Newsletter Articles & Archive

By: James Hearn

Master Gardeners are known for their passion for home horticulture and their dedication to sharing gardening knowledge. But did you know that your garden or landscape can be more than just a source of beauty and fresh produce? It can also be a living laboratory, contributing valuable data to scientific research. As Master Gardeners, we're uniquely positioned to act as Citizen Scientists, bridging the gap between our communities and the world of scientific discovery.

So, what exactly is a Citizen Scientist? Simply put, it's an amateur researcher who contributes to scientific knowledge. This can take many forms, from observing and recording natural phenomena to collecting data and even participating in experiments. Master Gardeners, with our established network and deep connection to the plant world, are ideal candidates for this role. We already possess a wealth of gardening experience and a desire to learn more. By combining these qualities with a few key skills, we can transform our gardens into valuable sources of scientific information.

Our gardens, whether they're sprawling landscapes or container plantings on a balcony, are dynamic ecosystems. They’re microcosms of the larger environment, influenced by weather patterns, soil conditions, and the interactions between different species. This makes them perfect for observing and recording changes over time. The unique value of local, long-term observations cannot be overstated! Researchers often rely on large-scale, short-term studies, which can miss subtle but significant trends that unfold over years. Master Gardeners, rooted in their communities, can provide this crucial long-term perspective. We can track the arrival of pollinators, monitor the spread of invasive species, or observe the effects of changing climate patterns on our plants, all within the familiar context of our own gardens.

Scientific literacy is an essential ingredient for effective citizen science. It means understanding experimentation, reasoning, and basic scientific facts. It means being naturally curious, asking questions about the world around you and seeking answers to those questions. It means being able to read science articles in newspapers and magazines and assess whether those findings are valid. Because Master Gardeners are informed about science and technology, you can evaluate the quality of information based on its source and the methods used to generate data. Most importantly, being scientifically literate allows you to distinguish science from pseudoscience. Differentiating between the two can help you avoid misinformation and poor advice found on websites and other unverified sources.

Becoming a Citizen Scientist as a Master Gardener involves cultivating a few key skills. Systematic observation is paramount. This means paying close attention to details, noticing patterns, and recording your observations accurately. Careful data collection is essential for ensuring the reliability of your contributions. Using standardized methods and tools, whether it's a simple notebook or a dedicated app, will make your data more valuable to researchers. Critical thinking is also crucial. As you collect data, you'll need to analyze it, identify potential biases, and draw informed conclusions. Citizen science is often a collaborative endeavor, so the ability to work effectively with others, including professional scientists, is important. Finally, sharing your discoveries is a vital part of the process. Whether through writing articles in Master Gardener newsletters, delivering a presentation at a Speaker's Bureau event, or fielding questions at an Ask a Master Gardener event, communicating your findings helps to expand our collective understanding of the natural world.

How can your garden and landscape become a source of valuable scientific information? There are numerous citizen science projects that welcome the participation of Master Gardeners. Here are a few examples:

UT Home Garden Vegetable Trials: (https://mastergardener.tennessee.edu/home-garden-vegetable-trial) This program, sponsored by the University of Tennessee, enlists Master Gardeners to grow and evaluate different vegetable varieties in their home gardens. Participants receive seeds and instructions, then provide feedback on plant growth, yield, pest resistance, and flavor. This data helps researchers identify top-performing varieties for Tennessee gardeners.

Tennessee Butterfly Monitoring Program: (https://www.zooknoxville.org/conservation/tennessee-butterfly-monitoring-network) Butterfly enthusiasts can contribute to conservation efforts by monitoring butterfly populations in their own backyards. The Knoxville Zoo provides training and resources for identifying different butterfly species and recording their numbers. This data helps track butterfly populations and assess the health of their habitats.

Great Backyard Bird Count: (https://www.birdcount.org/) This nationwide event, organized by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology and the National Audubon Society, encourages birdwatchers of all levels to count birds in their backyards for a designated period of time. Participants submit their data online, contributing to a massive snapshot of bird populations across the country.

Budburst: (https://budburst.org/) Budburst enlists citizen scientists to make careful observations of the timing of plant life cycle events (phenophases). Participants can choose from featured research projects or create their own, focusing on specific plants or ecological questions that interest them.

These are just a few examples of the many citizen science opportunities available to Master Gardeners. By participating in these projects, you'll not only be contributing to scientific research but also deepening your own understanding of the natural world.

Each year during the prime-time gardening season, any Master Gardeners of Davidson County member can show off their garden by hosting a tour or open house. When you host a garden tour, you earn 15 volunteer hours. In addition, any Master Gardener who assists a host in preparation for the tour can record one volunteer hour for every hour you assist (including travel time to and from the garden). Master Gardeners who visit the tour garden can count the visit for one CEU hour.

Here are the steps for hosting a garden tour or open house:

Schedule: Decide on a date and time for the tour. Generally, tours take place on Saturday or Sunday afternoon. Time and hours are up to the host; a two- to four-hour window provides ample time for visitors to come and go as they are able. You may provide a rain date, but it’s not required. 

