As The Year Comes To An End

 

 

With the winter solstice having just passed and the new year approaching, there’s a sense of reflection and renewal. It is that time when one looks at the year gone by and moves to the one ahead. In that vein, I offer you this poem:

 

Minute By Minute

 

Light lingers

minute by minute

Hope grows

minute by minute

 

As seasons pass

through birth and death

The cycle closes

And then starts again

 

Earth warms

minute by minute

Sun climbs

minute by minute

 

Calenders marked

with future plans

Days to meet

And then look back upon

 

Live purposefully

minute by minute

Make it matter

minute by minute.

(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2012

Just In Time For Gift Giving – Book Review

The Unexpected Houseplant by Tovah Martin

In the interest of full disclosure, I have, for a couple of decades at least, been a fan of Ms. Martin’s writings. I have a deep respect for her work. Tovah and I have met. She wrote a wonderful article about my garden in Westchester magazine in 2010 (Less Is More by Tovah Martin). So, by no means is this an unbiased review. However, since nobody asked me to write about this book, I had no reason to do so if I didn’t actually like it. I purchased the book because I’ve appreciated Martin’s previous books. Then I went through it. Now I want to shout from the roof top – Go get a hold of this book! It is sumptuous. Pretty and practical, making it a must read. Give a copy to a friend.

Tovah is a lyrical writer. She liberally and cleverly sprinkles Latin names of plants as though that’s how everybody speaks, and sneaks in horticultural wisdom in the guise of anecdotal stories.The reader emerges feeling not only smarter but quite inspired to follow her ideas and suggestions.

The Unexpected Houseplant really is about the unexpected. To dig up something from the garden and bring it in to cheer up the dark winter days might not be novel. But, did it ever occur to you to bring in a clump of euphorbia? That certainly never occurred to me. The very vision of the chartreuse green bracts punching up the winter’s gray is delightful. Similarly, one is encouraged to try other perennials indoors. Just for the season. Using the garden as a sort of horticultural lending library appeals to me enormously.

How best to show the plants off is demonstrated beautifully in the photographs. The right container makes all the difference. Each plant specimen is treated as an individual, and placed in what serves it uniquely. Much artistic thought has gone into this. I’m left feeling a bit envious of Martin’s collection. Yet, I’m sure if I looked around my house, I’m likely to find unexpected, imaginative planters.

With lots of advice and information, this is a good book to learn about enjoying plants in the house. It takes a fresh look on the subject. I’m all set to add to my indoor plant collection and get through the winter with patience, joy and grace.

IMG_7890(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2013

 

Surreptitious Solitude

Have you been collecting all the seed and plant catalogs arriving in the mail? Printing out ideas you come across while surfing the web? And tearing out pages from magazines that display your dream gardens? I have. They all go into a folder where they await temptingly. That is what I like to call my fantasy folder. Typically, I save it till mid to late January just when winter seems to drag on and on.

In this digital age when almost everything I do is on-line, I prefer the actual paper collection of material. I find it easier to lay out the pages or parts thereof to get a full design. Marking ideas or comments aids me in how I create. I like spreading things out to think things through. But if you’d much rather have everything on your gadget of choice, then by all means do so. Whatever works. I myself get too distracted when on the Internet. I find it too easy to get side tracked. Then before I know it, a whole lot of time has gone wasted.

What I’ve discovered is that the catalogs are perfect escapes when one is caught up in the frenetic and stressful pace of December. Even those of us who are more simple in our approach to the holidays, feel the pressure of the season. Baking, cards, gifts, recitals, parties, decorating, year end reviews, tips and bonuses …. the list goes on. Taking a breather is easier said than done.

So I’ve come up with a way to escape mentally even as I’m surrounded by the merry madness. I carry a couple of seed/plant catalog with me. I go through them whenever I have to wait in line or for an appointment, in the train/plane, before a child’s recital or any place I need some quite time. To others I look like I’m shopping for gifts. Very apropos don’t you think?

