Archives

A Time of Celebration

The month of February marks the three year anniversary of the Green Mountain Gardener blog.  It is a time of celebration, but more importantly, a time to thank all of you.  In February of 2007, I began my blog with the idea of creating an online journal.  And, quite frankly, I was bored after being marooned inside a tiny apartment due to a snowstorm that dumped over 2 feet of snow over the course of a single day.  And so it went, blogging about all sorts of nonsense, such as squirrel invasions, maple syrup, and an entire summer spent with painters outside my windows, and being hidden from their view only by a thin layer of plastic… and it was hot, dammit, so I had to keep the windows open, but with that brought the blaring of the Violent Femmes… “Why can’t I get, just one…. ” well, you know the rest.

I do not remember exactly how I was first introduced to blotanical, and the amazing gardening community it holds.  But, after moving to our house, I do remember that I desperately wanted to begin a garden of my own, and I was really rather clueless as to how I should begin.  I soon discovered the world of garden blogs, many of which contained beautiful writing, a wealth of information, advice, questions, and the most amazing photography. I was delighted by a community of gardeners that were supportive of one another, passionate about gardening, enjoyed writing, and grew some of the most amazing gardens I had ever seen.  I became a member of blotanical in September of 2008.  I felt a bit intimidated in the beginning, both as a new gardener and a new garden blogger.  What could I possibly write about that others would find interesting?  Well, surely some of those early posts left little to be desired, but yet I was met with encouragement, gracious comments, and there were a few that were kind enough to add my blog to their list of favorites.

This post is to show my appreciation to all of you, as this blog wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable if it weren’t for those of you that take the time to visit.  I so enjoy each and every comment left and those who have gathered here to join me in my passion for gardening.  You have helped me to become a better gardener, a better writer, and you fill me with enthusiasm and inspiration.  I hope to enjoy many more years sharing in this adventure with you, and taking delight in my virtual visits to your gardens.  To celebrate this time, and the wonderful people I have met, I would like to have a giveaway for a wonderful book which I recently discovered, Lives of the Trees: An Uncommon History, by Diana Wells.

Diana Wells has a gift for finding curious information about the naming of plants and creatures in the natural world.  Here, she explores our love for trees, and those featured are in alphabetical order all the way from Acacia to Yew. Wells talks of our relationship with trees, investigating their names and meanings as well as their legends and lore.  Beautiful illustrations by Heather Lovett grace the pages featuring the leaves, needles, flowers, nuts or fruit offered by each species.

“Because they are larger and older than we can ever hope to be, because they give shade, wood, food, and shelter, and because they stretch from earth to heaven, trees have been our gods since before recorded time.”

One tree featured, the Japanese Cedar, has the most interesting tradition that surrounds it, called forest bathing. Apparently, today in Japan it is still common for Japanese businessmen to enjoy this ritual:

“You go into the forest and soak yourself in the trees,” she says. “I live where there are woods and I will [do that] quite often and let the trees feel as if I’m part of the forest. It’s very, very soothing — it’s beautiful.  It would help us if we were more familiar with trees,” Wells says. “I think if we did that, it would cement the bond, and it would help all of us. We need the trees and they need us.”

If you would like a copy of this beautiful and inspiring book, I will be holding a drawing the old fashioned way – putting names into a hat and plucking out one lucky winner on Valentine’s Day, February 14th.  If you would like to be included in the drawing, all that is required is to leave a comment requesting that your name be added to the hat.  Deadline is February 13th at midnight.

A Color Journal In Rainbow Shades

Rebecca at prefer to be In The Garden has invited us to take part in a Rainbow Challenge, displaying photos from our gardens that make up the colors of the rainbow.  I have been inspired this year by many of you, and by a book  titled Fearless Color Gardens by Keeyla Meadows, to begin a color journal.  This is a great opportunity to dive right in.  I am passionate about color, and will be exploring each color and the feelings or moods they evoke, as color can set the mood, feel, or tone of our entire garden, or an area of our garden.  I would love it if you would join me in my exploration of each color, and perhaps find peace with a color you dislike.  For the past couple of years, I have been working at making peace with the color red, and have been successful to some extent – I planted some things last year such as Crocosmia ‘Lucifer’ and Papaver orientale ‘Beauty of Livermere’ both of which have deep, blood red blooms.  I look forward to exploring my hesitation with this color, as well as its attributes.

