Tag Archives: growth

Learning On The Grow

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The more I garden, the more I learn. There’s never a point when one feels all gardening knowledge is now acquired. It’s quite the opposite isn’t it – there’s so much I still don’t know. It’s what keeps a gardener excited and curious. And humble,

Curiosity is what drives me to experiment with new plants and projects. What thrives is cause to celebrate. What does not is never a failure because they teach us about the whys, whats and hows of the living world. We discover our own humanity.

In the course of creating my garden, the countless life lessons, the personal growth of mind and spirit and, the practical understanding of the natural world sustain me and give me the courage to live larger, take chances, stretch my skills outside the garden. So every new thing I learn as a gardener enriches every aspect of life. What a blessing.

Late last summer, I beheld a gorgeous plant at the Cornell Botanical Gardens. With a statuesque, bold silhouette, it called attention unabashedly. With strong burgundy-plum stems, heart-shaped, multi-lobed leaves glistening in the sunlight, the plant bore large, creamy yellow flowers with a crimson center. On closer examination hung long, tapering fruit capsules also colored maroon-plum. I coveted it instantly. It was a variety of okra!

I then noticed the more common green okra that is equally beautiful. Together the two look quite spectacular and peak at a time when so many plants are beginning to tire. While I enjoy okra ( there are many non-slimy ways to enjoy it) very much, I’m going to try growing them as ornamentals. Having obtained the seeds, I’ll start them indoors next month. Can’t wait to see how successful I’ll be. Fingers crossed. FYI – in India, okra is also called Lady’s Finger!

More recently, on a visit to Wave Hill, drooling over the cascades, pools and rivers of scilla in bloom, I expressed aloud how much I wished the scilla in my meadow would self-seed and naturalize as rampantly. Wave Hill gardener Harnek Singh told me that the effect was achieved by actually collecting the seeds and scattering them over the areas. Planting them as bulbs would either require planting thousands of them or waiting an interminably long time for them to multiply. Seeds! I must get them!

Something else I learned from Harnek on that visit was that yucca can be grown in my zone and cutting them down in the fall is a good way to manage the plant size.

Finally, along the entry path at Wave Hill, I noticed for the first time a feature that’s actually been there for some years. Sedge being used to hold a low embankment as the land slopes down to the path on one side. As the photograph below testifies, it looks so interesting and effective.

The four new things learned have given impetus to introduce some novel late summer flair with the okra – scheduled to happen this year hopefully, early spring beauty of scilla – but that will come into its own only in a couple of years after the seeds establish, grow and the plants mature. Meanwhile, I shall seek a variegated yucca to brighten a blah spot in the garden. I don’t have immediate need to use the sedge in the manner of Wave Hill but rest assured it will be applied when the opportunity arises in either mine or a client’s garden!

This is my kind of exciting. Growth in the garden as well as the gardener.

Reminder! Lyndhurst In Bloom and my Open Day cometh! Make your reservations!

Sedge

(c) 2024 Shobha Vanchiswar

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POV

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This past Sunday and the Monday prior, groups of artists have come to paint in my garden. As I truly believe that gardens are best enjoyed when shared with others, it gives me enormous pleasure to see people enjoy my garden. When something that gives me comfort and inspiration does the same for others, we become connected at a deeper level I think. The shared experience fosters a bond for sure.

I’m always curious to understand how others experience and perceive anything I create. Be it a poem, a painting, a meal or my garden, receiving feedback is an important factor in my growth as an artist, poet, gardener or cook. Going a step further, its how I grow as a creative individual. But one doesn’t always get to know what others experience since not everyone feels compelled to share their thoughts. Of course, most folk readily say kind, complimentary things and only a few will offer honest, constructive criticism. How well I accept the latter depends naturally on who is speaking. A person who’s opinion I value or somebody who simply says something from ignorance or misguided intent – it makes a difference.

