I STUCK MY FOOT IN A GARDEN - and a present

I'm not a gardener. And this blog is mainly for hedgerow plants (with a bit of seaweed thrown in).

HOWEVER . . . when I went out with my camera to advertise the up-coming stuck-foot post . .  the wind was blowing and everything was waggling about: branches, leaves, grass - and me!

I'd taken only about fifteen steps before I gave up and scurried home.

So I borrowed a garden and stuck my foot there - there where walls gave some protection from the wind.

Then I plonked myself in the only available pool of sunlight and set myself to see what I could see.

I saw beautiful red cotoneaster leaves on the branches of a bush that had been grown as a standard.

I saw beautiful red cotoneaster berries in an empty terracotta flower pot.

I saw a red chrysalis (or something along those lines) in the pot-bound roots of a box bush stood in water before being untangled. And I saw a ripple of light in the water.

I saw heart shaped leaves and dead leaves.

And I saw an old vine branch with the dried out twiddly bit that would have fixed it to something if it had found something to fix itself to.

And all this time - I didn't move a foot. Not the slightest slither. A stuck foot post.

This is the idea.

There's more about it on the Stuck Foot Post Page.

Are you a Stuck Footer? If so - there will be a link box for Stuck Foot Posts on next week's Loose and Leafy. (21st - 25th January 2015)

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And now for the present. Well, it's not exactly a present. It's a 'You can have this book if you review it on your blog' situation.

Featuring over 1,000 plants
RHS Companion to Scented Plants 
is an authoritative guide
to creating beautiful,
well designed gardens
that are highly scented,
and shows how scent can turn
a good-looking garden
into an unforgettable one.
Price - £25
(But your's will be a present
if you'll review it for me
'cos you are a gardener.)

It's the Royal Horticultural Society's 'Companion to Scented Plants'. It arrived before Christmas and I really have been too busy to give it proper attention. Do you have time to give it yours?

I also have a problem with this book. It's probably to do with not being a gardener. It's ever so thick. (And heavy!) It has masses of pictures and loads of information. There are chapters about

Planning Your Garden

Planting With Trees and Shrubs

Walls and Vertical Planting

Roses

Herb Gardens . . .

those sorts of things.

And each chapter has a list of plants with descriptions.

Which is all good.

So what's my problem? I like honeysuckle to be called 'Honeysuckle' and have 'Lonicera' in brackets. I like jasmine to be called Jasmine and hyssop to be under 'Hyssop' not 'Hyssopus'. I'm a heathen. A barbarian. A street urchin. Latin is useful. Latin is important. Latin should be there. But me? If I see Latin coming first my prejudices run riot and I get cross. Which is not fair to the book.

So . . .

as many of you are gardeners, there's bound to be one who can give this book its proper credit. Volunteer to review it by saying so in the comments (by the end of February) and I'll pick a person at random and post it to you. How's that?
(I'm really sorry but the offer has to apply to Europe only - (including whatever we're called - UK? GB? something along those lines!) - postage costs!)

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A BEWILDERMENT IN (at least) TWO PARTS

The ivy I'm examining is on this old elderberry tree.
We could equally well be examining the lichen on it or the insects boring holes in the trunk.

Remember I'm always saying I don't know anything? It's (almost) true. But there's a possibility (maybe a niggling hope) that one day I'll learn. I don't mind this much. Indeed I revel in it. One can get bogged down in facts.

I'm grateful that those who make medicines or collect mushrooms know what's what. I would never try either. The pleasure of ignorance has its limits! I buy veg. from an organic veg. supplier (you can see their emblem in the side-bar) and the only medicine I'm ever likely to concoct is honey with lemon to sooth sore throats. (Not that this works. Sugar makes me cough.)

Here you can see the little roots which attach ivy stems to trees.

This not-knowing is fine. It's what this blog is based on - the joy of looking, the joy of awe.

BUT I find it really frustrating is when I know I CAN'T understand something however hard I try. When it's as far beyond me as any of the subjects I failed at at school. A mystery that slips through my fingers. I look around and see others busily solving the problem but I don't know where to start. The issue is a sort of blob with no obvious entry point.

