The North Country Gardener

Calla lilies

One magical day, on March 18, 2007, exactly two years ago to the day, we went in search of the mysterious ‘calla lily valley’ high above Taipei. This is where farmers grow thousands of the pure white lilies for the Taipei market. Calla lilies originate from the southern half of Africa, but their message of elegance, simplicity and purity is universal.
We were visiting Dick’s daughter, Eleanor, who had been in Taiwan just six months. Aware of my obsession with all things botanical, Eleanor had planned several plant hunting adventures during our time with her.
That particular day, four of us, Eleanor and her three year old son Miles, Dick and myself, went looking for the ‘calla lily valley’. Since, out the four of us only Miles knew any Chinese (he attended a Chinese nursery school), asking for directions was a definite challenge. But following Eleanor, we boarded a bus which took us into the steep hills above their corner of the city.
We got out at a beautiful manicured park and spent a couple of misty hours hunting for calla lilies. The park was lush and mesmerizing...Stone steps leading to pavilions perched above mini-canyons...Azaleas and impatiens in bloom everywhere, but this small clump was the closest we came to finding calla lilies....

Finally our Search is Successful.....

So we found a second bus to take us higher into the hills, and went to the very end of its route. Here, taking a cue from our fellow travelers, we walked about half a mile up the road. Suddenly out of the mist, the valley opened up to reveal a patchwork of farms and little houses. Calla lilies thrive in a boggy setting and this entire valley seemed to be one large bog, all criss-crossed by stepping stone paths and drainage channels to remove excess water. It was intense and beautiful, and at the same time a little untidy... but every scrap of land was used....no waste!

It was an amazing sight to us westerners, and a salutary lesson in efficient land use. It reminded me of the English ‘allotments’, people growing vegetables on scraps of land adjacent to railroad tracks and the like. But here in America, where we squander our land like it has no end, I have never seen anything like it.

And Some Very Fresh Chicken Soup....

After two more hours walking the little paths between the lily beds the four of us were cold, hungry and not a little damp. Enticing smells emanated from one of the long plastic-covered hoop greenhouses. Inside we found three or four people preparing all sorts of food over portable propane burners, and about twenty tables for patrons, each warmed by its own burner. Since everyone there only spoke Chinese, sign language was our means of communication. However an English translation menu was quickly produced. We requested the chicken soup, along with some stir-fry vegetarian dishes and rice. The soup was delivered in its own big iron pot set over a propane burner, and I ladled out portions for the four of us. And then, there in the bottom of my soup bowl, I saw something I will never ever forget... a scaly, very fresh chicken foot, toes, claws and all. I cannot quite remember what happened after that. I think Dick put the foot back in the soup pot, but I know at that point I, for one, switched to the vegetarian stir-fry dishes.

After lunch, and another look at the amazing farming operation, the people who served us lunch were also able to find us a taxi. The bustling busy city Taipei was just a twenty minute ride down the steep hill, but in our minds it was a whole world away.

Spring is Stirring

Today  is the ‘Ides of March’,  with its mythical message of grim foreboding.   But here in the hills of Vermont, today is full of the signs,  sounds and excitement of spring's impending arrival.  Winter's steel grip is finally relinquishing.

And, as I look out at the garden and up through the woods, everything seems picture perfect. The brilliant azure blue sky contrasts with the brown trees and clean white snow  that, at our elevation anyway, is still hanging on.

 So this afternoon I set off,  accompanied by my faithful dog Bruno, for a long snow-shoe through the woods above our house. And everywhere  I could feel that spring is on the way. Buds on  the trees and shrubs are starting to swell,  especially those on the colonies of Hobble-bush (Viburnum alnifolium),  a prevalent understory shrub in the woods around here. The streams are all running noisily, filled with melting snow and no longer held back by dams of ice.

And, surrounding the trunk of every single maple tree, the snow has completely melted back, exposing a wide ring of decaying leaves and soft brown duff. This is a sure sign of the warmth emitted now by the  tree’s roots, as they force the sugary sap, stored below all winter long, upwards throughout the tree. next month it will reach the branches,  triggering the emergence of flowers followed by leaves.