Red Raspberries

Red buds of Symphytum x uplandicum

Orange Aurelian hybrid lily 'Elise'

Orange salamander

Yellow Aquilegia x hybrida 'McKana's Giant'

Yellow Orienpet lily 'Conca d' Or'

Bright green leaves of Spirea 'Goldflame'

Handsome green frog

Lovely blue leaves of Hosta 'Love Pat'

Geranium 'Johnson's Blue'

Indigo... a lovely cross between blue and violet

Indigo Iris

Violet blooms of Allium 'Purple Sensation'

Violet splashed leaves of Persicaria microcephala 'Red Dragon'

The Romance of Lilacs

This post is inspired by Nell Jean of Secrets of a Seed Scatterer, who recently encouraged us to post about the flower that we think to be the most romantic.

As winter releases it’s cold and bony grasp, and we look forward to warmth in the presence of May, I most look forward to, above all else, the return of the lilacs.  Hundreds of cobs of bloom appear over smooth, gray trunks, signifying both rebirth and renewal.  I do not know of any other flower with a scent more powerful or intoxicating.  Their trusses make for the most glorious bouquets, and freshly cut lilacs are quickly becoming a much anticipated spring ritual for me.  The genus Syringa contains twenty-three recognized species, and I could probably find good reason to grow every single one if I had the room.  For it is difficult to choose between flowers that range from the softest of pinks, the bluest of skies, the richest and deepest of purples, or the palest of yellows.

As with all lilacs, they can and will grow to produce impressive clumps that resemble a giant mass of  stems and twigs.  I prefer to single out three to five strong stems and remove the rest making for a more structural plant.  I have learned that lilacs prefer my spring cleaning through bouquet-making, as they begin to produce flower buds from late summer through fall.  Pruning too late will spoil the show for the following year.  For a long-lasting indoor arrangement, pound the ends of the stems with a hammer or rubber mallet, which will improve their ability to take up water.

Native to Europe and Asia, the oldest living lilacs in North America are thought to be those at the Governor Wentworth estate in Portsmouth, N.H., believed to have been planted around 1750.  This makes me think about the hands of the person who planted them, and the eyes of those who have admired them.  In pastures among ruins of homes long abandoned, there still stands lilacs marking the lives of those who shared happiness, sorrow, hope, and despair.  I wonder about their adventures, and where they went.  And, I wonder if they considered that the lilac they planted would still be standing, some three lifetimes later.

A Bloom Day Field Trip

For Bloom Day, I’d like to take you on a field trip to the greenhouses at the University of Vermont.  During the cold winter months I take great pleasure in seeking out a greenhouse or two to get my fix of greenery and color.  At 8,000 square feet, UVM’s Main Campus Greenhouse Complex is a relatively small facility used by faculty, staff, and students in teaching, research, and extension.  It is the only greenhouse that is open to the public, and I was happy to find it well-stocked with an impressive variety of orchids, as well as a few other treasures.


This last photo is an orchid of mine currently in bloom, Oncidium Sharry Baby 'Sweet Fragrance.' And sweet it is, lightly scented with the smell of chocolate.

This last photo is an orchid of mine currently in bloom, Oncidium Sharry Baby 'Sweet Fragrance.' And, sweet it is, lightly scented with the smell of chocolate.

To celebrate Bloom Day, and to see what is blooming in gardens from around the world visit Carol at May Dreams Gardens.  Happy Bloom Day!!

Thoughts on Zonal Denial

Creating a garden in zone 4 can at times bring me to my knees as I am perpetually falling in love with new and amazing plants.  As I come across something that catches my eye, I read all of the information given on that particular species, which generally makes me long for it even more.  I hold my breath with a silent plea as I search for the hardiness zone that I intentionally left unread until the very end.  More often than not, I find a listing for zone 7 or 8 – and succumb to the fact that it is just not destined to reside here.  The things that I find I just can’t possibly do without, such as the sculptural leaves of Agave, or the dusky flowers of Agapanthus, (whose name translates to “love” and “a flower”) I plant in pots, and the need for more pots and more winter plant lighting seems to be gradually increasing.  On a recent visit to Teza’s Garden, I found a lovely post by Teza & Friends Garden Forum regarding zonal denial.  As I began typing out my response, I found it was quickly becoming rather long-winded and decided to respond with a post of my own.

