Garden Portraits

Lady Slipper

2009-05-26T17:54:00.004-04:00

What a nice surprise greeted me in the woods last week! The elusive ladyslipper made an appearance after a few years absence. It tucked itself away across the yard from where it last made an appearance. I'm so happy to see it again in my woods! I'm so glad it found a home here again despite the contruction of a nearby play area that upset it last time. I hope my maturing garden will offer it the peace it needs to decide to stay around this time.

Symbols of Friendship

2009-05-19T10:48:00.004-04:00

Two years ago, my friend Sara bought me tulip bulbs for my birthday. As we sat sipping mojitos, she turned to the page in the catalog with the deep purple, fringed beauties that she thought would look lovely in my garden.

The next spring, I waited expectantly for my tulips to poke their heads out of the ground. They never did. The year following, I again waited hopefully to no avail. I was convinced that the chipmunks had gotten to my birthday present.

Sara moved across the country to California last autumn. She was the doctor who diagnosed my celiac, helped me through infertility, and delivered my daughter. Through a difficult time in my life, she became one of my closest friends. We shared a gardening passion, and had similar interests about environmental consciousness and healthy living. We also shared what was in our hearts. Sara was there for me to cry on, lean on and laugh with for the last 7 years. A piece of my heart will always be with her.

Last week, a lone purple, fringed tulip came up in my front garden. I know now that Sara will always be with me too, no matter how geographically far apart we are.

Waves of Color

2009-05-18T17:06:00.010-04:00

This is the first year that my gardens really look like GARDENS and not just plants stuck here and there randomly. After five years of working the soil on this property, plants are starting to fill their spaces. The Japanese Maple is becoming a real tree and not just a stick in the ground with a few red leaves. The strawberry patch has filled out and is laden with white flowers. My 15 rose bushes have established themselves, revealing healthy green stems and shiny leaves that should burst with color in a few weeks.

I am most excited that I am getting waves of color. Proper planning, so far, has ensured that something is blooming in my garden at all times. We started the spring with pastel crocus and anemone. Rather than a small bag of bulbs, we planted dozens of early spring flowers last autumn. Crocus popped up in my three main gardens. I'll be sure to plant them in more spaces this autumn because the wow effect was amazing.

After the early spring flowers came the yellow daffodils and forsythia followed by a splash of multicolor tulips with dots of forget-me-nots and lamium. A lone purple tulip that was given to me as a friend showed its head this year and ushered in the purple azaleas. They soon splashed as background colors to my specimen plants. I have spent a few years moving around the azaleas I first found on this property to place them as backdrops for dramatic effects. Ground cover phlox also serves as a background in my main garden and the purples are dominating at the moment with lilacs ushering in the start of prime flowering season.

And now come the Iris. I have moved them over the years to take up a healthy section of my tiered beds. They are spreading and make a dramatic focus. Watching their progress, I realize that nothing will replace them in that spot when their blooms are spent.

After ten years of gardening on my own, I think I have learned the genius of perennial gardening. Waves of color, planning to include plants that bloom at variant times, spreading and moving plants to create the greatest impact, learning plant habits in blooming times and desirable conditions...that is the joy of gardening. I can almost feel what a plant needs by watching it as it brings its show to my yard and caring for it until it can return with its color the following year.

Signs of Spring

2009-04-02T20:24:00.005-04:00

Up come the flowers, out comes the camera. Welcome crocus. I'm just warming up.

Spring Squall and Rushing Away Unfavorable Weather

2009-03-23T13:10:00.006-04:00

We headed into the garden for some spring cleanup and very early planting this past weekend. I haven't hauled out the good camera yet...but here are some snapshots of events.

We cleaned up the twigs and branches from the ice storm back in the early winter. Some of the larger branches remain under the snow. We began clearing straw from the gardens. In the first picture you can see the tender bulbs poking through. Some of the bulbs were coming up white, choked from sunlight and chlorophyll production by the ground covering. Chomping at the bit in the 50 degree weather, I ran to the local garden center and purchased some very early to plant seeds. the packages say they can be put in as soon as the ground could be worked. Swiss chard, forget-me-nots, Bachelor Buttons, and sweet pea went into the ground as the weather turned. Wind howled and an unexpected snow squall scared us back into the house. Oh well, I know spring weather is really just around the corner now.

My seeds from Territorial came in the mail today. It's still another couple of months before I can get those in the ground, but I'm prepared.

I'm also eager to write about gardening again. This summer, I will be teaching a class on photographing and writing about nature at the Peabody Mill Environmental Center in Amherst, NH.

Today I'm back indoors with temps hovering around 30 degrees fahrenheit. This is a good day for prepping photos to hang at Uncanoonuc Mt. Perennials. Every year I am lucky enough to get space in the garden centers cabin to hang my work. I'm raring to get into their display gardens again for more camera work.

Every year around this time, my daughter and I chant "Melt Snow Melt!" Won't you please join us? It is very cathartic.

Spring!

2009-03-21T21:39:00.005-04:00

I hit the garden today...just a little spring cleanup. The snow has melted from the majority of my beds. I don't think I've ever been out this early in the season before. But I've got big plans this year. My decade of gardening, interviews with fellow gardeners and last fall's publication of my book have inspired me. I feel like I have hit a pinnacle as a gardener. I'm ready to really trust my instincts and to run with my ideas.

I've got two pathways that need a lot of work and this is where I'll start. I've mustered the courage to try the mint in these areas, despite their invasive tendencies. I want pathways that my daughter will smell when she walks on them. I want the scents to trigger her memory all her life. Whenever she smells mint, she will think of gardening with mom.

