Posts | Deborah Silver & Co.

The 2014 Espaliers

As long as I am on the topic of pruning woody plants, I would like to devote a little time to a discussion of espaliered trees. An espalier is any tree which has been trained to grow in two dimensions. Espaliers can have great height, and great width, but with next to no depth. They are pruned flat. This training can take a long time. They are great trees for very shallow places.

The history of growing espaliers dates back centuries, to a certain French monk, Fr. Lergendre, who was entrusted with the important job of providing food for his monastery. In those days, providing food meant growing it. Some of his discoveries were made out of sheer need. He wanted to grow lots of fruit trees, as he had lots of people to feed. The trees planted closest to the monastery walls fruited more heavily and more reliably, as the flowers were protected from late frosts by the heat generated from the walls. As his space was small, and his need great, he moved them closer and closer to the walls. And closer and closer together. There were many varieties he wished to grow. Eventually he cut the back branches off of the trees all together. Amazingly, the trees he eventually trained to grow flat against the walls produced more fruit than trees cultivated in the open. His work over a lifetime was detailed in a book he wrote, “Palmette Legendre”, published in 1684. The art of training fruit trees to grow against a wall in formally pruned shapes has persisted to this day.

Having worked for Al Goldner in the 80’s, I inherited his love of espaliers. He actually grew them on his farm in Howell. Many a time I have gone to look at an old existing landscape with a mature espalier, and known it was his design. We buy them from a number of different growers, in different shapes and sizes.

This redbud was an experimental espalier subject for one grower. It will have flowers on the main trunk this year. Almost any tree can be grown into an espalier, provided that the training and tying begins at an early age. A framework of bamboo or wire must be in place, so each branch grows the desired length and in the desired location. The process of making a branch turn from the horizontal to the vertical takes a lot of time, and must be started when the branch is young and flexible.

Branches on a fruiting pear tree harden off at a fairly early age. The decisions as to which shape and direction to take has to be done early on.

We have a collection of 7 old fruiting pear arbors. The eighth pair has already found a home. They are outrageously beautiful. We do construct a steel hoop armature for every arbor, so the vertical branches can be tied in place. These espaliers have sufficient age and strength that they will not need that armature for long. This is plant material that can make an entire garden. Like every other plant, any gardener can grow a tree arbor, provided they have some time and patience.

We also have a collection of 40 espalier apple trees of more modest size and dimension, and a small collection of espaliered grapes. If you have an interest in growing, training and pruning, an espalier might be a perfect addition to your garden. Interested further? I have written several essays about espaliers. If you type the word espalier into the search line of this blog, you’ll find them.

Posted on: May 8, 2014 13 Comments

Pruning With A Purpose

Pruning woody shrubs, when done properly, is good for the plants. Cutting out dead or diseased branches helps to preserve the overall health of the plant. Branches that cross over one another may damage the bark of both branches. Damage to the bark of a woody shrub is an invitation to insects and disease. Thinning out a woody shrub can help to maintain it at a desired size for many years. That thinning allows light and air to penetrate the interior spaces, keeping the interior of the shrub well foliated. In the hydrangea hedge above, the upper branches were kept long, a practice which eventually shaded the lower branches. The lower branches have leaves that are smaller, and fewer flowers. Once we started pruning these hydrangeas, we shortened the top branches considerably and unequally, and pruned the lower branches with the idea of encouraging lateral growth. Ideally, a hydrangea should be wider at the bottom than the top.

As an experiment, I did not prune my limelights at home at all last spring, but for removing the spent flower heads. My reason? I have a yew hedge in front of them. I wanted my hydangeas to grow tall, and have lots of blooms in the top third of the plant. On the inside of this hedge is a boxwood hedge, planted fairly close to the hydrangeas. For the health of the boxwood, I did not want a lot of foliage shading them. For hydrangeas blooming from top to bottom, the boxwood would have needed to be planted much further away. I did not have the luxury of that kind of space. This is what I mean by pruning with a purpose. Good pruning encourages the plant to grow in a way and direction that works with the natural habit of the plant-and the intended design.

