skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Even I (notoriously quoted as in "Think about the flowers last!")
find it hard to resist the seduction of early spring flowers. Here, sandwiched between Passover & Easter, is an update of one of my Lenten Roses (not sure what cultivar of Helleborus hybridus). I like the contrast provided by last year's foliage. After all, brown and purple (or are we calling it magenta this week?) is one of the great color combos...even better if you throw in some chartreuse.
We just received the most recent copy of the Morton Arboretum's publication, SEASONS. How refreshing to find a publication that has been downsized: smaller size, non-glossy on paper containing recycled fiber and sponsor logos you can't confuse with images or text from the MA. Here's the best news: starting with their summer issue: you can get your copy on-line.They say they asked for members' feedback and listened: seems so. And it fits with their mission.
No current picture from MA. Instead an image of an emerging native plant: Virginia Bluebell. I love it best at this stage when it still retains a purple tinge and resembles sow's ears. Next it turns lush green and grows big & cabbagy Then, it dangles enticing blue blooms before going dormant with the summer heat.
iPhone quality will have to suffice...
We had a great time yesterday at this intimate class I led at the Chicago Botanic Garden. Given cultural realities, I was not surprised that the entire band consisted of women, although the funny, self-appraising letter I excerpted about process being eternal in the garden was written by a male client.
I made some new friends and surprised a long-term one who has not only known me forever, but is a far more accomplished gardener than most, certainly than I. Teaching is always helpful to me because it forces me to assess if I practice what I preach. And too, people come up with ideas I would have never contemplated. Finally, if all goes well, there is the satisfaction of communicating and sharing something that may be worthwhile for somebody else.
The sharp clear sky led to a memorable sunset just before our class began. I stumbled on this plant (didn't really focus on ID, but suspect it's a Magnolia) literally glowing with the last rays of the sun. You can't tell here how the light made these buds dance.
After my dear friend, Deet in Guatemala, weighed in on last post, I checked on what I was doing a year ago. March 18th was the day I returned from my annual visit, as Earthways Project Director, to AFOPADI'
s Organic Agriculture and Reforesting Programs in several Mayan communities in the mountainous Northwest of Guatemala. They were about 2/3rds of the way through the dry season. The rains generally begin around May and having been there during the rainy season, I can appreciate why people are so concerned about the coming rains in Haiti.
These photos show a new community (at about 7,000') where the villagers have asked AFOPADI to work with them. The doctor has already begun a clinic and we were there to discuss their request for corn silos. The top picture gives you a sense of the erosion (clearly the most dangerous during the rains when whole villages tumble down mountainsides). The bottom one shows the quality of soil, or lack thereof.
Evanston, Illinois
Dalarna, Sweden
This image illustrates the previous post...now you can see where the snake fits in the garden. And where we will place the eyes. Shame on me for not mentioning their creator: Erin McNamara.
I also forgot to mention that we planted Solidago 'Fireworks' at the tip of the tail. So, in late summer, a bright yellow bloom of stature and architecture emphasizes that point. You can see it dead center of the bottom picture in previous post.
This is the title of the class I am teaching next week (3/23) at the Chicago Botanic Garden. It focuses on process, over time, in the garden. We will be having fun and looking at some interesting projects.
One of the highlighted projects was designed after an Elm at least 6' in diameter was felled by Dutch Elm disease. The concept we finally pursued was that of a snake going after its tail, an image of infinity, in hommage to the lost tree. Image my surprise when, a year or so after the garden was installed, I met somebody who knew an artist who had made snake eyes. One thing led to another and our client just came into possession of said snake eyes...I show one here with her hands for scale. We will soon place them in the garden (below). I think I may have a shot of the design on file....look in later post.
