1 April 2016
Temperature is 40F, foggy and overcast. . . . I brought to the Garden a tray of plants started from seed in Feb.: 14 columbine pots, 3 Coreopsis tinctora, and a lone house fern. I plugged in the two heat pads and the gro-light, set the timer, and all seem to be working. Since the columbine in the garden are already 2-3” tall, the home-grown columbine should do okay with the assistance of the heating pads and the protection of the shed. My guess is the coreopsis are more tender.
In the afternoon, we had a few minutes of hail—though the hail balls were quite small—perhaps more accurate to describe them as sheet pellets. Twenty minutes later the sun was out, but still chilly and windy. While working in the shed, I attached a brace to the leg of one of the two new garden benches. Set the bench on the gravel walkway in front of the patio, next to a Home Depot pedestal I bought on sale last fall. Combination looks okay–not great. I drilled the holes for the brace for the second garden bench, but my remaining screws are too small to hold the brace.
I brought from home another tray of new seedlings: mostly coreopsis, plus four goatsbeard, one powwow echinacea, and one rock cress. Downloaded photos from a garden walk two days ago. Deleted half because of poor focus. Reshot chives and a sedum when the sun was behind a cloud. Should have enough photos for the website's first spring “garden walk.” Last night encountered this quote: “As is the Gardener, so is the Garden.” Thomas Fuller, 1732. #701 in a book titled Gnomologia: Adages and Proverbs. . .
3 April
Temp in the upper 20s early in the morning, but reached 81F by mid-afternoon, setting a record high temp in C.R. for this date. Again very windy. The chipper/shredder got jammed, and I couldn’t find the right size wrench for removing the feeder bolts, so I drove to Menards and purchased a new wrench set. Also bought a small garbage can for the NW gate, replacing the big one (with no lid) provided by physical plant. I’m still looking for a garbage receptacle, preferably wooden, similar to what I saw at Mt. Vernon in Virginia, something reasonably attractive and site-appropriate. Also purchased gray braces for the new benches. The white braces I originally purchased are too noticeable, too much contrast with the brown benches. . . . As for the faux clay end tables, they did not look right next to the benches so I moved them to the east end of the garden, under the viburnum. Tomorrow is the first day of Open Garden days. Supposed to be much chillier tomorrow (perhaps highs in the low 40s) so not likely we will have many visitors. Overall, the garden looks good; gravel walk ways relatively free of weeds and grass.
I usually see Stonehenge when I’m storming home down the A303 with Eric Clapton pounding in my ears and a half-eaten Mars bar in my hand. It seems disrespectful to flash by it like this. Suddenly, there they are, the stones, and equally suddenly gone. They don’t have a chance to speak of their consequence, their gravity, their implications.
You should have to walk a considerable distance to find Stonehenge, to take it in as it slowly rises, naked, from the plain, to watch the rectangles of sky between the monoliths change as you approach. If it is pouring with rain, so much the better. No effort we make to visit this place can rival the effort made by its builders. We demean that by glancing at it idly as we pass by at 70mph. A.P.
4 April
Arrived this morning at 8:15. This was our first Open Garden day, so I unlocked the NW gate and set the new Rubbermaid garbage can inside the gate. . . . Came back this afternoon at 1:30. Today was Flunk Day, so many students walking around, shouting at each other, determined to have a good time. No evidence anyone had been in the garden. Flunk Day is an intriguing event on a day like today because everyone is running around in minimal clothing—T-shirts and shorts—despite the chill in the air. This afternoon the sun came out and it warmed to upper 40s, but still a bracing breeze. I wore my coat while working.
I attached the gray braces to the two brown benches; the gray look better than the white. One of the benches is warped, one leg about an inch from the ground. For a temporary fix I placed a small limestone rock under that leg, but we will need a more permanent solution.
With the leaf vacuum I harvested three loads of leaves from the “M” bed [the Garden’s beds are all labeled with letters and corresponding names; the website’s garden map indicates the location for each bed]. The oak leaves are still blowing in and get trapped in various nooks and crannies, including the branches of the large thyme. Ran the leaves and other plant fodder through the chipper/shredder. Worked great. We had one compost bin completely empty; it’s now 2/3 full. Added a compost starter–though not likely the stuff makes any difference.
