citrus | Seeds of Design

I firmly believe that over the years, both garden and gardener need to evolve. We must keep up with the time as new horticultural introductions come to light, the latest scientific understanding shows us how to adjust or alter the way we garden, climate change forces us to adapt to different conditions, our age insists we seek to downsize, get some extra pair of hands or simplify our gardens. Our aesthetics and preferred styles evolve. We lose plants to weather related crises, pests or owns own negligence. The point is, it is up to us to determine how well we ourselves grow and consequently, how our gardens do so as well. With the right attitude, it is an exciting process. After all, maintaining a status quo is not only humdrum and tedious but can be detrimental. Without actively making positive change, taking a chance on trying something new, welcoming opportunities and enjoying the progress that is made, one is in peril of letting the world pass us and our gardens by.

For me, February is the ideal time to think about ways I can tweak my garden to make it more interesting and/or exciting. Sometimes the tweak can be substantial as was when I decided to create the vertical garden or something much smaller as in the case of having a ‘display’ by the curb to give passers by something to lift their mood as they drive or walk by. In any event, I derive enormous pleasure from it all and inevitably learn so much as well.

This year, I’m dreaming of creating a proper collection of citrus plants. Mostly varieties of lemons with some types of oranges in the mix. Nothing too ambitious as there is much to understand. For some years now, I’ve been successfully growing calamondin oranges, Meyer lemons and regular lemons. They all live in pots that go into the greenhouse each winter. In addition, after seeing the hardy orange (suitable for my neck of the northeast) at the NYBG, I acquired 3 very young trees of the same from Hortus Gardens. One day, when they’ve reached a reasonable size, I will have to find them a suitable site in my tiny garden. They’re slow growers so that time is a few years away. But already in my mind’s eye I can see this trio looking mighty fine in their fullness.

My source of inspiration and motivation is a book I’m currently reading. ‘The Land Where Lemons Grow’ is one that must be read slowly in order to fully appreciate the history of citrus cultivation in Italy. I’m picking up several nuggets of wisdom and simultaneously escaping from the harsh winter here to the romance of Italy. I’m savoring this book as one does a fine glass of chilled limoncello.

Soon I will research and source types of citrus I’d like to grow. Consider my budget before placing orders, acquire appropriately lovely pots and then, launch into squeezing a ‘lemon house’ in my already crowded piece of paradise. That last one could be a pipe dream but why should that stop me from dreaming anyway?

My juices are definitely flowing.

Note: All fruit (except the 3 showing the NYBG hardy orange and label towards the end) in the following images were homegrown!

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February 2 marks the mid-point of winter – it falls in the middle of the winter solstice and the spring equinox. That’s correct, we’ve just passed the halfway mark. It was marked by a spectacular sunset. February 2 is also called Candlemas day – that’s when, in the very old days before electricity, folks would replenish their supply of candles to illuminate the rest of the cold, dark season. The candles would be blessed at a special mass. As a secular individual, I find this tradition comforting. It unites people in the effort to pass the season well.

I’m definitely not a fan of Groundhog’s Day. In my opinion, it only serves to highlight a time when humans applied superstition and not science to drive our actions. The very thought of rudely disturbing a sleeping creature to emerge out into the still cold day strikes me as particularly cruel and archaic. If it were me instead of some vulnerable groundhog, I’d be mad as hell. Wouldn’t you?

Having emerged from a week of polar vortex shenanigans, this halftime feels really good. The temperatures on Sunday and Monday shot up to spring like numbers. While I’m not complaining ( it was delicious to feel the sun as I walked around the garden sans jacket), that spike in temperature is cause for some concern.

We’re slowly settling into more seasonable temperature. Hallelujah.

Taking advantage of the weather on Sunday, I spent some time wandering around the garden searching for signs of rebirth. Coming out of a deep freeze, there were still patches of ice in an otherwise brown, lackluster landscape. But on closer examination, I spotted some encouraging indications of the season to come. Then I noticed small bulbs lying scattered around the ‘meadow’ – the freezing and thawing had thrown them up from their comparatively shallow homes in the ground. Said ground is frozen hard at present so I cannot replace the bulbs. Instead, they shall remain in a pot of soil until the great thaw occurs. I’m a tad unhappy with this situation. Those small bulbs bloom early and are crucial to my vision of how this area rolls out the flowers so, I resent this casual tossing behavior with no regard for the investment of time, money and energy on my part. Oh well. I remain at Nature’s mercy.

The hellebores are also beginning to stir. Slowly. The new growth is still working up courage to get going. I love feeling the surge of anticipation in my veins.

In the greenhouse, the citrus are having their moment. Makes it all very cheery and leads me to pretend I have a limonaria. I even harvest the first lemon. How best to use this precious fruit is my happy dilemma. Make lemon curd? Salad dressing? Lemon pound cake? So many possibilities!

The calamondin oranges are looking quite lovely. They aren’t really edible as they’re small, very seedy and sour. But, they lend a certain sophisticated flavor when speared into a vodka martini. A branch of these oranges makes a dining table look very festive – turns a routine gathering into a party.

Indoors, the forced hyacinths are coming along nicely. This waiting is always most exciting to me. It’s like a child’s giddy expectation in the days leading up to Christmas.

I also picked up some inexpensive primroses -their flowers in crayon-box colors are so heartwarming. They are quite a contrast to the very elegant looking white orchid that’s been in bloom since early December. FYI – Orchids are really great value for the money.

Yes indeed. Halftime feels good.