Nature’s Healing Power
In his essay titled “Why We Need Gardens,” neurologist and author, Oliver Sacks wrote: “I cannot say exactly how nature exerts its calming and organizing effects on our brains, but I have seen in my patients the restorative and healing powers of nature and gardens, even for those who are deeply disabled neurologically. In many cases, gardens and nature are more powerful than any medication.”
Sacks, who died of a rare cancer in August of 2015, explained how he was introduced to the wonder of gardens as a child. And, as a physician in New York City, he took his patients to visit gardens whenever he could, believing that, just like music, gardens were vital “therapy” for people living with chronic neurological diseases. What is it about nature that is so calming and reinvigorating? he wondered, recounting the time a friend with Tourette’s syndrome became calm and tic-free on a hike in the desert. And how is it that patients with advanced dementia or Alzheimer’s disease can’t remember how to do everyday things like tie their shoes. “But put them in front of a flower bed with some seedlings, and they will know exactly what to do. I have never seen such a patient plant something upside down,” Sacks recalled.
“Clearly, nature calls to something very deep in us,” he continued, explaining his belief that nature affects us deeply spiritually and emotionally, as well as physically and neurologically. Had I read that essay before his death, I might have written Dr. Sacks a letter saying that, as a longtime gardener and lover of long walks in the woods, I couldn’t agree more with what he said in that lovely bit of writing. (Which can be found in the posthumously-published collection, Everything in Its Place: First Loves and Last Tales.) I’m not sure how I developed biophilia, an urge to connect with living things and nature, which I suppose progressed over time into hortophilia, the desire to interact with, manage and tend nature. But I’ve got both Big Time. And I know a whole lot of other gardeners who would say they do too.
Like Sacks, I can’t precisely tell you how nature works its mojo on people, but I do remember the first time I saw it happen. I was in college and working nights and weekends at a women’s shelter in North Minneapolis. The shelter had once been a convent for nuns, so the narrow, tile-floored room I used as an “office” had probably once been a nun’s bedroom. Our country doesn’t care about people who are struggling with mental illness, so the underfunded shelter paid me, and several other young women, about $8 an hour to look after dozens of women of all ages who had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and/or other serious mental health issues. Tucked away in their own narrow nunnery rooms upstairs, those women were also often dealing eating disorders, broken hearts, drug-and-alcohol addiction and abusive boyfriends who showed up to bang on the front door at all hours of the night.
Read More»Growing Tomatoes is Easier Than You Might Think
- On June 10, 2020
- By Meleah
- In Uncategorized
0
I’ll just say it: It took a global pandemic for me to actually grow tomatoes from seed successfully. Sure, I’ve saved tomato seeds and tried to start them under lights in my basement in the past, but something (or lots of things) always went wrong. I think that’s because I’m more of a big-picture person—details, shmetails, I think, as my loaves of bread fail to rise, and the quilt I started 20 years ago is still in pieces in a box.
But this year, fearing that I might not be able to buy tomato seedlings because of the coronavirus quarantine, I planted a few varieties, using seeds I already had stored away in the basement—black cherry, Black Krim, red and yellow mini pear tomatoes from Renee’s Garden, as well as Cherokee Purple. I didn’t have high hopes but I’m happy to report that every single tomato seedling survived in my care and, you know, it really wasn’t that hard. I might even start my own tomatoes from seed from now on. But let’s not get too carried away right now.
I’ve got all of the tomatoes transplanted, like you probably do by now. So the next step is to keep them healthy all season. Anyone who grows tomatoes knows weird stuff can go wrong. Sun is important, of course, and more is better. Now that the trees have matured around our yard, my tomatoes only get about 5 hours of sun, so it’s “not exactly Tuscany over here,” as a friend recently said to me. But we get enough of a crop to make loads of great salsa, so it’s worth it. If you’re struggling with not enough sun, one thing you can do is grow your tomatoes in large pots on rolling plant stands. I got mine at Ikea a long time ago, and a lot of garden centers carry them now too. If you’re home a lot, like many of us are these days, it’s easy to roll your plants into the sun as it moves around throughout the day.
