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Saturday, March 17, 2012

The garden is naked

A week after burning and cutting, the garden is naked, the dance has begun. The curvature of the stone walls and the paths of gravel and concrete make a metaphor of motion -- swirls and circles, curves in unexpected places, points of rest and turnings, almost all visible from the house.


The photos don't capture the geometry completely enough. It takes a wide look around to get the motion of the paths. It's like the movement of water -- literally -- because the paths imitate the movement of water over the surface of the land, marking its direction of flow down the gentle slope to the Lockatong Creek.


What structure the garden has is visible now. By midsummer, it will be mostly invisible. So I will enjoy it for the next few weeks as the perennial vegetation emerges. It's best on these late afternoons when the sun is low and the trees cast long shadows across the flatness, providing a subtle interplay with the dancing movement of the paths.


Clearer definition of the long pond would help bring the scene to life. Cleaning it it out would be a good start. I wonder if I can summon the energy to put on waders and stumble around the rocky bottom tomorrow. It's not a pleasant task -- cutting the dead plants below water level, then heaving the heavy wet mass out onto the water's edge. A direct participation in the experience of water, so to speak. Certainly the least enjoyable part of caring for this garden.


The path starts here, just inside the gate by the house, then winds down to a long stone wall, where the other paths branch off into the main garden field.




On the far side looking back into the setting sun, three Japanese Fan Tail willows, Salix sachalinensis 'Sekka', catch the light. I give these a heavy annual pruning to keep them looking like small trees.


This is their moment for only now do they show their vase-like form. Later in the season, they become background to the perennials.

It's hard to remember the curved area paved in concrete squares will become a secret bower in July when it will almost be hidden by the large perennial plantings.


If I had planned it at this time of year rather than when the garden was fully grown, I probably would have paid more attention to shaping the paths, especially the paved area on the right. It wasn't intended as a curve reflecting the opposite curve, only as an internal sitting area.


Such imperfections may be part of the nature of this garden. A misstep (never could dance!). Something to think about.


24 comments:

  1. I liked this tour, imperfectly placed paths and all. It's so good to see the structure and flow, and not all the vegetation. Later I'll want to see the lush interest of your full garden, but right now, in the quiet season, this was a restful look at what's under it all.

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  2. The feeling in the moment is one of relief, followed by a little anticipation. And some worry; the very mild winter seems to have allowed more vole damage than usual, and I wonder if some grasses weren't eaten into oblivion. But the garden is intended to be able to recover from such anomalous climatic stresses. I think I can identify with the feelings of ancient people, who doubted that spring would return, that the life of the fields would be renewed. Thus the need for ancient sacrifice, the blood of a King to rejuvenate the earth. So many mythic stories lie just under the surface of the garden.

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  3. Lovely sinuous paths, James. And I particularly appreciated your salix sekka. In a month or two, I'll need to order some salix varieties (I thought from Bluestem in Washington State?) to replant along my stream bank after Irene (bad girl!). Perhaps when the time comes I can ask you and your commentators for advice. So many varieties. And so much flood damage!

    The formal qualities of your salix remind me that I saw yesterday an "arbre de Judee" (Judas Tree) and it was simply remarkable. Interesting experience because it asked (as much as a tree can ask, but of course it does) to be looked on as itself, alone; it positively refused to take part in the view (and it was quite a view!). Along with a stand of baobabs, it is, formally, one of the most beautiful trees I've ever seen.

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    1. I highly recommend Bluestem, Ross. They offer an amazing variety of salix. I've bought some of my favorite perennials from Bluestem too, chief among them Inula racemosa 'Sonnerspeer', which has an amazing sculptural profile and self-seeds with abandon in my garden. I also have a lot of Salix alba 'Britzensis' for late winter color. This year I'm planning to start training some as trees, then pollard them at about five or six feet.

      I know the Redbud (Cercis canadensis) very well and love the tree. I know the Judas tree is similar, but I can't say I've ever seen one, except possibly in Rome, where there is a huge one, a semi-prostrate form, on the backside of the Palatine hill, just down from the Colosseum toward the Circus Maximus. I thought that it might be a Judas Trees when I saw it years ago, but wasn't sure. There is an ancient Redbud near here in the Rosemont Burial Ground with a trunk about three feet in diameter, though it's quite short at eight feet or so, covered with flowers in spring, and thousands of bees. A magnificant and unusual specimen.

