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plantcraft

    PLANTCRAFT

    How to Make a Fall Wreath for Stick Season

    A circle of branches can serve as a starting point for decorations through the year

    By

    Wreaths aren’t just a Christmas thing. At different times in history, their circular form has suggested eternity, or feminine power, as in the floral wreaths atop a maypole, or victory, as in the ancient Greeks’ crowns of laurels. A harvest version might suggest a farmer’s hopes or could be a way to brag about fall crops.

    In any case, right now your yard and garden just might be offering stray vines and branches that, as you clean up, can form the basis for a celebration of what Vermonters call “stick season” — when the leaves have fallen but the snow has not arrived.

    A walk will easily yield a worthy collection of the fallen pine cones and acorns, lingering crabapples, and dried flower heads of October. Now’s the time to build them into a wreath. Later, once winter is here, you can remove these fall elements and replace them with more wintery evergreens and berries.

    Harvest Wreath

    Tools needed:

    Pruners
    Floral wire and snips
    Nail or other wreath-hanging device

    1. Gather a selection of thin, pliable branches to wind into a wreath shape. Branches should be no thicker than the diameter of a pencil — you might need to clip off thick ends. Long vine branches like bittersweet and grapevine are perfect; thin whips of forsythia will work as well.

    2. Next, remove the leaves (or not; just know they’ll dry up and wither).

    3. Then, start with a single branch to bend and knot into a circle. Choose the longest branch but one that is flexible. Gently coax the thicker end into a curve, then bring the thin end around and twist and tie the ends together.

    4. Add more branches to hold the circular shape. Initially, you may need to hold the ends together, but as you add branches, the form begins to take shape and the branches will knot and tangle together. Keep adding and wrapping branches into the shape until it’s full.

    5. Hang your wreath on a wall to make sure the back lies flat; you may need to clip any wayward branches to make this happen.

    6. Once you’re happy with the shape, walk around your yard and garden and collect some perennial grasses, flowers gone to seed, crabapples, or any other element that suits you.

    7. Lay out the decorative elements before you compose your design. I like to group elements together to create cohesive layers of texture and color. You might make small sheaves of dried lavender or grasses. Here, I’ve threaded crabapples onto a string, for example. As you work, look back at the landscape for design inspiration. You might see swaths of yellow goldenrod tucked against a sea of marsh grasses, punctuated with a few dried seed heads for architectural interest. Replicating the patterns found in nature is a design trick to create both visual interest and a soothing place for the eye to rest.

    8. Use floral wire to bunch botanicals together, then attach them to the wreath. Don’t clip the wire too closely after you’ve tied things on. Allow enough to easily untwist and remove the bunches once you’re ready to update your wreath with cedar and pine boughs for winter.

    9. Hang your wreath and add any final touches — ribbon, dried fruit, or flowers. If you are lucky, your fall wreath will not only greet guests who come to your door, but you may also get some feathered visitors scoping out the offerings.

    PLANTCRAFT

    Gardening by the Moon

    Look to the sky before you dig in the dirt

    By

    I’ve been paying attention recently to an old gardening proverb that goes like this: “With the waxing of the Moon, the Earth exhales. With the waning of the Moon, the Earth inhales.”

    Living here on the Outer Cape, it’s easy to be aware of how the Moon controls the rise and fall of the ocean — our tides are visible evidence of this ebb and flow. But what this proverb refers to is the way the Moon also affects water within the Earth.

    That’s part of the idea behind the tradition of gardening by the Moon: to work in harmony with this natural cycle means planting on the days when water is pulled closer to the surface of the Earth and the light from the Moon is strong. Taking it a step further, some gardeners also follow the Moon’s astrological sign, noting its influence on gardening chores.

    Processed with VSCO with f2 preset

    The Moon moves through the 12 astrological signs of the zodiac every two to three days. Each sign is associated with an element — water, earth, air, or fire — that is said to lend the days particular attributes. Water and earth signs are considered the most fertile ones — so, those are the times to plant, while air bodes well for harvesting. And, of interest right now, when the Moon is in a fire sign, that’s the time to weed.

