I went looking for Halloween this morning. I think I found it.

Mary’s Tupelo (Nyssa sylvatica) is dressed in red rags for the costume party. And the Jerusalem artichokes (Helianthus tuberosus) looked like a legion of ghouls advancing out of the mist…

Creepy lives in the weeping trees.

The family might not have actually buried their dogs in the Bosquet but the terriers are still chasing squirrels here – I could sense it.

There are days for Mothers, Grandparents, Secretaries – and Goblins! Today is the day to celebrate your inner goblin and look for Creepy in your garden too – Happy Halloween!

No doubt about it, Blithewold’s fairies are Red Sox fans. They set up this satellite dish in time to catch the World Series and no one but this toadstool was out and about this morning after last night’s fairy celebratory revelry. We believe!

It’s somehow fitting that last night was also the first night that the heat kicked on at my house. I always keep the heat set low over the winter to save energy. The folks who work in the mansion here at Blithewold know what conservation feels like too – it’s chilly! I want to share a gardener’s little trick for how to feel warm this winter: Go outside!! Everyone who came into the potting shed this morning (including me) said “whoa – it’s toasty in here!” It was 61 degrees F inside!

Decked out in a stocking cap, scarf and polartec (I love the accessories of winter) I spent the chilly morning digging Dahlia ‘Sneezy’ up from the North Garden. It’s better to wait for a killing frost before digging dahlia tubers but we’re going to lose the volunteers soon and have to keep to a schedule and can’t wait patiently for frost. (Even with the chill this morning, the frost wasn’t a killer). Luckily the ‘Sneezy’s always have plump and healthy looking tubers no matter when we dig them or how awful the plant looks (some of them were smashed by neighbors and really scrunky looking). I cut off the stalks and will leave the tubers out to dry in the sun for a day or two before packing them in dampened sawdust and putting them in boxes down cellar. Aside from serious losses resulting from not unpacking some before hot and damp weather set in last spring, we were pretty happy with the sawdust method. Does anyone have a different tried and true method for overwintering dahlias? Enquiring gardeners want to know!

Tomorrow the we and the Deadheads will continue to winterize the North Garden. Many hands make light work and in no time at all, annuals will come out, perennials will be cut back and another giant pile of garden will be trucked off. We always try to leave some things in the garden for the lingering wildlife – I know where at least a couple of praying mantis egg cases are and last week we spotted this very-late-to-the-party monarch caterpillar on the move – probably looking for a spot to pupate. I expect that if we happen to find the chrysalis, Gail will rescue him and bring him home for her 8 year old to watch. (Don’t worry he’s not a wing-ripper-off-er!)

Sometimes, it’s the pockets of lovely that catch and hold my eye rather than the grand view. In my own garden, the whole isn’t as pleasing (yet) as some of the little things here and there. And rather than feel disappointed in the grand view, I’m magnetically drawn in to the pretty parts and could gaze for days at them without even seeing the weeds! (hmmm… could that be a weeding chore avoidance tactic?) At Blithewold, the grand view is always stunning (sometimes overwhelmingly so) but now that we’re putting gardens to bed, and there are holes in the whole, the vignettes are extra especially noticeable and eye capturing.

The trees and shrubs are catching my eyes too – I’ve been waiting for the Common witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) to bloom and it’s beginning just in time for Halloween. Perfect timing because the blooms look, to me, like teeny weeny Tim Burton creations!

The Carolina allspice (Calycanthus floridus) smells like cotton candy this time of year.

The Sourwood (Oxydendrum arboreum) might be my new favorite tree – look at the colors!

This week we were a little undone by rain in the forecast (notice I didn’t say “undone by rain” period – we got some but not a lot in the end) and the Rockettes and Florabundas got days off. I missed the Rockettes’ company when I raked pine needles for the Rock Garden’s winter blanket and Gail and I missed the Florabundas’ when we dropped daffodils in auger drilled holes (Thanks, Fred and Dan!) by the main gate. We’re hoping an April display of daffs by the entrance will entice people to drop in to see the real show inside… I hope the bulbs do ok. The ground along Ferry Road is so fiercely dry, root-y and rocky that we couldn’t (no matter how Hitchcock’s Psycho we went at the holes with our hori-horis) plant some of the daffs at their preferred planting depth of 6-8″ down. You can see in the picture, some are pretty close to the surface… Clever things, they will dig themselves in deeper – if they can!…

The last wedding of the season is this weekend – it will probably be chilly but gorgeous! Cathy (our pinch-hitter garden helper), Gail and I spruced the Rose Garden and North Garden for the bride and her guests – and Jake came along to give his approving head butt. We had pockets of frost this morning but luckily nothing in the gardens was touched. Next week we’ll take out the dahlias in the North Garden, cut back perennials, toss annuals and plant tulips – we’re nearly ready for winter! Are you?

