The Richest of Wine and Chocolate

We have woken to the first serious frost of the season-crystallized fallen leaves and a coating on the lawn and porch. Pretty simply breath-taking. After the one of finest Fall color seasons I can recall (though there is some chance I say this every year), I am mentally switching gears to fires in the fireplace and pulling annuals that looked so festive during the last months and seem so gaudy and worn in the crisp air.

Since I was too lazy this morning to pull out my camera and instead just chose to take a walk along the shore and watch the mist creep along the water’s surface, I have no photos to share. But I did manage to download some photos taken back in October of some delicious reds and wines and chocolates that are anchoring many of the gardens I plant.

In a fashion cycle in which charteuses and limes, silvers and “aurea anything” sell before any of the standard-bearer plants, it is a challenge to warm those bright tones down and give the garden a richness that the aurea cultivars can easily drain from view. Some of the old fashion rich emeralds, as simple as boxwoods, privets or Choisya ternata, can define and set off the the Spiraea thunbergii ‘Ogon’ or Acorus gramineus ‘Ogon’. But nothing does it so gorgeously as the burgundies, the chocolates, the wines, the blacks. Cotinus coggygria ‘Velvet Cloak’ with Molinia caerulea ‘Variegata’

 

Heuchera ‘Palace Purple’ with Helianthemum ‘Wisely Primrose’

Weigela ‘Wine and Roses’ paired with Cedrus ‘Snow Sprite’

Acer palmatum ‘Emperor I’ with Hakonechloa macra ‘Aureola’ and Persicaria ‘Painter’s Palette’

Loropetalum chinensis ‘Plum Delight’ (tender) with Hakonechloa macra ‘Aureola’ and Lavandula ‘Hidcote’

Spiraea bumalda ‘Goldflame’ with Heuchera variety

Dahlia ‘Yellow Hammer’ with Agapanthus ‘Storm Cloud’ and Lavandula intermedia ‘Hidcote’

Hecuhera ‘Obsidian’ with Helleborus ‘Ivory Prince’

Even lettuce in the garden.

Coming Back

I have not written in months. Or taken photos of gardens. Or looked around me much. I’ve recently lost my sister, my only sister, to a  10 month battle with brain cancer. I was tight by her side these last months as she faded away with this disease. Today is one of those days when I am close to ashamed by my inability to stem my grief. I know, I know- that’s wrong-headed. But somehow at this mature stage of life, I believe I am to think of this passage as the normal journey of life, be accepting and at peace with it all. Just not there yet and feel such a void in her absence.

But I sat on my porch this afternoon, reading and watching the light as the dark clouds rolled in for the expected rain coming our way. And I know I sit in a place of beauty and peace and the air is almost palpable with the sound of the bees in the Lavender ‘Grosso’ and Hebe ‘Blue Mist’ and the hummingbirds swooping through the Phygelius and the tide making its way to shore. I picked up an old camera for a moment.

I can’t capture the heady perfume of my Cassablanca Lillies or Jasmine. My old camera pales the rich tones of Agapanthus ‘Storm Cloud’ or misses the rhythmic curved beds filled with charteuses of Leycestria ‘Golden Lanterns’, Acer shirwasanum ‘Aureum’ and the chocolate tones of Sambucus. But you should be here. This place has the ability to heal even me.

Eternal Hope

Ahhhh, spring….. well, not so much here in the Pacific Northwest. I have not one friend who is not whining about our gray weather this year. Endless drizzle (and hail yesterday), all the while it is warm in California, unseasonably hot on the east coast, paradise conditions pretty much everywhere else.

But lest I only look  up at the gray skies and still feel chilled to the bone in my fleece, the plant world around me is chirping along as though it is delighted with the weather and right on schedule. I just need to stop grousing long enough to notice.

In the moments after…

Where to begin…this is so symptomatic of what I have been like this past month. Scattershot… Can’t even figure out where to begin my paragraph.

I have just finished the Northwest Flower and Garden Show. Collaborating with 4 other designers ( go to http://d4collective.wordpress.com to see the evolution of the design these past 9 months)  we created the display garden for the show owners. I have lived, slept, obsessed, powered through and identified  plant names thousands of times in the past 2 weeks. We have see-sawed from high drama to  zen-like mood swings through it all. I have gone to bed at 2 a.m. and been back on the floor at 7 a.m. I have lived on Advil and heat packs and gotten a work-out beyond sense. I may be getting too old for this.