I brought out the dahlia bulbs from the basement, set them in four plastic bins containing Johnny’s seed starter mixed with vermiculite. Brought the bins to the Garden and put them in the greenhouse. Most of the dahlia bulbs survived their winter storage, throwing away a few that had dried up. I split several larger bulbs, though I wasn’t sure how to divide them. Their “eyes” are not immediately apparent to my eye—not like potatoes. Perhaps half of the dahlias are labeled, but I’m not confident about the accuracy of last fall’s labeling. It was all done very fast. My plan now is to keep them moist, give them light, and plant them in pots once they show signs of growth. There were two that had already sprouted, but I cut back the sprouts because they were thin and lanky, evidence of their futile search for light in an unlit basement.
Traveling at the speed we do, it is difficult for us to capture now those ‘peculiar emotions’ which the young Joseph Hooker described on seeing new countries for the first time. During his lifetime (1817-1911), there were still opportunities for real discovery.
Hooker, who went on to become an influential Director of the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew, made his first expedition into the unknown when he was only twenty-two. Sailing on the Erebus, he left England on 30 September 1839 as official naturalist on a voyage to determine the exact position of the South Magnetic Pole. The Admiralty supplied him with two tin boxes for collecting plants, twenty-five reams of blotting paper to dry and press them and two Wardian cases, like miniature greenhouses, in which to bring live plants back to Kew. Everything else, he had to provide himself.
On New Year’s Day, 1841, more than fifteen months after its departure from England, the Erebus finally crossed into the Antarctic Circle. In his journal, Hooker described the overwhelming vista of ‘snowy precipices covered with an immense bank of broken clouds, each tinged of a golden colour by the never-setting sun; above these rose the immensely high peaks of land, towering up against a beautifully blue clear sky, above which was another canopy of dark, lowering clouds, their lower edges of a bright golden red colour. It was one of the most gorgeous sights I ever witnessed.’
Hooker’s best-known expedition took him to India, where, close to the great mountain, Kangchenjunga, he found vast bushes of Rhododendron falconeri, growing at 10,000 feet with leaves 19 inches long. In Bhutan he collected sweet-smelling R. griffithianum, like a ‘fine lily,’ said Hooker, each pale flower in a truss measuring as much as 7 inches across.
Painstakingly collecting seeds of these beauties, Hooker packed them in tins and dispatched them to his father at Kew. Given the long, slow, arduous process by which these new plants were introduced into cultivation, did gardeners then appreciate them more, value them more? I think they did. The garden centre, the micro-propagation unit has reduced plants to commodities, to so many tins ranged on the shelf. It has, of course, also made them cheaper. A.P.
6 April
I went to Home Depot and purchased four pots: a large “urn” similar to the one I bought last fall and three fake cedar barrels (Chinese plastic). After drilling holes in two of the plastic tubs, we dug up the Phalaris arundinacea (Dwarf Gardener’s Garters) around the sun dial in the “G” bed and buried the tubs, leaving a 1” rim above ground. Filled the barrels with a dirt/compost mix and replanted half of the phalaris (plenty left over). The tubs should control the dwarf garters—an aggressive spreader.
It just started raining again. We had 1/3” last night; supposed to be showers off and on for the next couple of days. Current temp (2:29 pm) is 49F. Forecast predicts subzero temps on Friday night so may need to move the dahlias from the greenhouse to the shed. The electric heater is now set on low and the temp is a comfortable 60F.
8 April
Arrived at the garden at 7:45; NW gate was open (my guess Security did not lock it last night). My new garbage can lid had blown off so I rearranged the plastic bag inside, repositioned the bungee cord holding the Rubbermaid bin to the fence, and placed a brick on the lid. We’ll see how that works. Ran the chipper/shredder for an hour, producing three loads for the compost bin. Still a long way to go with the remaining unshredded fodder, but we’re making progress. I spent some time looking at the remaining forsythia blossoms (just a few remaining on each bush). I read last night about several varieties of forsythia; would be nice to know what family ours belong to. It’s now 12:06 pm; outdoor temp of 40F; overcast and windy, with a few snow flakes in the air.
