LSU Hilltop Arbo tours Crosby, Hammond Station, and Meadowmakers Farm

The Hilltop Arboretum will be hosting a tour of three significant gardens in southeastern Louisiana and southwestern Mississippi(both sides of the Pearl River) on Thursday, April 10. It promises to be a fun and informative event. Hope you can be in that number!


above: Pitcher Plant flowers Sarracenia alata

Click on the link below for details.

a carnivorous wonderland

Imagine a place where venus fly traps grow by the tens of thousands, the clear-white flowers littering the green grassy ground as far as the eye can see. A place where the linear, pencil thick fuzzy foliaged Club Moss, a fern relict of the flora of the dinosaurs still thrives. Dime-sized carnivorous Sundews are everywhere, poking their tiny white flower spikes high above their rosette. Where the lipstick pink flowers of native orchids have grown for a thousand years. The coastal Mississippi peat bog is where you’d be. Its where the soldier-erect leaf-scapes of highly evolved Pitcher Plants, ancient plants, scattered in various patterns punctuated by the occasional charred stump of an old pine and the toasty-crispy burnt stems of some unfortunate shrubs that happened to be a little too flammable to survive here. You’d be atop a deep layer of peat and sphagnum: the highly acidic coastal bog of the great state of Mississippi.

This vision is one that I have still, burned into my memory. It was, at one time, a reality. It was, and maybe still is, the 30 acre Pearl River County Mississippi bog of Mr. Coleman and Mrs. Freda Tarnok.


above: Mr. Coleman Tarnok, photograph from the article by Jeanette Hardy, Times-Picayune, May 12, 2000, titled, Pretty Pitchers  (click on the photo to enlarge)

Not sure if the place is still there. Last contact I had was a call I made to his daughter about two or three years after Mr. Coleman passed. Mrs. Freda had preceded him in death by a few years and I had only on a few occasions, met his son Richard.

My first introduction to the Tarnocs was through Bob Brzuszek, who came on board at the Crosby Arboretum as Curator in 1990. Bob invited me along. We jumped into his pick-up and off we went, to see what all the fuss was. Bob had been in touch with the Tarnoks before that. It was my first visit. The place was a sight for sore eyes, as my Mom would say.


above: a photo from the Picayune Item Newspaper October 21, 1992.  Bob Brzuszeck, Coleman Tarnok, Jane McKinnon, and myself. Bob was picking up Frog Belly pitchers for one of the first Crosby plant sales.

Mr. Coleman was quite a character. A fifth generation florist whose family came from Hungary, he had married Mrs Freda and settled down into the country life in the tiny community of Carriere, about an hour’s drive north into Mississippi from New Orleans. He once told me that he had started raising a few cows, but his cows kept getting stuck in the bogs and he’d have to pull them out so he needed something different to do in that spot other than grazing livestock. He settled on building a wold-class collection of Pitcher plants, species of the Sarracenia genus. And that he did.

Being a fellow who relied of foliage for sustain his livelyhood, he saw opportunity in growing and providing pitchers for sale in the wholesale florist market. After all, he had established many crops from which to harvest either foliage or flower. The Tarnoks had rows of southern magnolia, ornamental cherries and various other shrubs and trees used for cutting, established on drier slopes on the farm. I remember once walking with him to this super-cool spot. The scent of Mexican primrose filled the air, as the plants of this delicious delicacy were lined up neatly, in perfect white rows that took the contour of the hillside. HMr Coleman also grew White Yarrow and Sweet William as a cut flower crop. The Magnolias, though, were most odd and memorable. They had been matter-of-factly trimmed for many years for their foliage in order to make garlands, stripped as it were for weddings and for Christmas decoration. What remained were these tall green collums, pillar-like verticals, twelve or fifteen feet high and about three feet in diameter. Something you’d see done purposefully at Disney World. An odd sight it was, let me tell you. I wish that I had a photograph of that planting today.

Mr. Coleman had collected many different native azalea species and unique selections of species over the years (he claimed he had “fifty different kinds”) and had these in rows, too, for the purpose of cultivating bud clusters for shipping to some of the most renown wholesalers in the country and the world. It was always amazing to me that these plants were very so lush and vigorous, considering that they’d been cut so drastically for their flowers. This taught me that it is really hard to hurt a native Rhododenron with a pair of pruning shears.

Over the years Mr. Coleman collected all of the pitcher species he could find. This was in the pre-internet days, so he didn’t just google it. He wrote letters and communicated on the phone with people who told him about another who had this or that species or species variation. He would then travel to pickup a batch to plant at the farm. That’s what Mr Coleman did. He traveled and dug and then brought plants back home and planted. And then he nurtured. He did this for many years.

