Adopt a Garden at Historic Rockingham

If you're looking to garden this year but don't have space, why not rub shoulders with some of the area's history and adopt one of the raised beds at Rockingham. I was told at Communiversity that the Stonybrook Garden Club is no longer tending to the gardens, and Rockingham has decided to offer the individual beds to willing volunteers in the community.

They may still have a bed or two available. These are photos from a previous post about the place. George Washington stayed there while the U.S. government was briefly based at Nassau Hall in Princeton. The story goes that he rode his horse into town on what is now Mt. Lucas Road. There was a small quarry on the property back then, and the house has been moved three times since, because of all the highly marketable trap rock they kept finding underneath it.

Staff say that the house is now safely in a spot where it will not be disturbed again. They've added an orchard and just finished installing a barn, which they plan to use for hosting events.

The house is just outside Kingston, perched above the Millstone Valley. Might be a good destination for a bike ride down the DR Canal towpath.

What I remember most vividly from my visit there, for some reason, was the thorns on the hawthorn trees, which in Washington's day were used for pins in clothing. People wore nature back then.

Contact for the Friends Group for Rockingham is 683-7132, and rockingham.net.

Making Spring Cleaning Easy at Harrison Street Park

On the fringe of a town park, during an hour on the fringe of our day, Clifford and I prepared a public garden for the summer to come. It competes, like all to-do's on the fringes of our lives, with countless other priorties, yet it's a garden we planted together, and we're the ones who know how to take care of it. And besides, spring cleaning gives us a chance to catch up on each other's lives.

It's easy to like a garden when it's full of flowers, but now, when glimmers of green are just emerging through the spent remains of last year's glory, is when a garden's prospects for the year are determined. A "swale garden" like this one--not really a raingarden because it doesn't hold any water back--has a lot going for it. Benefitting as it does from abundant sunlight and the runoff from a parking lot, spring cleanup is easy. Knock down the old stalks, pile them up, that's it. We could have left the pile for a parks crew to haul away,

but then I noticed some mugwort starting to get established near the back fenceline, and decided to put them to use. Overlapping pieces of cardboard were placed over the mugwort, topped by the dead stalks of spent sunflowers. Less work for the parks crew, less mugwort, which has overgrown some of the other, less robust plantings in the park. Win-wins are important when time is scarce. The sticks may look a little untidy right now, but they'll quickly disappear beneath new growth, and will help cool the soil and retain moisture during the summer months.

Though the garden looks drab and static, a gardener can see the forces at work. In this springtime still-life, life is anything but still. Like schoolchildren on a slow-motion flowerbed playground, each plant species has its own personality. Some "play well with others", content to stay where they're planted. Some are bullies, grabbing space and sunlight from the less aggressive sorts. A good "playground supervisor" sees the conflicts coming, and intervenes before things get out of hand. Native sunflowers, with their aggressive underground rhizomes and height advantage, have been steadily advancing to claim the whole space. There are still some non-spreading species hanging in there. Hibiscus moscheutos, tall meadowrue and cutleaf coneflower are tall enough to compete, leaping for a piece of the sun in this botanical game of basketball, but even their years are numbered if we don't return to weed out some of the aggressors.

Years back when we planted the garden, we did a lot of things right, but made a common mistake, thinking it was okay to plant the perennial sunflowers to fill some of the copious space, because surely we'd be vigilant enough to limit their spread. Now we'd need to weed out hundreds of new sunflower shoots each year if we wanted to preserve the diversity from which comes a variety of blooms throughout summer and fall. The result is pleasing enough, though, with spectacular yellow blooms in late summer, and essentially no weeds. Any garden that's weed-free and attractive while requiring only two man hours of work per year can be considered a success.

Elsewhere in the park, in flower beds planted by contractors as part of a grand design, the weeds are getting the upper hand. What looks like undifferentiated green in this photo is really a mixed bag. There's still some diversity, but the botanical bullies are poised to take over. That big clump with pretty yellow flowers is an ominous sign. Called lesser celandine, it's a nonnative that will spread aggressively if left to grow. Now, when there's only one plant in the entire park, is the time to dig it out, put it in a plastic bag and send it to the landfill.