But when it comes to artists in my garden, what they choose to paint and their resultant works says it all. No words required. So many points of view and interpretations helps me see my garden anew each time. This is valuable as, for my part, I get to see my garden from different perspectives which then helps me develop or evolve certain areas further or maintain other spaces as it is for now. For certain, I learn much in seeingthe garden through the eyes of others and that gives me a deeper understanding of my own creative process. It’s also a testament to how successful (or not) my design efforts are. Those paintings are a bit like performance reports. I pay attention and then take from each what either helps me grow creatively or validates what I’ve done. What elements, plants or areas caught an artists attention informs me on whether my work with the design, shadows, shapes, colors, play of light, use of negative space have been noted and appreciated. Every now and then, I get to see something so familiar to me in a completely different manner. That’s big.

In any case, every artists’ work matters to me. Simply knowing they are in my garden by choice does my gardener and artist heart a world of good. I am humbled and deeply grateful.

Here are images from two different days of artists in the garden and their resulting works. It’s interesting to note where and what each decided to paint –

(c) 2023 Shobha Vanchiswar

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As The World Turns

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Through the ages, gardens have been extolled as places that nourish ( literally and figuratively), comfort, heal, soothe, instruct, delight and nurture. The one who gardens gets the most from the garden. There is a sacred intimacy that exists between garden and gardener. Yet, as in any relationship, discord can creep in.

The gardener can one day come to the realization that he/she has become disenchanted. The act of gardener starts feeling like more work and far less pleasure. As soon as one becomes aware of this, it is time to pause and reassess. A shift has taken place to cause an imbalance. Best to understand why, what and how before the situation gets worse.

Often, the simple answer is one’s health or age or both. Loathe to confess to oneself that things have become difficult, a gardener keeps persevering but the joy that he once derived is diminished. It’s not fun anymore and it’s not easy to admit it.

This came to light at a recent discussion with some fellow gardeners. While lack of time to work to ones hearts content in the garden was a much repeated refrain, probing further revealed obvious health setbacks but even more relevant ,was the toll the natural passage of aging takes. And that’s tough to accept. After all, one isn’t feeling old. The fact is that in either case, health or age, the mind is willing but the flesh is weak. So it got me thinking about it and the evolution of our relationship with our gardens

Evolution. That is an important process that includes both garden and gardener. The two must evolve with time – to remain static is not natural. How we make a garden changes as we understand more about the science of horticulture, the invention and discovery of new tools, practices and methods. With shifting weather patterns, we must respond by way of what we choose to plant, how we use water and commit to organic practices. We invite in more wildlife to restore a healthy balance of native flora and fauna. I see this as encouraging nature to call the shots and respond with nurture only as necessary and appropriate.

With time, the gardener must adapt to aging. Growing old is inevitable but that in no way means we cease to do that which we deeply love. It merely requires a shift in attitude and a willingness to accept certain inevitable developments. From less energy and/or strength to the challenges of arthritis or other ailments, it is hard to do what one could when younger. That is A okay. We don’t need to garden harder. Instead, we garden smarter.

For starters, native and ecologically beneficial plants are hardy and far less demanding. They bring in the native fauna. Installing water baths and bird, bee and bat houses also helps. This natural pest control means the gardener, whilst remaining vigilant, needs to do less. Similarly, mulching with compost and bark chips translates to less watering and weeding and, no other fertilizer application.

Raised beds are a good solution for those who can no longer kneel or bend comfortably. Replacing or reducing expanses of lawn with more plants or other appropriate native groundcover is not just a way to reduce the upkeep but is vastly healthier for the environment. There are now available ergonomic tools to make it easier on the hands and back.

Finally, it is perfectly okay to delegate tasks that have become difficult to perform. Ego or plain stubbornness has no place in the gardener’s attitude – by now, he/she should have learned humility from mother nature.

In the end, we gardeners and our gardens will grow old gracefully together. It’s a beautiful thing.

Notice how all the measures stated will also free up some time? Those who complain about lack of time have no excuse anymore!

Reminder! Have you pre-registered for my Open Day? Do it soon – numbers are limited. Thanks!

Note: My garden is springing awake!

(c) 2022 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Giving Thanks

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For a year replete with so much dissidence and despair, I find myself overcome with gratitude as never before. With Thanksgiving two days away, it is not the meal that is uppermost on my mind but the simple fact that I’m present and accounted for. Everything that has brought me through the months up to this point has my deep, sincere thanks. Every single thing.

