Is Spring cutting line? Sure feels like it. Here we are in the last stretch of December and it feels like April. The long range forecast assures a balmy Christmas. That might be just fine out in California but in the North-east? The fireplace sits cold and unused and winter jackets still hang fresh from the cleaners. Admittedly, it’s kind of fun to head outdoors without the weight of layers but I’m beginning to get nervous. I’m holding my breath as I await the drop of the other shoe.

Clearly, weather patterns are topsy-turvy. The west is getting all the snow generally reserved for the east. Is Nature messing with our minds? Climate change is very real people! Seems humans are not the only ones confused. Looking around, the garden is showing distinct signs of spring awakening.

When news arrived that the cherry blossoms were in bloom in our nation’s capital, I thought it was a hoax. Like an April Fools joke. But then, as I wandered around the garden and elsewhere, I noticed plants that ought to be dormant bearing nascent buds and/or leaves. Normally, such sights make me insanely happy but at this time, I’m downright alarmed.

What are the immediate consequences? Perhaps some light color from early bloomers like cherry and forsythia will no doubt still put a smile on our faces. It might even be fun to go for spring-like walks in late December. But, where is this taking us? To a forever changed climate pattern in these parts or will winter roar in with a vengeance in January? In either case, what does that imply? Should I go ahead and order crape myrtles that I’ve envied in southern gardens?

A return to the usual winter conditions would kill the emerging growth but perhaps all will not be lost. While there will be some damage and even the loss of certain spring blooms, the plants will rally. They are resilient for the most part. The gardener will simply have to take their cue and stoically carry on with a potentially less than spectacular post-winter show.

However, if we completely forgo a cold season, it’ll wreak havoc. All bloom/fruit time bets are off. Plants that require a spell of hard cold will struggle to stay in character – after all, how can they play their part when the script has been completely changed? Others will bloom too early and who knows what this will do to producing fruit and seeds as the pollinating insects and migratory birds may not be around to do their job.

I’m not as yet aware how this warm weather is affecting animals that hibernate. Are they getting tired or do they have some sort of internal mechanism that compensates and adjusts? Have certain birds delayed their winter sojourn to enjoy these warm days of December? If so, what will happen if the temperatures plummet suddenly? Questions flood my mind as I casually sip my tea seated on the stone bench in the meadow and gaze upon squirrels at play. In December!

Meanwhile, how will we gardeners go about the ministry of our duties? Do I get my usual winter rest or am I to keep going with tasks brought forward per force?
I’m concerned about the myriad bulbs that need the winter to come up properly in spring. I spy the tips of bulbs piercing through the still unfrozen earth. A friend noticed that hyacinth bulbs planted in a pot and kept outdoors were protruding through the soil. So she brought them in and watered the pot. No leaves were put out and only the emergent end of the flower stalk bloomed. In fact, the plant did not grow any further. It merely put forth what it could and called it quits. So sad. Is this what we can expect more of?

To say I’m worried is an understatement. We are currently going through an unsettling period. The four distinct seasons, their arrivals, durations and departures have set the rhythms of our lives. We’ve come to know what to expect and what to do by their timeliness. Our own resilience is now being called upon. Plus our willingness to do our part in coping and caring for this beautiful Earth that is seeing shifts and changes. Some phenomena are natural but there is plenty that we humans have wrought. The answers to my numerous questions will come only in due course.
I’d like very much to hit the ‘Rewind’ button.

On a brighter note, today is the Winter Solstice. An extra minute of daylight every day hence! Use the minutes well – smile at a stranger, write a ‘thinking of you’ note to someone, take deep breaths and calm your mind, drink a glass of water, do some stretches, hug your pet, floss your teeth, read a poem, make a sketch …

Don’t the images below remind you of the start of spring?:

Magnolia

Hydrangea

Vinca

Buddleia

Iris

Climbing hydrangea

(c) 2015 Shobha Vanchiswar

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No doubt with summer at an end, the garden is looking all too blah. I know mine is. It’d look even worse if the fall flowers were not doing their thing by throwing splashes of color to liven up the scene. We’ve grown so accustomed to planting for color that we’ve completely neglected that most dominant of horticultural colors. Yes, the ubiquitous green.

Green comes in so many hues and yet, we lump it as one humdrum ole’ pigment. Such a shame considering we are absolutely starving for it well before winter has called it quits. In spring, the different shades of green are all too apparent. Spring green, sap green, chartreuse green, olive green, blue-green, gray-green, pthallo green, the list goes on. And every single one of those shades is a welcome sight. So what happens as the year goes along? A lot of the plants that started out looking different seem to turn the same type of green.