Email the request at least two weeks in advance to gardentours@mgofdc.org. Along with the date and time, include the address of the tour, a bit of information about your garden, and a couple of recent images that we can include with the announcement. 

Plan: Even if your garden is a “work in progress,” Master Gardener colleagues enjoy and learn from it. We encourage tour hosts to include an educational component. Possibilities could include visible labels on plants, including botanical names; a listing of plants in the garden; a handout with information on design/planting/maintenance, or other learning opportunities relevant to your garden.

Enjoy: Welcome visitors, chat with your gardener colleagues, walk with them around the garden and enjoy showing off your hard work. Some hosts provide very light refreshments, but it’s not required. Water is nice to have on hand, though, especially on a hot day.

Questions? Email Gloria Ballard at gardentours@mgofdc.org.

Get to know our 2025 First Vice President: Karen Kupelian

- What is your favorite thing about gardening? I love the beauty it adds to the world and being able to enjoy it on my own and with others.

- What led you to become a master gardener? I enjoyed gardening since buying my home but knew much less than I wished to. I wanted to know how to care for my yard and my friends and families yards with evidence backed research.

- What is your favorite thing about being a master gardener? The community and commitment to growing and education. The all hands on deck mulching days, the way we celebrate milestones with and for each other and learn from each other is wonderful.

- What is your favorite memory during your time as a master gardener? So many! Apple tasting in class to garden tours and the satisfaction of weed pulling and mulching at the arboretum with friends.

- What is your favorite season as a gardener? Spring! reminder of the renewal and life that spring brings. 

- How many years have you been gardening? Less than 10

- Have you always gardened in TN or did you start somewhere else? What is the same/different? I have always gardened in TN with a background growing up in Maryland and college and grad school in Virginia. All the same growing zone so I had some familiarity with the plants that would grow there. 

- If you were moving and could only take one plant with you, what would it be? I'm really a sucker for flowering plants and trees. I guess an Iris tuber- they are easy to transplant and spread nicely.

- What are some staples that you will always grow in your garden? Boxwoods, azaleas, iris, peony, helleboreus, dafodils, coneflower, rose and Hydrangea. I hope to always have a cutting garden to share with friends and family.

- What is the most important lesson you have learned about gardening? To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow. It takes time, patience, pruning, consistency, management to reap the rewards a garden can offer. Also of course-right plant, right place.

By: Susanna Hadley

Over the last few years, especially since joining the Master Gardeners of Davidson County, my fascination with the diversity of gardens across cities, states, and counties has grown. Traveling has provided me with a unique opportunity to explore varied landscapes, understand communities better, and add many new destinations to my bucket list. In this article, I want to share my experiences visiting extraordinary locations and exhibits that left a mark on my journeys, connecting me to the places and people I discovered along the way.

Aburi Botanical Garden, Ghana:

Nestled at the base of the Aburi Mountains in Ghana lies the Aburi Botanical Garden. During my recent visit to Ghana, West Africa, I felt compelled to explore this enchanting oasis. The long royal palm tree walk that greets visitors into the park immediately captivated me. Covering approximately 160 acres, the garden boasts a diverse collection of trees and plants thriving in the cooler climate afforded by the higher altitude compared to neighboring capital, Accra. Although my exploration was just the beginning (I didn’t have time to cover the full 160 acres!), I eagerly anticipate returning next year for a guided tour and perhaps experiencing one of the many festivals hosted in the gardens.

Orchids: Amazing Adaptations at Smithsonian Gardens, Washington DC:

In February, I visited the Smithsonian Gardens in Washington DC. The "Future of Orchids: Conservation and Collaboration" exhibit was a testament to the intricate beauty and resilience of these fascinating plants. Featuring over 350 live orchids alongside captivating artworks by artist Phaan Howng, the exhibit provided both amazing sights and valuable insights into orchid conservation efforts. Joy Columbus, Director of the Smithsonian Gardens, described the exhibit as a rare opportunity to explore the "weird and wild world of orchids." Not only was this a fun way to spend time with my friends and family, but it also deepened my understanding of the importance of addressing challenges such as climate change and habitat preservation.

Chelsea Flower Show, London, England:

While I haven't had the chance to attend personally, I had the pleasure of living vicariously through my sister's experience at the Chelsea Flower Show. Regarded as the pinnacle of flower and gardening events, the show showcases breathtaking landscapes and innovative designs that epitomize horticultural excellence. My sister was awestruck by the skill and creativity on display. I asked her to describe her experience, and she shared, “The most impressive part of the show was the creation of these stunning gardens in just a few weeks. They built incredible landscapes that looked like they'd been established for years. The skill, design, and effort required were truly amazing. I also loved how many gardens embraced sustainability and a natural, organic feel that really seemed to resonate with everyone.”

In closing, I'm reminded of the joy and inspiration that nature and gardening offer across our country and the world. Whether exploring botanical gardens abroad or nurturing our own green spaces at home, it’s always a great opportunity to live in the moment and explore new spaces. I hope we all can draw inspiration from our travels, whether they are in our own Davidson County gardens or gardens thousands of miles away.

