Earthly Skysea Solstice,...and Jean Mather

 Post 43
I've literally been dreaming blue this last week--figures in glistening blue raiments. Its not hard to figure why. Outside my window, radiant pulsating blue...

Something about this last year, a rainy fall, a mild winter and an early spring, has made this one of the best years for hydrangeas anyone has seen. Hydrangea Heaven.

I did a post on hydrangeas last year that covers the basic how-to. but because it was a fall post, most of the pics were of aging moptops, not the lively blue youngins pictured so far. And besides, beautiful as these beauties are--there are also other types of hydrangeas, all with their own charms.

There are mopheads with bicolored florets.

 There are lacecaps.

There are lacecaps with variagated leaves.

 There are oak hydrangeas, happy in lightly dappled shade.

And then there are climbing hydrangeas and their crazy, ever-bloomin cousin, Schizophragma hydrangeoides. Here's a pic of a biggie at Chanticleer

Below is my yard with a 3 in 1, a climer, a bicolor, a lacecap... and a astilbe, a fig and cherub with a fish.

And all these are all in bloom right now. An earthly skysea show for the solstice.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

This post is in memory of the Rev. Dr. Jean Mather, Mother Jean, 09/23/1946- 06/13/2012.

She was a gentlewoman and a scholar, who set a stirring example of bravery and faith in the face of  adversity. It was an inspiration and a pleasure to have known her.

It almost seems silly to say 'Rest in Peace.' With people like Jean, you know they are in the arms of God. Nothing else could hold her. This felt surety when I think of her, and of others who I have known like her, is part of what fastens me to a faith in the Life beyond life.

Chanticleer, or Wonder at the Call of the Dawn

 Post 42

Is the wish to share wonder the first stirring of art?

To combine wildness and order, light and shade through love so that you can share the inklings and glimmers of infinity that fill you, and seem to overflow from you?

Welcome to Chanticleer.

Chanticleer  is an extraordinary pleasure garden on the Main Line.  Chanticleer is named after a rooster who shows up in Northern European folklore. a rooster like the one emblemed on top of this pool houses.

How do you communicate moments of wonder, when your senses seem to be taking in more than they can hold? Like at first light, when out of nowhere, emerges the rich complexity of reality.

Go to Chanticleer, walk around, maybe sit for a bit.

Such beautiful, expansive and witty public gardens, 'built solely for pleasure', are a blessing of this area. Within a few hours or less you can reach Chanticleer, Longwood Garden, Winterthur, Scott Arboretum , Morris Arboretum, Mt. Cuba , Wavehill, Brooklyn Botanical Gardens New York Botanical Garden and others. All of these are inspiration on many levels,

So, if you are lucky and willing, here are dawns, foretastes, or deep tastes, of what reality might be, or could be, or is, at sublime moments of joy and awe.

When everything mixes up at levels of complexity beyond human reason, but not beyond human experience, imagination and art.

Perhaps it is what Coleridge called Reason. Or not. Perhaps something else. But whatever it is, it includes the wonder that overflows and makes people make things.

... gardens, emblems of possibility, if you can just let its pleasures reach you. 

P.S. --Apologies for the pics, which do not do justice to this great garden. It was mid-day on a sunny day when I was there, and that is a hard time to get decent shots.

A Grand Surprise: Southern Magnolia

Post 41

When you chose to plant something, you do what you can to make it happy, but you never really know if all is well till it blooms.

Two years ago this fall I saw a young, dwarf Southern magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora,) on sale. My husband had put the kybosh on early spring magnolias, but here was one that bloomed in late spring. And in white, a color that does not put teeth on edge. But zone 7 was the extreme limit of its range, and Northwest Philly was not yet officially zone 7. Did I mention it was on sale? And that its older leaves were shiny evergreen on one side, and covered with a soft, tawny dust on the other? Leaves so begging to be touched and loved and treasured that, well--my wallet was out before I knew it.

There is a small mound on one side of the sun porch that is completely protected from the wind, as it stands  within a U made by the house and an overgrown rhodo. As it gets full sun, it is a good spot for zone-challenging plants. My acanthus, zone 7, has done well there.

So I planted the magnolia there. You can see it tip at the top-right corner of the above picture. It didn't bloom that following summer and I consoled myself that it was still a fine foliage plant. And  I'd given up on its blooming this year--I mean spring is pretty much over.

But I was in for a grand surprise, a Magnolia grandiflora hazarding out its first exquisite, lemon-scented bloom, with another still forming. The plant is happy, and that makes me happy.

So--this I'll pass on. Do you know the micro-climates in your yard? The warm, well-drained areas, the cold pockets, the shady deserts under trees? Try to, cause it lets you plant intelligently, which greatly ups your chances of success. Fit the needs of the plant to the character of the place and you will have made gardening a whole lot easier.

Here is a pic of my rock garden, which I created just so I could grow certain plants that do not do well in amended clay. If you want to know more about microclimates and what to plant in them, there is a gardening book by Roy Lancaster--"Perfect Plant, Perfect Place." When I first started gardening I did my best to absorb most of it, and have relied on its M.O. ever since.The Free Library owns copies, including ones at the Chestnut Hill branch and Central.  Its call # is: 635.965 L221P. Happy Gardening!

 

And look--2 more blooms, with the one in bud looking just like an egg. A grand welcome to the coming summer.

 

Valerian or All-Heal, A Calming Pause

Post 40

Roses and rhodos crown spring.  But after roses, what can  follow? Usually there is a pause.  In a normal year, which is not this year, most perennial gardens are a bit bare before the midsummer eyeopener of daylily, daisie, coneflower and monarda .




                        
Which is why valerian, a perennial herb that looks like a giant Queen Anne's Lace, is such a useful plant. It steps forward as the roses end and then recedes as midsummer color takes over.

It is a tall, leggy herb with uplifted hands and head. Emerging out of a rosette of leaves the stems can grow up to 4 feet high. On its own the flower is pretty but lacks pizzazz. However, team it with some non-green ground covers and interesting flowers as they come and go, and it carries the garden through. Also, because it is tall, it is great behind smaller, denser plants. After bloom it can be cut back down to its nondescript green rosette. If you leave it standing after the peak of bloom seeds will set and you should get baby valerians, perhaps all over your yard. The seeds are light and travel in the wind. It is an easy plant to dig up and put elsewhere or give away.

It is not always an easy plant to buy. For like Corydalis lutea (Post 15,)  it has not been modified it into a patented commodity that warrants a marketing campaign. If a nursery carries Valerian, it is usually in the herb section, but since it is not a cooking herb you may need to ask for it. Or buy some seeds. Then, in two years you will have tall, lovely plants.


It's full name is Valeriana officinalis.  It can be called garden heliotrope, which is really another plant (cherry pie,) and red valerian, which is also really another plant (Jupiter's Beard.) Valerian has been called all-heal since medieval times because there is a medicine made from its roots, which, when properly prepared and administered, has a gentle calming effect.

So, if you have a space in sun or semi-shade that gets adequate water and needs some sprucing up this time of year, -- consider adding the sweet-smelling presence of this plant.