Angel Maldonado Angel Maldonado

Magical Monarchs Cast a Spell on LCG

At our October meeting on October 24 at the Congregational Church of Littleton, we welcomed Elke Jahns-Harms, Theresa’s backyard neighbor, for her talk “Magical Monarchs.” Elke teaches international development at the Fletcher School at Tufts, and about eight or nine years ago she and her husband Garth found an egg on a plant they had grown for butterflies and decided to see what would happen. They have since raised about 200 monarchs.

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Angel Maldonado Angel Maldonado

Putting the Garden to Bed

As the vegetable garden begins to wind down, there’s a temptation to think the season is simply over: pull everything out, rake the beds clean, and come back in spring.

But fall is actually one of the best times to improve the garden.

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Angel Maldonado Angel Maldonado

Why we love bees

I keep honey bees because I love them—and because I like honey. But keeping a hive has taught me something uncomfortable: the bee I keep is not the bee that needs saving. Massachusetts is home to 390 verified bee species, many of them solitary, ground-nesting and able to travel only a few hundred feet from where they emerge. My honey bees can search thousands of acres for flowers. A small mining bee may depend entirely on what grows in one yard. That changed the way I garden—and the way I think about what it really means to help pollinators.

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Angel Maldonado Angel Maldonado

Little Hands, Big Roots: LCG Helps The Learning Experience Grow a Garden

This June, Littleton Country Gardeners (LCG) partnered with The Learning Experience, a local daycare and preschool in Littleton, to help its youngest residents put down roots — literally. As part of the club's ongoing engagement with our town’s youth, LCG volunteers arrived with soil, seedlings, and a handful of shiny new raised garden beds, ready to introduce a new generation to the joys of growing things.

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Angel Maldonado Angel Maldonado

Rain or Shine, Littleton Showed Up: Thank You for a Wonderful 2026 Plant Sale

Somewhere between the first wagonload heading off to a car and the last hellos under dripping hoods, the weather quietly stopped mattering. Whatever grumbling the cold and the drizzle might have earned in the morning was outmatched by the smell of damp soil, the chatter up and down the rows, and the simple, warming fact that the day was working. The success of the sale — the plants finding homes, the neighbors meeting neighbors, the new faces lingering to ask questions — warmed us right through.

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