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The Shop Winter Garden
The shop landscape is very simple. A rectangle of boxwood set in a generous plane of decomposed granite, a pair of Techny arborvitae bookends, and a pair of lindens is about all there is. These plants, almost 20 years old, occupy a modest percentage of the overall space. This means there is room for a temporary, ephemeral, and seasonal garden expression. Gardening in a zone which features four distinct seasons is a challenge and an opportunity I would never want to do without. The chance to start fresh given the change of the season-love that. The holiday/winter garden is no different.
The inspiration is almost always driven by a natural material that catches my eye. This year, the curly copper willow branches are incredibly beautiful. The color is rich and saturated. The stems are fat and juicy-there is no hint of stress from the drought they endured all summer. They have a distinctly fresh fragrance. Each stout stem was topped with a cloud of delicate branches-breathtaking. I ordered extra, so I would have enough to do the garden in front of the shop.
What would I do with them? Fresh willow is incredibly flexible. One could make baskets, fencing, wreaths-just about anything the eye could imagine, and the hand construct. But I wanted a structure that would permit those thousands of tiny branches to make their own statement. I use these steel forms at home to give my asparagus some support-I knew they would be perfect. Attaching the thick stems, one stem at a time to this form, would provide stability without interfering with the natural form and inclination of the branchlets.
Zip tying each branch was time consuming, and not so easy. Each stem needed a friendly neighbor. My landscape crew does a superb job of all of my landscape installations-their seasonal winter work is no exception. They are not only incredibly talented and willing, they have an understanding of natural forms that comes only with many years of exposure to plants. They never force anything to be. They let the material dictate the construction, and the overall shape. They use whatever they need to make the overall shape complete-even if that means I need to order more.
The douglas fir boughs have been stuffed into dry floral foam, some 6 inches thick. The bottom 3 inches are wedged into the rim of the pot. The six inches above the rim are a home to all of the boughs that are set horizontally. A form this high off the rim of the pot needs reinforcing. 4 pieces of steel rebar are driven through the corners of the foam, and into the soil in the pots. Once the soil freezes around that steel, it will take gale force winds to dislodge the curly willow.
A cloud of copper willow and a low wide base of douglas fir- this year’s holiday/winter expression. The time it takes to construct what will go on in these pots all winter is time I don’t spend moping about the closing of the garden. Should everything come together, these pots will make a statement about what is good about the winter season. A customer in the shop yesterday lives in San Francisco. He tells me the climate and weather is the most consistent and unchanging of any city in the US. Though he misses the change of the seasons, he does not miss the gray skies. He is right. Michigan is one of the grayest and gloomiest of all of the states in the winter.
So a good part of our winter garden is about turning the lights on. The light garland draped over the empty window boxes is comprised of three different strands of three different types of lights. The weight of multiple light strings twisted around each other makes them drape gracefully-they are heavy. Inside each willow cloud is a spot light, wedged into the floral foam. A collar of dry limelight hydrangeas flowers conceals it from view. The spot light illuminates the willow from within. How I like this idea, and and how it looks. A light garland would around the base of the willow illuminates them from the outside. A pair of ball and cone topiary froms are wound solid with ordinary garden variety mini lights. Ordinary materials do not have to be used in an ordinary way.
Having turned the lights on, I have no idea what I will do with this next. Part of the joy of a winter garden is having the time to tinker with it. The spring and summer garden-I am always running to try to keep up. This and that always needs something. Though I have a lot of work yet to come helping clients with holiday and winter containers and decorating, there will be time to figure out what else this garden might need.
Early this morning, a first dusting of snow. As my winter is most assuredly on the way, I would rather like it than not.
Posted on: November 25, 2012 12 Comments
Giving Thanks
Though my 8th grade American history book ascribed the first Thanksgiving holiday to the Pilgrims for the bounty of their harvest in 1621, many cultures celebrate some version of Thanksgiving. Sometimes referred to as a harvest festival, a great crop yield meant food would be available for all during the winter. I cannot imagine being responsible for growing the food I would need to survive the winter, much less the survival of many. Issues of life and death are much better left to physicians, theologians, parents and teachers than me. But celebrating the harvest, and giving thanks, is a tradition in our culture that I value. We buy magnolia wreaths, garland and stems for the holidays from a company whose sole crop is magnolia cuttings. When the trees are well looked after, they grow. They weave the harvested branches onto heavy galvanized steel frames.
Their construction is worth it. A magnolia wreath will dry; properly cared for, it will last many years. Their classic wreath features both the front, and the brown felted backs of the leaves. This 30 inch wreath is perfect for a front door, or over the mantel. A client from out of state wanted a magnolia wreath decorated with fruit. She is in town visitng her kids for the holiday. Would I be able to get it ready for her to take home? Holiday decorations focused on fruit is a holiday tradition dating back to the delle robbia wreaths in Italy. Traditional Williamsburg is noted for their fruit centered holiday decor. I am both appreciative and thankful for that precedent.
Traditions come with that aura of connection-whether they be cultural, religious, regional or neighborhood oriented. One generation to the next. Every creative expression has roots. I am thankful to have a few clients every year who are interested in this particular and traditional representation of the celebration of the harvest. It is comforting to feel a part of something that came before, and will go on beyond. My faux fruit are most certainly not part of this tradition. But they will age with the same grace as the wreath.
