tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13349070839264340292026-03-15T17:52:35.078-04:00If you can garden here, you can garden anywhere!Ellen Zachoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15050574906637976116noreply@blogger.comBlogger337125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-90982812441729227182015-04-14T14:34:00.000-04:002015-04-15T07:22:16.533-04:00

I went to Tower Hill Botanic Garden, Boylston MA yesterday to hear Other Ellen (EZ) speak about Back Yard Foraging, her latest book.  (see book cover on left) She is a fantastic speaker! And I went  craving spring color. My raised bed in Exeter NH is still covered with a snow pile . I NEEDED  spring. Tower Hill provided plenty. Of course Crocuses... and Winter aconite (

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-62441828386056981952015-03-24T15:47:00.000-04:002015-03-24T15:47:22.863-04:00

Ben Platt, height 6'1, stands in front of my garden bed in Exeter NH on 2/20/15. I live and garden here.  Ben Platt, still 6'1, on the fourth day of spring. Will I ever garden here? While I wait to garden, I make this photo collage called Icicles 2015. I've used parts of 12 images I captured, cut and pasted.

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-19146052312662604902015-01-22T09:54:00.001-05:002015-01-22T19:19:06.691-05:00

My article 'Preserve your Garden Memories' just debuted in 'Country Gardens' magazine on newsstands, early spring 2015 edition. The article describes four of my garden collages and how I made them. Above, 'New York Memories', which includes cut and torn photos of plants in 'my' rooftop garden in NYC; dried rose hips, pressed hydrangea and marigold petals, Aronia and Virginia creeper berries,

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-13083891306077703602014-10-24T09:49:00.000-04:002014-10-26T08:52:55.078-04:00

The tourists flock to New Hampshire, where I now live, to admire fall color. They bump along this gravel road. Every pond reflects a story. Sometimes the reflection is more interesting than the original. But back in the city, the colors aren't shabby either, and the Boat Pond in Central Park reflects its own glory. The Great Lawn attracts lovers in every season. Climb to

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-54327199087021162002014-08-19T09:04:00.000-04:002014-08-19T09:06:53.448-04:00

The front entrance to my new apartment building in Exeter NH was flanked by an arbor with 10 huge climbing hydrangea vines, about 20 years old. Gorgeous in full bloom, a home for nesting birds all year, it was welcoming even in winter when the strong trunks had a presence. Then management in its wisdom decided to redo the entrance to improve drainage, and some landscape architect decided the

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-80095775261940145562014-07-27T14:18:00.001-04:002014-07-27T14:18:03.393-04:00

The High Line in Chelsea is a victim of it's own success. What once was a quiet oasis above the traffic where Ellen Z. and Ellen S. P. could hear birds singing in the birches, is now a hub of frenzied construction. Buildings on both sides of the garden walkway are springing up, only a few feet on each side of the plantings. (above) But on a rooftop of a co-op on W. 26th,  two women are

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-60975325664986506012014-06-24T08:12:00.001-04:002014-06-24T08:14:30.503-04:00

The first day of summer finds me, Ben and Jen in my new all time favorite garden, Bedrock, in Lee NH. Turns out I'm not so jaded from 20 years of touring gardens with the Garden Writers Association that I can't be moved by this idiosyncratic wonderland. Mowed spaces and meadow intermingle. The creation of the wife and husband team Jill Nooney and Bob Unger,  Bedrock Gardens is on their

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-74827776410502111272014-06-01T07:07:00.001-04:002014-06-01T07:07:28.817-04:00

of the year, maybe the decade, had three elements; chive flowers just beginning to open, blue star amsonia (Amsonia tabernaemontana) in that ethereal color so hard to find in a garden, and chartreuse new foliage of spirea. The trio came from daughter Jen's garden in Canterbury NH, and welcomed us to the guest room on our Memorial Day sleep-over. All are stuffed casually in a bud vase from the

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-27805193508356648392014-05-19T15:37:00.001-04:002014-05-19T15:39:21.742-04:00

 Taking Amtrak from my new home in Exeter NH to NYC allows me to read the intriguing mystery, "City of Veils" and play dozens of games of Words With Friends.When I emerge from Penn Station I'm greeted by a huge dumpster filled with evergreen shrubs and ivy. Is this a sinister omen? No, the vertical garden at the Rubenstein Atrium at Lincoln Center, that I first photographed in 2010...

