why a greenhouse?

I find that I’m ask­ing myself whether I need the green­house any­more. Left over from an obses­sion with warm-growing orchids a cou­ple decades ago, it sits in the mid­dle of some prime real estate in the every-shrinking back yard.

Its cur­rent incar­na­tion is more shed than green­house, with bags of pot­ting mix and pots tak­ing up most of the space. Still I con­tinue to use it for some prop­a­gat­ing. Because of the famous green­house effect tem­per­a­tures inside dur­ing the day­time can climb ten to twenty degrees higher than outdoors–and that’s with heavy shade­cloth on the west­ern expo­sure. Even at night it stays a lit­tle warmer than the out­doors. Before sun­rise dur­ing a cold snap a week and a half ago I looked at the ther­mome­ter inside: 42 degrees. Pretty cold, but it was but four to five degrees higher than a nearby ther­mome­ter outside.

The new patch of let­tuce out­side. Where’s the lettuce?

Here’s a lit­tle recy­cled six­pack that I seeded with let­tuce five days ear­lier. Unlike the bare patch out­side, the seeds are germinating.

The extra warmth can help seeds ger­mi­nate a few days ear­lier than out­doors. And once the plants are up they can grow quite a bit faster. The warm spa tem­per­a­tures inside the green­house, com­bined with some pro­tec­tion from maraud­ing nature, can give you a leg up on the season.

I showed this photo of ger­mi­nat­ing blad­der­pods a cou­ple of weeks ago. These plants are less than two weeks old.

And these are the same blad­der­pods last night, show­ing lots of lux­u­ri­ant growth. I’ll be repot­ting these soon and get­ting them ready for plant­ing in the garden.

If you’re occa­sion­ally impa­tient like me it’s nice to see big­ger plants sooner.

And this last photo shows another advan­tage of the extra warmth. These are year­ling seedlings of the North Amer­i­can pitcher plant, Sar­race­nia. All three pots were started in the green­house a year ago, but the one in the mid­dle spent most of the sum­mer out­side in strong sun­light. These plants are sup­posed to like the intense light, but you can see that they were more par­tial to tem­per­a­tures that reminded them of the South than intense sun. For plants that ordi­nar­ily take five years to mature, it’s look­ing like the extra warmth can take a year or two off of the usual time. It’s cool to have a green­house to save a few weeks but hav­ing it help shave one or two years is pretty persuasive.

So as I talk myself through all this it’s look­ing like I’ll still want to have some sort of green­house, even in South­ern Cal­i­for­nia. But it might not be this really inef­fi­cient and poorly located green­house. And did I men­tion that the cur­rent build­ing has termites?

The replace­ment might be sep­a­rate lit­tle struc­tures. Maybe they could be enclosed carts and have wheels so that they could be repo­si­tioned to take advan­tage of the best sun angles. And if they’re on wheels they could be stuck in a cor­ner of the yard if they’re not being used for prop­a­ga­tion. And some­thing like a cart wouldn’t waste space on aisles to walk down.

Well, there are lots of pos­si­bil­i­ties, and I’ll be think­ing about what to do. I’m one of those peo­ple who likes to stare at a prob­lem for a long time, but maybe in a few months you’ll be read­ing about the next big gar­den con­struc­tion project.

December 12 2010 | Categories: gardeningmy garden | Tags: | 6 Comments »

“plants are up to something”">plants are up to something”

I loved this ban­ner at the Hunt­ing­ton. Hang­ing out­side the instution’s con­ser­va­tory build­ing, it announces that the exhibits inside might be more ori­ented towards edu­ca­tion than the gar­dens that make up the rest of the grounds. The con­ser­va­tory also houses plants that might have spe­cial needs beyond the “just add water” plant­i­ngs located in the sub­trop­ics outdoors.

Pass through the front doors and you step into a green­house space con­tain­ing a minia­ture trop­i­cal rain­for­est, a cloud for­est and a bog gar­den, along with lots of edu­ca­tional signs and inter­ac­tive exhibits scat­tered through­out the space.

For me most green­houses and con­ser­va­tory gar­dens suf­fer from being exam­ples of nature-in-a-can, and to me they tend to look and smell and feel very sim­i­lar in their her­met­i­cally sealed spaces. If only the Hunt­ing­ton were located on some bar­ren snowy tun­dra plain, where enter­ing a trop­i­cal rain­for­est on a cold win­ter day might be a stun­ning revelation.

Even on this cool Decem­ber South­ern Cal­i­for­nia after­noon, the tem­per­a­ture dif­fer­ences between inside and out weren’t that pro­nounced. And the lush plant­i­ngs out­side the front door seemed to mir­ror the lushly planted indoors. Still, lack­ing the stun­ning con­trasts that might help to set the con­ser­va­tory apart from the out­doors, it was a fun place to con­nect with a lot of cool plants. When the Huntington’s giant corpse-flower (Amor­phophal­lus titanum) blooms, there is where you’ll find it. It wasn’t bloom­ing, but there were lots of other inter­est­ing things inside.

The bright red-orange trunks of the sealing-wax palm, Cyr­tosstachys renda were pretty amazing.

My visit was two days before Christ­mas, so there were this hol­i­day dis­play of poin­set­tias and amaryl­lis. At first they seemed like gra­tu­itous hol­i­day dec­o­ra­tions but then the aha moment struck me that these plants orig­i­nate in the trop­i­cal and sub­trop­i­cal belt of the Americas.

Flo­ral parts of a large anthurium species…

This car­niv­o­rous Asian pitcher plant (a species of Nepenthes) greeted vis­i­tors as they entered the cloud for­est display.

