THE END (OF DEER) IS NEAR

            Well, you’ve surprised me again. The page-view statistics on the deer posts—despite all the pictures—are depressingly low. So I’m going to give you the fast take on the rest of the plants deer eat only if desperate, and move on. If the clamor for more illustrated deer-resistant plants becomes unbearable, I may oblige. I'm not, however, holding my breath.

            But first, some breaking news for St. Paddy's Day.

     ·         If you’ve been on an extended trip to Outer Mongolia or the Falkland Islands, you may not have heard that the USDA published its revised cold-hardiness zone map last month. To view it, click on the highlighted text. Take heart, global-warming catastrophists: the US isn’t really all that warmer—this go-round, the boys at Agriculture just crunched twice as many years of temperature data than the mere 15 they used to develop the original map. They included readings from lots more reporting stations as well, resulting in a more accurate picture of average winter temperatures. The map is just a tool anyway, advisory in nature. No one knows better than you what winter is like in your yard.

·      Attention, citizen-astronomers! Globe at Night is running its third observation period of 2012 from March 13^th to the 22^nd. This time, Northern Hemisphere viewers can opt for either Leo or Orion: Sky-Guy recommends looking at Leo for people in dark-sky areas. Bright red star Regulus makes him easy to locate. Making the great lion even easier to spot, Mars is cruising through the constellation this month. So get out there and do your bit to help map global light pollution.

·       The vernal equinox occurs on Tuesday, March 20^th, as the sun passes over the celestial equator from south to north at 1:14 am EDT.

    ·       The World Wildlife Federation is holding its sixth annual Earth Hour, a climate-change awareness vigil, on March 31 beginning at 8:30 pm local time. Originating in Australia in 2006, the idea is shut off your lights and other electricity-sucking devices for at least an hour “…in a collective display of commitment to a better future for the planet,” says the website (linked above). Many places turn the evening into an outdoor, candle-lit social event, to spread awareness of sustainability issues. Personally, I’m dubious about the prospects of people coming together to save the planet; but what harm to savor an almost-April evening outside in the dark?

*****

               Okay, let’s wrap up Bambi.

(Click on these photos to make them larger)

            Deer don’t eat grass. Any grass. This is one characteristic that makes them not-cows. Here’s a picture of an ornamental grasses garden Tim and I designed on the edge of a swamp. It’s full of Leymus, various Miscanthus, Acorus, and Panicum: so full, in fact, that we were able to slip in a few Knock Out roses that the deer, discouraged by all that yucky grass, never ventured in to find. That’s one for our side.


               Following the same path of deception, here’s a planting that surrounds a deer-candy daylily with less-tasty perennials: (clockwise from bottom left) ‘Icicles’ veronica; ‘Blue Midnight’ penstemon, Siberian iris, seashore mallow, butterfly weed, stokes asters, and ‘Pretoria’ canna lily. It’s pretty, and the daylily blooms are shielded from depredations.

       

            Non-starving deer also give palm trees a pass. I have to say I agree with them here: most palms are notoriously difficult to site in non-tropical landscapes so that they don’t jar with everything else. I find most of them rather ugly and/or ungainly, but that’s a topic for another day.

            In fact, most trees hold little attraction as forage for Bambi. Bucks in rut, however, can damage bark or uproot young deciduous specimens as they rub the velvet off their antlers.

Veg garden temptation

      
            The bad news is that, with rare exceptions (rhubarb, for example, or grassy crops like wheat), anything we grow to eat ourselves also pleases deer. Vegetable gardens in areas under pressure from local herds require sturdy fencing and/or continual patrol by large dogs. Another option is to grow edibles in containers in places deer can be excluded from—like hanging baskets or on gated decks.

      

            As my list of deer-resistant plants kept (keeps) growing, I realized that deer-browsed landscapes result from a) a herd that’s out-populated its habitat; and/or b) a serious lack of imagination on the part of the gardener. There’s not much you can do about a), but b) is entirely within your control.

