In 1926 Blithewold’s 50 year old Toon tree (Cedrela sinensis aka Toona sisensis) bloomed for the first time (and was thought to be the first one to bloom in this country). William McKee, Bessie Van Wickle McKee’s second husband, brought the flowers to the Arnold Arboretum in Boston for identification which incited plant hunter Ernest Henry Wilson and botanist Alfred Rehder to travel to Bristol to see what other amazing things the McKee’s might have on their property. Wilson and Rehder discovered a plantman’s paradise. In a letter to her daughter, Bessie wrote, “They were frankly amazed to find so lovely and interesting a place here - and kept saying, ‘Why you have a second arboretum here, we never dreamed there was a place like this.’”

Blithewold was horticulturally rich even before the Van Wickle McKees bought the property. The Gardners who owned “Ferry Hill” in the 1800’s probably planted the original Toon and other exotic trees - many of which are still living today. We know Mr. Gardner designed a meticulously kept English style garden with award winning fruit trees and flower and vegetable beds (where the Enclosed Garden is now), and he grew this area’s first orchids in his greenhouses. Clearly he and the Van Wickle McKees were plant junkies just like you (if you’re a gardener) and me.

Plants have been traveling the world with people like us since the dawn of time and non-natives have been usurping space on the land and in our hearts for pretty much ever. How many of us would hurl whole paychecks at Dan Hinkley for just a few choice finds? For a long time though it was probably only naturalists who knew to be alarmed at how the landscape was changing. Now we’re all more aware. Bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus) imported for its festive decorative berries is smothering everything in its path (at least in our part of the world) and invisible hitchhikers like Japanese beetle and Hemlock woolly adelgid came in with nursery stock and have proceeded to decimate whole landscapes. (Did you know that Japanese beetles eat 400 plant species? - Look around an infested garden and you’d guess it was that many.) But we addicts still want-desire-need exotic plants in our gardens and we swear we’ll keep an eye on them and we’ll never ever never let another exotic invasive escape cultivation!

It’s not just the view that’s changed - exotics are taxing the whole system. I’ve been reading Bringing Nature Home - How Native Plants Sustain Wildlife in Our Gardens by Douglas Tallamy and am feeling so conflicted now about what to plant in my own garden that I am certifiably toons. Just ask Gail. I knew there were arguments for using natives in the landscape - we all talk about using the right plant in the right location and what’s better (less maintenance and fuss) than the plant that would have grown there in the first place? But Tallamy makes a convincing argument for planting natives from a bug’s and bird’s and butterfly/moth’s eye view. Our native creepy crawlies have specifically adapted over the millenia to eat specific plants. Sometimes an exotic plant has an edible leaf chemistry but a lot of times, not. Some people might think “but I don’t want bugs eating my garden because then I’ll have to use pesticides for goodness sake!” and this is Tallamy’s retort: “Somehow along the way we have come to expect perfection in our gardens: the plastic quality of artificial flowers is now seen as normal and healthy. It is neither. Instead, it is a clear sign of a garden so contrived that it is no longer a living community, so unbalanced that any life form other than the desired plants is viewed as an enemy and quickly eliminated. … a sterile garden is one teetering on the brink of destruction.” Nature’s own checks and balances kick in when natives are planted - preditors follow the prey. (If you build it they will come.)

I think Tallamy is (and I am) preaching to the choir. We true gardeners know there’s a balance to life and we want our gardens to be with nature, not against it. My head spins because I still feel justified as a gardener/horticulturist working in one of this country’s only coastal arboreta to try new plants as they become available (plus I want them). But I think we’ve got a bounden duty to plant and teach with our natives as well. (And in my own garden I’ll be going toons but probably not growing them.)

Snow snow snow! And a Garden Blogger’s Bloomday (hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens) a day early. I practically wore out the shutter of my little camera taking pics yesterday and today (I think I could smell it smoking…) so here are an end of the week bunch. As always, hover over the pictures for a title and click for a larger view.

If I hadn’t overheard Dan say the cherry was blooming I probably would have missed it! Prunus subhirtella ‘Autumnalis’ blooms a bit in the fall - it’s subtle!- and again in the spring. It seems like our recent cold temps should have nipped it in the bud (so to speak) but even a fairly major snowfall didn’t stop a few from opening. Follow my tracks through the Rose Garden to find this tree.

The Harlequin glory bower (Clerodendrum trichotomum) berries are a bluer blue than my camera captured - you’ll have to come see it for yourself!

The Leucothoe fontanesiana shows up multicolored in the snow.

