ELi on EARTH: Parkway Planting

Image: The authors' front garden in summer, showing the parkway blooming with zinnias.

ELi on Earth's chief reporter, Aron Sousa, is away this week, so to keep his fans in the reading style to which they have become accustomed, we are today running a slightly modified version of a previous interview I did with Aron regarding his widely-known parkway garden. Each year, Aron gets it to bloom with about a thousand zinnia blossoms. As the person who weeds it and takes questions from passers-by (I'm married to Aron and his gardening), I know a lot of people have questions about it that will be answered by this interview. Plus, this interview is nicely in keeping with Aron's ongoing series on summer garden preparation.

So what is parkway? It's that funny strip of land that you may have on your property between your sidewalk and your curb. It is sometimes also called a "right-of-way." Technically the city has rights over it, although property owners are responsible for the upkeep. You don't have to keep it full of grass or weeds. You can plant flowers. And the flowers can succeed, if you keep in mind the special limitations of parkway soil.

When we moved to our house in East Lansing's Oakwood neighborhood in 1998, our parkway was nothing but weeds. Rather than replanting with something he'd have to mow, Aron decided to plant zinnias. It worked so well that now the neighbors have come to see the zinnias as our annual obligation. We've had people ask to take some for memorial services, and we've even caught a woman stealing our zinnias out of her car window. (Don't try it. I have a rake and I'm prepared to use it.)

In interviewing Aron about his zinnia-laden parkway, I started by asking him, "Why did you decide to plant something other than grass in your parkway?"

He answered: "To get girls. The well planted parkway is very attractive to women of a certain age and mass." He explained that, for this reason, he plants "only the most luscious of zinnias. I try for big, showy flowers and size matters, so the taller the better. I usually use a variety -- State Fair, Cactus, and Giant are some of my favorite varietals."

I asked him where he gets the seeds. He answered, "That's a rather personal question. I've considered self-seeding but never actually had the guts to try it."

Reader, I happen to know he usually gets the seeds at Van Atta's or Horrocks.

When does he plant? "Early and often. [One year] I had to plant three times, but usually I plant once about two weeks before the last frost, and that's all it takes. I leave them in the fall because the birds like them and it keeps the dirt from eroding into the street. Since there's no grass, there's nothing to keep the dirt there if I pull the plants out by the roots." (Plus he's a little bit lazy at the end of the summer, if you ask me.)

Why does Aron chose zinnias? At this point from tradition, but also out of the knowledge that zinnias attract an abundance of butterflies and goldfinches and don't mind the challenging soil of the parkway. Parkway soil is typically dotted with road salt and sand (not to mention random trash) and is often overfertilized in certain spots by neighbors' dogs. Zinnias don't seem to care. But there are other plant options. Our next-door neighbors, from whom we took inspiration when we moved in, have had many different plants in their parkway, including pitcher plants, balloon flowers, and morning glories climbing the lamp post.

What do the neighbors say about Aron's zinnia'ed parkway? Said Aron, "They don't realize I can hear them when I'm sitting on the porch. I hide behind the fountain grass and I hear people talk about our yard. Sometimes they talk in French. No one seems to notice that the zinnias specifically match my rainbow flag. We had two Chinese students accidentally migrate into the backyard, I think because the zinnias lured them. I gave them some dahlias."

You won't get dahlias if you wander into our backyard. Aron saves them up for his wife. And for wandering Chinese admirers.