Sunday Opinion: The Season

Our remarkably cold spring has helped make more than a few things clearer to me.  Every year I encourage gardeners to plant for spring.  In the fall, and again come spring.  It can be one of the lovliest times of year in Michigan.  There are the spring bulbs-literally thousand to choose from.  Some are small and subtle-others are big and showy.  They are easy to plant- little brown orbs that only need to be popped underground.  They are completely programmed for a spring display- the day they go in the ground.  There is no better representative of promise and hope than this;  an early spring blooming bulb you can hold in your hand, and dream of the future.  Part of the party-plant as much as you can, as fast as you can.  That fall dirt will indeed be chilly.  

 The spring flowering bulbs are not the only party going on in the spring.  There are the wildflowers-an equally large group.  The spring flowering bulbs are exotic looking-meaning they are native to countries other than ours.  They look other-worldly.  The wildflowers are native.  Their wild and subtle beauty speaks to the celebration of the natural landscape-wherever you may live.  A nod to the native landscape-this is a pleasure for any gardener.  Phlox divaricata is one of my favorite wildflowers-that blue is unforgettable.  Michigan has more species of native orchids than any other state, save Florida.  Many of them bloom in the spring.  Should you be a gardener who also watched the Royal wedding, I am sure you spotted the long fronds of blooming Solomon’s Seal in the flower arrangements at Westminster.  Were they not beautiful?  There is a spring season.  I would encourage you to celebrate the spring wherever you may garden.

Perennials that represent beautifully during the spring-there are plenty.  I could list my favorites, but that is not my point.  If you do not have some part of your garden which is devoted to a celebration of spring, you will spend a few months longing for another time, and a different circumstance.  My garden has Magnolias, hellebores, European ginger, crocus, daffodils, crocus, tulips, trout lilies, PJM rhododendrons and sweet peas-I have a whole lot going on in my garden in the spring.  By mid March I can sense change in the air.  But dinner on the deck featuring homegrown tomatoes and basil is a long way off.         

There are those cold tolerant spring container plants-why would anyone do without them?  The pansies, violas, primula denticulata, ranunculus, lobelia, annual phlox, alyssum, and ornamental cabbage-all so beautiful.  My favorite combination this year-Creme Brulee heuchera, dark violet pansies, lavender and peach violas, and cream yellow alyssum.  I have some ideas about what fuels the urge to skip spring gardening.  We have four seasons in Michigan.  Spring, summer, fall, and  winter-each last about 3 months.  Our spring has been terrible really-very cold and very rainy.  But this is what we have now-for better or for worse.  Given the prospect of a really cold spring, there is that idea to skip it, as it might be short and fleeting.  I still plant for it.  The beauty of spring plants is such that the risk is well worth taking.  Some years my Magnolia Stellata blooms but 2 days-I have already had over a week of it this year.    

I have clients who wish to plant their summer annuals May 1.  They wish to follow up with planting vegetables May 10.  As much as I understand the idea to try to lengthen the summer beyond 3 months, nature is remarkably uncooperative in that regard.  Annuals and vegetables planted too early, in really cold soil, with cold night temperatures-they struggle to survive.  Should they survive, they are set back.  They may never recover the entire season.  Tropical plants set out too early in cold soil-it will take a lot of time for them to recover from the insult.  The insult?  Pushing the season.  No matter what any of us long for-the seasons turn when they will.  The turning of the seasons apply to all of us equally.  You gardeners for whom a garden is a sacred way of life-nature  could care less about your passion and committment-you will be on nature’s schedule no matter what you do. Plan ahead for a spring garden.  That garden reigns the better part of three months. Stave off the need to plant for summer too early-plan for a gorgeous spring.

 If you have a mind to skip the spring season, and challenge the opening date of summer-be prepared to plant twice.  Of course I have planted summer flowers too early.  Clients have events that are important.  June is such a tough month to plan for.  An unusually warm spring can mean the spring flowers are looking tired in June.  A cold spring can delay the summer plantings-which in the best of circumstances will not look at all grown up in June.  Summer annuals just get looking good in July.  Some years, the summer annuals never get really good.  Investing in gardening is a risky business-there are no guarantees.  No promises can be made.  Plants can die.  A planting scheme can turn out not at all how I imagined.  When I get too concerned about the prospect of failure, or too worried about the risk, I try to remind myself that act of making the garden is as important as the outcome.  Does any summer flower look anything like a forget me not?  Is there a reasonable substitute for dogtooth violets or violas in June that you know of? Pots of pansies and voilas just get looking good in June.  I have had them go on into July.  A beautiful spring is out there, in one form or another.  I would chance it, given that I cannot substitute one seasonal experience for another.      

