Why Blueberries Are My Favorite Landscape Shrub

Harvested 2 pounds today. From two plants.

Nuff said?

The Garden in May

Spring in the Palo Alto garden

It's been an interesting Spring, filled with April showers and mini-heat waves. We should be past the coldest nights here in Palo Alto, though, so I finally felt safe pruning my grapes and hydrangeas. (Although I was a bit late cutting down the grasses, so I won't be expecting great things from them this year.)

Those late rains gave us a nice extension on getting woody perennials, shrubs and trees into the ground; the soil moisture is still good but not so mucky that it's difficult to dig. But don't get complacent! Check now to be sure your irrigation system is functioning optimally — the soil dries out quickly and you don't want it to go hydrophobic while your new plants are establishing.

I failed to keep pace with the weeds this Spring. I'll be hoeing out as much as I can over the next couple of weeks, but I think my negligence has earned me seven years of weedlings. It's incredible how long those seeds can stay dormant in the ground, then pop! as soon as they get a bit of sunlight.

This is a great time to get all sorts of color planted: annuals such as impatiens and marigolds, long-blooming perennials such as Achillea, Coreopsis, Echinacea, Gaillardia, Limonium, Rudbeckia and Scabiosa, and even fall bulbs like Crocus speciosus and Colchicum autumnale. For the former, you simply can't go wrong with seeds from Renee's Garden, or young plants from Annie's Annuals; and for the latter, I have never had anything less than extraordinary results from Brent and Becky's Bulbs (who seem to be offering an early order discount at the moment!). 

It's also the season when the landscape designer's phone begins to ring again, with optimistic voices on the other end hoping for a deck by spring, a pool by summer. And somehow, with the sun shining on our faces again and last year's perennials resurging at our feet, somehow it all seems possible.

Gardening in the New Year

I recently caught up with a friend from Maine, where the ground regularly freezes to 6' deep and footings for walls need to be poured 8' deep to get below the frost line. Makes our winters here in Palo Alto seem positively tropical, and even though the recent frosts are sending lots of things rushing into dormancy, there's still plenty to do in the garden.

Your roses may still look like they're ready to party, but it's really time for them to rest a while. Stop feeding and watering them in advance of pruning them next month.

Ditto your ornamental grasses, which will hold the frost and morning dew beautifully if you leave the seed plumes on just a bit longer. When you see them putting out new growth, that's your cue to cut them back "hard" — about 6" above the ground (till they resemble hedgehogs or sea urchins).

Your fruit trees should have lost most of their leaves by now. Once they're bare, it's time to prune them, remembering to leave plenty of fruiting spurs. If you're growing peaches, nectarines or apricots, spray with a "dormant season" spray while the weather is dry to prevent leaf curl and discourage insects.

Hopefully you got all your daffodil and narcissus bulbs in a couple of months ago; now it's time to pull the THC (tulips, hyacinths and crocuses) out of the fridge and plunk them into the soil as well. Because the Bay Area isn't Maine, these bulbs don't go into deep dormancy, so I like to treat them as annuals and pack them into pots.

Speaking of annuals, nurseries are brimming now with cool-season annuals such as nemesia, ornamental kale, and winter veggies. Now that the Christmas trees are gone, you'll also find a nice selection of camellias in bloom, and bareroot roses will be making an appearance shortly. For all of these I really like Regan Nursery, over in Fremont; Roger Reynolds (in Atherton) and Redwood City Nursery also feature excellent selections.

Finally, it's a prime time to lay down an inch or two of organic compost throughout the garden. I don't bother tilling it in, mostly because I'm lazy but also because I have faith that the coming rains will percolate all the good stuff down without my help.

Getting back to normal after the holidays can leave us a little time-challenged, but try to steal a few quiet, cool, sunny afternoons to spend in your garden before winter rains turn it into a muddy mess. Your landscape will thank you for it!

Winter Into Spring

Interesting phenomenon: as soon as we got a few sunny days this month, my phone started ringing off the hook with people who "want new landscaping in time for summer." This actually is typical of this season, as it gradually dawns on us that winter may actually end some day, and we may get to spend some time outside again.

No one wants to defer gratification, or make yet another summer's worth of excuses for the state of their yard. But the rains look like they might be around a while longer, and that saturated muck we call soil is no fun for even the most ardent DIY-er to work with. What's more, by this time of year, the good contractors are booked solid for the spring and into summer.

