The ever-present nature of shrubs plays an important role in creating habitat for wildlife. Their multiple persistent trunks allow them to maintain a year-round presence, even when other plants have senesced, creating a structure and stature in the landscape and shelter utilized by a huge variety of creatures. Conveniently for hungry animals, because of these persistent states, shrubs are also unmatched at holding onto fruit and seeds well into the winter months.</p> As my colleague Michael Guidi highlighted in his 2023 October Walking Tour “Ornamental Fruit: Berries, Drupes and Pommes,”</strong></a> colorful fruiting shrubs are excellent aesthetic additions to the winter garden, in addition to their extensive benefits for wildlife. But there are also less conspicuous fruits and seeds to be found throughout the world of winter shrubs with just as important an ecological role to fill. </p> Although the plants listed below can all be found in the Laura Smith Porter Plains Garden</strong>, this isn’t so much a tour along a specific route but a call to notice. Wander the gardens with your mind open to flashes of fluff and texture held above tawny and darkened winter stems.</p> Amorpha fruticosa</strong></em> (false indigo bush)</strong>While the dark maroon flowers of false indigo bush stun throughout the summer, the abundant latte colored seedheads offer important forage for songbirds throughout winter.</li> Atriplex canescens</strong></em> (fourwing saltbush)</strong>The fourwing saltbush is dioecious, meaning that different individuals have different sexes. You’ll need a female plant to produce the seeds that are enjoyed by a large variety of wildlife, but fret not if your bush isn’t producing seeds. Studies have shown that these shrubs have fluid biologies that allow them to switch between sexes as needed.</li> Ericameria nauseosa</strong></em> (rubber rabbitbrush)</strong>Rubber rabbitbrush is one of the most common and important shrubs of the Front Range. Following their late-autumn ochre blooms, they set thousands of seeds, which they hold atop their waxy stems.</li> Krascheninnikovia lanata</strong></em> (winterfat)</strong>The seeds of winterfat are so named because of their high levels of protein and ability to sustain small and large mammals throughout the winter months. Their dense seedheads resemble furry candles.</li> </ul> If you’re interested in incorporating shrubs into your garden and exploring inspirational shrublands throughout the world, be sure to check out the book that Michael Guidi and I wrote, “Shrouded in Light: Naturalistic Planting Inspired by Wild Shrublands.”</strong></a> Available in the Shop at the Gardens</strong></a> and at a number of online retailers.</p> </p> Gallery photos by Kevin Philip Williams</em></p>
Natural history collections have served as libraries of our world’s biodiversity for centuries. These libraries—holding plants, fungi and insects—are known as herbaria. There are over 3,565 herbaria worldwide and each contain important collections from their respective regions of the world. For instance, Denver Botanic Gardens houses the largest collection of macrofungal specimens from the southern Rocky Mountain region in the entire world. Because of this regional emphasis, scientists from other places who are interested in species we hold request loans of our specimens. Sending a loan is like a library lending you a book for an entire year. Scientists peruse our available online data and request physical specimens to sample and study when the scientific questions require it.</p> To give you an example of a loan, a few weeks ago the Gardens sent willow specimens to Quebec, Canada for a student who is trying to understand evolutionary relationships among different species of willow trees (Figure 1). If previous scientists hadn’t invested the time to collect willow specimens, that student would have to figure out how to travel across the world to collect samples from plants in the wild. Similarly, several fungal specimens were sent to Spain to elucidate the nature of the pigments in earth tongues (Neolecta </em>sp.) (Figure 2). We also request loans from other institutions. One of our graduate students here at the Gardens has requested Jacob’s Ladder (Polemonium </em>sp.) from over 10 other herbaria to study the volatile compounds produced by the plant. These are just a few examples of the more than 30 active loans our Natural History Collections</a> are facilitating (Figure 3).</p> Herbaria are constantly utilized for their regional collections and frequently send specimens off to curious researchers. Even in our digital age, where data is readily available online, some scientific questions can only be answered by sampling and studying the actual plant or mushroom specimen. Lending our specimens out is one of many ways the Gardens is contributing to science aimed at answering our burning questions about biodiversity on a global scale.</p> This article was contributed by Collection's Assistant Matthew Sheik</strong>.</em> </p>