    As the moon moves through the signs of the zodiac, it does so in phases. As it’s waxing, moonlight is increasing, and as it wanes the light decreases. So, using an astrological calendar to determine when and what to plant or do in the garden requires referring both to what sign and to what phase the Moon is in.

    A perpetual calendar is a handy way to keep all this information in one place. Cut three circles from heavyweight paper, each one about an inch or so bigger than the last. Stack the three circles and use a paper fastener in the center to attach them.

    Gardening Notes by Phase

    Divide the smallest circle of your calendar into four sections, one for each Moon phase (two waxing quarters and two waning ones), noting the new and full Moons. Add notes for each phase:

    First Quarter: Increasing light initiates healthy leaf growth. Continue to plant above-ground crops, especially those that produce seeds outside their fruit: broccoli, spinach, lettuce, cauliflower.

    Second Quarter: Strong moonlight leads to healthy leaf growth. Good for above-ground bearing annuals with seeds that form inside the fruit: tomatoes, melons, peppers, peas, beans, squash.

    Full Moon: Gravitational pull is still strong, but decreasing moonlight forces energy down into the earth. Transplant or plant bulbs, perennials, root crops.

    Third Quarter: Complete all planting before the last quarter begins.

    Last Quarter: Decreased moonlight and gravitational pull. Time to prune, harvest, cultivate, fertilize. Mow the lawn. Weed in a fire sign.

    New Moon: Plant above ground crops during this phase. The strong gravity of the moon pulls water to the surface.

    Gardening Notes by Sign

    The largest circle is for the astrological signs and their characteristics. Write your gardening notes along the outer edge of the circle. A little research in the Small Farmer’s Journal and other almanacs can yield more details, but these are the basics:

    The water signs Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces are the most fertile signs for planting. Best for leafy, above-ground bearing annual crops: lettuces, chard, spinach, brassicas.

    The earth signs Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn are thought to encourage root growth, so they’re good ones for planting underground crops and transplanting.

    The air signs Libra, Gemini, and Aquarius are also considered the flower signs. Flowers and herbs love a Libra moon. Cultivate, harvest, can, and preserve in these signs.

    The fire signs Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius are considered barren. Plant crops grown for their seed during these signs. Prune fruit trees. And, in Leo, weed.

    Finally, the middle circle acts as the calendar; number this from 1 to 30 along the outer edge of the circle. To use your perpetual calendar, line up the date, Moon phase, and sign to reveal the garden chores for that day.

    PLANTCRAFT

    Plant-Printed Paper for Your Love Note

    Longer-lasting than a bouquet, and just as pretty

    By

    The 1840s saw the introduction of the mass-produced valentine in the U.S. We can thank Esther A. Howland, known as the “mother of the valentine,” for that. But even with store-bought all the rage, handmade cards were cherished for their charm. Shells, lace, flowers, and ribbons adorned these miniature folk-art pieces given to loved ones.

    A winter wander through the yard yields a small bounty for plant-printed valentines. (Photos Milisa Moses)

    If you, too, lean toward the homemade, look to the landscape to inspire your love notes. You’ll layer flowers and leaves between sheets of paper, secure the stack between two pieces of wood, and steam over simmering water. The plants’ colors, shapes, and textures will be left behind with ethereal, unpredictable, and beautiful results.

    Allow enough time for a backyard walk to gather ingredients, and a day to let the paper dry. Even on these wintry days, evergreen or dried leaves and seed heads will provide a pop of color.

    Paper from a sketchpad or watercolor pad works well. Cut it, and your flat pieces of wood, to any size that will fit easily into your pot, where your stack of pressed paper will steam. I used two 7-by-9-inch pieces of cedar siding. Later you can cut the paper to make cards and tags of various sizes.

    Imbue sheets of paper with floral silhouettes by layering and stacking the plants between two pieces of wood.