We returned the fairy objects to the fairy garden today. My daughter has big plans for this garden. Mainly, she plans for the fairies to return. Last year they brought her a shiny pink marble that resembles a star sapphire. They also brought a necklace of tiny sea green glass. She wants the fairies to come back early this year. She worked hard for two hours laying out marble pathways to the two fairy houses that remained standing despite the ravages of winter snows and wind. I'm sure those fairies will return.

And this year, last year's vegetable garden will become a pumpkin patch. This is my third year vegetable gardening. The vegetables will return to the bed they originally occupied two years ago and will also be spread among perennial plantings. A gardener friend of mine lets her vegetables run wild -- tomatoes especially spread to unlikely wildflower beds and beyond. I like the idea of walking among the flowers and finding a surprise edible along the way. We'll see how well planning out "random" vegetable plantings goes.

Growing season spreads before me with grand opportunities. I hope that the snow melts faster!

Displaced Creativity

2009-02-03T21:59:00.003-05:00

Groundhog's Day makes me feel like spring is around the corner - even when the groundhog sees his shadow (as he did this year).. and even when it's really not just around the corner (I do live in NH after all and we don't see spring until summertime...)

I didn't get the greenhouse I desired this winter, but I have kept myself busy. I am a home decorator at heart. I try to bring my garden indoors in my design. I hang my garden images, but I also try to use nature inspired color and themes. This winter, I have been redoing my stairwell. Unfortunately, I didn't think to get a "before" image, but here is the after...I hope that it stirs your creativity.

Don't despair those in the northern hemisphere! We'll be in the garden soon!

Flowers and Tradition

2009-01-15T11:40:00.003-05:00

I have written in the past about flowers and tradition. It amazes me how interwoven flowers are with many of our celebrations. Yet, I think that most of us do not give much thought to this. With Valentine's Day approaching, I think it is appropriate to explore this phenomenon in more depth and in upcoming weeks, I hope to come back to it a few times. But today...I am going to focus on how special flowers can make an occasion for a child.

This past weekend, my five-year-old daughter performed in her first play. "Don't forget to get her flowers," another stage-mom reminded me. "The kids love flowers. They get very excited." And it's true. Don't we all love to get flowers? But why does this little tradition excite even a five-year-old? Wouldn't just taking her out for an ice cream (as my parents did) or hot chocolate (as we do here in New England because it is so darn cold right now) be enough?

Here are my thoughts... #1 getting flowers seems so very grownup. #2 the bright colored flowers are special in themselves and remind the little ones of the "specialness" of an occasion. #3 having something tangible to remind us of a special occasion for a few weeks keeps the excitement going just a bit longer.

I wonder, are flowers just appropriate to give to a little girl - especially a little princess-type girl who has just performed in Cinderella? Would a little boy like to get flowers too? (I'll leave this to mothers of boys to answer for me.)

In the past, I have given my daughter flowers for Easter, for trips to the Farmer's Market as "just because" the flowers were fresh and beautiful gifts, and for ballet recitals. Flowers are interwoven into our lives mainly because of my deep love for gardening. My little one understands that it is important to hold nature in high regard and to cherish the bright living jewels it gives us in the form of flowers. But I think this appreciation has also come outside the garden -- from the traditions we are slowly establishing that weave plants into her life. I hope that she will always see a bouquet of flowers as something special, to include in special occasions, to show pride and love.

My Bit of Winter Sunshine

2009-01-07T09:58:00.005-05:00

I am one of those people affected by Seasonal Affective Disorder. When winter comes to New England, I just want to sleep through the season. I drag myself out of bed and follow some steps to shake off the winter blues. In addition to regular exercise (I find yoga most helpful,) I take vitamin D supplements and use a sunlamp.

My sunlamp is one of my most prized possessions. It is about ten years old now. It's a large box, about the size of a small suitcase. When I turn it on, the room takes on a surreal glow that is a bit eerie. I sit about 3 yards from the lamp while I do my computer work and slowly feel myself begin to perk. It's not exactly like gardening in the sunshine, but it is a close enough facsimile of sunshine that I can close my eyes and pretend I'm really at the beach if I want. Behind my eyelids I see that telltale glow that one gets when sunbathing.

During warmer months, I sit out in a sunroom that look out at my gardens. This time of year, I move to an interior room where I won't see the snow. The room is painted a warm sunshine yellow and my sunlamp warms the color further. The color reminds me of sunflowers.

My sunlamp is also useful for still life picture taking and unusual portrait taking. It rakes subjects with a warm light and help create unique shadows.

I hope that I"ll never have to go back to my life without my little box. This morning, as ice once again pelts my house, I sit here with a cup of coffee, listening to my five-year-old giggling as she plays a computer game. I let the sunshine absorb me and transport me to my garden sunshine happy place.

A Winter Test

2008-12-22T11:41:00.006-05:00

My "green thumb" was tested last week during the New England ice storm. I am primarily an outdoor gardener, but I have a few prized houseplants that I have nursed to healthy heights. In the past, I have purchased houseplants to get me through the winter - to add a little greenery to the white and gray that surrounds us in New Hampshire this time of year. Every year, after a month or so of care, I slowly forget my houseplants. I stop watering them. I stop feeding them. I stop talking to them, stroking their leaves, and moving them around the house to cheer them up. But one plant in particular has not cared how I treat it. My peace lily is about four feet across. It was given to me by my friend Sara when I moved to this house four years ago. It is a symbol of our friendship. It is also a symbol of nature's strength because no matter how it is treated it thrives, giving up beautiful white flowers in my most tiresome winter moments.