And here’s a neat tip that you might not know: Tomatoes should be buried deeply at planting time. I know that sounds weird since most things should not be buried underground like that. But what you want to do with tomatoes is pull off the leaves along the lower 2/3 of the stem, and bury that part in a nice, deep hole so that only the top 1/3 is above ground. Doing that will help your tomatoes develop much stronger root systems because buried stems sprout additional roots to support the plants.
Read More»Planting Seeds and Waking Bees
- On March 17, 2020
- By Meleah
- In Annuals, Herbs, Seeds, Uncategorized
- 1
Spring is nearly here and it feels like an extra special relief this season as Coronavirus sweeps the world. We’re all supposed to stay at home to protect others and help save lives, and since it’s probably a bad idea to eat cake and drink wine 24/7, let me suggest that we all plant a few seeds—flowers, herbs, vegetables—we’ve got loads of seeds in the Little Free Seed Library on our boulevard. In case you don’t already know, we always use the top shelf of our Little Free Library for seed sharing in the spring and fall. If you’d like to pick up or drop off some seeds, the library is located on our boulevard on the corner of 45th Street and Washburn Ave. S. in Linden Hills.
If you have seeds to share, please bring them in their original packets or label them in envelopes or baggies so people can clearly see what they are. A HUGE thank you to whoever dropped off a whole bunch of great seeds recently, all seemingly harvested from their own garden and neatly labeled, including tall purple allium, yellow meadow rue, butterfly weed, blue Baptisia, bottle gentian, Short’s aster, Grandpa Ott’s morning glories and clematis integrifolia (a bush-type).
The Little Free Seed Library is all stocked up!
We always appreciate seed donations so we can keep the library stocked, but we are especially grateful this year because our biggest source of donated seeds is no longer able to get them and pass them on to us. Because of that, I’ve been writing to seed companies to see about getting some donations. Several responded positively, but only Renee’s Garden actually sent some, asking only for the price of shipping, which I happily paid. Sharing seeds is one way I try to make the world a little brighter. If you feel the same, please come on by with some seeds to share, and take some home for yourself!
PLEASE NOTE—because people who feel fine can still have the virus, you should wash your hands well after touching the seed packets and/or books in our library.
Wake Up Little Bees
Did you store a native bee house in a garage or shed for the winter? If you did, don’t forget to bring it outside in early spring. As I wrote in my September column, this is the first year I’ve overwintered a bee house so I’m learning along with you. Here’s what to do: when you first start seeing early spring flowers, bring the bee house outside and, if you haven’t already, put it in a cardboard box or plastic container with a small hole cut in the top or side. Find a spot where the box will be protected from rain and wind and give the bees some time to wake up and fly out of the box through the hole. They’ll be looking for a new place to stay, so have another bee house ready and waiting for them, if possible. Be patient, it may take several weeks for all of the bees to leave.
Soon I’ll be moving our bee house back outside.
A Few Spring Tips
Believe me, I want to run out into the muck and start planting as much as you do, BUT try not to do that. Walking on, and digging in, wet soil harm’s its structure, making it more apt to become hard and compacted. If you can pick up a handful of soil and wring moisture out of it, it’s too wet to work with.
Soon it will be spring!
Don’t despair. There’s plenty of other stuff to do: take off tree wraps, cut back perennials and grasses that you left up all winter, prune shrubs (not the ones that will bloom on last-year’s growth like lilacs, mock orange, forsythia and witch hazel), toss out dead annuals that are still hanging around. Do not decide until way into June whether your hardy hibiscus is dead or alive. It can take a long while for those to come up. Maybe order up a couple of yards of compost and/or manure and have it delivered to your driveway. That way, you can take your time breaking your back (and the backs of your loved ones) hauling it over to top off planters and garden beds. It’s stinky, dirt work and I really enjoy it because I know how happy our plants will be. My husband, Mike, um, not so much.
