All over the country, people are cultivating butterfly gardens.  This is a great thing because butterflies are threatened from all sides.  Habitat destruction, pollution and pesticides have all played a role in the reduction in the butterfly population. 

But once you have your butterfly garden, what do you do (aside from weeding)?  It is great fun and a terrific education to keep track of the butterflies that come to sip nectar from your flowers, lay eggs on host plants or simply rest from the task of flying around in search of food.  This is also a good activity to pursue with children or grandchildren.

But what if you don't know a swallowtail from a skipper?

There are many information sources, but probably the best is a good butterfly guidebook.  I like The National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies (Knopf Publishing Group, 1981).  It is comprehensive, easy to use and inexpensive.  There are also butterfly-related websites, including that of the North American Butterfly Association (www.naba.org).  The NABA site also has a great "links" tab that can connect you to butterfly groups in your state or area.  The Xerxes Society (www.xerxes.org) advocates for all kinds of pollinating insects, including butterflies.  Its website is full of interesting information.

So take the time to learn a little something about butterflies.  It will make your butterfly garden even more satisfying. 

Lately as I've been weeding the garden, I've noticed many self-sown seedlings, especially foxgloves, larkspur, perilla and even rose of Sharon.  When I was a novice gardener, I never grubbed out unwanted seedlings, because I was afraid that if I did so I would somehow jinx all my gardening efforts.  After all, what are self-sown plants if not a gift horse, and we've all been taught never to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Now that I have many years of gardening under my belt, I am more practical and less superstitious.  The same plants have been self-seeding in my yard for years, and if I grub out the unwanted ones no harm at all will be done.  Plants like California poppy, which produce thousands of seeds, do so to ensure the survival of the species.  Even if I pull out scores of tiny California poppy offspring, I won't come anywhere near getting all of them. 

Of course the choice plants that I want to self-sow rarely do so.  That's part of the natural order as well.  Some of those plants are sterile hybrids; others just need extremely specific conditions for proper germination.   The money that I save by not buying the self-seeders can be spent on plants that refuse to reproduce in my private Eden.

Wise gardeners make peace with nature--and grub out chance-sown seedlings.

Morning glories (Convolvulus) are indispensable.  There is nothing better for covering trellises, arches or tuteurs and, as long as you have some kind of tall, relatively sturdy support, you can even grow them in pots.  They are also perfect for people who don't want to commit to a perennial vine like clematis. 

Most years I start my morning glories from fresh seed that I buy each spring.  This past spring I used seed that I had collected from the previous year's plants.  The results were interesting.  Though last summer's beds held a mix of varieties, the only one that has sprouted reliably from the collected seed is the heirloom variety 'Grandpa Ott's'.  I am not sure what happened to all the others, but 'Grandpa Ott's' has come through valiantly, producing more dark purple blooms every day. 

It's possible that some of the others are simply late bloomers.  The spring was dry and all the plants got off to a slow start.  I check every day in the hopes of finding a few blue or pink blossoms.  I do enjoy mixed colors, so next spring, I'll probably buy fresh seed.  For now, though, I'll be content watching 'Grandpa' work his way up to the second storey of my house.

For the past two weeks I have been harvesting blueberries from the bush in my backyard.  I have waited a long time for this.  The blueberry bush is four years old and this is the first year that it has produced a bountiful harvest.  I generally eat a few as I pick them and save the rest.  I like them with vanilla yogurt, but they also occasionally find their way into a very decent blueberry crisp.

Related to cranberries, blueberries are known botanically as Vaccinium corymbosum.  They make first class garden ornamentals, with their pink spring flowers, pretty (and delicious) blue fruits and brightly colored autumn leaves.  An estate garden near my house has a double allee of blueberry bushes flanking a long expanse of lawn and admiring visitors are always surprised to find out what the bushes are.

