Clatter Valley

Mars or Bust!

2010-11-01T14:50:00.000-04:00

Yo, yo, yo people! We are going to Mars! Yes, we are leaving this tired old, used-up hulk of a planet to the trash heap. Soon enough global warming will bake this ball of space dust into a shriveled-up cinder incapable of supporting even a cockroach. Time to get out of town!

Yes, NASA is working on plans to develop a one-way manned mission to the great beyond. OK, no jokes about who you might like to reserve a seat for, because this is some serious stuff. NASA and DARPA (the Pentagon's Defense Advanced Research Project Agency) have embarked on a mission to build a Hundred Year Starship, a vessel intended to voyage to distant stars and drop off passengers, permanently, along the way. First stop? Maybe Mars.

"Reluctant Astronaut" Universal City Studios photo

Hard to say just how serious they are about the plan. So far the two mega agencies have coughed up $1.1 million in start-up fiunds, an amount dwarfed, no doubt, the by the Pentagon's budget for donuts. Still, those in the know say they might be blasting off the first ship in as soon as 20 years. Since we've let the home planet go to pieces, the plan is to get to Mars, carve out a foothold, then terraform the place and start all over again. (Note to self: This is why those fat-cat, greed-monger CEOs and banking execs need to make obscene amounts of cash and don't care about trashing the planet and its people in the process--They're saving up for tickets!)

Here are a couple quotes from a Popsci story about the effort. (Illo above is "Atomic Avenue #1" by Glen Orbik. Hat Tip: DRB)

“The human space program is now really aimed at settling other worlds,” Worden said, according to a Singularity University blog that covered the event.

Incidentally, thats exactly the proposal in a new paper in press in the Journal of Cosmology, a relatively new, peer-reviewed open access journal. Dirk Schulze-Makuch and Paul Davies suggest sending astronauts to Mars with the intention of staying for the rest of their lives, as trailblazers for a permanent Mars colony.

They would get periodic supply missions, but they would be expected to fend for themselves for water, shelter, nutrients and mineral/chemical processing. They would be expected to develop some kind of homegrown Martian industry, which could ultimately serve as a hub for an expanded colonization program. Plus, leaving some people on another planet would probably ensure that we’d want to go back, to visit them and see what they created.

Thinking about enlisting? Sign up for a tour to see future real estate hotspots such as the Tharsis Volcanic Region or the Utopian Plains. If you like what you see, become a Martian citizen

On Mars, new settlers can revive the great traditions of our earthly past. They can slaughter the hapless natives (as in the Donald Newton illustration above), raze the landscape, build soaring cities (like the one envisioned by Frank Paul), and get busy extracting and plunder anything and everything of possible value--like maybe whatever shimmering blue liquid lies lakelike in the crater below (in a scene actually photographed by NASA on the red planet). Then after another couple years, they'll have to head off for the next stop.

Sorry to rain on this particular parade, er, launch, but a change of address isn't going to solve our problems. No, relocating humanity, even seeding it throughout the universe, is not the answer. We don't need to change our location, we need to change our values. We have to try to live in harmony with--rather than in domination of--the place we call home. Our species managed just that for tens of thousands of years, until fairly recently. How hard can it be?

Fab Foliage Friday

2010-10-29T23:58:00.001-04:00

Today's fab foliage is not a plant, it's an idea. The idea that you don't need anything but leaves to make a compelling garden vignette, This big leaf bonanaza comes from the ever-amazing Longwood Gardens, from a spot deep inside the coils of its vast conservatory. Don't know whether this particular chlorophyll-filled chamber has an official name; to me it is always the Hall of Steroidal House Plants. Whatever you want to call it, the plants speak for themselves. Eloquently.

Me @ BBG

2010-10-28T17:46:00.001-04:00

I'll be doing my PowerPoint presentation on The Crazy Mixed-Up Border at the Berkshire Botanical Garden in Stockbridge, MA next Saturday, Nov 6. I've taught and lectured there in the past and always love returning to stroll the inspiring grounds. My talk starts at 10 am-for more info or to purchase tickets, go here.

Gardyn Music

2010-10-28T11:50:00.004-04:00

There's probably no one out there who hasn't already seen this video by the Australian sound artist Pogo (aka Nick Bertke)...but what the heck! I find each viewing more compelling than the last, so I keep watching it. The flow of time in this video seems frozen yet fluid; I consider that feeling of loopy suspension to be a big part of the magic. This is a work of sonic genius (the visuals are pretty good too), a notion affirmed by the video's selection as as one of the 25 most innovative, unique and groundbreaking video works of the past two years, as determined by the YouTube Play jury. This video, along with the other jury picks, was recently celebrated at the Guggenheim Museums in New York, Bilbao, Berlin and Venice.

Wordless Wednesday 10.27.10

2010-10-27T08:28:00.000-04:00

Photographed @ Longwood Gardens

The New Amazonians

2010-10-26T14:47:00.002-04:00

I don't intend to chronicle the discovery of every new species, but they are always worth noting. In an era with more than 25,000 annual extinctions, it seems as if we're hurtling toward another mass die-off, an evolutionary gateway that has swung shut--killing off 50-90% of the species calling earth home-at least five times in our planet's past. The last mass extinction, the Triassic-Jurassic die-off 65 million years ago, killed off the dinosaurs and made possible the rise of mammals. Some scientists believe global warming, with an assist from other human-driven catastrophes--pollution, land clearing and overfishing--could lead to another mass extinction as early as 2100.

So when a new species is discovered, it's as if there is a new star in the sky, a new reason for hope. It suggests we are not killing things off faster than we can discover them. I hope. Anyways, the latest discoveries come from the imperiled Amazon basin, the vast, green lungs of our planet, which are being ravaged by settlers, loggers and miners for short term gain. World Wildlife Fund researchers and others have discovered 1200 new species--a rate of one every three days during the last decade, a feat detailed in Amazon Alive..

Among them are the electric-looking fish at top, Apistogramma baenschi (photo by Kris Weinhold), one of 257 species discoved in the mother of rivers and its tributaries. How about the stylish spider with the pink slippers, Avicularia braunshauseni, a tarantula with a sharpshooting talent for blasting pesky intruders with perfectly aimed jet of excrement--accurate to 3 feet (photo by Karl Csaba). Then there's the Rio Acari marmoset (lensed by Georges Neron) and the last of this little sampler, a boon for all you flower lovers, is this handsome bromeliaceous Bromelia araujoi photographed by E. Esteves Pereira. Long may they shine!

Making an Impression

2010-10-24T15:20:00.000-04:00

My efforts at garden making, diverse though they may be, tend to rely largely on contrasting the shapes and textures of foliage. Flowers too (and how about those way cool dahlias and Lantana trfolia-a plant I am so hunting for next year.) And since, when it comes to gardening, I'm one of those more-is-better guys, I like dramatic juxtapositions of plants with wildly differing attributes. But on a recent whirl of garden visiting I had to admire an approach almost opposite to mine, an approach that often groups plants by their similarites rather than their differences, an approach that I find ethereal, airy--almost to the point of spectral, and oh-so appealing. Perhaps its allure lies in the likelihood that this is an effect I rarely strive for--with any measure of success--in my own gardens, because the truth is that I have utterly no idea how to go about achieving it, so...I'll just appreciate this vaguely impressionistic effect that to me uderscores a garden's fragility and its transitory beauty.

Take the opening image of Nicotiana mutablis, its pinky white flowers creating a starry firmament above the clouds provided by Euphorbia characias 'Glacier Blue' and Agastache 'Acapulco Salmon and Pink.' The scene looks fragile, almost ghostly, as if it might disappear in a gust of wind. But this vignette at the Ladies' Border at the New York Botanical Garden exhibits real staying power, it will provide that punch for weeks if not months. It's all about the massing of tiny details.

Likewise. on the other side of the NYBG conservatory, I happened upon the Seasonal Walk, this year a Dutch treat courtesy of uber-designers Piet Oudolf and Jacqueline Van der Kloet. Oudolf is known for the creation of evolving, seasoanlly rich plantscapes--many of whicxh are built upon the very frilly, linear shapes which so baffle me whenever I try to group them into combination. But there's no denying the windblown beauty of their creation, and the sheer eye-popping pizzaz of those dahlias nodding amid the plumes of grasses.

Farther afield, at Chanticleer, a similar scene revealed itself. And though horrid lighting prevented capturing a good representation of the tableau, there's no denying the effective use of lots and lots of linear shapes. The grasses, the yucca (is that a rostrata?), and the rest gathered in festive celebration of the airy line. That it works, no doubt. How the conceptual process that pulled it all together evolved, no clue.

Finally, this Chanticleer reverie really got me motivated to try some of these more impressionistic approaches to garden making. Foliage is doing nothing for this flowery fantasia, but the ethereal beauty of these colorful clouds-in primary hues of red, yellow and blue--make this something worth striving toward. And so I shall work next season, once again, to make my own scene that is more gauzy than gaudy, one that relies on likenesses rather than differences, one that is subtle, not shocking. Maybe I'll get lucky.

Fab Foliage Friday

2010-10-22T09:14:00.005-04:00

Clatter Valley may have a tropical flavor-at least for part of the year--but as yet there's very little in the way of that most iconic of tropical plants, the palm tree. Now and then I'll pick up something sold as a houseplant at Lowe's Depot and plunk that in the garden for a palm effect, but I never took them too seriously until I happened on a specimen of silver Mediterranean fan palm (Chamaerops humilis var, cerifera). Wowza! What a foliage plant. A symmetrical dome of fan-shaped silver foliage -each leaf comprised of long splintery, slivers of silver--crowns a knobbly , primeval looking trunk. Those glorious leaves, which glimmer like moonlight, are perched atop long stems lined with hooklike thorns which look like a raptor's claws.

It's a plant brimming with beautiful details: the blades of the rounded, fanlike leaves, the thorns, the knobby trunk, the silvery hue, the overall silhouette--this thing's a keeper. And this native of Morocco's Atlas Mountains is among the hardiest of the already hardy (relatively speaking) fan palm clan. It grows a mile up in those semi arid mountains, where the weather is often cold enough to provide the palm a dusting of snow. Which means I can leave it out in its pot at least until Thanksgiving. And since it is so slow growing, this plant is a great candidate for containers. All it needs is plenty of sun (though color isn't bad even in part shade) and excellent drainage. Once it grows too cold outside here, my silver Mediterranean fan palm will come indoors for the winter to live as a houseplant. It's definitely worth the effort-this one's a keeper.