The garden in March

      By way of example, consider the evolution of the property of our friends, Gen and Ed. Gen believes wholeheartedly in co-existing peaceably with nature. Ed believes wholeheartedly in co-existing peaceably with Gen. Their park-like yard includes several deer trails, to which their gnawed original ornamental plantings bore witness. Over the years, however, we’ve worked together to gently encourage Bambi to dine elsewhere. Here is a picture of the garden at one terminus of the trail in March, full of poisonous daffodils, prickly foliaged ‘Baths Pink’ dianthus and other plants safely off deer menus.

Same garden in August

    And here is the same garden in August, home to ornamental grasses, ‘Goldsturm’ black-eyed Susans, Mexican bush sage (Salvia leucantha), coleus, and pentas. The deer just walk on by.

Rock garden

       Here’s the periphery of the same property. The tricky footing caused by the granite rip-rap strewn throughout the garden works with a lovely and low-maintenance planting of ‘Blue Pacific’ juniper, more ‘Baths Pink’ dianthus, coleus, society garlic and yaupon holly to make browsing uncommon.

    We even found a way for Ed to have some of the roses he loves, even though the flowers act like deer magnets: planting standards in pots did the trick.

 

'New Dawn' rose, unchewed

          If you find you can’t live without deer-candy, get around Bambi by growing his favorite noshes out of his reach. I’m training a ‘Zéphrine Drouhin’ rose to swag across our front porch, and jury-rigged a fantastically ugly chicken-wire arch for ‘New Dawn’ to grow over.

'Majestic Beauty' Indian hawthorn

       Plants trained or top-grafted into tree-forms (called “standards” in the trade) are another way to have your deer-cake and Bambi not eat it too. Here is a standardized ‘Majestic Beauty’ Indian hawthorn…

'Tardiva' standard hydrangea

…and a pee-gee ‘Tardiva’ hydrangea growing above the chewing-level of our scrubby little coast deer.

Take that, Bambi!

              Also consider containers hung out of reach, or kept in deer-proof enclosures.

A group of azaleas protected 
by nearly invisible fishing line

         If your yard’s full of hawthorns, pittosporums, euonymus, daylilies, roses, hostas, tulips and Oriental lilies, you can try the standard repellent methods—stinky sprays, grated Irish Spring soap, netting, bags of human hair or garlic-oil "pens" tied to susceptible shrubs, predator-urine stakes and fencing. Tim and I know some folks who mounted motion-activated dog-whistle-like devices in strategic spots around their yard one spring to good initial effect. Alas, the deer took to wearing earplugs or something, because by midsummer the devastation had resumed. You can keep deer out by stringing fishing line from tree to tree—or stake to stake—at chest height (theirs, not yours) around susceptible vignettes. The ultimate deterrent is, of course, a large dog.

"Cool Cola" defending the yard
(thanks to Labrador Retriever Pictures)

All these things work, but each has its trade-offs. Sprays can be expensive and must be reapplied regularly; soap’s cheaper, but you still have to be out there, grating away. Plants grow up through netting, failing to protect the tender new growth deer like best. Bushes festooned with bags of hair are soooo unattractive. Garlic pens and predator-urine stakes need replacing, although you probably won’t notice until the morning after the deer return. Fences work great but are a) expensive, b) ugly, or c) both. The sound devices, powered by four C-cell batteries, need frequent battery checks and replacements, and then the deer become accustomed to the sound anyway. Nearly invisible fishing line can cause tripping, and, in our litigious society, possible lawsuits. For those not inclined toward pet ownership, deer depredations may seem less harrowing than the rigors of life with Fido. 

In the March 2008 issue of The Avant Gardener, editor Thomas Powell wrote of experiments conducted by the USDA National Wildlife Research Center using hydrolyzed milk protein, called casein, to render plants unpalatable to Bambi. Apparently, casein is a common component of baby powder. The down side of this economical deer repellant (there’s always a down side) lies in how it’s applied. You have to mix the powder with some kind of adherent to make it stick to the leaves before spraying it on your plants. The article mentions commercial agricultural latex or—I’m not kidding—Elmer’s Glue-All. The mental picture I get of what baby powder, glue and water look like when applied to foliage is not pretty.

      
          The main goal of all repellents is to induce Bambi to change restaurants. Do keep in mind that hungry deer will eat anything. They also become inured to any one deterrent technique after a while. That’s why Tim and I advocate for planting things deer don’t particularly like in the first place. In the long run, it’s easier. 