    Plant-Printed Paper

    Materials needed

    Large pot
    Two flat pieces of wood
    Good, thick paper
    Twine or wire
    Plant material
    Vegetable steamer or a large flat stone
    Water
    White vinegar

    1. Soak the paper in water with a splash of white vinegar for about an hour — this process, called “mordanting,” will help the color set to the paper fibers. Thick paper works best. Use a flat baking tray, dish, or your kitchen sink. While paper can be dried and stored for later use after mordanting, you will begin this project with wet paper.

    2. Place one piece of wood on a flat surface.

    3. Add a sheet of wet, mordanted paper. Arrange dried or fresh plant material on top. Try not to be too fussy or overthink the design, as the colors will bleed through and coalesce during the steaming process.

    4. Add the next sheet of paper and arrange plant material. Layer wet paper with plants until the stack is about 2 inches high, keeping in mind that everything will need to fit inside your pot.

    Steaming releases the chromophores, or color-producing agents, from the plant material.

    5. Place the second piece of wood on top and secure the stack tightly with twine or wire, using caution not to disrupt your arrangements.

    6. Meanwhile, fill a pot with a few inches of water. Place a vegetable steamer (or flat stone) inside the pot. Bring to a boil, lower heat to medium, then carefully place the bundle in the steamer (or on top of the stone so it is above water) and simmer for an hour with the lid on, rotating bundle halfway through.

    7. Allow to cool and carefully remove bundle from pot. Open bundle when completely cooled. A longer wait may yield deeper, more saturated colors. Remove plant material carefully from paper. Rinse paper and hang to dry. Plant materials can be composted or reused for more printing.

    8. Iron paper to press out any wrinkles and lay under a few heavy books to fully flatten. Your printed paper can be cut into various sizes for notes, cards, or tags.

    PLANTCRAFT

    Create a Palette of Colors From Nature

    Time-tested recipes for plant-based inks and paints

    By

    As winter draws near, we lose more leaves to the wind each day. The ones that remain give the landscape a patina of russet, sienna, ochre.

    Ink-making in progress. Dedicate tools and supplies to ink and paint-making and cover your workspace well. (Photos Milisa Moses)

    The ground is covered in fallen pine needles and brown oak leaves. A closer look reveals oak apples, or oak galls among them. These small, round growths form after a wasp has laid her eggs inside a developing oak shoot — the tree responds by growing plant tissue around the eggs. Oak apples protect the wasps during their season of growth. The pinprick hole in each gall marks the wasp’s exit. Once you know what they are, you see them, like tiny discarded homes scattered about the woods.

    In addition to their interesting relationship with wasps, oak galls have been used in ink-making recipes as far back as the Roman Empire. Iron gall ink was used for transcribing many important manuscripts and documents throughout history, including the 4th-century Codex Sinaiticus, a handwritten copy of the Bible.

    To create the ink, ground oak galls are soaked in water to achieve a dark brown, tannin-rich solution. Adding iron to the solution initiates a reaction that oxidizes the ink, so that as it is applied to paper, its color deepens.

    Test samples of plant-based inks from oak galls and staghorn sumac berries. The addition of iron or alum alters the color.

    The natural world offers many color possibilities for ink-making, even as plants begin their winter sleep. Consider acorns, bark, or berries to create a palette that is infused with the earth and soil of a place, that expresses the terroir of your landscape. Just make sure that, when walking the woods for ingredients, you forage responsibly and use caution when choosing plants; know what you’re working with.

    Plant inks are generally made by cooking down one part plant material with two parts water. Additives like iron can change the ink’s intensity. Baking soda, salt, or vinegar will alter the color. Alum (aluminum potassium sulfate) acts as a mordant, which bonds the color to the paper for longer-lasting color. Alum can also brighten colors. Agar gum (made from seaweed) will thicken or change the consistency — good for printing on textiles.

