Dark Days

Light is such a powerful element in the landscape- critical to the well being of plants and people alike.  The story of how light from the sun reaches the earth is astonishing.  But more importantly, light is life giving, and life sustaining.  There would be no garden without it.  No wonder that at that time of year that the light is so low in the sky, and shy to show itself at best, the garden sleeps.  Would I choose to hibernate if I could?  No.  I like the daily schedule-the dawning of a new day, the close of the old.  My garden has no need of a daily dose of vitamin D.  It sleeps.   

I am awake by 5:30 am, and still awake at 9:30 pm.  This means I am spending a lot of time in the dark. The light retreats early this time of year.  At five past five, the landscape is largely dark.  On a good day, the sky is still streaked with the remains of the light of the day at 5pm.  The light sleepily emerges, after 7:30 am.  Lighting the winter landscape is naturally on my mind.

No artificially generated light could possibly replace the light that comes from the sun.  A sunny spring, summer, fall, or that rare sunny winter day-enchanting.  Those seasons, days, and times when there is little in the way of light, gardeners have options.  Votive candles glowing in the winter season-not so much a representation of the light from the sky, but a special kind of light with its own warmth and charm.      

The landscape can be beautifully, and differently, lit in the winter.  I took this picture at the shop very early in the morning.  The holiday incandescent lighting is very different than the light on the fountain-courtesy of a photocell light on the building.  Different kinds of light in concert makes the night view more interesting. 

The loss of the summer sun-there is nothing to be done for it.  This means that any effort to light the night will cheer the lot of us. The work of lighting the winter night can be as simple as a lighted pot at the porch or a garland hung in a tree.  It can be as festive and inviting as what you see here.  I hope next year to convince them to light the underhand of the tower.  This would wash the second story with a little light.   

The bright lights here come via one of Rob’s light rings, and the lights in greens in the window boxes.  The light washing the walls is too strong-I think the fixture needs to be further away from the wall, or the wattage in the fixture turned down.  Some light needs to be soft, and some light should be strong.  Thoughtful visual punctuation, and rhythm is important to successfully lighting a winter landscape.

Winter light is entertaining at a time when not so much outside entertains.  Once the snow comes, the light will be all the more interesting, given that stormy relationship.  Winter lighting is anything but uniform.  It is directed.  This creates opportunityfor a lot of visual drama.  Stand outside in the dark, and imagine how and where some light would delight you.

The materials for lighting your night are readily available. Extending a warm welcome has never been easier to achieve.

At A Glance: Other Holidays

 
2003


2004

2005

2005

 2006

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

2011

 

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.

 

Halloween Light

The new landscape lighting got done just in the nick of time-for Halloween.  What a difference it made!  Little kids in costumes with skirts ands pants that were extravagantly long could negotiate my steps with ease.  Those with big wigs, masks, elaborate costumes, and knit caps to ward off the cold, had some light to help them get to the door. 

The lights positioned outside the front door made it easy for me to see every costume, and every face.  Though one places a premium on scary at Halloween, a well lighted walk and destination makes for an experience of the landscape that is more fun for everyone.  The puzzled looks you see here-my French friend Matthias asking each trick or treater “who are you??”.  Each reaction was immediate, and unfiltered by a dark meeting place.

Though many of my pictures are blurred, they tell a story.  This is my once a year contact with the kids who live in my neighborhood.  This is their once a year interaction with me. The new landscape lighting helped all of us to see each other better. 

My arms are still aching from carving 6 giant pumpkins.  I will never again be fooled by the label-“carving pumpkins”.  I somehow thought these carving pumpkins would be thin walled-easy for a florist’s knife to handle.  This pumpkin had walls every bit of 2 inches thick.  Hours it took to carve them.  I did put 7 votive candles in each of my pumpkins-Buck thought I was nuts.  But I am used to the light from the pumpkins supplying all of my Halloween light.  Last year, the nest of gourds that I usually set my pumpkins on would not have been visible. This year, the light from the eaves makes them part of the show.  The work was worth it-it showed.  


The porch was a well lit place.  This was a good thing, considering that it was cold, and spitting rain.  It interests me that landscape lighting can provide so much atmosphere for an event-or a garden.  Last week, the lighting was friendly-all about illumination.  Halloween night it was all about a little drama.  The shadows cast by the lights-just as scary as the holiday.

Though the work of the carving was a lot, my pumpkin pots were looking good.  Lots of fire on the inside.  Enough light outside to reveal their shapes and stems. 

The look of this pumpkin without light from above would have told but half the story.  More kids asked about my pumpkins this Halloween than ever before.  Many kids asked me if they were real.  The lighting made all the difference to the presentation.   This exterior lighting is making the many dark months ahead seem less dreary.  Even intriguing. Some thoughtful landscape lighting-I recommend it.