I was lucky enough to grow up in Colorful Colorado, where spending time outdoors was the daily norm. Apart from the pansies on my front porch, the tomatoes in my backyardand the cottonwood trees I knew I was allergic to, I remained largely unaware of the diverse species of plants surrounding me — a phenomenon known as "plant blindness." It wasn't until I began pursuing a degree focused on plants that I started to recognize the variety and ecological importance of our flora.</p> Over the summer, I had an opportunity to combat plant blindness in my own way through my work as an intern specializing in plant records at Denver Botanic Gardens.Plant records involve documenting, mapping and verifying the location of each plant that enters the Gardens. Computer-generated maps of the Gardens are created using a system called BG Maps, which connects with AutoCAD and integrates with BG Base. BG Base stores all data collected about a plant, including its identity, date acquired and source and links this information to its precise location.</p> My work primarily saw me mapping plants in the areas affected by recent renovations, updating data on existing plants and inputting information about new plantings. I worked closely with the horticulturists and curators of these gardens: Sonya, of the Birds and Bees Walk, and Amy, of June’s PlantAsia. My responsibilities included recording each plant's location, condition and phenology on paper maps, which were later transferred onto the computer. This stored data enables horticulturists to monitor plants and their growth patterns. Most importantly, these maps connect to GardensNavigator.</p> Gardens Navigator</a> makes information about the plants in each garden accessible to the public. Visitors can use it to find specific plants, locate plants in bloom or identify unlabeled plants. By transforming abstract plant data into an interactive and educational experience, plant records encourage greater awareness and appreciation of the plantsaround us, bringing us one step closer to reducing plant blindness.</p> This article was contributed by Taylor Archer</strong>, a student at the University of Arizona pursuing a major in landscape architecture. Originally from Greenwood Village, Colorado, Taylor was drawn to Tucson for its unique desert flora. She plans to further her education by obtaining a master’s degree in landscape architecture after completing her bachelor’s degree.</em> </p>
I was lucky to grow up in a family who had a fondness for art and nature. Frequent trips to various museums, zoos and to Denver Botanic Gardens helped me grow this affection myself –especially when the Denver Art Museum had an exhibit on Monet and his waterlilies in 2019. When I discovered this Waterlily Registration Internship, I just knew I had to apply. </p> Most of my efforts this past summer during my internship surrounded the idea of hybridized waterlilies. Three major projects I was tasked with were taking photos and notes on this year's competition waterlilies, registering waterlilies through the International Waterlily and Water Gardening Society</a> (IWGS) and attempting to make my own hybrid waterlily.</p> For the IWGS New Waterlily Competition, hybridizers send their waterlilies to participating botanic gardens, where they are documented over an eight-week period with growers’ notes and photos. After those eight weeks are up, the information is sent to international judges who determine a winner in the fall. Most hybridizers enter for publicity purposes, since customers are more likely to buy from them if they’ve won an award. This year we grew hardy and hardy x tropical lilies for hybridizers from Thailand, China, France, Germany and the United States. The judges typically look for interesting flower shapes and colors, growth habit, new leaf color or pattern and uniqueness.</p> Some hybridized waterlilies at the Gardens are not registered through IWGS yet, so it was my job to collect data on those and enter it into the IWGS system. Some of the data I collected included petal number, petal and leaf color, and flower and pad size. Those that have been registered are published in the IWGS 4th Quarter Journal. This is important to hybridizers because they can have their waterlily recognized in a publication, and it is also less likely that another hybridizer will use the same or a similar name in the future. </p> My last project focused on making my own hybrid. The process involved finding parent plants I liked the traits of, then taking pollen from a male flower and putting it into a female flower and labeling it. If the female flower developed a seed pod, I would put a bag over that seed pod and wait for it to explode the seeds into the bag. I realized that with waterlilies, not every cultivar is compatible. Most of my seeds were not viable, but I suppose part of the fun is finding out which cultivars lead to success. I am so glad I got to learn more about aquatic plants and the process of hybridization through interactions with the amazing staff and through trial and error. This was an incredible summer, and I am eternally grateful to Denver Botanic Gardens for letting me try my hand at waterlilies and connect to my inner Monet.</p> This article was contributed by Sophie Mantooth,</strong> a senior at Colorado State University majoring in horticulture with an emphasis in business. After graduation in December, she hopes to learn more about the world of horticulture through participating in WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) United Kingdom.</em> </p>
