Six Weeks Later

Two broken cameras, adventures with colorful birds and venomous snakes, lots of trees and flowers, tons of bacchanal and creative energy, work and love, all in the rain forest. Will find time to blog more too. Soon.

Vie à La Campagne; In Gardens with Jeff & Bruno

            

I owe much of my love for gardening to Jeffrey Farrell. I am also aware of how my lifestyle has been influenced by both him and his partner, Bruno. They live in the small town of Ashfield, Massachusetts, which lies about forty minutes from Northampton and the five-college area at the foothills of the Berkshires and are part of a community of liberals, intellectuals, writers, painters, professionals and simple country folk. Many of them are immigrants to this country or ex-city folks. I was first introduced to Jeff and Bruno while visiting with my then boyfriend, Marc, about twenty years ago. Since then they have become my very close friends.

                                                   Cornus kousa outside the kitchen window


Theirs is a modest house that is both rustic and modern. Wooden with two floors and large windows, it sits on three acres of land that slopes downhill towards flower and vegetable gardens and separated by massive leaves of Petasites from a small pond outlined in yellow-flowering irises. In the winter their bedroom is flooded with light and crowded with overwintering annuals, orchids and succulents while the cellar houses numerous potted salvias, dahlias and an assortment of plants that may survive the New York winter. While Jeff tends the animals and gardens Bruno has undertaken the responsibility of organizing the indoor living space, constantly redesigning and tweaking each room to create uncluttered and simple environments with very carefully selected pieces of furniture, art and other useful and beautiful things. Work of local artists can be found all around. The most recent upgrade is a sleek long rectangular stone sink that sat in some one's yard for about twenty years before catching Bruno's eye. Like the collection of teapots, shelves and everything else in the kitchen and dining area, the sink is modern and elegant.

Jeff and Bruno live in a house without cell phones or television and the spotty internet connection does not inspire the use of a computer. When indoors, we read, listen to MPR or jazz, (I came to love Miles, Nina and Bill T. Jones there) and have long talks over dinner. Those guys make the most amazingly simple and delicious meals, partly because a lot of the ingredients come from their own garden just minutes before they reach the pot or table. Also, Jeff was the original owner and chef of Phez in Northampton. They are vegetarians for the most part and prepare meals that make you wonder why anyone would ever consider eating bacon. At the end of each growing season excess tomatoes and rhubarb are frozen, bottled or given to lucky neighbors or visiting city folk. Dessert with raspberries or blueberries and wine follow as the evening ends with most or all of us
reading.

 

                                                                           Asparagus

It is a nine to five household: 9:00pm to bed and 5:00am to wake, tend to the sheep, donkey and chickens, which are never eaten (at least not by humans), finish reading yesterday's newspaper, browse through plant and seed catalogs then start the day's gardening chores.

Jeff is one of the few people I know who effortlessly completes each NY Times Sunday crossword. I have learned that I will never beat him at Scrabble or Boggle or know all he does about art and history. I hope that maybe one day I will be as knowledgeable as he is about plants and gardening.
I often call him up on the phone to pick his brain about some plant, tree or the other or with concerns about clients or aspects of a particular gardening project. He has been gardening professionally for a long time and there is no garden question he cannot answer. I have had the privilege to work with him maintaining the original plantings in the beautiful garden of Elsa Bakalar, the renowned garden designer and writer. As his assistant in gardens throughout Ashfield and neighboring towns, I'm always eager to learn all I could while enjoying every minute of the sometimes back-breaking work.  On many occasions I've later worked out the kinks in my muscles with walks and yoga with Bruno.

                         Jeff working in Elsa's Garden with my Julian somewhere, hauling off weeds


Having spent much of my life in the tropics, the business of planting bulbs in the spring, knowing the difference between annuals and perennials and how to overwinter plants were all foreign notions to me until I met Jeff. "Salvia" was never part of my vocabulary and I learned to quiet my racing heart after years of being mesmerized by the hues of 'Black and Blue' and the host of other salvias, flitterlaria, flowering onions, poppies, various lilies and uncommon flowering bulbs that parade through the gardens. I discovered how lovely the deadly caster bean plant can be in the mixed border and the difference between Angelica archangelica and the poisonous giant hogweed (Heracleum mantegazzianum), both very stately and lovely.