This limelight hedge was planted with the specific intent of providing dense screening from top to bottom. The branches at the bottom are slightly longer and wider than the branches at the top. Hydrangeas, like most other deciduous shrub, cannot be pruned with a hedge trimmer. Cutting every branch at exactly the same height produces a proliferation of growth all at the same level. A single cut may produce 3 or 4 breaks, or new buds. This denies light and air to the branches below. Deciduous shrubs pruned for years in this in this manner have a thin green outer layer, and a dead twiggy interior.

Think shag hair cut. Shorter on the top, longer on the sides, with each cut an alternate length and direction. Each branch has to be pruned individually, one at a time-each at its own level. Every branch needs a home of its own, uncrowded by the leaves of a neighboring branch. Clusters of leaves that pester one another and compete for light eventually leads to overall decline. Lots of deciduous shrubs grow large. A big shrub planted in a tight space that always needs downsizing will never look or be happy and healthy. If you don’t have room for a limelight hydrangea, which will mature at 6-8 feet tall, plant Little Limes. They can comfortably be kept at 4 t0 5 feet tall and wide.

There are a few plants that are tolerant of shearing. Boxwood and yews are tolerant. Lindens have been pleached and formally grown into overhead hedges for centuries. A hydrangea is not a member of this group. They have a loose and shaggy natural shape. Pruning them needs to work with this natural habit. Landscapes where every deciduous shrub is pruned into ball, mushroom or cube shapes is a look that is heavy handed, and not good for the plants. Proper pruning takes a lot of time, but that time is well spent.

The effect of just one year not pruning my limelight hydrangeas is obvious. The shrubs have developed long bare legs Pruned down to 36″ tall will encourage lateral buds to break, and some branching at the bottom. From a distance, the boxwood disguises this legginess. In fact, I prune my hydrangeas differently every year. I like trying out different approaches and observing the results. Shrubs are quite tolerant of gardeners.

If you do have a shrub that is had become overgrown, or is suffering from long standing poor pruning, it is possible to renovate. An overgrown lilac might benefit from having a couple of old thick branches cut to the ground. This will encourage growth from the base. A privet that has been cut into a ball shape for too many years might be a good candidate for the swiss cheese treatment. Cut holes in the exterior thicket of branches so light can penetrate. The light is coming from overhead, so treating the top surface of the shrub is the most effective way.

I would say my hydrangeas have been cut hard this year. I see I have buds breaking here well below the cut. The trick is to cut close enough to a bud so no time and energy is wasted on a stub that will eventually die back. Cut too close to a bud, and you may damage it. For this reason, I may prune my hydrangeas again in a month of so. To encourage more branching. Very hard pruning can result in just a few stems, with overly large flowers that droop over. A sturdily branched hydrangea properly pruned will be a joy come bloom time.

Posted on: May 6, 2014 7 Comments

Filed Under: garden maintenance, Woody Plants Tagged With: pruning woody plants, pruning hydrangeas

Naturally Pruned

If you live in my zone, nature has beat you to the spring pruning. Shrubs weighed down by heavy snow loads have broken branches. Boxwood exposed to winter winds, extreme cold and snow loads show die back to varying degrees. Any ivy that has climbed into a tree or up the side of the building in a uniform shade of tan. Some of my roses are showing a little green. Others only show green at the base. Others have red shoots breaking from below ground.

Nature is the source of disaster pruning. Too cold weather. Too windy weather. Gale force winds knock over trees. Too cold and too harsh winters create die back in the crowns of trees. Too cold temperatures can wipe away years of growth, or the life of a marginal evergreen. Nature pruning is a rude and sweeping process with no discussion beforehand. As I have said before, nature bats last. Gardeners are left with the ruins.

The plants play a big part in this process. If a plant is threatened, it may signal branches to die back, to insure survival. I have roses, very old roses, whose tops are lifeless. But the activity at the base is thick-extraordinary. Some boxwood will have die back at the tips, but be vital at the interior. Some hollies will shed their leaves from an extreme winter, but will eventually leaf out normally. Some hydrangea hybrids that are marginally hardy will succumb to the worst winter I have ever experienced. That said, the will to survive is the most powerful force I have ever ever experienced.