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    2. The Inula is lovely, although I'm trying to avoid yellows. Perhaps for another location, since it seems that it would appreciate the dampness of the Catskills.... I was thinking of Firetail Amplexicaulis Persicaria. Have you found it easy? I cannot coddle, a Darwinian gardener by necessity. I've had great luck with self-seeding digitalis.

      Two other questions, if you're willing: first, do you put the willow stems straight into the ground, in say May? or did you pot and then transplant as I've seen others do.

      And second, have you had success with candelabra primulas, or are they too fussy for your garden? I know that Joe Eck and the late Wayne Winterrowd had vast swathes in Vermont, but I'm pretty sure they hovered over the seedlings, all the while denying that they did!

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    4. I used to abhor yellows, and still do the yellow of Rudbeckia 'Goldstrum'. But when I moved to Federal Twist, where the garden is surrounded by dark woods that seem to absorb the light, I discovered I needed the yellows. What I really dislike now is the garish pick cotton candy of Filipendula 'Venusta', but it quickly fades to a more subtle copper color. In my previous garden, which had "real" soil Persicaria amplexicaulis grew profusely. I grew Firetail as well as a white cultivar. I can report it took care of itself, through I never experienced self-seeding. Here the Persicaria languishes and will grow only at the dryer front of the house, but with none of the vigor it had in my former garden. So it depends on your soil: "moist, well drained" friable loam. It doesn't like water or heavy clay. (As to self-seeding, every garden seems different, so give it a try.)

      I tried a few candelabra primulas by the pond but my highly aggressive Petasites did them in. Ken Druse has a magnificent planting along his stream in his garden a couple of hours north of here. They've so beautiful, I think you should give them a try. I'll bet Joe and Wayne worked very hard to get their primulas started. I'm amazed by their labors, being one of the "passive" school myself. Though yesterday I did wade into my pond and clean it out (only after failing to find someone else to do it).

      I would cut the willows now and put the cuttings directly in the ground. A moist spring helps keep them well watered and they roots quickly.

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    5. For rooting, I forgot to mention, use pencil thick stems.

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  4. I do like gardens when they are laid naked - well for a while. Its interesting to see the structure and also helps you see what needs amending.

    You left a comment on my blog about moving to wordpress. I think wordpress will migrate your posts across if you ask them

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    1. Thanks for the tip on Wordpress. I'll see if I can find transfer information.

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  5. As you say an excellent time to see and enjoy the structure and also to correct it. For a long time line and sculptural effects have been all that we can enjoy and now we start to get a dialogue. I don't think I was ever quite so aware of the coniferous element to your woodland. Which kind of says it all!
    Best
    R

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    1. Ah, "and also to correct it." I see I may have to correct that flawed curve ... but I don't think this year. Have to get the Brooklyn garden going.

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  6. I always enjoy the period in the garden between spring clean up and summer bloom. It is both satisfying and anticipatory. Love the paths, by the way! A very handsome job you've done!

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    1. The garden is like a flat plate now. It is a nice relief from the profusion of growth in the summer. I enjoy looking out and seeing the open space for a few weeks, and the few trees, especially the Sekka willows, take show off their forms. The willios are just starting to show their large, bright yellow flowers. Next weekend (we're supposed to have a week in the mid-70s) they should be in their full glory.

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  7. Oh no! I must admit, selfishly, I'd hate to see you move to Wordpress! The reason I like Blogger so much is the ability to click on all the photos and get an enlarged version within a ready-made slideshow. This is especially nice for your blog since your photos are always so lovely and worth studying in detail. This post is a great example of that! I've yet to see a Wordpress blog that allows detailed enjoyment of the photos.

    Thank you for this tour of your garden and its bones.

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    1. I'll keep that advantage in mind, and I won't be doing a conversion soon. I think I've read it's difficult and a flawed process.

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  8. Your paths do indeed meander.

    So the cycle starts again. Will it really all come back? I fully appreciate how the ancient peoples felt.

    That's quite a bank below the house. I usually associate it with tall inflorescences in late summer.

    Deep joy clearing out the pond. You have my sympathies. A cold,slimey,thankless task.