Ups and downs, good and bad, sad and happy, birth and death have all been experienced. What a year! As I look back, it’s painful to recall some events but, there have been celebrations as well. If anything, 2020 has exposed the raw reality of life. Nothing glossed over. All the trimmings of how we live have been stripped away to reveal exactly who we are. And that I see is the gift.

The’ pause’ button was pressed and a ‘reset’ was initiated. A new way of living was begun.

To arrive at this realization, I give full credit to the garden. I rediscovered my joy of gardening and paying attention to the lessons it teaches. With so many other plans and projects canceled or postponed, I had no need to rush to be elsewhere. I approached each garden task with the unfettered willingness to do it properly. I even had the luxury of time to take satisfaction in completing each achievement and fully appreciate every chore the garden provided. What I did in all other aspects of my life paralleled what I did in the garden.

As I pruned and cut back wayward branches, I reduced the personal to-do list to only what was essential. Nurturing the plants with a layer of rich, homemade compost directed me to make delicious yet healthy new meals for the family. I took the time to pay mind to the process of creating them. Vegetables, flowers and fruits from the garden were no longer assumed as given; they were admired and prized. I started appreciating my own near and dear ones anew instead of taking them for granted.

Finishing a big task in the garden invariably caused my body to express itself by way of aches and soreness. Rather than complain about the demands of the garden, I noticed how much more energy I had, how my strength had improved and how my mood was uplifted. I took to valuing my physical self instead of grumbling about its decline with each passing year.

In spending more time in the garden, I became acutely aware of the wildlife that enjoyed it with me. Stopping to watch a pair of wrens checking the bird house or a robin foraging for worms to feed its babies, had me breathing deeply and relaxing my muscles. I chuckled at the butterflies and bees vying for a drink from the same flowers. Noting a toad hopping around and then staying completely still once it felt my presence made me stand still as well. A few minutes observing its markings and cuteness instantly put me in a good frame of mind.

I spent many hours watching the birds – right here in my own garden, there are so many different kinds. Over the years, I’d forgotten how pleasurable it is to be in their company. Chipmunks flourished this year – while I was not elated about their presence, I couldn’t help being amused by their antics. A live and let live policy seemed to be good for us all.

All sorts of problems and conundrums got resolved when I weeded and watered. Lines for new poems came to me, I found the correct approach to responding to difficult emails, ideas for gifts or celebrations, resolutions to conflicts, working through worries were some of the personal benefits from these chores. I mourned, adjusted to new circumstances, celebrated, commiserated, vented and worked out dilemmas in the garden. A lot of joy, fears, sorrow, tears, laughter and anger have found expression in this beautiful space.

To garden is to live in hope. That tomorrow will come and it will be bountiful. This, I believe with all my heart.

The more time I had, the more I spent it in simply appreciating the garden. After all the years of being too overwhelmed, I was finally ready to paint my garden. Not simply individual flowers but actual parts of the garden. It was as though I had been liberated. Nay, I had liberated myself. The garden had, very quietly and gently, coaxed me to shed my doubts and uncertainties. I was free to create as I pleased and exactly how I saw it.

I’ve so enjoyed the day by day changes in the garden. I’ve learned as much about myself this year as I have about my garden. It’s an intimate relationship. Together we have grown to be more authentic, articulate and expressive. For which, my gratitude knows no bounds.

I sincerely wish each of you a safe, healthy, meaningful Thanksgiving. It might look and feel different this year but celebrate it we must. Gratitude begets happiness.

Note: Here is a collection of my garden paintings since the pandemic started. I will share the ones done in the autumn (and potentially this winter) another time.

Daffodils

The Light By The Woods

The Embrace

F meleagris

Tree peony

Remembering Spring

The phlox garden

Vertical Garden 1

Vertical Garden 2

A Peek Into The Potager

The Side Path

Nasturtium

Beauty In Passing. Hydrangea

Summer Collapsing Into fall

Amaryllis Social Distancing

(c) 2020 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Masterclass

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Growth is a process. Every gardener understands this. Yet, applying that to life outside the garden is not always easy. We know it takes not only time to grow from seed to plant to flower to fruit but there is need of the right conditions – temperature, light, nutrients, pollinators, good health, space. Nothing happens all by itself. A network of ‘helpers’ make growth possible.

