Flip The Switch

  Designing and installing containers for the winter season is very different than planting containers in any other season. Notably, nothing grows in a winter container. Though most of our materials are naturally growing materials, they are rootless. Cut branches, greens, berries and seed pods will be the same size, and occupy the same space in March as they did the day they were arranged the previous November or December. There needs to be enough materials to create an arrangement proportional to the container. A decent sized pot planted with a single coleus in May could be glorious by September, but winter pots need to be glorious the moment they are finished. Pots stuffed to overflowing with winter materials are also better able to handle our winter weather. Rob’s winter container pictured above maintains its shape and size despite the snow. A second crucial difference is the light.  Summer days are long and mostly sunny.  Winter days are gloomy, and dark after 4:30 pm. Designing a winter pot that addresses the darkness can be enjoyed 24 hours a day. Barely visible above is the firepower in the bottom of this container that will transform this winter arrangement once the day goes dark.

The look of a winter container during the day can be transformed by some light at night. Snow during the the day, and fire at night encourages a lot of talk. And a lot of delight.  I am not so interested in landscape lighting during the spring, summer, or fall. But having the lights on in the dark of winter is a plus.  And in my opinion, a must. I would encourage any gardener who takes the time to dress their pots for the winter season to consider lighting them. The lighting in this pot is simple. Lots of C-7 bulb size strands of LED lights set the entire arrangement on visual fire at night. The cost of running LED lights is so minimal, and the longevity of the strands is so good, how could anyone resist adding this element to a winter pot? The materials in this pot? Tree of heaven branches and weeds from the field next door to the shop.

Lighting winter containers calls for some thought to conceal the wiring. Arranging lights in the bottom of a container before adding the decorative materials means the only daytime sign that the pot has lights is the extension cord that hooks them all up.  An exterior rated cord with a three-way plug or light strip can accommodate a fair number of strings. For those without a source of electricity hear a container, a 50 foot extension cord carries power just as well as a 10 footer. That cord can be hidden in the landscape, or a green cord across the grass is unobtrusive, and likely to be covered by snow rather quickly.

The pot at night is warm and inviting. Winter pots placed at the front door, or next to the steps can be handy for lighting the way at night, or in the early morning.

Years ago the nursery manager who supplies us with woody plant material called to say he had 6 Lollipop crab apples that had not survived a summer drought at their farm-did we want to put them to use in some winter containers? We secured the trunks with steel rebar, and hung the branches with 9″ long glass drops. I did worry the glass might break on a windy day, but that fear was unfounded. The foam forms were covered with lights, and stuffed with fresh eucalyptus and noble fir. They did look beautiful during the day.

How they looked at night was another story altogether.  The bottom light illuminated the branches and the glass drops. This is the best example I have that illustrates how light can create a sense of volume in a winter pot.

Rob filled this pair of pots for me for winter a long time ago. Placed on the wall at the end of the driveway, they were a celebration of the winter season that greeted me at least twice a day. Even though the pots were fairly small, the display was generous in size. The pots are vintage American made stoneware from the Galway Company in the 1920’s, so they would not crack or break over the course of the winter. The floral foam into which Rob arranged all of the material does not absorb water. The foam effectively keeps water or snow out of the pots.

There comes a time when it is dark when I come home from work. The light at the end of the driveway helps light the way. And it is cheery.

The large concrete pot in my side yard always gets a cut Christmas tree that is loaded with lights.  I do not have any lighting on this side of the house, so I welcome that light as much as I like seeing the pot with something in it for the winter.  A cut tree is an easy way to create a winter arrangement.  It just takes some care to anchor the trunk so it stays upright all winter.

Do I run the lights all winter?  Yes. This is the view out of every window on the south side of my house.  I like looking at it all winter long. It provides some warmth and life to the dormant garden.

Rob has been working on this pot at the end of the driveway for a week or so-whenever he has a moment.

The lights he is adding are new to the shop this year. These mixed berry LED bulbs are large, and the light is soft, as the bulbs are translucent.

At 5:15 last night, the shop was ready for the evening hours.

This container features another new lighting device Rob ordered for the shop. An LED lightburst is 36″ tall, and has 28  waterproof”branches” wrapped with 140 lights.  What could be easier than adding one of these to the center of a bunch of natural branches? The lightburst comes with a pointed steel cap, which means it can also be pushed into the soil in a container. Lighting the twigs in a winter container has always been tough to do discreetly, and it takes a long time to suspend lights in the air. This makes quick work of it.