Last year, I made a concerted effort to change my houseplant habits. After reading a book called "Growing Me" by Judith Handelsman, I had a new-found respect for my potted greenery. My houseplants have grown immensely in a year. Plants that languished without care for years, took on new life, blooming and slowly creeping out of pots. Last winter, my peace lily flowered multiple times instead of just once like it has in the past.

Last week, we lost power for four days. As my house grew colder than the outdoors, I watched my peace lily whither. While we stayed warm in a family member's apartment, I left my houseplants behind. On day three of the cold, we gathered the cats from the house and brought them with us. The houseplants were still left behind. On day four (before the power returned) my husband and I came to the house to check the temperatures of the pipes and otherwise make sure the house was safe. I walked past the peace lily. It looked awful and cried out to me "Goodbye, Melissa." I responded, "I'm sorry, I can't help you! Please try to hold on!" It was heartbreaking.

A very good friend of mine lost all of his tropical fish when we all lost power. Last year, we watched his tanks getting built into the basement walls when he had the room finished. With pride, my friend added coral and brightly colored beauties to the aquariums. Last week, we went to their house for dinner the night the power went out. They have a gas stove and we don't, so a simple meal was prepared in a darkened kitchen. Our kids played "watch the monster!" They ran into the basement with flashlights and asked me to join them, making shadows on the walls for entertainment. I turned my light to the fish. A clown fish bobbbed up and down. "Help me!" He cried. "I'm sorry, I cannot help you," I replied. He was gone the next morning.

When the power returned to my house. Most of my plants, with the exception of the ferns (surprisingly) appeared despondent. "I am so sorry!" I thought as I looked around the room while the heat slowly rose. I stuck a finger in the soil of each pot. They were still slightly damp, but very cold. I walked around the house a couple of times that day, feeling the life of my houseplants, but unsure which way they would turn. The next morning, the peace lily had two leaves perked up. "I'm going to give you just a little water buddy." Over the course of the day, slowly, each plant perked up. "I thought you were goners guys. Thanks for coming back!" I felt the life in the house again.

Living without power for a few days brings a heavy heart. Sure, we had a place to go, but we obviously missed the conveniences of modern living in our own space. But among the worst of all, trudging through our empty, lifeless house was terrible. There were no sounds , no refrigerator humming or heater pumping. Beyond that, there was also no pulse - by that I mean there was no feeling of this shell being our home. Large tree limbs had fallen around us. The rooms were dark and we were unsure when that would change. The houseplants stood as a symbol of mother nature's test and of a slowing pulse of life.

Over this past weekend we received about two feet of snow. While I was shoveling walkways this morning, I thought about the plants under the snow. I could feel their pulse. They are resting up for their spring duties. The snow serves as a blanket, unlike the deadly ice before it that despite its twinkling brilliance served only as a threat of nature's threatening powers. It is my goal this winter to keep feeling the pulse of nature. I want to feel that cosmic thread with my plants, wherever they are and in whatever stage of life they are maintaining this time of year. As I do every year, I will get through this test. Maybe if I am more clever, I can learn to enjoy this season.

Changing Light

2008-10-30T16:07:00.005-04:00

Autumn sunlight allows the photographer to create truly unique images. In the northeastern United States, the golden hue the sun provides when it is low in the sky provides an incomparable warmth for pictures. This time of year is my favorite for capturing portraits.

Observe the effects of how this light highlights hair and boosts the glow of complexions. Mind how the light boosts colors and molds form.

Use the colors from nature to add interest to your backgrounds. Use a wide-lens aperture to take advantage of light and blur the background for softness and interest.

Shadows in fabrics and around facial features makes it seem as if you can reach out and touch the subject.

All seasons we must use directional light for the greatest effect. Light should be guided by a tree line, porch or other object. Light coming from all directions is less appealing, making the subject flatter and duller.

Light flowing through the garden and other natural spaces has the same affect on natural subjects as it does on humans. Now is a good time to take "portraits" of the season last flowers, leaves that are clinging dearly to trees, and other elements of the landscape.

From Sunlight to Warm Rich Color

2008-10-28T13:26:00.004-04:00

I love this time of year, as the last of the early fall sunshine fades to warm rich color. New Hampshire is past its "leaf peeper" peak. Many of us live in New England to experience this transition every year. The last pink buds on my fairy rose are in bloom. The mums are beginning to dip and the asters are fading to brown. I bought a new perennial sunflower this year that has happily lasted well-beyond my intentions. Its flowers now kiss the ground under the weight of the cool autumn raindrops. The intense reds, yellows and oranges of the beeches and maples around my property are now a burnished russet, reminding me of the colors of warm baked pie crust or caramel apples from our recent harvests. These warm satisfying earth tones will soon be gone, replaced by bare trees and then white crystals. But, for now, I feel warmed inside by these rich colors. Pumpkins sit on stoops, waiting for kids to ring nearby doorbells for trick-or-treating in a few days. And then it will be time to prepare for my favorite holiday and I reflect upon how thankful I am that nature has given me this feast for my soul.

Thinking Books...

2008-10-27T13:31:00.004-04:00

I found this great quote while looking for ways to publicize my new book online:

"I was reminded of the neatest thing about writing a book in the first place: the author’s obsession, developed over years and often nurtured in solitude, finally becomes a shared point of reference through which readers can look anew at some aspect of the world."

While interviewing the gardeners for my book last year, I felt that I had learned to see the world in new ways. My love for gardening grew. I better understood my place in nature. I am excited to share my views and those of my new gardening friends with others. I set out to write a book with a positive spin that showed the peace we can find when we connect with nature. I hope that I have accomplished that and will help others look anew at their gardens.