Hey, Buddy, Can You Spare Some Turkey Chow?
- On November 17, 2019
- By Meleah
- In Critters, Natural Wonders, Uncategorized
- 0
Winter is coming, so we’re busy cleaning birdhouses, putting up more feeders and plugging in a few heated water bowls for birds and other wildlife. We know it’s ill-advised to bring every shivering creature into our house when it gets cold. So we do what we can to make the freezing months a little less harrowing by providing some food, shelter and water.
Two wild tom turkeys strutting their stuff. Courtesy of iStock
Bitter cold makes me worry about all living things that must survive outside. But I probably worry most about wild turkeys. Those strange-looking animals, which are ubiquitous in the city these days, will eat all sorts of things. But they can’t forage for food in deep snow because their little pokey turkey legs just can’t propel them through it, especially when the snow is powdery. So the turkeys hunker down under evergreen trees and shrubs, trying to wait it out. But if the snow doesn’t melt, they will starve to death in just a few weeks.
Last winter was the first time I’d ever heard about this sad turkey situation, so my husband, Mike, and I only spent a couple of months trying to feed hungry wild turkeys before the snow melted. This year, we’re prepared to do more. Of course, I know that for a lot of reasons, people aren’t supposed to go around feeding animals in winter. But while some of those reasons are well-founded, there’s plenty of dumb, cruel rationalizing going on out there too. So I looked up why we shouldn’t feed turkeys, and one of the most-made arguments falls into the latter category, I’d say.
I’m paraphrasing here, but the basic rationale is that since a 15-pound turkey usually eats about 5 pounds of food per week, you would have to put out thousands of pounds of food routinely if you wanted to save more than a few turkeys from starvation. What? How do you ever get anything done with that sort of attitude? I may not be able to feed a whole bunch of turkeys, but I’m sure the ones I can find and feed will be glad to have lived through the winter.
Lady, it’s cold outside! Courtesy of iStock.
How did Mike and I get so hung up on turkeys? We see them all the time when we visit his mom’s grave at Lakewood Cemetery in Minneapolis. That place is crawling with turkeys and they almost always seem to be little families, everyone walking around together, necks bobbing as they search the ground for acorns, seeds, berries, worms, spiders, snails, beetles, slugs—even frogs and snakes. I know turkeys can be a nuisance, and even aggressive in some situations. But, in my experience, they mostly just run off when they see people coming toward them. I mean, who’s really more likely to turn the other into a sandwich?
While researching this whole turkey-feeding thing, I did find one good reason not to feed them, and that was because it might make them too tame. No one really wants turkeys coming to the door for a snack. And being too comfortable with people might also get the turkeys into trouble if they approach the wrong person and wind up hurt. When circumstances are dire, though, New Hampshire’s Fish and Game website says that exceptions can be made if “there is 15 or more inches of soft powder snow on the ground for a period of 10 or more days.” In that case, they say, feel free to feed wild turkeys “cracked or whole kernel corn, sunflower seeds, oats, wheat, or non-medicated commercial poultry or turkey rations.”
Once the snow starts falling, we plan to keep plastic buckets of “turkey chow,” as we call it, in the car. Like last year, when we spot wild turkeys, or go to specific places we know they are likely to be, we’ll stop and put out some food. If you’re interested in feeding wild turkeys when times get tough too, another approach is to feed them where you see them roosting this winter, often under evergreen trees. That same Fish and Game site advises spreading the food around, about ½ cup per turkey daily, so everyone gets something to eat. Try to do this away from busy roads and buildings. Stop when the snow has melted away enough for them to forage again.
Know that your kindness just might help a bunch of weird-looking turkeys live to enjoy another spring.
Keep Your Wild Bee House Safe for Bees
- On September 30, 2019
- By Meleah
- In Bugs, Natural Wonders, Uncategorized
- 3
It’s not news to anyone that honey bee populations are declining due to disease, pests, loss of habitat, pesticides and other issues. But most of us have a lot to learn about native bees, which I’ve seen many more of in my garden this year—and you may have too. North America is home to about 4,000 native bee species, many with names that reflect their nest-building styles and/or habits such as leafcutter bees, mason bees, cuckoo bees, bumble bees and carpenter bees.