So what's an impatient homeowner to do?

1. Throw money at it. There's no problem that can't be solved when you multiply your budget 4x. Hey, the markets have been on a roll lately, right?

2. Call a dozen contractors for bids. After all, there's gotta be one that's not booked up. (But, to save time, make sure you don't call any of their most recent customers for references.)

3. Lower your design standards. So what if you really wanted a stone patio and redwood arbor? You'll get used to the gravel in time, and you can probably get a really good deal on a charming patio umbrella on craigslist.

4. Do it yer damn self. Because you're really good at things like this.

5. Start planning now for autumn. Contact a really good garden designer now and commission a unique landscape design, to be installed in the fall. Your preliminary concepts should be done by June. You can start contacting contractors in July. Get final plans and bids by August. And break ground in September. Your plants (installed in October or November) will appreciate all the winter rains, as will your irrigation budget. Your wallet won't get raked over the coals by the laws of supply and demand. And in exchange for your patience and wisdom, you'll have an excellent new landscape, at an excellent price, less than a year from now.

It's not quite instant gratification. But it's probably a result you can live with.

Legends of the Fall

One of the things I hear from clients who have moved to California from other regions of the country is, "there's no fall color here." And while I'll grant that the Bay Area is no New England, I have to say that this autumn the trees seem particuarly brilliant.

While lots of factors influence fall leaf color, what I've noticed this year is that [a] we had a fairly mild summer, so fewer leaves scorched and departed early; [b] the cold nights arrived with a vengeance right around the autumnal equinox, giving the trees not one but two cues (light and temperature) that it's time for dormancy; and [c] the dry summer has persisted into fall, stressing trees into withdrawing their green chlorophyll earlier and more quickly (thereby revealing the natural anthocyanins and carotene colors).

Some trees with legendary fall color include Acer freemanii (Red Maple), Ginkgo biloba (Maidenhair Tree), Quercus coccinea (Scarlet Oak), Acer griseum (Paperbark Maple), the native Acer circinatum (Vine Maple),
and of course the reliably fluorescent Pistacia chinensis (Chinese Pistache) and Liquidambar styraciflua (Sweet Gum). From a drive around my Palo Alto neighborood this morning, I've posted photos of these and more at my Flickr site.

To my eye, the colors peaked late last week, so as you're out and about over the next few days, I hope you'll make it a point to notice and appreciate the colors before they come back to earth. If you see something particularly stunning, feel free to send it in. And if you have favorite autumn plants of your own, please share!

Meteor Dribble

In case you haven't heard, these are the prime viewing nights for the Perseid meteor showers. And this year's show is supposed to be especially good. Except, when I stand in my backyard, all I see is a fireball.

Yes, our neighbor has taken to leaving her back patio light on at night. All night.

Apparently she's oblivious to the fact that the fixture is of a design that emits light up and out as well as down, or that the wattage of the bulb is enough to brown a turkey at a distance of 300 feet.

This could bode well for our Thanksgiving. But any other day, this is the definition of "light trespass": the intrusion of light across geographic or property boundaries. And it's a classic case of light pollution, a growing problem which is devaluing our quality of life, harming wildlife, and destroying our environment.

I bring this up because, if you haven't noticed, the nights have been lengthening for a month or so, and will continue until we reach the winter solstice on December 21 (at 9:47 am local time, FYI). As a result, we humans are using artificial illumination more; which I believe means we have a responsibility to use it more wisely.

The most common reason to use outdoor lighting is, in a word, safety. We want to see where we're going, make it easier to ourselves to navigate around and into our home, and make it harder for unwelcome guests to do the same. But when we commit the error of my neighbor, we actually decrease our safety. Think about it: do you enjoy staring straight into the halo of a 75-watt bulb? Of course not, so you look away. Which means you don't see the fellow in the black ski mask jimmying the lock on the door next to that light.

Even if you thought you saw something, it would be impossible to see much past the glare of that lamp. Is it your neighbor, or not? Hard to tell, and given that you want to keep your neighborly relations, well, neighborly, you probably won't call 911 on him. Once again, the design of the fixture has compromised its effectiveness.

Furthermore, because misdirected light is wasted light, and wasted light is wasted power, the International Dark-Sky Association (IDA) and others calculate that poor lighting may the US $2 billion or more annually. Nor is the cost just economic: the US alone may consume at least six million tons of coal annually to produce excess light — creating long-term environmental consequences such as air and water pollution, carbon dioxide accumulation, and acid rain that affect every species of life on Earth.

