaf    

Attend

the edges

where filigree begins

Witness    the spread

of potlatch color on

leaves’ palms     

veins     blazing

the green

away.        

Calibrate    

the green receding.

Eclipse the crime : 

summer’s     

too green 

too chemical

bond.

Ben Falk to Speak at First Unitarian Church on October 23

Photo by Jeb Wallace-BrodeurBen Falk, founder of Whole Systems Design, holds bundles bundles of short grain brown rice grown in terraced rice paddies at his research farm in Moretown.
Photo by Jeb Wallace-BrodeurBen Falk, founder of Whole Systems Design, holds bundles bundles of short grain brown rice grown in terraced rice paddies at his research farm in Moretown.

Permaculture “Rock Star” to Speak at First Unitarian Church of Cleveland (21600 Shaker Blvd.), Friday Oct. 23 at 7 PM.  Ben Falk, author of The Resilient Farm and Homestead, will discuss permaculture practices in a cold climate.  He’ll be drawing on experiences from his Vermont farm and relating them to Northeast Ohio farms and gardens–six of which he will have just toured.  Ben is one of this country’s most original permaculture teachers and thinkers. (He has created a thriving rice paddy in Vermont! )

Permaculture Recipe: Lovage Pasta

by Tom Gibson

One of the risks of growing unusual perennial edibles is that you are never sure how much you will like them.  Sometimes it takes a while.  Which brings up lovage–an easy-to-grow perennial celery that thrives in partial shade. 

lovage

For the past couple years I’ve been adding lovage leaves occasionally to my scrambled eggs–pleasant enough, but nothing to really send me rushing into the garden for more. But tonight my wife made pasta with a zucchini-lovage sauce and hit the bullseye.  The lovage tang was really came through.

IMG_2344

Here’s the recipe:

Courgette (zucchini) and lovage pasta

A quick, easy dish. Serves four.

4 courgettes, about 400g

400g dried penne or fusilli

3 tbsp olive oil

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Zest of 1/2 lemon

1 small handful lovage leaves, finely shredded

80 g parmesan, grated (plus extra)

160g ricotta, broken into chunks

Trim the tops and bottoms off the courgettes, then shred into ribbons with a sharp vegetable peeler

Cook the pasta according to the packet instructions.  Meanwhile, heat the oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat, add the courgettes, season and saute until slightly golden, about five minutes.  Add the garlic and lemon zest, fry for a minute.  Stir in the lovage.  Taste and season again.

Drain the pasta (reserve some cooking water) and toss with the courgettes, a couple of tablespoons of cooking water, parmesan, and ricotta.  Serve in warmed bowls with more parmesan sprinkled on top.

Never Plant This! — Akebia Quinata

First in a series of plants we do NOT recommend

by Catherine Feldman

One day, early in my gardening years, I fell in love with a lovely five-leaved vine (akebia quinata) that was growing beautifully up a post in a Botanical Garden. It even had some other charming virtues, being edible for humans, distasteful to deer, shade tolerant. and drought resistant.

Akebia quinata

Above all, it was gorgeous; you can see why I had to have it.  Oh my,  though, what a misguided romance! I am stuck now and forever with this plant that pops up everywhere, especially where a current loved one is planted and struggling to maintain a relationship with me. No luxurious sloth allowed in this relationship, only remorseless vigilience, else I would have an Akebia garden. If it calls out to you, block it!

Plants We Like : Actea

by Elsa Johnson

Actea/Cimicifuga is a group of plants of long standing taxonomic uncertainty recently clarified but still confusing because they all look much alike. For the home gardener what differentiates one from another is when they bloom and what they smell like.

Actea racemosa, a plant native to eastern North America (common name Black Cohosh) grows in lightly shaded high-canopy, moist-but-well-drained open woodlands (or did when I was a child and found it growing in natural conditions on walks in the woods).  It enjoys much the same conditions as our native pawpaw tree (both pollinated by blowflies and beetles) and native calycanthus (pollinated by beetles). Actea racemosa flowers have a distinctive, fetid, and carrying smell… qualifying their appreciation to at-a-distance.  It blooms early summer to mid-summer, the buds opening one at a time, giving it a long bloom time. Where woodland restoration of native habitat is the goal, no other actea should be considered appropriate where this has formerly grown.