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-3607401834319358662014-05-04T09:08:00.000-04:002014-05-04T09:08:23.994-04:00

By the edge of the woods, the spring ephemerals are coming into bloom. Last Wednesday, a solitary Trout Lily was closed in the rain. Three days later I spied masses in full bloom. Fiddleheads pop up everywhere. And Marsh Marigolds burst open in the wetlands. A few shy Wood Anemones enchant me. But oh, how I miss the bright lights of New York. Above, the start of my latest collage

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-47117926509126141462014-04-16T14:31:00.000-04:002014-04-16T14:31:44.662-04:00

  Rhubarb in my new raised bed in New Hampshire today on April 16th; it also snowed in the NYC overnight I hear tell, a record snow fall in both places for the date.  The rhubarb crop, one of my faves, was planted by a previous gardener who had been using this plot. I've had legal opinions from a retired judge in Mass, a former lawyer in NH, and a highly opinionated gardener in NYC,

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-84863289114124062872014-04-11T07:52:00.002-04:002014-04-11T07:52:22.031-04:00

above, view of the Exeter River from a trail behind my apartment  NEWS FLASH: Ellen Spector Platt, now living in an apartment complex in Exeter NH,  with favorite guy Ben Platt.  Still gardening in a limited space. Now instead of 85 containers on an 18th story roof garden in NYC, I've been allotted a barely raised 3' X 6' bed, NOT NEARLY ENOUGH SPACE for one who once farmed

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-887098088331361932014-03-16T11:23:00.000-04:002014-03-16T15:46:04.142-04:00

On E. 86th St in Manhattan, a new yoga studio Pure, with the first vertical garden I spied in the city. Astounding in 2008. But within a year, the dreaded scaffolding went up to allow workers to check the mortar of the brick building above, as required by law. Not surprisingly, within three months of all shade, most of the plants had died. Two years after planting, this sign still gave me

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-19574955936332963862014-03-02T08:03:00.001-05:002014-03-02T08:52:15.097-05:00

Around NYC we're desperate for a sign of spring. Yes, there have been sightings of witch hazel blooms at the NY Botanical Garden and snowdrops on Abbie Zabar's terrace but I want my own signs, closer to home. On my 18th floor roof garden I seek and find. Above, real flower buds of  Hellebores, the lenten rose, tucked deep in a container, preparing for the start of Lent next week. Buds

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-6900091988049003292014-02-12T08:40:00.000-05:002014-02-12T08:40:15.238-05:00

I went looking for Spring at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Sure I had to deliver my collage to their art show, Visions of Nature, hanging until March 8th in the Steinhardt Conservatory Gallery. But I NEEDED signs of SPRING and went searching for them at the BBG. INSTEAD, WINTER BERRIES FROM FALL  Nandina provides a shot of color but no feeling of spring.  A hint of a promise, a

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-41030352176996382982014-02-05T08:10:00.000-05:002014-02-05T08:10:06.385-05:00

On the 18th floor of my building, the garden I've tended for 10 years is dressed in snow. A bird perches atop the center of the iron fence.  Plenty of fruits and seeds are begging to be eaten: rose hips, Aronia and Virginia creeper berries, grasses and annuals seeds still clinging. City kids make forts just as well as country kids; the materials may differ slightly. Any signs of spring

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-46396880343246953082014-01-21T16:13:00.001-05:002014-01-21T16:13:32.263-05:00

  For my January birthday every year, my very frugal Mother always splurged on a bunch of daffodils from a real florist. The sunny color was the perfect antidote for the short frigid days of a Philadelphia winter, and made me feel special. This year for $8 I bought 10 fresh tulips from my corner grocer and plunked them in a glass jar with water, inside a birch basket I've had for years.