As I thumb through the pages, I have taken myself to a different season and sometimes to a different place altogether. I imagine perfect gardens. I dream of growing plants that wouldn’t survive where I actually live. I lose myself in fantastical horticultural pursuits. Then, suddenly the lights in the auditorium dim and I’m back in the moment feeling nicely refreshed. And that’s not all. I have actually made a few notes, started a list, ear marked certain pages for more leisurely and realistic planning. Progress has been made. And no one’s the wiser about my unseasonal anti-social behavior.

Time very well spent I’d say.

Enjoy the photographs that bring spring to mind:

Amaryllis


Hellebores – harbingers of spring


Tulips


Early spring plantings in potager


A “garden” chair


Meyer lemons in the greenhouse


(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2012

To Forgive Is Divine. And To Forget?

As I’ve said many times before, the garden is my teacher. A life coach of the highest order. On par with any TED talk and that is giving high praise indeed. Gardening keeps me on the straight and narrow. It’s how I communicate and stay connected to the Universe.

Following on the heels of Thanksgiving when gratitude was very much acknowledged, I’ve been thinking a great deal about forgiveness. Mostly because it is something I struggle with. The minor, petty annoyances are easy to forgive but it’s the hurt caused by those who matter to me that demand that in which I find myself sadly deficient. I’d like to think all of us are born this way because there is comfort in not being alone. Yet, it’s up to each of us to learn to forgive routinely and in our own unique way. To some, pardoning comes with an enviable grace. The Amish community that immediately forgave the shooter who killed several of their dear ones comes to mind. To others it does not seem to be of much importance whatsoever. Those are the same ones who are perfectly comfortable stopping at a soup kitchen because the food is free and then proceed to the movies in a cab. And then there are those like me who must consciously and deliberately work to conquer their baser instincts.

There is well documented evidence that the act of forgiving lowers the blood pressure as well as the heart rate. That in itself is good motivation. However, it is so much more beneficial than that. By getting rid of negative emotions and grudges, life can be lived to it’s fullest. By shedding oneself of such energy saboteurs, we are at liberty to move forward and achieve amazing things. Like everything else in my life, I’ve turned to the garden to provide guidance. It teaches by example. Does that sound absurd to you? It did to a friend to whom I’d mentioned it. But, the garden did not let me down.

In this situation, I became acutely aware of how often my botanical haven has forgiven my own transgressions. When I’ve failed in providing adequate water during a particularly brutal summer, it did not die on me. Instead, it slowed its growth and still managed to reward me with flowers and food.
Each year when I go away on vacation, the weeds exploit my absence. They crowd out young plants, suffocate others and prevent still others from receiving enough sunlight. So much so that on my return home, I venture into the garden with a good degree of trepidation. What I never fail to be amazed by is how valiantly the legitimate plants have coped. Once I start removing the offending weeds, the plants waste no time in returning to the business of productivity. There is no sulking, no tantrum or recrimination.

When I inadvertently trample on a plant and render it decapitated, there is no reproach. Quietly it senses that my guilt is enough punishment and patiently strives to grow anew. I have made so many horticultural mistakes and caused so much harm over the years and still the garden has been steadfast as teacher and friend. I’ve received gifts of such value that no price can be placed. Its as though the care I’ve tried to give over the years is remembered and appreciated while past misadventures are forgotten. So if all my abuse, albeit unintended, can be forgiven, surely I too can try and pay that lesson forward?

It’s always harder to do whats right or good. Applying organic practices is more time consuming. Eating healthy is more expensive. A diet that is largely plant based requires more preparatory work.Trying to do good is fraught with hurdles. Ever noticed that? Composting takes more effort than tossing everything in the garbage. Recycling has one cleaning and removing labels first. To think kindly of a difficult person is a real effort and its easier to think bad. Likewise being environmentally conscious. I’ve often wondered if it’s the Universe’s way of testing us to see how earnest we are in our intentions. That’s why it is so hard to get folk to do whats right consistently. Think about it. Turning the other cheek is easier said than done.

