Beautiful Pest

Invasive species can be beautiful. One example: the butterfly moth (Paysandisia archon), a stowaway in shipments of palms going from its native Argentina to the European mainland. Now thousands of them are happily devouring palm trees from the inside out all along the Mediterranean. But despite their voracious appetite for trees, they are lovely to draw.

 

Rain on me

Tags

irrigation, sustainability, water

Harvesting rainwater

 I’m not an expert on irrigation, but the cool new rainwater collection system at our local Master Gardeners demonstration plot seems like a no-brainer to me. Worldwide consumption of water is rising fast — twice the rate of the population — but fresh water makes up less than 3 percent of all the planet’s water resources. When a scarce resource falls right out of the sky, it makes sense to harvest it. That’s exactly what the folks at the county demonstration garden are doing.

Fruit trees... demonstrating!

Rainwater can be collected from any relatively clean surface (rooftops and pool covers, for example) and then used for irrigation, flushing the toilet, washing the car,  rinsing garden tools  — just don’t drink it.

The system at the demonstration garden uses rain gutters on a small outbuilding to capture water:

These gutters capture 160 - 240 gallons per 1" rainfall

Even a tiny toolshed can yield a surprisingly large volume of fresh water. According to a formula from the Alabama Cooperative Extension System, a 10 x 10 foot surface collects approximately 50 gallons for every inch of rainfall.  The main tank for the demonstration garden holds 1800 gallons, and it was full:

Next stop after the rooftop: the storage tank

The thick, vertical pipe visible at the corner of the red building is the first flush diverter. It’s a simple device that catches the first flush of water during each rain — the rain that rinses off any dirt, bird droppings, acorns or leaves that might have landed on the roof recently. Once the diverter is full, the remaining water passes over it and runs into the storage tank. See the plug at the bottom of the pipe? That’s where the first flush water can be drained, between rains.

Storage tanks can be made from all kinds of clean containers. .. however,  the Cooperative Extension folks warn that you need to be very careful about what has been previously stored in them. New or never-previously-used fuel tanks, fiberglass containers or septic tanks are what they recommend for larger capacity. There are also polyethylene tanks manufactured for use in the sugar industry, which are cheap to buy and easy to rinse for repurposing as water storage.

Light colored tanks should be painted dark green or black to prevent light penetration. If you bury your storage tank, color doesn’t matter.

Distribution is by gravity or a small pump

(We’re down here in a subtropical climate zone, so temperature extremes are never a problem. But in colder climates, exposed storage tanks would need to be durable enough to tolerate water freezing and thawing during the winter. The recommendation is high-density polyethylene, and a domed top or overflow pipe to allow expansion.)

The demonstration garden slopes gently away from the water containment tank, so gravity alone was enough to provide pressure for drip irrigation. But it’s a big garden, so last week a small electric pump was installed at the base of the storage tank. Now the Master Gardener volunteers can sprinkle, mist and hose to their hearts’ content. If you don’t have electricity in the vicinity of your water storage, a gasoline pump will work.

I’m intrigued. I think a set of rain barrels and some spiffy new catchment gutters on the art studio might be a good fall project. After patiently answering my many questions, the County Extension agent gave me some sources of additional, more detailed information. I’ve listed them below. Happy harvesting!

Virginia Rainwater Harvesting Manual

Rainwater Harvesting

The Texas Manual on Rainwater Harvesting

Harvesting Rainwater for Landscape Use

Three good reasons to brew your coffee at home

Tags

coffee, gardening, green living

Last year, high in the mountains of central Mexico, we saw coffee plants growing wild along the roadside. Looking at the skinny branches loaded with clusters of coffee cherries (the fruit that contains the coffee bean) I thought wistfully how nice it would be to have a homegrown supply of my favorite drink.

After reading that the FDA has recalled seven coffee products sold in the US because they may be contaminated with melamine, that private coffee garden sounds better than ever! In the interest of accuracy, I should point out that the FDA warning is for a line of instant coffee products… not old-fashioned coffee or coffee beans. Whew.

 A more positive reason to brew your own cup of  coffee before leaving home: Good Earth Coffee’s Brew at Home Pledge. I have to admit that I was not initially impressed with this idea — I thought the simplest way to reduce the 28 billion disposable coffee cups thrown away each year would be to take your own mug to the coffee shop. Right? But a little research revealed that about 70 percent of coffee shop customers fail to do that. I know I’m one of those people.

My favorite reason for coffee at home: You can use the leftovers as a deliciously aromatic watercolor. I am always surprised at the differences in the colors different coffees produce… Kenyan is a robust dark brown, while some of the Central American blends are a lovely rusty red.  This coffee angel is painted with three coffee blends (Kenyan, Costa Rican and Hawaiian) and it’s easy to pick out the three separate shades of brown. I simmer a little leftover coffee (1/2 cup is plenty) in a saucepan for five minutes to concentrate the color strength. Then you can use it just like traditional watercolors.

Coffee is the engine that propels us out the door each morning to squeeze in an hour or two of gardening before the workday begins. Today’s task was preparation of the largest bed for the remainder of 54 young broccoli plants. The Perfect Man has finished planting the leaf lettuce. Another week of early mornings, and our winter vegetables will all be under way. This is the nicest season for gardening in the Deep South; already the insect populations are dropping off. With no squash borers or cabbage moths to contend with through the cooler months, gardening life is good.

