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There are no big thoughts or great events that will flow in the paragraphs that follow, but hopefully a collection of a few smaller observations from this week that will be a bit helpful.

Several days ago someone brought me a large stem from a lilac bush. An archeologist might have better studied it than someone who grows things in the dirt. It was dead, with lots of insect borings and an ample crop of lichens to prove it.

After cutting out the dead stems the re-growth was not happy. Could it be the lichen growth on the old that was infecting the new growth? That answer is definitely no.

A bit of probing identified that the old bush had been a favorite long time roost for a significant number of regular birds. Doing what birds often do when they sit, I wondered if an accumulation of that had brought the soil to levels that made the plant unhappy, Possible, but I doubt it.

Then it was mentioned that there were white spots on it. That might suggest a good case of scale (a tough insect) that could be a big problem. They seem to like lilacs. A dose or two of horticultural oil or soapy water is about the only attack plan. They resist most insecticides but will succumb to clogged breathing pores from the above treatment.

Now might be a time to mention pruning multi-stemmed shrubs. A great approach is to remove some of the older stems on a regular basis. I can’t think of a single plant that produces stems that have great ornamental value by their seventh birthday. Twig dogwoods have their best winter color on new growth, so stems more than two years old are unappealing.

Another guideline to follow is that if the problem is seen on the new growth, you should look for insects. If it is on the older leaves, it is possibly nutrition or disease.

On the disease front, I was surprised at the slow recovery of the greenness of my lawn. Seems that this is a great weather year for grass fungus. Some suggest that the more fertilizer, more water, more happy the yard, the worse the problem. Mine is none of that and is pretty bad.

Waiting is the best approach to this problem. It will grow out of it when temperatures, moisture and humidity realign to the green grass mode. More water and fertilizer may aggravate the problem. Fungicides seem to have a fleeting influence, so are hardly worth the effort.

Speaking of water, a forceful closing to this sermon is needed. It rained. It rained a lot. We had over five inches and much of it went into the ground. Unless you had a whole lot less, and I doubt it, I offer the following.

If you have picked up the water hose since it rained you are watering way too much. I’m even still looking for a container that needs water. Right now, two or three days after the last storm, the emphasis is still on observation. Container watering may begin again later today or tomorrow.

In my vegetable garden the water is off and will remain off for a long time, hopefully the rest of the growing season. Now the attention is to the bounty of the harvest and the weeds that are trying to thrive with the newfound moisture. Right now a chunk of the garden’s first cantaloupe is waiting on the kitchen table. See you!

Last July when the government stuck their fingers into car sales we bought one of those gas/electric hybrids as a companion for an aging sedan. It was the beginning of a love affair.

To celebrate its first birthday we took it to the outer banks of North Carolina. It wasn’t its first time in North Carolina. In fact in its first year it visited 29 states. All but Rhode Island were intentional. We missed a turn in Massachusetts.

While near the outer banks we saw more black bear than bikinis. I’ll admit, we did not spend a lot time at the beach. Just enough time to find three or four birds that favor the ocean shore. There may have been several more shorebirds that could have been found there if we had lingered.

Instead we spent time off the shore at distances ranging from several hundred yards to maybe 15 miles. We visited Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge of course but also found a jewel in Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge.

Pea Island is the normal stop for wildlife in that area. The parking lot near the main hiking trail was full. On the other hand at Alligator, in about six hours, we met maybe five cars that weren’t refuge employees. That’s were we had a wonderful viewing of the bears, including a mother with two cubs.

Deeper in their wilderness there are management programs to foster a population of red wolves and an endangered woodpecker. Both seem to be working.

The first six paragraphs here are meant to set the stage for what is really important here. We constantly are bombarded by a seemingly endless string of bad environmental news. I don’t want to downplay that there is much work to be done.

What I am suggesting is that we also celebrate the progress that had been made on the environmental front. I could be talking about federal, state or local government action. Or the many private organizations working on all levels. Or individuals who let their lives and landscapes be guided by environmental concerns.