Therefore, I’m really going to take my cues from my forgiving garden. My first step was to take a big deep breath and as I exhaled, I forgave the rascally squirrels that ate every single fruit in the garden this year. I will no longer question their motive in knocking down unripe fruit and barely taking a nibble. You know what? It actually lightened my mood. Letting go of grudges is hugely freeing. It opened up spaces within as though my heart just got bigger. I’m working on the Japanese beetles that decimated several plants as well as a couple of humans who behaved no better with me.

In this feel good season of gratitude and kindness, do give forgiveness a try. It’ll be a rather nice way to ease into the new year. A proper fresh start in many ways. Please do tell me about your experiences and how and what works for you. I really want to know.

Will I now forget as well? Lets not get carried away. One self-improvement at a time please.

Lilies 2011 or Lillies BJB (Before Japanese Beetles)

Lilies 2012 or Lilies ABJ (After Japanese Beetles)

Echinacea 2011 or Echinacea BBJ

Echinacea 2012 ABJ

Foliar damage by Japanese Beetles

Apples BS (Before Squirrels). There’s no AS!!

Pears BS.

(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2012

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my all time favorite holiday. Primarily because that is all it is about. No presents, cards or commercial hoopla. Just gathering with family and/or friends to break bread and be appreciative of each other and life in general. Nothing more, nothing less. To give thanks is to be aware of what is going on in one’s life. To be present and mindful of everything that is happening, be they wonderful or difficult, gives perspective to where we are, how we got here and where we might choose to go. For this we are thankful.

For myself, working in the garden, being close to nature offers constant guidance to staying mindful. The seemingly small miracles teach big lessons. Diligent work such as regular weeding and tidying not only cleans up the garden but the labor also weeds out the negative thoughts and feelings I might have felt at the outset. The sowing of seeds and planting of bulbs remind me that it takes just a little worthwhile effort to create beauty in the world. The help I receive from the birds and insects to grow this garden teaches me that we achieve great things when we work together. The risks a bird takes to raise her young tell me that despite the naysayers I too can take that leap of faith to do what I believe is right.

Through gardening I know that it is okay to make mistakes and the universe always gives more than one chance to make things right. The past is over, how I live today is up to me and that will determine the future. Events such as the squirrels devouring all the fruit or the weather ruining expectations serve to keep me humble with the knowledge that forces greater than me are in control. What choices I make in how and what I use to make this garden thrive, directly affect how I thrive. In essence, nature is my ever abiding teacher that keeps me centered and points me to my true north.
For this invaluable gift I am forever grateful.

My wish for you is that you always have plenty to be thankful.

————————-
Response to a much asked query:

Who is responsible when a tree belonging to one person falls and/or damages the property of another?

Given recent events, this has been a dilemma faced by many.
The matter is complicated. By law, as I understand it, the tree owner is liable only if he/she was negligent. That is, the tree posed a clear danger, was diseased and therefore weak in health, was warned about the likelihood of it falling etc., but the owner failed to follow up. Otherwise, the person on whose property the tree fell is responsible for tree removal and any damage caused. It was simply “an act of God” type of incident.
This clearly does not seem very fair and it is because the law was set when we were still a mostly rural country. As we got more urbanized and houses were built in closer proximity, the problem is not so easily addressed.
The insurance carrier might be called and, depending on the circumstances, they might pay a part of the expenses. However, when a natural disaster places them in a very costly situation, pressing them for certain things puts the policy holder in a position of either not having the policy renewed or having the deductible raised in the future.
Litigation might seem like a natural course of action for some people. But really? Does one truly want to have conflict with the neighbor next door? Is this the best we can do? What happens if the law that favors the tree owner is upheld? There are always big consequences to suing anybody.
In my view, the best approach is for both parties to split the cost of tree removal and repairs. I’m not saying this is simple. After all, it might not be within a person’s means to shell out what can be a large sum of money. But I have confidence that if one keeps an open mind, is non-judgmental and willing to negotiate, then both parties can come to an amicable solution. Calm and rationale must prevail. It can be an excellent teaching moment for the next generation as well as other neighbors.
I know of two neighbors who came up with a creative answer. One paid the whole bill while the other tutored the first one’s twins in math for a whole year.
If we can resolve such problems in an intelligent, considerate and cooperative way, maybe then we can really think that world peace is a realistic possibility.