Zonal denial is defined as attempts to grow plants which are normally limited to milder winter hardiness zones.  As our gardening palettes grow, and we become more enthusiastic gardeners, desirable and “must-have” plants begin to become an obsession.  After moving to Vermont from the Pacific Northwest and obtaining my empty landscape, I began to dream about the amazing plants and trees that would be filling it.  As I set out to begin planting my garden, I paid particular attention to plant labels listing a plant as hardy to zone 4.  I dreamt of plants and trees listed as hardy to zone 5 or even 6, but did not give them much more than a meaningful and wistful glance, figuring that they would never survive my climatically challenged garden.  As I read various gardening books and resources hungry to learn anything and everything to do with gardening, I discovered that the hardiness maps are not set in stone, but merely a guide.  There are many other variables such as micro climates, soil quality, drainage, mulch, and winter protection all of which would help me in pushing my zone to new heights.  Although winters in Vermont are undeniably cold, there is reliable snow cover that insulates the ground protecting the roots and crowns of plants.  I have posted before about my faithful use of a product called Wilt-Pruf that is sprayed on evergreens to prevent windburn and winter kill.  It works by keeping moisture in the leaves.  It is a wonderful product, and one that is totally organic and biodegradable.  It is best applied after the first hard frost, when moisture has retreated to the plant’s root system.  And best of all, if you are a complete procrastinator, as is the case for me this winter, you can also apply it during the January Thaw.

When we discovered our property, it seemed to us nearly perfect as it is situated on the top of a ridge and tucked into many surrounding trees.  The only thing I could find that we were lacking was a fabulous view.  I later learned that this would prove to be beneficial because without a view, we get very little wind which is certainly an enemy to hardiness.  I am convinced that the surrounding trees provide us with our own micro climate of zone 5, as frost happens later for us than for those living at the bottom of the ridge, and while it is snowing here, there is nothing happening just a few short miles from us. And, while there are certainly times that I balk at the biting and bitter cold winter days, our climate does afford us opportunities to grow some amazing plants such as Meconopsis betonicifolia, or Blue Himalayan Poppy, and Cypripedium, or Ladyslipper Orchids.

Soon after we purchased our property, I found myself with ornamental grasses on my mind and paid visit to a couple of local nurseries.  I found myself heartbroken after visiting the first when the employee offered to go out back and get their grass expert, who then came to me with a pot of blue fescue and informed me that this is the only grass that is hardy in Vermont.  (How can you be a grass expert if you only sell one type of grass?)  Thankfully, I wasn’t about to take her advice whole-heartedly.  She could very well have been educated on a variety of grasses, but I think her zoning information was a bit batty.

So, I will continue with my wish list containing dreams of Japanese Maples, Magnolias and Witch Hazels, some of which I hope to plant this spring.  And, I will continue to take delight in my window shopping of magnificent mail order nurseries such as Seneca Hills Nursery, located in upstate New York.  They are certainly not shy when it comes to pushing the zone.  As is stated on their website:  ”A good gardener experiments.  A good gardener kills a lot of plants.”

Magical Spaces

Meadows create their own magic and music with rhythmic movement – catching both wind and light while providing a safe habitat for beneficial insects and pollinators.  I have many memories of a meadow that was just down the street from the house where I grew up.  As kids, we spent a lot of time there walking along the pathways lined with tall grasses and running our hands along their feathery flower heads.  Wildflowers were picked and secretly left on the porches of those who lived nearby.  We would collect fresh apples that were being offered by the many mature apple trees before heading to the pond where entire afternoons were spent discovering the slippery and slimy critters that lived there.  The crickets, frogs, and birds played music as the clicking of the beetles kept time.

Since determining that a meadow is just the thing for my front slope, I have been spending some time reading up on a new book, The American Meadow Garden by John Greenlee.  Whether you want to create a small, intimate meadow, or are looking to abandon your traditional lawn, Greenlee’s newest book takes readers through the entire design process.  In addition to guiding you in site preparation, Greenlee discusses the difference between warm and cool season grasses, and how they perform differently, depending on what part of the country you live in.  In addition, there is extensive information given on a variety of grasses that will serve as base, filler, and accent grasses.  Grasses are excellent for slopes, and many will give the effect of water cascading down a hill, as well as provide erosion control.  Included in this book is a listing of many meadow sweeteners such as bulbs, annuals and perennials.  An entire section is devoted to a portfolio of meadow gardens from California to Wisconsin.  All are amazing and equally beautiful. Greenlee has been growing grasses as a nurseryman for more than two decades, and states:

“It seems like only yesterday that my affair with them began.  I say “affair” because a meadow is like a seductive mistress.  Grasses are sensual.  You can smell them, and hear them, and watch them move.  Meadows are sexy, just like lovers – they never stop changing, never ceasing to surprise.  My love affair with meadows has become my life’s work.  Now I make meadow gardens for a living.”


Cady’s Falls Nursery Revisited

This post was published back in May of 2009, but was temporarily lost due to some recent technical difficulties, so I have decided to republish it.  The photographs of lush greenery put a smile on my face as I look out the window at the slushy snow.