Garlic mustard is another aggressive spreader best pulled now, before it starts growing flowers.

Elsewhere in the flowerbed, in this sea of nonnative Canada thistle and mugwort, is one of the intended native plants--wood phlox, barely noticeable there on the right. It will soon offer a beautiful blue flower, but the best time to take action is before it starts flowering. Someone with a good eye for plants needs to swoop in and save it from the quiet sea of aggressors rising all around it.

Most native plantings are low-maintenance. Like any sort of management, if you get everything running smoothly, the manager's workload will be light. With some strategic timing and finesse, and auspicious siting of the gardens to take advantage of sun and runoff, the mutiny of Canada thistle in this photo would be caught early and kept from gaining momentum.

Who might do this work is a good question. Princeton employs only one staff person whose job it is to know one plant from another--one more staff than most towns hire. That's the arborist, whose primary focus is on trees. Another employee, in the recreaction dept, tends to the beautiful plantings around the rec offices and swimming pool, but that's above and beyond her official duties. In most parks, grass gets mowed, trees get some attention, but the rest of the plant kingdom is on its own, unless some volunteers come along with time and knowledge.

To sustain more interesting and attractive plantings, there would need to be someone who knows the plants, knows the various times during the year when strategic intervention will be most effective, and can mobilize some volunteers to do the work. If someone is, or at least feels, responsible, then parks can be a playground for plants as well as people, a place where people can get to know something of our natural heritage. A garden is a long-range commitment. If done right, it can be sustained, year after year, along the fringes of a park, with a few hours now and then, found on the fringes of our days.

Marsh Marigold vs. Lesser Celandine

Yellow is not so mellow in April and May, when one of the uber-invasives, lesser celandine, carpets many floodplains and spreads across lawns. The now massive population at Pettoranello Gardens no doubt started as a clump here and there. In an example of how the management of one park can affect others, the lesser celandine at Pettoranello Gardens has since spread downstream to infest the lower portion of Mountain Lakes preserve, where it is displacing the native species that have long filled a similar niche in a less domineering way.

The lesser celandine is often confused with the native marsh marigold, which I've never seen growing naturally in Princeton. To show how they can be distinguished, I planted some marsh marigold (bought at Pinelands Nursery) down near the stream at Pettoranello Gardens, in a spot that would benefit from the stream's steady water supply but not be swept away by floods. The location proved a good choice, because it has survived many years now. You can see it at the top of the photo, taller and with larger leaves than the lesser celandine in the lower half of the photo. More marsh marigold has been thriving at the Princeton High School ecolab wetland, which too has the stable presence of moisture the native requires.

Ecologically, the only good news I know about lesser celandine is that there are still some parts of Princeton that have not been colonized by it. But those locations must be monitored each year to catch invasions before they get out of hand. To take a for instance, in Community Park North, which is upstream of Pettoranello Gardens, I found only two small patches that could easily be treated to prevent spread. The plant likely got there on the shoes of someone hiking on a muddy day.

Three Ways a House Can Feed a Raingarden

(First, a note: The Historical Society of Princeton is hosting Community Days the first Saturday of every month out at its Updike Farmstead on Quaker Road. More info at this link.)

Last month, the Updike Farmstead Community Day featured yours truly. I had planned to give three different presentation, but since most people came to hear about Herrontown Woods and the Veblen legacy, I ended up giving that presentation twice.

We did get outside long enough to check out the trees and learn about raingarden logic. The two most prized trees on the property--evidenced by their stature and the steel cables someone ran up their trunks long ago to serve as lightning rods--are a gorgeous sugar maple near the house and a large white ash along the driveway. As the emerald ash borer advances towards Princeton, the ash will need to be treated with emamectin benzoate, a systemic insecticide injected into the base of the tree every few years. Arbor-Mectin is one of the brand names. A fuller discussion of the issue can be found towards the bottom at this link.

