Fruits and flowers are important food sources:  flowers provide pollen and nectar for insects and hummingbirds and fruits feed a wide range of animals.

The Cascade or Coast Penstemon (Penstemon serrulatus) blooms all summer with a profusion of purple flowers.  It gets 2-3’ tall and wide, thrives in the sun and seeds itself readily.

In his informative book, Landscaping for Wildlife in the Pacific Northwest, Russell Link says about Penstemons,:  “The flowers attract hummingbirds, bumblebees, night-flying moths, and butterflies including swallowtails, common wood nymphs, and Lorquin’s admirals.”

Cascade Penstemon is showy, valuable for wildlife, and easy to grow.  What’s not to like?  Well…one thing.  The flowers are, uh, stinky.  So grow it, just not by the front door.

Tall Oregon Grape (Mahonia aquifolium), another valuable wildlife plant, is a narrow evergreen shrub with holly-like leaves.  It gets 6-8’ tall and slowly spreads by rhizomes.  It thrives best in well-drained soil in the sun though it tolerates shade also (but will be lanky in the shade).   Both its yellow flowers and pretty clusters of blue fruit are valuable to wildlife (and edible for humans).

Some of Tall Oregon Grape’s specific wildlife benefits, according to Link:  “The berries are eaten by many birds, including grouse, pheasants, robins, waxwings, juncos, sparrows, and towhees.  Foxes, raccoons, and coyotes also eat the berries.  Deer and elk will occasionally browse the leaves and flowers.  Orchard mason bees and painted lady butterflies use the nectar.”

One of the Grand Firs (Abies Grandis) gave a speech:  “It’s time to take a stand! Haven’t we been downsized enough?  Our hard-working limbs, leaves and roots disrespected enough?”

The Large-Flower Fairybells (Prosartes smithii) straightened their curving stems a bit and waved their creamy yellow flowers. 

Grand Fir continued.  “Those humans have contracted out most of our work!  They dig pits to replace whole ecosystems and claim they will keep the water clean.  Are they doing the job RIGHT?”  Grand Fir paused for a moment to curl a branch into a full-on sneer.  “NO-O-O-O!  How can a hole in the ground do YOUR jobs of cushioning the earth from pelting raindrops and rushing, polluted runoff?  How can a gutter or a storm drain provide a home for a Junco or a Tree Frog?”

At this point, the demonstration took on a surprising degree of diversity.  Scolding noises came from the trees.  A tree frog croaked and the newly-hatched tadpoles in the kiddy pools waggled their tails.  And the little pots of mosses, carrying signs that said “Cushioning is our job!” and “Moss-Out Kills!” and “Solidarity with Peat!” stumped out to the driveway and staged a Moss-In.  The moss on the branches of the tall Douglas Firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii) overhead went wild, throwing lichen bits and hollering.

Grand Fir, encouraged, worked herself up a little more.  “Do they think that LAWNS or poodle-puff-who-knows-what-they-are-supposed-to-be shrubs will really give them what they need?  They need life!  And they get that from us!  WE are the 99%!  Just try to imagine how many plants it takes to keep one of those too-smart-for-their-own-good primates alive?”

“I know, I know!” squeaked a plump baby Vine Maple (Acer circinatum) in a 1-gallon pot, flapping its new, still-soft leaves. 

Grand Fir ignored him.  “Let me tell YOU!  There’s a big debt outstanding to Mother Nature!  It’s high time humans stop taking it out of OUR cambiums!”

The Red-Flowering Currants (Ribes sanguineum) began swaying back and forth, making a deep rumbling (which surprised me, since they are only a foot tall):  “No more bailouts!  No more bailouts!”

Grand Fir raised a limb to silence the somewhat off-topic Currants.  “It’s high time they APPRECIATED us!”

I’ve been hearing this kind of talk all week, and frankly, I have had enough.  Time for these plants to march on out of here.  Time for you to give them gainful employment in your yard, doing water quality protection, habitat support and general environmental cleanup.  And allow them to reclaim some space for Mother Nature.

Don’t be afraid to come—these highly qualified job candidates will welcome your support.  And I will make them put away their signs.

“I could live on these,” I thought.  On tiny bright portions of light and water.

Days later, taxes turned in, stress level ratcheted down a few notches (now accepting recommendations for small-business accountants), I realize that I DO live on light and water.  Money is nothing but a disturbing societal invention.  I just need a new business plan.  It is light and water that power me through each day.  The nursery’s plants exist and grow because of light and water.