A visiting Tom.

(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2012

 

 

 

 

We The People

When mighty trees lie strewn like fallen heroes, it unsettles our minds, shocks our senses and disrupts our lives. We mourn their demise and our loss. Amongst the non-humans dearest to us,trees are perhaps only second to pets.

The question I’ve been asking myself most since hurricane Sandy passed this way has been – what more could we have done? With no power, heat, phone or Internet to distract me, I’ve had a lot of time to ask questions and think about such matters. Several days worth of time.

It was all very well to wait for the necessary people to come and set things right, to rail at the powers that be for not getting my life back in order and complain about the hardship of being cold even under several layers of fleece to anyone even remotely willing to listen but what could I have done to lessen the impact of such an event?

First and foremost, let me tell you what I did do. I took care of all pending chores in the garden. Okay, not all by myself. I did have family doing their fair share. In the end, the huge number of bulbs got planted, leaves were raked, perennials cut back, beds mulched, outdoor furniture put away, tender plants moved into the greenhouse, wayward limbs of roses secured, espalier pruned and window box plants (in liners) brought in. Anything that had the potential of becoming airborne was either weighted down or put away. The list seemed endless and the work was done at a somewhat frenetic pace. It got done because I had a list of what needed doing. So do forgive me if I sound somewhat smug. Nobody else (read that as certain people who live with me) has given me any credit for being organized. I don’t do things for accolades but an occasional gold star wouldn’t hurt. However, I remain optimistic.

Fortunately, except for some small branches and twigs, no harm was done to home or garden. I’m immensely grateful for that. Others did not fare so well. When you sit back to assess the damages, the majority of cases were the result of fallen branches and whole trees. Almost all those power losses were directly due to the lines being brought down by trees. How might we have changed this outcome?

We all agree that trees are priceless. Their uses are numerous not the least of which is preventing soil erosion that can become a serious problem in storms and heavy rains. So it’s not a matter of whether we need trees. It’s a matter of which trees to plant and where to plant them.

In a bid for instant gratification, so many ‘fast growing’ trees are planted that nurseries are full of them. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again, fast growing means shallow roots. These are the first trees to come down in a storm. It does not take much of a storm to accomplish that. Look around and you’ll see that most of the trees strewn all over are of that fast growing class.

Whatever happened to stewardship of the land? Our founding fathers, particularly Thomas Jefferson, exemplified that practice. Are we not obligated to do our bit? Or are we to think of that instant ‘privacy screen’ of evergreen trees as more important? Or how about that charming and impulsive idea of buying live Christmas trees and planting them each year in an orderly row at the edge of the property up close to the street and well below the power lines– they look so cute and evoke warm memories of holidays past. Those trees grow tall and stop looking so cute very quickly. Especially when one or more are tipped over by the likes of hurricane Sandy, or Floyd or Katrina or Hugo or Irene. Down come power lines with those trees. The rest you know. If privacy from the street or neighbor is needed, think instead about clipped hedges or Belgian espalier fences. Maintained at a height of six to eight feet either will serve the purpose handsomely. Or consider trees that don’t grow so tall. There are in addition, dwarf varieties of several favourites.

So okay, we stop planting shallow rooted, fast growing trees close to houses and other buildings and stay clear of power lines. What next?

We now consider the American oaks both red and white, river birchs, yellow poplars, sycamores, elms, red maples and similar stalwarts of this continent. These are the trees to plant! For posterity and majesty. Future generations will thank us as they linger in their shade, play on a swing suspended from one of the sturdy branches, picnic beneath their canopy or simply sit back against a wide trunk and feel content. Again, these too do not belong near houses or power lines because they get too big and their branches can cause harm should they break. Place them where they can rise tall and proud with limbs that spread wide like a giant embrace. Where you can watch them grow and where your children and eventually grandchildren can see them at their best.