By the time I came along, it was “thirty years ago” when he had planted the first plants and he had burned and kept open, the bog, by way of fire. The bog had rewarded his efforts by multiplying the numbers a hundred thousand-fold. Some the plants had begun, over many years, to cross-pollinate, to hybridize. This crossing had produced a number of unique and very significant variations. It was a mind blowing experience to behold all of the different characteristics of the plants in that field. His pride and joy cultivar was a single plant: a hybrid of the western Mississippi-Alabama-Florida panhandle species, Sarracinnia Leucophylla and another unknown parent. The plant had a double flower. As far as I know (at least, he told me back then that), its the only double blooming pitcher plant known to exist: Sarracennia leucophylla Variety “Tarnoc”.

My personal favorites were always the taller-than-normal strain of the White Pitcher, Sarracinnia leucophylla. Taller because it had crossed with Sarracenia flava, the tallest pitcher species, producing a nearly all-white foliage-scape sporting purple venation. Talk about a cool plant! It came almost up to my hip in height.

Mr. Tarnok told me once of how wholesalers in Holland were building acres of glass houses in which to house and preserve his coveted plants. He would ship to Holland each year. His stories were so incredible. But I believed him. He told me they only shipped pitchers in the spring when they were newly emerged from the fire, before they got loaded up with bugs. Pitchers are carnivorous and have a good appetite for insects. He liked to tell you that “Ron Determann of the Atlanta Botanical Garden buys from me all the time!” Another story he liked to tell was when he had guests who he didn’t know well or ones he suspected that they might “lift” something, he’d say “we would tell them to clap their hands to whole time they toured the greenhouse so we’d know they weren’t putting plants in their pockets”.

I have some great memories of trips to the Tarnok’s. I brought my Mom and friend-client Grace Newberger there once just before they teamed-up to paint a bog-inspired mural on the walls of my new house addition. I organized several field trips over the years to the Tarnok farm. I would bring anyone who would go with me. I recall Kim Hawks and Scott Ogden visiting once and I believe that is how Mr. Coleman got the double flowering cultivar into cultivation, by way of Kim’s cajoling and superior knowledge about plant tissue culture. Today you can google Tarnok and commonly see the double flowering pitcher for sale.

The Tarnoks had the hooded Pitcher (S. Minor), the Frog Belly pitcher (S. purpurea), the Parrot pitcher (S. psittacenia), the Pale pitcher (S. alata), the White pitcher, the Sweet pitcher (S. rubra), and the Yellow pitcher, (S. flava) and a whole lot of hybrids.

I took plant explorer-nurseryman Dan Hinkley, of Heronswood Nursery, there once. He was impressed and he quickly told the queen of theme Martha Stewart who sent  an eight man team of designer-photographer-types from Manhattan to the bog for a magazine shoot.

Most fondly though are the memories of walking the bog with the Tarnoks and sharing it with some of my plant friends. Although that bog is one that anyone can identify with.

I guess its been about ten or twelve years since he has passed, and I have just heard yesterday that the Mr. and Mrs. Tarnok’s daughter Linda is maybe (possibly) restoring this Mississippi botanical gem. I sure hope that its true. To see that field of fly traps and pitchers again would be such a treat.


above: Sarracenia minor


the species distribution range of S. minor


above: the White pitcher, Sarracenia leucophylla


range of S. leucophylla


above: Parrot pitcher, Sarracenia pstittacina (click to enlarge photo)


range of Parrot’s pitcher


above: the chartreuse foliage of Pale pitcher, Sarracenia alata


the range of S. alata


above: untypical, dark foliaged Yellow pitcher, Sarracenia flava


range of S. flava


above: the Frog Belly pitcher, Sarracenia purpurea


distribution of the Frog Belly pitcher


typical flowers of S. alata


typical S. leucophylla flower

DCF 1.0

the double-flowered S. leucophylla hybrid “Tarnok”

The one thing I learned from Mr. Tarnok’s bog was how adaptable these plants are once established. Just add fire. pretty cool stuff.

good day!


design with meadow/how to unplow a prairie

Stop children, whats that sound, everybody look what’s going down.       Steven Stills, 1966, Buffalo Springfield

check this guy’s cool post about plowing prairie                        

Okay, so how does a person like me explain how to build a meadow garden in their back yard in an hour?

My challenge last Friday was to describe how best to go about building a meadow. My audience was a group of folks who were interested in horticulture, mostly.

I have designed a few meadow gardens. My favorite meadow isn’t necessarily the most beautiful one, or the biggest one or the most successful one. Its the garden of a friend and her artist husband who understand that their meadow garden is a process. She knows that it takes time to mature.

