Call Of The Climate II

Following up on my thoughts about how we can become better gardeners. As custodians of our precious parcels of earth, how can we best serve the environment as well as ourselves in a responsible, caring, kind manner and still express our creativity and personal style?

There is plenty out there that preaches about dire consequences if we don’t wholeheartedly embrace everything suggested by the extreme activists. It’s all or nothing for them. Personally, I find this aggressive approach unnecessary and somewhat bullying. It fosters guilt and resentment and frankly sucks the joy out of gardening.

On the other hand, the climate change deniers are at the other extreme and their attitude of not caring at all about the clear evidence on the climate crisis is maddening and can generate a feeling of ‘Why bother doing my part if others are not doing anything at all?’. This results in total inaction.

I believe there is a happy compromise. We can have our own unique gardens along with implementing good environmentally correct, eco-friendly, sustainable practices. But first, we gardeners must ask ourselves a few key questions.

The foremost thing is to ask ourselves why we garden at all. One gardens because one enjoys the outdoors, immersed in nature. Where, creating a beautiful, healthy garden to nurture both body and soul is vital. A space that soothes, inspires, informs and invigorates and also serves the greater good. Where artistic visions are expressed and simultaneously, the needs of flora and fauna supported. I garden because I must.

By its very nature, a garden is mans attempt at controlling the immediate environment. That area that we ‘own’ to do as we will. However, this cannot, must not, be at the cost of causing any negative impact. Do No Harm is not an oath restricted to physicians. It applies to every one of us. In the garden, it means we work in a manner that is useful, helpful, mindful and joyful. Creating any garden is hard work but by being thoughtful and caring, the labor is worthwhile, noble. A gardener worth her salt knows and embraces the fact that she does not own the garden at all. She is merely the custodian. This is a high honor and a great responsibility. The Earth is counting on us to do right. After all, a garden is not just about plants and their pretty flowers or tempting fruits. It’s about all the creatures who inhabit the garden and live in the ecosystem. This includes the gardener herself.

And that brings us to how we garden. If you believe that the gardener is a part of the garden itself, then surely the idea of best practice is implied. Nothing one implements can be harmful to the gardener and consequently, to any of the living beings in the garden. The solution then, is to go organic. It’s that simple.

As one who has always gardened organically, I know this method is not easy. Instead of spraying chemical pesticides and/or fertilizers and get instant results, organic applications take more diligence and vigilance. Organic products are to be used with prudence because even they, are broad in their action. If it is used to kill one kind of pest, say a tick, the product will affect a whole bunch of other bugs including the good ones. Organic or plant based does not automatically mean safe. Remember, tobacco is a plant product and grown organically or not it harms and can kill humans who smoke or consume it. In the context of the garden, think Round-Up and you’ll see what I mean. That powerful plant-derived chemical which acts swiftly and very effectively, is pure evil. There is plenty of data that proves my point. So, organic is our answer to the how.

Organic gardening comprises a number of aspects. It’s about the types of plants, the soil and how it is amended, water and how it is sourced and used, the tools we use, the wildlife and how everything is connected.

I will go into all those factors next week. For now, lets ponder over how we’re doing in the How department and what we can do better and what we can stop doing altogether.

Keep in mind, we’re trying to do our best but we’re only human. We make mistakes. So self-flagellation of any sort is not allowed. We’re growing better together.

In my garden right now –

(c) 2023 Shobha Vanchiswar

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April Flowers

Is April the new May now? That’s exactly what it looks and feels like doesn’t it? The season is moving at a pace I’m finding hard to manage – there’s too much to do all at once. What typically starts slowly with the sweet sightings of snowdrops and winter aconites shyly blooming and gradually picks up momentum as the days lengthen and the earth is coaxed awake has been replaced this year with the garden exploding into bloom like a runaway train. Mind you, I’m enjoying seeing what is in bloom every day but it is all too much too soon. Whatever will May look like?

And it has been very dry. No April showers thus far. Add the unseasonably high temperatures and here we are – under threat of brush fires. In my county, there have already been some minor fires in woods and preserves. Frankly, I’m nervous. At this rate, we could be facing moratoriums on watering which will of course lead to loss and damage to our gardens and fields. The potential for greater consequences cannot be overlooked.

I’m allowing myself the luxury of enjoying the flowers in bloom. The daffodils are having a divine moment – so joyous and celebratory. I cannot imagine anybody not smiling upon seeing them trumpeting in sunny hues. I do believe that daffodils are the sunflowers of Spring.

The early magnolias all over the area are spectacular this year. As were the cherry blossoms. It’s hard to complain in the presence of such beauty.

