Author Archives: Kristin Green

Tetrapanax paperifer ‘Steroidal Giant’

June’s weather-related lesson in plant appreciation

June’s weather-related lesson in plant appreciation

Even if that wasn’t the rainiest June in the history of the universe (and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were), week-long rain showers gave me a whole new appreciation for some plants that I already couldn’t live without. Plants that lend my otherwise fluffy garden some definition and distinction. Plants that stand out. Plants


Bee happy—it’s swarm season

Honey bees haven’t had an easy go of it lately and this past winter was especially tough. One beekeeper I know lost four out of his six hives. He allowed me to tag along on an early-spring inspection and the sight of a cluster of dead bees within inches of the honey that should have

A gardener’s late-May to-do list

I am not a list writer, but I wish I was. Lately, every time I go out into the garden I feel pulled in so many different directions that I’m sure I look to the neighbors like a shooting gallery bear bobbing up and down and back and forth. It has occurred to me that

Korean Spice Viburnum, a cultivar introduced by the Hoogendorns of Middletown, opens in early May.

Spring is in the air

Out of all the months, May has to be the most optimistic. It’s as fecund with the season’s potential as it is lush and fragrant. Even the word “may” is a verb used to express the possibilities. I am powerless to resist its pull and I actually can’t imagine not wanting to be outside this

Friends don’t let friends plant impatiens

I have bad news and good news. The bad news is there’s a fungus among us. Impatiens downy mildew (Plasmopara obducens), the mysterious ailment that denuded and killed almost every busy Lizzie (Impatiens walleriana) back in July or August of last year, is here to stay. It’s in our soil now and unlike other downy

"Fairy Wings," one of the many aliases of this early spring bloom.

Down to earth: It’s time to make mulch of winter

I’m always a little nervous before cutting the garden back in spring. I worry about exposing delicate and tender new growth to this diabolical season that’s likely to shift within a day from mild and lovely to frigid and nasty. After all, “April is the cruelest month”, according to T.S. Eliot and most gardeners I

Down to Earth: Hope Springs In March

I am desperate to get back out in the garden. This time last year I lamented about not getting a proper winter break. This year, the opposite. Maybe gardeners are never content. But I’m pretty sure that nothing would make me happier right now than to spend one non-rainy, non-snowy, calm-wind weekend day outside. I