The Updike Farm house is a great example for learning how to site a raingarden on your property. That circle in the foreground is the spot I suggested, in a low spot about 15 feet from the house.

Why that particular location next to the Updike Farm house? Because that's where the house could feed the raingarden in three different ways. For one, there's this pipe which drains a quarter of the main roof. That's a lot of rainwater to feed the garden.

Even better, there's a sump pump that pumps water from the basement out a pipe next to the foundation. You can see the deterioration of the paint at the base of the wall due to that moisture. It would be better for the house, and conducive for a raingarden, to instead pipe that water out to the raingarden location, where it can do some good. A sump pump continues to pump water out of a basement for a number of days after a rain, extending the period during which the raingarden will get supplied with water.

Also auspicious for keeping a raingarden watered, even during prolonged droughts, is the set of air conditioners lined up on that side of the house. Air conditioners remove water from the indoor air as part of the cooling process, and in the basement of the Updike farm house, we discovered that that condensate drains to the sump pump, which then pumps it out of the house. That means the pump could supply water to the garden even during droughts. That consistent, automatic watering will keep the native plants growing vigorously and reduce the weeding required.

Seems like a perfect spot for a raingarden.



The Mountain Lakes House raingarden, similarly sited, is a good model.

More about the Updike Farmstead: If you go out there, or stop by on the way to Route 1, check out the barn renovation.

It's good to see an old building getting the attention it needs and deserves.

A new foundation is being laid.

With the bike trail along Quaker Road completed, it's now possible to bike out to Updike Farm, then continue to the canal,

and bike back to Princeton along the towpath.

Saying "Yes, and..." To Nature and Ideas

Earthday being everyday, here's an Earthday offering:

If there’s one thing I wish people would let go of on this Earthday, both locally and nationally, it’s pessimism in all its manifestations. Well, maybe not all. That’s asking too much. But at least a few. Some equate pessimism with seeing trouble ahead, but the entrenched pessimism we face is the sort that casts us as helpless to find and act on solutions. Sometimes one form of pessimism gets piled on another, as in: “We can’t know if climate change is real and risky, or if it is there’s nothing we can do about it, and if there is something we could do then we couldn’t possibly get other towns, states, and nations to work together.” That’s a kind of pessimism sandwich a lot of people eat for lunch every day.

Locally, pessimism takes the form of resistance to change. There’s some sense in a “look before you leap” approach, but when a solution is offered to a local problem, the tendency is to look and look and look, and never leap.

The paralysis and sense of foreboding that permeates our era is due in part to our capacity to collectively create problems while stubbornly resisting efforts to collectively solve them. The reflexive response to proposed solutions is to search for flaw and fear the negative consequences of any action. We see safety in inaction, but inaction is often the riskier course.

In such a situation, the arts are instructive. My impulse to seek collective solutions comes in part from playing in musical ensembles, where good results can only come from working together. And the cure for that pesky habit of focusing on flaw in any proposal for change can be found in theater improv, where the actors on stage succeed only if they commit to creating something new, together. I’ve done a little improv, and seen others try it for the first time, and typically our ingrained response is to contradict the acting partner, to take exception to what’s offered, and thereby sabotage the scene. The catchwords of theater improve are “Yes, and…”, which in community problem solving would take the form of greeting proposed solutions not with reflexive negativity but instead with “How can we make this work?”

In a way, we are in an ongoing improv with the earth, too often fighting against nature, resisting its logic, rejecting its offerings, and thereby defeating ourselves in this long-running scene in one corner of the universe. We set the stage, surrounding ourselves with suburban nature, then purge our yards of rainwater and leaves rather than explore how we could use them to advantage. Spring is a time when every tree and flower is saying “Yes, and…” We should try doing the same.

First published in the Town Topics on the official Earthday, April 22.

Terhune Orchards' "Turning 40" Tour

As I hurried to catch the start of a 40th anniversary tour of Terhune Orchards, surprised that I was actually on time, I passed a major showoff in the chicken coop. The white peacock was trying to impress the chickens, who were clearly more interested in the food.

