This is the season when my garden is tucked in under a blanket of snow (it is snowing even as I write) and I rely on houseplants for my flower fix. My best performer this month is an orchid I received as a gift from a friend more than four months ago. I’m thrilled that it is still blooming and that I haven’t killed it yet. (I don’t have a great track-record with orchids.)
For the past ten years, Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day has been hosted on the 15th of each month by Carol at May Dreams Gardens. (Thank you, Carol!) Visit her blog to see a much greater variety of January flowers, including some that are actually blooming outdoors in the garden.
This is my eighth year of welcoming in the new year with Jean’s Garden calendars as gifts for family and friends. I always enjoy the process of going through my photo archives to choose images for the calendar. I have some loose “rules” for image choices. First, all photos for the calendar must have been taken by me. Second, they should be of my own garden, not of gardens I’ve visited. (I usually apply this rule in a relaxed form, including images of trees and wildflowers growing at the edges of my garden. One year, I even included two images of wildflowers growing by the side of the road in my neighborhood.) Third, I aim for a combination of close-ups and landscape shots. Fourth, I try to select my images from photos taken in the past year. Typically, at some point during the year, I’ll begin to identify photos that have calendar potential and save them to a special folder on my computer. In late summer or fall, I may well go out and take some photos to fill specific gaps.
Here are this year’s selections (click on any image to enlarge it):
Once again this year, I used the online service at Lulu.com to create and print my calendars. I continue to be impressed with the quality of their color reproductions. As I’ve done in recent years, I used photo editing software to add a white border around the images and captions beneath them; and I solved the problem of the cover by creating a collage of some of the calendar images.
I’m particularly happy with this year’s calendar. This is a lucky thing, because I had intended to have a sample proof printed first and then make revisions, but I ran out of time when events in my personal life overtook my good intentions. So what I ended up with was essentially the first draft. The only thing I would have changed would have been to use a slightly smaller font for the captions, and that is a mistake I can live with.
If anyone would like their own copy of this year’s calendar, you can purchase them from Lulu by clicking here.
December’s darkness brings again the light of Christmas morn. (Norval Clyne, “The Blasts of Chill December”)
In the northern hemisphere, we celebrated the winter solstice this past week. The solstice marks the shortest day of the year, the longest night, and the official beginning of winter. The winter solstice also marks the return of light, as days begin to lengthen again.
For millennia, human societies have found ways to celebrate light at this season. Bonfires, fireworks, candles, luminaria, and displays of electric lights are all especially beautiful against the backdrop of winter dark. My favorite episode of the 1990s television series Northern Exposure is the one from season 4 called “Northern Lights,” which ends as townspeople gather in the dark of the winter solstice to see the lighting of an amazing outdoor sculpture that Chris Stevens has made from discarded lamps, light bulbs, etc.
This week also brought two major religious celebrations of light. The Jewish holiday of Chanukah (or Hanukkah) celebrates a miracle of light, when one day’s worth of oil for the Menorah miraculously lasted eight days. The celebration involves the lighting of candles on a Menorah, with more candles added each day, a celebration of increasing light that is very much in concert with the winter solstice. The Christian holiday of Christmas is symbolically linked to light by the idea of Christ as “the light of the world” and by the story of the exceptionally bright star that lit the night sky and led the three Wise Men to the newborn baby. Light displays, especially lighted Christmas trees and strings of colored lights in outdoor spaces, are an important part of the celebration of Christmas in the United States. The confluence of all these celebrations of light is not a coincidence. In the case of Christmas, there is no evidence that the historical Jesus was born in late December. More likely, early Christian leaders linked the celebration of Christ’s birth to existing celebrations of light in a kind of “if you can’t lick them, join them” strategy.
Some of my friends suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder and are delighted to get beyond the winter solstice and celebrate the return of light. I actually like the reduced light of winter – the velvety nights, the star-filled skies, the ethereal glow of moonlight on new-fallen snow, that special deep blue of the twilight sky on a winter afternoon. But I also enjoy the artificial lights of the season. Each year, I install a light-spangled Christmas tree in my living room. As I drive around the countryside doing errands and Christmas shopping, I enjoy the light-filled outdoor displays at homes along the road. There are also more formal light displays to be enjoyed. When I was a child, a local religious shrine was known for its Christmas light display. At some point during the holidays, we would all pile in the car and join the line of traffic snaking through local roads to see the light display. For the past two years the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens has attracted tens of thousands of visitors to its display of holiday lights, “Gardens Aglow.” The season of darkness is filled with celebrations of light.