These pots also have the lightbursts in the twigs.During the day, there is no evidence of the mechanics, just a subtle glow at the top.

lighted pot of Rob’s during the day

a lighted pot of mine at dusk.  It’s enough to have made me want to flip the switch.

Okra Pods

We were able to finish all of our 2017 projects last week, save one, by last Thursday afternoon. That final project needs a decent sized block of time, so we will do it this coming week. This meant there would be time for me to get some pots done at home. Finding materials would be a challenge. Given that the supply of fresh cut greens is all but depleted, my only hope was 8  9 foot Frazier fir Christmas trees purchased to chop up for our last project to come. There would be enough branches from those trees available to do my two pots on the driveway. The Frazier fir would shake off all the cold and snow a winter season would have to dish out, and still look great next March. The skirt of green was available.

Our supply of fresh cut twigs was equally skimpy, but for two bundles of red bud pussy willow we put on reserve for our last project. I toured the shop at least three times before I focused on a pair of steel topiary cones that we had Missy cover with grapevine and brown corded incandescent lights. These topiary forms are 5.5 feet tall. The scale of them would be perfect for my 30″ tall and 30″ diameter Branch Hudson tapers, given that we had no branches available for the center. I had no use for those incandescent lights. There had to be another idea. While David was removing those lights, I toured the store for the 4th time. We had a case of 10′ long LED rice light strands on silver wire still available.  These lights would need their transformer and plug protected from the elements.  We could do that. As the lights seemed so minuscule (each light is truly the size of a grain of rice), I doubled up the strands. David and I took a few minutes to wind them around each topiary form in an informal spiral.

What next? The intersection of that vertical topiary form with that horizontally oriented bed of greens was bare, stark and dry. Awkward.  An intermediary element that would soften spot and provide visual interest would be a good idea. This part of the container would be at eye level, as my tapers are set on tall steel socles. I knew I would want to load up that interior level with Lumineo cluster lights, but those lights needed something at eye level to illuminate besides the bare legs of the topiary cones. Successful containers, no matter the season, need to be designed and planted as a complete and literate visual world unto themselves. The spring, summer and fall plants, and winter materials, play a considerable role in this. But it is the overall sculptural quality that makes a container garden complete.

We had plenty of bunches of dried okra seed pods on slim wood stems in the shop greenhouse. I love these pods-we always have them. We usually use them in fall and winter interior arrangements. The numbers of bunches available were sufficient for my pots. OK, bring on the okra. David and I faced all of those curving pods inward. Like a chrysanthemum flower, or an artichoke. We left the pods tall, so they would represent entirely above the level of the greens. The slight wood stems on the pods would not in any way obstruct the light at the center. Setting the levels for all of the materials for these pots was all about creating sculpture. Those stick bottoms are not visible unless you walk right up to the pots, and look over the greens.  Okra? Few on my crew had ever heard of okra. Over the course of building these winter pots, there was a discussion of okra the vegetable, as well as placing dry pods in a pot.

Though I spent much time melding a design to the available materials, I was not prepared for this outcome. The rice lights were anything but shy. The four strands on two pots illuminates my entire driveway. The okra pods set tall on wood skewers both absorbed and reflected the bright light.

These winter pots are by far and away the best I have every had. That best had everything to do with an unusual choice of materials. The design and fabrication of these pots is all about creating relationships with unfamiliar materials.

The pots are at their best at night. I had no idea that the okra pods would so dramatically provide the much needed weight to the bottom of these pots. These pots glow from top to bottom, and are fiery in the midsection. Having the fabrication of these winter pots scheduled next to dead last has its advantages. There was time to tinker. Time to dream up something different.

The light is delightful and startling.

From the deck above.

The later darkness strips away all of the detail, and celebrates the big gestures.

The full moon looking over my driveway pots? Terrific. So swell. I will admit I was over the moon about every bit of this.

 

More Of The Winter Work

Every Saturday from the first week in November until just before Christmas, I pose a question to my landscape crews. The closest answer to the right answer wins a cash prize. The prize money goes up as the weeks go on-as well it should. The work of doing holiday and winter containers, lighting, and holiday decorating is hard work that requires considerable attention to detail. The design comes first. Then all of those elements that contribute to the construction. And then the installation. Then we start that process all over again-fresh. The staying fresh part is the hardest part. I am very lucky to have a group of people who go after the gold, day after day, for weeks.  That gold?  Excellent and thoughtful work.