Whether you're planning your outdoor lighting from scratch, or retrofitting an existing system, there's a lot you can do to reduce these costs to yourself and your planet. I've written a white paper on dark-sky issues and effective lighting solutions, so please let me know if I can answer any of your lighting questions.

In the meantime, please turn down the lights. Your neighbors will see stars… and thank you for it.

Who's Blooming Today: Buddleja 'Lochinch'

I can't tell you how to pronounce it, but I will tell you the 'Lochinch' butterfly bush (pictured here with pink Cistus 'Victor Reiter') is one of my favorite Buddlejas for the garden. Its light blue-gray foliage is a wonderful foil for almost any other color—burgundy Berberis, purple Limonium, white 'Iceberg' rose, orange poppies or Gaillardia—the list goes on.

So, too, do the fragrant blooms, which begin in late May and don't quit until December if I deadhead consistently. It's a vigorous plant: even when cut back hard over winter, it will hit 10 to 12 feet of new growth in a single season. The habit is fairly upright, which makes achieving a vase shape easy if space is limited. And, of course, it attracts butterflies, hummingbirds, bees and other pollinators in droves. (The pale lavender flowers are particularly stunning with yellow swallowtails alighting on them.)

'Lochinch' has performed equally well for me in a part-sun border in loam soil next to an irrigated lawn, and as a solo specimen in a full-sun, full-clay xeriscape. Really, my only complaint is that the leaves are so heavily felted that pruning them can trigger an allergy attack in seconds. Other than that, 'Lochinch' is a standout in any perennial landscape—no matter how you say it.

UPDATE 6/16/09: Don't you love it when the wildlife enters on cue?

The Incredible Disappearing Designer

It's that time of the year when perfectly good landscape designers seem to vanish into thin air. Gone are the witty blog posts. Gone are the tweets. Emails languish. Voicemails vanish.

Where is everybody?!

Most likely, we're at one of three places:

Our computers and/or drafting tables

Our clients' homes

The local nursery, rockyard, or furniture store

In other words, we're in our primetime, working like mad to transform old eyesore yards into veritable Edens… "by summer."

Fortunately, the Bay Area enjoys a long summer: well into November, in fact. And if you're just beginning the design process this late in May, chances are you're going to need every week you can get. So what can you do to speed things along?

1) Know your yard. How big is it? (In square feet, please, not adverbs: "fairly big" doesn't help me nearly as much as "8000 square feet"). What's in it? (Again, bonus points for specificity: "it's really boring" is less useful than "it has an old lawn that I stopped watering 3 years ago, bordered by a 7-foot-high hedge that blocks my windows.") And what do you want it to become? (Say it with me: "Make it more interesting" doesn't help. "Evoke the Tuscan countryside" is a good start.)

2) Know your budget. I've lost count of how many times I've been asked, "how much will it cost to landscape our yard?" The short answer is, it will cost as much as you have to spend. Left to my own devices, trust me, I will design a wonderland that will break you. Your only chance of staying out of bankruptcy court is to tell me ahead of time exactly how much money you have to spend on this little adventure — no more, no less. Otherwise, the best scenario you can hope for is to waste your money paying me to design a yard you can't afford to build.

3) Know yourself. What styles do you like and dislike? How much time and money do you have to spend on maintaining your new garden? How do you want to feel in your new outdoor space? What colors, scents or sounds make you feel that way? If you see examples of things you like - whether in print, online, or in the "real" world - tear out the pages, print the screenshot, snap a photo. Build an idea file to guide yourself and your designer. Even if you don't know why you like something, collect it. The good designer can synthesize what seems like a random jumble and divine the common elements that speak to you.

When I begin working with a client, I start them off with a questionnaire that gets at all this information and then some. It still doesn't guarantee the design process will go quickly; but it does give us some specific targets to aim for so that the resulting landscape will delight your senses and inspire your soul.

And isn't that worth waiting for?

Who's Blooming Today: Cistus purpureus

Today the purple (or orchid) rockrose, Cistus purpureus, began its show. This is one of my favorite shrubs: drought tolerant, evergreen, resinously aromatic foliage, and of course these flowers that go with any color I can imagine. I especially enjoy it with silver companions such as Salvia chamedryoides, Santolina, and Lavandula stoechas.