The goal of the Maine Wild Seed Project is to increase the use of Maine native plants in a variety of landscape settings, and to do it in a way that supports the biodiversity of these native plants. Typically, when people plant native plants in landscapes, they buy those plants from nurseries. And the plants available from nurseries are usually one of a few varieties that have been selected by the nursery trade for some characteristic deemed desirable and then cloned over and over again. As a result, it becomes increasingly difficult to find the straight species and the genetic diversity of the species is reduced. In our class, Heather McCargo contrasted the uniformity of an azalea hedge planted with a single cultivar and the pleasing blend of colors in a similar hedge of native azalea planted from seed.
I have experienced the limited variety available through nurseries when adding native plants to my garden. Last year, when I was planting the first flower beds of my new front garden, I included nursery cultivars of both purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) and New England aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae). In the case of the purple coneflower, I would have preferred the straight species, but couldn’t find it for sale. In the case of the aster, I planted the cultivar ‘Alma Potschke’ because it is what everyone around here plants when they want a showy tall pink aster. When ‘Alma Potschke’ bloomed this year, however, I discovered that I like its color and form less than I like that of a wild aster growing by the side of the road in my neighborhood.
My one-day class with Heather McCargo on propagating Maine native plants from seed was divided into three parts. We began with a classroom presentation on the Maine Wild Seed Project and the arguments for growing native plants from seed. Then, Heather took us out into the botanical gardens to collect seedheads of native plants. We learned to look for species plants rather than hybrids and how to tell when the seedheads were ready to be gathered. There were about a dozen students in the class and each of us had an opportunity to collect some seeds, put them in a paper bag, and label the bag. After a lunch break, we returned to the classroom for a lab session in planting wild seeds. Each of us was given one bag of seeds collected in the morning and a paper plate for separating out the seeds from the chaff. We were instructed to count out twenty seeds and put them in one part of the plate with a circle drawn around them. The reason for counting out twenty seeds was to see what that number looked like. The model the Wild Seed Project uses for sowing wild-collected seeds is to sow them thickly (20-30 seeds) in a small container (e.g., 4” square nursery pot). Sowing in good potting soil provides a higher germination rate than you get with scattering seeds on the ground. Since most of our native New England plants need a period of cold in order to germinate, the seeds can be sown in the fall and the pots left outdoors through the winter.
In the last hour of class, each student chose seeds from among those collected in the morning (and some others that Heather brought with her) and sowed them in 4” pots. I came home with pots of Aralia racemosa (American spikenard), Ceanothus americana (New Jersey Tea), and native bleeding hearts (Dicentra eximia). In addition, I purchased a packet of wild strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) seeds from the Wild Seed Project. In early November, I went out and collected some ripe seedheads from that beautiful New England aster growing at the side of the road.
Yesterday, I finally found time to sow seeds in pots. I tipped the aster seedheads out of their paper bag onto a paper plate and separated the seeds from the chaff. (Tweezers and a hand lens were useful accessories for this process.) I had so many seeds from my small handful of seedheads that I sowed them in two 4” pots, plus a third pot for my purchased strawberry seeds. It will be exciting to see what germinates in spring.
I’m still soliciting responses for my survey of garden record-keeping. (At this point, I’m almost halfway to my goal of 100 responses.) If you keep garden records but have not yet completed the survey, I’d appreciate your help. The survey is very short and takes very little time to complete. Please also share this survey link with other gardeners you know: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/5792QH3
It is very unusual to have flowers still blooming in a Maine garden in mid-November, but I do. Despite many nights with freezing temperatures and several hard frosts, the smooth asters (Symphyotrichum laeve ‘Bluebird’) continue to bloom in a protected south-facing corner.
For the most part, though, the garden is done for this year. Once I finish stacking my firewood, I will cut back a few perennials, put away the plant supports and garden furniture, and take down the screen house on the back deck in preparation for winter. I will not have outdoor flowers again until April.
|… And by the first flush of new flowers on one of my potted cyclamen.|
Last week, I unpacked a dozen potted amaryllis (Hippeastrum) bulbs from their period of dark dormancy in the basement and put them in the sun to send up new growth. It is too soon for them to have flowers, but they provide a promise of beautiful blooms for the winter months ahead.
Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day is hosted on the 15th of each month by Carol at May Dreams Gardens. Visit her blog to see what other gardeners have blooming in November.
In the first year of this blog, I wrote a post about my strategies for keeping garden records. (See Keeping a Garden Record.) Many gardeners commented about their own garden record-keeping, and their responses led me to amend and improve my own records. This post has remained popular, and I have sometimes gotten requests from gardeners to share a template for my garden record spreadsheet.
