#18thStreetPollinators - nothing to see, here

I feel like a cat who has just covered up a smelly thing in their litterbox and has dusted off their paws and wants nothing more to do with it. What, that? That wasn't me?! 

But here goes.

Two Wednesdays ago I ignored all the things I should have been doing and went to my friend Hannah's house in Park Slope to dig up plants. She was moving, packing up, and going on a big adventure, and had invited me to take anything in her garden (above) that might appeal to me. I was thrilled, and told her about the park on 18th Street and the plants it needed, and she said I was welcome to them. (For the backstory, visit these links for the #18thStreetPollinator garden, Parts One and Two.)

If only I could undo it.

Hannah lent me her garden clogs. It was muddy. I dug while a cardinal sang.

Very little had emerged, yet, but investigative digging revealed three intriguing mystery plants from a Brooklyn Botanic Garden sale. They had succulent white roots and were making lipstick-pink shoots. I found and dug up the dormant rootstocks of Japanese anemones and astilbe, which were carefully arranged in milk crates that Hannah gave me. The hostas of summer could not be located in mid-March. One crate was devoted to ferns. As I worked a procession of people from a Buy Nothing group perused some stellar free stuff in the apartment. 

As nearby church bells rang noon I pruned back unruly raspberry canes and dug them up with chunks of earth attached to their roots. A loose-limbed and very prickly rambling rose followed. Hannah said its flowers were white. I imagined them in bloom in early summer, and raspberries making fruit for visitors to the park. 

Along with plants donated by the Gowanus Nursery and by Alyse, a neighbor and Instagram friend, this collection would actually create a sense of structure for the plantless park around the corner from where we live. Flowers for pollinators and people. 

When everything was ready I fetched and double-parked the car Brooklyn-style, loaded up, and drove the plants to 18th Street. (Sorry about the plastic trash bags, but that rose really was very prickly.)

At the park I planted the liatris, iris, and lily bulbs that I bought a few days before. I tried not to disturb the alliums that had set the whole thing in motion, and which had already rooted. I placed, and planted, the rest. (My tools were a newly-acquired Fiskars spade and trowel; my terrace-gardening is minimalist: just a fierce Japanese hori, essentially useless in the deep, wood chip mulch, here.) 

The white rose - with a clematis at it feet - and raspberries were planted in the sunniest corner (above) closest to the roaring, exhaust-smelly Fort Hamilton Parkway. Lilies, liatris, alliums, fescues were hidden here, too. I intended planting icy-yellow sunflowers once our last frost-date was a memory (anyone need fancy sunflower seeds)? 

I was done just after 5pm. Tired and sore but pleased. I could see it all in my late May mind's eye. Now the space had shape, albeit incognito until warmer weather. An ideal time to plant, and a solid, essential day of rain to follow.

The next day, around Thursday, noon, I walked by to see how it was all doing in the promised rain. 

I noticed some black trash bags on the sidewalk. Then I saw an unusually deep depression where some of the liatris bulbs had been planted. Something was missing.

I walked quickly into the space and saw at once that Hannah's rose was gone. So were the raspberry canes. The clematis, the astilbe. The 'Eden' rose donated by my friend Michele, from the Gowanus Nursery. All the Heuchera nurtured by Alyse.

Everything.

But the #18thStreetPollinators sign was still there. 

I felt hollow. I looked at the row of houses facing the park. What had they seen?

At home I refunded the three kind people who had donated money (the Donate button had only gone live the day before). 

The next day I wrote to the plant donors. It was the only time I cried. And since then I have tried not to think about it at all. 

So what happened? 

Either: Someone had been watching. And moved in immediately. Or: The NYC Parks Department came by - either scheduled or due to a complaint -  and the workers removed every well-considered plant. This is the most likely scenario. (Except...the bulbs?)

I knew I was guerilla gardening, and I knew it was a risk. That was why I had the sign made. So anyone could go online with the hashtag to find out more. Fingers crossed. Stupid fingers.

So what now? 

It's simple. I quit. Whoever did it, whether through the vandalism of indifference, or through malice, or greed, won.  

Trying to define what flattened me, it is a combination of the destroyed potential, and quite simply, the plants. Just ripped out. I am at a loss.

I know why I did this: to make a beautiful space in a barren piece of land - a wasted, precious park. And, as Russia was invading Ukraine, this seemed a positive thing and a way to channel my own sense of helplessness. But I feel very stupid, and so very bad for the givers of plants. 

As an epitaph, here is what was planted. Possibly some of the bulbs made it.