    A binder, like gum arabic (made from tree resin), acts as a glue to bind the color to the liquid, and to help make it more permanent. Add less binder if you’re using ink with a pen, as it will clog up the nib. Whole cloves, wintergreen oil, or thyme oil should be added to prevent inks from molding.

    Keep in mind that color can fade or change over time once it’s applied to paper or fabric, also called fugitive color. Be ready to experiment, but take good notes and document your recipes and results, because some of your inks will be beautiful.

    Staghorn sumac, Rhus typhina, with its cone of crimson berries, offers excellent color for ink.

    Basic Plant Ink Recipe

    Yields about 4 oz.

    Combine one cup water with ½ cup plant material, such as sumac berries, over medium-low heat. Bring just to a boil.
    Lower heat to simmer and stir often until liquid is reduced by at least half and color deepens.
    Allow to cool, then pour through a strainer to remove all plant material.
    Pour into ink bottles.
    Add gum arabic, if using.
    Add one clove per jar of ink to inhibit mold.

     

    Mark-making with oak gall ink.

    Oak Gall Ink Recipe

    Yields about 8 oz.

    Grind 1 oz. oak galls to a fine powder.
    Pour 8 oz. water over oak gall powder and soak overnight.
    Strain through fine cheesecloth.
    Add ½ oz. iron powder and stir well.
    Add a few drops of gum arabic, if using.
    Add one clove to inhibit mold.
    Once applied to paper, the ink darkens as it oxidizes.

    Note: this is acidic and may eat through paper over time.

    PLANTCRAFT

    Goldenrod for a September Salve

    Longer nights call forth flowers the color of autumn light

    By

    September, the golden month on Cape Cod. Sunrises and sunsets that linger in the mind’s eye with color and light. Solidago sempervirens, seaside goldenrod, is just beginning to open at Eastham’s First Encounter Beach. A walk at Fort Hill reveals multiple species in flower, like yellow fireworks that fell from the sky.

    There are 11 species of Solidago on Cape Cod, all bursting with bright golden flowers throughout late summer into fall, save one: silverrod, that is, Solidago bicolor. Its tiny flowers are white, crowded on long stalks with deep green leaves that travel up the entire length of the stem. But, for the most part, members of this species are hard to discern from one another; leaves, scent, and habitat can be clues.

    Seen on a walk at Fort Hill, goldenrod bends under its heavy flowers. (Photo Milisa Moses)

    Goldenrod is often confused with ragweed, a similar-looking plant that releases airborne pollen. Solidago’s pollen is sticky and heavy. Bees, wasps, and butterflies visit often, collecting nectar from the plant’s many flowers. Goldenrod’s late blooming season offers fodder for beneficial pollinators before winter hibernation.

    This herbaceous perennial thrives in a variety of habitats across our landscape — on dunes and meadows, roadsides and gardens. But you’ll see its flowers only once the days turn shorter and nights get longer. Also called photoperiodism, this response from both plants and animals is due to the amount of night sky they’re exposed to. Solidago’s reign over the landscape this time of year is a sign of fall to come, summer made whole.

    Nights lengthen. The sun begins to dip lower in the sky. As the month moves closer to the equinox, yellow flowers fade to a dull ochre fire, seeds carried off by the wind. Rhizomes have spread underground. Next spring, these newcomers will grow inconspicuously throughout the landscape until the longer nights arrive, once again calling forth a riot of golden flowers.

    In Latin, solidago means “to make whole,” and the plant was used to treat multiple ailments in traditional medicine. Indigenous Americans used it as a remedy for toothache, fever, and cough, besides using it as a dye to create shades of yellow. Natural dyers still work with this plant today.

    Its anti-inflammatory qualities make goldenrod an important ingredient in a soothing salve for sore muscles. This one is made by first infusing a skin-nourishing oil with the flowers.

