Takoma Gardener

Sustainable Fishing in the News

A tipping point has clearly been crossed because all of a sudden the need for sustainable fishing practices is everywhere.  And not just at The Slow Cook,  which I read religiously, despite my lack of interest in cooking.  It's also here, here and - oh, everywhere.

So I was primed to try the new Georgetown hot spot Hook, the first restaurant in D.C. that adheres strictly to sustainable fishing practices.  Chef Barton Seaver, called a "visionary" in this Washington Post review, visits all his suppliers to make sure they're not using such widespread practices as overfishing, collection techniques that destroy habitat, or farming with the use of antibiotics.

So how do sustainable fish taste?  Like real food, the real meat of creatures of the sea, but with a touch of Barton's culinary magic.  I'm no food critic but yum!

Each customer receives a wallet-sized brochure outlining in detail the fish to avoid and the fish to eat with impunity, a brochure brought to us with the help of Patagonia and the Blue Ocean Institute.  (The brochure's supposed to be on line here, but that link isn't working at the moment.)  And Earth Echo International is also involved somehow and my dinner companion was their secretary-treasurer, the charming Jan Cousteau, whom I'd met at the DC opening of "The Green" on the Sundance Channel.

So that's what I was doing at a "glam new watering hole" that's "swimming with the young and pretty."  A little off my usual beat. 

Photo of Jan Cousteau and Chef Barton Seaver, taken with a camera whose flash wasn't working at that particular moment.

Organic Mosquito Control - Bats!

Okay, there's nothing new happening in my garden this time of year and I need diversions.  Netflix is a big help but what I miss most on frigid days is connecting with nature, so I recently purchased a bat-house.  It holds up to 100 bats and cost $45 (part of which goes toward conservation efforts, I'm told.)

But buying the house brought so much more than this lovely tree ornament; it revealed to me a whole world of bat conservation.  There's the Organization for Bat Conservation out of Michigan, from which I ordered my bat-house.   Their site holds a wealth of great info, including how to arrange an in-person program for school kids - too bad it's only available in Michigan (not to mention only for kids).  The site has a bat-house-owner forum, too, where I found tales of owners counting the bats return to the house in early morning, using their binoculars to identify the species, and more wildlife excitement.  See, I'm such a lousy birder that I've experienced only failure at identifying birds, but there are so few bat species in my area, I have a fighting a chance.

Another amazing site is produced by Bat Conservation International, based in Austin (there it is again, one of the coolest city in the U.S.)  On their site you can join their Adopt a Bat program and receive an "endearing letter from your bat."  Okay, that's not my favorite part, but how about learning about their backward-facing knees and locking claws make hanging upside down easy?  And then there's the Latin American bat that eats only blood, the legendary vampire.  So legendary, in fact, that the Wikipedia entry for vampires is about the legends, not the actual animal.  Hey, bat conservation people, how about amending the entry?

Best of all, I learn that a small insect-eating bat can eat up to 2,000 mosquito-size insects in one night - GO TEAM!

I've committed to writing a bunch of columns about wildlife as part of my town's campaign to become certified as a Wildlife Habitat Community, so you'll be reading more soon about bats, pollinating bees, and good old butterfly gardens.

ADDENDUM, in response to a commenter, about WHERE TO PUT THE BAT-HOUSE.  From the Organization for Bat Conservation site:

In the Northeast: Where you mount your bat house plays a major role in the internal temperature.  Houses can be mounted on such structures as poles, sides of buildings and tall trees without obstructions. Houses placed on poles and structures tend to become occupied quicker than houses placed on trees. Bat houses should face south to southeast to take advantage of the morning sun. In northern states and Canada, bat houses need to receive at least 6 to 8 hours of direct sunlight. It is also advantageous to paint the house black to absorb plenty of heat (when baby bats are born, they need it very warm). Use non-toxic, latex paint to paint your bat house and only paint the outside.  Your bat house should be mounted at least 15 feet above the ground, the higher the house the greater the chance of attracting bats.   

Bats return from migration and awaken from hibernation as early as March in most of the U.S., but stay active year-round in the extreme southern U.S. They will be abundant through out the summer and into late fall. Most houses used by bats are occupied in the first 1 to 6 months (during the first summer the bat house was erected). If bats do not roost in your house by the end of the second summer, move the house to another location.

MORE ON WHETHER THEY WORK:  I once heard a wildlife gardening expert say that it may take a while for the bats to discover the house, but once they find it, it works well.

Googling for Bees

Here's a little piece of garden art that always starts a conversation - and raises questions I can't answer, leading me to shrug stupidly and sputter disjointed bits of information.  So I decided it's time to stop embarassing myself and do a little Googling.