Putting the Garden to Rest

2008-10-27T12:03:00.002-04:00

The leaves are falling. I'm getting ready to buy straw to lay on the beds. Most of the vegetables have been pulled up and the garden is turned over. I'm clipping back perennials and doing some last bits of pruning on the bushes. Winter is on its way. Every year at this time, I reflect on my garden accomplishments of the past year.

I filled in some holes in the garden with new perennials. This will be a main focus next season as well. I moved my vegetable garden, but I won't know if this was an accomplishment until next year. The vegetables were sparse and tasteless. Was this due to the new location or the odd cool and rainy weather we had? I built a "fairy garden" with my daughter and the fairies brought us two presents -- a smooth pink marble and a small beaded necklace. (The excitement was palpable when my daughter discovered the gifts. I would say that building her love for the magic of nature is a HUGE accomplishment.) I moved a few bushes and grasses, making room for more healthy growth. I added a new garden that will eventually serve as a grand entrance to my back yard...at least that's how I envision it. And yes, I can't forget...I finally figured out how to successfully cultivate compost. But... I guess my biggest garden accomplishment was out of the garden. I finally published the garden book I've been working on for a year and a half.

So, do the accomplishments outweigh what didn't get done? I haven't finished the garden path I started to my daughter's reading garden two years ago. I have piles of garden rejects -- twigs and branches, whole trees, and other scraps -- that remain behind numerous garden beds, creating an eye sore. (Maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised next year and have a great supply of compost beneath the brush!) A tree is falling down in my woods. I didn't even know where to begin with that and hope that maybe it's really on my neighbor's side and not mine. I look forward to watching the snow drip from it. The invasive weed I hoped was eradicated last year was back this year. I didn't give it as much attention is I ought to have and fear that it will be back in full force next season.

A gardener's work is never done, but now it is time to put it all to bed. In another couple of months I'll begin puring through catalogs again, making sure I've got all my notes about the gardens in order, and dream of new projects.

The Gardener's Soul

2008-10-25T17:35:00.003-04:00

Published at last! I've taken a break from blogging to finish up my now published book, "The Gardener's Soul: Nature's Path Toward Inner Peace." Information about the publication is available through Createspace, an affiliate of Amazon.com.

I hope to be back to my garden blog on a regular basis! I've missed everyone.

Garden Fashion

2008-08-08T11:33:00.005-04:00

I have a close friend who is a shopping guru and under her tutelage I bought my first designer outfit last week. I am now a huge fan of Susana Monaco. I know nothing about other designers, but I fell in love with a Susana Monaco top. I went home without buying it at first, but I couldn't get it out of my head. I went on-line and found all the Susana Monaco I could possibly find. I realized that the shirt I saw in the store was actually a Susan Monaco bargain. I went back to buy it a few days later and it was on sale! The top looks really good on me and I feel brilliant in it. What a coup! You see, I usually settle for the ten dollar t-shirts at Target and sometimes splurge on a chic, yet practical, dress and solid pumps. Why shouldn't I give myself a treat once in awhile. Shouldn't our attire make us feel good?

I have noticed that I feel differently dependent on how I dress, even when I'm in the garden. When I grab the ripped t-shirt; when I don't bother to do my hair; when I wear my muddiest, stiffest, most disgusting gardening shoes, I don't feel quite as...well, quite as pretty. I am at my gardening best in my comfortable exercise shorts that make my butt look good, a well fitting colorful (non-ripped) t-shirt, and a pretty baseball cap to tuck in my generally unruly hair. My best shoes are a pair of old sneakers that are not too old and stiff. (I just can't get into the "crocs "fad. not my style.) I wear my red polka dotted rain boots for bringing items out to compost on wet days or dewy mornings. I splurge on a new pair of colorful gardening gloves whenever I can. This attire is not expensive or fancy, but I take the time to care for myself and can feel pretty in my bones -- even after I get the whole darn outfit covered in mud from head to toe, for I am truly a messy gardener.

I have noticed that some women even like to wear pretty dresses in the garden. I find this practical for harvesting time. I like to pick berries in a dress. However, this ensemble is impractical for digging and general yard work. I am happiest in a long flowing, colorful skirt. Color is key! I can feel like I am one with the garden when I match the most vibrant flowers. On occasion, I'll even do my hair and envision myself in a garden fairy story. I favor the ones set in Victorian England among acres of romantic landscape. When I dress this way, I also sometimes grab a camera to take self-portraits in the garden. Vain? Perhaps. But portraits of myself in the garden in fancy clothes remind me how special the place is to me. I will remember feeling special in my garden forever just by looking at my pictures.

How do you like to dress in the garden? Do you have favorite items to wear? Do you dress for the garden with care or just throw on whatever happens to be on the floor? How does dressing up in the garden make you feel? How do you dress outside of the garden?

The Meaning of the Details

2008-08-07T20:42:00.006-04:00

Today I began a brick path leading to my gazebo. As storm clouds and thunder rolled in, I also outlined my gazebo shade garden with brick edging. The garden now has more definition. As I gardened, I began thinking...the beauty is in the details. Containers with pretty pots; a rustic wooden fence as a backdrop; stone paths; arches covered in vines; fairies tucked under hostas -- the details are what make the garden special. Beyond color schemes and plant varieties, the man-made elements of a garden call attention to the gardener's handiwork. I will finish out this season further defining pathways and tucking visual elements into the setting to put my stamp on my landscape. After all, showing our unique talents and viewpoints is part of what gardening is all about.