Wordless Wednesday 10.20.10

2010-10-20T08:57:00.000-04:00

Photographed @ Chanticleer

Fall Finale at NYBG

2010-10-18T09:00:00.003-04:00

With the garden season winding down to winter, I made a trip to the New York Botanic Garden to get a look at their last hurrah in the Irwin Perenial Garden. It's always a great show, from the large scale of the inviting entryway, to the smallest detail.

As always, I was on the lookout for sizzling combos created by juxtaposing bold, broad-leafed thingies against more delicate, airy companions. like, for example, the bigger-than-a-bathmat leaves of this banana rising from a surround of Russian sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia) , coleus, assorted dahlias and more.

Color ruled the day in this similarly scaled community of canna, accented by an orange swoon of cigar plant (Cuphea 'David Verity'), with its emberlike tube-shaped flowers all aglow in the overcast. Further firing up the scene were the bigger blooms of a few orange dahlias, smoldering like floating campfires. I know, I know...not everyone likes orange. But I do! Unapologetically. It's more accommodating than red, not as strident as yellow. I find it to be at once both fiery hot and pleasingly mellow.

Back to bold, how about these cool elephant ears (Colocasia esculenta 'Tea Cup'), floating above the filmy firmament of thread leaf bluestar (Amsonia hubrichtii) without benefit of saucers? Oh, and a few red zingers, courtesy of Dahlia royalty 'Bishop of Landaff', make the display ever so much more pleasing.

More thread leaf bluestar never hurts this time of year. While many may plant this standout for the galaxies of starry blue flowers that cover it in late spring, I find it far more valuable in fall, when its fine foliage turns a shimmering gold.

Speaking of gold, if there's a plant that's worth its weight in that precious substance, I'd have to say it's gold Japanese forest grass (Hakonechloa macra 'Aureola'), or any of the similar cultivars that bring so much bling to whatever setting they are placed in. Not only is there that gloooooooooorious color (typo, and it stays), there's the plant's ever-so-appealing lax habit, likened by so many to a waterfall. Long may it flow!

One of the most valuable yet simple garden design techniques is repetition. Repetition. You can never go wrong by adding more than one of a kind, and it gets even better when they are spaced out at roughly equal intervals, or if you're more eclectic kind of gardener, at irregular intervals. My feeling is that regular intervals are best because they bring an element of structural formality to a planting, and the more structure you've got, the freer you are to make merry with the rest of the plants. So, ironically, the rigor of regular repeats are ultimately a liberating force. And speaking of repetition, I'm going to have to get back to this garden soon.

Fab Foliage Friday

2010-10-15T12:12:00.006-04:00

Furcraea are freakin' fantastic! I've proclamied my undying love for all things bromeliaceous or agavaceous in the past, and my ardor shows no sign of abating. Here's why: These plants have a supremely sculptural quality, for my money, one of the best shapes in the whole plant kingdom. Its sturdy, meaty leaves thrust purposefully from the ground. Like broadswords, they parry the elements, slashing at wind, and cutting through the rain. The plant's resolute nature gives it an elegant, classical quality.

As a collector of plant oddities, I am always on the lookout for plants that are like little works of art, and consider my garden (at least parts of it), to be a living gallery of chlorophyllic, sculpturous shapes and textures-furcraeas fit right in. They also appeal because they are spineless-which is not to say they have no presence--on the contrary! What they don't have are spines, or, colloquially, prickers, stickers, thorns or whatever you want to call the lethal protrusions that make handling agaves a dicey proposition. Put a furcraea in a pot (or better yet, an urn), put the pot anywhere there's enough room, and presto-you have just improved the neighborhood. Sadly these things aren't hardy in my USDA Hardiness Zone 6 garden, but they seem content lolling away the winter in my basement, illumined by a few florescent lights. I photographed these specimens at the New York Botanic Garden, so not certain of the species or cultivar name but probably Furcraea gigantea 'Variegata'.

New Guinea's Newbies

2010-10-11T07:38:00.002-04:00

It's always good news to hear about the discovery of new species, rather than the disappearance of those already known. Happening upon unknown life forms reveals magic and mystery in the world we inhabit, and offers proof positive that one need not journey to the bottom of a deep ocean trench or distant star system to encounter terra incognita.

New Guinea continues to provide new finds for the most special of treasure hunter-those seeking life hitherto unknown to science. The latest discoveries come from the Muller mountains of Papua New Guinea and the Nakanai mountains of nearby New Britain, off New Guinea's coast.Some 200 new species of plant and animal were observed by Conservation International researchers.Their finds included the freaky looking tube nose fruit bat (previously seen but still little known, though scientists have verified that he is not related to Yoda) and the spooky pink-eyed katydid (both photographed by Piotr Naskrecki). The cute tiny frog, a member of the genus Litoria, also hails from the Muller mountains and was lensed by Stephen Richards.

Discussing the new finds, Richards, the team's leader, told AP, "They tell us how little we still know about the world. There's a lot of concern, quite rightly, about biodiversity loss and climate change and the impacts on biodiversity and what biodiversity means to us. ... Then we do projects like this and we discover, 'Hey - we don't even know what biodiversity is out there.'"

Fab Foliage Friday

2010-10-08T10:13:00.000-04:00

So many coleus, so little time. As a longtime leaf lover, I'm always flying my freaky foliage flag high--which means I can always make room for a new coleus or or two--but I also reserve a spot-or five-for returning favorites. Topping the old-but-good list of late is 'Sky Fire' a boldly hued coleus that grows to about 18 inches wide and high. Its deep, dark burgundy, shimmering chartreuse and yippie-yai-yay yellows make it invaluable in the hot color combinations on which I thrive.

As you might guess from their square stems, this genus (Solenostemon) is a member of the mint family; as you might not guess, they were first found on the Indonesian isle of Java, but have since been hybridized with countless near relatives to create the rich assortment of lovely leaves we know today. These dedicated garden workhorses serve as star players in pots, in the ground and just about anywhere you can put something with roots Contrary to popular opinion, they thrive in full sun, which gives the leaves their most vibrant coloration. Next year, as usual, I'll have many more, but one thing is certain-'Sky Fire' will be back, blazing away in the garden.

Bee Happy!

2010-10-07T08:05:00.001-04:00

Melting ice caps, dying coral reefs, droughts, heat waves, famine--amid the tidal wave of environmental disaster, today gives us a reason to be thankful. Researchers have discovered the cause of Colony Collapse Disorder, the mysterious affliction that is decimating North America's honeybees and thus threatening production of almost every fruit and vegetable we eat. No cure yet, but understanding the cause is step one, Read all about it in the NYT.

Mindo Lindo

2010-10-06T11:12:00.003-04:00

Our ongoing search for magical places that fuse our passions for amazing landscapes, abundant plant life and exotic birds led us to Mindo, Ecuador, a tiny town clinging to the cloud-forested western slopes of the Andes. This teeny little place, not much more than a wide spot in the dirt road, was worth every bit of effort it took to get us there. Even the fruit stands were a work of art.

Mindo is all about the river, which thunders down from the mountains to bisect this lush forested valley. The river, with its water-polished stones, and at its side the sleepy, lost-to-the-world ambiance of Mindo itself, made me think of the town as a real-life Macondo, the mythical, mystical village at the center of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's masterpiece "One Hundred Years of Solitude."

There are few bridges in this part of the world so to cross the flow, we had to hop aboard a tarabita--a sort of hand-hauled cable car with seating for one-to reach our absurdly oversized cabin. Birdboy loved this kind of commute. I did too.

The river's soothing voice was the constant soundtrack as we hiked local dirt roads and muddy paths, on the lookout for plants (about which more in a future post), birds and other exotica-like giant spiders dangling from huge webs. One night we went hiking in the pitch-black jungle to see nocturnal life-a panoply of even stranger insects and such than we'd seen during the day.

Wherever we walked, outageously oversized tropical foliage was everywhere. It was so tactile, begging to be touched. And it came in handy as umbrellas for the Artiste and Birdboy, and, in the case of this dried out cecropia leaf, a hat.

Our favorite outing took us along a an amazing dirt road (torturous for anyone, like me, with a fear of heights) clinging to the spine of a mountain range just east of Mindo.

We bumped along for a couple hours befiore dismounting and plunging into steep and deep jungle, where our most excellent guide Fernando led us to a research station in the middle of absolutely nowhere. There we had a tasty surpise-a breakfast of all kinds of fruits, eggs, bread and hot black coffee (all very welcome, since we'd set out well before dawn). We followed paths through valleys darkened by layer after layer after layer of vegetation. Butterflies flitted about, and birdcall--more than 350 species can be found hereabouts--provided a musical soundtrack. Finally we emerged at this spectacular waterfall.

The sheer height of the waterfall, coupled with the massive leaves of the elephant ear in the foreground seemed to complete the notion that we were some kind of Gullivers, adrift in Brobdingnag, where EVERYTHING is bigger than real life. In the end, I had just one question about Mindo: When can we go back?

Instead of Chopping a Tree Down, Chop One Up

2010-10-05T11:58:00.000-04:00

If only it was this easy...

Maya Lin - Unchopping a Tree from What is Missing? Foundation on Vimeo.

Fab Foliage Friday

2010-10-01T16:57:00.000-04:00

I know I've crowed about elephant ears before, but this is a new one! Colocasia esculenta 'Elena' is a winner, with nicely ruffled chartreuse ears providing snappy contrast for the purplish veins that run through them. This appears to be one of those easy-to-please, foolproof plants that look good just about anywhere. As yet, I haven't tried it everywhere, just among these coleus, cordylines, canna and cacti, so I know for certain it works well with any plants beginning with the letter "C." Next year, I'm going to be trying some "D" plants. That would be a lot easier if I lived further south-the Plant Delights write-up says this baby is hardy clear to Zone 7b, at least. Here in Zone 6, I'm going to try overwinter this in my cool dark basement.

In the Galapagos: Change We Can Believe In

2010-09-30T09:11:00.000-04:00

Just about everybody knows the strange Pacific Ocean islands of the Galapagos were the jumping off point for Charles Darwin's theory of evolution.Those isolated bits of land seemingly adrift in the vastness of the Pacific offer a glimspe into the crucible of life and, literally, a textbook study of the concept of natural selection. The island birds, esp the finches (such as this cactus finch on Genovesa, aka Tower Island) and the mockingbirds, have evolved distinct species on different islands.

So, when we think of evolution, we tend to think of the animal kingdom, but the Galapagos also reveal a slower kind of evolution, the gradual transformation of barren volcanic rock to rich rainforest. Look how it all starts in these islands, which, like Hawaii, are the result of a hotspot, a leaky hole in the Earth's crust far below the surface of the sea. Lava oozes out of the hole and over the millennia forms massive mountains The tips gradually emerge from the sea to become islands, the Galapagos Islands.

