Open any one of William Cullina’s books and you’ll get a good idea of the sort of person he is (our kind) and if you’re me, you’ll read cover to cover and learn something new on each page. Invite him to speak, and you’ll have the pleasure of meeting one of the most articulate, knowledgeable, and down-to-earth horticulturists on Earth. For Blithewold’s annual Garden Design Luncheon fundraiser yesterday, Bill tailored a talk drawn from both his latest book, Understanding Perennials: A New Look at an Old Favorite, as well as his latest design work as Plants and Garden Curator at Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens (where a single garden’s plants budget exceeds our wildest dreams by many 10’s of K’s). I’m still trying to process all that he packed into his lecture and although I’m inclined to use this post as a memory jog, I’ll try my best to stick to a few highlights instead.

From bare-dirt beginnings of garden design all the way through to the whys and wherefores of fuzz and variegation on foliage, Bill illustrated no-brainer suggestions and basic botany in a way that I think, like me, everyone must have been having “Why didn’t I think of that?” and “Oh, now I get it!” epiphanies at each turn of the slides. One slide from Bill’s own garden illustrated exactly how a layer of good compost on terrible hardpan has the power to transform mere dirt into soil plants will thrive in. With another set of slides Bill suggested layering a photograph of the garden site with tracing paper to sketch rough ideas. (- Now, I take dozens of pictures almost daily and I have a roll of tracing paper in my closet, but have I ever put the two together? Have you?) And because texture, much more than color, is a major garden design consideration, he also suggested using photo editing software to blur the focus and desaturate color to work out what textural elements are working in the garden and which ones aren’t. (Another idea I wish I had already had.)

He said that one way to add contrast into the garden is to include shrubs and trees in the design – something we’re all inclined to do lately for ease of maintenance reasons – the only danger being that eventually the garden could become a woodland. He recommends preserving the garden’s scale by coppicing or cutting back to the ground those shrubs and trees, during dormancy, every year or two or three. To me it really seems worth fearlessness and further research to determine which plants (such as his example of Magnolia macrophylla) respond especially well to that treatment.

I remember some of what I learned in the botany survey classes I took in college but Bill has a way of making the biology of plant processes relevant to our gardens, utterly fascinating and useful from a design standpoint. The next time any of us buys a plant we’ll be thinking of where it was grown and whether it’s been forced into a fragile stage of life. We have a better understanding of the mechanisms of foliage and how that determines placement within our gardens, and he illuminated some of the paths bugs – good and bad – use to find our plants. All of this is and much, much more – “everything you ever wanted to know about perennials but were afraid to ask” – is covered in his latest book and if you couldn’t make it to the luncheon, I hope you’ll at least treat yourself to a copy of that.

Did you attend the lecture or have you read any of Bill’s books? What were your favorite highlights?

If you tell someone you found it in “Dirr” they’ll know you mean the Manual of Woody Landscape Plants: Their Identification, Ornamental Characteristics, Culture, Propagation and Uses (now in its 6th edition). But Michael A. Dirr, PhD has also written The Book on viburnums (Viburnums: Flowering Shrubs for Every Season), The Book on hydrangeas (Hydrangeas for American Gardens) co-written by his wife Bonnie, and several other coffee-table-worthy, destined-to-be-dogeared reference books. What makes his books worth consulting – and reading from cover to cover – is not just the breadth of information but that they’re thick with pithy opinions. I found out yesterday that Mike is just as entertaining and full of it (I mean knowledge) in person.

Mike’s slides were, unfortunately, a little tough to see due to the brilliance of a perfect day but the afternoon tree tour of the University of Blithewold (it felt like a campus yesterday) was a spectacular pleasure. I’m still trying to process it all. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one in the group of local industry professionals, savvy cognoscenti and at least one fellow blogger, straining to catch every second of his mile-a-minute professorial banter. Everyone looked as riveted, and by the end of the day, as overwhelmed as I felt. I’m so relieved that there’s not going to be a quiz – but I’ll try to recap just a little for you.