An Australian priest living in New Bedford, MA sent Blithewold’s executive director a poem and she encouraged me to share it. Fr. Sharbel said he was inspired to write this (as yet untitled) poem titled “Deight” after walking around Blithewold with a friend this summer:

Seeds planted long ago

Have now become a splendid show,

That bring delight to the heart

As each in order play their part.

As one strolls beneath the trees

In summer’s air become a breeze,

One feels a calm and peace of soul

Our stories are in whispers told.

Each path is followed with delight

For at each turn is found a sight,

Of colors in their varied shades

New in light that grows and fades.

Here we learn to take our time

And watch the years make better wine,

As from the beautiful, we here drink deep,

May we within thanksgiving keep.

-by Fr. Sharbel Francis Mary

Isn’t it lovely? I think he must have had a nice visit…

Yesterday, the Deadheads removed more of summer’s veneer in the Display Garden and started to *think spring* by planting tulips in the cutting beds. It seems like we gardeners spend a lot of time casting ahead to the future. We plan and scheme and envision seasons to come while being totally up to our elbows in the here and now. It’s no wonder we get exhausted. I love the digging, rearranging, tidying, and putting to bed of fall but have trouble switching gears to plan for the colors of spring! Spring is too soft and pastel for me now with fall in my face (sneeze-o-matic ragweed must be still blooming in the unseasonable warmth). Fall’s colors seem deeper, earthier, and maybe it’s the light but they seem more electric. Neon tree colors are driving me to distraction (and nearly off the road). I love the rudeness of fall too – it’s like a little kid throwing blustery tantrums and telling really juvenile jokes. Working in the North Garden last week a peculiar odor reached for my nose and I found this shocking thing (right) the size of my pointer finger in the otherwise demur and still pretty garden. Stinkhorn fungi (Mutinus elegans) can be found in bark mulch or really rich soil.

I hope summer visitors like Fr. Sharbel come back to Blithewold to see the “splendid show” (and off-color comedy revue) of fall, all the “colors in their varied shades” of winter and “the beautiful” this coming spring. Meanwhile I’m going to take “each [season] in order” and even if I have to cast ahead a bit to another, I’ll remember to delight in (laugh at) the now.

Do you remember the 1970’s? I have hazy orange and brown memories of fads like macrame, yoga, clogs, avocado colored kitchen appliances, silk-screened monochrome bull’s-eye wallhangings, and houseplant jungles. What goes around comes around. For some, bell bottoms and backyard vegetable gardens never went out of style. Others of us rediscover trends and treasures when the time is right. I don’t know who decided that enough time had passed (was it Martha Stewart?) but terrariums are all the rage again. I think they’re so cool I have to wonder why they ever went out of style in the first place. And I have to admit that I’ve gone a little nuts. Some people put up jars of tomato sauce. I put up jars of mini indoor gardens.

Ingredients: clear glass jar (water bottle, fish bowl, jam jar, brandy snifter…) or a wardian case (looks like a mini greenhouse), fish gravel for drainage, fish tank charcoal (activated carbon) for purity, moistened soil (one part compost to 2 or 3 parts potting mix), any landscape elements you like (rocks, tiny houses, plastic dinosaurs…) and plants that love warm, humid conditions. — Indoor winter heat is tough on some plants. I had a little eyelash begonia that was a gasp away from death and when I put its last nubbin in a mason jar, it immediately decided to thrive. Look around and see what needs rescue. And go shopping! Some of your local nurseries stock perfect terrarium plants (we go to Peckham’s Greenhouse in Little Compton, RI) and there are plenty of mail order places too (such as Logee’s and Kartuz)

Place a layer of gravel, lightly topped with a layer of charcoal in the bottom of a clean container. The depth of this layer depends on the size of the container and should probably be 1/2″ to and 1″ for decent drainage.

Thickness of the soil layer also depends on the size of the container. It should be deep enough to hold the roots of your plants while not taking up more than the bottom third (including drainage layer) of your container. Terrariums are all about balance. Plants take in water and transpire it out. In a perfect little world, they essentially water themselves. I’ve gone for months without having to water some of my jars! When you choose and plant your babies, make sure they don’t take up any more than half of the air space in the jar. Plants that grow by leaps and bounds should be tended regularly and clipped back so they don’t strangle themselves or their neighbors. And fertilizing is a definite no-no — it wrecks the balance and plants grow too quickly.