It is only now, too, that through makeover programmes on television, we have been introduced to the concept of gardening against the clock. Surely, though, most of us garden to escape the clock. At the very heart of the business is the feeling that, when we garden, we abandon a timetable constructed around dentist’s appointments, car services and the possible arrival of trains, to plunge headlong into a completely different timetable, an immense and inexorable one entirely outside our control, defined by weather, and above all the seasons. A.P.
11 April
Worked in the garden for three hours this afternoon. Sunny, temp 48F, windy. Bit chilly but overall a nice April afternoon. Ran one load thru chipper/shredder, than ran out of gasoline. After cleaning out the greenhouse, placed on greenhouse selves the dahlias in their plastic tubs and four trays of grasses and wild flowers I planted in January. Watered everything. The experiment with planting the wild flowers in the middle of winter was disappointing because the sand I mixed in with the seeds has clumped together and became quite hard when it dried.
12 April
Chilly last night, low around 30, but it quickly warmed up. It’s now 2:00 pm, temp of 60F, 29% humidity, cloudless sky, a slight breeze. Beautiful spring day. Brought from home six pots with about 15 delphinium planted in January in a plastic bag. Put them in the greenhouse and watered them and the dahlias. Raked and cleaned up behind NW quad bench. Used trimmer on yews in “I” & “K” beds, the “K” yews finally beginning to acquire a distinctive structure. They look much better than two years ago. Filled the chipper/shredder with gas and ran two more loads. Went to Ever-Green for a load of wood chips, primarily for the path in “H” bed—which was never finished last year. Spent some time studying the bed, trying to determine the path’s final route. Will require taking out some grass, asters, daisies, goose-neck, etc.
The Slow Food movement has had some success in increasing respect for the ingredients with which we cook: good beef, properly reared and hung, decent tomatoes allowed to develop flavour and ripen without the aid of a man in a white coat. So I’m nominating this year for Slow Gardening. Chill out. Relax. Observe. Take time to admire the way a seedling pushes through the earth, its back humped into a croquet hoop with the effort. Even if it’s a seedling of a weed like groundsel, it’s still a miracle of tenacity and endurance. Grow something from seed yourself. If it’s something useful–basil, coriander, rocket–so much the better. Plant a tree. Train a clematis. A.P.
13 April
Monday: observed spring’s first butterfly, one of those small white butterflies with a slightly green tint that dip and dart, constantly on the move, frequently seen in pairs. But this one was flying solo, looking for sustenance in the “C” bed. On Tuesday watched a second butterfly species, small orange and brown, again a loner, also in the “C” bed.
Mystery trees identified: they are flowering crabs . Last year I spotted several small trees in the “H” bed. Their burgundy foliage was attractive, but I still cut them back. Today, while clearing out the area around a drainage pipe, I looked at the new shoots and immediately realized these are flowering crab, the foliage identical to the espalier crab near the NW gate. After removing several, I decided to keep three of them, thinking perhaps I could turn them into small standards. Two of them are really too close to the new path, but for the next year or two, that won’t be a problem. If they prove successful as standards, I will amend the path. I’m not thrilled with the path’s current design–though it’s much better than how it was left last fall.
The point of gardening is the doing of it, not having got it done. It’s the process that matters, though it is of course directed towards an end result. It’s rare now for people to stay in the same place for generation after generation. But continuity produces a tangible effect in a garden: hedges bulge, trees cast ever-longer shadows over a lawn, wisterias send out tendrils to close up the windows. A.P.
18 April
1:00 pm; temp is 83F, 29% humidity—though showers are probably on the way. Another beautiful spring day. This morning I did some weeding, digging up daffodils in the “G” bed. Cut back and dug up roots of swamp milkweed. Need to create a barrier so the roots don’t escape where I want them contained. A lot of horsetail growing in the drainage channel leading into the rain garden. Will need to rake up the rocks, lay down a weed suppressant barrier, and recover with the rocks. Not a fun job.
The new, 3-legged ladder arrived, so I tried it out, trimming tops of yews in “I” and “K” beds. The ladder was expensive but makes it so much easier to reach those high points. The yews are now engaged in an impressive growth spurt.