Situated in the rolling hills of Morrisville, Vermont, lies Cady’s Falls Nursery, a horticultural highlight of New England.  Their established gardens offer an amazing display of beauty and creativity.  What began as a dairy farm was transformed in 1980 into the nursery we know today.  As I stroll through the gardens, I feel as though I have been transported to a place made of fairies and magic.  The nursery is family-operated, and they produce over 24,000 plants per year, 90 percent of which they propagate themselves.  They offer many classics, but specialize in the rare, unusual, or the hard to find.  The display gardens offer perennials, dwarf and weeping conifers, a woodland garden, rock and wall garden, bog garden, pond garden, as well as an amazing variety of vines, hostas, and ladyslippers.

Happy Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice marks the beginning of longer days, paving the way toward spring.  A celebration of light and rebirth of the sun, the word “solstice” is derived from the Latin phrase, “sun stands still.”  That’s because – after months of growing shorter and lower since the summer solstice – the sun’s arc through the sky appears to stabilize, with the sun seeming to rise and set in the same two places for several days.   The northern winter solstice occurs when the “top” half of Earth is tilted away from the sun at its most extreme angle of the year.

May you have much to celebrate this solstice…
117

119

birds 2009 038

Frosty Mornings, and a Visit From a Wise Old Friend

The thermometer reads -2 degrees as I write this.  We have certainly been in the midst of some downright frosty weather as of late, but we were delighted by a recent visit from one of our favorite feathered residents.   I will never forget the day last summer, a low fog hung in the air late one afternoon.  The dog and I walked along the old logging road in the damp fog of the woods.  As the sun began to shine through the low clouds, we saw this beautiful Barred Owl, gliding low enough for me to fully appreciate his grace and beauty.  What I would have done for a camera that day!!

winter 2009 009

winter 2009 007

A Blanket of Snow, and Winter Plans

dec09 059There are a couple things that have been on my mind these past couple of weeks, intermingled with the stress and anxiety of final exams and papers that are due.

The first, is a valuable lesson in gardening that I learned last summer.  And, that is the importance of planting in groups, and using repetition to create pattern in the garden.  Like many new gardeners, when I set out to plant my garden, it involved a lot of time emerged in gardening books studying design concepts, and the importance of planting in groups.  Rinse.  Repeat.  I did not follow the advice.  How could I plant in groups when I wanted to incorporate all of these amazing plants?  Several trips were made to various nurseries.  I discovered many new plants, and fell in love with a multitude of new species. Often times they ended up in my backseat.  This happened over the course of the summer, two years ago.  Last summer, as I was looking at a garden full of beautiful plants, there was definitely a lack of order and rhythm.  And, it was not pleasing to my eye.  Last summer I spent much of my time ripping apart what I had planted, and replanting everything in a way that I thought would be more appealing.  This included planting in groups and using repetition to create pattern.  I have been reflecting on this valuable lesson, and wondering if I now wish that I had done things differently.  In some ways, yes.  It was a lot of work planting and then re-planting everything.  Also, there was money spent on a few plants that I decided not to keep because they just weren’t working. On the other hand, I wouldn’t trade the excitement I felt over planning and discovering plants I couldn’t live without.  And, I believe this experience helped to shape my love for gardening.    Planning, I have found, is one of the greatest pleasures.  Similar, I suppose, to sitting in front of a blank canvas with several colors of paint spread out before you.

dec09 063

The second thing that has been weighing on my mind is the slope in front of our house.  I have been pondering what I would like to plant here for a couple seasons now.  And, since I have already re-planted part of my garden, while it was a lovely experience, I am not willing to do it again.  So, I want to be REALLY SURE before I start planting all kinds of crazy.  Originally, I wanted a retaining wall.  Then, as I thought about the plants I wanted to incorporate, as well as the desire to create a meadow in this area, I decided against a retaining wall, to keep a more natural appearance.  Perhaps a gravel path and/or some stone steps.  Then I had a change of heart. Maybe a tiered rock wall would be nice.  Ok, maybe not.  So, now I am putting my foot down and making a decision.  Really.  Yes, I do want to create a natural-looking meadow in this area.  And, no rock wall.  I want the plants to be the main focus, as I have all sorts of plans for hardscaping in the back.  But we’re not even going to get started with that one.  Focus.  So, the excitement this winter will be in planning my meadow.  And, I will enjoy taking you along for the ride as my plans begin to unfold next spring.  If you would like to add your two cents, or if you are experienced in working with slopes, I would certainly be happy to listen.