Directing the flow of water isn’t a new idea.</p> Humans have been changing the flow of water for thousands of years for our benefit, and oftentimes to our failure. Water is never truly wasted though, it is always in a cycle of evaporation (and transpiration by plants), condensation and precipitation. What is wasted is the energy it takes to treat and move water to where we need it.</p> Forethought when designing our landscapes can save us time, money and precious water. We protect our homes by making sure that water drains away from its foundation; water is valuable though, so where is it draining to? Often, it runs off and into the stormwater system. </p> Designing landscapes to catch and hold water presents an opportunity to use water more sustainably. We can eliminate or reduce the need to irrigate the landscape with the (treated) potable water pumped to our houses. Where do you start if you want to build sustainability into your landscape? Gravity is all you need; water runs downhill.</p> Make observations of existing conditions.</strong></p> Where are there impermeable surfaces?</p> Roofs, driveways and sidewalks are the biggest surfaces.</li> Where are the downspouts? What sections of the roof are the downspouts responsible for?</li> Plan landscaping around downspouts fed by the largest sections of roof.</li> </ul> </li> How can you collect water from the driveway? Installing a channel drain can divert water into a garden bed</li> </ul> </li> What are the existing elevations-during a precipitation event, where does the water flow?</li> What are the soil conditions?</li> </ul> Develop a plan.</strong></p> It is certainly helpful to know the big picture plan for a landscape design, but it’s also more realistic to take simple and small steps towards that goal.</li> Creating berms and swales is a simple way to slow water. Which plants prefer the swale (wet), and which prefer the berm (dry)?</li> </ul> </li> Elevate pathways for easier maintenance, and direct water into adjacent beds. Or create lower beds because hardscapes are difficult to move.</li> </ul> </li> Use French drains</a> to direct water where it's most useful.</li> Use rain barrels to store water</a> for dry periods (2-55 gallon barrels are legal in Colorado).</li> </ul> We’re constructing a large-scale water catching and rain garden system at Chatfield Farms. Our new parking lot and Welcome Center will make the gardens much more accessible, while also draining water into swales and depressions to make use of as much precipitation as possible. </p> Brad Lancaster</a> has an abundance of knowledge on this topic in his books and online if you'd like to learn more. </p> Photos by Erik Howshar except as otherwise noted.</em> </p>
It can be easy to think of a garden as separate from its surrounding environment. After all, the plants in a garden are predominately selected, grown and managed by human hands, a far cry from the myriad ecological factors that shape wild plant communities. Despite this difference, the boundary between a garden and its surroundings is far from impermeable. Under the right conditions, introduced garden plants can escape and start growing in nearby areas where they don't naturally occur. Though infrequent, these garden escapees can become invasive, potentially harming the local environment, economy or human health.</p> To reduce the risk of unintentionally introducing invasive plant species through the ornamental plant trade, Denver Botanic Gardens monitors a list of ornamental plants with traits similar to those of known invasive species. As the Watch List Species Intern, I helped collect data on these “watch list” plants to help determine the invasive potential of these species. Data collection consisted of several components. Watch list plants were mapped throughout the Gardens (with a great deal of assistance from horticulturists) to assess their spread and the effectiveness of control measures. This information was then entered into the Gardens’ database for its living collection so that it can be referenced at any time in the future.</p> Next, watch list plants were collected to be preserved as herbarium specimens</a>. These specimens can then be used to confirm the identification of watch list plants as well as document where that species is located at the time of collection. The final portion of my internship was conducting weed risk assessments for several watch list plants. A weed risk assessment consists of 40 yes-or-no questions about the plant’s life history, climate tolerance and known ecological or economic impacts. A score is generated based on the answers to the questions, which can then be used to estimate the invasive potential of a plant.