When I say that the garden offers me an escape, a place of solace, it isn’t that it becomes somewhere to pretend that all is well. Instead, it is where I go to get away from the noise that drowns out the music. As I go about tending to my plants, I observe, I think, I listen, I learn. The garden is full of lessons and ideas.

Right off, an examination of a garden reveals that diversity is key. Shapes, colors, textures and, fragrances from diverse sources come together to create beauty. Every plant has a part to play. There are no insignificant roles. While some players might have loud/large visibility, they could not shine without the less obvious ones propping them up.

The sweet-peas have put out their first flowers. I’m looking forward to harvest time already! Their delicate tendrils stretching and reaching along the string tell me that we all need support to make progress, reach our goals.

The native wisteria over the pergola is in bloom. It flowers later than its Asian counterparts and the racemes are much shorter. I appreciate the timing because I’m invariably so overwhelmed by May’s full on blast of blooms that I’m not duly appreciative of the individual beauty of each type of flower. Besides, there’s also a lot of garden work to do at that time. The shorter racemes may not be as dramatic as the longer ones but they are still lovely and, they show up twice. So there. Being different is just fine. An asset even.

Watching the birds, butterflies and bees is better than anything on television. That by itself is an astounding feat. However, they make a couple of important points. First, all of life is interdependent. Across species and genus. We need each other.

Second, no matter who or what one is, our goals are universal – survival and providing for family and community. We have more in common than we think.

It’s fundamental. By striving to be my best self, I am able to connect with the world with empathy, understanding and purpose. But, just as I know from gardening, the garden is never done. There is always plenty of work to do. Growth. It’s a process.

David Austin’s R. boscobel

Native wisteria

Brugamansia

Baby robins

Native wisteria

(c) 2020 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Marking Time In March

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March has arrived like a lamb. With the temperatures in the fifties, it sure feels like spring – that’s ten to fifteen degrees higher than normal. Make what one will of this new normal but it is hard not to appreciate the weather and assume spring is here already.

The snowdrops are still going strong. With continued mild weather, I’m beginning to think that its very possible that my forced hyacinths indoors will be mirrored by the ones in the garden. The perfume of the hyacinths is my trigger to get into full spring mode. I know some folk are not much enamored with their smell but not moi, I can’t get enough.

I’m eager to get new plants right away. However, a walk around the garden reveals that I’m getting way ahead of myself. Apart from the snowdrops, nothing else seems even close to blooming. The hyacinths have just about started nosing their way through the earth. Ditto for the crocuses and daffodils. The hellebores all have buds that are getting nice and plump.

Elsewhere, I see that the wisteria and Abeliophyllum (white forsythia) are covered in tiny buds. The latter will suddenly ramp up and be in bloom ahead of most other plants. Along the side path, I can just about discern the ruby red of early peony growth. A few more weeks before I need to put in the stakes.

A stop at my favorite nursery will no doubt tell me to have a little more patience. Don’t they know me by now? I’d like to at least get the window-boxes and urns planted up. Those set the scene for spring instantly.

Yet, I know I cannot hurry up the process. Instead, I must get started on the various chores for this month. Cut back the old hellebore leaves, pick up winter debris, prune down the colorful limbs of dogwood shrubs and a myriad other things. But first, I’m going to get me some branches of pussy willow and forsythia to force.

Spring is going to be well underway indoors.

Note: Mark your calendar! My garden’s Open Day is May 16.

I’m thrilled to be participating in the art show at the Phyllis Harriman Gallery of the New York Art Students League this week. The reception is tomorrow March 4, 6-8 pm. Do stop by. It’s an amazing show!

The following images show the current state of my garden –

Rose ‘Srawberry Hill’ waking up

Daffodils

White forsythia getting ready. Any time now!

Snowdrops

Hellebore

Can you see the emerging red of peony?

The espalier walk

More snowdrops coming through

Iris

More hellebore

(c) 2020 Shobha Vanchiswar

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