Our co- editor Tom Gibson has Actea racemose growing in his native plant garden and says that when it is blooming he finds bees pollinating it, and that he does not notice an unpleasant smell… I did however make a point of sniffing it last summer and was awed by how awful it was.  This may be a situation where some people are ‘smellers’ and others not.  Our native tree Ptelea is another such; to some it smells foul, to others fair.

(See Actea racemosa below)

native actea ramosa

Actea simplex (synonymous with Actea ramosa or Cimicifuga ramosa – you can see how things got confusing) hails from northern Eurasia and Japan. It is also has strong smelling blooms, but this time of honey, making it a happier companion in the residential garden. It is also valuable for its virtue of blooming late summer into late fall, when it provides nectar and pollen for late foraging European honeybees (out and about anytime the temperature is 55 degrees or warmer) as well as for many of our native bees foraging at lower temperatures. Last year my Actea simplex atropurpurea began blooming the end of October and was just getting into full bloom when the first early snows came, taking it out. The day before it was hosting a bumble bee. This year the first buds popped open this last week. I’m hoping I’ll get to enjoy them.

(See Actea simplex below)

actea simplex

In Catherine’s garden an established bed of Actea simplex atropururea ‘Brunette’ started blooming in September and is now mostly finished, but a more recently planted patch is blooming now, waving their tall fairy candles above a lower growing bed of Aspertina altissima ‘Chocolate’ (formerly Eupatorium rugosum – another group of plants that recently underwent taxonomic correction) (more on this plant another time). This combination of Actea and Aspertina is quite beautiful, and will be more so in a couple more years.

Acteas, both native and non-native, are unattractive to most animal pests – deer, rabbits, groundhogs leave them alone – and most insect pests and diseases also.  Once established they are durable and tolerant plants. Adequate moisture is essential, especially in the first three to four years. My happiest Actea simplex grows at the outer fringes of a rain garden, sending up bottle-brush flowers that tread air at well above six feet. 

I will miss the name cimicifuga, though    the way it rolled around in the mouth while saying it. 

A Visit To Holden Arboretum’s New Canopy Walk and Emergent Tower

by Elsa Johnson

Of course it’s neat! 

When I was a kid we had a big sugar maple at the end of our driveway with one low branch so that a child could jump up, grab it, and swing herself up; after that there were regularly spaced branches. One could climb up as high as one dared to go… which in my case was not very high. My brother climbed it to the top, and so did the neighbor boy (and fell and bounced off every branch on the way down, but miraculously did not break a single bone – though he never tried climbing that tree again, either).

The Arboretum Canopy Walk puts you up there at the top of that big sugar maple, so to speak, and it isn’t scary one bit. The ascent is a solid gradual ramp up to a tree-canopy-level walkway laid out in a triangle, with the interconnecting walkways suspended on cables between the non-moving transition-towers (think the Brooklyn Bridge on a much, much, much smaller scale).

It’s lovely and fun (of course the walkways bounce!), although not terribly educational at the moment (there was a notice saying that there will be educational signage coming soon)…but the walkway is beautifully designed, and the design is impeccably executed. One could go and appreciate it for no more reason than that. 

On to the Emergent Tower (yes, yes, a wacky name – what else is the purpose of a tower if not to emerge?) – and yes, yes, really worth the trip; I enjoyed every step of it. 

Like the canopy walk, the tower is an exquisite piece of well-thought-out functional design and construction detailing. Just one example is that the risers on the steps are slightly low, allowing even a couple ladies with one cranky knee apiece to walk up (and down) it without pain and hardly any sense of exertion. How cool is that! And every step of the trip is a visual pleasure, noticing how the floor grid allows one to look through, either down or up, turning the entire tower into an ever-changing kaleidoscope of beautiful metal and wood joinery.

The tower is 202 feet high, which is above the tree canopy at the top (having emerged). One can see in all directions….north to the lake, east toward Little Mountain, south and west… in every direction a green blanket of rolling hills and trees. Also a tension structure, there is wind movement. It is delicious. Go see.  0922151601