The temperature today hit 80 degrees. Predicted to go up to 84 tomorrow. And the day after. Yikes! That could mean the flowers won’t remain in bloom for too long. Makes me feel cheated. After all the back-breaking work of bulb planting in the fall and dreaming of the spring all through winter, it simply is wrong if one is not awarded the right amount of time to bask in the glory of bulb season.

The pear trees have started flowering and the later bulbs are rapidly emerging and growing. I’m hoping the bees and butterflies show up soon. No pollination, no fruit. I should probably put up the hummingbird feeders soon. Tender perennials like the bays, figs, agapanthus, brugamansia and such have been brought out from their winter dwellings a few weeks ahead of schedule.

Spring is my favorite season and I revel in the chores. Except this year, I’m feeling rather overwhelmed by how much needs to be done quickly. Everything everywhere all at once!

Peony supports are already up. Vegetable bed planted up with cool weather greens. Annual herbs potted up and set out. The watering system of the vertical garden is in full operation. By weeks end, the greenhouse will be completely emptied of the citruses and other tropical treasures. After a proper cleaning, said greenhouse will be housing dahlias in pots. The tubers in storage have survived all right and shall be reawakened in pots of fresh soil.

Despite my trepidation about climate change, I’m resolved to be present in the moment. This season of renewal comes by just once each year and I cannot waste it. Each day I’m making time to simply appreciate the flowers, the new growth, the birds and to certainly, take advantage of the warm weather to get things done.

The optimist in me is willing the weather Gods to ease up and bring back more seasonal temperatures and some life affirming rain. I couldn’t call myself a gardener by any measure if I didn’t think wishfully. It’s mandatory – says so in the Gardeners Handbook.

Note: Remember my Open Fay is May 20 – get your tickets and come visit

(c) 2023 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Climate Control

What a weekend it was! Hurricane Henri had a good portion of the Northeast in a heightened state of alert. A fair bit inland, my corner was told to expect a tropical storm. High winds and heavy rains. So, we got down to getting necessary garden chores done. Tethering some pots, laying others down on their sides, harvesting ripened grapes so they couldn’t be tossed off in the wind, bringing in certain things that had no business sitting outside in a storm, hanging pots set on the ground, you get the idea.

Needless to say, the scheduled Digging Deeper event for Sunday was canceled. That was so disappointing as I’d been looking forward to having fellow gardeners to share, commiserate and exchange stories and lessons.

As it turned out, we got lucky. Henri was down graded to a tropical storm and our area missed the predicted winds. It did rain though – all of Sunday and well into Monday. But not quite as fierce as feared. I’m truly grateful. It is now time to shift focus on more usual matters in the garden.

I’ve been taking note of plants that did well this year and those that have not. The weather this year has been so erratic and uncharacteristic that it is not really a matter of selecting or rejecting any specific plants but more about simply observing. This is the sort of information that is useful as one plans ahead. The climate is changing and so must our gardens. Certain plants that rely on colder winters will not do well as my planting zone moves slowly into a warmer one. On the other hand, plants that I’ve coveted over the years but could not survive harsh winters might now take up residence in my garden. It is a very bittersweet reality.

Last week, I learned that our fall this year will be warmer and temperatures will not drop significantly till the end of November. Hmmm. Does this mean that planting spring bulbs should not happen on time? Typically, I plant bulbs at the very end of October into early November. Will the bulb houses know to ship them out accordingly? How much later will be ideal? Nearer Thanksgiving? A more definitive directive is required as I need to plan accordingly! Bulbs are a huge investment for me and I cannot afford to risk any loss. They are such a favorite that without them, I cannot imagine spring. Here’s hoping it all gets sorted out and the situation is not as dire as indicated. As a gardener, optimism is a mainstay.

A few weeks ago, I placed my bulb order. I was a bit later than usual. Just by a couple of weeks. And yet, a couple of choices were sold out. I urge all fellow bulb maniacs to get their orders done ASAP.

Keeping in mind the way the weather directed the time line of the bulb show this year, I tweaked my list with a few more late season bloomers. I also added more of the stalwarts like hyacinthoides, camassia and select alliums. For a little indulgence, I splurged ( just a bit) on the more expensive Frittilaria – imperialis and persica. They are really pricey so I ordered only a few. When I win the lottery, you can bet I will go crazy. Finally, to kick things up in early spring, I ordered a batch of a new-to-me crocus – C olivieri ‘Orange Monarch’ and yes, it is a golden orange with garnet-merlot striations. That should really punch up the usual purple, white and yellow mix. Most folk will not see this particular show. But I will and that’s what matters. Because in the end, I garden for me.