My last question before the Christmas holiday was “How many winter and holiday containers have we done this season?” I never want to start the season with a run down of all the work we have ahead of us. We all know we have lots of work, but handling that work one day at a time is how we like to do things. So I wait until we are close to the finish to broach the topic of volume.

199 pots got filled this season, by my count. Salvador won the prize with a guess of 178. Would I subject you to 199 photographs- heavens no. But to follow is a good number of pictures of some of our work this season.



Almost done.

Merry Christmas From Milo

The work run up to Christmas this year had its ups and downs. We were fortunate to have a good many great winter and holiday container and decorating projects. That every one gets done one thoughtful stick at a time means each project takes whatever time it takes. Though we were at it 6 days a week for better than 6 weeks, it became clear we would not finish all of the work before the holiday. The clients whose work will be done next week are not concerned, for a variety of reasons. They were fine that the finish would be later than usual. I was not so easy accepting that state of affairs. I like to finish what I start, on time. What I would have wanted was not to be. The best laid plans do not always work out, do they? I was not so happy that we would be late. One morning last week Dan insisted that he and his crew would be installing a lighted Christmas tree in my side garden. He knew before I did there would no time left over for me to do anything else at home.

He waved off my protest. I am grateful to him for that. I can see this tree out of all 3 rooms on the south side of my house. Prior to this, I should say it is very unusual for Christmas Eve to arrive on a Sunday, and Christmas on a Monday. We had enough work done at the close of the day on Friday the 22nd that I sent my crews home for the holidays. Three days off would be good for all of them. They have worked their hearts out-I can speak to that. The shop would be closed Christmas Eve, meaning I would be home both Sunday and Monday. The snow started about 1pm on the 24th, and did not stop. It was quiet and steady, and then heavy and steady. The Christmas tree inside was decorated, and my presents wrapped and ready. Those ensuing hours were mine, to watch that snow coming down. The weather was not extraordinary, dramatic or visually demanding. The skies were not booming. Those skies were that pale gray that hinted of a lot of snow in the air. It was a quiet and tranquil affair. Over the course of the day, the landscape became draped in white. I was able to watch that unusual Christmas Eve transformation in peace and quiet.

I decided I wanted to take a picture of that tree in the side yard. That would give me a chance to try out a new knee length winter coat, and new snow boots. Of course, Milo wanted to come along. Howard prefers his cozy bed, so we left him behind. I was enchanted when I reached the stairs going to the side yard. It is very hard to give up the gardening season, and that big pot that is always full of flowers all summer long. As I only replanted roses on the south side 2 years ago, that single pot, a surrounding formal arrangement of boxwood, and a pair of chairs is all that draws me to that upper level in the summer. Once those flowers in that large pot fade, and it is too cold to sit in the garden, I shudder for what is to come. I am sure the reason that I have spent better than 10 years keen to learn how to create container arrangements for the winter is a reaction to that loss. It was my landscape super Dan who banished any feeling of loss. That tree, in that pot, in the falling snow, was as beautiful a moment as I have ever had in my garden.

I took a lot of pictures to start. Milo was the steadfast companion that he always is. He picked a spot, and settled in. I settled in, too.  I was warm and dry, so why not wait to see what would develop when the late day light would start changing? We both had coats, boots and gloves. We stayed.

By this time I had completely forgotten about that winter work that was yet to be done. I was home for Christmas – much to our mutual satsfaction.

It was at this moment that I remembered why I became a gardener. The natural world is a world to which I belong. Sometimes I need to be reminded of this. I remembered my membership today. This Christmas Eve day long snow was a great gift from nature. The gifts from nature are legion, aren’t they? That steady snow brushed away all of my concern about the work yet to be done. I was home in my garden. What could be better?

There are those gardening moments that are perfect moments. This was one of those moments.

Buck’s son Stryker could not imagine why I had been outdoors so long in a snow storm. He took this picture of me. The out of doors is a place for me to live, breathe and be, oh yes. I am happy for this picture that says so.

Milo kept me out until just after dark.

That lighted tree from inside? A brightly shining Christmas moment. A landscape and garden moment. The view out the window was a happy view indeed.

Later, that tree is still shining. Merry Christmas!

This post was written in honor of, in recognition of, and in special appreciation for my landscape superintendent, Dan Sass. Merry Christmas, Dan.

Merry Christmas, gardeners all!