So, what you see is an artificial nest for orchard mason bees, pollinating bees that are native to the U.S.  Solitary and therefore not hive-building, these bees lay their eggs in mud-walled cells like these drill holes, or straws packed in a coffee can that's then mounted a few feet off the ground facing the morning sun. Although the person who sold me this nest-holder raved about the pollinating abilities of these bees, they can't be managed directly by humans - say, hauled around to different farmers' fields - and thus aren't suitable to large-scale agricultural use. Even worse, most native pollinating bees nest in the ground, so any disturbance and they're history.  The use of pesticides has also reduced their numbers.

All of which helps in explaining why honeybees were brought here from Europe to pollinate crops for our growing population.  But the recent destruction of about half the American honeybee population by a parasitic mite has highlighted the dangers of overreliance on any  particular species.  So I'm right there, offering these little drill holes to the wandering orchard mason bee looking for a nest site.  I know it won't make much difference in the scheme of things but hey, it's something.  And not a bad-looking garden ornament, either.

RANDOM HONEYBEE FACTS:  The average honeybee hive holds 50,000 bees.  It takes the nectar of about 2 million flowers to produce one pound of honey.  Honeybees are used in the pollination of 130 agricultural crops in the U.S. and add $14 billion to crop yield and quality. 15 to 30 percent of our diet relies on honeybees.

FUN TREND:  Reportedly, a "deeply cool and trendy" new hobby in British cities is beekeeping, on rooftops and in tiny backyards.  One advocate describes it as a "fashionable thing to do something for the environment."  Don't look for this trend to jump the pond and land in Washington, D.C. any time soon, though.  Beekeeping is banned in D.C. and many other stinger-fearing jurisdictions.

"The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill"

Here's a nature pick-me-up for a dreary winter day - this fabulous documentary about a flock of escaped parrots in SF and the man who's dedicated his life to them.  A smart and lovable aging hippie, Mark Bittner was determined to spend his life doing only what he loved, whether it was his music or later, spending time with these and other large birds, even if it meant being very poor.  So about 10 minutes into the movie old Mark had me questioning my very way of life.

Then there's the birds themselves, just as lovable and even more watchable than Mark.  Bottom line - I want one, or more.  Do you think my cats would mind?  (Hell, no; they'd love a change of diet.) And in their own way, the birds, too, challenged my thinking, especially my assumption that nonnative animals in the wild are a terrible thing.  Upon learning that some environmental groups had tried to have these wonderful animals exterminated I was shocked and appalled.   Killer bees from Africa? Go ahead and nuke 'em.  Nutria clogging the Chesapeake Bay?  Well, they're bigger and almost cute, so go ahead but don't show me any photos.  Hey, they never asked to be brought here from South America. These parrots were spared, at least for now, but with flocks now living wild in various U.S. cities, the issue of what to do about them will surely rise again and I'm just hoping we come up with the funds to send them back to the wilds of Argentina, if it comes to that.  And I thought invasive plants were a hot issue.

But don't worry; the movie isn't about controversy.  It's really about romance, in various forms.

A final note: If you rent this little gem I recommend getting the DVD version (assuming it's even available in VCR) because of the terrific extras, like little stories about bird sanctuaries and Mark's home movies, every bit as mesmerizing as the movie itself.

Winter Solstice - Things I Didn't Know

Happy Winter Solstice! My little gift to you is a terrific site I just discovered, though it's been loved by many for years.  It's all about the solstice, with lots about its ancient and cross-cultural observance.  At Candlegrove I also found this basic science that blew me away.

"Today brings the Winter Solstice. The actual moment of the Sun's lowest latitude in the sky is 10:35 am, PST. Welcome Yule!

"Solstice means "standing still sun." Daylight won't begin to lengthen significantly for a few days. For example, here in San Francisco, at winter solstice we have 9 hours, 33 minutes of daylight. Our day will remain that length in minutes until Christmas, before gaining a minute more.

"In fact, even though winter solstice brings the shortest day of the year, it doesn't feel like it to many people. That's because more people experience sunsets than sunrises. At mid-northern latitudes, the earliest sunsets occur during the first week of December. Sunset actually occurs a little bit later each day as we move closer to the winter solstice. The days really are getting shorter, but it's because the sun is rising later each morning. That's why the days at the beginning of December usually feel the shortest. This tidbit from Jack Horkheimer of the PBS program, Stargazer."

I was prompted to do this bit of research after noticing the sun's position in the sky this morning, when it looked exactly like this photo.  Actually, I've been noticing its progression up and down the latitudes all year - yet another reason to spend time in the garden.  Though it was only 30 degrees when I went out this morning (just below freezing for readers living in more science-friendly nations) it felt great.  That's thanks to enough layers of clothes and being really active - collecting and hauling those leaves I keep talking about.  And that's coming from a warmth-loving Southerner.