Soon, the lava cools. Colonies of aptly named lava cactus appear. This rugged pioneer plant is one of the very first to grab a toehold on the forbidding, sun-baked lava flats. Gradually it spreads its roots into the lava, cracking it apart, and beginning the torturously long, slow process of turning stone into soil.

As eons pass, sea life washes up onto the lava shelfs to die and decompose, adding nutrients to the soil.

As the lava slowly breaks down to a sandy substance, the little, silvery whiskbrooms of tiquilia arrive.

Color arrives as soil is enriched by the decay of pioneer plants, animal matter and the like. The era of grasses dawns, along with thorny shrublets and mats of sesuvium, a succulent that turns fiery colors in the dry season. Land iguanas love to prowl through this stuff.

These amazing creatures look utterly prehistoric and exhibit amazing diversity, lumbering past in a paintbox set of hues comprised of yellows, reds, and oranges.

Trees rise. The Galapagos are parched during the dry season, when trees such as palo santo, the holy stick, drop their leaves. It leafs out and blooms around Christmas, with the return of the rains, Palo santo is related to frankincense, and its sap contains an aromatic resin burned in mainland Ecuador's churches as incense.

Along with the trees, a variety of cacti begin to reach for the sky.

Among them are various prickly pears, which here rise to exceptional heights. Their towering stature is due to another freakish characteristic of life forms that have evolved in island isolation over many thousands of years, gigantism. Think of Komodo dragons, the famed Galapagos tortoise (similarly sized tortoises can also be found in the Aldabra islands, an isolated archipelago in the Indian Ocean), or, heck, even King Kong. In the Galapagos there's a bit of a chicken-and-the-egg question that goes with gigantism--did the prickly pear get big to keep its fruits from being consumed by giant tortoises, or did tortoises grow big to reach more prickly pear fruit? Maybe it's an exotic example of symbiotic co-evolution.

Life begets life. At some point, the diversity of plant and animal species increases and, as if through some synergistic magic, increases yet again. The older islands are actually quite green and diverse, while newer bits of land are still baked lava crust supporting a paucity of species. For most of the birds for which the Galapagos are so famed, and for many of the other critters, the islands aren't much more than a place to nest and take a rest--all their food comes from the surrounding seas. At any rate some day, as here in the highlands of Santa Cruz, the islands support a rich, almost rainforest abundance of life. Thus, a new Eden is born.

Beauteous Bulbines

2010-09-29T10:12:00.010-04:00

Guess what's odd about Bulbine frutescens. It's got no bulb. Nor does it have a rhizome, corm or tuber. But aside from its ill-chosen name, there's plenty to like about this stellar South African native known to locals as snake flower, cat's tail, or burn jelly plant (yes, it has some medicinal value). Bulbine is actually a succulent, but I know few that flower as freely as this one. I grow bulbine in a pot, where its hummock of rather finely textured grassy foliage looks tidy and well mannered early on. Later in the season, narrow wands rise skyward to erupt with a clown hat of tightly nestled buds which, soon enough, yield delicate orange flowers. When a plant produces 10-15 or more spires at a time, the effect is glorious. There's one drawback: the whole thing is kind of dinky, with the wands reaching, on a good day, maybe 18-24 inches and each flower smaller than a thumbnail. But pretty! And so wonderfully complex. Carefee as any succulent, and easy to overwinter indoors in cool temps and bright light.

Man-Eating Plants!!!

2010-09-28T09:01:00.002-04:00

OK, have I got your attention? Good. Now take your mouse, tickle it, and head straight over to Dark Roasted Blend for a superlative photo collection of carnivorous plants in all their resplendent glory. These pix are just great, and the whole carnivorous clan is represented, from pitcher plants to sundews and venus flytraps. The only one missing and--come to think of it--the only actual man-eater is Audrey, the vexing vegetation from the Little Shop of Horrors. Though none of these are hungry for Homo sapiens, some are big enough to eat a rat. Yum!

Dog Soup

2010-09-28T08:45:00.000-04:00

No, it's not what you're thinking. Dog soup is actually a description of the coyote genome (that of the Eastern coyote anyway), which, as it turns out, contains bits of wolf and dog DNA, and so is a melange of critters in the genus Canis. That's just part of what you'll learn in a fascinating story about the canny coyote in the New York Times. Turns out these guys are a lot smarter than you might think. Some even team up with other species in ongoing partnerships to hunt more effectively. And, news to me, they are not crazy. Some times the woods around us echo with their spooky, cackling giggle, and it sounds as if the inmates have escaped the asylum.

Color It Wild

2010-09-27T08:45:00.018-04:00

I'm an equal opportunity garden enthusiast, but I get a touch zealous about what I call handmade gardens-those designed, planted and maintained by the homeowner(s). Handmade gardens are the most personality rich and idiosyncratic of gardens, reflecting, as they do, the undiluted vision of their makers. These are gardens without compromise. And one of my favorite handmade gardens hereabouts is the creation of Les and Monique Anthony, whose Wallingford, CT garden was on tour yesterday as part of the Connecticut Horticultural Society Open Gardens series.

Why do I like it? Well, here's one reason: Les (who's a dab hand with a can of spraypaint) and Monique share a vibrant, playful sense of color. It's apparent in their plantings, which are exceptionally rich in colorful foliage but also in their "stuff," their ornaments, doodads, thingamajiggies, and what not. The chairs, the pots, the tables, on and on it goes. Even something as simple as a metal orb is rethought by virtue of several wildly varied shades of spray paint. I never tire of looking at it. And we'll be back, to see what Les and Monique do with foliage.

Highway in the Sky :

2010-09-26T08:57:00.000-04:00

Next time you look up, think about this:

Hat tip: Boingboing and NPR

Fab Foliage Friday!

2010-09-24T08:46:00.003-04:00

This gloriously gleaming bit of garden bling brightens any landscape all year round. It's Blue Ice Arizona cypress (Cupressus arizonica 'Blue Ice'), an easy to love, undemanding conifer that simply glows, especially when placed against a dark backdrop. Though I'm a card carrying ABG (anything but green) gardener besotted with colorful foliage, I do, sadly, have a paucity of the silver spectrum represented in my foliar follies. Silver and burgundy leafy combos satisfy, but I'm really smitten with chartreuse, and, to my eyes, silver and charteuse should not even be in the same zip code together. So I have to place my silvers with care. And restraint. This was one of the few plants that really thrived during our baking, rain-free summer and though it's often rated hardy to just USDA Hardiness Zone 7, I've been growing it here in 6 for several years.

Pergolas, and Fine Gardening's Photo Blitz

2010-09-23T09:44:00.011-04:00

I worked several years as the managing editor at Fine Gardening magazine, and for many more as a contributing editor, so I wasn't too surprised to get a call from the most-excellently-named associate editor Brandi Spade (left), who'd run across an old photo that included part of one of my pergolas (I've since built several more). Anyway, she needed pictures to accompany a story she was developing about pergola-making, so she and newbie editor Ann Stratton arrived yesterday for a pergola photo blitz.

Below is my best-looking pergola, its entry framed by a few colorful, tropicalesque pots. Any structure adds a synergistic effect to a garden, with enduring bones that create a strong dialog with the more ephemeral plantings that surround them. And any structure looks good all year. I value pergolas, especially, because of the way they soften the transition between indoors and out. Under cover of one, you're sort of betwixt and between, not really inside, not really outside.

Best of all, the inner sanctum of a pergola is what Julie Moir Messervy refers to in her superlative book "The Inward Garden" as an archetypal space, a place that resonates with the magic and mystery of the settings we loved as children exploring our new world. I used to love making forts under the forsythia bushes, so it's probably no accident that a plant-draped, sheltering kind of space is still deeply satisfying to me. I don't know whether Julie would call this a "cave" or a "harbor", or even an "island" (for its feeling of separation from the rest of the world), but what matters is that the cover of the pergola provides me a meaningful retreat.

Because I like pergolas, and the feeling they give me-by inviting me, from the outside, or the sense of security and embrace they provide from within--I've got a few. My veggie garden, though worn out by now, still looks inviting thanks to the pergola attached to my garden shed. Those morning glories-'Heavenly Blue', what else-provide a pleasing echo to the shed's blue hues. By the way, if there is any way to get a truer, long lasting blue into the garden, or anything better than this plant-and-forget-about-it morning glory, please let me know.

Finally, there's my entry way pergola, last to be built, but not least. Slowly but surely it is being covered by climbing hygdrangea, but in the meantime, it frames our doorway and the garden entry. And eases the in/out transition. Like the others, it is of very simple contstruction. I contemplated making it fancy with lots of layers and ornamental cuts, but in the end decided I wanted to stick with the architectural vernacular of the house. Its staunchly colonial, salt-box style would be compromised by anything else. Far as I 'm concenred, the only rule worth having for pergolas is this one: Make your plans, then use wood one size up-6x6 uprights instead of 4x4, 2x8 rafters instead of 2x6, etc. As with so many things in the garden, bigger is almost always better.

Soaking It Up

2010-09-21T08:27:00.013-04:00

Our trip to Ecuador included a visit to Termas de Papallacta, a hot springs high in the Andes. We never did get a glimpse of glacier draped Antisana, a huge mountain that towers over all, but during a couple days in a cabana , we spent plenty of time soaking. The place has more than 20 pools--all different temperatures--and many are artfully configured with stone edgings and mosaics. The Artiste once spent all night soaking, gazing up at a spectacular skyscape. and Birdboy was in the water every chance he got.

As for me, I had to spend some time admiring the plant life, which was celebrated in surrounding gardens with swaths of echeverrias, calla lillies, fucshia, Brugmansia sanguinea, and so many others, most, sadly, unknown to me.

Decades ago, I passed through Papallacta while I was on a 6-month hitchhiking trip through Latin America. As it happens, I got there by bus, a battered, smoke-belching vehicle crawling up out of the sweltering Amazon basin from the jungle town of Misahualli. Of course the bus was full, and I was riding on the rooftop luggage rack (the better for awesome views of the Andes). When I got to Papallacta, dusty and dry (me, not the village), those hotsprings--then totally undeveloped--were mighty inviting. So, it was nice to discover, even having been gentrified (or what passes for same in a remote hamlet), they are still an enticing spot for serious R&R.

There's a Nekkid Lady Out There

2010-09-20T08:09:00.007-04:00

The Artiste hosted a painting party this weekend. About ten of her pals gathered in the back garden and spent the day painting and sketching a model they'd hired. Their rapt attention was amazing, and everyone was in such a deep state of creativity that they hardly spoke. You could just feel a wave of energy emanating from their collective easel. Once it got toward late afternoon, paintbrushs were exchanged for wine and mojitos--did I ever tell you I make the BEST mojitos?--and a little review and criticism of each other's work. Here's a sampler of the results:

After work , it was time for play.