Solid row of red tulips in “M” under the espalier, the blooms just opening the last two days. Not sure how I like the pink apple blossoms contrasting with the red tulips, but it does create drama. The white apple blossoms will be opening later this week. Also white blooms—and fragrance—with the early blossoming viburnum in “H”. Two wonderful blossoms in “K” bed: the tiny forget-me-not blue flowers on the ‘Jack Frost’ and ‘Silver Heart’ brunnera, and the barren strawberry with lovely yellow blooms. The Garden is pulsating with dynamic color combinations.
19 April
A few minutes after 12:00 noon. Temp of 62F, no wind, overcast. Forecast of rain but no rain so far. Spent most of my morning raking and vacuuming up leaves and filled three bags using the chipper/shredder. We’re getting close to the end. John from Physical Plant turned on the water and started the fountain, its rippling chords a wonderful accompaniment to this Edenic landscape. Not sure equisetum was in the Garden of Eden, but it several loves this garden in Iowa. Dug up several in the rain garden. The soil/compost/sand mix is still very loose, and I was able to pull up all the plants, including the roots. But that won’t be the end of the equisetum. The horsetail is coming up all over the rock channel that leads into the rain garden. . . . Also thousands of Queen Anne’s Lace coming up in the rock channel on the south side. Fortunately the QAL is easier to kill. Also a lot of horsetail in “G” around the rugosa rose. I wish I could find a time machine enabling me to go back two decades and convince the gardener who first planted the equisetum to reconsider that decision.
The white flowering crab are just beginning to come into bloom. They are perhaps two weeks ahead of two years ago—when they were still in bloom for graduation. The blooms will be gone well before graduation. The fragrant viburnum is now in its peak fragrance phase, a wonderful sweetness permeating the east end of the garden.
Another job completed this morning was putting down the weed barrier immediately outside the garden shed and covering it with wood chips. Looks much better. Also dumped a wheelbarrow load of chips on the path in “H”—which will partially cover the area where we have been running the chipper/shredder. All four compost bins are now full. I added some nitrogen-rich fertilizer to three of the bins this morning and discovered all three piles generating real heat. Exactly what we want.
We live in an impatient age, used to quick results. Because people move around more than they used to, they don’t plant things that won’t immediately benefit them. This is a danger in gardens. It leads to layouts that, like instant takeaway food, are ultimately unsatisfying. The ingredients are limited and, after the initial gratification, there is no lingering sense of longer pleasures. But a holly tree, though slow, can give you that in spades. A.P.
22 April
1:40 pm; temp 63F; humidity 62%. Overcast, slight breeze. This morning Kendra and I assembled the Eiffel tower trellis. I planned to place it toward the back of the “D” bed where last summer I planted a ‘Sutherland Gold’ Sambucus canadensis, an elderberry I thought had died. But when we carried the trellis to the spot where there is a break in the yews, we discovered the elderberry with new growth. The miraculous news, however, necessitated finding a new location. After several false experiments, we settled on a spot toward the back of the “G” bed. In fact, the trellis will look and function much better in this location than in the “D” bed. Took some time to get the trellis level and setting it at a slight angle with the walkways (so it need not appear parallel with the walkway lines). It looks okay. Under the trellis I planted a Serotina Late Dutch Honeysuckle (Lonicera periclymenum). It’s supposed to produce purple-red flowers with creamy white interiors during the summer and red fruit in the fall. Described as potentially becoming 20’ long; I’m hoping it proves to be more modest.
This morning a back order arrived from Santa Rosa Gardens—a flower ordered in Feb ’15: a Lewisia x longipetala ‘Little Peach’ Bitterroot. Found a nice vacant area in the crevice garden. There’s a different bitterroot cultivar in the rock garden—which barely survived the winter [and did not survive the following winter; however, the ‘Little Peach” did well and in April of 2017 displayed its first set of peach-colored blooms].
28 April
3:45 pm; 56F; overcast; 80% humidity. Rain gauge recorded 0.9” rain in last 24 hours—and we needed it. Brief shower a few minutes ago with possibility of showers later this evening. Six days since last entry. Here are a few developments:
• Flowering crab peaked about two days ago; this last rain stripped away majority of petals.
• Most of the daffodils are past their prime. The daffs planted in fall of ’14 in east corner of A2 did not do well, very few blossoms. Several patches need dividing and replanting. Will move some daffs from “L” to back of beds “F”, “I”, & “K”.