Light and water have filled the nursery with plants reaching out for more!  The Foamflower (Tiarella trifoliata) has woken up.  Hunkered down flat all winter under the shelter of a big Dougals Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), bright three-part leaves stretch up to the spring light.  They will bloom all summer, small plumes lifting up to two feet tall, above the foliage.  The clusters of tiny flowers are white.  Did you know that white encompasses all the colors of the spectrum?  (more on Foamflower)

The Grand Fir (Abies grandis) is responding well to light and water (and weeding, and chip-hauling…).  They have a respectable three-foot start on their future lives as elegant tall members of the ecological community.  If you have a well-drained site, you may consider this evergreen tree.  It will host plenty of life in its beautiful canopy of shiny dark-green needles – and shade the Foamflower.

Living on tiny bright portions (cash helps too)…

 Chorus Frogs live in shady forest during the year and only come to lakes and ponds to breed.  The tadpoles are tiny—about ½” long—and will metamorphose into tiny frogs by fall if their pond is warm and sunny enough.  I’m afraid we may have had some casualties last fall; there were still tadpoles in the pools in October.  Maybe we’ll have a warmer spring this year, though it sure has been chilly so far!

 Even though I found myself driving through a snowstorm yesterday, I’m seeing new life and activity in and around the nursery.  I spotted a rusty-striped Garter Snake sunning—yes, SUNNING—itself on top of some sticks yesterday.  A pair of Bald Eagles is hanging out by the lake.  I got a good look at one flying a couple of days ago, and yesterday a patch of bright white—the eagle’s head–gave away the raptor’s location, a perch in a distant White Pine (Pinus monticola).

 My sister found the head—just the head—of a female Mallard Duck on the dock.  Perhaps the eagle was the guilty party.  Yuck.  Ah, well, Circle of Life, eat-and-be-eaten, Death into Life.  Who are we trying to kid?  We’re all subject to the laws of nature, whether we are a cute ducky or a businessman in a BMW.

 I’d rather talk about the Bumblebees and Rufous Hummingbird nursing the blossoms of the big Red-Flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum), the pretty new growth on the Cascade Penstemons (Penstemon serrulatus), the bright yellow-green sprouts emerging from the formerly dead-looking Goatsbeard (Aruncus dioicus) pots and preparing for their annual outrageous growth spurt.  And FINALLY the Oak Fern (Gymnocarpium dryopteris) is showing some life—a few miniscule nano-fronds curling up from the dirt.  I can hardly wait until they are a frilly carpet of brilliant green.

 Come hunt some (frog) eggs and garter snakes, see if you can spot the Oak Fern fronds, get buzzed by Rufus the Hummingbird, listen for the crows announcing the eagle’s arrival. And whether celebrating Resurrection, Fertility Goddesses or just a great Spring Weekend, we’ll all be celebrating New Life.

 To Life!

I promise to bring some great natives.  I WISH I could promise sunshine…

“The quawmash is now in sprowte in the Green House… compassed about with Puddles of raine water.”  -Shirley Doolittle-Egerdahl, March 2012, Tadpole Haven Native Plants

Camas stands for balance, in my mind.  The Native Americans in the Pacific Northwest relied on Camas bulbs (“quawmash”) as an important starchy component of their diet.  Camas grows in moist parts of open grassy prairies.  In Western Washington, the Native Americans used fire to keep the camas prairies free of Douglas Firs.  In this way, they actively practiced agriculture, but in a way that was in balance with the ecology. 

Oak trees would survive the periodic burning, and indeed, the burning stimulated oak seeds to germinate.  Most of the Puget Sound region’s prairies are in Pierce and Thurston counties, where you can still see our native oak – Garry Oak or Oregon White Oak (Quercus garryana).  But after Indian burning ceased in the mid-1800s, the Douglas Fir forest encroached.  Then of course came settlers with their brand of agriculture.  Now much of the camas prairie-cum-farmland is invaded by roads and driveways, lawns and houses planted by by suburban “settlers”.  Untended remnants of prairie often become overrun by Spanish and Scot’s Broom.  There are efforts to save large prairie areas and some controlled burning has been used.  The Mima Mounds or the Scatter Creek Wildlife Area are good places to see prairies, a.k.a. oak savannahs.  The Washington Native Plant Society has focused on Garry Oak Ecosystems (which include prairies) as a conservation priority.

West of the Cascades, we have two native blue-flowered Camas species, Common Camas (Camassia quamash) and Great Camas (Camassia leichtlinii).  Both of them do well in soil that holds winter moisture – they can be completely inundated — but dries out in the summer.  They readily re-seed themselves, but it is easy to unwittingly weed out their seedlings, which resemble blades of grass.