So, we retired to the knoll, for a torch-lit, potluck dinner and the warmth of Birdboy's fire.

Unearthing My Recent Past

2010-09-17T11:24:00.018-04:00

OK, so I've been MFB (missing from blogosphere) for almost a year now. Some sort of explanation might be in order, but it's a long story. Anyhoo, here's some of what I've been up to lately.
Remember this part of the garden? It looks presentable here, but I've never beeen satisfied with it--despite many iterations and years of evolution. A good solution always escaped me.

So we regrouped and called in the earthmover, who came in February to dig the whole place up. incuding the big frozen rootballs of any plants worth saving. This guy was a master at maneuvering his tiny digger and managed to scrape out enough space for a foundation without causing major havoc in the rest of the garden, and soon enough we had Clatter Valley's newest feature: a sunroom.

Lots is going on in there that will be the subject of future posts. I'm growing exotic vines planted in the ground (the floor is gravel, atop richly amended soil), carnivorous plants, a green wall and, of course, it will soon provide winter quarters for some of my favorite tropicals.

Our hope is that this will become our home away from home come winter, where we can dine amid the feel of a tropical splendor. The artiste's sole stipulation is that we have room for a dining table and chairs. otherwise I can run amok in there--and I plan to do just that. Birdboy let loose some anoles (gecko-like lizards) and for a while a finch and parrot were in free-flying residence. Alas, the critters have already escaped to either their reward (the birds) or the great outdoors (the anoles).

Over this sweltering summer, I wrassled 5 tons of stone to create terraces and raised beds that frame our new addition. The place is already starting to settle into the garden at large. Here's a look at some of the pots on the new terrace just outside the sunroom

Dude, Where's My Tornado?

2010-09-17T11:15:00.006-04:00

Wish we got some of this rain. Could do without the wind though.

Back From the Equator

2009-10-21T10:31:00.010-04:00

We've just returned from a few weeks south of, or more precisly, along, the Equator. We were in Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands, and it was a trip full of energizing ideas, incredible sights and a feeling of what the the earth might have been like had humans never trod upon it. The Galapagos are an amazing destination about which I can offer only one word of suggestion: GO!

While our trip is likely to generate a number of future posts, I still need to intellectually digest All the stimuli it provided. In the meantime, please enjoy this gallery of faces-such as the blue-footed booby above-from the Galapagos Islands, latitude zero.

Giant tortoise from Santa Cruz. Each island has its own variant of the tortoise. Supposedly Steven Spielberg visited the Galapagos years ago, and the tortoises provided him the inspiration for creating the face of the most famous alien of all--E.T.

Land iguana

Albatross chick

The Pause That Refreshes

2009-09-24T09:07:00.003-04:00

Oops! I realize a fair amount of time has passed since my last post. I even missed two Fab Foliage Fridays. I guess that means I'm taking a break. Circumstances (but good circumstances!)warrant a brief hiatus. So, I'm outta here. But I'll be back--and so will Fab Foliage Fridays--in a few weeks.

Meanwhile, you can take a gander at my patio, where a dismal garden season actually managed to end with flourish.

Open Garden Today

2009-09-13T06:50:00.003-04:00

Since I've spent the last several days sunk deep into the endless tasks that that precede going public with the garden, I forgot to mention something: today is Garden Conservancy Open Day, 12-4. Come if you can.

Fanged Frogs and More

2009-09-06T22:09:00.005-04:00

An international team of researchers descending a kilometer deep into the crater of Mount Bosavi, an extinct volcano in Papua New Guinea, founds all kinds hitherto unseen life: mammals, insects, birds, amphibians...fanged frogs, grunting fish and then some. It was like some biological jackpot. and it just goes to show how important it is to preserve bio-rich rainforests the world over. For more on the New Guinea crater, read this.

Fab Foliage Friday...err, Saturday

2009-09-05T09:13:00.004-04:00

I'm agape over agaves. Really, just about anything agaveaceous gets my attention. So sculptural! So shapely! So...lethal! They are one of those plants that go with anything, anywhere. I know I'm not being so specific as to nomenclature, but that's because many of my agaves have come from Home Depot, a friend or whatever and I have no clue as to their actual botanic names. I don't have to know the name of something to like it. Any agave will do, from the steely blue-gray ones to the beauteous variegated version seen here. This year I even got a way cool gold one, and though hail and slugs have battered the poor little guy, it should put on a good show next time around. So easy to grow: well drained soil, sun and...well, that's it. Overwinter in cool bright indoor space.

Travels With Delphine

2009-09-03T23:32:00.004-04:00

Let Delphine show you the way to the weird, the wonderful, the strange, the seductive...Delphine Gitterman is a tireless prospector of the garden blogosphere and her blog Paradis Express offers eye candy extraordinaire. You never know what you'll find--botanical tattoos, cool sheds, exotic artworks--but it's always worth the visit. Delphine is prolific too-there's always something new to see. What are you waiting for?

Follow The Burning Man

2009-09-03T12:23:00.002-04:00

I've always wanted to attend Burning Man, the sci-fi/art/music/tribal event held each year around this time at Black Rock City in the Nevada desert. But I never have. This year though, I've happened onthe next best thing, the Burning Blog, which offers fine coverage of all the goings on. I guess it's just about the next best thing to being there. You might also check out Burning Man.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-08-28T21:34:00.002-04:00

Shades of Audrey II! Not since "Little Shop of Horrors" has there been a plant so hungrily carnivorous as the rat-eating pitcher plant recently discovered in the Phillipines. You may recall reading about the real mutant monster in the newspaper. As it turns out, the plant, named Nepenthes attenboroughii (after the intrepid BBC naturalist), may not actually eat rodents. At least not on purpose. What does all that have to do with Fab Foliage Friday? Well as it turns out, those amazing pitchers, of the aforenamed Nepenthes and its many relations, are actually leaves. Who knew? It's fascinating...but why not let Richard Attenborough himself explain. Enjoy the hypnotic imagery.

Hat tip: Boingboing

Some Way Cool Containers

2009-08-25T09:42:00.012-04:00

I'm always on the lookout for hot new plants and stuff I haven't seen before, so I recently took a swing by Loomis Creek Nursery in Hudson, NY. It's full of good stuff, not least of which are the many pots displayed, singly and in clusters, designed by owners Bob Hyland and Andrew Beckman. So, I thought it worth posting a gallery of pix from their place (with a few more over at Gardening Gone Wild). Here goes:

Bob also collaborated with Margaret Roach to design a series of contianers plantings at the Berkshire Botanical Gardens in Stockbridge MA.

Make Your Own Monster Plant

2009-08-24T09:23:00.006-04:00

I've heard of using the plant hormone Gibberellic acid to coax reluctant seeds to germinate, but according to Evil Mad Scientist Laboratories, it can also be used to induce gigantism in plants. In other words, it can make big plants. Really big plants. Amazing. Now, if only I can use it to create a sequoia-sized Brugmansia...

Hat Tip: Boingboing

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-08-21T22:22:00.003-04:00

Ahhhh! Now I'm feeling cooler. Nothing like the sight of an umbrella pine (Sciadopitys verticillata) no matter what the time of year, to remind me of the beauty and value of dark green backgrounds, against which are highlighted colorful blooms and the shapes of other foliar delights. Umbrella pines are easily among the very finest of needled evergreens, Their needles-which look like two side-by-side needles fused together--also have a specatacular dark green sheen that looks stellar from January to December, (hough the straight species often gets a bit bronzey in the depths of winter). And finally, those fat, fleshy needles are arranged in cool-looking whorls along the branches, crowning the tip of every branch with regal splendor. Though they are reputed to be very slow growing, mine are chugging right along and often put on aabout a foot a year.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-08-14T11:04:00.006-04:00

It was a case of love at first sight soon as I laid eyes hardy tapioca (Manihot grahamii). Those wavy-edged leaves, sinuous as an Indonesian kris, or ceremonial dagger, cut me to the quick. I just had to have one. Now I do. (They aren't all that easy to find.) I'm growing it in apot this year so I can move it around as it gets ever-larger, and compare its foliar effects with those of a variety of neighbors, for cannas and elephant ears to irises and slender grasses. And you know what? It looks good with everything! But hardy? Not here. Reputedly hardy to Zone 7b. I will nonetheless try to winter this over, probably in a cool bright spot. I'm already looking forward to its presence next year.

The Whatchamacallit Science

2009-08-11T20:55:00.005-04:00

OK all you taxonomy geeks--this one's for you. As a gardener one who is forever fascinated by the sometimes changing nature of scientific names-Latin binomials--I've always been interested in the process of assigning stuff--plants, animals, insects--not only a name but the science behind it: family, genus, species, and all the rest. Kings Play Chess On Friday, Generally Speaking--if you know what I mean. Anyway, interesting story in the New York Times this morning, here.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-08-07T21:44:00.002-04:00

Golden hinoke cypress (Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Crippsii') pays the rent all year. Bedecked in glorious gold needles, it creates a beacon that shines in the garden all season long, no matter what the season. Its color is best in full sun, so this small tree is not one for brightening the shade but it does catch the eye even in the brightest of light. I especially like this scene in Raymond Hagel's Westport, Ct garden, designed by Mike Donnelly. Colorful foliage can add so much more when it plays a role in a larger, more complex color-based vignette like this one.

Meanwhile, Over At Chrissie's...

2009-08-06T15:15:00.011-04:00

Stopped by the other day at gardening juggernaut Chrissie D'Esopo's for a look at what she's been up to this season, and...wow! This hillside, top, is her latest evolving project and it's going great guns. It's been a good year for establishing new areas--with all the rain there's no need to water, and boy has this area ever been catching on as a sizzling example of her typical no-holds-barred approach to color. Of course, all the rain has meant lots of slugs, fungal diseases, and other fun stuff, but Chrissie hasn't broken stride. She's an inspiration to us mere mortal gardeners! Unlike lots of her other areas, this spot is heavier on trees and shrubs than it is on annuals and tender perennials; but it's no slacker in the happy color department either. She just keeps rolling out big bold blocks of color--it looks almost as if a box of gigantic crayons overturned in her back yard.

She's got a pair of fine-looking ponds at the bottom of the hill.

Also fairly new is this cactus and succulent garden, which is really shaping up nicely. It provides a real contrast and has a totally different character from her other gardens.