Across the country the feds have created over 500 National wildlife refuges. In the past year we have visited about 30 of them. All were well done and with one or multiple targets of land, animal or habitat protection or rehabilitation. Most of their visitor’s centers were staffed by local volunteers.

Last week’s paper told of the efforts of a local group. How many fenced streams did you see 20 years ago? Am I seeing some of the poorer farm fields in the early stages of reforestation?

We were in Maine at an Audubon Camp in June. There we met a gentleman who was troubled by the disappearance of certain birds from the islands of coastal Maine. He spent the next 37 years working to restore there presence. We saw a large colony of them on one island and he has success on, I think, six more islands.

Let me digress for a second. It was about 100 years ago that the meat and feather industry was supported by the wholesale slaughter many species now protected. About that time a Christmas tradition was to go out and see how many birds you could shoot. That morphed into the Christmas bird count of which there is one in the Solanco area.

I suspect the real environmental movement has just passed the century mark in age.

All of us were born during the uphill climb. The summit will never be reached but we can all participate and enjoy the climb.

Let me start with a lengthy confession. I think it was 27 years ago when the summer started hot and dry as it has this year. It didn't change. At the time, I had a big mortgage, a large orchard and was growing about 50 acres of vegetables.

I had irrigation. In fact, the rig would shoot about 180 gallons of water a minute in a 300-foot circle. It moved on its own, so sometimes I could let it alone for up to eight hours without attention. I ran that thing nearly around the clock, seven days a week for 63 consecutive days. A few nights I slept near the rig waiting for the spray of water to wake me when it was time to relocate.

A few years earlier, I rubbed shoulders with an older farmer who wisely claimed that the best years on the farm were when you got almost enough rain, and the worst years were when you got a lot. In fact, in a recent conversation with someone from Illinois, she wished they could give us some of their rain since their crops were in great stress from too much water.

Enough confessions, but I admit that I am a curmudgeon when it comes to the subject of supplemental water in the home landscape. Watering should be an act of necessity, not a routine or daily part of gardening.

That said, I am running a soaker hose every several days (30 minutes) on some newly planted raspberries and a second one between two rows of string beans that I would like to coax a bit more from. I also run a small sprinkler (one hour) in one of three locations in my vegetable garden most evenings.

Some newly planted (this spring) fruit trees got their first supplemental watering a few days ago and will continue to get attention every five to seven days until it rains. So far, that's about it.

I also pretend to use a four-foot section of two inch PVC pipe to stake the large fruited tomatoes. I find it easy to dump maybe two quarts of water down the pipe most days and the sprawling plants seem thankful for that. Italian tomatoes, that just get the sprinkler, are showing some blossom end rot, which is related to moisture and calcium uptake.

My established trees, shrubs and perennials do not seem to be too concerned yet, with the exception of several hydrangeas. I may find a five-gallon bucket with a few holes in the bottom and set near them if it doesn't rain soon. I only plant a few annuals, but they will need water soon to be happy.

The yard, it's brown of course, except for the lowest valleys and the clover. We accept brown in the winter so why not during a hot, dry summer period?

If you have been watering on a regular basis you have little choice but to continue. Regularly watered plants will develop shallow roots and will quickly get into trouble in this weather. Plants who must live with what mother nature dishes out will develop roots to seek the available moisture.

Your watering attention should be directed toward the vegetable garden and your newly planted additions. The bigger the new plant when planted, the more stress it will undergo now, and the more attention you must give to its water needs.

My closing paragraph relates my view on how to address established plantings. The yard, let it be brown. There will never be enough peer pressure to change my mind on that.

When thinking about irrigation, I use the seven o'clock test. I do it in the morning. If a plant shows wilt then, think about watering. If it shows wilt in the middle of a hot afternoon it is just closing its pores to reduce water loss and protect itself. Watering then is probably the worst thing you could do to that plant.

Our nasty, snow-laden winter seems to have smiled on many plants in my garden. My guess is that the blanket effect protected them from the winds and cold temperatures of late winter. Another claim that is older than I am is that snowfall removes nitrogen and other fertilizing elements from the air and brings them to the ground.

