Little BITs, Art and Science at PS3

It is the end of an era. June 28 was our last day of school at Public School number 3 on 490 Hudson Street in the heart of Greenwich Village. This school has been part of our lives for over ten years beginning with Orion's first day of class with Isabelle, a delightful (now retired) teacher who wowed us with her kindness and great attitude towards learning. Over the years the boys were privileged to be under the care of many teachers but shared only one, Cynthia W,(Sley) who is also the lead vocalist of the punk-rock band, Bush Tetras and performs regularly with her new band. The year ended with Andrea, a tough but caring teacher who kept her brood very close as she dispensed doses of discipline and imaginative tutoring while fostering independent thinking.

PS3 is a public school well known for its creative agenda and parent participation. For years I’ve escorted classes to numerous museum and science trips, Alvin Ailey performances, donned my cowboy hat and boots for square dances and attended scores of exhibitions and concerts. Several of these events were hosted or organized by parents. It also must be noted that many students are offspring of well known actors, comedians, models, musicians and scientists. I often bumped into Louis C.K. and his red-head daughters squeezing through the auditorium doors, or that actor from Swimming With Sharks. Natalie Portman walks her dog past the school and I once got a smile from Edie Falco as she squatted with a little girl against the blue doors of the front entrance. 

The school has been dubbed The Hippie School for its bare-foot dance teacher and same sex parents parading the hallways and its laid back, almost-too-relaxed approach to learning. I am sometimes distressed at the fact that the use of computers has hindered the kids’ ability to write (will they ever write a love letter, in script?) and spelling does not seem particularly important since there is always spell check. However, the kids are happy and thriving and like my Julian, they are being accepted into some very competitive and sought after middle schools. Julian is always singing something or the other for a musical on the Civil Rights Movement, or from the most recent, The Internal Organ Hall of Fame, a full length musical. Julian was The Stomach, one of three organs nominated for induction into the Hall of Fame. I attended one of many performances of this play in which there was a scene where an incredible boy (PS3's own “Groovy Guy”) with tons of energy and charm appeared on stage in his role of Raging Hormone. Parents were on their feet clapping as he stormed off, flailing. Although it was funny and very entertaining, I found myself growing increasingly emotional throughout the performance. I kept thinking that soon I would no longer see some of those kids and of how they grew so well and so quickly and how I had witnessed my Julian become great friends with one boy he had earlier considered his “arch nemesis” while some other best buds became just friends.

"....Thirty feet of beauty, come and see
Each organ is a cutie, just like me
No wonder we are snooty
We're the best
Thirty feet of beauty
Let's digest...." 

I watched as the Heart extolled his virtues, the Appendix bemoaned her insignificance and other organs danced and sang their parts with verve. It was exciting watching the kids growing into teens and poised on the edge of great futures but also sad, because they were so quickly shedding off their childhood. During the previous weeks I was often surprised to find that they were so brave, so talented, so funny and innovative and always protective and supportive of each other. I became increasingly grateful for all the parents who contributed financially or otherwise to make the process of learning a fun and positive experience for my children.