Containers are everywhere. She's up to almost 750--SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY!!!--pots this season. The whole area in front and to the side of her house, as well as the island bed in the foreground (near the top of the post) is all, or at least mostly, contained in a mass of pots. I am sometimes wearied by watering my paltry 150 or so pots, so I can only imagine the patience required to slake the thirst of this pot monster garden.

This bed along her driveway offers plenty of non-stop color punch.

Lastly for a bit of relief from all that eye-popping color extravagance (but just a little bit) take a gander at the is sweep of color leading to an island of tall swaying grasses. Their forms dance in the wind, offering a measure of soft green tranquility. For more on Chrissie's exuberant use of color, go here; for a look at one of her way-cool garden projects, go here.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-07-31T09:47:00.004-04:00

OK, I like all the Nicotianas. For different reasons. Some I like for their fragrance, some for the color of their flowers. This one, tree tobacco (Nicotiana glauca), earns my affection for the lovely blue gray of its foliage. I grow this South American native as an annual, but in some parts of the world this can top off at more than 20 feet. Hereabouts it rarely reaches a third that height. It does get some attractively dangling, yellow, trumpet-shaped flowers, but only rarely for me. The leaves are what this is all about--they can easily be big as your hand, and their color comes in handy for making neat foliar compositions and groupings. I often cut plants back to make them bushier.

For A Fun Five Minutes...

2009-07-26T16:08:00.004-04:00

If you haven't already seen Jill, Kevin and company stepping out for their wedding, check it out now.

Fab Foliage Friday (on a Sunday)

2009-07-26T15:42:00.001-04:00

Golden creeping speedwell (Veronica repens 'Sunshine') sure knows how to brighten the day. This sweet little groundcover forms a half-inch (not even) mat that serves as the perfect backdrop for a red lettuce, Helmond pillar barberry (Berberis thunbergii f. atropurpurea 'Helmond Pillar') or black mondo grass (Ophiopogon planiscarpus 'Nigrescens'). Or heck, why not all three. This super, simple plant needs plenty of sun to be at its brightest; mine starts heading toward chartreuse in the least bit of shade. It spreads slowly to form a carpet of shimmering gold that's sure to catch the eye. Oh yeah, tiny purple flowers too (sometimes) in spring.

Wisteria: It's Back

2009-07-20T12:23:00.005-04:00

Why won't my wisteria bloom? I can't tell you how many times I've seen this question asked in magazines, newspapers, and the like. Maybe I'm just lucky, but my wisteria not only blooms, it does so three times a season. Once in late spring as per usual, again just now and then yet again later in the season. I reckon this happens because: A) the roots are restricted--yes it's in the ground, but in an island bed in the middle of our patio, so it is, in essence, a small oasis of good soil in an ocean of stone dust and gravel. B) I never feed it. C) It gets cut back-ruthlessly-after every flush of flowers.

But those are just guesses. Maybe it's the way the stars align over Clatter Valley. Or maybe something even more esoteric. Really, I don't know why it happens. Gardens are often full of mysterious, hard-to-explain events? How wonderful is that?

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-07-17T06:28:00.008-04:00

The Missouri Botanical Garden's most excellent website has this to say about lead plant: "Somewhat ungainly...somewhat ordinary looking...with an attractive bloom but otherwise with no particularly outstanding landscape features." Excuse me? I find lead plant (Amorhpa canescens) a stellar foliage plant in the right circumstances. Its tiny silvery leaves, arranged on fernlike branches, are just the ticket for introducing a most appealing and delicate texture into beds and borders. A sun loving, bone hardy (USDA Hardiness Zones 2-9) shrublet, this plant should appeal even to native plant purists--at least those who define a native plants as one from the same contintent (for me a native plant is one found anywhere on planet Earth)-as it can be found growing in the wild throughout a very broad swath of the midwest.

This serious breach in taste regarding lead plant aside, the Missouri Botanical Garden (Mobot) is a superlative resource for quickly researching the design and horticultural characteristics for any garden plant I wish to know more about. I go straight to their Plantfinder, and hunt it down. Actually, the fastest way is to Google the plant's name and enter "mobot" in the searchbox too.

One last thing: yes, Fab Foliage Friday is all about foliage. Really. But since Mobot says that basically the only worthwhile part of lead plant are its flowers, I though I'd better include a shot of them as well. The bllooms are indeed striking in their purple and orange raiment. My plant is covered in these beauteous spires at this very moment--and the butterflies like them almost as much as I do.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-07-10T11:32:00.006-04:00

Like an arrow pointed to the sky, Alocasia 'Sarian' aims for the heights. And it gets there. This awesome elephant ear reaches anywhere from 4- to 8-feet tall, with the leaves accounting for about half that size. The upright, arrowhead-shaped leaves look a lot like the better-known but harder-to-grow (for me anyway) elephant ear 'African Mask' (Alocasia x amazonica 'African Mask'), only bigger and greener. I grow these guys in a pot, so the dramatic effect they create is a portable one. Anywhere I need a quick blast of drama, it's ready and willing to provide a touch of magic.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-07-03T15:13:00.005-04:00

Do you know 'Bert'? You might want to make his acquaintance. 'Bert' is a flowering maple (Abutilon spp.) with stunning maple-shaped leaves dappled with a splashy yellow variegation. Just the thing for brightening up a dark spot or for shimmering in the sun. This tender perennial cavorts happily in the ground or a pot, in sun or part shade, but 'Bert's best tricks are his flowers-colored a pale moonbeam yellow that matches the brightest sectors of the variegation. It's a color echo all by itself. I got this passalong plant from Sydney Eddison, who got it from Peter Wooster, in whose knock-em-dead Roxbury, CT garden, she adds, it originated.

Field Trip to George and Bob's Spring Fling

2009-07-02T10:11:00.016-04:00

Back in May, before our rains of biblical proportions began, I went to give a talk in the Hamptons, and while there visited the garden of Bob Luckey and George Biercuk in nearby Wainscott. Again. And it was even better than the first time I saw it. George is a garden designer, and his display of choice selections of all kinds of plants and, most especially, azaleas and rhodies is a show-stopping tour-de-force in spring. And from all accounts it's sweet in October, when legions of tall fuchsia 'Gartenmeister Bonstedt' preside over the garden from one end to the other. I'm looking forward to seeing it then. But in the meantime, let's cut to the chase: pictures. Enjoy 'em.

A network of twisting, turning paths radiates out from the house to weave throughout the garden.

Burgundy Japanese maples--especially the low, mounding cutleaf types- always make stellar backdrops for more delicate plants.

A naturalistic swimming pool lies at the garden's heart.

Love the tawny oranges of this Acer shirasawanum 'Autumn Moon' echo with the orange azalea, rhody, whatever.

A Perfect Pair

2009-06-30T09:16:00.006-04:00

My visit a while back to White Flower Farm to check out Fergus Garrett's border is in no way meant to suggest that his opus is the only thing worth seeing at the Litchfield, CT mecca. Beauteous display gardens abound, and serve as a showcase for WFF's mail-order and onsite plants. One combination that really caught my eye is this smoldering duo of Centaurea montana 'Gold Bullion' and Huechera 'Rave On.' The dangling blades of some iris (?) sharpen the edge of this showy combination.

One Hail Of A Storm

2009-06-29T19:18:00.007-04:00

Clatter Valley got hammered. Friday afternoon the sky got black as night, lightning flashed and driving rain and pounding hail, big as marbles, came crashing out of the sky. There was a tornado not far away. No electricity here for several days. What does all this mean for a garden that is comprised primarily of foliage, especially big bold foliage? Nothing good. Looks like Dick Cheney was hunting in the backyard. The leaves are blasted, the succulents are covered with divots--it's ugly. Clean-up, I'm afraid, will require little more than a machete and and a weed whacker. Much of what didn't get perforated got flattened, so either way its going to get cut down. Guess it will be interesting to see what bounces back, but at the moment it does not look promising.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-06-26T13:18:00.004-04:00

Oh yeah! Gold feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium 'Aureum') glows like there's no tomorrow. Old herbalists believed, and still do, that feverfew is a good remedy for fever and for headaches. Well, if your headache comes from wondering how to brighten up the garden, this variety will have you feeling better in no time. For me (here in Zone 6a), gold feverfew is a short-lived perennial but it does self sow. Unwanted seedlings are easy to pluck, but better still is a plan to give the plants a shearing before--or when--their little, yellow-centered white daisylike blooms appear. As I've mentioned, I'm not fond of white except in specific circumstances, and where I like gold feverfew is rarely included in those instances. So I shear my gold feverfew down by about half or even a bit more and soon bright new growth comes up to keep it vigorous looking for the remainder of the season. I do let a few flower, so I can collect the seed--which I just scatter--to establish new colonies.

Clatter Valley In The News

2009-06-25T09:34:00.005-04:00

Among the things that have been occupying my time of late are some stories I've done for our local paper, the Hartford Courant. I forgot to post about them. I did one on sheds, and another on using veggies in ornamental gardens.

Pots In The News

2009-06-25T09:08:00.007-04:00

Good container gardening story by New York Times garden writer Anne Raver in today's paper. It's largely about succulents, but she also talks to Bob Hyland, one of the owners of Loomis Creek, a worth-the-detour nursery in Hudson NY. Hyland, along with Margaret Roach, also participated in a container challenge of sorts at the Berkshire Botanical Gardens. Their efforts will be on display this summer. I plan to go up and see them a bit later; I want to wait for the plantings to ripen and fill out a bit. Look for a future post on the topic. Thanks to photog Stewart Cairns for the NYT pix.

Poppy Perfection

2009-06-21T14:45:00.008-04:00

It's here! The arrival in my garden of the stunning poppy Lauren's Grape (Papaver somniferum 'Lauren's Grape') is one of my favorite moments in the whole garden season. Blooming as it does about the first day of summer, this Kool-Aid-colored poppy signals the start of the celebrated (by me anyway) season and the beginning of hot weather, when the tropicals, tender perennials and annuals really take off and, soon after, give my garden its late-season zing. Plus, what's not to like about this deep dark color, appearing atop a stem clothed in crinkly blue green foliage and studded with nodding buds that salute the sky when flower time comes? It even self sows, so once you've got it, you've got it forever after.

When this distinctively hued flower first popped up in papaverphile Lauren Springer's garden, she recognized it as the apex of annual poppiedom, ripped out all its lesser rivals and spent something like seven years to develop a seed strain that would come true. It was worth every minute. Some years back, she gave a bag of seeds and I've appreciated this plant ever since. Thanks, Lauren!

