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The Garden Designer’s Roundtable: Plants and Memory

 

 

A memory can be triggered by many things.  The smell of lilacs in the spring.  The fragrance of a rose.  A mass of daisies, blooming.  Plants that bring memories flooding back to me mostly have to do with my mother’s garden.  Roses-oh yes, so many roses.  A gingko tree, grown from seed to a spectacular size.  Tomatoes, lettuce, and herbs in pots.  Orchids, hanging from the trees. And the zinnias she grew from seed.  I never see a zinnia without thinking of her. 

But my memories of her aside, the big old evergreen trees that it has been my pleasure to meet make me feel zero at the bone.  Zero at the bone?  A feeling which is primeval.  Elemental.  For me, giant old trees evoke memories that are not tied to specific events.  They may provoke memories of which I am only dimly aware. 

I am sure this sense of belonging to the primeval forest is why it is so difficult to take down a big tree.  Even a damaged or sick old tree.  This client was very attached to a pair of old and weary Norway spruce planted just a few feet from the foundation of the house.  Taking them down was not an option.  Planting more of them at the road, a fitting tribute.  I always admired her reluctance to interfere with with a chain saw.  The landscape had an aura that would not have been possible without those old trees.     

 

These trees may be many years away from  evoking a memory of the primeval forest, but the impulse was there to plant them. 

Giant old trees whose life spans many gererations of people are as rare in urban areas as they are revered.  Old large properties that have never been clear cut to make way for neighborhoods provide homes for old trees.  The steward-gardener who takes great pains to look after them is a person for whom those trees evoke a memory.  In my area, there are old cemeteries whose old trees are spectacular.  Many cities have parks, and for good reason.  Exposure to an old, natural or archetypal landscape is comforting, and thought provoking.

The Estivant Pines nature sanctuary on the Kewenaw Peninsula in the upper peninsula is a protected home to many old pines.  Pictured in the Michigan Nature Association blog, this is the trunk of one of the largest and oldest of those pines. The preservation of these old trees is the result of the work, patience and determination of many-all of whom have a memory that is important to nurture. 

This post is but one of many featured at the Garden Designer’s Roundtable today on the subject of memory and plants.  My special congratulations to Andrew Keys, whose book   Why Grow That When You Can Grow This   has just been published on this very topic.  If the book is as exuberant and sassy as he is, it should be a great read!    

Andrew Keys : Garden Smackdown : Boston, MA

Genevieve Schmidt : North Coast Gardening : Arcata, CA

Jocelyn Chilvers : The Art Garden : Denver, CO

Lesley Hegarty & Robert Webber : Hegarty Webber Partnership : Bristol, UK

Mary Gallagher Gray : Black Walnut Dispatch : Washington, D.C.

Rebecca Sweet : Gossip In The Garden : Los Altos, CA

Susan Cohan : Miss Rumphius’ Rules : Chatham, NJ

Susan Morrison : Blue Planet Garden Blog : East Bay, CA

Thomas Rainer : Grounded Design : Washington, D.C.

Rochelle Greayer : Studio ‘g’ : Boston, MA

 

Posted on: November 27, 2012 16 Comments
Filed Under: Plants, Woody Plants, The Natural World Tagged With:

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
Filed Under: container planting, Plants, Holiday Tagged With: , ,

At A Glance: The Boston Ivy

 

September 2

October 14


October 18

October 14

October 20

October 21

October 21

October 22

October 28

Posted on: October 28, 2012 5 Comments
Filed Under: Color, Fall, Plants Tagged With: , ,

October Light

The picture I took of the sky this morning does not really capture that glowing gold and pink light that warmed everything in the landscape it touched. October skies have those moments that can take your breath away.  This beautiful light blew in like a sudden squall-I could see it would not last long.    

The field next door was awash in pink gold light.  So beautiful!  The intense quality of light in a sunny summer garden is very different than the filtered light of a spring shade garden.  The flat light that characterizes our gray Michigan weather is a far cry from this golden fall light.  When you design, think about what light will do for, or in spite of, your composition.


Light dramatically affects the appearance of a garden or landscape.  I read, and I look at no end of photographs of landscapes.  A landscape photographed under that very special and ephemeral October light looks dramatically different than a landscape photographed in the glare of the summer sun, or the gloomy light of winter.  Plan for both. 

I do think light is a key element in good landscape design.  Dark areas may ask for chartreuse leaves or white flowers.  Bright areas may ask for something entirely different.  Dark foliage and shapes may benefit from a sunny placement.  Great landscapes stand up to, and engage whatever light is the daily special.  In any event, a consideration of the light, no matter the season, should play a considerable part in the design process.  When I photograph a garden or landscape, I wait for that natural light that will make for the best picture.  But I cannot count on that light for more than a moment. 

The nicotiana in the shop garden has been delightful since late May.  Who knows why the planting was never plagued by aphids.  I amazed that they did not go out of bloom entirely during this summer’s scorching heat.  This level of investment in nicotiana was in spite of my better judgment.  Who has any idea how a plant will fare in any given summer season?  I bought a ticket with no options for a change or upgrade. I was lucky.  The nicotiana still looks beautiful.  In the light this morning, this mass of nicotiana looked great.  I was faithful about the water, and the care, but how they look in mid October-much about the nature of the season and the low light.

Our farmer’s market was similarly endowed by the gorgeous October light this morning.  Every pumpkin was on fire-irresistable in form and color.  Light does an incredible job of describing forms.  Hve the idea to assess the effect of light?  Look at your landscape every day, in all kinds of weather.  A tree viewed from the front side of the light appears incredibly different than a tree which is back lit. The low angle and intensity of the early morning golden light made everything in my immediate view look good-vibrant and juicy.    

Julie’s Floral at the Oakland County Farmer’s Market specializes in fine and unusual 4″ plant material, water plants, vines, dahlias, and topiary plants from the very beginning of the market summer season to the end.  They also grow cutting flowers.  The light this morning made their flowers glow.  Did I buy?  Oh yes.     

This group of pumpkin stacks looked especially good this morning. A stack of pumpkins is not so much my thing, though I would applaud the sculptural look of a 10 or 30 of stacks.  Set level, and in a shape or arrangement that enchanted my eye.  Some expression asks for lots. The sculptural look of these stacks this morning was much about the light.  

Chinese lanterns, or Physalis, mature in October.  Their color ranges from gold to intense orange.  Given the gold light this morning, I could not take my eyes off of them.  They glowed orange.  The rectangular shape and pale green color of the stems, in contrast to those orange lanterns, tell an engaging visual tale about the fall garden.   

Fall asters-their willing bloom and clear color make them a favorite in a fall garden.  This morning they were achingly beautiful.  That October light made me want to take all of them home. 


Marlene had bunches of peppers suitable for drying for sale this morning.  She is a first rate grower, horticulturist, and farmer.  She is an outstanding gardener and grower.  I can count on finding what I never expected from her.  The colors of her peppers were so brilliantly saturated.  Laying eyes on these bunches made me so glad that I had gotten up early.  How any gardener chooses to light their garden, and their gardening life- extraordinarily important.

Posted on: October 13, 2012 Leave a Comment
Filed Under: Plants, Color, Fall Tagged With: , ,