Indeed our weather right now, with its welcome warm days interspersed by below-freezing temperatures at night, is known as the perfect weather for ‘sugaring’.  A few days ago I took the top picture  of traditional sap buckets  hung around a line of  old maples keeping watch over this valley cemetery.  No snow down in the valley now!  Sap buckets hanging on old maples are a timeless sight.  But actually today most Vermont sugar collectors use lines of plastic tubing strung between the trees to deliver the sap to a central collecting bath...less picturesque but much more efficient!

I am reminded of few years back year, when walking out on snow shoes across the four-foot snow banks,  I did some early spring pruning on our maple trees by the road.  The resulting bleeding of the sap trickling down the trunks for a week or more was a strong message that  trees which run with sap in the spring,  especially maples and birch, should NOT be pruned at this time of year. Leave that job for November!

This spring...remember the winter garden

April and May are the perfect months to lay the foundations for next year’s winter garden.

I realize that for most of us this is probably a really counter-intuitive statement. For the past five months, we have been living with winter and I, for one, am feeling starved for garden color. Just this morning, after fishing through our catalog basket, I dug out the luscious offering from Dutch Gardens. I was positively salivating as I contemplated the beautiful design I would create around our front door with a few gorgeous dahlias and some cleverly color co-ordinated perennials.

When spring finally arrives most gardeners want to totally forget about winters past. But paradoxically springtime is also a great opportunity to plan and plant for the winters yet to come. Shrubs and perennials put in the ground in May will have a full six months to grow before winter dormancy. And with mental images of this past season still fresh in our minds we know where we need to plug the holes and fill in the gaps in our winter garden. So, come spring, it behooves us to spend a little time and energy making our gardens beautiful for winter...a season that, after all, will be with us for a full six months.

With that in mind, I wanted to share some pictures of three less common shrubs that light up my garden as much in winter as in the other seasons.
The picture above is the Seven Son Flower shrub, Heptacodium miconiodes, as I see it from my study window framing the three mounded evergreens behind. Seven Son Flower is usually touted for its late fall flowers (similar in form to those of the hydrangea ‘Tardiva’) followed by dramatic reddish-pink calyces (sepals). However, up at our elevation, there does not seem to be time for those sepals to turn color before a hard frost shuts things down. Perhaps in the valley, where the growing season is a couple of weeks longer, it would perform as advertised. But even without those pink calyces, I really like its winter skeleton and peeling bark, as a foil for the garden behind.

And from my study window I can also see this planting of Kerria japonica ‘Picta’ that forms a low hedge (about 3’ tall) around part of the circumference of our circular patio. In winter its numerous bright green stems show off against the snow throughout the winter and outlining the shape of the patio.

In summertime (in the picture below) Kerria ‘Picta’ sports a froth of pretty grey-green leaves with cream marbling which is very pretty. In May I usually cut everything back right to the ground, which promotes a dense growth of new stems and makes the entire planting work like a ground-cover.

My third favorite shrub for winter is the aptly named ‘Winterberry’. This is a New England native that you often see in growing wild in wet corners of valley fields. There are a number of cultivars available in the nurseries, with sizes ranging from the diminutive Red Sprite (3’ high) up to Winter Red which can grow to 10’. The important thing you need to know about winterberries is that the fruit only forms on the female bushes, but for pollination you need to plant one male bush within about 10 feet of your female bushes. AND you also need to have a male whose flowering coincides with that of the females. Red Sprite needs Jim Dandy and Winter Red needs Southern Gentleman. So check with the nursery when you buy your plants that you have the right male!!  And birds like winterberries as much as people. It seems that most years in November I need to take heroic measures to stop the robins from devouring all the berries before they fly south. However in the bitter weather of January I am happy to let a passing crowd of Pine Grosbeaks have their fill.
I would love to hear about any special shrubs that make your winter garden special. In later postings I will follow up with favorite perennials for winter.

Winter Fences

A simple fence is one of the easiest ways to add character and shape to the winter garden... 

 

A  fence in winter, whether in the garden or around a field, always catches our eye. It  stands out against the snow, with its assertive  horizontal line.  And it  makes a wonderful visual contrast with the  the vertical silhouettes of trees that seem to dominate our New England landscape at this time of year.

But all fences are not created equal.  They have  their own have personalities....rustic, cottage garden, elegant; and the style of fence you choose will also say something about the style of your garden. 