 
        Don’t let the bastards get you down. And thanks for dropping by.

                                                            Kathy

P.S.—For the seven readers who found the plants lists mildly interesting, there’s a supplemental post of the entire thing (sans pictures) following this one.

OH, DEER THE FIRST

Bambi & equally destructive friend

            That Bambi is so cute. What kind of monster doesn’t love Bambi?

            Answer: anyone whose landscaping becomes a collection of flower- and foliage-denuded sticks the morning after the Bambster and a herd of his closest friends mosey through.

            In all fairness, it’s not Bambi’s fault. As suburbia expands, humans insert themselves into deer territory without making any accommodation for the original residents. Left to their own devises… (Is it “devises” or “devices”? “Devises” fits the meaning better, but people say “devices.” I switch back and forth. Please advise.) Anyway. Left to cope with this environmental sea-change on their own (how’s that?)—since they aren’t the ones with the bulldozers, the poisons, the dogs and the guns—the deer sensibly adapt. Some move on, the rest move in. And why not? Landscapers seem maddeningly slow to recognize that instead of providing pleasant outdoor spaces for people to live and play, they are actually building bovine buffeterias. (No, deer don’t technically fall into the bovine class, but consider this: cows are ruminants too. I just couldn’t pass up the alliterative opportunity.)

Dwarf Indian hawthorn, a.k.a. deer candy

            When Tim and I started working in St. James Plantation in Southport, NC, 14 years ago, the preferred landscape contractors had a complement of about 20 different shrubs they used. All the damn time. (We got so we could reliably identify one company’s work solely by the presence of star anise—Illicium anisatum—a nondescript sort of shrub whose only advantages are that deer refuse to touch it and you can’t kill it with a backhoe.) About 30% of this meager palette topped the deer-depredation charts: Indian hawthorn, pittosporum, euonymus, aucuba, azalea and camellia. Occasionally, one of the more imaginative designers would toss in some daylilies and/or roses—for dessert, I assume. Other de rigueur deer tempters included hydrangea and loropetalum, whose tender new growth nocturnal grazers simply adore.   

'Happy Returns' daylily, a.k.a. deer candy

            Not that landscapes improved all that much once the deer-light dawned for many of our colleagues: hawthorn and pittosporum were out, aspidistra and ornamental grasses—neither of which contribute to stunning four-season foundation plantings—came in.

            But I digress. Tim and I signed up to speak to the local DAR chapter at their March meeting. I asked the program chair what topic she’d like us to natter on about: Revolutionary-era garden plants still in use today? A riff on colonial potagers? Herbs used as medicines by our forebears? “Any of those would be very nice,” she said. “But what we could really use is a list of deer-proof plants.”

              Oh. Okay. We can do that.

          Brainstorming for an hour one Saturday afternoon (putting off house-cleaning again), the intrepid Fitzes came up with dozens of candidates across the spectrum of annuals, bulbs, perennials, groundcovers, vines, shrubs, trees, herbs and ornamental grasses. Frankly, once we got rolling, we were amazed how many plants met our criteria.

          A caveat before continuing: Nothing—NO THING—is deer-proof. The gentle foragers will eat anything—ANY THING—when facing starvation. Resistance is the best we can hope for. A few winters ago, the ornamental cabbages and kales coloring our clients' containers got nibbled down to nubs, to Tim’s and my utter amazement and dismay. Then there were the full and shapely 25-gallon spiny-foliaged lusterleaf hollies (Ilex latifolia) we planted just before Christmas one year. We returned to the site after New Year’s to find them leafless as far up as our scrubby deer could reach, leaving only ridiculous-looking pom-poms at the tops. (We replaced them with wax myrtles, at appreciable cost to the business.)

            The point is, keep your expectations low and you’ll be fine.

 

            Deer-resistant flora share certain morphological characteristics.

1.     Plants whose sap resembles latex (viscous, white, sticky) reliably repel grazers. Examples include Confederate jasmine, any Euphorbia, alyssums, butterfly weed, many sedums and Sandankwa viburnum (V. suspensum).