I am thankful to have a professional gardening life that allows me to design. I am more than thankful for those many opportunities clients provide to make something grow. Yes, I did go to work today to make this wreath. I have lots of good reasons. The corgis dislike having their go to work routine interrupted. Buck dislikes being distracted when he is planning a holiday dinner. I enjoy the opportunity to be at work making something, uninterrupted.
I start with the major fruits-by this I mean the fruits of considerable size. I pierce them with an awl, and insert a floral pick coated in glue. Sturdy and solid construction is a must. Yes, I am thankful for that company that makes wired floral picks. That pick wedged into the wreath frame means that heaviest of the faux fruit is secured to wreath frame.
The finished wreath is a traditional nod to the celebration of the harvest. Our 2012 gardening season was not the easiest. Bitter and very late frosts damaged so many plants. A summer that was incredibly hot and even more dry-daunting. Many local farmers harvested more disappointment than anything else.
But no matter the trouble, there is always something, and more importantly, someone to be thankful for. A good friend, a family member, an associate, a client-so many people who deserve thanks. A practical knowledge of traditional expressions provides a solid base from which to move on. I am thamkful to have a culture that provides community.
My sole contribution to our Thanksgiving? A very good looking pumpkin, and a vaseful of orange gerbera daisies. Our Thanksgiving tradition-I am grateful for it.
Posted on: November 22, 2012 14 Comments
Bringing The Garden Indoors: Part 1
I am no fan of plants in the house. Once the gardening season comes to a close, it is a relief not have to worry about keeping plants alive. Plants inside the house-what could possibly be more unnatural than that? Would I really subject a perfectly well meaning and decent plant to the dry heat and lack of sun that characterizes an interior space? Perhaps this is wrong, but I like the separation of my gardening life, and my personal life. OK, my gardening life is my personal life, but the thought of a winter getaway from the demands of the plants is attractive.
I have a very good friend whose house is loaded with all manner of tropical plants. Julia does a great job with them, and I marvel at how she is able to keep all of them looking great. She cannot bear to be without the garden for any longer than a moment; her house/conservatory is proof of that. I think if she had her choice, she would live in a conservatory situated in the middle of a giant property.
I have had friends bring me plants for the windowsill behind my desk. One Valentine’s day my landscape superintendent gave me a dozen auricula primroses-how I love them. I spent a whole winter doing watercolor paintings of them, such is my enchantment with them. It took me 3 months to kil them, but kill them I did. Stationed in the windowsill behind my desk, I could not remember to water them until they were in a state of utter dessication. After too many water crises, they finally gave up on me.
My friend and grower Marlene Uhlianuk, whose unusual plants and vegetables are a mainstay of my local market, gave me a pot containing the smallest rose in the world. She insisted it would be easy to take care of. On my window sill. It took a few months to prove her wrong, but prove her wrong I did. I still feel guilty about it.
Though the thought of trying to keep tropical plants alive, inside over a winter leaves me absolutely cold, I can be seduced. By amaryllis, that is. Bringing on amaryllis bulbs indoors late in the gardening year-a means by which even I can bring the garden indoors. 
The bulbs are enormous. The bigger the bulb, the more stalks, and flowers. The blooms are just as enormous-startlingly so. There are miniature varieties, like the amaryllis “Evergreen” pictured above. Though it is a miniature, it’s effect is anything but. Amaryllis is a very small genus of flowering bulbs made up of just two species. Amaryllis belladonna is a species native to South Africa. The taxomony aside, these hefty bulbs can produce flowering stalks from December until April.
Potted up, a solid two-thirds of the bulb needs to be above the soil line. This makes sense-big juicy bulbs have no need of too much water. As for “planting” amaryllis in soil in clay pots, with 2/3’s of the bulb above ground-this leaves me cold. I don’t have a conservatory or greenhouse, just a house. My idea of a household is a space unsullied by dirt. Apart from what the corgis track in, that is. Forcing bulbs in water is an alternative that sounds good.
I like to grow amaryllis in water. Water gardens are perfect for people who cannot remember to water-both inside and out. A jar, a bulb, and a handful of stones is a simple and easy means of bringing the garden indoors. The jar, and the stones-entirely up to you. Rob bought canning jars for our amaryllis this year. The capped jars from Fisk are so beautiful. I am dubious of any idea about which might make my winter easier. But in truth, the process of bringing the amaryllis into bloom indoors-simple and satisfying.
The amaryllis Baby Doll is white, with the slightest hint of blush pink. If these pictures do not make you long to grow some on your windowsill, then nothing will. The reward for your effort is considerable. If you follow a few simple rules, amaryllis can be grown on, and kept for years.
Grumpy about the passing of the gardening season? Growing amaryllis is guaranteed to help with that. Set the bulb low in the jar. The rim of the jar will help hold the heavy flowering stalks aloft. Add water to just below the basal plate of the bulb-the water is for the roots to reach for. Soaking the bulb itself in water is asking for rot. Provide a warm place. Amaryllis bulbs are ready and waiting to grow and bloom, meaning that even a haphazrd effort will probably produce flowers. Not interested in hauling in jars and bags of stone? Rob has all of these amaryllis ready and waiting.
Posted on: November 18, 2012 9 Comments