There is an area of historical study called "material culture." I was speaking to a friend about this yesterday. Material culture involves the study of the symbolism and hidden meaning of man-made objects. It involves looking at artifacts to determine what a culture or individual meant by the creations they left behind. One can examine a garden for its beauty. Or, one can dig even further and seek to understand the gardener through an examination of her style and the incorporated elements in her garden.

While researching my book, "The Gardener's Soul," I was especially struck by this method of understanding the gardener when I met a woman with very high end artistic taste. Her garden was tastefully peppered with fine art sculpture such as a bench by a well-known local artist. Tucked in one corner of the garden was a little gargoyle. He seemed out of place amidst the expensive stone artworks. He seemed an ordinary piece of garden whimsy. I wanted to know what this little piece of sculpture said about this gardener. Her garden was meticulous. The plants were in neat rows with neat pathways and few weeds. In conversation, I learned that this woman liked to feel in control of her surroundings and her life. Yet, I could feel that this deeply organized and image conscious person had a wild side that she kept close to her. When I mentioned the seemingly disparate gargoyle, she gave me a sly smile as if I discovered a little secret.

Faces on my trees; a sign that reads "If you are a fairy princess please come in"; a cat weather vane, Buddhist sculptures; curvy pathways -- all reveal different aspects of my personality. I wonder how people would read me if they ventured upon my gardens without a tour. Mom? cat person? Buddhist?

What secrets do your garden objects reveal about you? Or, are you conscientiously shouting a message to the world about yourself?

Amending Your Soil

2008-08-06T06:58:00.007-04:00

The compost was finally "cooked" yesterday -- my first bin -- effectively completed in three years. I started with anaerobic rotting vegetables, loyally adding more and more until the bin smelled and the whole thing looked like poo. Then I decided to do some reading. I thought, "Really! How hard can this whole thing be?!" And it truly is not difficult, once you learn to punch holes in the bin, add a little water (not too much,) and add some little microbial helpers to get the job done. The end result was not the "black gold" I had been told about. It was more mushy, but that tell-tale black color was there. I buried it in some of the gardens yesterday. Three years worth of goop that barely filled two of my smallest gardens. I have still have my 3 largest gardens to amend and some other small ones. I've got to get my black gold produced faster. Once I learned how to do it properly. it took about three months. I'm going to save up for one of those rotating barrels so I can "make great fresh compost from start to finish in 3 weeks..." At least I think that's what the ad said.

One of the "garden centers" I visit regularly has put out a call to Ban Naked Soil! I put garden centers in quotes because Susan's Perennials is really a large backyard garden turned garden center by a local retiree. The garden is known for its gorgeous daylilies in rainbow colors. Susan also grows tremendous hostas. She is a remarkable garden conversationalist, spouting off information for anyone lucky enough to find her jewel of nature. Susan sporadically sends e-mails with information to her customers. "Ban Naked Soil!" caught my eye because I had decide last year to no longer use shredded bark or small wood chips for mulching. I've been told that they leach nutrients out of the soil as they decompose. I haven't yet researched how accurate this is, but since I don't like how the chips look anyway and they are very expensive, that was enough for me to ban them. Susan uses a combination of chopped leaves, grass and other yardwork leftovers to cover her bare spots. I have piles and piles of such castaways in my woods. I need to find an inexpensive way to chop them up and then plan to cover my beds for a fall project.

I'm constantly looking for ways to amend and protect the soil. Last autumn I covered the gardens in straw before the first snow fall. It seemed to work well, but since we had a mild winter I'm not sure it was necessary. This summer I've been using a seaweed and / or fish fertilizer. It stinks like a beach here at times, but the plants really do seem to like the stuff. Soil amending is actually fun. As a nod to yesterday's post, I should mention the book "Secrets of the Soil," which taught me to be more present with my soil. As I amend, I think about all the critters I'm making happy.

Awe

2008-08-05T07:41:00.006-04:00

This month's Organic Gardening magazine includes an article entitled "The Professor's Plot" that discusses the gardens at Clemson University. It relates the story of the school's heirloom garden and how the professor "transformed a slope of slick, worn out clay into a showcase organic garden." The last sentence of the article really struck me, relating the philosophy of the garden's caretaker. "And remember that monotonous work --weeding the garden, sorting beans -- allows the brain time to contemplate, question and be in awe."

I think the word "awe" is the most apt description for the ultimate gardening experience. Merriam Webster defines awe as "an emotion variously combining dread, veneration, and wonder that is inspired by authority or by the sacred or sublime." It is a feeling I get every time I allow myself to be present with nature. I often times allow my mind to wander to business, chores, and the day-to-day chaos. When my mind wanders so, I am not living in the moment or practicing what the Buddhists call "mindfulness." It really is to our advantage to practice mindfulness as much as possible. This allows us to feel the full impact of "awe." When in the garden, mindfulness allows us to be fully in touch with nature and life's wonders.

As gardeners, we have all had moments when we were profoundly awe-struck. A smell recognized from childhood, a beautific newly opened blossom, small raindrops on our eyelashes...when we notice these incidental and miraculous offerings of nature, we are practicing mindfulness. The awesome beauty of the moment touches our heart and eases our soul when we take in our surroundings with all of our senses.