Sticky-sapped Confederate jasmine

     Latex-y Euphorbia hybrids

'Ascot Rainbow' & 'Blackbird'

2.    Another resistance trait is strong scent (not necessarily fragrance, mind you). This category encompasses almost all the culinary herbs, marigolds, lantanas, sages, agastaches, alliums, catmints, wax myrtles, pines, cedars and the like. 

Fight 'em with smell--

       'Copper Canyon' marigolds...

...and pineapple & Mexican bush sages

 

3.   Thorns and spines act as deterrents, especially when they poke out of leaves, as they do in a pair of my favorite ornamental solanums, S. pyracanthum and S. naranjilla, a.k.a. bed-of-nails. Pyracantha, barberries, prickly pear—or indeed any cactus—agaves, dasylirions and rugosa roses discourage any outside interference, ruminant or human. (A note of sympathy: regular rose thorns pose no problems Bambi and pals: they just nip off the tasty blooms.)

Bed-of-nails' foliar defenses

             A forbidding line-up

of agave, prickly pear & dasylirion

 

4.    Fuzzy, raspy, fibrous and/or leathery leaves fall low down on the deer hit parade. Think evergreen oaks; many of the little-leaved hollies (Ilex crenata and I. vomitoria) as well as the super-spiny ones, like ‘Carissa’ and ‘Rotunda’; junipers and most other conifers; artemisias and lambs-ears; lantana; mature loropetalum; hollyhocks; leatherleaf and ‘Chindo’ viburnums (V. rhytidophyllum, V. awabuki ‘Chindo’); most succulents; yuccas; and any grass-like plant (although not necessarily the flowers thereof, as daylily lovers learn to their sorrow).

               'Blue Pacific' junipers

 do a number on Bambi's tender mouth

Lambs-ears don't please the palate either

 

5.  Deer have enough smarts to avoid poisonous plants: you should reciprocate by seeking them out—that is, if your pets and children are beyond the put-everything-in-their-mouths phase. Daffodils qualify, as do most ornamental solanums, lantanas, rhubarb foliage, artemisias and oleander. 

...as are oleanders

Daffodils are poisonous in all their parts...

Enough for today. I’ll be posting more (plus many more pictures) on the subject as the week rolls on and our date with the DAR draws nearer.

Thanks for dropping by.

                                                            Kathy

ENTER FIELD NOTES

            Okay, I admit it. I’m frazzled today. Over the past week and a half, both our air-conditioning unit / heat pump and the refrigerator decided 13 years of non-stop service was enough, and expired. I hate shopping in the first place: shopping for appliances vies with shopping for cars in the race for last place on my shopping continuum. (Groceries rank first.) Nonetheless, it had to be done. And was. Fairly painlessly, too, on the whole (if you don’t count the expenditures).  

            But it wasn’t fun.

            Then the weekly paper reported our town government plans to cut water and sewer rates by 4.8% across the board. In the Bizarro-World that is Oak Island, this more than likely means monthly utility bills will hit the stratosphere. Our state-of-the-art sewer system, the previous administration’s edifice complex and an on-going trend for town employees to outnumber non-town employees are going to impoverish all 6200 of us for generations.

            That’s not fun to contemplate, either.

            Then my friend Sally, editor of American Nurseryman, a trade magazine, needed a pinch-hitter for July’s “Field Notes,” so she asked me to help out. “Field Notes” is a regular feature of the magazine, profiling garden-worthy plants. As I covered the living room floor with reference books and dove into my photo files for pictures, Idea-Man Tim says, “You could start a periodic ‘Field Notes’ blog post too. It would be useful, and you won’t have to write two separate pieces this weekend.”

            I can’t tell you how lucky, and how endlessly grateful I am that this man found me, said yes when I asked him to marry me, and hangs in there despite me not being the very easiest person in the whole world to live with. Not only that, he’s brilliant.

            And that is fun.

            So here it is, the inaugural GFTGU Field Notes post. (If you subscribe to American Nurseryman, you can give its “Field Notes” entry for July a pass.)

 

FIELD NOTES

       Lespedeza thunbergii

           
 As a professional gardener, I’m always on the lookout for under-utilized plants to break the ho-hum factor in landscapes. I especially covet ones that flower. Tell me about an under-utilized, flowering and low-maintenance specimen: even better. Toss in a high level of deer resistance, and I’ve hit the jackpot. I’ve found Lespedeza thunbergii.