 Acid soil and sunshine are best for optimum blueberry production and bird netting helps to ensure that you get to eat the fruits of your labors.  The bushes themselves are unfussy and easy to care for.  There are various blueberry varieties on the market.  The bush in my yard is similar to the 'Northland' variety, which is fairly compact.  When it is mature it will be about three feet tall and equally wide and could easily work in a container.  I am looking forward to the day when my blueberry yields enough fruit for a pie. 

Most of us will never be self-sufficient when it comes to food crops.  However, nothing beats the feeling of harvesting something that you have grown yourself.

If maintaining a beautiful garden is about creating a series of beautiful pictures, then the most important part of the act of creation is editing.  To put it in a less artistic way--cleaning up is one of the best things you can do for your garden.  For example, my blackberries have finished bearing fruit for the year.  For the health of the blackberry patch and the beauty of the area around it, I need to cut back the spent canes.  The daylilies have mostly come and gone.  I generally let the foliage ripen a bit, then cut it back so that the asters and other late summer and early fall flowers can shine.

Of course there are a few exceptions to this rule.  Once blooming roses often form lovely hips, and should be left alone.  Some clematis sport interesting seed heads that deserve a moment (or two) in the sun.  On the whole, though, it's a good idea to carry a pair of clippers with you on your daily trips around the yard.  That makes it easy to clip spent stalks, leaves or branches. 

With America going "green", gardeners are more and more interested in using native plants in their beds, borders and pots.  But what does "native" mean?  Native to North America?  Native to your region?  Native to the ten square mile area surrounding your house or apartment?  To make things just a bit more confusing, lots of plants that many people consider native are naturalized foreigners.  Queen Ann's Lace, which grows wild on the edges of fields and roadsides as well as abandoned city lots, was brought from England and escaped from colonial gardens long ago.

Then there is another issue.  Some natives are not very showy, but hybridizers have used them as parents to create new plant varieties with larger flowers or more attractive foliage.  The hybrids may be great garden plants and make a much bigger visual statement, but they are not natives.

So what is the ordinary person supposed to do?  Library or internet research can help.  Simply enter "native plants" and the name of your state or region and you should come up with a number of hits.  There are also many books on the subject.   One of the best is Native Alternatives to Invasive Plants by C Colston Burrell, Janet Marinelli (Editor), Bonnie Harper-Lore (Editor)  (Brooklyn Botanic Garden, 2006).  Burrell, a veteran garden writer, starts with a lengthy list of non-native invasive plants and pairs them with native substitutes.   This is especially helpful for gardeners who are making gradual changes in their planting schemes. 

You can also consult wildflower guides for your region, most of which will tell you which wildflowers are natives, like the New England aster, as opposed to non-natives like the common ox-eye daisy.  Once you know either the Latin or common name of the plant that interests you, do a little more online research.  One of the best sources of information on where to buy particular seeds or plants is the University of Minnesota's Plant Information Online.  Access the site, enter the name of the plant and hit "enter".  The site will generate a list of both wholesale and retail sources with contact information. 

Native plants provide great habitat to all kinds of birds, butterflies and pollinating insects.  They help blunt the effects of overdevelopment and enrich the environment.  Some of them are just plain beautiful and well worth investigating. 

Bearded iris are wonderful in the spring, with their tall stalks and large, showy flowers.  If you want to continue the show, you have to take care of your iris, and that care includes lifting and dividing them about every three years.  If your iris clumps are congested and seem to be producing fewer blossoms than in years past, chances are it's time to take this step.  Fortunately, it isn't hard because iris rhizomes thrive close to the soil surface and have shallow roots.

To divide an iris clump, trim the long iris leaves so that they are only about two inches tall; then take a spade and dig all the way around the clump, gradually lifting it away from the surrounding soil.  Knock the as much soil as possible off the mass of rhizomes so that you can see what you are doing.  Divide the clump into pieces, making sure that each division has the remnants of a leaf emerging from the rhizome.  Discard any rhizome pieces that are soft, spongy or shriveled.  Amend the soil with compost or other organic fertilizer.  Replant the healthy divisions close to the soil surface, spacing them six or more inches from each other so that they will have room to grow. 