Note: Since it’s not bulb season and we’re only dreaming/planning for it, I’m sharing a few watercolor images of them.

(c) 2021 Shobha Vanchiswar

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FOMO In The Garden

FOMO – Fear Of Missing Out

I really appreciate that our very human anxiety about feeling left out or missing out on something has been recognized and owned. As social animals, we need to be included and informed on all the goings on. Every one of us can recognize that FOMO feeling – we’ve not only been there but we continue to go there. It simply cannot be helped. Which is why we say ‘yes’ so often. And why we bring upon ourselves a state of business that more often than not, provides no satisfaction.

I’m currently going through a different sort of FOMO. It’s a deep seated resentment of missing out on the happenings in the garden. Due to the days of intense heat alternating with long bouts of rain, I’ve had very little opportunity to hang out in the garden. The humidity in particular really does me in. Snatching windows of tolerable conditions to get basic chores done is about all I’ve managed. There has been no real chance to enjoy what’s in bloom (or not), observe wild life and just linger in the life affirming atmosphere of the garden.

These conditions invariably makes me a grump. The sense of not being there to note the myriad events in my garden is unsettling to say the least. What’s the point of planning, planting and working in the garden if I’m not there to savor the fruits (no pun intended) of my labor?

Instead, on my rushed forays, I spy poppy petals scattered around but not a single flower in sight. Missed those blooms. I dutifully refill the hummingbird feeders but do not get to watch any of the thirsty drinkers. I know the cicadas have emerged, mated, laid eggs, eggs have hatched and nymphs have molted only because I spot the exuviae, their transparent exoskeletons still clinging on to tree trunks. How I’d have loved to monitor those stages! Soggy roses browning on the limbs tell me I missed their beauty and fragrance. And so it goes …. on and on.

A similar FOMO is experienced when I must go away for any reason. I might be super-excited to travel to beloved places and yet, I’m loathe to leave my garden. I know what I’m going to be missing and that makes me sad. In the big picture, none of this is a huge deal. I know that. But I’m here owning my own FOMO. It’s real and not to be ignored. There, I’ve said it. Anyone else coming forward?

Note: I’m sharing some of my recent black and white paintings. They were after all inspired by the garden

Gardenia

Tree Peony

Clematis

Columbine

Magnolia Grandifolia

Parrot tulip

Iris

(c) 2021 Shobha Vanchiswar

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February Feelings

Where did January go? Wasn’t it just yesterday when we welcomed in 2020? But here we are in February, just past the mid-point of winter. And yesterday, the New York metropolitan area enjoyed a spring-ish (yes, spring) day. Which, while out of place for this month, put me in a mind to start thinking about spring. That’s a mere six weeks away!

There are plans to make, tasks to schedule and things to get ready. Click here for a list of February chores. It’s a good comprehensive register and will get you on the right track.

Last Sunday, the grape vine was pruned. Typically, that chore is done later in the month but, given the atypically mild winter we’ve had thus far, it seemed prudent to do it ahead of time.

A friend is starting some seeds for me and I’m ever so grateful. My greenhouse is so crammed with overwintering plants that there’s no room for seed flats. Besides, my travel/work schedule is a bit more hectic this season so it is particularly nice to have one less thing to do.

Much to my family’s relief, the hyacinths I had cooling in the refrigerator ( taking up prime real estate) are slowly coming out for forcing. Observing the daily progress of these bulbs sustains me enormously. It’s funny how something as simple as that can have such a profoundly uplifting effect on the mood.

The charming pots of primroses at my area Whole Foods proved irresistible. I now have five of them in different crayon-box colors cheering up the kitchen.

Both, hyacinth bulbs and primroses will find a home in the garden once they’ve finished blooming.

In the garden, February can be an austere month. But really, it is a month of promise of the beauty and bounty to come. It provides that quiet window before spring bursts forth rambunctiously and all hands must be on deck to cope with the myriad garden chores.

February is that plain looking gift that waits patiently for its value to be discovered.

Grapevine -Before the pruning

(c) 2020 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Homecoming

Traveling makes one modest: one sees what a tiny place one occupies in the world.”

The Letters of Gustave Flaubert, 1830-1857

It feels good to be back home. Refreshed from my travels, I’m eager to get back in the garden. Returning after an absence always makes me approach it with some trepidation. What if something has gone terribly wrong? is a thought that hits me every single time. Thankfully, all is well. Sure the weeds have made merry, the beds are a bit messy with some plants calling it it quits for the season and, the tiny lawn is in need of a trim but in general, it’s all par for the course. The garden is transitioning into autumn.