In fact, my only problem with the Cistus is that it gets big - up to 4' wide if left unchecked. I'll be heading mine back after its first bloom cycle, but we all know it's a futile effort. I've got 3 of these fellows in my Palo Alto garden, all runts adopted from the nursery's clearance shelf at the end of last summer. I must have been very good in a past life for such good garden karma now!

Who's Blooming Today: Juan

Not to be left behind, the first few Tulipa 'Juan' started blooming
today. In addition to the name and the fantastic hot orange/yellow
flower, I really like the purple variegation on the foliage. This has
naturalized quite nicely here in Palo Alto; again, from www.brentandbeckysbulbs.com
.

Who's Blooming Today: Lady Jane

The first buch of Tulipa 'Lady Jane' opened up today, one year
naturalized. (That's fragrant Narcissus 'Falconet' in the background.)
Both from www.brentandbeckysbulbs.com.

Sights, Sounds and Synthetic Compounds of Spring

The sun's been shining for a week now, so it's officially spring around here no matter what the calendar or thermometer say. If you need further proof: both my neighbor and I busted out our lawn mowers in the last week for the first time in months; my broccoli, which I swear I just planted, has bolted and gone to flower; the annual weeds like dandelion and Italian ryegrass have kicked it into overdrive and set seed already.

In other words, this is the time of year when our gardens are most likely to get away from us. A little rain, a little sun, a little extra warmth, and everyone's feeling happy. But for those of us who desire to chaperone the party a bit, this can also be a very challenging time, and it's when we are most likely to break out the RoundUp, Corry's Slug & Snail Death and other chemical assistants to give us a hand.

As much as I prefer gardening organically, I recognize the realities of modern life; I also much prefer a handwritten note to email, or reading the newspaper to reading a blog, yet here we are. I also will not be out in my yard hoeing away every last ryegrass seed, so chemicals can be a "technology" I use to achieve my goals with the time and energy I do have.

Like any tool or technology, RoundUp is not inherently evil. Sure, it may have been created by evil men (although I doubt it), it may harm the earth and its inhabitants, and there's no question that it's integral to the morally corrupt business strategies of companies like Monsanto. But on its own? RoundUp is just a chemical compound, and it's up to you and me to use it responsibly.

The chemical isn't the problem. The problem is, we lose sight of our real goals (a vibrant, healthy garden environment) in the glare of short-term fixes. Add to that the urgency panic inspired by a garden quickly outpacing us, and our tendency is to grab the nearest solution and drench our problems with it. But if we stop, take a jasmine-scented breath, and think, we can actually make choices that fulfill our short- and long-term needs. For weed control, try repeated applications of undiluted vinegar, or boiling water, or boiling undiluted vinegar (after a reality check). For slugs and snails, an iron-phosphate compound such as Sluggo is extremely safe (and more convenient than beer traps).

There is no shortage of organic gardening blogs out there, as well as Cooperative Extension offices with expertise far beyond what I'll ever accrue, including strategies for integrated pest management. Start there, then take another look at the garden you really want to have... does RoundUp really belong in it?

Today in the Times

Today's New York Times holds a plethora of good stuff, from inspiring advice on winter-blooming shrubs and greenhousing, to a sobering outlook for New York's famed zoos and gardens, to an encouraging (if vapid) effort by PepsiCo to assess how much carbon it takes to make orange juice.

The moral of the latter story: it's nitrogen fertilizer, not transportation, that leaves the biggest footprint. Anyone have any suggestions for how PepsiCo might clean up their act? Anyone?

Truly Thankful

For rain, and sun
For daffodil tips poking through the clay
For fluorescent autumn foliage
For an abundance of work I enjoy
For a warm, dry place to sleep
For two young roosters
For a patient and lovely partner
For the mutual enrichment of friends
For the capacity to create
For another night
For another day


For my clients, my friends, my colleagues, my readers, my family… Thank you.