    Goldenrod Salve

    Goldenrod wants sunshine. It grows on dunes, meadows, and roadsides

    The infused oil is simple to do but will take a few weeks to be ready. Then you’ll melt beeswax, mixing it into the infused oil to make the salve. One part beeswax to four parts oil is the traditional ratio; increase the oil for a softer texture. It’s good to have a heatproof glass measuring cup reserved for the melting and mixing.

    Goldenrod tips and flowers

    About 2 cups oil

    4 oz. beeswax

    A quart mason jar

    Cheesecloth

    A large glass measuring cup

    Tins or jars for the salve

    Harvest a large basket full of plant tips and flowers, and let them dry in a well ventilated place until crunchy. Chop into small pieces and pack them into a sterile quart-size mason jar.

    Cover the flowers with jojoba oil or any heat-safe, skin-nourishing oil (almond or olive are also good). Cap with the lid and place the jar in a sunny spot for a few weeks, shaking daily.

    Strain the oil through cheesecloth to remove the flowers and plant material. Add one part beeswax and four parts infused oil to a heatproof glass measuring cup. Place cup in a pot with water, creating a double boiler. Melt wax and oil over very low heat. Carefully pour into sterile jars or tins and allow to cool before capping.

    PLANTCRAFT

    Plant Matter to Dye For

    Mix solar rays and garden clippings for earthy fabric hues

    By

    Solar dyeing starts with a gathering: deadheaded blooms, freshly unfurled petals, bright green leaves. Dyer’s Coreopsis, Queen Anne’s lace, and Rudbeckia. My garden shears make quick work of the task. Collecting flowers as I move throughout the yard, I drop them into clear glass Mason jars, creating a menagerie of colors.

    The sun converts plant matter into dye. (Photos Milisa Moses)

    Before capping the jars, I give the flowers’ previous residents some time to move on — spiders and insects crawl up and out, looking for new digs.

    I find a sunny spot outside on the deck to place the jars and their precious cargo. I fill each jar with water, cap tightly, and shake. And then I let the sun work its magic. I watch, and wait a day for the color to develop.

    Meanwhile, I prepare a mordant. Mordant means “biting” in French; the mordant allows the dye to bite into the fiber, creating a more permanent color. So, while there’s really nothing to putting together plant-based colors, mordanting is what you need to do to make the colors work as dyes.

    The heat created in the jars allows for the release of color compounds found in the plant material, if they are present. Not all plants will produce color, and not all color, once produced, is permanent. Some plant dyes do not need a mordant to bond with fiber — these are known as substantive dyes. Dyes that require a mordant are adjective dyes — their color will fade if no mordant is used. Some plant-based colors are even referred to as fugitive, that is, fleeting. They reveal themselves initially, only to change and fade over time.

    Discovering what color each plant will produce is where alchemy meets experimentation.

    Notes and fabric samples lead to just the right hue.

    While the colors emerge, I hunt through closets and drawers for T-shirts, tea towels, and napkins to mordant.

    Then, after leaving the flowers and leaves to soak in the sun for a day, I add the prepped fabric, removing plant material to make room, if needed.

    I wait a few days. The sun makes a few rounds. And then, the reveal: I uncap the lids and slowly begin the messy task of pulling everything out of the jars. The flowers and leaves can be used again for another round of dyeing, or dried and saved for creating color later on.

    I rinse the remaining petals and leaves from my newly transformed laundry pile, and marvel at the deft hands of the sun.

    Mordant

    needed to prepare your fabric

    Fill a bucket with enough water to cover fabric.

    Wearing gloves and a mask, add alum (5 to 10 percent of weight of fiber) to a cup.

    Slowly pour one cup of boiling water into the alum and stir until fully dissolved.

    Pour the alum solution into the bucket and stir thoroughly.

    Add fabric and stir.

    Soak for 45 minutes, stirring often. Remove and rinse. (Reuse your alum bath multiple times; cover with an airtight lid and store. Or water your acid-loving plants with it.)