The will to live enables me to work, even though I am older. I am determined to keep designing, and keep gardening. That will to keep gardening on is about that will to survive. To keep right on living, in a lively way. The will to live inherent in every plant I grow makes my mistakes in their placement or care no more damaging than a mistake. Plants can survive the most difficult siting, the worst drainage, less than perfect light, a terrible winter, an attack from Japanese beetles, a blow from a lightening strike-and still soldier on. My landscape endures without complaint my bad moves, or lack of understanding.

People do the same. They soldier on, in spite of personal issues that prune them to the quick. All of us living beings come with an extraordinary will to live, standard issue. We reinvent a landscape. We rebuild a garden. We re imagine a space. We make a new melody, or tune up. We take a winter pruning to the next level. We replace and replant. None of this is news to you.

Nature saw fit to prune my roses for me. How gracious of her! It will take some time for them to grow out of the winter damage, but I think it is better to prune back rather than replace. There is a big root system underground that is probably just fine. Every day I get a better picture of what will survive, and what will not. And though we have one 80 degree day forecast for this week, we could still have a bout of very cold weather. Pruning is a call to action, a signal to grow. New growth is especially susceptible to damage from cold temperatures.

My Carefree Beauty roses survived the winter without incident. But the incredible weight of snow better than four feet took them over-onto my boxwood hedge. Pruning back the dead branches to an outfacing bud will not solve this problem. How will I address the misfortune visited from one plant onto another? Ask me tomorrow. I do not have an answer today.

I have seen lots of climbing baltic ivy representing that deadly shade of brown. This picture is from my garden. Should I have to prune these vines back to the ground, I will. Lots of plants whose tops cannot handle a vicious winter are still alive at the root. Be sure the stems are dead, before you prune. If the stems scratch green, live with the unsightly mess long enough to see what will re-leaf, and what is lost.

Our spring is so cold, I am still wearing my winter gear. But it my intention to stay in the game, whatever it takes.Watching the maple trees leaf out, the daffodils blooming, the hellebores coming on, the delphiniums a foot tall, the magnolia stellata blooming, the grass greening, the grape hyacinths coming in to bloom-spring is here. Every spring has its particular aura. This spring is very much about that miracle which is the will to live.

I cut a bouquet of daffodils from our garden for Buck. He is not a gardener, but he did like this vase of flowers I put in the kitchen window for him. The cups are a miraculous shade of pale peachy pink. What has survived and is doing well in the garden helps to provide a little balance in a spring sometimes upside down.

Beautiful, aren’t they?

Posted on: May 5, 2014 6 Comments

Filed Under: Spring Tagged With: winter damage on roses, pruning roses

At A Glance: Lots Of Spring Pots

To follow are too many pictures of the spring pots we have planted up at the shop. But too many pictures of plants growing and blooming is just what I need right now. On this 18 foot antique Scottish railway bench, a collection of little mixed spring pots. Ever since the day years ago that I had a 14 year old boy put a ten dollar bill in my hand, and ask me what I would recommend for his gardening Mom for Mother’s Day, I make sure I have an answer.

The loss of the section of boxwood in front of the store is a loss I cannot really explain. Those plants had their roots entwined with a vision for a garden shop imagined 19 years ago. I would have been happy to have those plants there, always. But always is not an adjective one can routinely pair with the work and unexpected trouble that it is to sustain a landscape. Sometimes changes must be made. Though the end of this winter is not what I would have chosen, I have plenty of options to express the beginning of a new gardening season that are charged with life, vigor, and color.

A container planted for spring is all about a new season. Fresh ideas that grow out of old ones. A splash of color so welcome after an interminable winter. Spring is a season which is different every year. Ours so far is wet and cold. But these container plants revel in those transitory conditions. I admire their verve and robust habits. Bring on the spring plants.