Loving those Green Minutes

I had the pleasure this week of hearing a symposium in D.C. called "Growing a Green Community" where I heard something that's stuck with me. "If we take the human benefits of contact with nature seriously, then what you want to do is build in more green minutes each day." 

Exactly, and no one has to convince us gardeners of the benefits of being in nature.  And while lately "green" has become the popular metaphor for harmony with nature, this time of year we appreciate the subtler colors of winter - the point again being to just experience nature.  I remembered that when I was "checking my garden" this morning in the subfreezing air.  Skiers and winter campers may not tempt me to join them but they inspire me nonetheless.

You may be interested to know the answer proposed by the speaker:  "That means either bringing green into the places that people are spending a lot of time -- those retail areas that are intensely used could be greener - and then also finding ways of pulling people into parks and the green spaces."

It's exciting that people are thinking this way, and finally starting to be heard by the powers that be.

Mountain Lions and Wildcats and Bears - Oh, My!

This is where I took my daily walk while I was in Tucson - Sabino Canyon, part of the National Forest system.  But check out the sign.  "High Mountain Lion Activity - Enter at Your Own Risk."  Like "Falling Rock," it's one of those signs that probably does more to prevent litigation than accidental deaths.  Well, I didn't see one but here's what they look like. Yeah, that would get my attention.  And the spotted one below is what we actually did see roaming the condo community  where I was staying - the bobcat or wildcat.  Kinda like our suburban deer, only lethal.  And the bears mentioned are black bears, also common in the canyon. 

And moving beyond Dorothy's trio of horrors, there's the all-night howling of coyotes, and lots of white-tailed deer and rabbits, just to name the larger wildlife.

You could say that Toto and I were definitely not in Maryland anymore.

How Gold was my Valley

It's a gorgeous fall day here in Maryland, so I decided to take a walk through the woods somewhere.  I could have piled in the car and driven an hour or so to reach a park with hiking trails, but instead I just took the woodland path that starts at the end of my garden. 

See, my little house and garden are part of a deep wooded valley with a creek running along the bottom, at least during and after rains. Over the years the 30 or so neighbors who share this slice of heaven have cleaned out the old refrigerators and built a few bridges over the creek.  Kids and their dads have created forts and play areas.  There's finally a critical mass of neighbors who care about this little ecosystem, and we've almost liberated all the trees from their invasive vines.  There's a lot more to do on that score but with enough organized workdays, it'll happen.

Now some of you have posted lovely photos of not only natural views from your homes but from even your office windows, and I've been jealous as hell.  But if you'll allow me some bragging rights of my own, this woodland paradise is waay inside the beltway and only 12 minutes by subway from Capitol Hill, which makes living in a large metropolis just about okay with me.

The Great Outdoors

The current PBS special "Why Dogs Smile and Chimpanzees Cry"  tells the story of a group of chimpanzees who, after living for 15 years in a university science building, were finally moved to a new outdoor facility.  One chimp in particular, upon looking out onto the large sunlit play area, ran first to his keeper to sign the words "Thank you" before venturing out to explore his new home.  That moving scene reinforced my empathy for captive animals of such intelligence and sensitivity, an empathy that's sometimes painful to experience.  I know you animal-lovers know what I'm talking about.

But beyond that, the chimp was expressing a love of nature and the outdoors that I believe is innate in all of us animals, humans included.   It's what makes working indoors - for me - such a trial to be endured.  It's what I imagine was the hardest part of being in prison for our gardener friend, Martha Stewart. It's what forces me, when the weather is gorgeous like it is now, to spend every single minute I can enjoying it, rather than, say, going to a movie or even grocery-shopping.  And what I don't understand is why everyone doesn't feel that way.  How about the couch potatoes or the kids who play video games on a beautiful day?  Is love of nature and the outdoors something that's bred out people in our culture?  Maybe I should be asking the coach potatoes, not other gardeners; you'll all just agree with me, right?

Glued to the Pandacam

If you respond to animals in a completely sappy, anthropomorphic way - like I do - it's hard to see them in captivity.  Thankfully, these days zoos provide kinder habitats for the animals, and it's not so heartbreaking to see them.  My sister and I had a terrific visit to the National Zoo yesterday and were at least as delighted as the kids.

The zoo's undisputed megastar right now wasn't available for viewing, but he's right here on the Web and we can watch him 24/7.  Of course I'm talking about our 11-week-old panda boy, not yet named but well known to the entire metro populace.  Check him out on the fabulous Pandacam, but you're warned: If he and his mom and awake and doing anything, you won't be able to stop watching.