sidewalk

Pitiful




I took the time to clear our three tree pits last week, having watched them fill with weeds, desirable and otherwise. There were flowers growing, some of which appeared quite cultivated. As I weeded, a young girl, maybe 7 or so, stopped to ask what one of the weeds in an uncleared pit was called. I said that I wasn't sure, maybe pennycress (Thlaspi arvense). She said, no -its' Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)! Ahh, I said, I think you are right and I better get you on my payroll. Her mother then stepped in to say how she had taken a class with the Wild Man, although she was a little concerned. We began talking about the weeds that I was pulling, and she implored me not to pull the plants that she had planted! OH, that's where those cultivated-type weeds had come from. She informed me that she had "seed-bombed," had I heard of that? Of course I had, as much as I've heard of the Wild Man. And so the reason there were peculiar flowering weeds in my tree pits was discovered. And the mother and daughter moved on and I continued to clear.

The next morning, Tuesday morning, my wife went out to plant some seeds in a tray that will eventually be transplanted to the pits. Why is Tuesday morning relevant?

It so happens that every other Tuesday, a small group of  NYers meet on a road in Prospect Park to pick up the trash. Read that story here, or here from the woman who started it all. Our last outing, on a warm, humid pre-summer morning, took us into the heart of the wood where the sex life of men is laid bare on the humus. I found it ironic, on that very morning, that I should find a freshly filled rubber and wipes in one of our three tree pits -the one I had just cleared of weeds the afternoon before. 



In an attempt to keep the tree pits cleared, I put stakes and twine around the edges (not seen here). Dog walkers leave the biggest nasty in the tree pits, followed by the local feral cats, and then the convenience trash.

So I put up a couple of pictographic signs, laser etched into laminated cedar shakes.

The knot in the shake is well placed, eh?

And today, a water truck came to pressure wash each pit. How nice.


Expedition Pit



In the cultivated garden, now, the 'New Dawn' rose is beginning to bloom. Next to it, the young flowering tip of Allium sphaerocephalon. Yet, my excitement has not been focused on the garden lately, so much as it has been on the tree pits, planted in spring, 2010, with Zelkova serrata, or the Japanese Zelkova tree. Oh, yes, we had big intentions: to plant those extra large pits with flowers of one kind or another, build tree pit guards, protect and maintain them. But that hasn't panned out, for a variety of reasons, and now I find myself welcoming almost every aspect of tree pit neglect. In each pit an expedition into the world of plants.

 One of the three new tree pits, one year after creation, filling in nicely with an assortment of plants.

Of course, we have the usual suspects, like mugwort, Artemisia vulgaris.

And smartweed, Polygonum caespitosum.

The lamb's quarters, Chenopodium album.


And common mallow, Malva neglecta.

But then there is this toothier, lamb's quarter look-a-like that I suspect is an amaranthus spp.


This basal growth seems to have form, some cultivated history perhaps?

And this? Clearly the same as the above, but older. Silvery green, lanceolate foliage, upright habit, flower buds forming. It looks special -to me, and worth protecting to see what shall come of it.

But should I be surprised at all that one of my most prolifically self-seeding asters has shown up in droves just across three feet of sidewalk? Hardly. But exciting, nonetheless, because I am witness to a logic in its regeneration -it sprouts primarily at the interface between the concrete and the soil. Had the seeds washed or blown across the sidewalk, or both?

Nor should I be surprised that another prolifically spreading garden plant (an accepted weed), Persian Speedwell, Veronica persica, should have made it across the hot, concrete sidewalk plains of New York City.

So why is that I was utterly shocked to see my garden phlox growing in the tree pit? And why does it feel that if I was to pull all the unaccepted weeds, yet leave the accepted, only then would they get stepped on? It seems that if I leave all the weeds, all will survive and flourish. Does the plant community defend itself simply by appearances? Maybe people only see jumble and avoid it, naturally, as city folks are wont to do?

Yet, in avoiding, they miss out on little gems like this.

A snapdragon?

And this.

Possibly Viola arvensis, European Field Pansy.

What I enjoy in the pits is the sense of surprise, which isn't inherent to my cultivated garden, except where I forget what I planted or when something grows off plan. I think it is important to see what takes naturally to bare soil, to help understand soil, and the movement of offspring, and fecundity, to find flowers where there appears to be none, and to appreciate what follows us from there to here. 