I read somewhere that gratitude is evident in the ability to give to others. After getting the Julian Nile Strait seal-of-approval I approached his teacher who agreed to let me have four sessions in which to introduce botany/ plant science to her brood of 4th and 5th graders. We started with a brief history of botany and the rise of interest in plants in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. I remember so well the look on Julian’s face after the first five minutes of class. It said “You are talking too much Mom. Don't bore us and embarrass me in front of my friends.” His expression changed as soon as I said "Now let’s look at some plants". The kids were encouraged to smell, touch and even taste. A little green spider helped to increase the excitement among the boys. In following classes we talked about the parts of the plants and their functions. Then there was a bit on how plants are classified and the simplicity behind the seemingly complicated business of botanical nomenclature or bi-nomial (two name) system. There is a lot to be guessed about that TV show Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader..... These kids are smart and curious and often when I thought their eyes were beginning to glaze over I found that they were absorbing the information and could later clearly repeat what I had said earlier. Their interest become obvious when parents started writing and stopping me in the hallway to say how excited their kids were about the class. In the midst of the first lesson one boy said “We are little bits.” “What?” I asked. "Botanists In Training “ he replied, and indeed they were. How quickly they understood that folia and phyllum referred to leaves, flora and flori to flowers and carpa to fruit. They got that bi, tri, odor, micro, acutus and palmate meant two, three, fragrant, sharp, palm-shaped, tiny and large and realized that if they listened to their brains a little they could sort out the meaning of descriptive names or the specific epithet of many plant names. The cor in cordate or cordata referred to the heart as in coronary and dent in dentata referred to teeth as in a toothed leaf. They understood that Hydrangea macrophylla had big leaves and that Quercus rubra was the scientific name for red oak. They picked up this stuff with ease. They also figured out that names including words such as cheninsis, peruvians, canadensis, virginiana, mexicana and so forth told stories about the origins of the plants and that names like Lewisia or Clarkia informed us about who may have discovered the plant or about who it was named after. Later the kids each selected two cuttings from flowering plants and common New York City street trees to be pressed. The trees included Ginkgo biloba, Liquidambar (sweetgum), Gleditsia triacanthos (honey locust), Quercus rubrum and Quercus palustris (red oak and pin oak), Platanus acerfolia (London planetree), Acer platanoides (Norway maple) and Tilia cordata (Little leaf linden).

We went on a trip to the New York Botanical Gardens and looked at botanical illustrations, made drawings of plants and went on a guided poetry walk featuring the poems of Federico Garcia Lorca. All the while our plant specimens were drying out in plant presses and under the large rug on which the class spent part of their day listening and voicing their options on various current events. Our final class together involved the mounting of the dried specimens which were immediately transformed into works of art by the sheer act of being placed against a white background, creating very graphic representation and documentation of natural history. I helped with the labeling. The kids were very proud of their scientific artwork and they had every right to be. They were beautiful.


A few days later I saw on the news that iPhone had just released a new app aimed at helping users identify city trees. The app includes the option to photograph a leaf, type in the location of the tree and the correct ID is spat out. How cool is that! I hope I have done a little bit to inspire a few kids to become naturalists, more observant of their natural surroundings or even to consider careers in the field of botany, horticulture or environmental science. I hope they continue to impress their parents by noting the difference between a London planetree and the sycamore or be curious about the purpose of the hairs or waxy surface of some leaves. If they are curious about the meaning of triacanthos as in Glestidia triacanthos or notice the abundance of detail and beauty that lie in each leaf or tree bark then I’ve done a bit to improve their lives and our future.

In just a few weeks the Little BITs of PS3 will start new lives as they enter various middle schools throughout New York City. Many thanks to the teachers, parents, student teachers, office and support staff for their roles in creating amazing human beings (with intestinal fortitude) and for making the world a better place.

Adventures With Fruit

While riding the New York City subway I either do the daily sudoku puzzle or I read the New Yorker or one of many books or magazines about botany, gardening or garden/landscape design. Sometimes I just grab whatever reading material is nearby as I rush out of the house. For a few weeks I read a book titled Fruits Trees of the Caribbean. It covers the Caribbean in general but fails to include many of the fruits I grew up eating and cherished while growing up in rural Trinidad. I decided to seek out some of these missing fruits on my next trip home. I wondered how many of my nieces and nephews ever ate a tonka bean fruit or topi tambo or peewah or balata. My Plan was to photograph these fruits and write about them along with some other not-so-familiar fruits and educate myself and others in the process.

 
                                                                      balata (Manilkara bidentata)


My trip began at the end of December 2010. After a night out on the town, my sister and I returned to our room at the Hyatt in Port-of-Spain at about 4:30 on the morning of New Year's day. We were exhausted and happy. Dancing is so much fun. There on the table sat one of two magazines highlighting the history and culture of T&T. To my delight and chagrin there was a short article about fruits of Trinidad and Tobago with a note that the author had just completed a chart listing all ninety-four (94) fruits found on the twin-island republic. Alas, he had not just beaten me to it but had gone far beyond the scope of my plan. I made a note to seek him out.