One of the chief beneficiaries have been my daylilies, which are always a lead contributor to the beauty of the late June garden. This year they are spectular. The best I have seen in recent memory.

Daylilies have been a staple of the garden from long before my grandmother's time. If my memory serves me correctly she had the roadside orange one, a yellow one and a dark orange double, which I still have more then 50 years since she left us.

Today we have a near full spectrum of colors and plant sizes that range from maybe one foot tall to plants that are as tall as I am. With their large flowers daylilies are an easy target for both amateur and professional breeders. In fact there are over four thousand named varieties. How's that for needless information?

Re-blooming daylilies have become popular at least in the magazines. Except for the pale orange Stella de oro and a few others I remain a bit leery about the re-bloomers. They are fine except for the re-booming part.

I have trialed a number of the re-bloomers and had great success if I really pushed the water and fertilizer to them. In real life, that does not happen in my garden and I doubt if it will in yours.

Glances at the roadside or a walk through a moist meadow might suggest to you that daylilies are native. They aren't. They came with the first colonists and quickly adapted to their new home. They quickly escaped the garden and have become a fixture of the natural landscape.

As the last paragraph suggested I can't think of many plants that is easier to grow. They like sun and will tolerate difficult drier spots. They can be buried in a lot of shade but like most plants they will be more gangly and bloom less in heavy shade, They do like above average water so are good for a wetter location.

The literature suggests that for best results they should be divided every three to five years. My main bed is at least eight years old and most haven't been divided yet. I did do something unusual though last year. I scattered a little fertilizer near them.

If you wish large plants quickly so that you can divide them, plant then shallow. About a half inch shallower then they were in the pot is good. If you wish to slow their growth plant then about a half inch deeper than they were when you got them.

With daylilies today one can match the large beds my grandmother had and dazzle the early summer garden with colors and types she could never dream of.

After the regular season, most professional sports teams engage in a lengthy schedule of playoffs, often dubbed the second season. In the vegetable garden the second season is July, and if you wish, it can spill into August.

Cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower and other members of that family are better as a fall crop than a spring crop. July is the optimum month to get all these started for the fall. I have successfully planted cauliflower and broccoli as late as August 15.

String beans normally take 50 to 60 days, so count back from mid September to figure out the last planting date for them. Digressing for a bit, I must point out that the due to higher temperatures and longer days, growing time for any crop in late summer, early fall is shorter than the growing time in the spring or early summer.

Spinach and lettuce and other salad crops can be planted in late July into early August. Spinach in a sheltered location or a south facing cold frame often will run most of our milder winters.

With the little root bulb types, success can be generally had in the fall. Get carrots and beets in early July but radishes, which take about a month to mature, offer a bigger planting window. Turnips should wait until mid-August.

The summer squash and cucumbers have a rather short growing time and will perform until night temperatures regularly touch about 50 degrees. I doubt that you will find started plants like you can in the spring but they are easy from seed, too. Place about five seeds together and cover with no more than a half-inch of soil. You will see plants in several days.

If you are really into your vegetable garden or crazy, here are some suggestions, which may or may not work.

I have planted sweet corn and cantaloupes as late as July 10. With the corn, I battled the worms but have had tasty fresh corn as late as the first week of October. With cantaloupes I have had success if September stayed warm which does not always happen.

Peas planted in late July have yielded tasty peas in mid-September. Yields have never gotten close to those of spring plantings, but I didn't care. Unlike most plants, the hot temperatures stunt the growth of pea plants, thus reducing the yield.

Now is also the time to think about next year's strawberry crop if you haven't already. After harvest, I mow off the tops (lawnmower), fertilize (never in the spring unless you are growing them for the leaves) and narrow the rows (rototiller) to a width of about one foot. That's it. If you wish to start a new patch, get plants for as early as you can work the soil next spring.

The second season is here but in the garden we want payoffs not playoffs. Leave the playoffs to the athletes.