But please, don't let it get out of hand, as is this curbside stand of curly dock, Rumex crispus, across the street. Eventually, one or two of those species will overtake the rest, allowing only a simple succession of one or two cool and warm weather weeds to flourish. 

Incidentally, said curly dock seems to house many aphids amongst its untouched branches. Here's the question, then -does it attract aphids, pulling them away from your precious, succulent plants? Or, does it create a perfect habitat for a super-society of thousands upon thousands of aphids that will then migrate to your precious, succulent plants after they use up the curly dock? Feast on that.


The Corner


One of the several late nights of the last week, I walked down our sidewalk to notice our neighbor standing outside after 2 am. I thought it was odd. As it turns out, the next morning I notice him out once again, with broom, and his chain-link mashed down. Betsy filled me in.

Maybe it's obvious, but for the telling, a car had plowed into the corner opposite my side yard garden. My neighbor plants vegetables and herbs there, and she had just finished bird-netting the whole thing to keep the neighborhood gang of cats out. But it wasn't enough to keep out a car. This scenario is one of our most talked about corner topics. The cars zoom down the one way street and never even notice the stop sign, just plow through the intersection with the other street, which has no stop sign. I see dozens of cars do the same thing. I imagine them swerving in my direction, hitting the light pole which will slam down on me like a falling tree. The other day I was crossing, a large black car was zooming down, and I stopped and put my hand out, in that traffic cop manner, yelling stop sign, and the guy begrudgingly stops mid-intersection, then rolls down his window and spits out "You got a suicide wish." It's time for the DOT and their crawling bureaucracy to get involved. Or maybe I'll paint STOP on the road one night.

Meanwhile in the side yard, a shady nook moment.

The repotted sage has decided to bloom for the first time, and I've decided to let it.


The Sidewalks Of New York



Not long ago my neighbor had a mason "improve" his sidewalk's condition by leveling out the bumps on the long stretch beside his house. The bumps were clearly made by the plane trees. Well, not more than a few weeks after he had this mason fix it up, the city came in (well, a contractor paid by the city) and tore up the old sidewalk and replaced it completely at no cost to him! I wouldn't of believed it if he hadn't told me. They actually did a nice job too, curving the sidewalk where the tree's roots were swollen from contact with the previous sidewalk.

Then I came across this post at KARMABrooklyn Blog. Apparently, if you are a homeowner who resides in a 1, 2, or 3 family home, and your street tree is lifting your sidewalk, the Parks Dept. will come in and repair that sidewalk. The sidewalk has always been a contentious space between owners and the city. It's the city's sidewalk to plant trees, but it's the owner's sidewalk when it comes to fixes or replacement. I think this program can go a long way toward amelioration and maybe cut down on those pesky 'I tripped on a city sidewalk' lawsuits that we always hear about, but never seem to ever know anyone directly involved.

Being that the Parks Dept. is involved, we can hope (there's always hope) that they will make tree pits more friendly to the the trees. Good luck trees.





Love The Hardscape, But...

I'm thrilled the DOT has redone the traffic circle at the southwest corner of Prospect Park. It was roadway wild west before they imposed some structure to our driving and walking.

Car lanes have been restricted to one or two in each direction, bike lanes and traffic lights have been added, traffic light timing is better coordinated for all users, the horses now travel around the circle instead of bisecting it, and high-curbed barriers restrict the crazy maneuvers of so many drivers. One thing though...

Who chose these plants?! These low ball-shape junipers/cedars (?) did not last the winter.

And when will they be replaced?

Looks to me like young cedar.

Even in the park this new traffic infrastructure houses these mostly dead shrubs. High heat, cold winds, dry, salt spray -what should be planted there?


May As Well Be June


About 8:30 am today, walking to Cortelyou to see what's at the farmers' market. I chose a different route for the trip south -I stayed my side of CIA. From full concrete yards to an interzone full of gardening misdirections, I inhaled the scent of hose water on hot mornings. I walked lazily, camera in hand because there's always something that catches my eye. I hesitated, though, this morning to photograph -same laziness? The breeze was coming in off the ocean, the way it can on summer mornings. The interzone, part concrete -part yard and garden gave way to full on yards. My camera was unleashed.

This shade "garden" adjoins a long abandoned house and yard.

