Yesterday, the Rockettes and I were walking back to the greenhouse from planting teeny poppies and blue woodruff in the Rock Garden and I finally saw a tree that my eyes must have bounced off of nearly every day since I started working here. The tree has beautiful peeling bark that would have been a perfect feature in a Winter Interest post (maybe next winter I’ll write one of those…) and according to the AHS A-Z it has midsummer flowers (insignificant according to Julie) followed by pea-like seed pods. But this is what the Maackia amurensis has now and what my eyes finally lit on and saw:

From a distance the emerging leaves looked almost purple/blue and up close they were sterling silver busting out of an 18k greengold wrap! The thing that I can’t get over is not that it was one of the most incredible color combos I’ve ever noticed in nature but that I simply hadn’t registered the tree before. My challenge for you, if you choose to accept it, is to look at something new that you see everyday. You might find a surprise every bit as sublime and stunning and knock you off your rocker gorgeous (like these Red maple samaras).

There are other things we’re noticing in the gardens that aren’t so wonderful but are just as important to keep an eye out for. Gail and I spotted Cedar-apple rust (Gymnosporangium juniperi-virginiani) on a Juniper near the greenhouse. These alien orange gelatinous globs of disgusting goo appear in April/May usually after a rain on the host plant - Junipers (Juniperus virginiana) a.k.a Eastern Red Cedars - and then spread by spore to infect apples and native crabapples (most non-natives are resistant). Damage on apples appears as leaf spots, poor quality fruit and repeated infection can eventually cause the tree to die. Take a look at your junipers - if you see an orange Martian with horns, cut it off and throw it out (but not in the compost).

Today we moved some perennials from the North Garden to the Rose Garden and as I was digging my planting holes I came across these critters. The larger brown-orange one I think is a Gypsy Moth pupa (anyone know for sure?) and when I suggested putting the wriggling guy on the pavement for the birds to find both Gail and Julie said “Awww…” and the Mom in Gail said “We don’t harm nature, Kris.” So I rolled my eyes and buried it again. I squarshed the other one though and several of its siblings. And I would pay any child a penny a pinch to do the same because it was a Japanese beetle grub and future rose devour-er. I had half a mind to keep digging up the Rose Garden to try and find them all… Instead I did something much more pleasant - I nipped and pinched and groomed our lavenders. Older specimens often open up in the middle and pinching can help keep them young at heart.

Daffodil Days are still going strong although the daffodil show is beginning to go by. It’s a good thing the parade of (other) blooms has only just begun!

No doubt about it, Blithewold’s fairies are Red Sox fans. They set up this satellite dish in time to catch the World Series and no one but this toadstool was out and about this morning after last night’s fairy celebratory revelry. We believe!

It’s somehow fitting that last night was also the first night that the heat kicked on at my house. I always keep the heat set low over the winter to save energy. The folks who work in the mansion here at Blithewold know what conservation feels like too - it’s chilly! I want to share a gardener’s little trick for how to feel warm this winter: Go outside!! Everyone who came into the potting shed this morning (including me) said “whoa - it’s toasty in here!” It was 61 degrees F inside!

Decked out in a stocking cap, scarf and polartec (I love the accessories of winter) I spent the chilly morning digging Dahlia ‘Sneezy’ up from the North Garden. It’s better to wait for a killing frost before digging dahlia tubers but we’re going to lose the volunteers soon and have to keep to a schedule and can’t wait patiently for frost. (Even with the chill this morning, the frost wasn’t a killer). Luckily the ‘Sneezy’s always have plump and healthy looking tubers no matter when we dig them or how awful the plant looks (some of them were smashed by neighbors and really scrunky looking). I cut off the stalks and will leave the tubers out to dry in the sun for a day or two before packing them in dampened sawdust and putting them in boxes down cellar. Aside from serious losses resulting from not unpacking some before hot and damp weather set in last spring, we were pretty happy with the sawdust method. Does anyone have a different tried and true method for overwintering dahlias? Enquiring gardeners want to know!

Tomorrow the we and the Deadheads will continue to winterize the North Garden. Many hands make light work and in no time at all, annuals will come out, perennials will be cut back and another giant pile of garden will be trucked off. We always try to leave some things in the garden for the lingering wildlife - I know where at least a couple of praying mantis egg cases are and last week we spotted this very-late-to-the-party monarch caterpillar on the move - probably looking for a spot to pupate. I expect that if we happen to find the chrysalis, Gail will rescue him and bring him home for her 8 year old to watch. (Don’t worry he’s not a wing-ripper-off-er!)

An Australian priest living in New Bedford, MA sent Blithewold’s executive director a poem and she encouraged me to share it. Fr. Sharbel said he was inspired to write this (as yet untitled) poem titled “Deight” after walking around Blithewold with a friend this summer:

Seeds planted long ago

Have now become a splendid show,

That bring delight to the heart

As each in order play their part.

As one strolls beneath the trees

In summer’s air become a breeze,

One feels a calm and peace of soul

Our stories are in whispers told.

Each path is followed with delight

For at each turn is found a sight,

Of colors in their varied shades

New in light that grows and fades.

Here we learn to take our time

And watch the years make better wine,

As from the beautiful, we here drink deep,

May we within thanksgiving keep.