Here you can see the marks ivy roots have made in the wood of the elderberry before being
pulled away.

I've spent a ridiculous amount of time peering into flowers trying to see how they change into fruit or seeds. The theory is ok - mixture of pollens. But then what happens?

And if the flower doesn't look like a flower?

Ivy flowers don't look like flowers. They look like clusters of berries. If proper botanists are jumping up and down saying 'of course they look like flowers!' - I'm not the only one who's puzzled. Of those who've stopped to ask what I'm taking photos of not one person yet has realised ivy even has flowers, let alone that ivy flowers in autumn. And because ivy only flowers when it's a mature plant and on the sunny side of it and when the ivy leaves no longer look like ivy leaves . . . sometimes one has to start by persuading them it is it really is ivy we're looking at.

A ball shaped cluster of ivy flower buds just beginning to open.
I promise you that when they do they won't look ordinary flowers.

Ivy flowers are grouped in balls.
I think the little yellow blobs are anthers
emerging from the flower before the (green)
petals open.
(It's only because I've already seen what happens next
that I can say this.)

The language we use about flowers sometimes bewilders me; at times it gives the impression that plants make conscious decisions about their appearance.

'Plants use their bright petals to attract insects. 

'Ivy doesn't need brightly coloured petals to attract insects because it's one of the few plants flowering in autumn when there's little competition for the attention of pollinating insects.'

All very well. But where are its petals?

(I plan to show you where they are next time.)

This year, I think I'm getting a bit further with seeing what's what but there are loads of things I still haven't grasped yet. Can you help me?

1. What does it mean that mature ivy is free standing and doesn't have roots'?

The Natural History Museum site says about ivy

'When the plant reaches maturity it produces rootless, self-supporting stems with unlobed leaves.'

Do I dare find a remote tree with ivy and dig it up (the ivy that is!) when no-one's looking to find out what's happening under ground?

Maybe you have some ivy you don't mind tearing out? (Not pulling down but pulling up.) Then you could tell us what you see . . . ? Please?

2. How does pollination in one place cause fruit in another?

Here's my problem.

Flowers have stamens (little sticks poking up from the flower) and on the end of the stamens are little blobs (anthers) and on the anthers there's pollen (which looks like coloured dust). When the pollen is moved from one anther to another (sometimes on the same plant, sometimes from a different one) it fertilises the flower and it produces fruit. But how? The fertilisation happens on the end of the stamens. You don't get fruits there - you get them lower down where the petals are joined onto the stems. (If they have stems - dum-de-dum!) So how can that be? Fertilisation in one place. Fruit in another.

3. Does Ivy need insects to bring pollen from other ivy plants in order to produce fruit or does it work equally well with all the pollen coming from the same plant?

There's no way I'll be able to tell simply by observing. I need someone to tell me.

_____

It's going to take several posts to get to grips with all this. My observations and your input may mean that what I tell you as wobbly 'facts' may have to be changed as we go along.

Help me out folks? Please look at your ivy. Botanists - tell me (please) when I'm wrong - and the answers to things no-one could know without a microscope. (Anyone got a microscope?)

Already the flowers have changed since I took the pictures for this post. Already I'm accumulating photographs of the insects drawn to their pollen. It'll be a marathon catch up when we get to it.

If you are in the UK - find an ivy plant in flower and walk up close. There are likely to be masses of interesting flies hanging out there at present. Hoverflies are my favourite but there are likely to be loads of others too.

If you are outside the UK - do you have this kind of ivy (Hedera helix) where you live?

(Not 'Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans) - that's different.)

* * *

Readers Coming to the Rescue!

Wa -hey! This is brilliant. On her blog 'Close to Home' Jane Strong has written a post about ivy in response to these very questions! 'Ivy for Lucy'. Thanks Jane. Much appreciated.