</p> Contributing to the watch list project as an intern at the Gardens was both a rewarding and revelatory experience. The amount of work done behind the scenes to ensure that plants in the Gardens’ living collections are responsibly selected and managed is truly awe inspiring. Moreover, learning from experts in horticulture and ecology at the Gardens was an incredible opportunity, and it was a privilege to do so while helping to address an important issue facing the horticulture industry.</p> This article was contributed by Seth Polich</strong>. He recently graduated with a master's degree in biology from West Chester University of Pennsylvania, where he also cared for the university's teaching greenhouse. Originally from the Colorado Springs area, he is happy to be back exploring the diverse flora of his home state. </em> </p>
Three Google searches. That is all it took. Next thing I know, I am driving three days to get to Denver to spend my summer working as the Bonsai and Shofu-en Japanese Garden Intern. My internship at Denver Botanic Gardens was a busy one – two mentors, three projects and four other interns to embark on other activities with – but it taught me a lot, and this knowledge will stay with me for the entirety of my horticultural career. </p> Half of my summer was spent in the Bonsai Pavilion</a>, working with bonsai legend of the West (according to my second Google search), Larry Jackel. He taught me the know-how of all things bonsai, such as pruning, wiring, styling and more. With Larry, I had two projects: photograph and document all the bonsai in the collection and upload them into the Gardens’ database for record-keeping, and to somehow style my first bonsai tree. I also helped “reset” the pavilion (moving trees around, putting new ones on show). I created an Excel spreadsheet to document the pots in the collection. My bonsai tree project included unwiring, rewiring, and restyling a much bigger tree that has been in development for the past few years.</p> The other half of my summer was spent in the Shofu-en Japanese Garden</a>, this time working with former Gardens bonsai intern-turned-curator (that was found in my third Google search), Henry Basile. With Henry, I had one simple project: to photograph and document all of the Ponderosa pines in the Japanese Garden. Instead of recording these in the official database, I created what will be used as a tree worksheet, a logbook of any maintenance, tie-downs and any other grower notes on the tree. On days when I was not doing project work, I was in the Japanese Garden with Henry helping needle, prune or give haircuts to whichever tree was our chosen subject for the day.</p> This internship has provided invaluable hands-on experience to supplement my college education. Over the summer I had the opportunity to attend plant family classes and workshops and explore on field trips around Colorful Colorado with my fellow interns. I ignited a new bonsai passion, joining the Rocky Mountain Bonsai Society and racking the brains of experienced artists. Most importantly, I gained a new perspective from my mentors: “You may not stay in bonsai, but you will always look at trees differently.” I have already seen this to be true. This has reassured me that I am on the right path with a career in public horticulture. </p> This article was contributed by Hunter Fosko</strong>, a senior at Auburn University majoring in horticulture with an emphasis in landscaping, while working to acquire a certificate in public horticulture. After graduating in May, she hopes to continue exploring the world of horticulture through a career path in botanic gardens or in state or national parks.</em> </p>
As we move from October to November, we see the end of many of our visitors’ favorite time of year at the Gardens. With fall color fading and Halloween displays ending, we see gardens and gardeners take a rest during this quieter season. I urge you to take some time to appreciate the change in the weather and season.</p> Within the Japanese language, the phrase “mono no aware” directly translates to “the feeling of things,” but has a deeper cultural meaning that my volunteers and I attempt to illustrate within 松風園 Shofu-en Japanese Garden. As opposed to the literal translation, the cultural translation that I have found used most often is “a sensitivity to ephemera.” To illustrate this idea, one might think of an individual crafting an ikebana arrangement, and the tendency of those in the art form to prefer the slightly opened bud to the twig in peak flower. </p> Traditions like momijigari (literally “red leaf hunting”) and the viewing of the short-lived cherry blossom flowers in spring are also based on this principle, and these plants are seen as more valuable for how short-lived their showy season is. Perhaps the most well-known example of this appreciation of transience is the traditional system of 72 kō</em> (候) or “micro seasons.” These seasons last an average of five days, and have distinct poetic descriptions such as “chrysanthemums bloom,” “crickets chirp by the door” or “maple leaves and ivy turn yellow.” This appreciation of change, though slightly melancholy, is something all plant-lovers can apply to any garden.