Misstep?

I turned left, looking for a pizza place that's supposed to be good. I didn't find it. I head for the farmer's market. Along the way I notice Vox Pop, the coffee shop, has closed due to owed back taxes -they're taking donations. Today's market had more flowering plants than vegetables. No ramps, but youngions and garlic greens. I bought three bunches for $7. I bought some boneless turkey thigh at Di Paola and a scone from the baker -I was hungry. Then I made my way north, back to my house, via Ditmas Park.

Its awfully lush out there, for May two. May as well be June.

But the pleasantness of Ditmas Park's sidewalk and strips gave way to all kinds of detritus. Left out on an over-warm spring night -unfinished meals in food containers, human feces and wipe, and this bag which startled me because I thought there was an animal inside.

But then there was this. Creepy, or just a kids night out on the strip, cut short by bedtime?


I moved on.

Porch-top container garden.

Too much, overwhelming.

While I generally don't like shrubs for strip plantings, I do like rugosas and their heady scent.

Shrub sculpting -where yew meet azalea.

What I wouldn't give for a small, lush lawn, forget this huge lawn, for my bare feet on a warm day like today. After, bbq.

My own front yard garden is June lush, despite it being May.


The Other Day


This has been a funny spring. Crocus late, Cherries early. I pictured this on Tuesday last week after I met my cousin, once removed (my father's cousin). He found me online, via the NY Times article about lead in the garden. Before that, I did not exist to him, and afterward he had a cousin with the same last name as he. He is a commercial painter in San Francisco and just received his lead abatement license which was the reason he was on the internet looking up lead. What he found was an article that featured someone with his last, and uncommon, name. He googled me, found my art site, then emailed me.

On Tuesday he, his wife and daughter met me near Pratt at a place called Tillies. His daughter happens to be attending Pratt for writing. We spoke for about an hour, going over the basics which is a strange, yet pleasant experience. What do you do? Do you know so and so? It turns out he went to my undergraduate school in the late sixties -a funny connection. Of course, the whole time I thought it would make even more sense for my cousin to be talking with my father, who is his first cousin and probably remembers all the family we have in common.

I had to run because I was guest critiquing a graduate painting class that day at Pratt. We walked together toward the campus, and I look down at the blue stone sidewalk and this object is staring up at me. Instinctively I grab it, throw it in my bag. We promised to keep in touch. The NY Times article is the gift that keeps on giving. Last summer after my artist talk at the Wilton library, I mentioned the blog to a group that had gathered around. Instantly I was recognized as the guy from the Times article. Times got reach.

The kitschy brass lamp, oxidizing toward blue-green, in its temporary home amongst the aconitum.


Come Again




I took this nice weather morning to plant these bulbs that I received, wow, over a month ago. All from Scheepers. In the back, Crocus tommasinanius and Crocus T. 'Lilac Beauty'. Twenty five for $4.75, I think that's a great price for the small pleasures of late winter. Scheepers' website mentions that squirrels don't eat these. Of course, I've had more trouble with my own shovel destroying the crocus, but I think I found evidence of the anti-squirrel qualities of these. I planted them in soil around the stepping stones in the side yard. The next day I went out and saw that the soil was spread all over the stones and what did I see, but one crocus bulb sitting on top, un-gnawed. I think sir squirrel moved on to other more tempting treats.

The front two are species lilies, 'Citronella' and 'Davidii', 5 bulbs each for $9.75 and honestly, I wish I could have given two of each away -no room! The white bulbs on the left are onion, Allium atropurpureum. I really don't like those giant globe allium, so I go for the varieties that have more open habits or the humble umbel forms.


I was planting the bulbs, moving iris and other perennials for the side yard flower garden, come vegetable garden, come again flower garden. Since that corner is kind of messy with the cat feeding and bottle depositing and otherwise garbage-y quality, not to mention the telephone poles that come and go, I put some max sunflowers in the corner to go with the mess. Today, when I am doing this other work, a neighbor says hello and then says 'finally cutting back those flowers, eh.' To which I respond, 'do you not like them?' And so on from there...