The comfort of our home garden, filled with our most beloved plants can trigger awe. But sometimes, when we need to get out of a rut, a new surrounding can revive the sensation. This weekend I had a lovely visit with my sister in Narberth. Located right outside of Philadelpha, the village or Narberth is filled with sensational small gardens with riots of color. In my neighborhood in suburban / country New Hampshire, large expanses of green are dotted with flowers. Because of my sister's urban setting, the color was more visible and profound. Small gardens in front of closely spaced houses welcomed visitors. Swaths of long established roses climbed trellises and fences. As we walked sidewalks to get to the park I admired hydrangea, sunflower, and coneflower. Just like Clemson's clay slopes, the city setting is often remarkable for it's ability to harbor a garden. Where the garden seems the antithesis of the urban environment, it instead provides a perfect balance. A good urban garden helps us stay in touch with nature and reminds us to be mindful of that which is not man-made.

At the train station, gardens welcomed curious cousins who played alongside the parking lot. Nature provided us with the perfect setting to play out a long awaited reunion. I spent the weekend getting back together with family. My days were unplanned. Children's baths were unhurried. We flew by the seat of our pants. It's nice to let go once in awhile, so that we can appreciate the little things in life that bring us awe and remind us why we are here in the first place. I hope to return to my own garden today. I see that the weeds have grown and new flowers are opening. The tomatoes are turning red. August is a time of great change in my garden as rudbeckia, aster, mums, and other preludes to fall begin to rear their heads and make their statements. I am always struck by this change. Today I hope to let myself feel that change with all the awe I can muster.

Book Review: People with Dirty Hands

2008-07-31T20:35:00.004-04:00

People with Dirty Hands: The Passion for Gardening is a book of naked gardener Truths. Author Robin Chotzinoff reveals her shortcomings up front and relates that it is the adventure of gardening that attracts her and not the perfection of it. Robin allows us to visit others' gardens through her eyes as she takes off on exciting journeys across the United States -- season after season -- constantly seeking gardeners' wisdom while learning about different gardeners' styles, plant preferences, and reasons for gardening. She visits friends and strangers and seems to reach out to those whose gardens attract her by word of mouth. Chartzinoff reminds us that gardening is a never ending learning process and a constant adventure.

Chotzinoff flits from topic to topic and I sometimes find her transitions jilted. However, the book consistently brings me back on track when she dives to the heart of gardeners' desires and sense of purpose. Her focus on what drives gardeners brings her from New Mexican hot peppers to Maine perennials. She discusses people's passions for individual plants, their love of landscape, and their reasons for loving the act of gardening itself. She discusses how varieties of personalities are attracted to gardening for a variety of reasons. She relates how people bond with nature and how the garden allows us to step outside of ourselves and our real lives. When we commune with what we grow, we find freedom from whatever ails us and bond with something that heals.

At times, Chotzinoff's imagery is poetic and passionate in paragraphs such as: "I did not grow up in the presence of direct light. We lived nine floors up in a very nice nine-room Manhattan apartment on the Upper West Side. The only way to see the sky was to open the window wide and stick your head out far enough to look straight up." This type of exaggeration is especially appealing and strikes me. I grew up in New York and see this as a typically New Yorker view of the world. Chotzinoff's humor ranges from subtle to sarcastic and comfortably tickles my funny bone. Both Chotzinoff and I have left our "native land," but our New York roots are still firmly grounded. I also appreciate her description of her relaxed gardening style. she reminds me that it is okay for my garden to be as at is. One must appreciate one's garden just for its existence, wherever it is, whatever form it takes.

I found most appealing Chotzinoff's chapter entitled "Long Island Roots." Here she seems most honest and relaxed as she relates her relationship to her Aunt Cookie who was and is the impetus for Robin's own gardening. Within the chapter, she describes the wisdom Aunt Cookie imparts and how her own love of gardening grew as she watched her beloved Aunt. The chapter discusses the correspondence of niece and aunt and the things that Chotzinoff has learned from their garden talks including "You really have no control over a garden. You may think you do, but you don't." She talks about the comparing gardening notes, acknowledging what you don't know and living with it, how gardening is cathartic, and how the imperfect garden is perfect in its personal nature.

In short, this book provides a strong sense of a community of gardeners, including friends, strangers, legends, and relations. No matter how we differ in what we grow, where we live, what land we tend, or our circumstances, a good gardener learns to go with the flow. We can all relate to that true passion for gardening and how dirty hands bring us peace. Thank you to Carol from May Dream Gardens for adding this book to her book club.

Ten Gifts I Received in the Garden This Week

2008-07-29T20:13:00.005-04:00

10. Kids reading in my thoughtfully constructed "fairy princess reading garden"
9. A broken shovel (An excuse to check out some new tools!)
8. A summer sunrise
7. Clouds with a purple underside and glowing pink top
6. Birds Singing
5. A deer crossing my driveway as I returned home (bonus: the deer was nowhere near my vegetable garden.)
4. A frog passing through the yard to show my best friend's little boy
3. Watching my daughter with her butterfly net in hand
2. The first tomatoes and zucchini of the season
1. Time alone to commune with the surroundings

Change for the Sake of Change

2008-07-28T15:42:00.003-04:00

I like change. Some people have told me that this is an unusual trait. If things stay the same for too long, I feel like I'm in a rut. I get restless and miserable. For example, I have had three or four different careers in my "short" 37 year existence. (Three or four different careers -- at least -- depending on how you look at it...It's actually all quite complicated.) I also feel the need to constantly change my domestic setting, which is usually accomplished by moving the furniture around in my house. My husband says he is always prepared for things to be in a different spot when he returns home at the end of the day. (A couple of times I think that he was driven by me to move us to a new home when things got really dire. I probably ran out of new ideas for furniture arrangement.) I find that I make most of my changes in spurts. These include a few creative days in a row when ideas are flying at me and I can't sit still.