-by Fr. Sharbel Francis Mary

Isn’t it lovely? I think he must have had a nice visit…

Yesterday, the Deadheads removed more of summer’s veneer in the Display Garden and started to *think spring* by planting tulips in the cutting beds. It seems like we gardeners spend a lot of time casting ahead to the future. We plan and scheme and envision seasons to come while being totally up to our elbows in the here and now. It’s no wonder we get exhausted. I love the digging, rearranging, tidying, and putting to bed of fall but have trouble switching gears to plan for the colors of spring! Spring is too soft and pastel for me now with fall in my face (sneeze-o-matic ragweed must be still blooming in the unseasonable warmth). Fall’s colors seem deeper, earthier, and maybe it’s the light but they seem more electric. Neon tree colors are driving me to distraction (and nearly off the road). I love the rudeness of fall too - it’s like a little kid throwing blustery tantrums and telling really juvenile jokes. Working in the North Garden last week a peculiar odor reached for my nose and I found this shocking thing (right) the size of my pointer finger in the otherwise demur and still pretty garden. Stinkhorn fungi (Mutinus elegans) can be found in bark mulch or really rich soil.

I hope summer visitors like Fr. Sharbel come back to Blithewold to see the “splendid show” (and off-color comedy revue) of fall, all the “colors in their varied shades” of winter and “the beautiful” this coming spring. Meanwhile I’m going to take “each [season] in order” and even if I have to cast ahead a bit to another, I’ll remember to delight in (laugh at) the now.

Can everyday be Action Day? There are bandwagons all over the place that I want to jump on. Here is a post about the three R’s (reduce, reuse, recycle) that reminded me to rave that Fred and Dan, Blithewold’s groundsmen are expert at Reusing/Recycling. They took sills from the old greenhouse when it was renovated and rather than hauling it to a scrapyard, they re-invented it as a bed edge and grass stair risers. Sometimes with a wide open to the possibilities imagination, a useless cast-off can be rescued from the landfill and transformed into the perfect solution!
This morning I found a sidetrack bandwagon in this (otherwise really interesting) post. I’ve been on a (passive) lookout for an alternative to the soilless potting mix that we use in the greenhouse. Most (all?) potting mixes are made with peat which is not a renewable resource. It also bears mentioning that peat harvests are killing precious bogs and I don’t want to be a party to bog death. I perked right up at the mention of coconut coir in this post and did just a little searching and found that it’s available by the brick and bale. I’m curious now - has anyone has used it either in or as a potting medium? What’s your source? Did you and your plants like it? Do you have any other peat-free potting medium recommendations? Enquiring gardeners want to know!

And if everyday is action day (sometimes action is not about Activism…) the volunteers have had a couple very active days! Here’s a before and after of the Cutting Bed - note that Gail and I have allowed the Asclepias physocarpa ‘Oscar’ (a.k.a. Hairy balls) to live on for the time being!… Next week we’ll be planting tulips.

And the Fairies have been pretty active too. The fairy family at 4 Dust Ave. has acquired some overstuffed furniture! Looks like they’re still working out how to get it up the stairs and down the hall…

Late September is a keep on keeping on time for us. The gardens are still puffing away practically under their own steam and we won’t start pulling the brakes until after the house closes (Columbus Day weekend). Now’s the time for noticing.

Gail looked up in the Bosquet and noticed a bouquet. Mushrooms on a tree (in this case a Norway maple - Acer platanoides) are, unfortunately not a sign of health…

I noticed this praying mantis noticing me. (and I can’t seem to not take a picture when I spot one!)

This swallowtail caterpillar noticed only the carrot greens.

The Moongate Sophora is so laden with seedpods that if you don’t take notice, it will bean you.

One of the Rockettes noticed a praying mantis egg case in the False indigo (Baptisia australis). - Why do they choose plants we cut back?

Kari also noticed green tipped, spooned petal mutations on some Zinnia Profusion Double Pink in the North Garden. (She thinks we ought to have it patented and market it as the Blithewold Zinnia - it is that cool!)

I noticed how a Rudbeckia was deadheaded. — The first gardening job I ever had, I was given little instruction and free run on the grounds of a small school in CA. In order to fly under the radar of my boss (a tiresome and rather fatuous bump) I taught myself fairy-like subtlety and elfish stealth. — I was worried enough about doing the wrong thing that I made sure that what I did, didn’t show. Turns out, when it comes to deadheading, that’s a good thing to do! Rather than pop a deadhead off leaving a bare stick flagpole above the leaves, it’s less noticeable to make the cut at a leaf or better yet, a new bud. I like to look around the garden and see where I’ve been without being able to see where I’ve been!

What’s noticeable to you?

It’s already been a weird week of elfish triumph, freakish nature and things that nightmares are made of.

First the triumphs: our garden elves and selves yesterday planted the cutting garden and spread leaf mulch (every one of us was eyeing it jealously - why can’t we all have arboretum leaves for our own gardens?!) and the Rockettes changed venue to attend to post-planting details in the North Garden. A fresh layer of buckwheat hull mulch makes that garden look extra fancypants!

The leaf pile gave us this little treasure yesterday — qu’est-ce que c’est??

And I noticed this little sporty thing in a North Garden Clematis integrifolia today – it’s hard to tell but it seems to be one of the petals choosing a different path in life. (”I always felt like a leaf in a petals body…”) Anyone else notice this sort of thing ever?

As for nightmares - I was too bereft to take pictures: we lost a bunch of dahlias to rot. I was feeling so smug for packing them so diligently and - I thought - so successfully in sawdust last fall. As a matter of fact, I unpacked some and potted them up on the 18th and they were fine! Less than a week later Gail went to unpack more and noticed the wildlife (gnats… a family of mice…) and rot… What happened???!!

and I had to take a picture of this because if anything causes me to question my calling in life, it’s a tangle of garden hose…

But miracles bring me back from the brink — the bamboo shoots are up! We’re often asked if we sell it — we don’t. It’s the kind of thing that makes neighbors angry when it runs to their side of the fence and under foundations! (say it with me — “it’s invasive!”) There are nurseries that stock it though if you’ve got the space to let it run. We (I mean, the guys) mow the edges of our grove to keep it in bounds.