After the Rains

The recent rains were exactly what the Bay Area needed, and not a moment too soon. The billabong started to fill, but drained out just as quickly since the soil isn't anywhere near saturated. Amazing how a long drink springs the landscape to life: my sullen Arctostaphylos suddenly greened up again, and today I noticed the first Narcissus tips poking out of the soil. (Of course, the weeds and winged termites germinated too.) My timing in planting spinach and lettuces just days before the rains was impeccable, and the well-watered sprouts are now basking in the autumn sun. The local Lepidopterae wasted no time in depositing eggs on the broccoli transplants, so we're checking daily for little green worms. As the nights get colder and longer, our tomatoes will slow and finally stop ripening, so I'd guess we're about two weeks from ripping those out before they look nasty... a few extra fruits isn't worth the unsightly tangle of necrotic vines. Other "to do" items before the rainy season really sets in: clean out the rain gutters; install rain barrels; check drains for blocks or leaks; reduce irrigation schedules; clean, oil and shelter garden tools; stack and cover firewood. Those colorful, seductive seed catalogs are about to start arriving in droves; just remember, it's fine to make a wish list, but don't order a thing until you know where it will go in the garden! (Check with me next spring to see whether I've taken my own advice.) I'm sure there's more, much more, to be done... what's your favorite fall-to-winter garden routine?

Right on Cue

In case you missed it, autumn is officially here. Some tree species seem to get the memo sooner than others; Callery pear, Liquidambar, Chinese pistachio and one of my favorites, American ash (the aptly named 'Autumn Purple' cultivar is pictured here) are already showing their true colors.

Among shrubs, you'll start seeing autumn colors soon on heavenly bamboo and viburnums; and some grasses such as 'Haense Herms' switchgrass are equally brilliant.

I'm not saying these are necessarily the best plants for fall color, just some of the earliest. If you like autumn to be a season in your garden, not just a page in your calendar, they're worth a look.

What are some of your fall favorites?

(Happy) Earth Day

Hooray. It's "Earth Day." One day, 24 hours, for us to be more aware and appreciative of the Earth's environment.

Woo hoo.

Never mind that the other 364 days of the year we're driving our SUV around town, alone and comfy in our captain's chair.

Or that we still leave the water running while we wash our hands with antibacterial soap.

Or that our salmon are now in as much trouble as our tuna.

I put honey in my tea today and was confronted by two unwelcome thoughts:

If this isn't "organic" honey, what crap pesticide residue am I drinking now?

When the bees go extinct, how will I put honey in my tea?

Across the street, the neighbor's sprinklers spray well beyond the curbside planting strip, flooding the gutter and soaking the cars parked there. Then the gardener fires up his gas-powered leaf blower, creating great clouds of dust and grass clippings and pollen that immediately adhere to the wet cars. I am not making this up.

It seems to me that we, as a society, have gone mad. We are pathological, behaving in ways that clearly harm others, if not directly ourselves. We are compulsive, unable or unwilling to modify our behaviors even when it's made clear that they are destructive. And we are delusional, somehow believing — despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary — that our actions either don't have consequences or will be mitigated by someone else.

It's been about two years since Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth made us all wince just a little bit. And yet the troubles have been on people's lips for more than 15 years — I caught Batman Returns on TV over the weekend, and even in 1992 the Penguin referenced "global warming." I understand that sometimes Hollywood can seem out of touch, but major studio releases don't make their money referencing arcane phenomena advanced only by the intelligentsia.

I was going to write today about a few things we all can do to help our planet, our neighbors, our children. Little things, things you might actually do, like converting your lawn to low-water plantings, not like converting your SUV to biodiesel. But honestly, we've known we're in trouble for, let's conservatively say, a decade. What have you changed in that time? Have you converted your lawn to low-water plantings? Have you stopped buying products whose manufacture kills the environment? Do you recycle and/or compost most, if not all, of your waste?

If you have, great. I applaud you. Tell us all about it, if for no other reason than to help us sustain our delusion that someone somewhere is fixing the problem we're creating. But when my clients still demand lawns that no child will ever play on… when "my" contractors still install spray irrigation because drip is too difficult… when I myself still drive my SUV around town, solo… I think perhaps the problem is outpacing the fix.

So, seriously: what are we going to do about it?

A Little Cold For April

If you're thinking the last few days have been a little cold for April, you're right. In fact, yesterday San Francisco tied its record low for the date and Oakland set a new record, according to NBC11.

By itself the cold snap wouldn't be a problem; but with the weather so deliciously warm for the past few weeks, just about every last plant that had been holding on to dormancy has decided it's finally time to bust out the buds... which leaves them vulnerable to these frosty conditions.

Making the problem worse is the wind, which can chill us down another 10 degrees or more and, even worse, increases the rate at which plants transpire (i.e. lose) water. So the biggest danger isn't actually freezing: it's dehydration.