                                                   Overwinterers: Agapanthus, Salvia, Musa

                                                      Hummingbirds love Salvia and so do I

                                Jeff and Bruno at  the wedding of Andy and Claire on Mt. Greylock

                                                     Sea of Petasites flowing into the pond


Before meeting Jeff and Bruno I had seen photos of poppies but could not have imagined that they would be so delicate and wondrously elegant. Crocosmia lucifer, Oh my! What a striking red it is, rivaling the brightest of tropical Hibiscus and Chakonia. I had never ripped a piece of already-peeling white bark off birch or wondered why the aspen quakes. Until those trips to Ashfield I had only dreamed of fall coloring and I quickly grew to understand why the "Tree Peepers" flock to New England year after year.

 

                                                 New fence for vegetable and flower garden


In the summer we go to bed with the sounds to frogs chirping and awake to birds singing. The boys find garden snakes, newts, frogs and salamanders and have taken turns chasing the sheep and riding Diego, the donkey. We've hiked to waterfalls and to the Buddhist colony nearby. Swam in the lake, rowed the canoes and ridden the horses in the field with an old barn at the foot of the hill near the house. We would bar-b-q and play bocce until it was too dark to see the balls. I've attempted to speak a few words of French at Bruno's Parle Vous brunches. We've rolled around in the grass at the birthplace of Mary Lyons. So, many stories, laughs and good memories, many including our friend, Michael 'Pocahanthus' P. (Pocahanthus for the bareback, bare butt riding scene as he and horse gradually disappeared into the pond). In the winter it is wonderful to wake up with the sky turning from pthalo to cerulean behind the infinitely crisscrossing frames of bare branches and sit by the fire watching cardinals and woodpeckers on massive maples and oaks or clustering around feeders. With the boys we've gone skating on the Ashfield lake where Bruno is fond of swimming, where my boys learned to swim and where Jeff, at the age of sixty-plus, still does back flips off the diving board. We've gone flying over the hill on sleds and bruised our tailbones down the golf course. The boys always seem to wake up early and get wet or covered in snow or mud before I roll out of bed for my coffee made by Jeff and later, tea, with Bruno of course. We've gone for walks through snow-covered woods with only the light of the moon. It is there, surrounded by woods and mountains that I often find inspiration for my paintings. It was there, while walking along the road between Jeff's and Bruno's house and Shelburne Falls that Marc proposed. It was there, on one of those trips in 1996 that we discovered a little cabin on fourteen acres of land, just a mile away, jumped at the opportunity and bought it a few weeks later. Orion was five months old and wriggled in my arms like a fat earthworm all through the closing.

When I am there in the house or gardens or walking along the gravel roads, or in the car moving through rolling countryside spotted with old barns, vast fields and occasional deer and turkey under perfect clouds I become very aware of how nature, open spaces and beautiful scenery affect how we feel and the ways I desire to grow, and improve my life. Yeah, New York City is a fabulous place to call home but there are other, different and equally excellent places where the living is good. Trips out of  the city to the countryside are rejuvenating and restore a sense of priority and balance. Somehow nature has a way of strengthening my faith that we are all striving towards living more simply and honestly and to evolve into better human beings or into a less destructive and more mindful species. Being in the countryside reminds me that what is important is living my life with integrity and without fear while striving towards making a positive impact with my very existence; doing away with the unnecessary or negative, living with passion and compassion and nurturing the people I love are the things that matter. Or maybe it is just the sight of two large sheep and a donkey peacefully walking side by side as they make their way up the gravel road to their home after deciding that were done grazing in the field with the old barn (that houses Blackie, a stray cat who looks like my GiGi), while Jeff naps on the sofa, blanketed in the NY Times and one of many cats, that inspires smiles or calm and something kind of wholesome and wonderful.

I look forward to trips to gardens and that house in the country. The Siberian irises, bee balm, lady's mantle, geraniums, lily-of-the-valley and lamb's ears currently growing in the garden on West 148th Street in New York originally grew in Jeff's garden or in my garden on East Buckland Road. When I tend them I am sometimes transported to those places hundreds of miles away. It is my hope that I can return the favor and inspire Bruno to call asking how to cook some Trinidadian dish that I once prepared there. Or for Jeff to ask for a plant, seed or sapling that he does not already grow himself. Or have him call me up to ask about the growing requirements of a plant or two. His asking will of course be the greatest compliment any gardener can ever receive.

                             

Found Objects

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

E.E Cummings

I found a bunch of these curious objects on the beach in Longbranch, NJ while visiting with a friend last summer. They look like seed pods but reminded me of embryo cases of skate. They also look like some kind of weapon to be hurled or something belonging in a Star Wars movie. (Maybe I'm influenced by my 12-year old playing online Xbox games).  I wondered if they were from land or sea.

Just recently I learned that they are the seeds pods of Trapa napans or Eurasian water chestnuts. These tough boggers use their spikes to hitchhike rides on geese and are also eaten by muskrats, both helpful in distributing the pods.