By: Blake Davis

As a child I had a favorite spot on a crooked tree by a creek where I’d process the confusion of adolescence by watching water striders and tadpoles, and getting lost in the constant movement of life in a forest.
I grew up on a farm in a rural part of Tennessee where the sky was only ever full of birds, breathtaking sunsets or stars. The noise was different there, a layered and organic hum of life. The wind in the trees, the crack of sticks and leaves from deer hooves and small animal paws were the sounds I knew. I didn’t have context for the continuous whir of airplanes, the startling scream of street-racing cars, or the ever-present churn of construction. 

The nearest neighbor was a quarter of a mile away. I was a kid who could pee wherever I wanted. I could jump buck naked into a river (though why I would I can’t guess, it was always ice cold). Gardening wasn’t something I ever thought of- why would I when there were crawdads to catch, bluffs to climb and crooked trees for sitting and thinking? 

Now, in hindsight, I could tell you the forest was filled with mountain laurel, and I hunted copperheads in groves of glade ferns. I didn’t know their names then-I only knew they were my world to explore. 

My favorite moments were when I’d find a hummingbird moth (Hemaris diffinis) hovering nearby, its wings buzzing so fast it seemed suspended in time. My whole world would freeze as I watched this fairy-like creature flicker around me, a quiet miracle I never knew to be rare. 

But time moved on. I was swept into the all-encompassing stages of life- leaving home, learning trades, struggling towards stability, building a livelihood, then a marriage, then a family.
And my mom had to sell the farm when times got hard. 

Through it all, I knew someday I’d scrape enough together to own my own house and soil, and then I could have my own peaceful, quiet spot again. 

What I didn’t realize as a small-town kid was that if you marry a city girl in an urban county, unless she’s a Cheek or a Vanderbilt, the land you start off with is not likely to be a dense evergreen forest within the city limits. 

So after I finally achieved that grand dream of home ownership, this farm boy had a rude awakening when I stepped out of my newly bought ranch home in a bathrobe and discovered there were six angles of neighbors who could see me in my backyard. 

I had to find another way to carve out a feeling of solitude without the budget for a fence. 

The First Attempt

The first attempt was a valid -though ignorant- effort. 

I sourced 36 small arborvitae from a nursery and spent a record-hot Saturday with a rented auger, attempting to create a barrier between my yard and the rest of the world. 

I assumed this would fix the issue, so I confidently planted these three-foot trees, which I was confident would grow into an impenetrable barrier blocking all airplane and construction noise while hiding me from all my neighbors. Then I could find peace again.

I built a pergola from scrap wood to hide in. I dug. I planted bushes. I wanted a sense of enclosure, a green refuge where my kids could run barefoot without an audience. I waited. I checked those arborvitae every day for the first few weeks. I realized I had no idea what the heck I was doing. 

Then I joined the Master Gardeners, and everything started to shift. 

The Unexpected Outcome

One of my favorite skills I learned as a farm boy (that I hated when I was a farm boy) is that chores must be done no matter the weather or discomfort. 

Animals must be fed and watered, even if it takes dragging half-frozen water buckets across a field in eight inches of snow.
The outcome is that as an adult, my neighbors will often see me out at 11pm with a headlamp in 30 degree weather. I became “the weird gardening guy.”

To my surprise, they began stopping me when they drove by to tell me what they were beginning to plant and ask me to help them plan. 

I planted trees in neighbors' yards. 

I won over a particularly grouchy neighbor when I kept offering fresh flowers from my garden. 

The deeper I plugged into the community of Master Gardeners—whose passion and excitement for the work were contagious—the less I focused on building walls and more on opening doors and sharing the abundance that gardening brings.
It occurred to me this would be incredibly difficult if I didn’t live in an urban setting, surrounded by neighbors. 

This humbled me. It also made me feel fraudulent as a newly minted Master Gardener as I met this community of passionate, kind and generous members, the best of plant nerds. 

A Garden That Gives Back

My plans have only ever become more audacious.

After three years of building the yard, creating spaces to sit and connect with friends, and growing plants to share with others, my wife and I found a house just a few minutes farther from the city with three times the land and mature trees around the back yard.

It’s a dream I didn’t think I could see living in Davidson County. 

We listed the house and its messy, scrappy yard, and just so happened we sold it to an incoming Master Gardener.

The garden I built in an attempt to hide is now being nurtured, expanded, and shared by someone who knew exactly what to do with it, something I took five years to discover. 

As I packed up the very last of the moving trailer and took one final look to say farewell to the garden where I discovered my passion and numerous mistakes- something caught my eye. 

A flicker of motion. 

Hovering between the hostas I had planted but would no longer tend, I saw little wings buzzing so fast they seemed suspended in time.

It was the first and only hummingbird moth I’ve seen since leaving my childhood farm. 

In that moment I wept. 

Gardening in an urban space isn’t about building walls to close ourselves in to hide from neighbors, it’s about creating an oasis. A place where life, in all its forms, can pause and find nourishment. For a hummingbird moth, it’s a rare bloom in an ever-shrinking ecosystem. For friends and neighbors, it’s a space to connect with life and each other-a reason to stop, to breathe and to belong.