The event was co-sponsored by the New England chapter of the International Society of Arboriculture, and the topics – fitting for that group and ours – were noble trees and new introductions. Mike pointed out that you always know a noble tree when you see it – you don’t even have to know what it is, just that it has a venerable stature, grace, beauty and presence. It’s a squirrel highway and a landmark and Blithewold is blessedly full of them. It most certainly isn’t a Bradford pear (Pyrus calleryana) which has become not only the most ubiquitous street tree but has turned out to be invasive as well. And certainly not enough truly noble trees are being planted today for the benefit of future generations. Have you planted any? Which ones? Do you have a favorite noble tree? (Mine is a particular linden in a particular Middletown garden – even though – or because – I’ve nearly been knocked cold a couple of times by its enormous akimbo elbows.)

It is new introductions of trees and shrubs that keep the industry on its toes. Mike and Bonnie are on the constant look-out for unusual traits in trees and shrubs and have had a few “85 mph” drive-by finds introduced into commerce. (Keep your eyes peeled for a new redbud called ‘Bonnie’s Pink’.) We all want something new and different (we can’t help it) and with a trained eye any one of us could find the next winner, have it tested, propagated and introduced. The lesson I take from that is simply to pay more attention even to the old stand-by, tried-and-trues. How is it that I never in my life really noticed a hornbeam before yesterday? The professor in Mike brought out the student in me. I’m still interested all over again. And I’ve got a(helluva) lot to learn and a few of my own opinions to cultivate. How about you?

I still haven’t seen any of our super scary yellow and black orb-web spiders, but it’s been a week of other frights – which of course makes me think of Halloween even though we’re still miles away. On Tuesday the “Deadheads” discovered no fewer than a baker’s dozen candy-corn colored caterpillars on one of our butterfly weeds (Asclepias tuberosa). But these were no ordinary monarch or swallowtail – even my favorite i.d. book, Garden Insects by Whitney Cranshaw failed me on this one. Thank goodness for google. They are Milkweed tussock or tiger moth caterpillars (Euchaetes egle) and their vacuum-roller-brush lashes render them completely unappealing to most hungry birds, or so I would imagine. (This caterpillar currently tops my list for what I want to be for Halloween.)

Cathy (Harvestmeister) discovered who was devouring the last of the cherry tomato plants. I might be blamed for helping myself to some of the tomatoes but this tomato hornworm was  filling up on foliage. We let him be though because a parasitic wasp has already laid claim, so to speak. Tomato hornworms can reach up to 4″ or so in length though this one is probably only about 2″.  I wonder if the tusk on their hind is a bird deterrant – though if not, I can’t imagine being covered in wasp cocoons is very appealing either. The braconid wasp, which lays its eggs on the hornworm is considered a beneficial parasitoid. Any time their eggs are observed on a hornworm, the hornworm should be left alone so that the wasp can keep doing what it does best. And when the hornworm grows up (if it’s not eaten by wasp larvae), it becomes the Sphinx moth a.k.a the hummingbird moth which has an impressive wingspan of 4-5″. It’s a bird of another feather for sure and a pollinator to boot.

Speaking of things that are larger than life, Augustus van Wribbit is back in our cement pond and easily twice his former size. I wonder what he’s been eating… We’re so glad the Display Garden’s guard is back at his post.

And speaking of garden guards, the “History of the Scarecrow” exhibit is being installed near our vegetable bed just in time for Blithewold’s Autumn Splendor series of events. No doubt our Brussels sprouts and spinach will be extra safe from crow predation due to the row of formidable scarecrow examples from Ancient Egypt (the very creepiest) all the way to the Wizard of Oz. These days, I kind of think our gardens might be better served by Deerbullies or Groundhoghorrifiers. Perhaps examples of those will be displayed next year…

Is there anything scary in your garden yet?