But in the end, we created a magical place- away from the noise of a huge garden show in the center of a bustling convention center and with roughly 70,000 people milling about. A white garden, a twilight garden with pools of water and handblown glass orbs; wrapped with sheer panels of poetry and clouds- a refuge spun from theater and thousands of plants and artists so generous with their time and volunteers that are crawling around from exhaustion too. From a bare concrete floor

to the Garden in Verse.

So now I have time to look out my window, cook a real dinner, see my husband, talk to my family and not bolt out of bed to work on the show. I am ready to be in real gardens and try out my new camera and plant seeds in my vegetable garden…so, so ready.

 

 

 

Slipping through the winter

I was expecting La Nina. Lovely that it passed us by and so sorry that record cold  has crushed much of the rest of the country. I was planting new gardens up until days before Christmas- a first for me. So my fingers were triple crossed that we wouldn’t pay for that decision. But in spite of one frigid dip for a few days in early winter, we’ve slipped through winter unscathed. The past few days of true sun and blue skies reminds us all that we’re just over a month til spring officially arrives.

I’m itching to get going on some new projects- a little restless to be out in the gardens and taking photos. I’ve been leafing through some older files as I do some winter housecleaning and decided to post a few before and afters- including some from this winter’s projects. I’m in the landscape business partly because I love the instant gratification of turning a blank slate or a tangled mess into a sanctuary that makes you smile. I use to practice criminal law. None of my clients were ever excited to see me- actually really hated having to see me. It’s so delightful to have clients happy you are around and smiling when your job is done. Just a few older samples that still make me smile….

.A new deck, a new patio, a yard to enjoy.

A new home and garden. I’ll post updates this spring- one of my favorites.

No way but up here. A construction company’s office- now a bird and chicken sanctuary for the employees to relax in.

A bleak, dark condo entry that is now rich with variegated plantings and a welcoming home.

 

I recognize that standing in a freshly planted garden looks quite different than posting pictures of it. In the space, you have nurtured the soil back to life and the brown earth smells and looks rich, the plants are nursery tended with perfect leaves and blooms. There is an incomparable sense of self satisfaction that you have created a space of beauty. I always take before and after pictures of my gardens, and I’m always initially disappointed with the after pics that what felt so ordered and lovely while I was clicking away, can translate to looking pretty tiny and incomplete in the photos.

So I risk that here but we will return to these gardens in a few months and next couple of years and watch the magic of  a new garden fill in to its full potential

.

This entry is tiny for quite a tall house on the lot. That “grass” you see there is actually a weed patch. The client wanted to have some privacy from the sidewalk that is just feet away- and an enclosure that could match the scale of the house. Lavender ‘Fred Boutin’, Magnolia ‘Little Gem’, Osamnthus ‘Goshiki’ and Anemanthele lessoniana will fill in through the summer.

This backyard was dark and sloped. We filled in the area so the family could have a place to kick around a soccer ball, thinned the canopy to let in light, built a patio.

The front yard takes all the heat and was overgrown with a unruly hedge and parched lawn. We created some privacy screening, built planters and a steel retaining wall for the steep slope by the drive, replaced the lawn and brought the garden up to the caliber of the newly remodeled home. The home and garden will be featured in the spring issue of Seattle Home & Styles.

Steel planter that rust colors with age; wooden planter that doubles for seating with its wide top cap. These small details can make the difference.

Stay tuned for summer photos as the gardens fill in.

Beauty in All Things

I find I am in search of a sensibility of beauty in all matter of things these days-

a meal that touches all your senses (I miss Gourmet magazine and now turn to Orangette and Smitten Kitchen for inspiration),

the stylish inventiveness of the well-dressed (I recently discovered the Sartorialist and JAK & JIL blogs; 

we in the Pacific Northwest have a lot to learn),

writing that causes me to take in a quick, second breath (always Mary Oliver and so many, many more ).