    PLANTCRAFT

    Journaling With Flowers: Creating an Herbarium

    Preserve some wonder from your garden or favorite walk

    By

    By the time Emily Dickinson was 14 years old, she had compiled a collection of over 400 pressed flowers and leaves. “Have you made an herbarium yet?” she wrote to a friend in 1845. “I hope you will, if you have not, it would be such a treasure to you.”

    An herbarium is a garden journal for recording and preserving what you’ve grown or admired: leaves, flowers, or seed heads. It is a place to document the plants along a favorite walk, a special spot, or simply the assortment found in your yard.

    Dried flowers and an empty journal begin to come together as an herbarium. (Photos Milisa Moses)

    There are times, even in these weighted days, where a wink of color on the ground offers a short, sweet moment of wonder. From a carpet of plants in the woods to a dandelion popping out of a crack in the pavement, these are opportunities for amazement, tiny gifts from the natural world. Harvest plant specimens on a dry day, after the morning dew has evaporated. Plan to preserve only healthy leaves and flowers that are free from blemishes. Use a soft paintbrush to gently remove pollen.

    The simplest way to preserve flowers and leaves requires nothing more than an old book. Choose one that is large and weighty. Place the plant material between the pages, being careful not to let plant material overlap. Move to a fresh, new section of the book every three to five days; it should take about two to three weeks for your harvest to dry.

    For larger specimens, create a simple flower press using two pieces of wood, cardboard, and paper. See instructions below.

    While the plant material is curing, assemble your herbarium: find a large notebook or journal, preferably with blank pages. Decide whether you’d like to arrange your collection alphabetically, stylistically, or spatially in your herbarium. Then prepare the pages by documenting any plant information that’s pertinent to you, including where and when it was harvested, how it was preserved, and where it normally grows.

    If what you’re preserving has come from a place you’ll return to over time, allow some extra pages between entries for adding more specimens of the plant as it progresses through the growing season.

    Once the plant material has fully dried, use linen or cotton tape, conservation glue, or hand-stitching to affix specimens to the sheets of your herbarium.

    To Make a Flower Press
    and start preserving your harvest

    You will need:
    Two pieces of wood or plywood cut to about 10 x 12 inches
    10 sheets of cardboard cut to 10 x12 inches
    50 sheets of clean, paper, 10 x 12 inches
    A drill
    Four bolts, at least 4 inches lon
    4 wing nuts to fit the bolts

    Cut two pieces of plywood to approximately 10-by-12-inch rectangles, stack them, and drill a hole in each corner, through both pieces, for the long bolts to go through. Mark one board as top and one on the bottom to ensure the bolt holes always line up when assembling.

    Herbs dry on a homemade press over the course of a couple of weeks.

    Cut a dozen cardboard pieces to the same size as the boards, and trim off the corners so the sheets of cardboard will nestle in without hitting the bolts.

    Place bottom piece of wood onto work surface, followed by a piece of cardboard. Then add five sheets of paper.

    Carefully arrange specimens, spreading out leaves and buds so that there’s at least an inch between different pieces of plant material.

    Neatly add more layers of paper and a piece of cardboard, keeping placement of corner holes aligned. Then, add another five sheets of paper, along with the next set of plants. Add paper, cardboard, and continue layering.

    Once finished, carefully place top piece of plywood on the pile. Line up the bolt holes and insert bolts into corners.

    Add wing nuts and tighten; slowly working your way around instead of tightening a single corner at once. Use caution not to move the press or layers as you go.

    Once the press is tightened, place in a dark, dry, well-ventilated spot for 3 to 5 days.

    Carefully open the press and replace papers and cardboard, rearranging in the same pattern. Set aside the paper and cardboard you’re removing to dry them out and use again later.

    Repeat every few days until the plant material is dry, approximately 2 to 3 weeks.

    Store your finished herbarium and saved plant material out of sunlight in a dry spot.

    Emily Dickenson’s Herbarium is preserved at Harvard’s Houghton Rare Book Library. It cannot be viewed because it is too fragile, but it has been digitized and may be viewed online via the library’s archive.

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