*June 12, 1806 http://www.infoplease.com/t/hist/lewis-clark-journal/day760.html#ixzz1p761P23O

Erosion!  This insidious evil claws away precious soil
and fouls streams and rivers.  Native
plants drive a silver stake through the heart of erosion, stabilizing slippery
slopes with their roots.  Sword Fern’s
fibrous roots are especially protective of soil, and its evergreen fronds break
the force of a hard rainfall, allowing water to gently soak in.

Extinction!  Manufactured by the Frankensteinian ill of
blind progress, extinction overtakes poor creatures displaced by human
activity.  In our area, we have nearly
extirpated the Western Pond Turtle and the Western Toad.  Development has destroyed their
habitats.  Native plants are probably the
best way to re-create homes for sensitive species like Red-legged Frogs.  Native plants help filter runoff water,
keeping streams and rivers pure for salmon and freshwater mussels.  Ultimately, the species you save may be your
own.

Existential
angst!  This psychological Jack-the-Ripper tears at
our souls and hinders our ability to enjoy life.  Counter it with ample treats from
nature.  Give yourself some time with –
what else? – native plants!  The other
day at Tadpole Haven, a customer found a pocket wilderness in one pot: a Red
Huckleberry was growing with Small-Flowered Wood Rush and mosses.  All she had to do was put her face up to the
little scene to immediately get a soothing dose of nature.  Soothe your soul.  Fight the darkness with the help of
nature-spaces.

Climate
Change!  This monster stalks the earth, creeping up
slowly, chuckling at our casual, inertia-bound attempts to wake ourselves into
action.  All over the globe, loss of
forest cover and “biomass” has fed the monster.
One solution to corralling the beast:
Plant and protect native trees!
Carbon-absorbing, water-holding forests.
Even enlarging patchy back-yard suburban and urban forests contributes.

Climate change used to be
less well understood.  Back in the 70s or
80s, we feared “Greenhouse Warming”.  But
last Saturday, that term had a positive meaning:  We celebrated a Greenhouse-warming for Tadpole Haven’s newly completed
greenhouse!  Shirley made brownies.  That’s scary.

Our home is in the
bustling heart of that megalopolis, Carnation, a 15-mile commute from the
nursery, where tree frog tadpoles in the kiddy pools are getting ready to turn
into frogs.  The voice of the frog at
home reminds me that I haven’t checked on the tadpoles for a few weeks.  Have they already metamorphosed and hopped
away?  I’ve been too preoccupied, doing
my modern human stress-out scramble thing, to pay attention to these creatures
undergoing this wondrous transformation, a once-in-a-lifetime event!  Just think what it would be like if your
whole life was in a bright blue kiddy pool, with some algae to nibble and some
rushes and water parsley and marsh cinquefoil to hide among.  And the one day, everything changes.  These little feet that have been growing
handily enable you to crawl up on a reed, into Another World.  The sky IS the limit!  The whole earth is before you.  It’s a little scary, though.  Danger lurks everywhere.  The garter snakes that hide under the flap of
black plastic are on the lookout for tasty green snacks.  Hiding is an important ability for a tree frog.

Our yard is over a
quarter of a mile from the pond our resident frog must have started out in.  That’s a lot of earth that little frog has
seen!  And it seems to have settled in; Brian
has planted lots of native plants for it to hide among.  Brian owns a landscaping business, Biosphere
Company, and especially enjoys working for clients who use his knowledge of how
to create a welcoming environment for frogs, birds and all sorts of insects. He
puts that know-how to work at our house.
By design, not laziness (!), the Sword Ferns wear a skirt made of a few
years worth of old fronds.  That is a
good spot for frogs and salamanders to keep cool in summer and warm in
winter.  The Redwood Sorrel in the shade
of the three Western Redcedars grows thick and is good cover for a little tree
frog.  In the sunnier part of the yard, shrubs
like Mock Orange, Tall Oregon Grape and American Cranberrybush provide protection
from predators, especially since they are surrounded by native perennials –
Penstemons, Western Bergamot, Western Columbine and Henderson’s Checkermallow.  We have an amazing amount of beautiful diversity
around our house.  No wonder that
invisible little frog is happy here!

While the humans are desperately squeezing in their last barbeques and summer brews, and breaking open their last MSG-laden chips, the squirrels are thinking long-term, stocking up on healthy snacks, nipping off Douglas Fir and Western Redcedar cones from high in the tree canopy.  Other animals are fattening up for winter.  The deer finally discovered Tadpole Haven’s smorgasbord of shrubs.  They have enjoyed the lush, well-watered nursery plants, preferring them over the less pampered shrubs in the woods.  While deer enjoy “pruning” juicy leaves and twigs (thanks for the help, guys), many other critters favor berries.  This summer brought a terrific harvest of Red Huckleberry.  PJ the Springer Spaniel demonstrates the coyote technique, deftly nibbling low-hanging huckleberries, Salal and blackberries.