As with the chickens, it's the food that's always impressed me about Terhune Orchards. No big show, just consistently great when it comes to taste and quality. No fancy facade, just keepin' it real. Cider, donuts, apples that just keep coming, and some 35 other crops to make the short drive out of town worthwhile. There's also the integration of business and community spirit, of which the chickens may not have paid much notice.

On this farm, utility is mixed with charm. History sits comfortably mingled with the modern in a multi-generational assemblage of "stuff".

Speaking of connections with the past, it turns out that the Terhunes, from whom the Mounts bought the farm 40 years ago, shared some common ancestors with Gary Mount, who had grown up on a farm in West Windsor next to Route 1. The Mounts learned of this only many years after the purchase.

I made it to the big barn in time for introductory remarks by three generations of Mounts. Two daughters and their families have returned to continue the tradition.

Solar panels on the big red barn, constructed by Amish woodworkers using the traditional oak pins instead of nails, supply 40% of the energy required to run the barn's climate control machinery.

Apples are stored in two different chambers. One is kept cold and humid, and keeps the apples fresh for several months. The other is for longterm storage. There, behind lock and key, the process of ripening and decay is stymied by dropping the oxygen level from 20% down to 2%. The oxygen is pushed out by injecting additional nitrogen into the room. Each month in the winter and spring, the door is opened, oxygen is allowed in so that workers can breathe, and a month's worth of apples are moved to the other chamber.

Outside, honey bees were pollinating the cherry blossoms. During the two weeks just before harvest, plastic is drawn over the hoops to protect the cherries from rain (and supposedly from the birds as well). Otherwise, the cherries will absorb the moisture and crack.

Apple trees are now planted much closer together than in the tradition configuration seen in the parking lot. Their trunks are so weak that they need to be staked, lest they fall over with a heavy load of apples, but the harvest is double what it used to be.

Pick your own asparagus. Ruth Stout, in her book from the 1940s called "How To Have a Green Thumb Without An Aching Back", described how gardeners used to dig a two foot deep trench to plant their asparagus in, then backfilled slowly as the asparagus grew. All that work, Stout contended, was unnecessary. Simply plant the asparagus at ground level. I didn't ask Gary Mount what his planting method is, but they make farming look so easy, I'm sure they don't seek out unnecessary work.

Some years back, one of their employees took an interest in greenhouse gardening, and the Mounts went with it. There are now three greenhouses, with one separated from the other tow, devoted to organic methods. Cloth is pulled over the space in winter, to provide at least a little insulation for this fuel-intensive space.

We got a tour of the bakery. It's surprisingly small, considering the output, not much larger than some expansive kitchens I've seen in private homes around town. The cider operation, too, is surprisingly compact. Apples that have slight blemishes or are too small for sale as apples are used to make cider. There's some thought put into blending different kinds. I asked why Terhune Orchard cider is so much richer in taste than other brands, and learned that most cider makers don't grow their own apples, but are supplied with small apples without much flavor. Stayman apples, not often used elsewhere, are also a particularly rich component of Terhune cider.

That accordion-like structure in the background, reminiscent of an Argentine bandoneon, is the cider press. I didn't ask whether the press plays tangoes while squeezing. The cider's then flash pasteurized, stored in big stainless steel containers designed for dairy operations, then jugged. The pulp is spread on fields using a manure spreader.

That was the tour. Gary headed out on a tractor to plant some corn. I headed back to town with donuts and asparagus, to catch some of Communiversity. Happy anniversary, Terhune Orchards! May there be 40 more.

Upcoming Talks on Climate, Native Plants

Michael Lemonick: Climate Change From a Journalist's Perspective, Tuesday, April 28, 7pm, DR Greenway Johnson Center off Rosedale Road. Michael was one of the first journalists to write about climate change, and has worked in Princeton at Climate Central for many years.