You will probably have some spare divisions.  Plant them in other locations on your property or give them to friends.  Trading rhizomes with other iris lovers is a great way to acquire different colored iris and expand your collection.  

At this time of year I am always trying to get the purslane out of my sidewalk cracks.  Now its relative, portulaca or moss rose, is growing out of some of those same cracks and I couldn't be happier.  Purslane is a creeping, succulent plant, with plump green leaves.  It's edible, if you are into such things, and it's vigorous to put it mildly.  I don't eat it, so I pull it out.

Portulaca is also succulent, though its little leaves are not as fat as those of purslane.  The flowers are somewhat poppy-like and come in an array of colors.  Individual flowers only last one day, but the plant produces blooms repeatedly over a long season.  You can encourage the reblooming tendency by deadheading the spent flowers.

The beauty of portulaca, for those of us who experience very dry summers or who grow plants in infrequently watered flower beds and containers, is that it can get along without much water.  Like most succulents, it stores moisture in its leaves. 

Portulaca can be started from seed or from garden center cell packs.  Either way it is easy to grow and a flagrant self-seeder.  (That's how it got into my sidewalk cracks.)  Since it is a low-grower, it is best for the edges of beds and the front of borders.  You can fill pots with single colors or plant a seed mix and enjoy the rainbow.  Either way, it's one less plant to worry about--which will give you more time for the purslane in the sidewalk cracks.  

A couple of days ago I was out for a walk and I saw a tremendously tall plant--probably about six feet--looming over a neighbor's fence.  Even from a distance I could recognize Joe Pye weed (Eupatorium purpureum), an American native that bursts into bloom at this time of the year.

The story goes that Joe Pye weed gets its unusual name from a real person, possibly a Native American herbalist, who used decoctions made from the plant's roots to cure typhus.  Certainly Joe Pye weed is easy to come by.  If you have ever traveled through rural areas in the eastern two thirds of the United States in midsummer, you have probably passed fields full of this tenacious plant.    

The flowers are dusty purple and clustered into domed flowerheads at the tops of the stalks.  The tall, hollow stalks support leaves that are a bit rough looking--oval shaped and slightly toothed.  It's safe to say that nobody buys Joe Pye weed for the leaves.  Butterflies flock to the flowers, which makes the species a natural for the butterfly garden.

If you buy common Joe Pye weed, you can keep it a little more compact by pinching back the stems in May and June.  I do this and my tall plants top out at four feet rather than six.  There are also dwarf varieties, including 'Gateway' and 'Little Joe', that stop at four feet.  With pinching you might be able to make them even shorter.  Both could be grown in large containers.

Joe Pye weed likes sun and a reasonable amount of moisture.  Some sources recommend alkaline soil, but mine grows just fine in acid soil. 

Like so many things with strange names, Joe Pye weed is worth a second look and worthy of a spot in the garden.

For years I prized the praying mantises that I found in my shrubs and elsewhere in the garden.  I looked carefully for their egg cases and avoided them when pruning.  I marveled at the elegance and patience of the adult insects as they waited for prey to come near enough to be snapped up.  I mourned just a bit when I saw the occasional dead mantis on the ground.

Why all this reverence for a mere insect?  Mantises are voracious predators that eat lots of harmful bugs.  I have plenty of aphids, Japanese beetles, earwigs and other insect pests and I know that praying mantises help control them in my organic garden.

Then one day I watched a praying mantis snap up a butterfly.  It happened so quickly that I almost missed it, but it definitely happened.  I was appalled that the mantis would make a meal out of something so lovely.  The reverence was replaced by revulsion.

Then I sat back and thought about it.  The mantis can't really be blamed for doing what comes naturally.  It  doesn't have the same standards of beauty as I do--in fact the only thing that probably looks beautiful to a mantis is a mantis of the opposite sex.  Even then, the females sometimes bite of the males' heads during mating.