A very critical factor in choosing a tree is the height and breadth to which it will finally grow. Tall, wide trees are fine as long as they do not overpower its surroundings. Keep it in balance. Think about the other plants, shrubs, vines and surrounding structures. They must relate to each other.

Trees make shade and therefore shade loving plants get planted around it. If you like the morning sun streaming into your kitchen then, don’t place a big tree on that side. Smaller trees like dogwood or dwarf fruit trees might be more appropriate. Harsh afternoon heat can be dissipated by well positioned trees on the southern side of the property. These same trees if deciduous, will permit warming light in winter when all the leaves are gone. You see? There are indeed right and wrong places for trees.

Trees are not maintenance free. They need water, nutrients and space to grow strong and healthy. Sometimes, they require cabling to give proper stability. Like us, trees age. So it’s important to periodically examine the health of the trees. Rot and disease are not always apparent so the best way to do this is to get a tree expert. He/she will know to read early signs in a dying or diseased tree and prescribe the appropriate action. If several neighbors got together and hired such an expert, it would be very cost effective. A tree in my neighborhood took down power lines in the previous two storms. The branches broke each time. Finally, Sandy uprooted the tree entirely and its now been many days without electricity, heat, phone and Internet. If the owners to whom the tree belonged had had the tree seen by a tree expert after the first storm, then perhaps we would have been spared the frustration we felt. I bear no malice to the owners. We are all guilty of such oversights. But perhaps this can be a valuable lesson for the future.

Finally, in preparation for the next storm, and it will come, can we make a concerted effort to scan our properties and neighborhood to identify all the potential problems? And in true community spirit, lets help each other trim, prune, cut down and clean up. Then perhaps we can look forward to fewer loss of trees and power and maybe less casting of blame on elected officials, power companies and tree services. Personal responsibility goes a long way in making for a thriving, successful democracy. Its for the people, of the people and by the people remember? Besides, raise your hand if you’d like to stop hearing your children whining about yet another day without heat, television, phone and Internet.

I’m not absolving local, state or federal authorities of their responsibilities. But, we get to vote them in or out of office. There is nobody checking on our own responsibilities. Except our conscience. And that fallen icon whose fate was sealed the day it was planted.

Dwarf apple trees

An old cedar

Clipped hedges in Piet Oudolf’s garden.

An ancient olive.

A study in white.

History on record.

Wood and stone.

(c) Shobha Vanchiswar 2012

 

Beaten By Bulbs

Its still a tad warmer than it ought to be at this time of year. So I was hesitant about planting my 750 spring blooming bulbs. Timing is everything. Too early and they start putting out shoots right away; too late and the ground is frozen solid. In the past, I’ve always planted round about now. I did spot a solitary woolly worm ( caterpillar of the tiger moth) but couldn’t remember what the brown band meant at that time. Only later did I recall that a narrow brown band means a harsh winter. The one I saw bore a band almost half the length of the worm. I’ll make up my mind about this prediction in March 2013. Uncertain of when it might get properly cold, I decided to take the risk and go ahead. Besides, my able bodied albeit reluctant helpers (husband and progeny) were free to assist. Like I just said – timing is everything.

Each year the planting gets harder. A rather harsh reminder of aging body parts. Whilst sorting the somewhat large number of bulbs for the respective areas of the somewhat small garden, I was appalled not only by the greed that had prompted this order but also how insane I’d been to take on such a project. I never learn. Like childbirth, I forget the pain and giving no consideration to budget or aforesaid aging body, I keep repeating this laborious project.

