Waves of Color

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.

The Meaning of the Details

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?

A Rose is a Rose?

The award winning 'Julia Child' stands alone. (Well, in this picture it stands next to some baby cleome.)

I've always been the type of gardener to let color and texture guide me. I know the general name of flowers, but not specifics. I think that is about to change.

I have mentioned in the past that I am crazy about roses, but now I believe I am straddling the fanatic stage. I have twelve rose bushes to date. I know that I have two varieties of fairy roses. I also have a 'Persian Yellow'. I picked up the Persian Yellow because the tag said it has a "strong licorice" fragrance. I love licorice so I considered this a sign that this plant was meant for me. (Don't ask what signs I received telling me to get 11 other roses in the past 3 years. They just called to me.) The rest of my roses are unidentified. I'm sure that I have their names in a file somewhere, but what they were called never mattered to me really. Now as my collection grows, I realize that I must learn the names 1. to avoid the danger of having a garden full of fussy roses (as we all know they can be) and 2. So that I don't duplicate my purchases for despite the immense variety of roses, I tend to gravitate towards particular colors and leaf shapes.

The realization that my lack of knowledge is a problem came today while I was researching a plant I admired in another garden. I am now on the hunt for a 'Julia Child' rose. Its yellow blossoms are splendid and I was told that it is very easy to grow. When I looked up the rose on the Weeks roses website I learned that the flowers have a spicy licorice scent. Could this be the yellow rose I recently purchased? I ran outside to see if I left the tag on the flower and luckily I had. The flower is a "Persian Yellow," which with more research I learned is fussier than Julia and blooms only once. 'Julia Child' blooms all summer long. Wow!

Tucked in the recesses of my brain, I knew some roses bloomed longer than others. I know that some of my roses get black spot and others don't succumb to diseases at all. Yet, when I am standing in the garden center in front of a beautiful rose, I get weak kneed. Nothing else matters except the color and fragrance of the rose before me. But I have so many rose choices and it seems that I should learn to choose more wisely before I run out of space...before I miss out on fabulous plants like the 'Julia Child'. I need to learn more about my hobby.

The trouble with my chosen hobby is that there really is so much to know. Besides the the plants themselves, we also must know about soil, bugs, weather, etc. etc. I have a master's degree in another field. It seems like I should acquire one in this arena too to become a really good gardener, even if it is just for a hobby. After ten years of gardening, I still find myself staring blankly at other gardeners if they delve too deeply into latin names.

So how to proceed? I once gardened alone -- without talking with other gardeners except an occasional conversation at a garden center. When I became a garden photographer three years ago, I began talking to the professionals at the garden centers even more. When I decided to write a book about gardening last year, I began to talk to people just like me. I interviewed backyard gardeners who have picked up the lingo over time. One can learn a lot through in-person gardening companionship, online browsing and correspondence, and reading books. I am also considering working toward a master gardener certification.

I've learned recently that a rose is not just a rose. Each has its own personality and it's time for me to get to know them a little better.

Spreading the Love

I took my dear friend Regina to Uncannonuc Mt. Perennials today. I love our girl field trips! Her son Leo accompanied us and was content to play in the sandboxes that are so thoughtfully provided so mommies can spend more time looking. Our girls were in school. I controlled myself today. I bought two sedum that I eventually planted in a place for which they were not intended. So, I need to return soon to pick more plants to fill the spots that were meant to be filled. But the golden color of Sedum rupestre 'Angelina' is striking and the plant requested that I place it at the top of our very long driveway for everyone to see when they drove up. The plant did not want to be placed next to last year's "very boring" (the sedum's words not mine) green sedums I planted last year. Sedum is another new found passion. It threatens to get out of control like my new hydrangea passion, but I digress...

How much fun is it to shop for plants with someone else? And even more selfishly fun for me, my dearest Regina is not yet a true gardener. (See May 4 posting for what makes a true gardener.) How much more fun is it to shop with someone who knows little about plants so asks for your opinions on what to get? It is starting with a blank slate. It was pretending that I don't already have ten rose bushes, ten azeleas, six hydrangea, two St. Johnsworts...well you get the picture. I didn't need an excuse to pick out more of my favorites. I now have Regina as my blank pallette. I shall live vicariously through her!

Yesterday I went to Lowe's with Sara, another super close friend. I'm shopping with goals in mind and sticking to them so far this year. My goal was to buy a trellis to cover up the ugly pipe that allows my leachfield to breath. I plan to grow morning glories over it. I also purchased some zucchini seeds. I know I bought some earlier this spring, but they are lost in the shuffle somewhere. Sara was on a mission for plants, but she knew what she wanted - Some kind of annual that they didn't have. An annual? Come on Sara! That's no fun! How about the lovely hydrangea here in the corner? On the good side, when we got back to Sara house, she dug some plants out of the garden for me to take home! Oh boy, I felt like I won the lottery.

Well, it's nice to spread the gardening love. Regina doesn't have plants to share yet, but she will one day because I am determined to make her love manure and rocks. Enjoy the rest of your day everyone. I'm heading out to dig up some Melissa Officianalis and rosemary to drop at Regina's house on the way to pick the little one up from school.