Trapa napans are aquatic plants and have become an invasive species, problematic in clogging estuaries, causing flooding as they alter geomorphology and cause a nuisance to fishers and beach goers. Environmentalists are devising strategies to control their aggressive propagation so some day, soon, there may be very few of them washed up to be found on beaches.

                                                                 protective egg case of skate


I have a small bone and insect collection. This squirrel skull was found in the West 148th Street garden. The bronze bird is a pendant, a present from the boys.

Another object from the beach. Looks like a seed head but not sure from what plant it came. Please tell me if you know. Thanks.

PLANT PROFILE: Physocarpus opulifolius

[fi-soh-KAR-pus]

I spied this shrub growing near the main entrance of Jackie Robinson Park in Harlem. It has long arching branches covered in pleated, burgundy-colored, lobed leaves. Clusters of perfectly round individual flower buds, tinged with pink, open to reveal small white flowers with airy stamens. Corymbs run along the length of each stem creating masses of attractive blossoms, seducing pollinators. Physocarpus opulifolius is a multi stemmed medium size deciduous shrub native to North America. It is a vigorous grower adaptable to most soils and while it likes sun, it tolerates some shade. As a member of the roseaceae family, individual flowers look like apple blossoms and corymbs resemble those of spirea or miniature snowball viburnum.
 

growing in front of Cornus alba and boxwood

                                  
This particular shrub may be Physocarpus opulifolius 'Summer Wine' named for its dark leaves which make a lovely backdrop for the flowers, especially just before they open and are at their pinkest. There are other varieties with orange to deep red foliage and some with gold-green foliage like 'Dart's Gold'. A dark red cultivar is justly named 'Little Diablo'.

Leaves have lost their brilliant coloring and are bronze-green in July.

White flowers make way for bright red seed pods in July which are said to resemble bladders. Physa is Greek for bladder and carpus refers to the seeds capsules or fruit. Opulifolius suggests that the leaves resemble those of Viburnum opulus. Propagate Physocarpus from seed or from soft wood cuttings in spring.

Physocarpus is commonly known as Ninebark for its many layers of peeling flaky bark which becomes obvious when the colorful fall leaves are gone. The bark contrasts nicely with the red seed capsules that last throughout winter. Only older stems take on the flaky appearance so resist heavy pruning in fall and know that birds will be provided with shelter and food in winter.  I'm considering replacing the purple weigela bush in the148th Street Garden with Physocarpus opulifolius, especially after observing adult and juvenile cardinals there earlier this week. Attractive, not fussy, year-round interesting plant that feeds birds and bees and it is a native. All good reasons to grow Physocarpus.

GRAHAM COURT: A Gem In Harlem

"This is Harlem? Are you kidding me? What other places like this exist in Harlem that I am unaware of? I want to live here." Those were my thoughts as a kind tenant let me through the tall gates to a lengthy, high-arched entrance supported by pinkish-brown polished granite columns. I stepped into the courtyard of Graham Court. In front of me stood the slightly elevated oval garden constructed of concrete with a circular planter siting in the middle. A cross axis divided the oval and created four large beds and four paths and on either side of each path entrance were square pedestals. My research later revealed that globes of electric lamps on spindly iron posts once stood on these and the circular planter was the base of what originally was a water fountain.

Built at the end of the eighteen hundreds in the style of Italian palazzo buildings, Graham Court was prized as the stylish and exclusive luxury residence of the wealthy. It was designed by architects Charles Clinton and William Russell, the same designers of the Astor Hotel and the Apthorp, for William Waldorf Astor. Made of limestone, brick and terracotta, the building spans the entire block between 116th and 117th Streets with the entrance on Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard. Graham Court has been compared to the Dakota for its bulky, fortress-like structure and stables which occupied the basement level. The apartments are suited with mahogany and oak floors, high ceilings and the ones I was privileged to visit had multiple bedrooms, separate dining rooms, claw-foot baths and original molding details. Over the years the building and courtyard have been featured in films including a scene that was to be set in Russia. In fact at the time of my last visit, a crew was preparing a few apartments to shoot another film.

The garden after my severe but necessary cutback

It is a garden in part sun enclosed by eight stories of apartments. The large gated entrance which leads out to the street allows for air circulation and I was surprised to see some sun-loving plants thriving there. It appears that the original garden design contained a few shrubs including rhododendron (one in each bed), a tallish vase-shaped Hibiscus, some yucca and other small plants placed to create symmetry among all four beds. No lavish plantings or horticultural feat. There was also a low-growing ground cover, possibly grass. The original design was not meant to encourage seating.