First, I set up my helpers with their stash of bulbs and assigned them their areas in the ‘meadow’. Over the years they know what to do. Still, not wanting to take chances, I  gently remind them that each bulb goes in to a depth three times it’s size (and ignore the teenager rolling her eyes). I treat my aides very kindly because as one well knows, good help is hard to come by. Frankly, I cannot dream of planting the bulbs without their assistance. I am careful however to not mention this as I’m afraid they might demand better work conditions and actual salaries. I myself have the toughest area in which to sink in the bulbs. The two perennial beds in front are a challenge as they are chock full of perennials and bulbs from previous years. The odds of hitting a spot already safekeeping a bulb are very high. I’m understandably nervous about rendering a body blow to a precious allium, crocus, hyacinth, ornithogalum, galanthus, muscari, lily, anemone blanda or camassia. Then there’s the fact that I have to dig each hole while contorting my body unnaturally so as not to step on the ornamental grass, asters, monkshoods and sedums currently in bloom and at the same time avoid the frenzied bees swarming around to siphon nectar from said plants. Its like I’m playing a version of Extreme Twister by myself.

The shipment of bulbs

Apportioned bulbs.

Teenager at work. Warms my heart!

Counter-intuitive as it may seem, I’ve decided that its harder to work with the very small bulbs. Easy enough to make the holes but grasping and placing these bulbous miniatures right side up is not so simple. I think little children should be put to work for this task. Their small hands are perfectly suited. Small bulb planting in exchange for some ice-cream sounds pretty commensurate don’t you think? Plus they get to relieve some pent up energy and breathe all the fresh air their young lungs can take. And in the spring, they can be very proud of the beautiful flowers for which they were responsible. I fantasize about starting a business of hiring out well trained youngsters. I could be the equivalent of a modern day, reformed Fagin. Its productive thoughts like these that keep me plugging away.

Finally, the bulbs are all in. A thick layer of compost to function as both fertilizer and mulch is applied all over the beds. I am done! However, the worst is yet to come in oh, about twelve to fourteen hours. That’s when muscles I forget about all year long decide to express themselves. Bending, the act of sitting, walking up or down an incline or stairs are all excruciatingly painful. To make matters worse, every groan elicits laughter from those home grown helpers of mine. They appear unscathed and annoyingly perky. Maybe I’m treating them much too well.

Parrot tulip and camassia. From last spring.

More bulbs in perennial bed.

The meadow in spring.

—————-

Tips for still green tomatoes:
If the weather shows promise of staying warm for a few days longer, remove the leaves shading the unripe fruits. This will allow more sunlight on them and hasten the ripening.
Alternatively, pluck the green tomatoes and wrap each one in newspaper. Store these ‘packages’ in a single layer making sure they’re not touching, in a cool, dry place. The tomatoes will ripen in a few days. Check periodically so they don’t spoil.
Finally, there is always the delicious option of making fried green tomatoes. Yum!

—————–

As I’m getting ready to put this post up, we’re battening down the hatches in preparation for Hurricane Sandy. I don’t mind the end of season garden chores as they needed doing anyway – just not in such a frenzied hurry. But all that could be done is done. With still so many leaves on the trees, I fervently hope the storm is not as bad as the predictions. Lets all keep our fingers crossed and think positive thoughts. Stay safe!

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

 

Love At First Sight

Have you ever had the experience of encountering a place that immediately finds a home in your heart? When you feel inspired and energized by the promise it holds? On the morning of October 5, 2012, thats exactly what happened to me. That was the day I was introduced to Untermyer Gardens in Yonkers, NY.

Until a year and a half ago, I had never even heard of the place. Then my friend and horticulturist extraordinaire Timothy Tilghman, took up a job there. I was made aware that the garden had flourished in the early half of the last century and then went into serious decline. It was all but forgotten while weeds smothered the place and vandals went about wrecking it. I hoped Timothy knew what he had accepted. It wasn’t just the job of maintaining this garden but he had to first bring it to life. Thats more than mere application of horticultural knowledge. It takes great vision, curiosity and passion.

Through mutual friends and mainstream media coverage, I followed Timothy’s spectacular progress at Untermyer. I kept intending to visit but life has a habit of getting in the way and it wasn’t till this particular October Friday that I finally got there. On this bright, beautiful day, Timothy waited to show me his ‘baby’.