            That Lespedeza thunbergii—a.k.a. Thunberg bush-clover—belongs to the family Fabaceae is immediately evident. Smooth, blue-green, trifoliate leaves clothe supple branches that arch gracefully earthward. Six-inch-long racemes of pendant pink, rosy purple or white pea-like blooms appear on the upper portions of shoots, combining to form panicles up to 30 inches in length. Here in southeastern North Carolina, flowering begins in late April or early May. After taking a break during the sultriest weeks of high summer—as does anything with any sense—bloom recommences, peaking in September and continuing well into November.

            It’s a mystery to me why such a lovely, easy-care plant isn’t more common in the trade hereabouts. Introduced to Western gardens from China and Japan in 1837, this herbaceous subshrub dies back to the ground after hard frost, even in Zone 8b. Prune the stems down to six inches in late winter, then stand back: bush-clover can reach a height of over six feet and an equal or greater spread in a single season.



Lespedeza thunbergii 'Pink Cascade'

 

In the four years since I started using L. thunbergii in client gardens, I have observed no disease problems despite summertime round-the-clock oppressive heat and humidity levels, nor any pest damage, not even a sample nibble from the deer herds that plague our area. Thriving in full-sun locations, its form is just as lovely in up to half-day shade, but flowering diminishes. Although it shines brightest in moist, rich soils, it performs nearly as well on hot, dry sites. Propagation couldn’t be simpler: whack a couple suckers off the main plant and pot them up. Transplanted seedlings take readily to life in containers as well.

Lespedeza appears to have no pH preference. It grows equally well for me in the basic sand of coastal North Carolina as in the heavy, acid soils of north Georgia. In the fifth edition of his Manual of Woody Landscape Plants, Dr. Michael Dirr describes Thunberg bush-clover as “…really the beauty… of the genus.” (See Good Reads at right. While it's not as thrilling as the latest Caleb Carr, the Manual is a primo reference for tree and shrubs.)   

Two cultivars occasionally come available in the local trade: ‘Pink Cascade,’ with pink flowers and a slightly more compact habit than the species; and ‘Gibraltar,’ with deep rose-hued blooms that Dr. Dirr finds difficult to distinguish from the species. Allegedly, ‘Alba,’ a more upright, white-flowering version, and ‘Variegata,’ with white-streaked foliage and rose-purple blooms, exist out there somewhere.  

In the landscape, Lespedeza thunbergii works as a specimen, in perennial gardens or as part of a shrubbery. I’ve alternated it with pruned Loropetalum chinense var. rubrum ‘Ruby’ to screen a garage, and dotted it along the perimeter of a large corner lot to unify an otherwise eclectic mixed planting. It’s got a beautiful shape, clean blue-green foliage, a long bloom period; it’s low-maintenance, and Bambi doesn’t like it. Who could ask for anything more?



Close-up of Lespedeza thunbergii 'Pink Cascade' flowers and foliage



BOTANICAL NAME:  Lespedeza thunbergii cvv.

COMMON NAME:  Thunberg bush-clover

HARDINESS:  USDA Zones 5/6-11

MATURE HEIGHT:  5-6’

MATURE SPREAD:  to 10’

CLASSIFICATION:  Herbaceous subshrub

LANDSCAPE USE:  Specimen, perennial gardens, mixed shrubberies

ORNAMENTAL CHARACTERISTICS:  Smooth, trifoliate blue-green foliage; 6” racemes of pink, rose-purple or white flowers form panicles up to 30” long; graceful, arching habit; ease of maintenance; highly resistant to deer browse

*****

            There. Lespedeza’s one of my all-time favorite plants for all of the reasons listed above. If you simply must have one for your yard and live near Oak Island, Tim and I have nine healthy one-gallon starts available for seven bucks a pop. Contact me by email, or ask about them in the comments section. (As if.) Transplanted Garden on 16^th Street in Wilmington also carries Lespedeza, probably three-gallon ones, but I’m not positive they’re L. thunbergii.  

            Thanks for dropping by. I’m sure I’ll be feeling better by next time.

                                                                                                Kathy