The truth of the natural order of things will be told.  Ity is not tough to spot plants that are suffering from cold-they have that look about them.  Those gardeners that do not plan for a spring season can be tempted to plant summer annuals way too early.  They forego the beauty of the pansies, violas, and annual phlox for geraniums or begonias that are not prepared to survive outside a greenhouse at this time of year.  They plant out tomatoes the first of May; they buy their tomato plants a second time, once the summer weather sets in.  The end of May usually brings the beginning of our summer season.  It can be a week early, but it is just as likely to be a week later.  I plant my own summer flowers in June.  Given warm soil, they take off and grow fast-faster than plants that have been planted in cold soil.   Rushing the spring, hanging on to the summer too long,  editing the fall, ignoring the winter-this never works.  A life seriously imagined, and experienced in the present-a life well lived.  The changing of the seasons informs, and guides.   

No doubt it has seemed like our winter went on forever, pushing spring out of the picture.  Last spring-the best I ever remember. By best, I mean cool and surprisingly mild.  This year, miserably cold and wet.  Yet both seasons are well within the parameters of what we can call spring.

Sunday Opinion: Making An Overture

I know, this Sunday Opinion post is better than 24 hours late-sorry!  My weekend was packed with the best sort of thing- lots of company. That would be people, convening, over the garden.  Our first spring event ever at the shop, in celebration of our 15th anniversary, was a success.  What makes me think this?  We had lots and lots of people come-maybe more people that had ever been in the shop before-all at one time. There wasn’t a parking space for blocks.  Old friends yes, but many new people as well.  We made an invitation, and people came. All the gardeners who came-this made for the best part of the weekend. My friends in the nursery business who brought plants to sell-Bogie Lake Greenhouse, Julie’s Floral, Bordine’s Nursery, and Wiegands Nursery-it was great to have the chance to go public with those relationships so important to me and my business.

Everyone with whom I spoke to especially liked that other garden businesses were welcome and represented at my place.  Why would I leave them out?  Gardeners are willing to drive great distances for great plants.  Gardeners shop everywhere they can.  They know what is out there.  They know who does what well.  This place has swell dwarf conifers, and this place grows stellar geraniums, and this place specializes in water plants, and that place grows great fruit trees, and yet another place specializes in rare perennials or wildflowers. Want a tree-go here.  Should you want to see an important collection of rhododendrons and azaleas, go here.  Other garden businesses are not my enemy, they are my community.

Detroit Garden Works specializes in certain things.  We go to great length to represent fine ornament for garden.  We stock container plants that we love.  We stock plant material for the garden and landscape of size and age.  We are by no means a full service nursery-we specialize in the process of how a garden and landscape gets put together; we specialize in design.  We are good at that service that I call coaching. We do not grow-we buy what is well grown.  You were invited to meet those growers and landscape professionals I treasure. Great landscape professionals-you came to check out my choices.  It made for a great weekend. Many many thanks.

I intended to make that point about community at our spring fair-not one person missed that.  A business has that opportunity-to speak up about what they believe in; I took it.  To that end, a great garden takes a lot of work.  A great garden asks for some shopping around-and a lot of travel.  Should you be interested in doing that great thing on your own, shop at the farmer’s market before I get there.  Go lots of places, trust your eye.  Figure out what matters to you.  Read my essays-I am open about how I design, what I look at, what influences me, where I go-what stymies me. I have not one secret up my sleeve.  I only have my point of view. I promise to never make you work too hard to find out what my point of view is.  Take it, or leave it-no harm, no foul.  Absorb what you have a mind to, and move on.  I might help you-your choice.  It is your garden to own. We are all in this gardening thing together-are we not? Should you catch me in the shop, I am happy to tell you that point of view, face to face, as best I can. 

 A person interested in design on a more comprehensive basis-I do that too.  I can take a new house just finished sitting on a mound of dirt to another level.  Whatever problem I might see that I cannot handle, there is someone in my community I can direct you to.  My idea is about better landscapes.  Gorgeous gardens.  Better communities.   I want to be a part of that.  We are not the be all or end all-we are part of a group that helps people to have a landscape or garden or both-better than they thought they could have it. 