There is plenty in the archives to give the original plans and making of the original gardens that Mr. Untermyer himself oversaw and created. So I shall not go into the history and other details. But I strongly recommend that one go to the website www.untermyergardens.org. to learn more as well as to see photographs of then and now. I assure you it is worth the time and effort. What I want to convey here is my personal response to this garden.

Spying the walled garden through the tall doors set in a high, crenelated wall is a real tease. One is lured in. It is entirely possible that on entering this garden and seeing the Persian/Mogul inspired design, my own Indian heritage influenced how much at home I felt. It was as though I was visiting an old royal garden in northern India. But it was more than that. It felt right. Perched across from the Palisades, overlooking the Hudson river, this garden was situated carefully and deliberately. The designer had known exactly what he was doing. Which brings home the point that for a garden to be a true success, it must not only be laid out well but it must be assigned to the appropriate site.

The plantings are just lovely. Dramatic and yet, they do not compete with the strong bones of the garden. Even in restoration, a garden must evolve. Timothy has selected plants that are visually really attractive. On closer inspection they reveal how clever he has been in his choices. The Japanese hollies with New Guinea impatiens bordering the water canals are spot on. Elsewhere, he’s used plants that are hard working and easily obtained. Anybody can try these plants in their own gardens. I got the distinct feeling Mr. Untermyer would’ve approved.

And thats what makes Untermyer such a wonderful classroom for all gardeners. The original plans are available to show how the owner along with landscape architect/designer Welles Bosworth created the various gardens with care and purpose. There are photographs and other information available for study and they provide a wealth of answers to the myriad questions that Timothy must ask in order to restore all of the gardens to their former state of glory. His progress will be instructive at so many levels.

After showing me around the walled garden and allowing me sufficient time to drool over it as well as the mosaic pool set just below to its side, Timothy led me on a horticultural adventure. The initial discovery of various ruins and debris after clearing decades of overgrowth had been absolutely thrilling for him. Now he could match photographs to actual locations on the property. His joy in showing me all of what he has unearthed and what still remains to be done was contagious. Whether it was the authentic Roman pillars or the old carriage trail or the rose arbors or where the daffodil drifts explode in spring or the Temple of Love, I was caught up in the excitement of coming upon the remains and envisioning them at the height of their times. This was history, archeology, architecture, horticulture and The Secret Garden all rolled into one exhilarating experience.

An astounding amount of work still remains to be done but what has already been achieved is just as impressive. Here is a garden brimming with such potential and possibilities. It absolutely must be restored or we will lose one of our nation’s great gardens.

There is an Untermyer Conservancy to which donations can be made. And while one waits for funds to roll in and the work to be done, word about this treasure must go out, visitors should come and all together we can bring this garden back to the way it ought to be. We owe this to ourselves and to generations ahead.

I’m already planning future visits when I can paint en plein air while at the same time acquire new gardening wisdom.

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

Entrance to the walled garden

Into the garden

The view of the Palisades from the walled garden

The temple

The mosaic work

Roman pillars

To gardens yet to be restored

A viewing place. There used to be a waterfall here.

With Timothy Tilghman

In Every Gardener Resides Pollyanna

Once again, its time to start putting the garden to bed. Sigh. Looking at spent up plants, fallen leaves and worn out lawns, I’m acutely reminded of the long, dark winter months ahead. I’m overcome with a sense of sadness and a reluctance to let go of light cast days of summer. I regret the time wasted by shirking duties in the garden. When I escaped too quickly into the air-conditioned comfort of the house mumbling the excuse of wilting in the humidity. Why instead, didn’t I accept that it was okay to sit outside and still not do the chores? At least the pleasures of the outdoors could have been indulged. But no, I could not look the garden in the eye when I failed to tend it properly and so I skulked away. What a loss of good summer hours.

With the heavy heart of one saying goodbye to a very dear friend, I start on my chores. Soon, I’m filled with optimism and anticipation of our next encounter only a few months away. I’m suddenly aware that the tasks themselves are full of promise.