I’d been concerned that the hummingbird feeder would run empty and thereby the birds would be denied their regular supply but it’s perplexing that after a whole two weeks, the feeder is still a third full. Have the hummingbirds moved on already? I sincerely hope nothing untoward has happened to them. I must look into understanding this before I’m consumed with worry.

The figs tree was heavy with ripe fruit that were enjoyed right away. In fact, the enthusiasm over the splendid harvest made me forget to take a photograph before they disappeared. You just have to take my word for it. The tomatoes are still going strong and I’m getting ready to make sauce for canning.

The asters are just starting to bloom and I think they’re a bit late. Usually, they’re in full swing by now. I’d actually thought I might be late to the show. The vertical garden is having its moment – looking lush and full just as so much else is waning.

The turtleheads in the meadow are growing strong. I love how dependable they are. I’ve come to the realization that the flowers of the oak-leaved hydrangea (H. quercifolia) do not last as long into fall as the my other hydrangea(H. paniculata). The former already look crisp and brown while the latter have moved from white to that soft blush that I so adore. However, the leaves of the oak-leaved have the added bonus of changing color so, I’m looking forward to that display.

All the Concord grapes have either dropped too early or the robins that nest amidst the vine have got to the fruits first. No jelly this year. So be it. Postscript -just last night I discovered that the gardeners at Hortus Arboretum and Botanical Gardens use ordinary paper lunch bags to protect their grapes. Somehow, these humble bags even survive the rain! I’ll be trying that next year.

No apples or pears either. Just as the fruit trees were in beautiful bloom in the spring, a very cold spell hit and the pollinators stayed home. The flowers spent themselves out soon after. First hand lessons in the garden. The leaves of the apples dropped off by early August and I saw that the trees at Stonecrop gardens had a similar problem but those still bore some ripening apples so, I’m a bit envious. I can only assume that the very hot months of summer took a toll and the leaves fell early.

Even in his most artificial creations, nature is the material upon which man has to work.”

— Marcel Proust, Swann’s Way

It’s been a really weird summer season this year – much too hot with spells of either too much rain or complete lack thereof. Perhaps this will be the new normal and we will have to adjust what and how we garden. I’m trying to keep pace. This is after all, our future. That has to concern everyone.

In a month, I’ll be cutting and tidying in preparation for the winter. Hundreds of bulbs ordered earlier in summer will also arrive at that time for fall planting.

As the sun sets earlier and earlier, I’m determined to enjoy every available hour of daylight before I get caught up in all the busy-ness. All too soon, it’ll be winter and I want to be warmed by that sense of smugness that I had a good time while I could.

Note: I invite you to come to the “Restoring Historic Gardens” Symposium at Untermyer Gardens on Saturday October 19, 2019. I’m excited to be moderating the panel discussion that will follow after the three speakers share experiences with their respective historic gardens.

The “Walk In Our Shoes” exhibit is on till September 30. Hope you will visit this wonderful art show.

Turtleheads in the meadow
Hydrangea paniculata
Crispy flowers of the oak-leaved hydrangea
The leaves of the oak-leaved slowly changing color
Cardinal flowers still doing well
The wall
Tomatoes in the greenhouse
Figs ripening
Hot!
Pretty

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Balancing Act

For the past ten days, I’ve been enjoying down time on the barrier islands of Chincoteague and Assateague off the coasts of Maryland and Virginia. It has been part of the quest for balance in life. When we plan a getaway or vacation, it is that need to counteract the everyday demands of work and other responsibilities. An opportunity to press the reset button so we maintain an even keel and thus keep perspective of what truly matters. Nothing quite as effective as a healthy dose of nature to do the job.

It is heart-achingly beautiful here. Known primarily for the wild ponies that inhabit them, these islands are the last remaining undeveloped outer banks. And remain they shall, thanks to the designation of being a National Seashore/Wildlife Refuge under the National Park Services. Like all our other National Parks, they are priceless national treasures.

It’s a fragile, ever-changing ecosystem here. Between the waves and winds of the mighty and temperamental Atlantic Ocean, the terrain,flora and fauna are in constant flux. New ‘islands’ are built, old ones shrink or grow, shorelines shift, the resilient wildlife adapt and somehow, an equilibrium is maintained. Retreating dunes mark the island’s westward move and as the water in the bays rise in response to rising ocean water, the coastlines are redrawn. New habitats are created and old ones re-adapted. Plants and animals adjust to these changes. Rich in aquatic life, the bays provide a vital ecosystem. The salt marshes, defined by the ebb and flow of the tides are yet another complex, vital ecosystem in themselves. The plants that thrive in salt marshes may be few but they shelter a diverse number of wildlife. The dunes and upper beaches are in constant motion and support a different variety of plants and animals.