Ironically, the best defense is the same practice you would use on the hottest days of summer: water your plants, slow and steady, at least once if not twice a day. Make sure the irrigation arrives right onto the soil around the plant's dripline — ideally you have a low-flow system so there's little or no loss, but if you do have spray heads make sure they're not wasting water up into the air. The breeze is often calmest in the pre-dawn hours, so that's a good time to irrigate with little fear of the wind carrying the water away.

(On a side note, if your system is "misting" clouds of water up into the air, your system may be operating with too much water pressure — usually a result of improperly sized pipes. If you can, choke down or manually reduce the flow to your irrigation mainline to see if the misting stops.)

Also, make sure your mulch is adequate: I like to recommend a 2- to 3-inch deep layer of redwood bark or coco hulls, but I've also taken to using the coffee grounds my local java joint bundles up and sets aside. (By the way, they smell awesome for a day, then they just smell like stale Folger's.) Mulch helps the soil retain water, and it also creates the cool, aerated conditions that beneficial mycorrhizae love. No doubt the weather will warm up again soon, and your plants and soil will be prepared for their next challenge: our Mediterranean summer.

Next Stop, Spring

Winter reveals the garden's bones.With only a forecast of showers next weekend standing between us and Spring, now's your last best chance to take care of those winter to-do items and get your garden ready for peak season.

First, cut back grasses to about 6" above ground level, to make room for the coming flush of growth. If perennials such Mexican sage are beginning to regrow from their base, cut those back as well. Woody shrubs such as Salvia greggii, hydrangeas, viburnums and dogwoods may also be showing new growth along their old branches; I trim these back to just above a new growth node about 1/2 or even 2/3 back from the ends.

Second, clear out anything that's obviously dead. Give serious thought to also removing any specimens that struggled last year: it wasn't a particularly brutal year, so anything that didn't thrive probably is in the wrong location (or receiving the wrong care) and won't do much better this year. With this riffraff gone, step back and evaluate the "bones," or basic structure, of your garden. Are there gaping holes? Overly (or underly) vigorous specimens? Poorly shaped trees or large shrubs that are blocking light, views or paths? "Dead end" views with no payoff? Make a list; I use a map of the garden with numbered items in place.

Third, revisit your garden wish list. Is there anything you wish for more of: color, fragrance, movement, wildlife? Anything you've seen in your travels -- whether plants or pots, furniture, lighting, or other ornaments -- that you'd like to try replicating at home? Again, make a list, collect pictures, and start (or update) an idea file. If possible, also identify a budget and prioritize your list into "must have," "nice to have," and "if I win the lottery" levels of importance.

Fourth, give your "tools of the trade" a checkup. Run your irrigation systems and check coverage and pressure; test hoses for leaks; check lighting systems for burned out bulbs or broken fixtures; and sharpen your shovel, spade, hoe, pruning shears, loppers, and lawnmower blades (many local hardware stores offer sharpening services). Also make sure your gloves, knee pads, hat and other gear are in good shape.

Finally, make sure your team of garden experts is at the ready. This might include a landscape designer, landscape contractor, fine gardener, arborist, irrigation specialist, and/or nursery. And if you'll be doing the work yourself, schedule a massage (or chiropractor visit) for the next day. After all, there's no reason all this work can't have its rewards.

It's About Time

Right on time with the arrival of some warmer, sunnier weather, it's time to "spring forward" and set your clocks ahead one hour at 2:00 a.m. this Sunday, March 9. (Effectively making 2 a.m. into 3 a.m., and depriving you of an hour of precious sleep.)

Daylight saving time (DST, or "summer time") has a twofold purpose: the first, as realized by good old Ben Franklin, is to save energy. According to WebExhibits.org, "Studies done by the U.S. Department of Transportation show that Daylight Saving Time trims the entire country's electricity usage by… about one percent each day, because less electricity is used for lighting and appliances. Similarly, in New Zealand, power companies have found that power usage decreases 3.5 percent when daylight saving starts. In the first week, peak evening consumption commonly drops around five percent."

But DST's other purpose has become even more valuable: that extra hour of daylight, just as the days are lengthening anyhow, gives us all more time to play outside in the evenings. You could say, it's what makes summer summer: more time for those backyard barbeques, leisurely games of Beamo with the family, or just enough time to actually relax in a hammock. And to me, there's no better way to catch up on that lost hour of sleep.