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  9. Looking on this waste, you do understand how ancients could have doubted return of spring. The bank was put in in 1965 to keep the house above the extremely wet land. Does a good 45 years later. I did clean out the pond. Took only about two hours and a few sore leg muscles. Good for me!

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  10. James, what is the advantage of burning to weed-whacking your garden? Does it release seed better? (surely not?) Keep down briars? I have a hill that I'm trying to slowly cover with day lilies, but am plagued by brambles -- would burning help?

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  11. Ross, grasses more than many other perennials benefit from burning, at least every few years. Grasses tend to become congested with growth and accumulated debris, and burning cleans all that out; weed whacking can't do that. Burning also kills off seedling trees and shrubs, thus stopping the natural progression of meadow or open field into forest (at least in the east, where field naturally wants to become forest). (It also quickly eliminates a huge biomass quickly and easily.) I don't think it will help you with brambles, however, except to retard the top growth because they will just grow back from the roots. Forgive me for saying the forbidden word, but I would use Roundup to kill off the brambles. Use it according to directions, and use no more than recommended, and it should do little harm. The other other option, really, is to try to dig the bramble roots out, which would be extremely difficult.

    That brings up another question. Do you really have brambles (some wild form of blackberries or raspberries) or do you have multiflora rose? Both are very hard to get rid of. I use Glyphosate (the generic name for the active ingredient in Roundup) for this task. And I have to say I still have thousands of frogs and a diverse multitude of insects.

    Have you thought of planting a mixture of grasses with the daylilies? When the daylily foliage starts to look ratty, the grasses can carry the hill visually for the rest of the season. Daylilies mix very well with grasses, though I'd use just a few varieties with like kinds massed together among the grasses.

    I think perhaps this is more than you asked for!

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    1. Thanks, this is very helpful. I've used Roundup in pasture against Canadian thistle, but I'll apply in this year to the brambles (they are brambles) as well as the ferns. I have a vision of a hillside of orange daylillies (passionately fond of this plant) and so will regretfully resort to chemical help.

      On the hill, for late summer interest, I am trying mass plantings of hydrangea (the old fashioned kind, as well as Annabelle, which I greatly admire) but may now try grasses.l (I had previously felt that they wouldn't quite work in a woodland setting, but your garden convinces me otherwise.). Do you have suggestions for two complementary grasses? I have poor soil but good drainage, of course. Light only for about five hours a day.

      Finally, James, shouldn't you work up your self-seeding digitalis? They are gods answer to my garden, and I think would look very nice around the edges of yours, and beyond, beckoning the stroller into the distant woods. They have taught me to love magenta, although I appreciate the whites, of course.

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    2. You might do better to cut back growth and spray the fresh new growth after it's a few inches tall. The plant tissue will probably absorb the glyphosate better. May take more than one application, but then you need never repeat it.

      I love the common orange daylilies and am adding more myself. You might consider some mounding grasses to echo the shapes of the hydrangeas (Miscanthus, especially 'Adagio', a smaller one, Pennesetum, possibly some European bunch grasses such as Sesleria autumnalis, Deschampsia cespetosa) and some tall ones for height and contrast of form such as Indian grass (Sorgastrum nutans, especially the cultivar 'True Blue'), which is a native, or many of the native switch grasses (Panicum). 'Cloud 9' is a taller but graceful, strong (sort of diaphanous) cultivar, also 'Shenandoah', many others. Check out Rick Darke's book The Encyclopedia of Grasses for Liveable Landscapes.

      I'd love to have self-seeding digitalis, but knowing my conditions, I've never tried it. I suppose I'll get a couple and see if they can make it in my garden. And I love magenta.

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  12. Thanks James, that's very helpful. I will try my luck with grasses -- and willows! I can't imagine that digitalis wouldn't succeed in your garden -- they just need a bit of open ground for self-seeding. And they are easily moved in the fall - I can give you a couple hundred then, if you like. Ross

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  13. Ross, I'd love to get some digitalis. Where is your garden? I have assumed upstate somewhere. And how do you keep the deer from eating your daylilies? Do you have deer fencing?

    By the way, that Sorgastrum cultivar name is 'Sioux Blue', not 'True Blue'.

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