I am keenly interested in landscape and garden design.  However that happens, whether I am involved or not-enchants me.  Great landscapes are much more about thoughtful and enduring relationships than they are about lindens, or classical Italian terra pots.  About saying hello, and happy to meet you.  And then, about listening.  Later-planning.  Later yet, about older and solid relationships.  The lesson of the spring fair?  Any relationship is all about making an overture.  My design clients-I need to be sure I am inviting them to share in that process.  I need to be available.  In the shop-we need to be sure to issue regular invitations.  If you are a gardener, we intend to scoop you up, and invite you over.

I could not be more pleased about the response to my invitation to stop by and celebrate.  Thanks so very much.

Sunday Opinion: Community

So much of horticulture is really about community.  Plants have very specific requirements in terms of soil, light, water, drainage, exposure and winter hardiness.  If a plant does not get what it needs, it will languish at best, or die.  Plants requiring similar conditions would indicate a community, would they not?  This part can get tricky. 

 Good gardeners understand vigor.  Some plants are robust, chatty, and spread their cheer with abandon.  To have them is something akin to being occupied by an army.  This phrase, a line from a poem by Marge Piercy –  I have never forgotten it, as it is so seminal to the art of gardening.  The art of gardening that comes after one has mastered the basic science of gardening, that is.  In this group, I would put butterburrs.  They own a spot in my garden bordered on one side by a concrete curb and driveway.  The other borders-I maintain.  OK, I police the butterburrs.  A local nursery digs them out of my yews, my driveway and my hosta garden, and grows them on for sale.  They do me a big favor.  I would not want to do without them, but they are a poor candidate for a community.  A desolate boggy place needing plants by the thousands-they are happy to oblige.  Gooseneck loosestrife is another such plant.  Should your garden require a a bed the size of Indiana, plant a few.  In this group, I would place baltic ivy, ostrich ferns-you get the idea. 

Other plants are hesitant growers.  They lack self confidence, they are fussy, they find the reality of community overwhelming.  They may be beautiful, but they whisper.  In this group, in my zone, certain roses, heaths and heathers, big leaved rhododendrons, lupines and delphiniums.  What gardeners call plant habit might better be understood as plant personality.  A description of plant habit seems a fairly cut and dried affair, reeking of science.  Personality-a big fluid topic.  A consideration of personalities can better inform your decisions about what garden communities you intend to sponsor. 

My roses tolerate the community in which they live.  They tolerate the asparagus and hibiscus that they live with,  they ignore the vigously growing boltonia. The roses somewhat benefit from the Japanese anemone that covers the ground, and conserves moisture.  No relationships are perfect, but this community garden has prospered.  Every voice gets heard.  The climbing roses love the heat of the south facing wall.  The only exasperated voice-me trying to wade in there to deadhead the roses, or read the gas meter.  Peace is not necessarily about a lack of voices.  It is more about the balance of voices.

My small patch of meadow features panic grass, echinacea, hyssop, and monarda fistulosa Claire Grace.  I have to intervene on occasion.  I chop out pieces of the grass, and fill those holes with soil-the grass would overrun the entire bed, given free rein.  I do not plant fancy new hybrids of echinaceas here-I need vigor more than I need an unexpected color or form.  Hyssop can be fleeting in my zone-I have to replace them on occasion.  I am not an impartial observer here.  I am a supreme court justice, enforcing the law.  This community thrives, given some stern intervention.

I had big beds of baltic ivy when I moved here 15 years ago.  The lily of the valley has no problem representing in spite of its tangled thicket of stems and roots.  Both plants race and spread, equally.  If you have ever had occasion to dig out baltic ivy, you know from whence I speak.  Running a rototiller through an ivy bed-hold on to your hat; golf cleats would be an excellent idea.  My stands of crocus look fragile-nothing could be further from the truth.  They suffer the cold, snow, and sleet as if it were nothing.  I have had ample evidence of that these past few days.  Their slender leaves come up through the ivy like a warm knife negotiating a cold stick of butter.  Though they appear to be delicate, they write a definitive essay about determination. 

I am a fan of rupturewort-herniaria.  I have planted lots of them, in two separate communities.   I observe that they like good snow cover, and protection from wind.  Rupturewort can be good, or it can be horrid, given the character of any given winter. I want them in my community-so I do what I can to insure their success.  I protect them.   What I learn about plant community informs everything I do in the landscape.

Our first ever spring event is this coming weekend, April 9 and 10.  This I planned last fall, anticipating the fifteenth anniversary of the shop.  We planted every garden at the shop with spring bulbs.  The front gardens-2600 tulips.  The driveway garden-a glorious mix of many hundreds of hyacinths.  I planted hundreds of containers with all manner of spring bulbs.  This spring has been cold and slow-but I did prepare for a community gathering as best I could.  I have invited growers and landscape service people whom I buy from and admire to bring their spring plants, and information about themselves. 