This weekend, I went on a mad bout of weeding and pruning. It must be termed a "mad" bout because I couldn't stop myself. It started innocently enough. I purchased a bunch of plants on Saturday and that gave me the bug. I found spots here and there throughout the garden for the new perennials and in the process, I moved a few old things to highlight the most recent treasures. I just kept going, from bush to plant -- trimming and rearranging. I decided to tackle an azalea. It is a much loved bush for it is big and bushy with lush flowers in the spring. And I must say that my talent for growing azaleas is not supreme, so I am proud that this one is in pretty fine condition despite my lacking abilities in this area. But over the past few years even this azalea has gotten more overgrown and somewhat unhealthy looking. It was beginning to take over the path to the backyard and was harboring leafless branches underneath. I cut drastically and in the process of trimming back this azalea, I realized that it was really three bushes and not one. AHA! Bonus!

At 6:30 this morning, I woke up to do my exercise routine. By 7:00 I couldn't keep with it any longer...Like a lightning bolt, I figured out where to move one of the azaleas. It was clear immediately after pruning that at least one had to go. I tiptoed by my daughter's room and grabbed the shovel. (In my enthusiasm, I broke the handle of said shovel...luckily I had another or I would have had to use my bare hands.) Within 15 minutes I had delicately wrenched the plant from its home and moved it beside a rhododendron down the lawn. Not too far from the remaining two azaleas resided a hosta that always bothered me. It sat by itself at the corner of the house -- so out of place and lonely. I moved it to the empty spot left by the azalea, giving the area a neater, small garden look, rather than the look of a clump of bushes planted together by the original non-caring landscaper who was probably just looking to furnish a bare yard.

For me, that is one of the best things about gardening. It is easy to alter my gardens. They are better when I move things around every so often. If I don't like the change, I can move it all back pretty easily. I can keep something one way until I tire of it and then rearrange it. Or, I can wait until nature takes over and makes a transition for me. Gardening is never static. Best of all, since the garden is my domain, I don't have to answer to anyone. There is no need to say "Honey I moved the coffee table so don't trip over it on your way to empty your pocket change."

A Passion for Weeding

2008-07-21T18:51:00.005-04:00

I have a strange passion. I love to weed. This does not seem to be the case for many other gardeners. (Am I mistaken about that?) For me it's relaxing. Weeding is like meditating. No, it's like walking meditation. I don't have to sit still, which is very difficult for me, and I get some peace and quiet. Sometimes I can clear my mind. Sometimes I write stories in my head. It's a catharsis when I'm upset about something. I use the time to solve all my problems or empty my head of negative thoughts. Weeding makes me feel whole and comforted. In fact, it is probably one of my favorite things to do.

The main problem is that I don't have as much time to weed as I would like. I don't mind that when I finish weeding the yard I have to start all over again -- I don't REALLY mind. But, I would just once like to see a whole neat and tidy yard before the weeds strut their stuff again. Yesterday, I was quite pleased with a whole neat garden and today the weeds are poking through again. (How do they do that so quickly?) My other problem with weeding...well, I once had lovely long polished fingernails. I gave up trying to keep them during the summer time. In the wintertime, they spend the season recovering from their summertime trauma.

When I was young, my dad would weed wherever he went. He weeded our gardens in long sessions. He weeded on his way to the mailbox. He weeded after he went running, on his way to the pool...whenever. He not only weeded whenever. He also weeded wherever. If we were standing in a neighbor's yard and he saw a weed, he would pluck it. From what I remember we could travel 1000 miles to visit friends and my dad would start weeding their yard. I am turning into my dad. The other day I found myself apologizing to a friend for picking her weeds. Last week a friend sighed and told me that she had to go home to weed. I volunteered to help her -- only too glad to branch out to another person's weeds. It actually turned into an even greter thing than I expected. She supplied the wine for an impromptu weeding party. I highly recommend weeding with a glass of wine at hand!

I have a game I play. I have a brick path that leads around my yard. Any time I walk on this path, I must pick a weed. If I skip it one time, I must pick two weeds the next time. Is this crazy?

My favorite type of weeding is the messiest kind. I stick bare fingers deep into wet soil and yank the plant out by the root. In general, I weed with gloved hands, stooped over or on my heels. I try to bend at the knee when I can. When I bend at the waist and catch myself, I begin to wonder if I will like weeding as much if I have a bad back in ten years or so. I supposed that I could always get one of those wheeling seats for gardening, but I think that would ruin my rhythm a bit. I do not always weed a complete plot of land and move on. I twitter about. Sometimes I go for the big weeds first. Sometimes I go for obvious ones and weed multiple gardens at a time. Sometimes I pick a certain kind of weed, such as dandelions and remove all of those from the yard. Sometimes I weed a little then prune a little then go back to weeding. This year, I seem to mostly be weeding a different patch of garden each day. I'll use a hoe once in awhile, but it's not as thrilling as using my hands and the metal part of my hoe comes off the stick. ( I haven't gotten around to fixing it or buying a new one in 7 years. I don't take great care of my gardening tools, truth be told.)

Weeding by hand allows me to be closer to nature. I adore worms and this is the best way to get to know them. I can thank them for the work they do. I can really experience their expertise when my hands are in the dirt, releasing the weeds from the aerated soil. I appreciate individual plants more when I see them eye to eye. Brushing against lavender as I go is a special treat or seeing a favored plant beginning to spread itself across the garden. This is the closest I can get to the wonders of my gardens.

I wonder if others enjoy weeding as much as I do. What is your favorite way to weed and do you enjoy it?