Doug Tallamy: The Garden Club of Princeton is teaming with the Friends of Princeton Open Space and the public library to bring entomologist Doug Tallamy to town on Monday, May 4. Best known for his book, Bringing Nature Home, he and his students at U. of Delaware have provided much of the data showing the tremendous importance of native plant species in the diets of insects. The insects, in turn, provide critical nutrition for birds as they feed their young a high-protein diet in the spring. A previous post about how that knowledge can inform your choice of plants for the yard can be found here. Tallamy spoke some years back at DR Greenway. The library is hosting the May 4 talk at 7pm.

New Nature Center Poised to Serve and Inspire

A trip out to Rosedale Mills last weekend to buy chicks led us to stop by the Stonybrook Millstone Watershed headquarters to check out their new watershed center. Our quick but very rewarding and uplifting visit offered a sneak preview prior to the Grand Opening this coming Saturday, May 2, from 11-3pm. The extraordinary building goes by the official name of Watershed Center for Environmental Advocacy, Science and Education. Topped with solar panels to generate electricity and hot water, surrounded by raingardens and constructed wetlands, this Platinum LEED structure mixes modern technology with warm earth tones.

When we stopped in, staff were fitting out the interior with environmental displays. A large bank of windows offers a gorgeous view of the constructed pond that's fed by water from the building's roof.

The pond's already begun to attract wildlife that will be easily viewed from inside.

Rainwater flows through a broad swale into the pond. This will be great habitat for all the showy native floodplain wildflowers that make wet, sunny areas prime planting grounds to benefit pollinators.

This looks like an economical form of porous pavement--essentially a grid of thick recycled plastic sitting atop gravel. Grass will grow through the openings, creating a lawn that can withstand the weight of vehicles. Porous pavement is only as porous as the ground beneath it, which is why the plastic matting sits on gravel rather than the local clay.

If you click on this fuzzy photo, you might be able to read the detailed info the Center provides about the porous pavement, which is a substitute for asphalt.

This diagram shows how water is heated by sunlight and then distributed through the building.

A large area some distance from the building is devoted to wastewater treatment.

The wastewater goes through a series of septic tanks, then into an area where the nutrients and water are utilized and purified by plants.

Clicking on this photo will show some of the details. Other features of the building include use of rainwater to flush toilets, and passive ventilation, in which hot air is exhausted through vents near the roof.

It's such a buoying experience to witness a structure that is working with nature rather than against it, now just opening up and ready to serve the Princeton area with learning and inspiration. Follow this link for more info.

Arbor Day, Tree Seedling Giveaway, and Other Shade Tree Commission Announcements

Today's Arbor Day, and you'd think that, as chair of the Princeton Shade Tree Commission, I'd have a post about it. Seems so predictable to do so, but here are some updates from the STC:

ARBOR DAY TREE PLANTING
With Princeton's new arborist, Lorraine Konopka, and STC member Pam Machold on hand, third grade students at Riverside Elementary will be planting a Dogwood Tree at 1:30 today, April 24. The public is invited to attend.

PRINCETON'S NEW ARBORIST
You can read about Lorraine Konopka, and the coming invasion of Emerald Ash Borer, in this Town Topics profile.

COMMUNIVERSITY, Sunday, April 26, 2015, 1-6pm

The Shade Tree Commission will distribute free Kousa Dogwood and Willow Oak seedlings to the first 200 attendees who stop by our booth. The STC booth will be on Nassau Street, between the intersection of Witherspoon and Palmer Square. The tree seedlings are part of the New Jersey Tree Recovery Campaign.

EARTHDAY CONTRIBUTION

Thanks to the The Taco Truck restaurant, located in the Princeton Shopping Center, for donating 10% of Earthday proceeds to the Princeton Shade Tree Trust Reserve. Funds in the Shade Tree Trust are used to plant and maintain Princeton’s public street trees.

10% of Taco Truck's Earthday Sales Benefit the Princeton Shade Tree Commission

If you've been meaning to check out the new Taco Truck at Princeton Shopping Center, or are a regular customer, Earthday is a good day to stop by.  The restaurant will be donating 10% of its Earthday sales this Wednesday, April 22, to the Princeton Shade Tree Commission. The Taco Truck brings authentic Mexican taqueria cuisine to the east coast, and actually runs one of its restaurants out of a truck.