I have also been collecting — and planting — seeds. I spent a few hot afternoons recently grappling berries from Bitter Cherry and Cascara trees.  I had these berries and several other bags of various seeds in the potting shelter for several days while I worked on getting them planted.  Each evening, the thought flitted through my mind that if I don’t put them inside, perhaps some little (or maybe not-so-little) critter might get into them.  Aw, what’re the chances?  Neatness is such a hassle! One morning, I arrived to find the garbage can upended (SOMEONE had left food garbage in it) and some of my bags of seeds tipped over.  The fruit-muncher had nuzzled through the Oregon Grapes, but was really after black gold – cascara berries – and had gobbled most of my take!  Sometime during the day, a large black seed-laden pile of poop appeared in the driveway, confirming that not only was our nighttime visitor a bear, it had been in the woods next to the nursery as we worked there during the day!

I feel a bit guilty; I’ve committed the sin of tempting a bear to lose its fear of people, an attitude that gets bears into big trouble.  So now, I am belatedly stashing all temptations away each night. This episode with the Cascara berries shows Cascara’s value as a wildlife plant.  This small tree is popular with dozens of species: mammals (large and small), birds and insects.  I have lots of beautiful little Cascaras (Rhamnus purshiana) in the nursery (the deer snubbed them!), waiting to become part of your backyard wildlife habitat. It may have been a marketing blunder to mention “cascara” and “bear” in the same sentence.  But there is no need to run screaming from native plants just because some little old bear might some night wander through.  Just respect their wildness and don’t tempt them with attractive morsels left out at night, such as unburied food garbage or bite-size pets.

The deer and bear visits remind me of the great need for habitat replacement all over the Puget Sound area.  Wildlife needs wild space.  Pockets of habitat serve small creatures and many species of birds; that’s easy to create even in a small city yard.  But contiguous natural areas are extremely important for all wildlife. Anything you can do to help creatures large and small find refuge, food or safe travel space in your yard, local park or open space, helps.

Planting natives is a start.  Thoughtful community planning with input from citizens is important. How can you help wildlife in your eighborhood?  How can you help your community work through the knotty issues that too often pit humans against other creatures?

Time to put away the corn chips, pack in the barbeque (and clean up its tempting drippings!) and come out of your late-summer fog.  Make some plans and get to work!

But the plants in the nursery and along the local trails noticed Spring – they have been growing like crazy! It’s a jungle out there!

It is gratifying to see the fruits of our labors in the nursery. Many of the plants that we potted during the Winter are rooted-in and ready for homes. Plants that we fertilized are looking terrific. We mainly use Walt’s Organic Fertilizer products. Great stuff! Check out their shop in Seattle, almost under the Ballard Bridge. They carry a wide variety of organic soil amendments PLUS native plants (great in-town source for Tadpole Haven plants), vegetable starts, seeds and books.

A few of the plants that showcase the fruits of our labors are Snowberry (Symphoricarpos albus), Thimbleberry (Rubus parviflorus) and Cascade Oregon Grape (Mahonia nervosa). All three are fruit-bearing shrubs, though it’s still too early in the season for their berries. All three form thickets. The Oregon Grape will take several years to do so, eventually forming an evergreen ground-cover layer 2-3 feet tall. Snowberry and Thimbleberry, both deciduous shrubs, spread quickly and generally range in height from 4-6 feet. Their quick thicket-forming talents make them very good at stabilizing soil on slopes and providing cover for birds and other wildlife, but less good at behaving themselves in a small garden.

Thimbleberry has big, soft, maple-like leaves; attractive white flowers (~1 1/2″ across) and tasty berries for people and other creatures. It thrives where it can get lots of light, but not a lot of intense sun.

Snowberry’s tiny pink flowers give way to pretty white berries that will often last all winter. The berries are inedible for humans; and birds prefer other berries, but will eat them when other food sources run short in winter. It will grow in shady areas (even fairly dry shade), but also does great out in the sun. I have seen it in wet places and dry places – definitely versatile.

Cascade Oregon Grape’s stalks of yellow flowers attract butterflies. The tart berries are perfectly edible and are eaten by many species of birds. It is at home in full shade to mostly sun, though in a sunny spot it may need to be watered for the first few summers. In a sunny place, its leaves sometimes turn dark red. It is a perfect choice for dry shade, along with its natural companions, Salal (Gaultheria shallon) and Sword Fern (Polystichum munitum).