 Gowanus Nursery:

1 'Eden' rose

2 Hypericum (St. John's-wort)

4 asters

6 fescues (still there, in disguise)

2 yellowroot (these were actually still there, invisible?)

Neighbor Alyse:

Lots of Heuchera

3 Phlox (woodland, I think)

2 hardy geraniums

1 mountain mint

1 sedum-ish perennial

Hannah:

About 14 New York ferns 

2 Christmas ferns

6 Japanese anemones

8-ish Astilbe

3 mystery plants just beginning to produce bright pink shoots

1 rambling white rose

1 clematis

10-ish raspberries 

Me:

8 Lilium henryi

30 Alliums

40 Dutch Iris

60 Liatris 

Thank you. And I am sorry.

#18thStreetPollinators

Park B255O has a name. 

The #18thStreetPollinators sign I ordered arrived from Etsy and was planted with the first plants on Friday, March 11th. It provides a succinct explanation for curious onlookers. The goal of the garden? To transform neglected park into a calm botanical oasis for humans and a feeding-stop for New York City pollinators.

If you would like to make a contribution there is a Donate button in the left side bar. 

I was hoping to have an 18thStreetPollinators Instagram account established quickly for passersby wanting to find out more, but a vexing glitch at Instagram's end has stalled it, for now. Very frustrating (because of the time it wasted). Hence the update, here.

I spent two hours planting, but only after spending around 45 minutes shifting massive layers of large-chip mulch to reach the soil. I imagine it was dumped so thickly to suppress weeds. I do remember a very lush patch of chickweed here, last spring. There was also evidence of mallow (long, living tap roots) and dock. The only living things under the trees. Also plenty of earthworms! Which will help with drainage.

My first stop was plant-collection: They may not look impressive right now but it's still pre-spring and this collection is dormant. Gowanus Nursery's Michele Palladino kindly donated plants she had to remove from one of the gardens she tends. An Eden rose, Hypericum, fescues, and asters. Alyse, an Instagram friend, donated lots of Heuchera, as well as phlox, geraniums, mountain mint and a hyssop. I am so grateful.

The NYC Parks sign at least designates this a city park, but there has been no response yet to my emails asking about official stewardship. 

While I worked, four people arrived to sit on the benches. One threw my work bag off before settling down. They were three adults who were developmentally impaired, and their minder, who apologized about the bag, and promptly fell asleep (he snored). They just sat, not able to engage, apparently, and made noises from time to time while I dug. I hoped my activity was at least more interesting than what must be their usual sitting-session.

Michele also gave me two yellow root plants - Xanthoriza simplicissima. I had never seen it before and it solved a forgotten plant ID question for me. It makes fascinating sprays of burgundy flowers, which I have seen in the woodlands in Central Park.

I concentrated on one long bed, planting the asters near some of the allium bulbs I buried a few weeks ago, along with the fescues, the rambling rose, mountain mint and a stray Echinacea. Because they are more or less invisible to anyone who is not a gardener I do worry about stomping, but also feel that they are less attractive to plant thieves than something that looks perfect. The faster I can get plants in, the more established the park may look and the more the threat-level drops. 

Three neighborhood friends are interested in helping out and I think this is the germ on an idea: Walk-by gardening. Dead-heading, weeding, spontaneous, co-operative, decentralized, and intuitive. 

I'll mention again what the NYC Parks and Recreation Department receives in funding: Less than 1% of New York City's annual budget. Most parks and gardens languish for lack of maintenance. It's the ongoing care that sees the least investment. 

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Pinesploration, Fort Tilden

Plant walk and picnic

18 March 2022

$60

#cookforukraine

b255o? - I see you

There is an empty park a few blocks from where we live. Its beds have been bare for as long as I have known it (just over three years). It has benches, but it is barren. 

It could be a place where pollinators and people feel good. Some bee-watching and butterfly therapy. Maybe a hummingbird or two.

It is a fact of never-ending wonder that New York City's mayoral budget allocates less - less - than 1% to the NYC Department of Parks and Recreation. It's closer to 0.5%. And it's not just about plants and greening: the department oversees sports facilities, playgrounds, tarmac stretches of basketball courts, community centers, lifeguard training. The list is endless. Plants come last.

Pandemic budget cuts have left everyone deeply backlogged and worse-off than before. Nobody has time, staff, or money. Yet where did everyone go, flee to, during the last two years? The parks. For classes, for exercise, for meetings, for work, for birthdays, for school, for everything.