The garden industry-I am a member of that community.  We all have our strengths and our quirks.  Should I not have something a client needs, I send them straight away to that place that could help them.  Other plces do the same for me. We are by no means a full service plant nursery-we have specialty plants.  This means whatever we take a fancy to at that moment.  We are willing to talk about why we choose this, and not that.   Other places have more selection.  Our greater community-some are big and strong, some are small and very personal.  All of us have our own personalities.  But to the last we are committed to great plants, great gardens, great landscapes-and great service. Should you have the time, please stop by.  My idea-a celebration of my professional and my client community is a good thing for everyone involved.        

Lots of what I know about plant communities has to do with experience.  I try things.  Should they not work, I try something else.  It may take years to get something right.  I view most things through this gardening lens.  The group of us are bound to get something right. Spring in Michigan is fast and fleeting; I invite you to participate in our version.  All of us would be so pleased to see you next weekend.

Sunday Opinion: Bel’occhio

My first exposure to Thomas Hobbs and his partner Brent Beattie was an article in the July-August 2003 issue of Gardens Illustrated.  The article featured their extraordinary nursery, Southlands, located in Vancouver.  One shockingly beautiful, full page black and white photograph of their century old English glasshouse full of tropical plants-I have never forgotten this photograph by Arthur Meehan.  I subsequently read every word of the essay, and remembered.  The 1.5 acre nursery seemed beautifully laid out, and stocked with an astonishing range of beautifully grown plants, and great looking pots and urns of every description.  I do think Gardens Illustrated is the finest garden magazine in print on the planet-I have every issue, and I reread them regularly.  Their interest in Southlands-better than well deserved.  I aspired to the Hobbs/Beattie eye for beauty many years ago; I am happy to report that Southlands is still there, thriving.

Rob usually takes a holiday in the winter; just a few weeks ago he went to British Columbia.  He made his first personal visit to Southlands. He tells me the nursery was packed with people-people who are passionate about gardens, and people who need beauty to live.  Though the Gardens Illustrated article was published 8 years ago, his photographs confirm that their committment to their place has not waned one bit.  How I envied him his visit.

Rob brought me a copy of Thomas Hobbs’ book, The Jewel Box Garden, not knowing I had bought a copy the year it came out in 2004.  My library could easily stand 2 copies of this book-it is that good.  Over the past few days, I have reread the book, given Rob’s visit.  This reading is different than the first.  The first time around, I was captivated by his use of tropical plants in pots.  Phormiums, agaves, bananas-his gestures were bold.  How he used plants made his point of view eminently clear.  Make every square inch of your garden beautiful-why not?    I admire any designer who has great confidence in their eye.  The confidence to construct a coherent world-down to the last preposition of their language.  Such is the sensibility that characterizes Thomas Hobbs.

This reading, I was struck by how well he writes.  I was also much more tuned into his writing about bel’occio. Bel’occio is an Italian word which literally translates as “beautiful eye”.  He makes no bones about the importance of an eye, a life that demands beauty.  “Not everyone recieved the bel’occio gene.  Those of us who did are the lucky ones”.  I have been thinking about this for a few days.  There are plenty of things I see in the landscape that are not beautiful.  I have no plans to create a forum to address that-I keep those thoughts to myself.  I am not a critic, I am a landscape and garden designer. 

 Sometimes I see things that in my opinion are outrageously ugly-but I try to resist putting my camera or my words to that.  Routinely I see popular ideas about the environment bandied about- without any demonstrably firm foundation in science.  Everyone is entitled to their opinion-I have no need to wade into that.  My idea for my life-create something beautiful. Talk about, illustrate, engender, participate in, felicitate, stand up for the beauty that a love of nature can endow.  My camera, my words, my design-these pursuits are fueled by my energy.  I have some rules about what I put my energy to.  I am interested in the natural beauty of nature, and in creating beautiful places, beautiful gardens, beautiful landscapes-beautiful moments.  My energy is governed by the demands of my bel’occio gene.  I think this is a good use of my life.

No one gardens because it is easy and fun.  No one plants and cares for a landscape because they have nothing else to do. No one puts their hands in the dirt without passion.  Growing plants from seed, growing vegetables to eat, planting pots or perennial gardens, designing and planting landscapes, -all of this is a natural result of the bel’occhio gene. Many thanks, Thomas Hobbs, for explaining this so eloquently.