Often so small as to go unnoticed, native bees of various sizes and colors are out there busily foraging and pollinating plants. But unlike honey bees, most native bees are more solitary than social. Meaning, they don’t live in hives or work together as a group. Instead, they create nests of their own in all kinds of oddball places; mud holes, abandoned burrows, fallen trees and tunnel-like spaces such as hollow plant stems and holes made by woodpeckers and bugs.
Sure, you might see a bunch of native bees nesting in the same small area, but they’re still going to keep mostly to themselves even though they’re neighbors. That kind of I’ll-do-my-thing-you-do-yours style of communal living community has inspired the creation of all sorts of native bee boxes—the cuter ones dubbed houses or hotels. In an effort to help native bees, well-meaning people, including me, have gone out and bought (or built) a bee house of one kind or another. Once I nailed the house up, I did some research to better understand how to care for it and found out that, having a nesting spot for native bees can be a great thing if you manage it properly. But things can go terribly wrong if you don’t.
Just like human dwellings, unkempt bee houses can be gross places that play host to viruses, pests, fungi, bacteria and other harmful things. If you want to help keep the bees you’ve invited to stay safe and healthy, here’s what you need to know. Bee dwellings are designed to replicate the different sorts of nesting sites many native bees like, so they’re usually some kind of a wooden structure with a whole bunch of hollow tubes made of reeds, bamboo, heavy cardboard or other tunnel-like material in one area. Other spaces are stocked with blocks with holes of various widths and depths drilled in them, and maybe even some pinecones. (To learn more about native bees and how to build your own bee house, read this University of Minnesota Bee Lab article.
Bees nest and lay eggs in different ways but, in general, they mate in the spring and summer and the females lay their eggs inside whatever cavity or tunnel she’s made or found. Often, the mom bee divides the nest into separate brood cells, starting at the back of the cavity or tunnel and moving outward, so that each egg is laid in its own separate space with just enough pollen to feed the emerging larva. Sections are sealed with a bit of mud, leaves, flowers or whatever else she’s got on hand until, finally, she reaches the end of the tunnel and caps the end with more of the same. I’ve watched bees doing this at our bee box all summer, and it’s been an amazing thing to see, all those tubes packed with different-colored material, bees-to-be tucked snugly inside.
As you can imagine, those tubes and holes are going to get pretty mucked up by summer’s end. Here’s the problem: If you bought a cheap, but cute, little bee house like mine to see how this whole native bee thing works, those tubes and blocks are probably glued in so you can’t take them out to clean them. It’s fine to reuse a house two years in a row, but after that, those bargain houses need to be thrown away since they can’t be cleaned. My bee house was $14, so I’m fine with having made that initial investment in bee housing. Now that I’ve seen how bees really use it, I plan to ask my handy husband, Mike, to help me build a nicer bee box that we can clean next year.
Whether you use an inexpensive box that you throw away after a couple of years, buy a high-quality one (Crown Bees is a good source) or make your own, there are a few things you can do as winter approaches to help protect the bees-to-be. Sometime in October, take your bee house down and put it in an unheated shed or garage so that hungry birds and other critters won’t snack on what’s inside. In early spring, when the first flowers arrive, put the bee box inside a cardboard or plastic container with a small hole cut in the top or side. Find a spot outside that’s protected from rain and wind and allow the bees some time to emerge and fly out of the box through the hole. It’s best to have a fresh bee house already waiting nearby for them to start using.
Once the bees are all gone, which might take a couple of months, depending on the type of bees that have nested, you can clean the box if it’s cleanable. If you’d like to learn more about native bees, have a look at local author Heather Holm’s fantastic books Bees: An Identification and Native Plant Forage Guide and Pollinators of Native Plants.