Three fences...three gardens...three personalities

Let's look at three different fences in three different Vermont gardens in the middle of winter.

This  first picture is from Lorraine and Warren Kimble's previous country garden outside Brandon, Vermont. (They still live in Brandon, but they are a little more 'in town' now)

See how the two rails --plus their shadows--- of this single section of split rail fence, book-ended by two old lilacs, creates  a really interesting picture with its horizontal lines setting off vertical trees.  

And a split rail fence brings with it a definite rural personality: it  practically says 'THIS IS AN AMERICAN COUNTRY GARDEN'.  This is a  simple and inexpensive way of making a 'winter garden picture' that could work in many  gardens.

The second picture I wanted to share with you is from Standing Stone Perennial Gardens, in South Royalton.  This is one of my all-time favorite Vermont nurseries. It has great people, great plants AND  beautiful gardens, so it is  a really special place to visit in summer. 

But a few years back my husband and I were also fortunate enough to pay a visit in winter. Dick took the picture below of their picket fence,  peeking up above the snow, and enclosing their kitchen garden. It seems to be keeping the deep forest at bay. 

Like the split rail fence, a picket fence is also a 'country fence'.  But for me anyway it  seems indelibly associated  with some of the English cottage gardens I remember from my childhood,   (not to mention the 'oh so now'  French kitchen gardens or 'potagers' which seem to be the darling of all the American garden magazines these days).

And finally the last picture is from my own garden.  Dick and I created this fence from sections of wrought iron trellis, which we have placed on either side of the walkway that leads into our back garden. We painstakingly planted them to form a straight line and be all at the same depth (which, given our soil, was harder than it sounds!  But now, as we look out from our kitchen window, we do enjoy the fruits of our labors.

Even though my garden as a whole is definitely in the 'country garden' category, I wanted to make this  particular entrance area a bit more formal...hence I chose this type of fence with its stylish personality. I  love the way the snow catches and holds along the railings of the fence and in the branches of the trees behind. It is scenes like this that make a Vermont winter special.

Of course there are lots of other fence styles around. Take a look as you drive or walk around town...perhaps you will see a style that appeals to you and fits your garden (and budget).

Snow Pictures

It is still winter here in Vermont, and my garden is blanketed under a foot or more of snow.  In our northern latitudes, winter is a six-month phenomenon, and much of it will be under snow....so I want to enjoy it.

 

And yes, our gardens in winter CAN be beautiful too...just different from their summertime counterparts. If you have a garden where the trees and shrubs, along with  a smattering of architectural items like arbors and fences,  together to create an interesting pattern, then this so-called 'garden framework'  will stand out all the more without the competition of summer's flowers and leaves. 

And even though it is only mid-February and planting time is three months away, most gardeners I know are already starting to make grand plans for spring.  So now, here in the North Country, while our winter garden are still on full display,  it is actually a great time to contemplate what changes we might want to make so that, a year from now,  there will be more things to see and enjoy. 

Obviously what you see when you look at the garden (or anything else for that matter)  depends on where you are looking from...your viewpoint.   AND, again to state the obvious, in the dead of winter you will mostly survey your garden from the warmth of your living room or bedroom.   So what really counts for making a great winter garden is what it  looks like from your living room and from your bedroom!  

The garden is the picture and the window is the picture frame.

Three viewpoints...three pictures

About a week ago I  took this first  picture from the middle of our patio (the viewpoint) looking through the arch at the gazebo.... 

Since everything neatly lines up on a common axis, I get the effect of the arch framing the gazebo.   I actually planned this view for when we sit on the patio in the summer.

 However, from where I am sitting now, at my desk in  my study, I  can also see the arch and the gazebo.  But since the viewpoint is different,  so the picture is different....  

Although it is less tidy, you can still see the framework of the garden’s design.  And since I spend a lot of time looking out of this particular window I am pleased that the picture it makes has  plenty of interest.

And again, from our bedroom, a different viewpoint and a different picture....

It’s a nice view of the arch, and while you don’t see how it lines up with the gazebo you do see a snowy mountain in the distance.

So before Old Man Winter heads south for six months,  spend a little time standing at your windows and think about what you might like to see changed in your garden for next winter.