A Late Spring Look At Fergus Garrett's White Flower Farm--Where Anytime Is A Good Time

2009-06-19T16:03:00.000-04:00

White Flower Farm hosted their annual eve-of-summer sale today, and, like every other gardener in a 50-mile radius of the place, I was there. After sating my plant lust with a great trove of annuals and a passel of perennials, I decided to swing by the Fergus Garrett border that was the subject of a post a few months ago. So without further ado...here's what it looks like this time of year.

There are no alliums in this shot (at left), but they do play a starring role in many of these combinations. I just wrote about alliums and their value in the late spring garden over at GGW, so it was gratifying to see that these humble garlic relatives get their moment in the sun here at White Flower Farm too.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-06-19T15:59:00.007-04:00

Is it a leaf? A flower? Or what? I'm calling the lovely veined pitchers of Sarracenia 'Judith Hindle' a leaf, because its flowers look a lot more like, well, flowers. Whatever you call them, this plant is one handsome piece of chlorophyll. I grow it in a little bog container garden, which I overwinter in a cold frame since the plant would not be likely hardy here in USDA Zone 6. It's worth the trouble.

Got Slugs?

2009-06-16T22:14:00.002-04:00

This wet, wet weather we're having brings not only April, May, and June flowers, it brings slugs. Tons of 'em. I thought I had it bad, but after seeing this video from South Africa I'm not complaining about the slugs in my yard ever again.

Brussels Loves Begonias

2009-06-13T08:15:00.001-04:00

Three million begonias is a lot of begonias-enough to make this 300 square yard floral carpet, which brightens downtown Brussels. These are cut flowers, laid down right on top of the cobblestones. One hot, hot sunny day and the whole thing must be toast. Talk about ephemeral art. Belgians have been recreating these vast medieval carpet patterns with begonia bloms for almost 40 years as part of their ongoing efforts to promote interest in and awareness of the flower. Certainly gets my attention.

Hat tip: Martha Cheshire and First Post

Fab Foliage Friday: Field Trip

2009-06-12T13:01:00.009-04:00

TGIFFF! To celebrate, we're off on a field trip to the gardens of John Marchacos in Berlin, CT. I often proselytize about building gardens from the leaves out, about creating textures and contrasts with foliage. John-who's an epimedium enthusiast (guess who E. 'Marchacos Sprite' is named for), and lover of woodland ephemerals-lives it. He gardens in the shade, so the effects he creates are far different from the combinations I pursue in my sunnier spot. But let's not muck things up with a bunch of verbiage. Instead, just look at the pix.

This is one sweet knot garden.

I've always liked this walkway.

But, lest you thin it's ALL about leaves, John has a few flowers too. He's one of the few Deutzia connoisseurs I know (not that they're bad, it's just that few gardeners seem to know more than one or two varieties). Here's a shot of 'Pink-A-Boo' in bloom. Silly name, super plant.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-06-05T08:37:00.003-04:00

The perfectly pinnate leaves of wild senna (Cassia marilandica aka Senna marilandica) are looking just great right now, but that's no surprise--these herbaceous perennials look good all season. I can't understand why this worthy native of the midwest and southeast isn't a more common presence in gardens. It's got distinctive foliage, a nice shrubby size-to 4 or 5 feet high and nearly as wide across-that makes it a good background plant, and it's basically care free (though it may need staking in shade). Plus it good for tough clay soils. And it's even easy from seed. What more could you want? Oh yes, flowers-it's got them too. Towers of yellow flowers top the plant in summer, and then give way to dangling blackish seed pods several inches long.

Peony Time

2009-06-04T06:54:00.001-04:00

Peonies are the belle of the ball. Any ball. Without doubt they are the most overdressed, most blowsy, most extravagant flower in the garden. They are an ode to botanical excess. I guess that's why you gotta love 'em. No other plant in my garden contributes as little as the peony for 11 and 1/2 months of the year, but during their brief moment in the sun, they rule. Totally.

All my peonies are anonymous. No idea who they are. As luck would have it, some years back the Artiste's brother purchased a farm, which had been, back in the day, a peony, iris and daylily farm. As my brother-in-law planned to turn the former flower fields into veggie gardens and hay-filled meadows, we got out there lickety split with shovels and filled my pick-up truck several times over with whatever goodies we could glom. As for the flowers, it was all sight unseen--we had no idea what we were getting. But hey, free peonies? How bad could that be? Still, it was a lot of work-the fields had been abandoned years earlier, so we had to carefully weed each clump of unidentified stuff we dug.

But nameless doesn't mean graceless. As it turned out we had dug loads of old-fashioned single peonies, which, for me have a charm that harkens back to an earlier era. They also have a wonderfully delicate fragrance. Due to their limited season of interest (Okay, early spring's emerging stalks are cool too, and the ruddy colors look great with the right tulips), I've relegated most of our peonies to a peony ghetto, which looks--and smells--splendiferous for about 14 days--if, God willing, it don't rain and the creek don't rise. We're entering that two-week span right about now, and doggone if those old-fashioned peonies don't look better every year. So, breathe deep. It's swoon time here at Clatter Valley.

One last thing...What's a peony without ants? The buds and even the flowers are usually crawling with them. The little critters just go nuts over the sweet, nectary secretions of the plant's globelike buds. They just can't keep away from those oh-so-ephemeral flowers. And neither can I.

My New BFF

2009-06-03T06:52:00.001-04:00

Jatropha (Jatropha integerrima 'Compacta') is my new Best Friend Forever. Wow! What color! I had to position this near the French doors, where I can look out anytime to see its bright red beacon blazing away like a lighthouse. I was lucky enough to recieve a standard last fall, from someone who didn't want to overwinter the thing, and it survived the dark (no light at all) recesses of my cool basement, and was flowering within a couple weeks of bringing it back into the heat and light this spring. I woke the jatropha up from its winter slumber by placing it in my little pop-up greenhouse.

Ever since, the thing has been going great guns, with beautiful screaming scarlet flowers erupting from bright red buds. Okay, the flowers are small, but that color! I never tire of looking at it. And the leaves! They're cool too! They come in several shapes--like sassafras leaves--and as the new ones appear they have a beauteous bronzy sheen. I'm smitten. Gee, looks like the start of yet another tropical love affair.

Tulips From The Treetops

2009-06-02T09:25:00.003-04:00

It's tulip time...again. But now, it's the tulip tree (Liriodendron tulipifera)--one of the lords of the eastern woodland forests--that rules. These massive trees often protrude above the forest canopy; they're among the tallest trees in the woods. And, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful. When I was a kid, I loved gazing up at their long, arrow-straight trunks. I still do. We're fortunate enough to have several, and this morning I walked outside to discover a perfect flower had fallen. Usually we just get beat-up bits and pieces on the ground, so finding a whole blossom is a treat. I'm always enchanted by their lime-chartreuse and orangey yellow egg-yolk colors.

Beth Dow's Garden Dreams

2009-06-01T08:30:00.005-04:00

Beth Dow photographs all kinds of things, but she creates particularly dreamlike black-and-white images of English and Italian gardens. The limited tonal range of the overall photos, and the spooky aura that seems to emanate from some of the brighter objects makes these gardens seems rooted in the imagination rather than the earth. There's a mystical quality to her work.

Here's what Beth has to say about her photographs, from her website: "These recent photographs were taken in formal English and Italian gardens. The shape and mystery of these places are a natural draw for me as they offer glimpses of the rich traditions of garden making. I am interested in garden history and historical concepts of paradise, and aim for pictures that have a meditative quality to reflect the spiritual urges that inspired the earliest gardens some six thousand years ago."

For more Beth Dow, a slideshow of her discussing her work can be found here.

Hat tip: Dark Roasted Blend

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-05-29T09:41:00.008-04:00

What time is it? It's Sem, Sem, Sem, Sem, Sem, Sem, Sem, Sem, Semmertime! I am bowled over by the way-cool foliage of Ural false spirea 'Sem' (Sorbaria sorbifolia 'Sem'). Absolutely, positively had to have it the instant I laid eyes on it. The ferny foliage is utterly distinctive, so it promises to combine well with just about anything, and as if that weren't enough, this small shrub's leaves are utterly colorific, with hues of yellow, orange, bronze and red. Wowsa! So what if it suckers like crazy? I can deal with that. Love it with tulips (top), plus, the emerging foliage of early spring is killer (at left) and so are the first sets of unspooled leaves (below). 'Sem' and I are going to have lots of fun together.

Art-full Gardens of LongHouse

2009-05-27T20:23:00.023-04:00

I've seen gardens that displayed art, and gardens that were artfully planted, but I've never seen anything quite like the LongHouse Reserve, where outdoor art and horticultural high style meet in a seamless embrace. This East Hampton, NY sanctuary aims to "exemplify living with art"--and it does. Wandering its trails and open spaces is a journey of playful discovery, enriched by unusual landforms, contemporary sculpture, and the singular beauty of artfully imagined gardens. At left stand --no, not fallen meteorites--strange, stonelike orbs: "Untitled (Round Forms)" by Grace Knowlton.

Cobalt rods by glass master Dale Chihuly rise from a swirl of grasses.

The arbor re-invented: "Entrance to a Garden" by Dennis Oppenheim. If you actually pass through this intriguing blue structure, you're rewarded with an almost secret seating spot, a welcoming bench perched near a wisteria. And, of course, it's not every day that you see an elephant doing a trunk stand, but maybe that's a good thing. "Elefandret" by Miguel Barcelo.

Below, "Fly's Eye Dome, designed by Buckminster Fuller, is seen through the open "Sea of the Ear-Ring" by Takashi Soga.

Throughout LongHouse, visitors happen upon clusters of primitive-looking pots positioned with dramatic flair.

I especially like these three studies in shape, perched atop a sand dune near the garden's entry. Their somber hues and enigmatic forms are deeply mysterious, and linger in the mind long after leaving the LongHouse Reserve's artful oasis.

Lady Slippers!

2009-05-27T09:08:00.004-04:00

We live in what is primarily hemlock forest, and if you've ever walked through a wood like that you might have been impressed by something--the almost complete lack of any understory growth. But our hemlocks are a bit mixed and enough light reaches the earth to allow the growth of several kinds of terrestrial orchids, even pink lady slippers (Cypripedium acaule). We're lucky to have such rare treasures. The stars must be aligned just right, as these dainty pouchlike plants require very specific growing conditions. But we've been worried of late--the hemlocks are dying off as a result of wooly adelgid, and the changing forest is playing havoc with what little life is on the forest floor. Our biggest swaths of pinks lady slippers have declined amazingly in the last few years. In one spot we went from more than 20 a couple years ago to a lonely trio now. So, it was a fine surprise yesterday, when I happened on a brand new stand of lady slippers growing in the shade of several magnolias I planted at the forest edge. Life goes on.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-05-22T09:25:00.007-04:00

I've been remiss in posting of late. Too many writing deadlines! And at a time of year I rarely undertake much in the way of writing assignments. So between that and the demands of the season, well, I seem stretched pretty thin. But enough excuses. TGIFFF!!!

