Welcome black!

I hadn't thought much about black squirrels since I saw my first one several years ago. Sightings have become pretty routine in the downtown Kankakee area. -- Not so routine though that I didn't get excited when I saw one in my own yard the other day. I don't know why a black squirrel seems so much better than a gray one, but it does. It's more like having my own personal mink than a bushy-tailed rat.

Black squirrels are really just variations of the Eastern gray squirrel. Their dark, almost silky fur is the result of a genetic variation called melanism, a condition caused by an abundance of black pigmentation -- melanin -- in their skin and hair. (It's the opposite of albinism, where a lack of melanin causes an all-white coat.) Biologists estimate that just one in 10,000 squirrels dons such a dusky coat, so I consider myself fortunate to have one taking up residence in my garden.

Now, if I could just get all the sparrows to turn into bluebirds...

A new buddleia

I just received some pre-press about a new butterfly bush that won't be fully available until Spring of '09. The Lo & Behold 'Blue Chip' dwarf buddliea (maturing at 2-3 feet) is being touted as having some very fine characteristics, including:

* Plenty of fragrant, continuous blooms
* An easy to grow, low maintenance culture
* A tidy, compact and attractive habit
* Adaptability to heat, cold, frost and drought
* Deer resistant
* Environmentally friendly (does not drop seed)

'Blue Chip' is the first introduction in the Lo & Behold series of dwarf buddleia. Additional colors are supposed to be added over time. As a Proven Winners ColorChoice introduction, look for it to be extensively promoted to both the trade and consumers.

I've never had much success with buddleias. I don't think that I really know how to prune them back in the spring. I've always cut mine to about a foot high, but then it either never filled out or it died completely. Perhaps in my over zealous rush to get into the spring garden, I've just been pruning too early and the new growth buds have been nipped by late frosts.

Whatever the reason for my disappointing results, this dwarf suggests new possibilities.

A keeper

As I was looking out my kitchen window the other day, my eyes fell upon the Oregon grape (Mahonia aquifolium) growing outside the picket fence. As I was appreciating its shiny leaves -- they are a beautiful mahogany color this time of year -- I started wondering why it is that I hear so little about this particular shrub. True, it's not a focal point plant. It doesn't produce particularly showy flowers. But there is a kind of a quiet beauty about it. And, anything that's still looking good this time of year deserves consideration in my book.

This shrub is very easy care. (Actually, I can't remember ever doing anything to mine except pruning a couple of dead branches once.) It grows in most any lighting conditions from deep shade to full sun, though it definitely likes partial shade or dappled sunlight best. It tolerates clay soils and seasonal flooding, but has also done well in drought seasons with little, if any, supplemental watering. About the only place where I couldn't recommend it would be open, windy sites.

Growing 5-6 feet tall at maturity, the shrub produces yellow flowers in spring and blue edible fruits after that, which can be used to make jelly or left to the birds, who just love them. And, because it has spiny evergreen leaves similar to an English holly, it's also rarely bothered by deer.

So, what's not to love?

Another one bites the dust?

I knew that I was taking a chance when I first planted my Viburnum plicatum tomentosum 'Shasta' in 2000. I knew that it was rated as a Zone 5b plant at best (most sources said Zone 6), but our winters had been mild and I guess that I wanted to believe that they would stay that way. And for six years, they did.

During those six years, the 'Shasta' grew into a gorgeous focal point in the outer border. For several weeks in May, it was smothered in large, white lacecap inflorescences, but its architectural beauty captivated me anytime I glanced in the shrub's direction.

Then, last year, a couple days of below zero weather killed a good third of those striking stems. And now, with our most recent temperatures, I'm wondering if there will be anything left come spring.