And drop­ping down into the bog gar­den, Amer­i­can pitcher plants, Sar­race­nia, and sun­dews, Drosera sp., let view­ers see other ways plants have taken up car­niv­o­rous ways. (Do you detect a theme of the con­ser­va­tory play­ing up the idea of scary, creepy plants, going from these car­niv­o­rous species to the stink­ing giant corpse flower that lines up vis­i­tors by the hun­dreds when it does its thing?)

At this point the blog­ger ram­bles on a bit: These days it almost seems that every botan­i­cal col­lec­tion feels to have its very own giant corpse flower plant that will draw the vis­i­tors when it blooms, some­thing of the way medieval churches tried to draw pil­grims by hav­ing unique relics of saints, or how many tem­ples in Asia will claim to have pre­served hairs of the Bud­dha. So it seems that the giant corpse flow­ers has become a mod­ern sec­u­lar botan­i­cal relic. It’s a lit­tle odd, since you can occa­sion­ally find the plant for sale on eBay–granted for a good chunk of change–but still noth­ing much more than you’d pay for a pair of high-end jeans.

Okay, now back to the trip…

I’m com­ing to the real­iza­tion that green­houses always scare me a bit, like I’m enter­ing a world that’s on per­pet­ual life sup­port. Upon leav­ing the con­ser­va­tory I stepped out­side into the bright Decem­ber after­noon. Not far away a reader was seated in warm­ing sun­light on a Lutyens bench, enjoy­ing the moment. I’d had a good time on my visit to the syn­thetic trop­ics, but return­ing to the real sun­shine and real weather out­doors I sud­denly felt free.

January 04 2010 | Categories: gardeninglandscape designplaces | Tags: | 11 Comments »

in the greenhouse, or, the dictator’s wife

greenhouse-euphorbia-outsideI was in the green­house Fri­day morn­ing, water­ing some pots of seedlings. It seemed funny for a sec­ond, because out­side the green­house it was rain­ing. If I hadn’t gone in there with the hose that morn­ing, the seedlings would have died in the desert for lack of water.

(Left, a Euphor­bia chara­cias ssp. wulfenii out­side the green­house, bloom­ing away in the rain.)

I used to grow and breed pha­laenop­sis orchids in the green­house. It was gonzo amounts of work to keep up with repot­ting hun­dreds of plants. And try­ing to con­coct an envi­ron­ment that would fool the orchids into think­ing that they were in the low­lands of the Philip­pines instead of the flats of South­ern Cal­i­for­nia wasn’t that easy either. In addi­tion to all the work, the green­house was an energy pig, tak­ing as much nat­ural gas to heat as the entire house.

So, end of orchid obses­sion. End of heat­ing the out­doors and wast­ing all that energy. (The New York Times has a recent piece on a cou­ple who decided to build them­selves a green­house. Their heater hasn’t arrived yet, but they’re already way over budget.)

greenhouseinside

Now that the trop­i­cal orchid episode of my life has ended the green­house is only heated by the sun via the green­house effect. At this time of year it’s handy to have a spot that will help give young plants a head start on spring. That’s pretty much how I use the green­house now.

greenhouseclutterAnd, um, yes, for a place to store gar­den clut­ter. Sort of a gar­den shed with windows…

greenhouselookinginFor­tu­nately the win­dows are an opaque fiber­glass, so all the mess inside is obscured. Maybe even a lit­tle mys­te­ri­ous and poetic. Here are some pot­ted plants as seen from the outside.

As I was water­ing the plants in my lit­tle arti­fi­cial out­door desert I thought back to the 1980s. One the sto­ries from the news that has stuck in my brain all these years was a report on Michèle Ben­nett, the wife of Haiti’s dic­ta­tor, Baby Doc Duva­lier. The cou­ple was bad news all around, and one of Michèle’s vices was that she’d refrig­er­ate a part of the palace so that she and her friends could strut about in the fur coats that they col­lected. (Com­pared to her husband’s bru­tal ways, it all seems pretty minor, of course.)

Mink and fox and chin­chilla coats in Haiti. About as ratio­nal as a green­house full of warm trop­i­cal orchids in San Diego, I thought.

I guess we all want a lit­tle of of what doesn’t come eas­ily or nat­u­rally. But in an age of a grow­ing aware­ness of the need to live greener it’s good to stand back and see what we really need.

January 25 2009 | Categories: gardening | Tags: | 5 Comments »

shading a greenhouse

A few years back I wrote an arti­cle for The Grow­ing Edge mag­a­zine on a fun green­house shad­ing sys­tem that I’d devised using ply­wood sheets cut into inter­est­ing shapes. I was traps­ing around Google Books and ended up googling myself. (Admit it, you google your­self too!) What should run across but the arti­cle I wrote, reprinted in a “best of” anthol­ogy. You can click here to see the entire arti­cle reprinted in the book.

The reprinted arti­cle has my shop draw­ings but doesn’t have the pho­tos of the com­plete project. So here’s an idea of what it looked like when I was done:

greenhouseshading.jpg

As a post-postscript to the project, if you do attempt doing this, use wider rab­bets than shown in the arti­cle. It lets you attach the indi­vid­ual shade pieces more securely than I’d shown. Oth­er­wise the pan­els start to fall apart as the pieces swell in response to wet weather–nothing you want to have hap­pen after invest­ing some time in mak­ing your pan­els! As cool as it looked, my under­engi­neered pan­els only last about 3–4 years. Using wider rab­bets and ply­wood thicker than the min­i­mal quarter-inch stuff would have made them last much longer.

March 12 2008 | Categories: my garden | Tags: | No Comments »