I will never cut down a flower in bloom. Just won't, unless, of course, it's for the vase. I certainly wasn't doing what my friendly neighbor was suggesting, and certainly not in November when every day with blooms is an anchorage to warm and temperate times. But I get it, neighbors want plants to stay within their frames- behind the fence, WHAP!! cracks the whip. So I bend, cranking back the poor stems of Helianthus maximilianii with a twine contraption, forcing them into the shade of the Yew tree they so desperately reach from to catch the last bits of low sun, their penchant tropism. Oh ye heliotrope, bend not to your need and will, but to the wants of your animal neighbors! Such as it is, such as it is.

Proud To Be Your Neighbor



First of all, I found this to be both hilarious and effective -I mean if I had a dog I certainly would respond to Obama's authoritative affirmation.

The other day I was in the side yard watering vegetables. A tall, young man walking a tiny dog was crossing at the opposite corner. Out of nowhere I hear "You gonna pick that up?" yelled down the sidewalk. I look and see my diminutive neighbor, who I just met the other night over garden conversation, walking his big dog. Caught-in-the-act! Finally, someone is caught. And I was pleased that it was another dog owner that spotted him. The tall guy shrugs, no baggy man. My neighbor gives him a bag and a little bit of shit to go along with it. I was so proud.

How Do I Like It?



I like new things, and clean places. I like repair and well-maintained. Although sometimes, it seems to me that the best place to be is in that broad space between total mess and well-kept.
One of our new street trees planted last fall. Its meager skirt of petals. The mud and half-missing curb, a puddle and a few weeds. Sometimes, that's just how I like it.

What To Do With Extra Plants or Rumble in the Tree Pits


I seem to always pick plants for the garden that spread all over. Self seeders, stoloniferous plants, runners running every which way. Oenothera, Chrysanthemum Koreanum, Eupatorium, perennial sunflower, seaside solidago, alchillea -garden and field varieties, asters.

What to do with these spreading plants. I started putting them in the new tree pits across the street. There is a dirt strip there full of grasses and amaranth and other unidentified weeds. So I put my spreaders in the new tree pits and we'll see what wins out.  

Hopefully not the dog walkers. While planting, I found three plastic bags filled with dog shit and tied up -left in the tree pit. Why go through all the trouble of bagging your dog's business and then throw it on the sidewalk? 

Anyhow, I don't water these guys in the garden, so my hope is they'll take root over there and spread.

The MAN Gardens

Strolling through the Flatbush Gardener I picked up this little piece from NYC.gov. I have to hand it to Xris over there, he's on top of things. So I am glad he brought this to my attention. I do not want to speak on the specifics of the proposal because I only quickly read his post and glanced at the slide show presented by the city. But some thoughts...

First I want to say, as a gardener and appreciator of things garden and wild, I would like to see more green in all neighborhoods. Second I want to say that I think the city should encourage the greening of the city exactly for the reasons they state: cooler temps, storm water runoff, cleaner air, etc.

I hope this won't be simply stating the obvious, but we should consider why neighborhoods have become concrete. As a man and woman passed my bulb planting activity four years ago, I heard the man say "Too much effort". And isn't this to the point. I have always believed the woman had said to him, "oh, look- he's planting a garden." Yet too much effort are the words ringing in my ears.

So why has NYC become a concrete paradise? Well simply put, people feel it's too much effort to plant. Concrete sheds water, barely needs to be weeded and if so, spray it with herbicide! It easily shoveled, swept, or hosed. Most of all, money spent and its O-V-E-R! Its the same for vinyl siding, isn't it. We can lament its aesthetic shortfalls, but homeowners don't want to paint their homes, don't want to repair rotted wood siding because its costly and time consuming. Absentee landlord's love concrete and tenants have little choice. People with physical problems may want concrete. These are some reasons concrete has won over in areas where cars don't fit or can't get to. Let's face it, its less effort and maintenance.

Of course there must be the driveway for the car as well. I guess that's reasonable if you have a car in the city. And there are so many cars. There is not a night when all the spots in my neighborhood are not taken. Brooklyn is a car town.

This leads me to a sore point about grass strips between sidewalk and street. In my neighborhood, grass strips are many things: weed strips, dirt strips, dog shit strips, garbage strips, broken bottle strips, and lets not forget the most important thing- open car door strips! Where people are parked and must exit cars every day, the grass cannot hold up to this grinding by the feet. In neighborhoods where grass strips seem to work, there MUST be conscientious passengers and caretakers of them. As long as we worship the auto, do away with the grass strip. Its absurd, really. Like those two concrete strips running up a grass driveway-you remember the kind. This photo resembles the idea.