Hollis explains flower fertilisation thus:
'Fertilization requires that pollen be transferred to the FEMALE organ, the pistil (not to another anther). Hopefully it ends up on a stigma and then a pollen tube grows down to the ovary where the ovules reside; fertilization takes place if all goes well. That's the basic story but of course it's a bit more complicated -- more here:
Fertilisation in Plants (Wikipedia)'

Here's what Amanda says:

'Hi Loose have been having a go at answering your questions, there seems to be two camps on Ivy.. Pull it down or save it for the bees. 

Ivy can take many years to mature but when it dose it shifts to forming mature branches that produce fruit. There are two types of roots, vine roots when they touch the ground they grow in to the ground ( could this be the bare roots you mention) and aerial roots that help it climb "trees".
Have found this post on Pollination which is a good read.
http://aob.oxfordjournals.org/content/104/7/1397
and this paper as well.

Pollinator Effectiveness and Fruit set in Common Ivy (Hedera helix (Araliaceae)Hope these help a little.

* * *

You might also like to read the post about ivy on 'Urban Pollinators'.

* * *

It's TREE FOLLOWING in less than a week (7th November) so the next ivy post will be after that.

> > > > > > >

TREE FOLLOWING LINK BOX ON THE 7th NOVEMBER - TREE FOLLOWING LINK BOX ON THE 7th NOVEMBER - TREE FOLLOWING LINK BOX ON THE 7th NOVEMBER - TREE FOLLOWING LINK BOX ON THE 7th NOVEMBER

P.S. Photographs on this blog were taken on the 24th and the 28th of October 2014.

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SLICING THE TREE - TREE FOLLOWING FOR AUGUST

Across the road from the tree I'm following there's a diminishing number of similar ones. One by one they are being felled. It's been going on for a while and I thought I knew which would be the next to go. Its needles are brown on the tree.

I was wrong. Another has gone. Given that all the the trees in the group are a bit tatty it's clear they will all be cut down in the end. But the latest to vanish seemed the healthiest of the lot. I've photographed it more than the others. I'd thought it would outlast the one I'm following.

You know the resin that weeps in golden droplets from the trunk and collects in lumps and hardens and solidifies white and brown - like an unsightly lava flow that's been brought to a cold stop? I've found out what it does to the inside of the tree.

Here is the edge of the stump of the recently chopped tree - a tree of the same kind as the one we're following. On the right is the remains of an ivy which was almost part of the tree. It's about three inches across. On the left is the red wood of the felled tree. In between . . . grey and white. This seems to be an internal collection of resin. It's hard. If you came across it away from the tree you might, at first, think the white is some kind of quartz. Maybe this internal bleeding and setting is what's killing the trees? The work of the bark is being interrupted. Does anyone know?

Back to the individual we are following. Needles are collecting in the fork of the trunk.

A cone has fallen to ground and broken open.

The grass has been cut. The plants which grew in it have gone. We've had little rain. There was an outburst for a couple of hours a few days ago but it's done little or nothing to dampen the ground under the tree.

Its exposed root stays bare.

What a brown post!

One little bramble is all that grows.

I'm Following A Tree
Are you?
For more information
click
HERE
#treefollowing

I hope your trees show a little more green!

The Link Box for Tree Following Posts

Opens at 7am UK time on 7th August

and will close at 7pm on the 14th

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TREE FOLLOWING - I'VE FOUND MY TREE

Only after taking this picture of the tree did I realise how close
its silhouette is to the Tree Following emblem.

The morning was sunny. I set out to photograph my tree. I arrived. The sky had clouded over. The world was in black and white. Ok. We'll go with this. We'll have a proper silhouette.

I've chosen my tree with my heart rather than my head. I don't know what kind of tree it is. I can't reach its branches. I can't reach its needles. There's no interesting undergrowth around it. It's not in a photogenic location. I can't remember any bird sitting in it. It's falling to bits. It may have to be felled before the end of the year.

It may have to be felled . . . that clinches it. This may be the last chance we'll have to get to know it. There are many of the same in the area. I'd guess they were planted at roughly the same time. They are in parks and in gardens. This one is on a patch of grass in front of a block of flats.