Photo Courtesy of Architectural Record, 1901

The current plantings consist of a multitude of hibiscus, a few taxus, cotoneaster, euonymus, some scraggly roses and Hydrangea macrophylla. In the bed at the north east corner stands a Cornus florida next to purple-leaved Japanese maple, which was smothered by a giant hibiscus. At the south end of the south-west bed grows a Lagerstroemia (crape myrtle). I was pleasantly surprised to find this shrub with its elegant cinnamon bark. It stands at about twelve feet tall and is the largest crape myrtle that I've seen in Harlem. Crape myrtles are marginally hardy to this area but this one may be helped by the protective barrier created by the surrounding buildings. One bed contained a massive mildew-covered droopy euonymus shrub. Grass has since then been replaced by vigorous creeping euonymus. The oval garden is separated from planting beds near the entrances of the buildings by a paved road, wide enough for a car or horse carriage. These beds are covered by a mixture of Vinca minor, English ivy, liriope and hostas, above which tower hibiscus and an occasional yew. On the north side there is a Eunonymus alatus, again smothered by a hibiscus bush and on the southeast side stands what appears to be one Aronia melancarpa.

I was brought in to help manage the overgrown shrubs. There was no budget for regular garden maintenance and volunteers had in the past done whatever and whenever they could or saw fit.

Numerous hibiscus had re-seeded and created hundreds of small trees and saplings. These may all be from generations of offspring from the original shrubs planted over a century ago, and each one, even the saplings, was covered in unbelievable amounts of sap-sucking gray aphid colonies. Also, these shrubs were not pruned in late winter and there was much new growth on top of the old seed capsules. The unusually warm winter and following dry spring only added to the aphid situation which is so out of control that it will take immediate and regular spraying to reduce the population. I did some light pruning of the shrubs and found that I needed goggles to keep aphids out of my eyes. I was covered in them.

Thick winter creeper had climbed into the tops of shrubs. I discovered that there is a terracotta edged planting circle buried under vines in the midst of each bed. This deep carpet, while providing year-round greenery, coupled with the ivy, masses of green hostas and deep green liriope has made the garden green, too green and a bit somber-looking. Broken terracotta and plastic pots sat among the shrubs and spindly trumpet vines slouched along walls of the buildings with no support in sight. There is little variation of shades of green and no variegation. Apart from the deep red of the maple, a few remaining flowers on the dogwood and one rhododendron, there was no color in mid-April. Dead or dying branches and stems needed to be pruned from the maple, crape myrtle, yews and rhododendrons. Some residents had tried to remove unsightly growth by breaking of the limbs, leaving unsightly stubs. Other dead limbs just hung there.

Interesting, the dynamics of working with a group of volunteers. Gardening is a great pastime and has rapidly become a popular American hobby. There is pleasure and a sense of pride in watching the bulb planted a few months earlier pushing its way out of the ground in spring and knowing that you are doing a bit to improve your immediate surroundings and the environment. Gardening is relaxing and when done at a leisurely pace and without strain it can be very therapeutic. It prevents visits to the doctor and shrink. Unfortunately though, many do not understand that there are distinct lines between gardening as a hobby and gardening as a profession and on both sides there tends to be varying degrees of knowledge and experience. I've found that almost anyone who has done a bit of gardening considers themselves a gardener and some may even think they are experts. During the eleven hours, (spread over two days) that I worked in the garden at Graham Court there were strong opinions about the ivy growing near concrete and inching up the walls; about the "deadly" euonymus that would "strangle" the shrubs; how and when certain shrubs should be sheared or cut to the ground and opinions on what was considered a weed. Many residents stopped to give positive feedback and thank me for "finally doing something". Others simply made comments to each other or on the phone as they walked past, expressing their opinions or detailing their gardening experience and knowledge some gained through having been related to a landscaper. One made it known that gardening "was his other life" and another chronicled his past as a professional gardener.

The situation is the same in community gardens that I've visited in the city where opinions are rife and I am careful about giving feedback even when it is requested. So often I would notice someone doing something that would be harmful to the life of their plants, their plot or the entire garden and I bite my tongue for fear of offending. As with each of their five by ten foot raised beds, community gardeners are often territorial and resist encroachment on their gardening styles. Some consider themselves experts in the field and many are willing to dispense information rather than accept it easily.