Sustainability is a strong component of the Taco Truck's approach, with all packaging either recyclable or compostable, and an overall effort to minimize negative impact on the planet.

As chair of the Shade Tree Commission, I want to thank Taco Truck for reaching out with this generous offer.

serving food that is truly authentic to the taquerias of Mexico, incorporating hospitality into every aspect of our business, minimizing our negative impact on the planet and remaining active in our neighborhood through ongoing community involvement.

serving food that is truly authentic to the taquerias of Mexico, incorporating hospitality into every aspect of our business, minimizing our negative impact on the planet and remaining active in our neighborhood through ongoing community involvement.serving food that is truly authentic to the taquerias of Mexico, incorporating hospitality into every aspect of our business, minimizing our negative impact on the planet and remaining active in our neighborhood through ongoing community involvement.

Mountain Lakes and Spring's Promise

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and gardeners are the soothsayers of beauty. We see promise of future beauty where others may see black planting trays and brown soil. These trays, in the little greenhouse at Mountain Lakes House, are all set to grow native wildflowers for planting in restoration projects nearby.

There's summer beauty, too, sleeping in this raingarden that I designed and FOPOS (Friends of Princeton Open Space) later installed. Some of the raingarden's beauty is in the house's dry basement, which used to flood before we diverted runoff away from the foundation and into the garden. The house is flourishing as a beautiful location for weddings and other events, with the income going to fund open space work in town.

There's sleeping beauty in this field dotted with young trees, just across the driveway from the house.  Many of the trees are bur oaks that were grown in the municipal tree nursery over at Smoyer Park. Bur oaks are more commonly found in the midwest, where they were the keystone species in the extraordinarily rich and diverse oak savannas of pre-colonial America. That ecosystem, lost in a sea of exotic buckthorn and honeysuckle and then pieced back together by botanist Stephen Packard and others, now thrives once more in restored habitats in and around Chicago and other parts of the midwest. I don't know if Princeton will ever open up to the idea of prescribed burns, which play such an important role in maintaining native grasslands and savannas, but one vision of future beauty would be having the meadows of Tusculum grade into a post oak savanna.

There's an extraordinary new film called Inhabit, which documents the permaculture movement. The film was shown at the recent Princeton Environmental Film Festival. Permaculture is a kind of agriculture that emulates wild plant communities in order to grow food for people. A farm emulating the oak savanna might have chestnut trees, with an understory of hazelnuts, and cane fruits and some annual crops in the openings between the scattered trees.

Since hazelnuts are described in the film as having been a common understory species in the oak savanna, and the savannas depended on periodic low-intensity fires sweeping through, then how did the hazelnut survive the fires? This photo of one of the three hazelnut shrubs growing wild at Mountain Lakes shows the many stems generated at the base. The "cool" periodic fires would likely have singed the outer stems but left untouched the stems growing closer to the center of the clone. The oaks are protected by their thick bark.

There was an accidental fire in Mountain Lakes a couple years ago. The area burned makes an interesting study in the typically beneficial effects of periodic controlled burns--a management technique used elsewhere in NJ.

Not sure there's much beauty, present or future, in the riprap stones used to armor the outfall of the lower Mountain Lake, but the dams themselves are beautifully restored.

A botanist can even see beauty in a sewer line right of way, where the opening in the trees allows direct sunlight to reach the ground and foster growth of sedges and wildflowers not common elsewhere in the preserve.

A thick layer of woodchips was laid down on the right of way last year, just down from the lakes, in order to support the heavy equipment needed to install a footbridge.

Two bridges were funded by a grant from the Concordia Foundation, and will provide access to the southwestern corner of Mountain Lakes Preserve.

Note: A nature walk by FOPOS staff will follow this Sunday's 3pm annual meeting of FOPOS at Mountain Lakes House.