Can't quite put my finger on what it is that appeals to me quite so much about Chinese Neillia (Neillia sinsensis). Maybe it's the Japanese maplelike foliage...I'm a sucker for anything like that. Could be it's more like a ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius 'Diablo')...I like them too. Or perhaps it's the coppery, burgundy-tinged hue of the new leaves...ditto. Or maybe even the way the leaves ride this small shrub's delicately arching branches. Who wouldn't like that? Really, I guess it's all those things, on this neat new plant given me by my friend Lydia Wallis, who's hosting me this weekend while I give a talk at the Horticultural Alliance of the Hamptons in NY. Thanks again Lydia!

You know, maybe there's an additional reason this plant is looking so fine right now, and though FFF is not about flowers, since you may not be familiar with Neillia I thought I'd include a pic of its blooms, which have just burst open from tight, bright, coral-colored buds. All in all, Neillia is a refined, delicate looking plant and I'm delighted it now has a home in my garden.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-05-15T15:42:00.006-04:00

In spring, a man's fancy turns to...bananas? Mine does anyway. Soon as the weather warms up, I think about exhuming my bananas from their winter quarters in the cool dark basement and bringing them up into the light, so they can start growing like crazy. It doesn't take much--some heat, light and water, and they're off to the races.

And what's not to like about the burgundy splotched foliage of Musa sumatrana 'Zebrina'? As Birdboylikes to say, "I don't like it, I LOVE it!" Especially with tropical smoke bush (Euphorbia cotinifolia).

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-05-08T17:33:00.004-04:00

It's ti time! Ti plants, of the genus Cordyline, are most commonly grown has houseplants. Which is fine, but gee, they look great in the garden too. Once the weather warms up I usually make a trip down to Lowe's or Home Depot, grab a few cheap ti plants and use them to plug any holes in the border. They look even better when you enliven the color combos with some long-flowering tender perennials such as this duranta (Duranta 'Homerus Depotus').

In More Bird News...

2009-05-07T10:59:00.004-04:00

Birdboy's flock continues to grow. The latest addition has been pigeons--last fall we got some rollers (which are kinda like homing pigeons but perform occasional aerobatic feats), but I'm still finishing their way cool loft, which is designed to be both ornamental and functional, with trap doors so they can come and go, a big arched window, and, up top, a tower where they can hang out. Just the other day, a pair of the rollers' eggs hatched, and we get to watch the teeny chicks develop--they'll be flying a just a few weeks! Right after that a friend have us a couple pure white homing pigeons--they look fantastic wheeling through the blue skies overhead.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-05-06T08:28:00.003-04:00

Sassafras (Sassafras albidum)

Seb's Saga

2009-05-05T08:47:00.005-04:00

Poor old Sebby. Sebastian, our white Chinese goose, is having tough times. He was raised from a gosling with four ducks, who, now that they are full grown, have turned on their childhood playmate. The ducks are real thugs. They love nothing better than chasing poor Seb out of the pond and away from wherever Seb might be lounging. They hog the food too. Whenever the Artiste, Bird Boy or I catch the ducks doing their terrorist routine, we spread our arms like wings, flap away and charge the ducks--who beat a hasty retreat, just as fast as their stubby, stiff-legged waddle can carry them. Seb runs along right behind us, wings spread, and honking like a taxi in traffic. He loves turning the table on his tormentors.

Because the whole flock of fowl-with also includes a dozen or so chickens-overnights in a coop, we've taken to letting Seb sleep separately, indoors at the house. Birdboy has a room dedicated to his indoor birds, so we've set up a small cage on the floor where Seb can snooze. He loves it. Late in the day he wanders up the stone stairs to the house, ready to come inside. In the morning Seb gets a special treat--he just loves lettuce--then goes out for walk with the Artiste. She takes him down to the pond, where he glides about peacefully for a while, all alone and, for those few precious moments, the proud and graceful master of his domain.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-05-01T11:15:00.004-04:00

I like elephant ears. It's another of those plants where, the more the merrier. I especially like the new gigantic offering that making the rounds as--what else?--Colocasia gigantea. Oh yeah, it's big. Look how it dwarfs that chair--and I took that photo before the end of last season, and let me tell you, that plant got bigger EVERY DAY. Love the way it looks with 'Illustris' too. I tried to over winter the bulb-bare and dormant-and should know soon if it survived. I sure hope it survived --I'm looking for it to get even more gigantea this year.

No Way Am I Crossing This Bridge. EVER.

2009-04-29T11:21:00.004-04:00

I have crossed some very scary, pedestrian-only suspension bridges in the Andes and in Indonesia, but this one? Don't think so. Not even on all fours. Can anyone tell me where in the world this is? I am never, ever going there.

Shout out: Dark Roasted Blend

Why Can't I Ever Get A Flight Attendant As Entertaining As This One?

2009-04-24T09:43:00.004-04:00

Shout out: Huffington Post

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-04-24T08:50:00.004-04:00

Hakonechloa macra 'Aureola'. What a mouthful. And, for sure, an eyeful. Is it possible there is a grass with more graceful form? I don't think so. The gentle, waterfall-like cascade of gold Japanese forest grass is superlative for softening edges, for use in containers, and as contrast with broader-leaved plants...Heck, its use in the garden is virtually limitless. Too bad it's so pricey. But a plant as beauteous as this, with such eye-catching color-I challenge anyone to ignore the sheer splendor of its slender blades of green-streaked sunshine--may well be worth its weight in gold.

For more on the foliage front, check out a story on colorful foliage I did for the local newspaper, the Hartford Courant.

Moss Man Needs Your Help

2009-04-22T10:34:00.006-04:00

Happy Earth Day! Just because Moss Man is looking out for our planet doesn't mean the rest of us can slack off. We all need to do what we can to defend our environment. And happily, gardening is a great way to do that. So, go plant a tree.

Moss Man is the alter ego of Nashville's J. Paul Moore--gardener and photographer extraordinaire--who took this kooky self portrait (and sent it to me after I pleaded for a few shots from his Moss Man series). Enjoy his great garden slide show; on the opening page of his site, click on portfolio, then gardens. While you're at it, his show on architecture features some terrific gardenesque hardscaping and his scenic nature series reminds us of just how beautiful our home planet can be.

Bob Kamm's Color Craze

2009-04-21T08:38:00.015-04:00

Happy Color brightens the day, even the night. Practitioners of this particular type of gardening are those who've never met a color they didn't like and who aren't shy about proclaiming their passion to the world at large. They have burst free from the shackles of traditional color theory, free, in fact, from almost everything but the pursuit of eye-popping, pysche -searing, no-holds-barred color--and plenty of it. Yippee-Yi-Yo-Ki-Yay!!!

In an earlier post, I introduced Chrissie D'Esopo, gardener extraordinaire and happy color purist who plants thousands of annuals each season to realize her technicolor vision. Well, Chrissie has a friend, Bob Kamm, who's also no slouch in the color department. Bob is so tireless that he plants and tends not one, but three--count 'em, three--expansive, labor intensive gardens each summer, using, in the process, annuals in numbers of the kind most associated with--oh, I don't know--the quantity of stars glittering in the Milky Way galaxy. Amelia's Garden, Kamm's best known effort (it's open to the public) is at a hockey rink (?) in Westfield, Ma. It covers 1.3 acreas, has 64 beds (!) and more color than a boatload of Disney films. Here are some of the fabulously floriferous fruits of his labors. Enjoy!

Fab Foliage Friday (Plus A Few Minutes)

2009-04-18T00:15:00.004-04:00

Spikey stuff sends me. Especially spikey stuff on a stick. Like cabbage palm, ti plants or cordyline--whatever you wanna call 'em-botanically Cordyline australis 'Red Star'. Those long, slender leafy blades cut a dashing look in almost any combination. And what's fun about cordylines is that after a few years overwintering a couple of specimens , you've got stuff at varied heights, and there always seems to be one sized right to fit in almost anywhere. Or combine a grouping for an explosive, fireworklike effect.

The Greening of Grey Gardens

2009-04-16T07:52:00.006-04:00

If you ever saw "Grey Gardens," the Maysles brothers documentary about the spooky, crumbling Long Island manse and the two eccentrics--Big Edie and Little Edie--who inhabited the place, well, you may be surprised at what's become of the old homestead. You'd never recognize the place. Former Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee and his wife Sally Quinn bought the entropy-ridden house and hired artist Victoria Fensterer to redesign and rework the gardens. She's now been at it 23 years, and the results are stunning. The New York Times has a interesting story about the transformation, and a good slide show of pictures from then and now; most of the current pictures are by Robert J. Eckholm.

Kew's Millennium Seed Bank Project

2009-04-14T09:05:00.004-04:00

Ah, the splendor of a seed. This time of year, I'm thinking a lot about seeds, being as I'm planting them by the hundreds, or even thousands. I often regard them as little spaceships, launched out like interstellar explorers into the vastness of our atmosphere to find a new home, to settle and take root. And so the species survives for yet another generation.

That idea, writ large, is basically the notion behind seed banks, which intercept those little spaceships before their flight has begun and then preserve them for some future day, when the species may be endangered and will need all the reinforcements it can get.

Climate change, habitat destruction, exploding human populace-there are lots of reason to take dramatic steps--now--to preserve species that may be in danger of disappearing from our planet, and worse, from the treasury of its varied DNA. Seeds banks are perhaps the best way to do that for plants, since each little seed is a microcosm of the plant itself, a blueprint for life encapuslated in something that can be as large as a coconut or as small as a dust mote.

Kew Gardens has embarked on a mission to save seed of as many plant species as possible,

hastened by the recognition that perhaps as many as 100,000--100,000!!!--species are threatened. They estimate that EVERY DAY four new species are threatened. Since virtually all life on earth is dependent on plants, those statistics do not sound promising. So far, the seed-wranglers have rounded up about 30,000 species, so they have lots more to go. All I can say to the folks at Kew is "Godspeed!"

To learn more about Kew's efforts, visit their fine website. The Electron micrographs from this post were taken by Rob Kesseler and Madeline Harley--see more here--and their book "The Hidden Sexuality of Flowers."

For a more cogent explanation of Kew's efforts and some sense of why it matters, let the folks at Kew tell you what they're up to, they can do it far better than I.