I also encountered strong opinions about how much a gardener should be paid since volunteers had been gardening for years without pay (hence the word "volunteer"). The notion that a gardener is the hired help to mow the lawn, pick up the dog poop and do whatever he or she is instructed and be paid as such is not uncommon. Further compounding the situation is misinformation about the differences between the person who may adequately cut the lawn, add mulch and shear hedges and a gardener. Or the differences between a gardener and garden or landscape designer. I have witnessed groups under supervision of an "expert" planting in waterlogged soil, plantings with root balls half way above soil level and throughout the city you can see evidence of horrifically butchered trees, by experts of course. Around Harlem I have noticed red and orange mulch placed under the perfectly manicured shrubs, all looking like they belong outside Ms. Havisshram's cottage. It seems to be the look that many maintenance crews emulate. There is little to be done when it comes to teaching aesthetics in gardening. As with so many areas, taste is subjective and very much so with a group of volunteers with little or no gardening experience or trained eyes who may be of the opinion that gardening is a no-brainer; anyone can do it. After all, how difficult can it be to pull a weed or two or plop a plant in the dirt and cover up the roots? Lawn Boy, Gardener, Horticulturist, Garden Designer, Landscaper, Landscape Designer, Landscape Architect - all the same, right?
 
With a limited budget, thus limited time, my goal was to establish a bit of order to the overgrown plants, give advice about what could be done to enhance the garden and arm two capable and committed potential group leaders with a few steps to share with volunteers. There was no lack of interest or eagerness to garden. There was also an obvious willingness by residents to lend financial support. As with the garden near my apartment building and other new gardens, a bit or organization, regular meetings, commitment, planned events like trips to other gardens and garden exhibits and lectures, incentives like group dinners and refreshments during or after work sessions and recognition, this group may well be successful at doing regular seasonal plantings and weed management.

Ideally I would overhaul and redesign the beds to include plants for creating light, contrast, color and more symmetry. Especially since the garden is viewed from above and is the centerpiece of the building, it should be enjoyed at ground level and be beautiful from every floor. Adding a few tall shrubs and repeating the red of the maple (which matches the upper facade) will create balance. Although they will provide color in summer, I would remove and transplant many of the hibiscus that are dominating the space. I'm not particularly fond of hibiscus but some would stay since they were part of the original design. It may be costly to replicate the original lamps (which I think overshadowed the original plantings and there is a pair at the entrance of each building) and water fountain but the garden can be restored to its original glamor with elegant stone planters of clipped boxwood on each of the pedestals. As with the original design, seating is not encouraged but residents sit along the edge of the oval and often remove any lightweight planters placed on the pedestals. Heavy, sturdy planters and obvious attention and care for the garden may curb this habit. Maintaining evergreen and colorful plants in the circular planter and replacing the urn with a larger, taller one would also make an impact. Along with supplemental seasonal plantings like annuals in spring and summer, bulbs for spring flowers, fall planting in September and winter greenery the garden can be an interesting and beautiful oasis all year long. Immediate pest management and regular pruning would be crucial.

I am very happy to have found this beautifully constructed garden and building in Harlem, a very exciting place to live in New York. Graham Court has inspired me to learn more about the history and preservation of other buildings and gardens in the area. I am thrilled to have had brief access to this historic building and I bet many landlords and realtors would also like access. Over the years there have been attempts at converting the apartments to condominiums and while some are eager for this move, others are comfortable with their rent-control status. With the ongoing gentrification of Harlem, construction and increasing ownership of once-rental apartments, I think that change will come to Graham Court sooner that many occupants would like. Some have stuck it out and continue to struggle through obstacles and uncertainties surrounding management and its future. Graham Court, the apartments and the garden, are very much worth fighting for, landlords, unlawful and unruly renters, aphids, weeds and all. It also needs to be restored and maintained as the landmark that it is and be forever highlighted as one of the jewels of Harlem.

When It Rains

Early Spring

Feeling unprepared. This weird winter has made me uncertain about how much pruning to do and when. I started work in the garden near my building fearing that a major freeze would come at any moment and traumatize the already confused plants. I pruned the rosebushes, (which had so much new growth on them that it seems that there was no winter at all), cut back Miscanthus and Hakonechola grasses, pruned older stems from Hydrangea macrophylla and cut back Buddleia davidii (butterfly bush) to about ten inches.

There are about twenty varieties of narcissus in the garden and a few are displaying their starched collars, some ruffled petticoats and swirling wings. Crocus are also blooming. They are not loving the heat. Some are floppy or already wilting.

No blue of Scilla siberica yet but there is evidence of many tulips and alliums. I spied the red new growth of Dicentra spectabilis (bleeding heart) creeping up and the fuzzy buds on Magnolia stellata are bursting open. There is so much to do in this garden this year and so many changes to be made. Springing ahead but with unsure steps, a bit of trepidation and faith. Gotta have faith.