So while I may never be able to love the mantis quite as much, I still think they have a valuable role in my garden.  They probably eat more bad bugs than butterflies, simply because butterflies are in the minority.  The mantises play a role in natural selection, which while unpleasant when it comes to tiger swallowtails, is necessary in the great scheme of things.

Now, if I can just forget that mantises are most closely related to termites and cockroaches...

Growing up in the northeastern United States (USDA Zone 5), I never saw a crape myrtle (Lagerstroemia indica).  Known and loved throughout the South, these large shrubs or small trees are hardy only through USDA Zone 6.

Now I live in a slightly warmer zone and I am delighted by the sight of crape myrtle in flower.  Though the plants can begin flowering in June, many varieties come into their own in July when much of the garden tends to look parched.  You might not spot the resemblance, but they are part of the same family as the beautiful but invasive purple loosestrife.  Crape myrtle is just as lovely, but has much better manners. 

Standard crape myrtle varieties can grow between ten and twenty feet tall; dwarf varieties are available for smaller spaces.

Many crape myrtles have beautiful gray bark that peels off to reveal multi-colored bark underneath.  Most also produce wonderful fall leaf color--either yellow or brilliant red.  The flowers though, are the plants' greatest asset.  They are born in panicles or branched flowerheads of multiple small blossoms, each of which has six petals.

Crape myrtle flowers can be white, pink, purple or my favorite, red.  A neighbor of mine positioned a red crape myrtle near his gray-shingled house.  The effect is magnificent.

Seen from a distance, a group of crape myrtle in flower look like colorful clouds or an Impressionist painting.  Used this way they make a great hedge.  A single specimen can anchor a garden.  If you live in the right climate, crape myrtle is a wonderful garden investment.

At midsummer, rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus) comes into its own.  Related to holly hocks, mallows and tropical hibiscus, the flowers can be white, pink, red or blue-purple.  Some have bi-colored blooms with maroon centers or eye zones.

Rose of Sharon are medium to large deciduous shrubs that can also be trained to grow as small trees.  The medium green leaves are toothed and attractive, though nobody buys rose of Sharon for the leaves.  Once the single or double flowers have faded, the large seed pods keep the plants looking interesting throughout the fall.  If not removed, they will persist throughout he winter.

A rose of Sharon in full bloom is a gorgeous thing.  Individual flowers only last a couple of days, but they on healthy plants they are born in profusion.

If you love double flowers, there are numerous varieties for you.  I grow 'White Chiffon' (above), a cultivar with double white flowers that looks fresh and cool in the summer heat.  My garden is also home to some older varieties, including single and double-flowered blue-purple varieties.  The double, blue-purple flowers darken as they age, making it appear that the shrubs bloom in a variety of colors.

If you have a rose of Sharon that doesn't bloom at all, chances are it doesn't get enough light.  If it is near trees, limb up the trees to let a bit more sunshine in.  If that isn't possible, move the shrub to a sunnier spot in the spring or the fall. 

Older rose of Sharon varieties and some of the newer ones have one liability--they tend to become "leggy", with long branches and few flowers.  The remedy for this is to prune the bush after it flowers.  You sacrifice the seed pods (unless you dry them), but the pruning will produce a bushier plant with more blooms.

To standardize your rose of Sharon, pick one strong trunk and lop off any others.  Trim off all branches that are lower than three feet from ground level.  Continue to keep the plant pruned in this way and eventually your will  have a lovely small tree. 

Rose of Sharon also makes a fine deciduous hedge.

Rose of Sharon, while not a real rose, blooms at a time when many garden roses are sulking.  Treat it as a treasure. 

Daylilies (Hemerocallis) are wonderful plants and there are hundreds of different varieties on the market.  I like daylilies best when they are massed or at least used in clumps of three or five.  Fortunately for those of us who must watch our pennies, happy specimens reproduce quickly.  Start with one clump and after a few years you can divide and start on a massed display.