The pond and Rock Garden are sepia toned.

The Burning bush (Euonymus alatus ‘Compactus’) looks like a nest. And the snow has revealed a nest within the nest.

I didn’t want to tread on the Bosquet’s hem - it’s dressed in its finest winter robe. Sometimes I wish I could hover over the surface and not mess it up with burly boot prints. Other times I want to flop around and make a dozen angels. What do you do with the first snow?

The greenhouse inhabitants are in full winter finery too - this selection in honor of Bloom Day includes stock plants - Cuphea micropetala and Salvia vanhoutii ‘Paul’, a Farfugium japonicum ‘Aureomaculatum’ - not blooming but I love its sunspots!, a Camellia chandlerei that just opened, and two views of a Plectranthus hilliardiae ‘Candelabra’ on the low-light houseplants bench. There are many more bloomers - come by for a coat of color! (The greenhouse door is open weekdays and most weekends between 10 and 4 .)

Yesterday morning and today couldn’t have been more different. Purple drizzle clouds and bitter mist yesterday have moved over for a rime covered sparkle today. Admittedly it was less pleasant walking out in yesterday’s damp rag than today’s crisp apple but if my camera doesn’t lie, both mornings were gorgeous. I thought about “planting for winter interest” as I walked and thought, “is there anything NOT interesting in this winterland?” When we plant for winter interest I think we shoot for things that will be sufficiently pleasing from such a distance that we won’t have to leave our cozy hot chocolate kitchens to enjoy them. Put your mittens on and go outside though and nearly everything has “winter interest”!

Daphne x burkwoodii ‘Carol Mackie’ is a small semi-evergreen shrub that blooms fragrantly in spring and is seeming kind of bloom-like now too! (I should have saved this one for Bloom Day…) The only trouble with Daphnes is that sometimes they just up and die. Even the AHS A to Z says “Mature specimens may die suddenly for no apparent reason”. They’re worth the gamble, says me.

There just aren’t enough good things to say about Clematis ‘Roguchi’. I know I’ve said this already but any plant that blooms spectacular fairy hat indigo blooms all spring, summer and fall and then sports crazy Phyllis Diller seed heads for the winter gets my vote for president. Julie wrote about this superstar in the last newletter (If you join up you’ll receive our excellent newsletter!)

Euonymus alatus (Burning bush, Winged euonymus) is on nearly every invasive list and really shouldn’t be planted where their seeds could be dispersed by birds to fragile woodland. They are highly adaptable thugs that compete with natives (and win). Ours is ‘Compactus’ and is at least 15′ tall and wide and has the most spectacular fall color and facinating twig wings perfectly visible now. It’s no wonder at all that people had to have this shrub and planted it everywhere. Too bad it’s a menace.

I love the branch structure and indented trunk (like owl hideouts) of the Dawn redwood (Metasequoia glyptostroboides) and am facinated as a little kid by deciduous conifers. It’s so wrong it’s right! This tree likes rich well drained soil and full sun, is hardy from Z5-10 and grows plenty tall (AHS says 70-130′).

Another conifer (this one keeps its needles) near the house has an amazing branch structure and was dusted with frost this morning. To fully appreciate the form of Tsuga canadensis ‘Sargentii’ (Sargent’s weeping hemlock) I think you’ve got to be a little rude and look under the skirt. A weeper was grafted onto a non-pendant hemlock stem to give it some height (a leg to stand on).

It seems to me like “winter interest” may be out there whether you’ve planned for it or not! What is winter-interesting in your garden? - and did you plant it because of its “winter interest”?

Stuart over at Gardening Tips ‘n’ Ideas tagged me (me!) for a meme about 8 things for which I’m thankful. Thanks, Stuart! (I think that’s #1)

Yesterday on my walk around the property I decided to look for the shape of winter and although I was intent on *seeing* it, I realized that some of my other senses were raising their hands and saying oo! oo! Pick me! (I’m grateful to have at least 5 senses in full working order)

It might still be technically fall but unlike this time last year (warm through Nov., then a snowflake on the 3rd and warm again), it’s been bitter cold enough to give the ground that firm soft crust that has a little bounce to it. My feet shouted out about that. (thankful now for the insulated boots they complained about over the summer)
The Display Garden needs a little more tidying (thankful that Gail and Julie say it can wait for a warmer day) - the cardoons are still slightly perky but the cement pond has frozen over. The Water Garden pond has frozen over too (thankful we had some rain to fill it a bit again).