A couple weeks later, after emails and phone conversations, we met at the foot of Lady Chancellor Road leading to the Horticultural Society of Trinidad and Tobago. His name is Nasser Khan and he is a feature writer for the Trinidad Guardian and other local newspapers. Mr Khan has written many articles on cricket and the history of Trinidad and Tobago. Check his work out at http://www.bestoftrinidad.com/profiles/nasserkhan.html. As a result of the work on the fruit chart Mr Khan has been commissioned to create similar charts for each of the Caribbean islands. He is also working on the publication of a text book to be used as a guideline for students studying local agriculture. All this is done outside of his role as a businessman in the commercial industry of Trinidad and Tobago Carnival. He is a very knowledgeable, energetic and passionate man and I thoroughly enjoyed the little time we spent talking while driving around Port-of- Spain. In addition to admitting to the fact that I am ignorant about many of the fruits on the chart, speaking with Mr Khan made me aware of how little I know about current events in T&T. I am inspired to keep more informed (as if the constant political drama of America is not enough to keep me occupied and depressed).

Unlike many Caribbean islands, Trinidad shares the flora and fauna of much of South America. Many trees which are endemic to Trinidad are also native to Brazil, Guyana and Suriname. We also share many of the poisonous snakes and primates. Think of all of South America packed into one small island, separated from the continent by a few miles of ocean. Fruit names like cocorite, gru-gru and gang gang, and of course, peewah always remind me that I am the daughter of the soil shared by natives or Ameriandians who populated the island at the time of Christopher Columbus' “discovery”. I imagine that these fruits, especially peewah, were the source of starchy powder to make breads and other nutritous foods for Caribs and Arawaks. I crave these fruits and identify with them as much as I feel the need to move my body when I hear drummers beating out their rhythms on the subway platforms.

Cocorite (Attalea maripa)
Sweet and yellowish brown when ripe, cocorite's lure is in the thin layer of sweet flesh which surrounds a dense pit, wrapped in a papery skin. The pit which is about 1.5 inches long is smooth and brown and shaped like a zeppelin with two eyes on the rounded end. As children we would rub the eyes on concrete until the area around them became thin enough to pierce the eyes with a pin or small nail. We would then pry out tiny pieces of the coconut-like flesh inside until the seed was a hollow vessel into which we could blow and voila, we had a whistle. Cocorite is eaten whole and dispersed by forest animals. My father grew up near the Pitch Lake in La Brea and still today talks of his adventures through the cocorite fields on his way to and from school.

                                                                            peewah


Peewah (Bactris gasipaes)
Some of my favorite childhood memories are of waiting for the freshly boiled peewah (chataigne or topi tambo) to become cool enough to be handled and eaten. Cooked in salted water, peewah is a starchy treat with a thin shell housing a little coconut in the middle. A seedless version called kerekel may be the result of an undeveloped or unfertilized ovules. Kerekel is often acorn shaped and has a milder flavor than the darker-fleshed and skinned peewah.

Tonka Bean (Dipteryx odorata)
The fruit in best known for the treasured seed which is often compared to vanilla bean with hints of caramel, vanilla and almond. It contains a chemical called coumarin which is harmful if ingested at high levels. Tonka Bean is used to flavor sweets, ice-cream and it is a common ingredient in perfumes. It is rumored that tonka bean extract is the secret ingredient in the much coveted recipe of the legendary Angostura Bitters, produced solely in Trinidad.

Most people do not realize that the seed is just one intriguing part of this delicious fruit. The papery skin covers a half inch thick layer of marzipan-like sweetness held together by short fine hairs attached to the large seed. As children, we used our bottom teeth to scrape off the pasty flesh and ended up with teeth-full of fine fibers. It was always worth it. The washed and fluffed hairy seed was an excellent throw thing and with some grooming and eyes it made an excellent and very quiet pet.

Balata (Manilkara bidentata)
I vaguely remember some story about balata trees being the home of poisonous snakes. That never interfered with my love for this hard-to find fruit. It is a small fruit of about an inch in diameter with a rather large seed surrounded by a very sweet, grainy pulp containing a gummy milk. The milk makes it unpleasant to eat sometimes but that problem can easily be solved by using a spoon to scoop out the delicious, sapodilla-like flesh. It was difficult to keep my objective in sight. I was so excited about finding some balata that I ate almost all before remembering to photograph them. Balata trees are known as rubber trees and my father described how his mother and other workers cut “V” slits on the trunks to collect the sap in rubber fields common many years ago. The sap is used to make latex and other rubber products.

