Walking to, and through, my garden has become an almost daily
ritual. Not in the mindless repetitive sense, but in a way I would
visit an old friend with whom I have long been comfortable. When I
have been away on a trip, upon returning, it would not be unusual
for me to visit the garden before unlocking my home. Inclement
weather is not a reason to skip a walk. Umbrellas have been invented
for when it rains and coats keep me warm in winter. My old friend,
the garden, always has something of interest to show me when I
visit. At times there are sounds and fragrance to share as well.
My garden is located on a hillside. In the very heart of my garden
is a small cliff face of collapsed limestone. A wet-weather spring
flows from an opening at the base of the cliff. Next to the entrance
of the tiny cave is a large flat stone. A path wanders past between
the rock and an old cedar tree providing canopy to all. A small
bridge carries the path over the little steam, then back up the
hill. On the west side of the big rock I planted a dwarf hemlock
some years ago. When I get to feeling closed in during winter I
take a journey to that big stone. It is just the right height to
sit, letting my feet dangle into space over the path. The hemlock
protects me from the prevailing winds of winter, and air from the
little cave is always fifty-five degrees.
I have often sat upon the rock after a snow when all is so quiet I can feel the world hold its breath. Peaceful enough to hear the flitter of bluebird wings as they move from branch to branch seeking cedar berries.
There are plants I look forward to watching as I walk the paths reaching the heart of the garden each winter. During the last of November, first of December, I can count on our native Delphinium exaltatum to display the last flush of bloom from being cut back in August. Gentiana saponara always presents its little blue bottle-shaped blooms. Helleborus foetidus begins to send up a bloom stalk in mid-December to fully open in late February. Gaultheria procumbens is stunning with frost on the foliage, its scarlet-red berries for me pick and pop into my mouth for wintergreen aroma and taste. When we receive a bit of warming sun I can count on the Chinese witch-hazel (Hamamelis mollis) beginning to flower the first part of February, lasting well into the middle of April. The fragrance from open blooms can be picked up long before I get to the garden. A odor pretty much like my Aunt Maude when she removed her make up.
Late winter and early spring bring a slight warming to the soil
in a come and go manner. I believe Mother Nature is responsible
with her slowly awakening, only to change her mind and roll back
over to hit the snooze-button for another ten. By the first week
of March I can rely upon seeing my favorite flowers emerge and
come into bloom. Trillium nivale, or dwarf snow trillium, is aptly
named. It is not unusual to see this miniature trillium poking its
little nose up through snow for some light. Hepatica acutiloba, the
sharp-lobed liver lobe, may have last year's foliage in tatters,
but rising above the mess are numerous hairy stems and buds. Each
stem produces a single flower of white, or lavender-blue. Other
species such as the Asian come into bloom just before, the European
species follow our native in bloom period.
As helleborus awaken throughout March the first of my Primula come into bloom. An unnamed polyanthus in warm soft-yellow is always first to give back some of the sunshine it received last season. A pass-along primula of hose-in-hose yellow and red soon joins the display. Due to naturalizing over the years the foliage of our native species Dicentra fills the spaces in between the primula. I sometimes think primula veris is my favorite, but then I see a Juliana in bloom and I am no longer so sure.
It is hard not to want to live in the garden come late spring and
summer. There is so much going on it is hard to take it all in. In
a woodland garden so much happens before and just after the shrubs
and trees fully leaf out. I watch as a continual parade of Trillium
species come into bloom from early March well into May. Being
a certified collector, I get to be fascinated year in and year
out by Jack-in-the-Pulpit family (Arisaema). My bizarre beauties
begin in late March with the tiny Asian species, A. ringens. Our
native Jack-in-the-Pulpit blooms the last of April. The show goes
on through the first of July with the emergence of A. fargessi.
Color and variety have joined hands and run amuck throughout
the garden. Again, I will get to see my little collection of
ladyslippers (Cypripedium) come into full display. The small pink
ladyslipper (C. acaule) is in the raised bed with the rhododendrons
and hardy camellia. The large yellow ladyslipper (C. calceolus
var. pubescens) beside the little stream has the companionship of
the royal ladyslipper (C. reginae) blooming nearby in a mini-bog
created from a child s wadding pool. I have been working for some
years to establish several species and hybrid of the Chinese ground
orchid, Bletilla, in my garden. I have come to love the foliage
as much as bloom. Each plant has two paired and arching leaves
reminiscent of a master's brush stroke in calligraphy.
If I could have only one perennial in my garden during June it would have to be Spigelia marilandica, or Indian pink. The perfect perennial with slow growth, Indian pink has no insect problems, grows in a wide range of habitats, is almost indestructible. Finally, Spigelia is one of our most colorful of natives with brilliant crimson tubes at the top of each plant, each tube topped by a yellow star.
Come July and August many gardeners have given up on the shade garden. Too hot, a bit of drought appears and gardeners want to toss in the trowel. This is when I begin to look forward to late summer and fall for reliable perennials that provide so much enjoyment. Toadlilies (Tricyrtis) have always stood tall on my list of fall favorites. The first species begins bloom in July and the show ends at first hard freeze with several named hybrids. The exotic shaped blooms are best described as orchid-like. Gentiana will be in bloom from July through mid-December. Monkshood (Aconitum) is all the hues of blue are at their best with some frost on the petals.
Come visit if you are in my neck of the woods. We can go for a walk to meet my old friend the garden. We both enjoy the company of other gardeners.