Parks are green jewels in this populous city's crown. Privately-funded conservancies shoulder the burden of keeping iconic spaces like Central Park and Prospect Park (and so very many more) in working order. But small, incidental parks like the one in my hood fall between the weedy cracks unless someone takes a keen personal interest in them. 

I discovered (that sounds quick, it was a meandering process) that this little park has an identity, but no name: it is b255o. It is a "sitting park". There's just not a lot of incentive to sit here. The fresh layer of wood chips may have been spread during its last inspection (December 2nd, if one looks it up). While I have approached the parks department and a stewardship program to see how we can formally initiate the procedure of adopting a park it will be a long time (I think) before I hear back. I did this all over ten years ago in Manhattan for a much larger, locked space; and that shuttered park is now an open, thriving space, but times change. It will take longer for the un-greased wheels to begin turning, in 2022.  

So we're going guerilla. For now.

I'm holding my nose and jumping in. Which means I ordered 30 Allium bulbs and a sign to explain what's going on. Hoping it will attract some (welcome) attention and discourage dog owners from letting dogs in the beds. Making a commitment helps motivate myself, too. Two friends-through-my-walks have already offered their labor.  

Now we just need, well, plants.

The demands on city plantings are high. They range from drought, to compacted or poorly draining soil, to pollution (dog pee and poop, salt, heavy metals), to theft by humans who want the plants for themselves, to old-fashioned stomping and crushing. So plant choices matter, and after that fingers must be crossed once they are in the ground.

The plants must tough enough for the climate, obviously (USDA Zone 7b). That's the easy part. But they must also be resilient enough to be able to grow without more than the occasional presence of a gardener, and especially, no supplemental watering: new plantings are vulnerable. So I expect setbacks and some teeth-gnashing.

As I think out loud here are some wish list plants that will hold up and become self-sufficient. Most are North American natives, but some are not. I'm thinking seasonal interest, benefits for pollinators and birds, and even some edible plants (in case someone is in desperate need of fennel fronds for their fish stew). 

The space now is sunny, but in summer will be a mix of high, dappled shade, thanks to the plane trees nearby. The corner above will have direct sun. The choices below will evolve and will be influenced by what is available where, and when - these will hopefully be donations. Holler if you have some spare shrubs lying about. 

B2550 Pollinator Garden

Shrubs:

2 Serviceberry (Amelanchier spp) - question mark; early flowers, midsummer fruit, vivid fall color

3  Black chokeberry (Aronia melanocarpa) - spring flowers, late summer fruit, beautiful fall color

3 Clethra/sweet pepperbush (Clethra alnifolia) - late summer flowers, scented, butterfly magnet

3  Dwarf fothergilla (Fothergilla gardenii) - mid spring flowers, vivid autumn leaves

3  Oak leaf hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia) - early summer flowers are a bee magnet, flowers persist through early fall, beautiful bronzing leaf color through fall

3 Rosa but what form and cultivar? - 'Knockout' is the municipal standard but the barren flowers provide nothing for bees

Perennials:

30 Alliums (ornamental, no-name brand) - tall, striking, disliked by squirrels, bee-magnets; acquired!

10 Anise-scented goldenrod (Solidago odora) - early fall flowers, pollinator-magnet, edible leaves and flowers

10 Bronze fennel - tall, gorgeous foliage, flowers for pollinators, leaves for butterfly larvae, self-seeding

10 Foam flower (Tiarella cordifolia) - early spring flowers, bees love em. Native (I have babies that will make babies)

6 Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum) - long-blooming, bee-favorite, scented foliage

3 Milkweed - (Asclepias - not sure what species, yet) pollinator magnets, lovely flowers, showy seed heads

6 Ostrich ferns (Matteuccia struthiopteris) - sculptural, makes many babies, sequesters heavy metals

6 Thimbleweed (Anemone virginiana) - early summer flowers, attractive seed heads, disliked by pests

6 Mountain mint (Pycnanthemum virginianum) - fragrant, edible leaves, pollinator magnet-flowers in summer

12 Violets - spring optimism, fragrance, weed-smothering, self seeding

Annuals:

Jewelweed  (native Impatiens capensis) - attractive to hummingbirds, bumblebees, self seeds

Nicotiana (N. sylvestris) - statuesque, scented, attractive to hummingbirds

Papalo (Porophyllum ruderale) - people-pleaser, purely to make neighborhood Latinex cooks and eaters smile

Perilla/shiso/sesame leaf (Perilla frutescens) - self seeds (too freely), tall, striking, fragrant and edible leaves, drought tolerant, appealing to everyone

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My Spring Classes at the NYBG