Like the wood of poui (Tabebuia), a tree well known in Trinidad for its beautiful habit and colorful blossoms, balata wood is extremely dense and has much commercial value for its strength and durability. Deforestation continues to rob us of natural habitats for diverse creatures and makes some once-common fruit trees almost rare. I could only hope that as these very significant trees are harvested for furniture and construction or cleared for housing and roads that seedlings are planted to avoid decimation of the population. The cocorite fields through which my father and his siblings walked to and from school have almost all been cleared by expanding oil companies. Peewah is rarely seen on the market. I would like my sons and later generations to experience the joys of tasting and knowing these unique fruits and realize that they are part of the natural history of the islands, most carried over from the continent and all harvested by myriads of ethnic groups for centuries. These fruits are a record of our illustrious past. Today balata trees are almost always found deep in the forest, possibly and justly so, guarded by massive pythons.

Spring in Central Park

A few photos.

Spring and Love

It is spring! After a long winter we welcome the beginning of this new period that is ripe with promise and optimism for a better year ahead. The red buds are showing off their stuff, magnolias are bursting open, narcissus are reaching up saying “Look at me, me” and love is in the air. What better place is there for a outing than at the New York Botanical Gardens. You are privy to the world's largest collection of plants in North America and if and you are fortunate to live in New York City, this magnificent 250 acre garden is your very own special backyard. Fill your backpack with some fruit, water, cornichons, cheese, pate, bread or crackers and wine. Wear your walking shoes. Grab the one or ones you love and a camera and head out. Take Metro-North to the Botanical Garden Stop or the D or number 4 trains to Bedford Park stop and a short walk to the Mosholu entrance on Kazimiroff Boulevard. Get a map as you enter and begin exploring.

Start with the Daffodil walk and see how many types of narcissus there are. These carpets of cheerful blossoms are a most welcoming sight. Some have double petals, ruffled skirts, stiff petticoats and tinged centers. A few are fragrant while others have erect cups or elegant wing like petals. Do not bypass the rock garden with its display of miniature narcissus, crocuses, rock irises, every imaginable species of tulip and much more. You can’t miss Scilla siberica which is my all time favorite spring-flowering bulb, quite possibly because it offers a perfect true blue (cobalt to azure) flower which is uncommon in the garden.

Nearby is the Mertz Library which hosts the largest collection of botanical and horticultural information to be found anywhere in the world. Delve into the history of botany, the impact of plants on the scientific revolution and see similarities between the collapse of Wall Street and the upheaval of the 17th century European economy, all to be blamed on that deceitful, bewitching beauty named Tulipa. Inform yourself about Darwin’s theories on natural selection and plant observations. Please don’t drool over the gorgeous display of colorful botanical illustrations some of which are centuries old. Read about the history of botanical Latin and plant nomenclature so you can later torture your sweetheart by using the descriptive parts of plant names in everyday banter, “looking rather pubescent this morning darling” or “toenails acutus....”

The Enid Haupt Conservatory is the largest greenhouse in North America and displays the breathtaking tropical rain forests collection that always makes me giddy with pleasure and also thoroughly homesick. Observe how the temperature changes as you meander from room to room and feel the mist on your skin as you encounter a multitude of towering ferns, mosses and plants that seem otherworldly yet like they have been growing there, undisturbed for centuries. Linger in the Aquatic Plants room to be mesmerized by the giant jade vine, Strongylodon macrobotrys. I first saw this phenomenal plant growing on a hillside in Kingston and then years later in Maui. It took my breath away. Oh My God! Yes! Who else but God could have conceived of such a confluence of unreal blues, purples and mint greens into this hanging mass of claw-like, cascading wonder. There is nothing like it, at least not on this planet. A few feet away you will find the reddest of red passion flower, Passiflora vitifolia var. bractiosa and the very exotic and showy blossoms of Thunbergia mysorensis .