Water your plants in just a little to make sure the soil around their roots isn’t full of air pockets and cover the jar (poke holes or leave the lid a tiny bit open for fresh air transfer), and place it in a bright but no-full-sun spot. You should be able to see the transpiration almost immediately as fog on the glass. If your terrarium ever gets so foggy that you can’t see the plants, uncover it for a while (and think about whether the plants need a trim).

Once you start making terrariums, it might be hard to stop! (or is it just me?)

Can everyday be Action Day? There are bandwagons all over the place that I want to jump on. Here is a post about the three R’s (reduce, reuse, recycle) that reminded me to rave that Fred and Dan, Blithewold’s groundsmen are expert at Reusing/Recycling. They took sills from the old greenhouse when it was renovated and rather than hauling it to a scrapyard, they re-invented it as a bed edge and grass stair risers. Sometimes with a wide open to the possibilities imagination, a useless cast-off can be rescued from the landfill and transformed into the perfect solution!
This morning I found a sidetrack bandwagon in this (otherwise really interesting) post. I’ve been on a (passive) lookout for an alternative to the soilless potting mix that we use in the greenhouse. Most (all?) potting mixes are made with peat which is not a renewable resource. It also bears mentioning that peat harvests are killing precious bogs and I don’t want to be a party to bog death. I perked right up at the mention of coconut coir in this post and did just a little searching and found that it’s available by the brick and bale. I’m curious now – has anyone has used it either in or as a potting medium? What’s your source? Did you and your plants like it? Do you have any other peat-free potting medium recommendations? Enquiring gardeners want to know!

And if everyday is action day (sometimes action is not about Activism…) the volunteers have had a couple very active days! Here’s a before and after of the Cutting Bed – note that Gail and I have allowed the Asclepias physocarpa ‘Oscar’ (a.k.a. Hairy balls) to live on for the time being!… Next week we’ll be planting tulips.

And the Fairies have been pretty active too. The fairy family at 4 Dust Ave. has acquired some overstuffed furniture! Looks like they’re still working out how to get it up the stairs and down the hall…

Blog Action Day and Garden Blogger’s Bloom Day are two for one subjects for my post today. Read on for Action and click on for bigger images and names of what’s in bloom (I don’t think the subjects are unrelated!)

Nearly 16,000 voices are speaking on blogs all over the world wide interweb today on the subject of the environment. The parameters are pretty broad – we’re asked to publish a post about the environment in any way that relates to our usual topic in order to begin a global conversation. There are so many relevant environmental issues to gardening – where to begin? Where to end?!

I think it might begin and end with stewardship. When I first heard about Blog Action Day, I immediately thought of the couple in Cranston, RI who wrote an inspiring letter last year to Blithewold’s director of horticulture. They are concerned about climate change and took the call to plant trees for carbon sequestration seriously. When they ran out of room in their own garden, they decided to plant (so far, about a dozen) trees at Blithewold because, in their words “Blithewold is guided by a vision of stewardship wherein trees are welcomed, valued, nurtured.” Planting trees at the equator is immensely important but it’s also important, like the bumpersticker says, to think globally and act locally.

Gardeners (like mountain climbers and deep sea divers) are intimately involved with the Earth’s crust and in a unique position to pay attention and take care of our own little patch. We can exploit the Earth or we can leave no trace. We can (pretend to) have dominion over all living things or we can share the caretaking responsibilities with fellow critters like bacteria, worms, bees, spiders…

Blithewold is a 33 acre patch of planet Earth with lawns, trees and flowering gardens. We cannot call ourselves an organic garden although we try to make careful choices and weigh the visitors’ experience with our personal tolerances of garden chemistry. Thinking globally, it’s come to the point where sacrifices have to be made locally. Gail and I refuse to treat the Rose Garden with pesticides and non-organic fertilizers. As a result of that choice the roses decline from blackspot and beetle infestation and the visitors’ midsummer enjoyment of that garden is diminished. This year we interplanted the roses with shrubs and flowering annuals. The roses didn’t look any better but the garden as a whole did and visitors raved.

We know when we’re doing it right. Any garden full of bees, birds, mantises, worms and butterflies is bound to be balanced and healthy. These creatures are the world’s canaries in the coal mine and rather than wait to be alarmed by global colony collapse, gardeners can be (and even have an obligation to be) mindful and preemptively careful.

I love paying attention and being in tune with a patch (especially this particular patch) of the planet and participating in the care of it. I think what I do locally does make a difference globally and I pledge to continue my daily education in how to be a better gardener and earth steward. — Who’s with me?!