Many near it have already been chopped down. Their branches die and have to be lopped. Eventually there will be none left. Indeed, I reported this tree myself a few years ago when a large branch broke away after a high wind. It didn't fall; it dangled. It could have landed on something. When tree surgeons arrived I was worried they might take out the whole tree. They didn't. (As you can see!)

It's a kind of pine (I think). When you look up into its remaining branches you can see its cones. They are about six inches long, heavy and very dense. A friend has tried to grow a new tree from the seeds of several - never with success.

The needles are long too (about four inches) and grow in bunches. The bark is chunky, irregular and layered. When dry it's grey. When wet its colour is richer - with tints of conkers. There are webs in its fractures - so there must be spiders. It weeps resin.

See the fallen needles leaning against the bark on the left of the picture?
The plant about to flower is Chickweed (Stellaria media)

Above ground, the trunk is supported by what I think of as toes. Alongside them and around the tree there are plants. I hadn't expected plants. I'd expected sparse grass. There were docks and daisies, plantain and chickweed.

Roots have broken the surface.






Although you may not be conscious of it, what you hear when you visit a tree will influence how you relate to it. Trees inspire emotions and emotions are inspired by sound as much as by sight. The only means I have to record sound for the blog is by taking a video. So that's what I've done. It's not exactly action packed but it gives the tree a context; there's a car, a crow, voices, gulls.

Here it is on YouTube - Click!

It's surprising how many plants grow around
the tree despite the spread of its branches.
Daisy (Bellis perennis)

All I need to know now is what kind of tree it is. For the moment, I'm calling it Freda. I don't know why it looks like a Freda. It just does. So, having decided on its name I set out (irrelevantly, I admit!) to find out what 'Freda' means. Maybe 'peaceful ruler' or 'elf-strength' say the baby-name sites. (I'm not always sure whether these meanings are real or made up and my knowledge of mediaeval saxon doesn't exist - does anyone know?) Pottering further through the internet and away from my tree, I found an Elfrida who was Queen consort to Edgar, King of the English; roughly 957 - 975. (It's complicated.) King Edgar? Never heard of him! I know I'm wandering from my tree but they were a 'right lot' in those days and while I've not read this book about her its synopsis on Good Reads gives the idea! Indeed Elfrida would have made a good founding member for the League of Wicked Stepmothers. She had one of her step-sons murdered at Corfe Castle so - Dorset! Strength! Peace! Freda it is! It's an old fashioned name. If we ignore less pleasant associations, perhaps it's due for a come-back.

Are you following a tree?

All photographs in this post were taken on March 5th 2014

I'm Following a Tree

This post is part of the Tree Following project for 2014. To find out more about it, go to the Tree Following Page. Tomorrow (7th March 2014) there will be a Linky box. If you have a post about the tree you are following you will be able to leave its URL there so other readers will be able to find it easily. If you haven't used a linky box before, don't worry. It's all very straightforward and obvious when you see it. If your post isn't ready yet - no matter. The box will stay 'open' for a week.

Easy to remember - open for 7 days from 7th of every month from now on.

Want to join in? Email me at looseandleafy@googlemail.com

P.S. This tree is very tall. I'm no good at guessing heights. Carole at La Fosse has used trigonomtery to measure the height of the chestnut tree she's following. That's beyond me. All I can say is that 'my' tree is very tall but not as tall as hers!

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LET'S VISIT A TREE

This is the walk . . .

. . . with the tree we are visiting straight ahead, on the left hand side of the path.

It's very tall - which I know isn't a precise way to describe it - but, for scale, a car could pass down this track easily and have room to spare either side.

Its needles are like this.

There are several trees like it. Ivy grows up one of the narrower trunks.

The bark is peeling from them all. I'm startled by the red. Shiny and wet in the autumn rain, the exposed wood looks like flesh.

It has dinosaur toes.

I was going to check with iSpot - but the site is down so . . . does anyone know the name of this tree?

(It isn't Fred.)

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