Even as eel grass is tossed up by storm surges, it is turned into a substrate that enriches the soil in the marshes. Ribbed mussels have a relationship with the long water roots of salt grasses found along the edges of the marshy islands. Egrets ride on the horses to see what choice morsels they might reveal as they plod around and disturb the wet land. In turn, they help the horses by dealing with the biting insects so prevalent here. The horses feed on the salty grasses and also the poison ivy – I found that latter item quite interesting.

In an ideal situation, these parts would manage fine and life would play out naturally. It’s a real gift that we humans get to visit and observe. But yet, we manage to upset the balance. Despite all the cautions and advice from the park rangers, people often try to get too close to the horses ( selfies!) or try feeding them. The horses, as a result can get too familiar with our presence and come to expect treats to supplement their diet. These are wild animals with strong teeth and legs – their bites and kicks are fearsome. Getting too close or goading them has unfortunate consequences for man and horse. Why oh why can we not stay away from our own worst habits?!

We got very lucky with Hurricane Dorian last week. A harmless tropical storm was all we experienced. Two windy days of which one was rainy. Some localized flooding but nothing problematic. I imagine this was however, a more serious threat for the wildlife as they were deprived of their regular feeding forays and had to seek shelter to wait out the weather. For me, it was enough to be made acutely aware of how fragile life is and how much we take it for granted.

When I return home shortly, I plan to carry this awareness in my heart and strive harder to stay centered, as always, taking my cues from nature in maintaining a balance.

P.S- I also plan to increase my annual contribution to the National Parks. In recent times they have seen major budget cuts. This is nothing short of a crisis of tremendous proportion with far-reaching consequences. I beseech every single one of you to do your part in preserving our national treasure – this beautiful, majestic land of mountains and plains, lakes, rivers and coasts that we call home.

See the images below for a glimpse of Assateague/Chicoteague beauty.

Note: I’m participating in this show. I hope you will see it.

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar
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Plant Wise

After two weeks of arctic temperatures and a “bomb cyclone” thrown in for good measure, I’m feeling particularly grateful for central heating and Netflix. When it’s so cold that any time spent outdoors is nothing short of torturous, it brings to mind how easily we take our creature comforts for granted.

Too warm, there’s air-conditioning. Too cold, central heating. Too buggy, window-screens. Too much food, refrigeration. Clothes for all seasons, comfortable couches, cozy beds, running water both hot and cold, well-equipped cars, myriad choices for entertainment, constant connectivity to everything/everyone and, so it goes. And yet, we grumble.

If our basic needs of food, shelter and requisite clothing are taken care of, everything else is gravy. Really. Just look to the garden. A plant given its primary requirements of light, water and residency, thrives gloriously. It doesn’t ask for any more or any less. Satisfied, the plant does exactly as it ought. It withstands the storms, occasional neglect and unexpected variabilities in weather. Plants are resilient.

We humans are resilient too. We tend to forget that. Instead, we get angry, upset or into a panic. It helps to remind ourselves that our kind has seen just about everything through the ages. Famines, droughts, deluges, fires, earthquakes, wars, tsunamis, storms, avalanches, more wars, meteor hits, locust invasions, volcano eruptions, yet more wars – we have endured them all.

So this recent dip in temperatures is nothing in the big picture. We’re already rebounding as temperatures climb to normal this week. What we need to keep in mind is that while we make the most of good times, we must be prepared for the not so good ones. Plants store energy, they know to conserve/go dormant/set surplus seed as stressful conditions arise. They are in tune with themselves and the environment. There is now scientific evidence that should a tree come under siege, they send signals to their neighbors and even further beyond so those plants can arm themselves by producing chemicals to thwart the enemy.

Hence, taking a leaf (!) from a plant’s survival manual, we too can be prepared for most of life’s curve-balls. From stocking up on food and fuel supplies within reason ( it’s about having sufficient reserves not hoarding ) to maintaining physical and mental wellness to keeping our homes and cars energy efficient and in good running order ( think roof repairs, insurance, wills, safety measures etc., ) we get ourselves ready. Going beyond ones own needs, we think and do similarly for our communities, cities, nation and beyond. Yep, that’s it. And no whining allowed.

Typically, we look to freshen up our home at this time of year. Do check out the “Printed Garden” collection – works with any decor! Free shipping within the 48 contiguous US states!

Mark your 2018 calendar! Saturday May 18 is Open Day at my garden!

(c) 2018 Shobha Vanchiswar

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