• Rock garden looks great. Several moss phlox at their peak; white rock cress is about done, but it had a stunning run, one of our April stars.
• Peonies and baptisia are booming, as is the tansy. Some of the Joe Pye have just started; others still asleep–at least above ground.
• Kendra cleared horsetail out of the rock channels leading into rain garden. Covered soil with weed control barrier before putting rocks back in. Still a lot of horsetail in “G”.
• Most of the yews have been trimmed and look the best ever. Many small yew branches on the ground, but they will soon be covered with mulch
• Tilled all but one of the “E” and “J” beds. I left one “E” bed alone because it was already full of flowers that either self-seeded or came back from root stock.
• The greenhouse is full of dahlias and pots with plants/flowers started from seed this winter. As for the two trays of flowers under gro-light in the shed, I just moved them to the greenhouse.
• Big astilbe order arrived from Easy-to-Grow Bulbs. I planted three astilbe in the rain garden and will plant the rest in a couple of days.
• On Monday afternoon, Kendra, Brendan, Katie, and I did an hour walk around the garden, discussing tasks for the summer and next year. One recurrent task is keeping the walkways raked and relatively weed free. Kendra has done a superb job with that responsibility.
• The three hellebore in the berm next to the Leopold Bench have new leaves and may yet bloom. I thought for sure they were gone. The four gayfeathers planted in the rain garden have emerged, ones for which I had little hope.
• The iris in front of the garden shed have bloom buds and should be opening shortly.
• All the cranesbill look good, but none of the red hot pokers survived.
• The ox-eye daisy buds are about to open. I’m hoping the red tulips in the “H” bed hold on long enough so we can have the red tulips surrounded by the white daisies.
• The Hyacinthus orientalis under the pergola are about done, but the grape hyacinths in “C” and “L” look great, much better than last year. I was thinking about dividing up those beds, but they have provided marvelous rugs of blue on each side. The grape hyacinths in “L” nicely complement the brunnera’s lovely small blue blossoms. The brunnera continue to impress me.
• Kendra and I dug up two big hostas out of “A1"; split one and moved it behind NE bench. The other was split and moved to the hosta berm in “G”. Also planted a new Sum & Substance hosta behind the Leopold Bench in “G”.
• The ferns and lilies-of-the-valley that Lois donated are all up and look good.
• Decided to create a fern garden in “G” bed featuring Judson’s Little Gardener statue. Sank a large, oval planter into the ground and in it planted two Japanese painted ferns. Planted two ghost ferns and two ostrich ferns around the perimeter. Covered area with mulch and set a boundary with a “Rhino” border. Looks okay—certainly much better than before.
• Put the Bas Bleu book statue next to the SW bench under flowering crab. Looks okay. The intent was to provide a counterbalance to Pegasus next to the NE bench.
• Pale Corydalis from Field Station is blooming; brings with it wonderful associations of the Boundary Waters.
In your garden, you can make a stand against the prevailing trashy mood of the time. The great eighteenth-century landscape gardens were made at a time when their busy agricultural owners were fencing and hedging and parcelling and enclosing land. Capability Brown’s idealized landscapes reminded them of a pastoral, dreamy past, before turnips, before corn. A.P.
The remainder of Pavord's essay and my May/June Journal entries are available by clicking on this link to the complete Spring 2017 Garden Kalendar. The Coe Garden journal entries conclude on June 13 because two days later I accompanied my wife, daughter, and son-in-law on a three-week trip to England. Following this paragraph is a slideshow with a sample of photos from English gardens we visited during the trip: Regents Park, Green Park, and Hyde Park in London; private gardens in Wiltshire and Cumbria; the Barbara Hepworth Sculpture Garden in St. Ives, Cornwall; the Sculpture Park in Surrey; Wilton Hall (the home of the Earl of Pemberton) in Wiltshire; the great Stourhead estate (an 18th-century landscape garden designed by Capability Brown); and two gardens in Cumbria: the wonderful complex of diverse gardens at Sizergh Castle and the Holehird Gardens near Windemere (the main garden at Holehird similar in size and design to Coe’s Alumni House Garden).