Step outside to be in the presence of majestic lotus flowers, water lilies, papyrus and other water-loving plants sheltering bright orange koi before heading back inside to proceed along the walk to the cool, misty rooms of the rain forest flora and through the tunnel to the cactus and succulent collection. There you will find an explosion of textures and plant forms some of which look so unlike living matter. It is amazing to see how plants adapt to growing conditions, some even in the harshest terrains, and realize that like humans they are determined to survive.

Even when the annual orchid exhibit is over you will find a wide assortment of this very sensual flower tucked among or protruding from the greener plants. These exotic plants will have you oohing and aahing repeatedly. The origin of the word orchid is “orkhis“ which means “testicle”. Georgia O'Keefe brought to our attention other body parts in her beautiful flower portraits and it is easy to see through her eyes when you observe these amazing specimens. The Aztecs and Greeks believed that orchids increased fertility and virility. Some have an intoxicating fragrance, (vanilla beans come from orchids) and others have been used in love potions. Nothing says "I dig you" like a gift of orchids.

The Mertz Library hosts the largest collection of botanical and horticultural information to be found anywhere in the world. Delve into the history of botany, the impact of plants on the scientific revolution and see similarities between the collapse of Wall street and the upheaval of the 17 the century European economy all to be blamed on that deceitful, bewitching beauty named Tulipa. Inform yourself about Darwin’s theories on natural selection and plant observations. Please don’t drool over the gorgeous display of colorful botanical illustrations some of which are centuries old. Read about the history of botanical Latin and plant nomenclature so you can later torture your honey by using the descriptive parts of plant names in everyday banter “looking rather pubescent this morning darling” or “toenails acutus....”

Take a stroll to the stunning magnolia gardens where you can loose yourself among the multitude of blossoms. Continue walking south to the Peggy Rockefeller Rose Gardens. This garden is just a tease in early spring but make a note to check back in a few weeks to savor the allure and sheer beauty as you are surrounded by the fragrance and magic of the most perfect flower, all arranged in this strikingly designed garden with a formal radial axis. Very romantic. Delight in the very phallic bronze sculptures of Amorphallus titanum by Tom Otterness at the Nolan Greenhouses. Then wander over to the Benenson Ornamental Conifers. Who knew there were so many types of conifers, some so compact, perfectly shaped and as cute as a button. These lovelies provide greenery throughout winter and the range of hues and shapes make them desirable for the sunny garden, container or window box. You can take the tram all over the 250 acres but if you and your date are walkers, stroll and enjoy. There are so many nooks and crannies and lovely sites that you will not be able to resist stealing kisses frequently. Hands off - the plants please.

Your date may end at the very classy and tastefully stocked Botanical Garden Shop with its inventory or high quality botanically inspired wares for the home and garden, jewelry and a host of gift -giving products ranging from plants to toys. There you will find books on architecture, landscaping, botanical arts and or course all manner of books and horticulture. As a gardener I’ve found the plant selection to be more varied and interesting than at the farmers market on Union Square. You may be introduced to some new beauty like the striking eriginum, Papaver orientals or various shades and Brunnera macrophylla.

For a romantic dinner take a short walk through the main entrance, through Lehman College and head to Arthur Avenue, a very authentic Italian-American community packed with delis, restaurants, seafood and butcher shops and fresh food markets. It is a place uncrowded by tourist and feels more like Italy than Little Italy in Manhattan ever does.

It is all too easy to forget to take care of yourself especially when much of your energy is focused on taking care of others. Solitary walks through the garden can be a very rejuvenating and introspective experience, especially in spring. There is so much beauty and bounty in this ever-changing rolling landscape that some of it seems to permeate the senses and nourish the soul. Such walks, along Daffodil Hill, past splendidly flowering weeping cherries and crab apples, towards the river and waterfall and across the bridges near the Goldman Stone Mill never fail to revitalize my spirit and inspire hope and resolutions for the rest of the year. There is a shady nook between the Seasonal Walk and the Display Gardens. I sometimes sit there and observe the various birds happily splashing around in the little brook and imagine the garden is the most perfect home for them and other creatures, like myself. The garden is synonymous with comfort and peace and inspires me to love and do good things for myself so I can better love and care for others.