The art of a beautiful landscape….my grandfather’s farm in Tennessee, Reflection Riding. This was my playground growing up. At that the time all I was interested in was my pony, fishing, tractor rides, picnic suppers and avoiding rattlesnakes. I assumed that it was some inalienable right to be plopped into the midst of such incredible beauty and have the full run of the place. I could re-trace every inch of those 300+ acres blindfolded to this day. The essence of the elegance in the mountains of Tennessee. 

An although I’m not exactly a lean modernist type, I am finding such inspiration in many of the elegant compositions of gardens by renowned architects and designers- Andrea Cochran; The High Line in NY City; Maya Lin,

Lurie Garden by GUSTAFSON GUTHRIE NICHOL.

These designs are not plant-centric but equally about the innovative use of materials. The excellence in them is a recognition that creating a beautiful landscape is far from a static art form- completed for posterity as a painting or book might be. They are designed to age and morph with a sense of beauty at every stage.

This is an exciting time in our design field- so many bright creative people drawn to it- working with issues of ecology and urban crowding and earth stewardships. I am a tiny cog in this giant wheel but love that I am still struck by the elegance that comes from beautiful composition and attention to detail. And hopefully still absorbing this beauty into my own design work.

Turning the Corner

I stepped out on my front porch this morning and the chill pulled me right back in. Lingering gray skies and damp ground make it official that our brief summer is wrapping up. I am now making potato leek soup from my garden instead of basil pesto and blueberry/lettuce salads. Never could make any tomato anything and only my Sungold variety are actually ripening. Worse things could happen…

A few glimpses back over a lovely summer of travel and gardens coming to fruition and family time. And the comfort soup of all time- Potato Leek Soup.

Dinners on the porch and the gorgeous granite surrounds of the High Sierras in Yosemite with my hiking ladies- 23 years and counting.

The microscopic perfection of plant structure and pure color.

A toast to the new seasons ahead and a bow to the summer gone by.

LEEK/POTATO SOUP

(Simple Vegetarian Pleasures)

3 large leeks

2 tbsp. butter

3 cs. chicken stock

3 baking potatoes, peeled and cubed

1 tsp. salt, pepper to taste

1 ¼ c.s whole milk

¼ c. low-fat sour cream

chives, chopped

Clean leeks by cutting off root ends and all dark green leaves except 2 inches closest to the white part. Cut leeks in ½ lengthwise, then rinse thoroughly. Then slice thinly.

Saute leeks in butter over medium heat til tender, about 10 minutes. Do not brown. Add stock, potatoes, s&p and bring to boil. Simmer partially covered for 20 minutes or until tender.

Puree soup in blender; return to pot and add sour cream and milk. Heat slowly. Serve topped w/ chives.

serves 4

Abundance

Yesterday was pitch perfect- no “must do’s” on my calendar for the first day in weeks. Starting with a bike ride along the waterfront- no traffic and treats from our “out of this world”  The Pane d’Amore Artisan Bakery, shopping at the farmer’s market for local goat cheese and beans/tomatoes/fennel that are not yet ripe in my own garden, buying books at Eagle Harbor Bookstore- Mary Oliver poems (take my breath away), Peter Matthiessen’s Shadow Country (a hefty book that is now my official summer read), actually then reading on our deck, kayaking at sunset and a dinner outside of a green bean salad and fennel/ fresh tomato pasta that I spontaneously made-up. How much better can it get than that?

And throughout my comings and goings  yesterday, I kept glancing at my containers on the deck- truly bursting at the  seams with color and chaos and the individual jewels of plants at the peak  of their summer bloom.The perfection of  form in each tiny bloom and combined  with unlikely colors, they just sing. And make me smile…

So although I know it is  ”in” to  now  have a single  plant in a pot and let  that  simplicity stand  strikingly on  its own (and I like that too), I still  fall heavy for the abundance of  annuals that give it their all for one  season. From the old-fashioned geraniums, lobelia and alyssum to the more  chi-chi brugmansia and grasses surrounded with nemesia and diascias and  calibrochoas, and new cultivars that may be gone next season, what could be  a cacophony  if humans tried it, becomes a symphony from the plant world.  Not sure I captured it with my little digital camera but come by and see them in person. You’ll smile too….

Summer Heat

I have been whining for summer since April and now we have a 95 degree day and I’m feeling like “watch what      you wish for”. I kind of wanted to ease into this summer thing.