We, as gardeners, can help anyone convert their concrete pad into a garden space. We can show them how to do it with little watering, weeding, and the like. We can show them the beauty of plants the landscape contractor would never touch. We can give them perennial divisions, cutting, and seeds. I am interested in what I call our Collective Green. You heard it here first. We can band together to green up the neighborhood's yards. Volunteers wanted.

I like to win people over as opposed to forcing them. I hope that my front yard sells itself, gives people ideas. If not, so be it. Must be the Libertarian in me. But is a mandate being proposed for NYC? It appears that the proposal is only for new development. But how much new row house or single family style construction is there in the city? The kind that would create "front yard" space? In Queens and Staten Island, mostly, I'd guess.

Welcome Ramblings

I was out today dusting the sidewalk. It was that kind of a day, when the high clouds semi-obscure the sun’s rays. It’s a gardening day and in New York City, that means sweeping the sidewalk. I do have a garden though, small but productive, in my Brooklyn neighborhood. It’s in the front yard, if you will. It’s not much of a yard, roughly 30 inches by 30 feet, running 1/2 the length of my apartment building. Between the soil and the sidewalk stands an iron fence, about 30 inches tall.

I water my garden about three times a year, outside of mandatory soakings after transplants. I do this with a white 5-gallon pail, filled at the spigot around the house corner, near where my landlord parks his pole setting truck. He's a telephone pole setter, not many like him.

At this time of the year I take stock of the growing season. You can, as many neighbors scratching their heads in wonder do, find me standing at the fence staring into my little plot. What I am doing here is re-organizing the plants, rethinking their placement. I do like to move the plants around. A fascination from the very first moment I had actually moved a plant. I was young; I dug up a sedum (yellow-green flowers, tiny leaves) growing in random placement around our foundation and moved it. I don't remember why. I also did this with clumps of grass in our backyard (not known for its lawn). I reclaimed sandy areas for play while agglomerating grassy ones. A gardener was born. I learned the magic of transplant, that I could also not kill something.

I killed a lot along the way. I also learned not to care. You can't let death get in the way of your learning. I do not know how many plants I have lost. But I remember why, when specific plants are in question, and do not make those errors twice. In the service of learning, do things. This year I cut back my asters one time too many. Oh, they're okay -just budding out later than normal. But I wanted to push it, because these asters so often get out of control. Now I know and nothing was lost.

Every gardener has a specific set of circumstances. It is these that ultimately tie one to the land, specific knowledge meeting general knowledge. Me, well I have a garden where the soil may never actually freeze due to its proximity to the concrete sidewalk and foundation and its southern exposure. Last winter it was so warm, the clematis I recently transplanted from another garden leafed out in January! And we so often plant given our circumstances. I've been away for summers over the last several years, so I planted for spring and fall. This summer the garden was rather barren because I was here to see it for the first time in years. Given my microclimate, now I'm thinking about upzoning my planting. I've always been a fan of pineapple sage (salvia elegans) and other mildly hardy sages. They grow as annuals here, but you know I think I might be able to get it to survive over winter.

The fact that I've been away every summer caused me to consider watering. I knew that I wanted a careless garden, a group of plants that essentially took care of themselves. So I chose based on my interests in color, form and so on, but also on whether or not they could support themselves with no water, all year. So here is a list of plants in my front yard:

Russian Sage -Perovskia atriplicifolia
Maximilian's Sunflower -Helianthus maximilianii
Yarrow -Achillea millefolium
Stonecrop -Sedum spp.
Primrose -Oenothera spp.
Hardy Ageratum -Eupatorium coelestinum
Aster spp.
Chrysanthemum "Sheffield Pink" -Dendranthema x rubellum
Spiraea
Lavender -Lavandula angustifolia
Garden Phlox -Phlox paniculata
Climbing Rose "New Dawn"
Geranium spp.
Tickseed -Coreopsis lanceolata
Cosmos sulphureus
Easy, everblooming shrub rose
Sidalcea spp.
Onion -Allium sphaerocephalon

They have all done exceptionally well, and I only water if it doesn't rain for weeks on end. This year, not at all. I do have a propensity for spreading plants. But this is a topic for another day.