Cute rodents and crisp romaine

                                                            Alabama Beach Mouse  (c)2008 Val Webb

 

                  Sketch: Delmarva Fox Squirrel (c)2008 Val Webb

 

A few weeks ago, Terry Burger mentioned the dwindling fox squirrel population in his beautifully written — and unfailingly relevant — blog.  I had no idea what a fox squirrel looked like, so I did a little research. Here, I quickly realized, is a furry little creature with a cuteness quotient worthy of a Disney animated feature. Big, bright eyes and chubby cheeks.  An abundantly fluffy tail.  A perpetually cheery and inquisitive facial expression.  I remembered reading that funding for species protection has been found to heavily favor cuteness. Public support is strong for penguins, pandas and koalas… but most people find it difficult to get misty-eyed about critically endangered fish, moths or worms.

Nevertheless, the fox squirrel and the equally appealing Alabama beach mouse have been added to the growing collection of little paintings on postcards I’m creating for an upcoming show. Postcards from the Edge of Extinction will open May 9 at the Mobile Arts Council galleries. 

Last night, we dined on the first salads of spring. The leaf lettuces (buttercrunch, romaine, oak leaf and red oak leaf) are sweet and crisp. They taste like sunlight and promise. We picked the tender side leaves at dusk, after a day of soft rain.  Mmmmmm… eating the first harvest of the spring garden always feels like the height of luxury.

Mardi Garden

Here in the cradle of Mardi Gras, schools and businesses have shut down while the parades roll and the revelers dance in the streets downtown. Warm, damp, windy weather is blowing ashore from the Gulf of Mexico. Suddenly it’s short-sleeve weather again. The garden is calling! We spent all of yesterday turning the patch of soil that will soon be planted with early potatoes, and after hauling and spreading five loads of compost I’m reminded of my unfulfilled resolution to exercise more. Ouch!

     

I’ve completed two more gouache paintings for my show, Postcards from the Edge of Extinction.  Meet the Thick-Billed Parrot (Mexico) and the Splendid Leaf Frog (Central America).  The patterns on the leaf frog’s skin truly ARE splendid… and fun to paint, too.

The Perfect Man gave me an early Valentines Day present this afternoon: a wonderfully intricate Andy English wood engraving, Two Turtle Doves. For Andy’s fascinating step-by-step post on how he created this lovely image — and a photo of the finished print — click here. Prepare to be amazed!

Garden pests, antifreeze and ice cream

Here in the deep South, our pleasantly cool winter weather is punctuated with the occasional three-or-four-day arctic blast of subfreezing temperatures. During these brief periods, much grumbling can be heard throughout the region. We don’t like the cold.

“That freeze last night killed off the rest of my winter vegetables,” we tell our friends at the local feed and seed store, the one place where such garden casualties are treated with sympathy and concern. “But at least the cold will kill off all the bugs.”

Alas, science is rapidly proving that it simply isn’t so. We now know that insect blood contains a protein that works very effectively as a natural antifreeze. The antifreeze protein prevents ice crystals from growing, so the bugs survive frigid weather and are still very much alive (and really, really hungry) when warm days return.

That’s the BAD news. The GOOD news is that the same handy antifreeze proteins are found in some fish blood, and their amazing properties offer hope for future technology that would allow transplant organs to be safely stored at low temperatures. (The antifreeze protein is already being replicated using yeast that contains a fish gene. And, um, guess where it’s being used? Let’s just say, if you’re eating a Breyers Light Double Churned chocolate ice cream bar right now, you might want to go ahead and finish it all up before you read any further…)

Gardeners and journals

Hmmmm…

How to paint (quickly) a rapidly vanishing butterfly

Meet the Bay Checkerspot butterfly, an ethereal creature with wings as richly intricate as tiny little two-inch Persian carpets. Biologists are struggling to save this species, which has fallen victim to nitrogen emissions from automobiles and the nearly complete build-out of its natural habitat in coastal California. I painted this one for my show, Postcards from the Edge of Extinction, which will open May 5 at the Mobile Arts Council gallery. Here’s how to paint a Bay Checkerspot: first, roughly sketch the main shapes in pencil. Then…

…block in the undercolors. I used gouache, an opaque watercolor paint beloved to illustrators because it is nonreflective and reproduces well. White or ivory wings, dark blackish body, and some leaves to provide a place for him to rest.  Next…

…begin developing the details. Paint the outlines of his segmented wing patterns. Add some furriness to his thorax and his plump abdomen. Introduce some shadows along the lower edges of the leaves. Finally…

…work from left to right, using a small sable brush, and add the patterns on the wings. Take time to notice that each fresh row of “checkers” has its own repeated motif. Some look like gothic arches, some like round dots. Comparing the symmetry of the opposing wings will help keep you on track. Each side is a reflection of the opposite wing. I added a halo of soft orange and brown to help blend the whole image together with the old postcard beneath the paint.

(If you liked this step-by-step post, check out my instructions for making your own image transfers.) Enjoy!

P.S. The new year brought the first killing freeze to our Gulf Coast garden. We bid farewell to the broccoli crop and brought in the last of the savoy cabbage for soupmaking. But the collards, which only grow sweeter as the temperature drops, are still big and robust… and the snow peas, as thick and tangled as campaign promises, cover their trellis. Tucked in under a layer of compost, rows of garlic, leeks and onions dream of springtime.