I’m also a bit embarrassed to be back to writing after a 3 month pause- a whirlwind spring of planning and planting and praying for warm nights so plants could start to soar. Truth is, the mild weather was a blessing for the gardens we installed in April, May and June; the pots with their fair dose of annuals were not so happy but a fair balance for plant happiness.

And second truth is I played hooky from work for 10 days- at the busiest time of my year- to travel up the Inside Passage of Alaska with my sister. Humbling and awe-inspiring- all humnakind’s attempt to mold and tame and design liveable spaces from the wild can’t hold a candle to the majesty of these surroundings. How could I have lived so close for 35 years and never been there?

In scattershot fashion, I would also like to pen an ode to a plant that always makes me smile, seems to work in sun or shade, looks like a shaggy dog but shines like a jewel- Hakonechloa macra ‘Aureola’.

There must be a downside to this grass but I’ve yet to find it- and I am a compulsive “grass collector” who’ve had my regrets.

And an ode to the chance pairing of plants that just sing when they come into their own.      For me Acer palmatum ‘Emperor I’ and Cornus stolonifera ‘Hedgerow’s Gold’- brilliant      and gold nestled beside rich and wine tone- a luscious combo.

And Helictotrichon sempervirens’ blue against the zinger orange of Calluna ‘Wickwar    Flame’, the purple of Lavandula ‘Grosso and the burgundy of Berberis thunbergii    ’Bagatelle’. Can’t pass it by.

And I am on the cusp of opening my own garden to the Bainbridge in Bloom garden tour this weekend and shrinking a bit with self-doubt. I do love, love my garden. For me… It’s sunny and chaotic but now I see all the blemishes and suspect those shortcomings will be the focus of others too. So should you come by and should you notice the missed weed and the gnawed on rhododendron or the lack of focal point and repetition that is a designer’s trade, just know that this garden is well-loved if not well-tended, that it is a work in progress and not one designed for public display and that its garden gates are always open to comers….enjoy.

Follow Your Nose

I really need to take a deep breath.

I woke up yesterday at 4 a.m. and tip-toed to my computer in the dark. Really dark. I didn’t want to wake Jon but I was in high gear the minute I rolled over. E-mails to return, bids to write, designs to draw and color. I am sure I look and act like a ragged Roadrunner.

It’s officially spring now in Seattle and people are wanting their gardens done yesterday- and I can’t blame them. All good news for me as long as they find their way to my door, but my conundrum is that I want to make it happen for them as quickly as they do.

Then I have to remember that it is only March- time aplenty to create gardens- one garden at a time. Patience, patience…

So enough whining for us all.

My frenetic turn-about came when I literally stuck my nose in the opening pink and white blossoms of a Viburnum carlesii that we had just purchased with a truckload of plants. Then I dragged my client out of her house to do the same. Just a peek at what it is to come.

This is the season of fragrance- well quite honestly every season is the season of fragrance, but when you’re just coming off dark days and months of gray-damp, these first hits of garden perfume in the newly warm air (we actually made it to 70 degrees yesterday) intoxicate me.

So if you do a double take when you walk past a yard and a delicious scent hits you, and you know it’s not coming from someone’s kitchen oven, and you’re desperately trying to locate the source, this is your season.

Along with Viburnum, Daphne cneorum is at your feet and often overlooked in Seattle but as along as it gets plenty of sun and is planted in a sandy soil, its small pink buds produce fragrance in mass and know one thinks to look at their feet where’s it’s right under their nose. Must be a moral to that story.

And Lilacs- old fashioned and a bit of a pain when they get woody and bland after bloom- but still worth the space in the garden. Makes me always think of lemonade and Monopoly and the front porch of our elderly neighbors in Tennessee. Oblivious as a child, I can now scent a lilac and know that is where I first picked up that fragrance.

My favorite of the moment (and been that way for several years) is Syringa vulgaris ‘Ludwig Spaeth’. Almost wine-stained purple. And I’m taken with the more dwarf variety of ‘Little Kim’ if you don’t want a Lilac “tree” encroaching on your garden space. Plenty of sun, please. Pictures yet to come…

Have I also mentioned that I love watching the Japanese Maples leaf out this time of year? Brilliant stars unfolding- zinger limes and firey reds.