If you are not yet a member of The New York Botanical Garden, become one now since you will want to make regular visits. The garden changes constantly throughout the year so always check to see what‘s new. Your dates there are promised to never be boring. Don’t miss the display of peonies along Perennial Garden Way and the gorgeous displays at the Luce Herb and Irwin Perennial Gardens. All kinds of novel plant combinations will thrill you as you walk along the matrimonial, uhm, I mean the Seasonal Walk. There a perfect outdoor room just ahead. No wonder the garden is a favorite spot for bridal showers and weddings. Exit on the right and head to the display gardens and once again delight your senses with the assortment of color, fragrance and texture. Make a gift of membership to the New York Botanical Gardens to a loved-one. It is guaranteed to be the beginning of a rewarding and lovely long-term relationship, with the garden.

Yoga Garden

A friend recently asked me if I had ever considered combining gardening and yoga. I looked at him as if he had three heads before thinking about his question for a moment. Did he mean designing gardens specifically for yoga practice, or incorporating yoga moves into my garden routines or designing gardens that inspire meditation? He later sent me a link to a site that focused on yoga practice to strengthen the muscles commonly worked out during garden chores and instructions to relax and sooth muscles aches associated with gardening injures. Gardening can be a series of repetitive tasks including lifting, stretching, digging, raking, lots of bending and using hand tools. As an urban gardener my job often involves installation in high, windy places and there are circumstances which often require sudden movements. Any combination of the above can cause injury and/or aches and pain. Unfortunately I do not have the luxury to move at a relaxed pace on many of my projects. In one day I can visit up to four gardens to do installations or maintenance and there is little time to focus on deliberate, careful movement. 

However, one particular garden always brings yoga to mind. It is a garden in the West Village which was designed for a classical music composer-conductor by my Mac Carbonel of Verdant Gardens Design. The garden is a simple layout in two levels. The upper level is made of long beds of tall bamboo on three sides of a rectangular gravel-laid area. At the end furthest from the house stands a mature London plane tree (Platanus x acerfolia). Near the tree are a couple Eames knock-off chairs. More seating and containers with a Japanese maple and seasonal planting are installed nearer the front of the rectangle. Two huge mirrors were installed along the back wall of the garden behind the London plane tree thereby creating the illusion of a deeper space. It is a shady garden until he leaves of the plane tree begin to fall. The tall bamboo create a dark canopy which contrasts nicely with the gravel.

The lower area is concreted and bordered by raised beds of moss and ferns. Emerging among the clumps of moss are strapped vines of Boston ivy and climbing hydrangeas which cover the walls on east and west sides. A rectangular cast iron dining table with a glass top sits on the west side and on the right side are containers with seasonal plantings. The steps connecting the two levels sit on the east side and on the landing (which is a small middle level) stand two large containers housing a Japanese maple and a dogwood.

It is a simple and very organized space with a serene and almost zen-like atmosphere. Birds love it and they call to each other in the surrounding yards all day long. I do seasonal container planing but the bulk of my work in this garden is almost janitorial. I remove leaves from the gravel, the mulch-covered bamboo and moss beds and the concrete. I prune and cut back where necessary but much of my time is spent on my knees stretching to collect fallen leaves between the tall bamboo canes, raking and picking leaves from the gravel. It is very repetitive and often tedious work. At the beginning of summer I began to think of this garden as my thinking garden. It was the place where I found that my mind wandered off in all directions and each chore became so automatic that I sometimes had to force myself to think about where I was and what I was doing. My introduction to the garden coincided with a break-up that was particularly horrendous, on the heels of a long tumultuous relationship. The transition into my new life was emotionally difficult. During those moments on my knees, picking fallen bamboo leaves and later plane tree leaves, my thoughts would provide both solace and torture, sometimes for hours on end.

At another garden just a few blocks away, I met Harry who is a retired documentary film producer. I talked with Harry about my never-ending revolving thoughts and he said "You are and artist, make art out of everything you do while gardening. Bring your mind back to every action and make it art". I likened Harry's words to those of past yoga instructors who say when your mind wanders off bring it back to the body and breath, focus on the breathing.

Is there a better environment more suited to the practice of yoga than a beautiful outdoor space with birds singing?