This year, I am following up on that earlier post by doing some research on garden record-keeping. The first step is a survey of gardeners about their own record-keeping strategies. This will be followed by some interviews which will help me develop some case studies of different styles of garden records. This research will form the basis of a talk on garden records that I will give at next year’s McLaughlin Garden Winter Lecture Series. I am also planning to identify some on-line resources and templates for garden record-keeping, which I will share in a follow-up post.
As many of us in the northern hemisphere are doing fall clean-up in our gardens and as many in the southern hemisphere are beginning a new garden season, I would appreciate your taking a few minutes to tell me about your garden record-keeping strategies. If you keep garden records, I would love to have your responses to my brief survey. You can access the survey (via Survey Monkey) by clicking here.
Thanks for your help.
My original plan for year 2 of my front garden project was to design, prepare the soil, and plant both the Side Slope and the Fragrant Garden. (See Update on the Front Garden Project for a diagram of the various planned garden areas.) During the winter, as I worked on the design for the Side Slope and came to terms with just how big that area is and how many months it would take, I scaled back my plans, deciding that I would try to get most of the soil prepared for the Fragrant Garden this fall, but would design the planting over the winter and put plants in next spring.
My plans changed again in late August, when I learned that my favorite nursery would be closing at the end of the season (see Bittersweet Best Wishes). As a result, when I completed the Side Slope at the end of August (see The Side Slope: Mission Accomplished), I went to work double-time not only on preparing the soil for the Fragrant Garden, but also on designing the planting. The goal was to get as many of the plants as possible in the ground by early October.
The Fragrant Garden is an area roughly 19’ x 10’ at the front of my new addition, sitting under the big master bedroom window. My vision for this garden is that it will be filled from early summer until fall with fragrant flowers whose scent will waft through open windows into my bedroom on summer nights.
I had been making lists of plant possibilities for months, so I quickly put together a planting design (above) as I worked on preparing the soil in September. This will be a mixed planting of shrubs (mock orange and roses), perennials (lavender, dianthus, peonies, daylilies, oriental lilies, phlox) and annuals (night-scented stock, sweet peas, moonflower). The lavender here are Lavandula augustifolia ‘Hidcote,’ which is also growing along the lavender walk to the right of this planting (in front of the deck). As far as I’m concerned, any fragrant garden needs roses and peonies. I have not grown any of the annuals included here before, but they are all highly recommended for fragrant gardens.
Some might be surprised to see daylilies in this planting (except that I love daylilies and grow them in almost all my garden areas ), but the daylilies in this planting are all varieties with wonderful fragrance. They include two clumps of a nocturnal, fragrant pass-along daylily that I’m pretty sure is the fragrant species, Hemerocallis citrina. The other four daylilies are cultivars from the Barth breeding program. The Barths (father Joseph and son Nick) are Maine daylily breeders who were breeding for fragrance during the years that other breeders were working on ruffles, doubling, and picotees. Each grouping of three daylilies will include the midseason-blooming H. citrina, one early-midseason variety, and one late-midseason variety.
I knew that this planting needed some kind of focal point that would work both for those looking out the window from inside and those viewing it from the walkway on the outside. I would have loved one of those big Lunaform urns, but they are way out of my budget. I considered getting a big pot of some kind from a favorite local potter, but I found nothing there that would work well. There was a big pot that had the mass and the strong colors I wanted for this space, but it would need to be brought inside for the winter and is too heavy for me to lift and carry by myself. I also considered some birdbaths they had that come apart into two pieces and are easier to move, but the only two available were both in colors too muted to work well in this location. I finally decided that a better (and more affordable) option would be a cluster of three bright blue gazing balls set on stands at different heights in the center of the flower bed. I’ve included several divisions of the groundcover geranium G. x cantabrigiense ‘Biokovo’ to go underneath the gazing balls. I have an infinite supply of this geranium, it has wonderfully aromatic foliage, and it will form a dense mat of low-growing foliage that will keep weeds from growing.
Because this garden area is level and consisted mostly of loose, sandy backfill where few plants had seeded themselves since the construction, the process of amending the soil went much more quickly than it had on the Side Slope. Within a month after I began, the soil was ready for plants, and most went in the ground the first week in October. The Casablanca lily bulbs were added last week, after they arrived as part of my bulb order from Fedco. Roses, phlox, annuals, and one daylily that wasn’t available this fall will be added in the spring.
I’m pleased to have made so much progress on my front garden this year. Next year, I hope to add a small rain garden to the left of this planting (where the downspout carries rain down from the roof) and then move on to the lower garden. By this time next year, my new front garden should be more than half done.