But what about color?  I have seen spellbinding displays of only one  color or variety.  If you want something a little different, however, work with two or possibly three varieties that have a color connection.  The other day I saw a long daylily border featuring orange-flowered, yellow-flowered and bi-colored daylilies.  The bi-colored variety had alternating yellow and orange petals, bringing together the hues of the other two.  The three varieties were interplanted so there were no single color blocks.  The effect was wonderful.

You can do this yourself.  Start with the pale yellow, reblooming daylily 'Happy Returns' (below).  Add the lovely, near-black 'Black Emanuelle' (below).  Finally, intermingle with the bi-colored 'El Desperado' (above), that features pale yellow flowers with darkest purple throats.  You will end up with a wonderful display, especially as the plants become larger and bloom for longer periods of time.  'Happy Returns' even keeps the show going by blooming several times during the growing season.

Of course daylilies depend on full sun and regular moisture.  If you provide that, they will outperform expectations every time.   

Sometimes answers come to you out of the blue.  Today was one of those times for me.

I have some empty space under a maple tree in the strip between the sidewalk and the street.  Hostas will work well there, but I wanted some spring color as well.  While I was on my knees weeding behind a large yew shrub I found the answer--columbine.

My columbines, like everyone else's, are rampant self-seeders.  Large numbers of those seeds apparently found their way to the quiet place behind the yew and went about the business or reproducing.  Now all I have to do is transplant them and my problem will be solved--quickly, elegantly and cheaply.

So, the next time you have space to fill, look around for self-sown annuals or overgrown perennials and transplant or divide them.  Think of it as recycling.

Anyone who has ever spent time in the garden is aware of calming affects gardening has on even the most stressful life. However, all gardening benefits go straight out the window when one comes face to face with a large unknown insect. While many of these insects are beneficial to the garden, one can’t help but notice the resemblance of many of these insects to alien creatures.  So here are the top 5 bugs that most resemble life from another planet.

1. Phyllocrania paradoxa - More commonly known as “ghost mantis.” While a variety of mantis had to top the list, I didn’t want to go with the well know green praying mantis. The ghost mantis is one of the smallest species of mantis and looks both like an alien and a leaf. The interesting shape of the head and large oval eyes resemble what we think aliens look like however the body is extremely leaf-like. The resemblance is not just in their appearance but also their movements. Especially when the male is in a fight stance. If you have ever had any doubt about the existence of alien life, take a look at a mantis my friend. The ghost mantis is an especially unique variety.

2. Podisus maculiventris - “Spined Soldier Bug”. This beneficial stinkbug actually makes the list not due to the adults’ resemblance to an alien but because of the offspring immediately after they hatch. It looks like an invasion of solider bugs from another planet. Luckily for us they grow into garden helpers by eating caterpillars and worms. 

3. Centipedes - They may be helpful around your garden but that doesn’t stop many people from jumping out of their Birkenstocks when they are greeted by one. With over 8,000 species worldwide they can range in both color and size. They also have an uncanny resemblance to an alien creature.

4. Assassin Bug - From the Reduviidae family, known to have over 3000 different species! While they all vary in size and color, they have one thing in common. All use their beak to suck out tissue from unsuspecting prey. They also have an uncanny resemblance to aliens. Considering they can be found just about everywhere in the world, taking a closer look at your garden might be prudent.  

5. Manduca quinquemaculata - Or the dreaded “tomato hornworm.” Any tomato gardener that has had the opportunity to meet these guys knows how destructive they truly are. The “hornworm” is actually a big caterpillar that can reach 4 cm in length. The caterpillar itself is quite alien like with a green body, white v shape marking and what appears to be “fake” eyes up and down the sides of the body. However, this guy starts to look really interesting when Mother Nature steps in. The braconid wasp will lay its eggs on the back of the hornworm. This paralyzes the hornworm. Just a word of advice to gardeners if you happen to see a hornworm in this state, doesn’t kill it. When the eggs hatch the wasps will kill the hornworm in your garden. While this is a beneficial process, it looks pretty alien.

So the next time you decide to step outside to relax in the garden, beware of what might be lurking in your plants!