My new goal while gardening is to exercise a balance of breathing, stretching and seeing with more deliberation, focus and intent. Each time I reach between the bamboo canes I remember to switch sides so I 'm not always supporting my upper body on just one arm and shoulder. While kneeling on my garden mat I take turns extending each leg alternately with the reach of the opposite arm, lengthening my spine while stretching the surrounding muscles on either sides of my tail bones and lower back. When both knees are together I practice versions of cat/cow poses with slow, deep breathing. My breaths may never coincide with the pace of my hand movements (after all, I am being paid to work and I move at a fast to moderate pace) but I become more aware of my breath and focus my thoughts to control it as I harvest leaves and rake the gravel.

I am also learning to live in the moment, becoming more aware of seeing what I am looking at. A small pile of leaves can become an abstraction of mid-veins, curled edges and shadows. The stems of the Boston ivy and climbing hydrangeas turn yellow and fall in crisscrossing patterns all over the dark, speckled mulch. The yellowing leaves of the ornamental cabbages have dramatic lavender and burgundy vein coloring that would look great on a silk scarf. I observe each curled maple leaf as I pick it off the the spongy chartreuse clumps of moss and I can cite the differences between the leaves of Platanus acerfolia and Acer saccharum. I am also learning to distinguish between the various bird calls. Chickadees and robins are the ones I hear most often.

There is little opportunity for downward dog, warrior pose, tree pose or many of the asanas one would usually associate with a yoga practice. While I may never relax in savasana or clasp my hands giving thanks to the universe for the time and will to do movements that are good for my body, I always leave the garden with a great sense of accomplishment. The concreted area is always spotless, the gravel is an unbroken sea of gray and the lines created by the tables and chairs are all parallel or perpendicular. Lately when I leave the garden I am mindful and grateful for the opportunity to combine my work with the time I've been given to heal, strengthen by body, nourish my spirit and grow. Namaste.

Happy Fall

Alas, summer is over although today was extremely hot. I do welcome the cooler weather since I spend most of my time outdoors. Attached are images of my work at the Washington Garden on West 148 Street this summer. Enjoy!

Garden Firsts

Today is one of many firsts for me. I planted my first Tropaeolum majus (nasturtium or Indian cress) seeds in the garden near my home on West 148 Street. A week ago I had haphazardly scattered the same seeds in the soil without heeding the instructions that the seeds should be nicked with a knife or file or soaked overnight before sowing. Almost as quickly as they fell on the soil I realized my error and spent considerable time collecting the speckled, almost -pea-sized seeds. Today however, I was less hasty. I carefully rubbed each seed on the coarse side of a pedicure file and managed to soak them for four hours. I loosened the soil and added some humus potting mix before placing each seed eight inches apart in rows of three. I then lightly covered the seeds with more potting mix and watered the soil. Like any good parent, I now wait anxiously for signs that the seeds are sprouting. I planted two types of nasturtiums, one with mixed flowers of pale yellow, gold, orange, vermilion and deep red on stems due to grow up to six feet. The other patch should have deep red flowers on short blue-green mounds of leaves.

I love nasturtiums. They are handsome and cheerful plants and the edible flowers are spicy and full of flavor. Who wouldn't want to grow beautiful blossoms that one can simply pluck and have a tasty snack while gardening. I think I also like nasturtiums because they remind me of water lilies.

I grew up in a little town on the tropical island of Trinidad. At age eleven until I was nineteen I traveled twenty-six miles each way to and from high school. The roads were bumpy and winding and the trip usually lasted 2 hours or more. For the first two years I traveled with the Sookram family who lived across from our house. Three of the four girls attended the same high school in San Fernando and I was privileged to join them, sitting in the back seat and being nudged from side to side each time I fell asleep and my head brushed the girls' shoulder.When the youngest Sookram graduated I took the bus. It was usually very crowded and I almost always stood on the bus for the entire trip. I remember my surprise one morning at sighting a patch of bright pink in a grassy area about fifty feet from the main road, five or six miles from my house. Every morning after that I was sure to stand facing the right side of the bus so I could catch a glimpse of whatever created the splash of color. Over time I discovered that the pink were the flowers of large water lilies that opened each morning and closed each evening, showing only the slightest bit of color through their protective sepals as I approached my home. I cherished the existence of these lilies for many years, if only for fleeting second at a time. On my last trip to Trinidad over a year ago, I was saddened to find that a building was being constructed on the site.

