All in all, we were very lucky here. A few trees came down, a bunch of big limbs, and a million-gazillion twigs but nothing extra-precious was lost. There was no damage to any building or structure and even the gardens came through just fine. Plants were a little tumbled but totally OK. As a matter of fact, the Rock Garden, which we were so worried about, looks untouched. It was never under water and must have been protected from the wind too. And the vegetable garden was still in such good shape, aside from a few toppled tomatoes, that thanks to the Tuesday volunteers, we donated 135 lbs. of produce to the East Bay Food Pantry yesterday! (The tomatoes that Gail, Dick and Tree picked before the storm also made up a good chunk of that total.) We did lose power but only for a couple of days and the greenhouse generator hummed right through. We were very lucky.

Mid-day Wednesday and the chipper is finally quiet. First thing Monday morning a pair of extra-strong junior super heroes named Luke and Adam, their parents (one of whom is Blithewold’s executive director), our closest neighbors from the north cottage, and Gail and I started piling downed branches and twigs; and Fred and Dan have worked all along, well into the evenings chipping those branches, felling dangerous hangers, sawing up logs, blowing leaves, mowing, and making sure the property is safe and tidy again for visitors. We’re finally open again today. We are so lucky. I hope you are too.

(Click on pictures for a better view.)

Along with everyone else along the Eastern Seaboard, we’re battening down the hatches and doing whatever we can to prepare for what looks to be a sizable storm. Some of us (that’s me) can’t help but remember last year’s hurricane-that-wasn’t: Good old Earl passed us right by and it’s tempting to think that maybe forecasters are crying wolf again with this one. But then there are others of us (not me) who were here for Hurricane Bob, 20 years ago last week. During that storm, Blithewold lost about 40 trees and another 40 plus died soon after. So we’re all (me too) watching this storm closely; doing what we can to prepare, and taking it very seriously.

Gail, Tara and I moved our most fragile container plants along with any that might act like sails or projectiles back into the greenhouse yesterday. And then Gail and I spent part of today moving a few more inside, tipping others on their side, and memorizing the gardens and taking pictures. It is a beautiful day – the calm before the storm…

The Rock Garden is the most vulnerable garden on the property because it’s so close to the Narragansett Bay shore. The storm surge is expected to be a big one and as it will be coupled with a high moon tide, that garden will likely be submerged sometime Sunday. And the North Garden is so exposed at the top of the Great Lawn that it’s the most likely to be wind damaged. We re-staked all of the dahlias and have to hope for the best. In the display garden, which is fairly protected by the bamboo grove and hedgerow of trees along the property line, we re-staked the dahlias and decided to allow the burnet (Sanguisorba tenuifolia) to flop onto crutches (a crisscross of bamboo stakes to protect other plants) so that they maybe won’t get wind-whipped. And Dick, Gail and Tree (Blithewold’s director of communications) went through and picked every ripe and almost ripe tomato from the vegetable garden.

Fred and Dan removed the shade sails from the arbor, some garden ornaments, and all of the outdoor furniture. Blithewold’s curator, Margaret has been securing the mansion’s archives – moving everything away from windows and covering furniture and artifacts with plastic. We’ll be closed for visitation for the whole weekend; tours have been cancelled and the tent will be taken down. The only thing left to do is wait – and watch.

Are you glued to the forecast too? What are you doing to prepare your garden and home for the storm?

Being surrounded by beautiful flowers, interesting foliage and delicious fragrance is great and all but I think the best reason to grow a garden might be for the privilege of sharing it with a few of nature’s other creatures. This morning in the pollinator garden I came nose to nose with a hummingbird (who obviously, was much quicker than I…) Our little moment together would have been fairly unlikely had I been standing on of an expanse of lawn instead of in the middle of a garden full of his favorite flowers. Plus where else can you, if you train your eyes to see, easily find praying mantis hanging out?

And honestly, is there anything better than a bucketful of frogs? Blithewold’s Camp Sequoia kiddos have been monitoring the frogs’ progress all summer from tadpole to poliwog (froglet?) to today’s wee teensie frogs. They’ve been finding all sorts of other creatures in their nets too like dragonfly larvae and water striders. Any garden that mimics nature the way the water garden does will be full to bursting with activity. Fascinating to watch – and catch.

Of course nature will occasionally send a message that a close encounter can be too close… For all we cultivate and maintain, gardens are still wild places. – Or so the bumblebee told me on Monday. But for anyone who isn’t fatally allergic, a little pain and swelling is a small price to pay for getting such a good view of their way of life.

It seems like the activity in the gardens is ramping up to a frenzy (or maybe the critters all think a hurricane is coming) – have you had close encounters of the natural kind lately too?