</p> Starting from the Bill Hosokawa Bonsai Pavilion and Tea Garden, walk past the dry garden and through the main gate until you reach the connecting path. Looking southwest on a sunny day, the Cheesman Park pavilion and Mount Blue Sky can be seen.</li> Turning to the right and moving west, one can peek up under the canopy of two Amur maples (Acer tataricum</em>) and one Russian hawthorn (Crataegus ambigua</em>). Take a moment to look up from directly under these trees, appreciating the calligraphic structure of the maples and any remaining fruit on the hawthorn.</li> From here, move forward to our moon-viewing deck. Notice the stillness and reflection of the water and the tops of the needles of the ponderosa pines as they move in the wind, or perhaps look to the right to notice the remaining stems and seed heads of the lotus (Nelumbo</em>).</li> Directly behind this, there stands a large Ginkgo biloba</em>. Notice the characteristic golden leaves of this tree scattered about, and the way the veins of these leaves never intersect.</li> Moving to the west, take the stepping-stone path to the right. This space holds a large crabapple variety, Malus</em> × gloriosa</em> ‘Oekonomierat Echtermeyer’ with fruit that should be falling any day now. Notice the coarseness and sharp turns of the branches in this weeping tree.</li> Exiting the stepping-stone path, take a moment to appreciate the lines raked in the stone. Notice how they emulate ripples in water, and how they disappear as the wind blows and little feet explore the garden.</li> Moving west, walk through the gate and stop for a moment on the bridge to the east. Notice the brilliant white texture of these birch trees, and the water moving below.</li> Finally, enter the garden from the entrance across from the Laura Smith Porter Plains Garden. Listen to the sound of the water as it crashes down from the waterfall. Take a left and take a seat at the azumaya (gazebo). Notice the remaining petals on the chrysanthemums surrounding your seat and enjoy the rest of your autumn day in the Gardens.</li> </ul> </p> This article and photos were contributed by Henry Basile</strong>, assistant curator of the Japanese Garden. </em></p>
Have you heard about the Rocky Mountain Gardening Certificate Core Series? This is a comprehensive study of specific gardening practices for our unique Front Range region offered by the Gardens. Classes include soil preparation techniques, horticulture and basic plant science. It can be completed as a cohort in five months or by taking classes individually over a two-year period.</p> I was curious about what inspires people to take the Rocky Mountain Gardening certificate program, so I asked the latest cohort. Each had distinct reasons but similar passions and goals for investing the time and energy in completing the certificate in five months. The program is deeply rooted in fulfilling our mission to connect people with plants and promote the Gardens’ values. Recipients had this to say:</p> Diversity:</strong> “Weeding is a waste of time! I wanted to create a model low-maintenance urban garden with native trees and xeriscape and share the possibilities with neighbors and friends.”</li> Relevance:</strong> “I’ve always been amazed by the beautiful power of trees and never realized it could become a career path to nurture trees. Even though I’m a busy mom of four and help with the family business, the certificate course helped me realize a career goal. The instructors were great at answering questions.”</li> Sustainability:</strong> “The certificate course gave me a great toolbelt for working with native plants. It stimulated my interest in regenerative gardening practices.</li> Transformation:</strong> “I learned so much about the importance of soil and organic composting. I have a kitchen garden because cooking is my passion. I gained knowledge and confidence to figure out what has gone wrong and not give up with skills learned in the diagnosing problems classes.”</li> Stewardship:</strong> “I wanted to change my ‘do nothing but create water bills’ lawn and create a home space that showed stewardship of Earth values. I felt empowered to have discussions with my HOA and with yard experts after earning my certificate.”</li> And, with a vision for professional development:</strong> “I work with city residents who want to find cost-effective methods to improve their land. Now I feel confident that I can address their questions with reliable information and resources. People want to build ecosystems through smart gardening and now I know how to help them.”</li> </ul> The Rocky Mountain Gardening Certificate’s importance goes beyond knowledge and skills. Even though participants have individual goals, they are connected by a passion for the environment by wanting to support sustainable ecosystems and create healthy habitats. Find out more about the certificate</a>. </p>