This week we’ve had cool nights, a little rain, and no frost yet but the garden is just beginning to have a tattered Fall fading Miss Havesham Raggedy Annie sort of look to it. I’ve always had a soft spot for those characters and I am as facinated with the coming apart at the seams Fall as I am with the fresh flush of Spring baby growth. I spent days watching this fellow (left) – a monarch who has obviously been around the block and has lived as fully as flutterbyly possible. Right near where it was anchored, a butterfly’s worth of wings were on the ground looking for all the world like there had been a bar brawl. Gail watched our guy gimp off flying out of reach yesterday. (Amazing that it could still get loft with all those holes!)

The excuse of rain gave volunteers their first days off in a while and kept us in the greenhouse. I finally potted up some things that have been making me cringe all summer. The Container Bed was short shrifted this year because of other garden projects. We didn’t buy any new special specimens and potting-up the ones we already have was not a priority (can there be more than one priority?) and was so far down the list of things to do that it just didn’t happen. Now though, I’m putting potting-up at the top of the list (priority number 2 or 3 at least)! This Agave americana ‘Mediopicta Alba’ was heaving itself out of its pot (like this bromeliad had) and you can see why – the roots had nowhere to go but up and the babies were hurling themselves up and out. Mother and children should be happier and healthier now.

I love and covet things like Agaves but have a slightly conflicted feeling about keeping them even in a greenhouse. Are potted plants like caged animals? Do they long to run free? When I see pictures of Agaves in their preferred environment I think “yeah – that’s a happy plant!” But then I want it and the cycle of guilt and plant torture continues… I know there are some gardeners out there (who are you? – speak up!) who won’t keep plants indoors. As conflicted as I am sometimes, the pleasure I take in green growing around me (especially in the winter) outweighs the guilt and I know I will always bring the garden in.

And speaking of gardening in – Gail and I are teaching a terrarium class tomorrow and that, I think, is one of the best kinds of indoor gardens. It’s self-contained, pretty self-sufficient and the plants seem to not think it’s torture – actually any diminutive plant that likes a warm, moist environment thrives on jarred benign neglect – now that’s my kind of garden!

I plan to post about jar garden how-tos next week (the class is full) but first stay tuned on Monday for Blog Action Day (thousands of bloggers around the world -plus me- will be writing about the environment) and Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day.

All good things must come to an end? That’s definitely not my kind of philosophy but it was a little bit true in the Display Garden today. The mansion is closed for the season and it’s time for us to start working on next year’s gardens: Hopefully, if funds and weather allow, Fred and Dan will be able to continue the Display Garden redesign this winter. The Idea Beds are next on their list. Gail and I want to save most of the perennials and shrubs from those beds and decided to move most of them, at least temporarily to the new Display Garden beds (the Ellipse and Stone Bench Beds).

So today we and the Deadheads had the heartbreaking task of ripping the tender stuff out of the still beautifully blooming Ellipse Bed to make room. The Deadheads made the best of it though and cut flowers to take home and some even took a plant or two to winter over. Gail and I chose plants to take in for “stock” and took dozens of last minute cuttings from the garden before the digging, wrenching and hurling started.

We probably should have been more conscious of the resident critters – this mantis found shelter in the chaos but I wonder how many we inadvertently evicted?

Getting started with our first fall project was actually pretty fun and if we think of it as more of a beginning than an end … then all good things must keep on!

Today dawned damp and foggy. Whenever the air and water temperatures duke it out, we get horizonless vistas, amplified sounds and a glimpse of the world wide spiderwebs — rather than obliviously crashing into spidy infrastructure, this morning we could see all of the guy wires and danced the limbo through the bosquet.

We’re getting on with the move in because even with warm nights continuing in the forecast it’s a good idea to at least start thinking about bringing plants in.
Remember how you gently weaned your houseplants to the outdoors last spring? They want that love in the fall too – bringing them some cold day into an already heated house could be a little shocking! Gail and I are starting with the succulents. In the greenhouse, the temperature climbs to the 90’s on a sunny day, and because there’s nothing much in there for us to water yet, the humidity stays pretty low. Our tender succulents will much prefer to bake a few extra days in the hot dryish than sit in the cool damp of day starts and stops lately – they should be shocked into thrive with the change.

As we load plants to carts, we groom them and set any aside that are in desparate need of repotting or special t.l.c. – This is another reason we plan ahead and stick to our schedule regardless of the weather – it takes time and it’s an important step for anyone bringing houseplants back inside for the season. Check for bugs and treat them; take off scrunky leaves, and repot! This mother bromeliad had several children and -poor rootbound thing- was launching herself out of her pot. With some of the kids detatched and a brand new house, she already looks less suicidal!

I think this might be a good long weekend to tend to your soon-to-be indoor garden. I’m on my way home and have every intention of taking my own advice! What will you do this weekend?