She is the garden enthusiast in the family. She looks at the one year old meadow as structure for raising wild things: critters and all. She doesn’t pay much attention to the “weeds”. She looks for the good stuff. After all, that’s the point in having a meadow: to enjoy nature’s gifts and to house and feed and enjoy watching and living amongst the wild things. Not every acre of land has to be mowed or paved, you know. She gets it. She doesn’t want to travel to a national forest a hundred miles away to see cool stuff. All she wants to know when I visit is that everything’s okay and that it is progressing as it should. I’m not too sure of what her neighbors think. She’s raised concern once or twice about this but I don’t think she should worry much about it. She lives at the dead-end of a road and its her and her husband’s property, after all. I wonder what the neighbors will think when they light the thing on fire come February. That aught to raise some eyebrows.

Its kind of funny how folks who don’t understand wild stuff bitch about it and want to “clean it up”. It reminds me of the story of when the Algonquin native Americans met the first Europeans, they were disgusted and grossed out by them. The Europeans stunk because the never bathed and they blew their noses into rags and carried them around in their pants pockets. The Algonquins couldn’t believe that people could be such “savages”!

The wife of this meadow-owning couple knows her plants pretty well and she actually wrote a very popular book on wildlife habitat gardening, so my salesmanship was not needed here; just my prairie seed and my prairie-meadow building skills.

She is always looking for the new plants that pop-up from the seed we planted, and gets really excited about many aspects of her garden. That makes me really happy. She looks deeper for the results from the plants. I mean, who would get excited about sawfly larvae eating the leaves of one’s hibiscus? She probably would. She knows that these are savored by the song bird. Who would let Hemp vine grow in abandon? She does. She told me she had a new appreciation for that plant once she realized that it is a host plant for the Little Metal Mark butterfly. Soon after, I took a different look at the Hemp vine in my own yard. I have left it wherever it grows and take in the delicately sweet scent when it blossoms, hoping it might make some butterflies happy.

At the Southern Garden Symposium this past week, I was asked to share some insights into designing a meadow garden. I showed some of my wildscaping work and did the best I could to direct folks to national, regional, and local Holy-Grail destinations.

I spoke of restored forests and prairies at the University of Wisconsin Arboretum’s 100 acre prairie gardens begun in the 1930’s ( I talked about the North Carolina Botanical Garden and the Crosby Arboretum in Mississippi, their interpretive and educational Centers. I talked about how the interpretive Centers are tiny facsimiles of their satellite natural area holdings, which are much-larger, extensive properties and representative of historical ecology. And I mentioned that they manage the interpretive center exhibits much like they do the natural areas. I talked about parts of the Bot Garden in Chapel Hill that are actually representative of the size of the typical back-yard, yet they are burned. This I said, is what is possible.

I talked about fire and how it is necessary if you are going to really give your meadow a fighting chance to survive. I talked about how we starve our landscape by suppressing fire. And how we have ecological amnesia when it come to the natural world. I talked about how all of these premiere botanical destinations are either in the city center or in serious liability situations yet they are burned. The Crosby and the Madison Arbo’s are both over one hundred acres of fire managed grassland just down the road from neighborhoods and interstate highways, yet they torch them annually.

I talked about the New York High Line and how a visionary found him or herself up on this derelict raised rail bed in Manhattan and saw the weedy vegetation that had settled in, via wind, as an inspiration for what master horticulturist Piet Udolf would eventually design into the nation’s most well-know and most popular urban meadow attraction. The design for the plantings along the High Line is based on the color, form, and texture of the American prairie.

I talked a little about seed collecting and plant identification and awareness for invasive plants. That may have been a little boring to some in the audience who were geared more to flowery plants and garden design.

I encouraged folks to learn more by going to these places to see first hand the interpretation of the grasslands, to see design and the natural patterns that occur when landscaping for diversity with wild-seed.

I will include here, some crude drawings that I showed at my Professor-buddy, Jim Foret’s garden group’s talk in the spring to suggest a couple of options when you are thinking of a meadow in the backyard (or in the case of my friend and her artist husband, the front yard). Again, these are a bit rudimentary but the simplicity is, I think, helpful when it comes to conceiving a design for a tiny micro prairie into your backyard. They took about five minutes each to do, so not a lot of emphasis was put on graphics but you get the point.


I like this one. Its a back yard about 50 by 30, with a small deck or patio off the back door. It has a circular walkway or path, through the the native shrub layer and into the meadow. Across the lawn and back again through the path on the other side of the yard that returns you to the deck. The very formal lawn adds organization to the scene and highlights to central area and is comfy on the feet.


Here, the lawn is surrounded by large and small shrubs and very small trees. the lawn encloses and encircles the round-shaped meadow. This design gives a wild feel with lots of dimension and loose, natural design


This one’s a bit futuristic, maybe, but it shows yet another way to think in terms of the lawn making a visual contrast to the focal point-meadow.


This is the most formally arranged design, with paths around and throughout. Much like a parterre garden. the plantings could be mixed and matched or very formally arranged with the meadow, diverse and scruffy.

check out this cool link about the Metal Mark butterfly

good day! enjoy!