Monarch Migration

2008-07-20T19:19:00.003-04:00

As monarch peak season approaches in my area of the country, I am reminded of my sister's love of butterflies. We often found her hanging out in trees or running through neighbors' yards with her braids swaying in the breeze. she spent all summer long with a butterfly net in hand. One year, Liz decided to "tag" monarch butterflies to track their migration. She placed her address on little tags, caught a large number of butterflies, put them to sleep, then glued the tags to their wings. When the butterflies came to, they staggered around the yard, drunk from the alcohol used to label them.

My butterfly bushes should be in bloom within the next few weeks. That's when my butterflies arrive. If we decide to help with the butterfly tracking, we will follow the advice from MonarchWatch. Every kid I've met enjoys butterflies. (Though now that I think about it, my little impish next door neighbor from childhood enjoyed pulling the wings off them. I recommend that you steer your child away from this particular activity.) Tagging butterflies is a great way for them to learn about science and geography.

My daughter has her own butterfly net and like my sister, she is a little red-head. I can just see her now, sitting in trees and running through the yard with her braids sailing in the wind...

Kids in the Garden

2008-07-19T11:08:00.007-04:00

Each month I try to post ideas for kids activities in the garden. I realized that I missed last month. I need to set a day each month to do it so it gets done. So, since I thought of it today and today is the 19th...the 19th of each month will be the official day for posting about kids in the garden. I know of other garden bloggers posting "columns" the first weekend of the month, the 15th of the month, and the 30th of the month. I figure no one has a lock on the 19th!

Before I start with some new ideas for kids activities in the garden. I must mention that our sunflower house seems to have failed. I have very bad luck with sunflowers. They grow short and scraggly or not at all. Next year I will try one more time in the sunniest location on my property. The sunflower plot is backed against the woods this year and I'm afraid it is not getting enough light. The year before I think the chipmunks stole the seeds. We also wanted to participate in the Great Sunflower Project, but since we can't get the sunflowers to grow we have to skip it. I figure at least my daughter has learned that gardening is not perfect. We will have some disappointments.

One more update about a past activity...the reading garden is a huge success! Yesterday my daughter pulled her best friend into the garden and announced "No grownups allowed!" They sat on the reading bench together READING! Woohoo! Freedom in the garden is important. Creating secret hideouts and exploration are all important parts of their outdoor learning.

A new found garden activity that we enjoy together is singing. I explained that gardening is fun because it is such a quiet activity that you can chat or sing while doing it. So the little one pulled on her gardening gloves and started making up songs about mother nature. "We love plants. Plants are gooood, ooooooo." I decided to turn it into a little lesson. I asked why she thinks plants are good and she told me they are pretty. So, I told her about how plants take in the carbon dioxide that we breathe out. They turn it into oxygen so that we can breathe. "Plants are good...ooo...they make oxygen. yeah, yeah! oooooo!" (sing this song to your own tune or try Twinkle Twinkle Little Star -- one of our personal favorites.)

Yesterday I encouraged my daughter and her friends to take a break from play to try some of the first raspberries and blueberries of the season. They clamored for as much as they could get. There is nothing like sharing fresh fruit off the bush with kids.

Playing with garden creatures is super fun stuff. (Just don't let your child name a frog it finds and then find one that looks like it dead in the pool the next day. "Mom? MOM! Is that Jackie frog? What's wrong with Jackie frog?!" Tip: The best thing to do is to empty the strainers and scan the pool before your child goes for a dip.) We've begun hunting for butterflies since they are starting to frequent the garden more regularly as their favorite plants are flowering. My daughter has a net to catch them. We then transfer them to a bug house and watch them for a few months before releasing. We have also included other bugs in our hunts. We had grasshoppers and ants visiting at one time. Hunting for small bugs is a great activity because a. It keeps the little one busy for an hour and b. it encourages the child to focus, looking really closely at nature to find really small things. Our intention is to pick up a bug identification book this summer so we can learn more about them. My sister Liz, who is still known for her butterfly catching prowess twenty five years later, sent my daughter a Live Butterfly Garden for her birthday. The set we have is made by Insect Lore. The box contains a cage for the butterflies, but you have to mail away a postcard and three dollars to get the caterpillars and food. (I thought it was a little cheesy that they want three more dollars from us after my sister bought this nice gift. If they really need the three dollars, why not charge it right off the bat? Three dollars isn't a lot, but it seems like they've already been paid...Perhaps I'm just being too cynical?) We will let you know how the butterflies grow.

We have also spent time pressing flowers. We have a fancy press (two pieces of woods with large screws at each corner) from Oriental Trading Company. Most of my life I've used heavy books with pieces of papers in them. My daughter and I go for bike rides and she collects the wildflowers in her front basket. We have wildflower identification guide that encourages her to check off what she finds. Some of the specimens we use for drying are also from my flower gardens. The skinnier the flowers work the best. Flowers with fat blossoms take longer to dry and sometimes mold or turn an ugly color before we complete the process. I'm sure there is a fancy way to prevent this, but this is a pretty simple project. The drying takes about a week. When the flowers are ready, we make collages, taking photographs of friends, cut pieces of colored paper, and adding our own drawings. These make great cards! When I was young, my mother and I put the flowers in our photo albums. As an archivist I must add that though this is quite pretty, it is very bad for your photographs. The organic matter will eat away at the papers. Instead, make copies of photographs or better yet, photocopy the flowers. (My high school art teacher makes beautiful pieces of art out of scanned flowers and has exhibited the work in SoHo.) Allow kids to be creative with the originals, scans, or photocopies. Hone their artistic talents while teaching them about science.

With bugs, fresh fruit, flowers, and musical entertainment we are having a great summer. I hope that you are too. Happy exploring!