There began by fascination with water plants including lotus, water jasmines, papyrus, horsetails, grasses, bamboo and all types of plants that thrive in and around water. I'm also partial to plants with leaves that hold water well and are exceptionally striking when wet like those of the Colocasia (elephant-ears) family and Alchemilla mollis.

Another first: I planted a purple Clematis 'H.F. Young' and hollyhocks, Alcea rugosa. I do not know why I hesitated about planting Clematis before this year. Clematis is a vine so a trellis must be provided unless they are planted near a fence or some supportive structure. Today I simply made a rough tepee out of three five-foot pieces of bamboo that were used to stake the tall white dahlia that grew to tremendous heights last summer. (Alas those dahlia tubers, along with all my tuberous begonia and caladium tubers perished for lack of proper storage during the winter). This Purple beauty will leave spiral seed-heads after the blossoms are spent that will be very interesting throughout the fall. The bamboo structure may also look interesting when the garden is much barer in winter.

Yet another first: I planted poppies (Papaver). OK, today was not really my first time planting poppies but it was the first time planting poppies this year. How is that? Last year I planted some opium poppies seeds from the garden of my good friend and renowned gardener, Jeffery Farrell. Unfortunately, the garden maintenance crew believe in mulching to avoid weeding and covered up all my seedlings. Poppies do not like to be transplanted or disturbed. I managed to coax one sickly plant to flower and it produced about five papery thin pink blossoms, three of which were plucked, seed-head and all, by one of the many co-inhabitants of this structure called the Washington or any on the myriad of neighbors who have access to the garden. Today I carefully planted the rescued poppy seeds and many seeds of Papaver oriental, all red, orange, white and pink. I also planted Zinnia seeds. Last year I planted orange zinnia plants that were already in flower. The seeds will produce similar single petaled flowers in a range of red and orange.

These seeds and roots are new additions to the longer of two very long beds I plant and maintain at the gated garden attached to the building in which I live. I am privileged to have this place to experiment with shrubs, perennials, bulbs, tubers and annuals while creating an oasis for birds, butterflies and bees. Last year I spotted a cardinal here. This year I hope to attract hummingbirds and a host of butterflies. My son, Julian, was delighted to see butterflies on the Scilla siberica today. Unfortunately, he is afraid of bees. Oh well... My older boy, Orion, rarely notices or comments on changes in the garden. He is content to ride his bike or skateboard and goof around with his brother.

Growing plants from seed is new to me. Of course we've all done some bean or seed planting as part of a science class at some time or the other. Many of us may have even planted sunflower seeds that sprouted into towering plants but until now I have always been too impatient to consider the task seriously. I've always wanted to cover any bare patches of soil in a garden bed with an instantly showy, mostly temporary fix, like annuals. Last year I planted hordes of Salvia splendens, Senecio cineraria, Zinnia elegans, Nicotiana alata and Lantana camara for instant cover and show. Growing from seed requires patience, organization and coordination of various flowering plants to work with plants from seed at the various stages of their growth. It also requires some knowledge of early weed identification to distinguish your new seedlings from the many garden crashers. I anticipate my tiny poppy and zinnia seeds will develop into masses of foliage at the same time the leaves of narcissus and tulips begin to look ragged. Also, my (shorter) nasturtiums will grow into much fuller plants (because they were started from seed in their final home) than any container-bought plants and hide the leaves of the grape hyacinths at the front of the border. Later this week I will tackle starting Ricinus communis (castor bean) plants from seed. I also plan on starting from seed two types of tomatoes (cherry and plum) and Verbena bonariensis. These will begin their lives in seed-starting cells on my window sill before relocating to the garden.

I'm very excited about planting from seed. Can you tell? If this venture proves successful I may save much money and have many more plants that if I were to buy plants in pots like I did last spring and summer. I may even have enough to share. Keep your fingers crossed and let's wait and see how my seeds grow.