One of my favorite things about winter is the peek at fabulous naked branch structure and nature’s own ornaments hung for the season. (thankful for enjoying winter - I didn’t always and it sure helps to pass the time!)

I went right up to the Chinese chestnut for a photo op and - I swear this is a true story - before looking at the tag for the latin name which I had forgotten, I thought “hey this tree is rattling its leaves like castanets!”. Castanea mollisma. You betcha. Castanets are so named because they look like chestnuts, not because they sound like the trees - even though they do. (thankful for learning something new every day)

I have to admit my walk was fairly short - it was cold! - I don’t know how Fred and Dan stand it - they’re out all day long and not wusses like me. I went back to the greenhouse, thawed my cracked fingers and dove right into my kind of winter work. I enjoy greenhouse work (like rejuvenating this maiden hair fern) every bit as much as the garden work of summer and I’m thankful that I get to do the work I think I’m meant to do - with people I’m in awe of - in a public garden that I get to share with the world! (- in a nutshell)

Here’s where I’m supposed to tag others for this meme: I invite any and all who read this to consider yourself “it”. Use the comments box, use your own blog, pass it on!

The Annual Meeting is behind us, the (monthly) Garden Soirees are before us, visitors visit daily and the blooms must go on! I know I’m not the only one who tidies madly at home for invited guests and then slacks off the dusting when it’s just me and mine eating in. At Blithewold though - and any garden open to the public, there’s no napping instead of mowing or sipping iced tea in the adirondacks rather than deadheading! We’re on the “garden tour” every day and it’s important to us and to our guests that the gardens and grounds look well tended. The night of the Annual Meeting was chilly enough to move the party indoors and despite the ominous clouds and bitter wind, several Blithewold devotees wandered the grounds. We (I think I can speak for Julie, Gail, Fred and Dan) were extremely gratified to hear over and over how beautiful the property looks and how well cared for it is. And we were back bright and early the day after to keep at it.

The Florabundas (the Thursday volunteers) who cleaned grape hyacinth out from under the chestnut rose last week, did the same thing on the other side of the Visitor’s Center yesterday. The bed with climbing roses on the west side of the rose garden has been getting more and more concrete-like over the years and we spent the morning forking out weeds and bulbs and working a little air in finally. (The entire Rose Garden definitely has a compaction problem because we stand and walk all over the beds when we tend the roses.)

Today, I’ve been trying to concentrate on getting more plants out of the greenhouse. But just like moving out of a house, I’m not loving this part of the process! I much prefer the part at the end of moving where I get to feng shui the pots around the garden. I also love to groom potted plants and keep getting distracted…

So rather than fight it, here’s some blooms for Garden Blogger’s Bloom Day: The lopsided Styrax - blooming only on the east side. Fred thinks its because of the weird winter or maybe it’s not getting enough sun (there’s a bunch of Styrax’s not blooming at all…)

The Aegopodium is blooming away in the Bosquet. It really is a pretty ground cover but it’s completely obnoxious and invasive – don’t plant it!!!

This is a Persicaria or maybe a Polygonum. Anyone know for sure what it’s called?

One of my new favorites is Allium ‘Hair’. It’s definitely morning monster hair rather than a frenchgirl coif… Gotta love it! (Or do you?)

And for color here’s Papaver atlanticum semiplenum with a busybee.

Finally, not-a-bloom but a beneficial-to-be — a teeny! weeny! praying mantis! (I saved him/her from a spiderweb and it didn’t want to stand still for a portrait - but I insisted.)

A lot of visitors have been asking lately “what’s wrong with the Giant Sequoias?!”

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Blithewold, we have one of - if not the - tallest Sequoiadendron giganteum this side of the Mississippi. Ours is a just a baby, not quite 100 years old and only 90 feet or so tall. It’s definitely a feature on the property - people who don’t notice it rising above the Enclosed Garden asked to be directed to it and just last week I heard that a (must have been very romantic) marriage proposal had occured right under it (and was accepted).

Anyhoo, this winter took a noticeable toll on the tree as well as the dozen other smaller babies on the property. They’re brown! Sequoias are prone to Phytophthera fungi which can destroy terminal growth. But that’s not our problem (knock wood). We suspect instead that it has to do with the bizarre nearly non-winter. Temperatures remained weirdly warm through December and a lot of plants didn’t get properly notified to quit growing for the season. We think that the sequoias had tender growth that was hit by the late but sudden freeze.

They’re starting to green up again so never fear! The big one is still a beauty and well worth a gaze and maybe even another romantic moment…