Shout out: The Daily Dish

Rusaman Rules the Roost

2009-04-13T10:40:00.007-04:00

Rusaman is a Japanese(?) photographer about whom I know virtually nothing. Nada. Zilch. But the guy takes some great pictures, employing a vast range of styles. Here are a few I loved. Is that chicken cool or what?

Shout out: TYWKIWDBI

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-04-10T09:10:00.004-04:00

With foliage as colorful as this, who needs flowers? This zippy litle vignette at Wesley Rouse's Southbury, CT garden consists of a canopy of 'Forest Pansy' redbud (Cercis canadensis 'Forest Pansy'), top; two big clumps of Canna 'Pretoria'; spears of a yucca, (not sure which one), and the roundy-leaved mound of Barberry 'Rosy Glow' (Berberis thunbergii 'Rosy Glow'). At lower left is an unidentified gold-leaved hosta. Anyleaves, with a technicolor grouping like this, you've got a showy spot in the garden all season long. This grouping's got it all: shape, texture and color. Foliage rules!

Things Are Popping Up All Over

2009-04-09T11:06:00.009-04:00

I delight in the profusion of Spring pop-ups, including favorites such as hellebores and the weird, sci-fi flowers of butterburr (Petasites japonica), but one of the most exciting seasonal appearances is that of my little pop-up greenhouse. I set it up in early April and before long it's stuffed with seedlings. And I've got lots of other stuff waking up in there-dormant elephants ears (Colocasia spp.), many slumbering salvias (mostly S. guaranitica 'Black and Blue'), bromeliads, cannas (love that C. 'Tropicanna'), and more.

My greenhouse, a 6x6x6 cube that goes up as easily as tent, will go back to the basement by mid-May, when danger of a frost will be a thing of the past (Yahoo!). In the meantime, it helps me get a head start on containers and prevents my seedlings, like this Stipa tenuissima, from getting too leggy. Young tomato plants like it inside too. On cold nights, I toss a blanket over the top of the greenhouse for extra insulation, then crank up the little electric heater inside. Those plants are happy as clams. And so am I.

Wordless Wednesday (Well, Almost)

2009-04-08T09:02:00.002-04:00

Gotta love glory of the snow (Chionodoxa forbesii). At the moment, fortunately, there's plenty of glory, and no snow to speak of.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-04-03T19:50:00.000-04:00

I'm crazy about castor beans (Ricinus communis). These malevolent plants are deadly poison, and in one famous Cold War incident, a bit of ricin (the poison) was dabbed on an umbrella tip subsequently used to jab a Bulgarian diplomat in a KGB-sponsored assassination. And not so long ago, a terrorist cell in Great Britain was nabbed with plans to make some kind of ricin bomb or something.

But in the garden, these are sweet citizens indeed. I love the palmate--that is, hand-shaped--foliage and the Brobdingnagian size of the leaves, which on the seed strain 'Zanzibarensis' can reach nearly three feet across. Best of all though, I like the smoldering burgundy hues common to 'Carmencita Pink' and a number of other seed strains. In a vacant lot in Boquete, Panama, I once saw a naturalized strain growing wild that had nearly jet-black leaves. I grabbed some seed-most of it wasn't ripe yet-brought it home and grew some on, but it matured too late to produce viable seed. Sigh!

Anybeans, I grow this stuff from seed every spring and soak seeds overnight before sowing in pots. Once they germinate, they grow FAST, so I'm careful to start them about 2-3 weeks before the last frost. Out inthe garden, they look good almost anywhere, being bold enough to lord it over any less robust neighbors. It looks great positioned against finely textured companions like the grass pictured above in a combo from Winterberry Gardens, in Southington, Ct.

I'm In the Magazines

2009-04-03T08:57:00.013-04:00

Yankee Magazine ran a story about my spring garden, in a piece that also includes Gordon and Mary Hayward, and Honey Sharp. They miscredited the photos of my garden, which are by me, not Richard Brown. I'm looking forward to the next few weeks, when tulip time rolls around again, and our garden looks like it looked in the picture of our tulip walk published in Yankee.

Clatter Valley is also featured in the current issue of Fine Gardening magazine (May/June 2009, issue #127), with a pared-down story and pictures of my leafy passion--pairings of plants with gold and burgundy foliage, like the glam grouping above. Some of those combos really sizzle in spring, but most of the vignettes pictured are comprised of tender perennials, annuals and tropicals. They headlined my story about these foliar friends "The Color Combo That Always Works." Couldn't have said it better myself.

Rush Hour

2009-04-01T10:21:00.004-04:00

Think your morning commute is tough? When I pop open the trap door on our chicken coop, it's like a Chinese fire drill. The chickens, ducks and goose come charging out like there's no tomorrow, follow me over to the grain bin, and chow down--all while a couple bullying roosters enforce the pecking order. Just another day at the office.

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-03-27T06:48:00.002-04:00

What's not to like about Euphorbia 'Flame Leaf'? Teardrop-shaped leaves the size of your pinky fingernail are colored a deep burgundy and edged in bright green, are borne on amultitude of slender stems so they are at once billowy and spilling. Thanks to their amiable color, they fraternize well with almost any other plant. These little guys are invaluable in container schemes, and look especially handsome draped over the side of a pot, though they are happy in the ground as well. Unfortunately, 'Flame Leaf' is a tender treasure, but is easily overwintered in bright indoor spot, where it is likely to drop seeds and self sow, thus come spring, you've got lots of new plants. Which is a good thing, because this versatile player--also looks great with hostas-is welcome all over the garden.

The Felder File

2009-03-26T08:54:00.008-04:00

Felder Rushing, one of my favorite horticulturists, is profiled in the New York Times. In it, he talks at length about his slow gardening approach--it's a good way to go. While I disagree with Felder's assertion that a bottle tree has some of the same qualities as a Dale Chihuly sculpture, I'm enamored with the man's practical, common-sensical approach to gardening. And his notion that gardening should be all about experimenting and having fun.

Anyone who keeps a garden in the back of their pick-up truck is likely to have a few other unconventional ideas. I also like, though I may not care to emulate, his wacky sense of garden ornament-brightly painted tire planters, mannequins, pink flamingos, rebar and the like. But his off-the-wall approach is liberating. The secret to a satisfying garden, after all, is following wherever your instincts lead rather than slavishly heeding horticultural conventions. It's an attitude thing. Thus this Felder credo: "Doesn't matter what you do, or how you do it, your neighbors are gonna talk about you ANYWAY."

Furthermore, I'm a devoted listener to Felder's public radio show, "The Gestalt Gardener," which you can also pick up through his website. I borrowed the pictures of bulb-juggling Felder and his garden from Felder's website. Thanks, Felder!

Wordless Wednesday

2009-03-25T15:18:00.001-04:00

Fab Foliage Friday

2009-03-20T10:18:00.011-04:00

I wish I had buckets of popcorn plant (Cassia didymobotrya). While many may grow this stunning east African native for its spires of bright yellow flowers that burst from inky black buds, I think they're missing the point. Which is, of course, its splendid foliage. I'm a sucker for anything with pinnate foliage, because not too many plants in my garden have it. Pinnate comes from pinna, the Latin word for feather-which is as good a description of each leaf-actually a conglomeration of pairs of leaflets arrayed along a midrib, kind of like a giant fern-as botanic Latin allows.

Sadly this plant is nowhere near hardy, so I grow it in pots, big pots, because it can easily reach six feet or so in height and four or five feet across in a single season. It likes well-drained soil and full sun, plus it's drought tolerant and deerproof. I'm not sure yet, but I think I've finally succeeded in overwintering this baby--a bit if a trick since I don't have a greenhouse. Woohoo! So I'm looking for it to add a real splash this coming season. Oh yeah-in case you're wondering why it's called popcorn cassia--rub the leaves and take a sniff. It's almost like being at the movies-so sit back and enjoy the show.

Lush Landscapes, From All Over

2009-03-19T09:08:00.006-04:00

A portfolio of eye-popping images of extraordinary landscapes is available here. Wish I knew who the photog was, but since I can't read Polish (I think it's Polish), I haven't a clue. Some of the other portfolios on this site are worth a look too. Anyway, enjoy!

Shout out: TYWKIWDBI

Exploring El Explorador

2009-03-18T08:59:00.013-04:00

El Explorador has just got to be one of the kookiest, quirkiest gardens anywhere. Where else are you going to see a papyrus allee? Or a grove of bottle trees? Sited darn near the top of a mountain on the edge of beautiful Boquete, Panama, this sprawling hillside garden almost melts into the surrounding forests. It was built as a spiritual refuge of sorts, a place to freshen your outlook on life, and its zany exuberance just about makes that possible. It's peppered with signs (all in Spanish) bearing uplifting quotations and steeped in a playful kind of tranquility, so a feel-good sensibilty just pervades the place.

For a real uplift, try out the hilltop swing, which--thanks to its way high moorings and long ropes--brings you very, very close to the sensation of flight.

They take a very idiosyncratic approach to container gardening, so say the least.

There are loads of wonderful plant world oddities like this cow's udder (Solanum mammosum).

I always stop to smell--no, not the roses--the brugmansias.

Last, but not least, are the inspiring views over the surrounding countryside. Uplifting indeed.

A Garden Full of Fancy Foliage

2009-03-16T23:46:00.012-04:00

I never get tired of foliage. It carries the garden through the season, providing structure, form and texture. And, done right, color. Colorful foliage is just the ticket for creating vibrant scenes that please from early spring to latest fall, and, if you use evergreens, all year long. As an aficionado of foliage-especially leaves in hues of blue, chartruese, gold, burgundy, silver and cream, which I found in abundance in Les and Monique Anthony's electric borders. They're the kinds of gardeners who never met a plant they didn't like-as long as it had colorful foliage, so the place is a treasury of unusual woody plants, and plenty of perennials too.

This winding path isn't long, but that doesn't mean it's not rewarding. And, a cool design element. Happening on this garden is but the first in a series of surprises. It's located in a staid suburban development and to say it stands out from its neighbors is, well, an understatement. The whole development was, not so very long ago, a cow pasture, which may explain why things just seem to grow like topsy in the Anthony's borders.

Anyway, the surprises really start once you get out back, where the garden begins in earnest.

Happily there are places where you can just grab a chair and soak it all in.

Even the containers provide hits of bright, eye-grabbing color. These bright blue pots make a catchy counterpoint for the chartreuse, silver and burgundy leaves that enliven this scene. But why take my word for it? If you're around the Connecticut area, see for yourself. The Anthony's Wallingford garden is a new addition to the Garden Conservancy's Open Days program, and will be open July 12. For more info, go here.