Consider the seed pods ripening on the stems. While they dry and make percussion music in the breeze, they hold everything to make more plants for the next time around. Tomorrow will offer abundance. I harvest the pods and tuck them away in labeled envelopes till its time to awaken them at the end of winter. Already, I’m planning exactly when each type of seed will be started. My heart beats a wee bit faster.

Cutting back the perennials and pulling up the annuals allows me the satisfaction that comes from cleaning and tidying. The perennials go dormant and I imagine them replenishing their energy to emerge again in the spring full of vim and vigor for yet another year of giving joy.

Dividing perennials like peonies and irises at this time provides the opportunity to expand the garden with more of what I love. I add other treasures from the nursery. When I’m finished, it doesn’t look like much but I know that after the winter, the garden will come alive bigger and better than before. My heart beats even faster. I’m smiling as though its already spring.

Planting a tree in itself is an act of faith. Particularly if it is a tree that grows slowly and grows big. I myself may not be there to see it in its fullness but future generations will and that is reason enough to invest in tomorrow. Someone down the road will be grateful for this gift from the past. The thrill I feel is akin to secretly leaving May baskets for neighbors. Such fun.

Even as I gather the freshly raked leaves, I’m thinking about the rich compost they will make to feed the plants next growing season. That thought permits my arms and shoulders to bear the aches and soreness as a badge of honor and continue the work with renewed vigor. Optimism is a powerful motivator.

The bulbs I ordered in mid-summer have arrived just in time for fall planting. Innocuous brown packages in a variety of sizes. Its just incredible that they contain what will become some of the most beautiful sights of spring and summer. To hold a bulb in my hand is to hold a miracle. Now my heart is truly aflutter. I’m positively ecstatic.

The fall offers up a chance to do over parts of the garden or even the entire garden. Its as though past mistakes are forgiven, new chances to try something different are presented.
Suddenly I’m attacking my chores with enthusiasm and ardor. I savor the colors of autumn and inhale the crisp, cool air. I feel truly alive. A new energy has infused my spirit and the winter ahead is no longer dreaded. I’ll use up that season with garden dreams and plans. And I’ll wait with restrained impatience for spring. I see hope, potential and possibilities everywhere. Pollyanna lives!

I cut the last of the ‘Heritage’ rose and bring the fragrant flowers to cherish indoors. The first frost is expected tonight.


Newly arrived bulbs


Planting time


Ginko in the fall

Milkweed seed pod
Milkweed seed pod

Last roses of summer
Last roses of summer

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar

Things To Do This Month

  1. Continue patrolling for weeds. As long as there is no frost, the weeds will keep thriving.
  2. Get lawns freed of thatch and reseeded.
  3. Start planting bulbs for spring once weather gets properly cold but before ground freezes. Usually end of October and early November is the ideal time.
  4. Get rakes, leaf bags and such ready for tackling fall leaves. I leave some leaves for mulch but still need to rake a good deal. Raked leaves are deposited on a compost pile in the woods.
  5. Begin cutting back perennials and clean up garden beds.
  6. Fall is the season to plant most perennials. Divide and replant or purchase new ones.
  7. Secure climbers like roses so limbs are not damaged in winter storms. At this time, remove all dead wood.
  8. This is a good time to take inventory and see what needs to be repaired, replaced, renewed or redone. Think plants such as shrubs and trees, paths, walls, patio furniture, trellises and arbors. Schedule what gets done now or can wait till spring. Knowing what needs doing, what is required, how long it takes and how much it costs goes a long way. Otherwise, it gets overwhelming. And often, over-budget.
  9. Enjoy the autumn flowers and colors. My asters are currently running riot and make me smile .  I’ve also been bringing in hydrangea for dry arrangements. A big bunch in a large, white ironstone pitcher makes a simple and dramatic statement.

 
Aerating the Lawn
Aerating the Lawn
Autumn running amok!
Autumn running amok!
asters
asters
Setting for a fall feast
Setting for a fall feast

(c) 2012 Shobha Vanchiswar