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-6851775249591677862014-01-10T07:22:00.002-05:002014-01-10T07:27:43.218-05:00

 Mid-November, flowers on my 18th floor roof garden are fading away, and I want to capture the scene in a New York City garden collage. When Other Ellen sees the finished piece she asks about the view of the twin towers in lavender on the left. Straight out of my unconscious mind, totally unplanned, but now I can see nothing else. To start, I pick a few last blooms before Thanksgiving and

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-24607763558696839412013-12-19T07:48:00.000-05:002013-12-19T07:51:04.889-05:00

I made the wreath from fresh greens from New Hampshire (see blog post just below) and now want to add more natural decorations. I raid my stash, buried in a large plastic box in my NYC closet: okra pods and Devil's claw pods (aka cow catcher pods, unicorn plant pods) I grew on my flower and herb farm, still perfect after 15years; locust tree pods found on the streets of Manhattan; stiff neck

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-23337649586664582062013-12-10T16:10:00.000-05:002013-12-11T08:51:49.153-05:00

Greens and lichen from the woods of New Hampshire, schlepped to New York City after a Thanksgiving visit to Jen & Mark Hopkins in Canterbury. Jen and I cut arbivitae, pine, spruce, fir and princess pine from her back forty. I wrap short cuttings onto a sturdy 12" frame with thin wire, aiming for a wild look. Back in my Manhattan living room, I invert a low green bowl on my glass coffee

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-54057583312710975352013-11-14T08:01:00.003-05:002013-11-14T08:32:58.489-05:00

The gift wrap, a recycled plastic bag, dead leaves and brown paper bags inside. But since the gift was from noted author/artist/storied NYC gardener Abbie Zabar, maybe something else of more interest. Inside the plastic, nine individually wrapped strawberry plants, roots carefully shielded, each plant with a rubberband to secure it until planting. Ever thoughtful, Abbie choose one plant (top

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-52587864005825974722013-11-01T08:58:00.001-04:002013-11-01T09:41:42.102-04:00

photo courtesy of Jen P. Hopkins Jen and I push our way off the 23 Crosstown bus and stroll down 10th Ave, on our way to an art gallery and then The High Line. Cars are honking, sirens are blaring and behind a white picket fence we spy this scene. I laugh out loud at the incongruity of largest swath of lawn in Chelsea with grazing sheep. Getty Station a new public art program just opened its

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-23570889042008761262013-10-11T10:08:00.001-04:002013-10-11T10:08:28.055-04:00

Planting my four tree pits yesterday, I got lots of garden advice: Limo Driver with heavy accent to ESP: You're planting the cabbages too high. In my country where I had a big garden I had lots of fruit trees in my back yard. I know you should dig deeper. ESP to Limo Driver: Yes, I agree, but here on the streets of New York, the tree roots have taken over the whole plot and I can't dig down

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-52529802575761974252013-09-29T09:18:00.001-04:002013-09-29T10:00:47.279-04:00

On May 10, 2013, two of the four treewells that I plant in front of my building, each with a pin oak in the center, looking good. On Sept. 26, the same two treewells. The far one looks great, the other, pitiful. Both watered by building staff, both with the same with the same annuals planted lovingly by me in spring. What happened? Other Ellen and I did an analysis. Our pet theories

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334907083926434029.post-19018651397428542032013-09-20T10:03:00.001-04:002013-09-20T10:06:10.370-04:00

On a magnificent last day of summer 2013, I accompanied our house guests to the New York Botanical Garden specifically to see the new Native Plant Garden just opened. Too late for the glory of spring ephemerals and too early for trees burnished by autumn, I wasn't expecting much color, but was wrong thinking the garden would be all grasses. Passing by  the native border we were greeted by

Ellen Spector Platthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07423952859470792007noreply@blogger.com2