It simply means one must select more carefully to create a diversity in greens. The choices are plenty. Variegated plants as well as the huge range of plants with foliage of different greens can infuse the garden with enough excitement. Toss in diverse textures and shapes and you have something truly fantastic. We know all of this but often fail to make the effort because we are too focused on other colors. Hence that humdrum look in late summer.

I got to think more on this matter these last couple of days. I’m enjoying a Tuscan vacation and the classical Italianate gardens are pretty much mostly green. And a uniform green at that. The effect is rather soothingly simple and elegant. Occasional spatters of color only serve to emphasize the minimalistic use of it. The gardens focus more on elements like pattern, perspective and positioning. The simplicity is most deceptive as much thought and skill is required to create these gardens. They are the opposite of cottage gardens where anything goes. It isn’t enough to know plants. A good knowledge of mathematics and architecture along with a heightened sense of aesthetics is required. A tall order for us average gardeners. No wonder that style is not so popular today.

But, I think we should revisit the idea that a garden must always have ‘color’. The more I visit the classical gardens in Tuscany, the more appealing they are becoming. There is something very restful and calm in them. For visual interest, think parterre or knot gardens. Not the highly stylized, hard to maintain sorts of beds but the basic patterns of squares and circles outlined in boxwood and a single shrub or tree in the middle. True, the box needs trimming but that would be just a couple of times a year. There’d be no staking or deadheading! The gravel on the paths and within the beds would make mowing and weeding an occasional necessity. The central trees/shrubs could bear flowers and/or fruit. Does this have any appeal to you?

The problem is, such gardens tend to be quite formal in appearance. A far cry from our more informal looking chateaux. But for the duration of my trip, I’m going to indulge in dreaming up an all green, super-simple, elegant garden.

The following images are of the famous Boboli gardens in Florence and one other private garden. While the low borders are of boxwood, the wall-like hedges are of bay laurel! So utterly fitting to this region – a tip of the hat to its Roman history.

I apologize for the poor quality of the photographs as I’m having some technical problems. Will post much nicer ones in future posts!

(c) 2015 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Hard to believe that September is coming to an end. The equinox today, officially declares the end of summer 2015. The weather has only just taken to hinting at autumn days ahead. The leaves, still mostly green, echo my own reluctance to let go of summer. And I’m seriously delinquent in the usual chores of the month.
My ‘Things To Do’ list for Seprember says:

1. Continue weeding.
2. Deadhead. Cut back anything that looks ragged or done for.
3. Mow the lawn less frequently.
4. Water judiciously.
5. Get leaf rakes, leaf bags and keep ready. Fall cometh!
6. Similarly, keep bulb planting stuff like dibbler, bulb food, trowel, spade, etc., handy.
7. Continue harvesting vegetables. Remove plants that have given their all and toss on the compost heap.
8. Stir compost thoroughly.
9. Plant in cool weather vegetables.
10. Check if fall blooming plants such as asters and chrysanthemums need staking.
11. Inspect garden for pests or disease. Take prompt action if detected.
12. As days get shorter, make it a point to enjoy the garden as much as possible.

Of those dozen action items, I’m only following through on #s 4 and 12 most judiciously.
All summer long we’ve bemoaned the lack of rain. Too dry too long. Not willing to see my precious garden perish from thirst, watering deliberately and daily has been de rigueur. Hence, there remains a semblance of verdancy but don’t be fooled. The plants are struggling. If this near drought situation continues, all our gardens will be in peril.

Weeding seems to be a distant memory. A heavily guilty one at that. It has been either too hot to bother or I’ve been traipsing around checking out gardens in other lands. The latter is a sound way to avoid that chore. Gives me an air of scholarly interest whilst shirking my duties. I’m hoping the weeds will simply go away. I know what you’re thinking and I agree – I’m delusional.

Coming back to # 12, I’m most certainly enjoying the garden: mine as well as several others. Doing very little has advantages. Wandering through foreign lands, admiring plants I cannot grow has renewed my appreciation of those that thrive in my neck of the woods. I’m also inspired to focus harder on supporting native plants and sustainable practices.
As for all those other to-do items, they must wait a tad longer. I have a bit more immediate wandering to do. Tuscany, here I come!

Here are some images from my summer wanderings:

Singapore:

Amsterdam:

Heather

Vermont:

Chicago:

(c) 2015 Shobha Vanchiswar

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