There’s nothing in the world that beats a car trunk full of new plants. Gail and I went off today to try and find a couple of things to fill a couple of holes in the Rose Garden – where three of our new(ish) daphnes bit the dust. – They do that, don’tcha-know. It’s a heart-breaker but we still love them. Anyway, we came back with some things that probably won’t be permanent solutions for that bed but that we couldn’t possibly live without – even though, at least in one instance, we didn’t even know such plants existed. But isn’t that all the fun of going plant shopping?

Along with a thing or two that we couldn’t resist for our own gardens at home (what is it with me and aggressive plants? Don’t even ask about the wisteria peeking out from the truck – at least it’s the native one), we noticed a delicate shrub with a tag that read “Wikstroemia (very rare)”. Well, call it rare and we call it ours: We bought the last two. Wikstroemia trichotoma, I just found out, is closely related to Daphne (hmmmm…) and will grow to a 3′ or so mound and blooms from mid to late summer. The blooms are just visible in the photo – on the branch tips. Use your magnifier because they’re the cutest, tiniest things.

Now is such a great time for renewing a diminished interest in the garden with a little shop therapy. Not only are many nurseries and garden centers slashing prices in hopes of reducing stock before winter but heading into the cool, rainy season just happens to be the most perfect time to plant.

Speaking of perfect timing, we came back to the potting shed to find William Cullina’s latest tome on our desk. In Understanding Perennials – A New Look at an Old Favorite, he goes into the science of herbaceous perennials from roots to stems to leaves to flowers and he answers questions I’ve had like, “why are some leaves fuzzy?” and “why does the pitcher plant have spots?” Not only that but because his chapter called “Cultivation With an Ecological Eye” has the subheadings “They Are My Babies!” and Why Do the Most Expensive Plants Die the Fastest?” I just know from that that he is my kind – our kind – of people. And how happy am I that Bill is coming to Blithewold to speak at our Garden Design Luncheon? – So happy! Save the date (Thursday, November 12th) or better yet, register right now.

I want to make it very clear that no matter how hot and awful it is outside right now I am not ready for fall. So just in case you’ve got your hand on the season machine dial, please don’t turn it yet on my account. But even if we’re not ready for it, there are a few gentle hints of a change that are hard to ignore – dark mornings, lengthening light in the afternoon, and that one little red branch on all of the tupelos. Fall is for the trees but if you don’t mind I’d like to draw your attention away from the gardens (as if!) for a quick minute now – a little early, I know – to show off a tree I’ve never before mentioned on the blog and quickly tell you about a must-do up-coming event.

With a name like “Wingnut”, it’s actually surprising I haven’t mentioned this tree since that’s my favorite term of endearment for all of the loons in my circle of friends and family. But our little trio of Chinese wingnuts or Pterocarya stenoptera didn’t even show up on my radar until sometime in the last couple-three years. And then, just last week, Fred pointed out that one of them was all dressed up in nuts.

I had thought the wingnut was a big shrub or a small tree since ours are branched out low and very nearly spherical in shape. But if I think back, it seems they have been growing at a fairly prodigious rate and according to everything I’ve read, they’re destined to become enormous shade trees “which can be successfully used for large areas such as parks, schools, and golf courses…” according to Michael Dirr in his Manual of Woody Landscape Plants. So this is probably not a tree you’ll thank me for recommending for your own garden – unless you happen to have acres of park. We might have to be content with watching them grow here.

Chinese wingnuts are members of the walnut family (Juglandaceae) and prefer the usual cultural requirements – you know, fertile, moist well drained soil in full sun – but can tolerate tougher conditions once established and are hardy from USDA zones 6-9. Their feature of note and the reason I’ve pulled this post away from the gardens is that inconspicuous spring flowers are followed by the coolest strands of dangling nuts. Long pendulous chains fall from each branch like the fringe on a cowboy’s jacket. And the individual winged nuts look like they could just fly away. But before they fly, they’ll hang on for a while and turn brown as the tree’s lacy foliage turns yellow in the fall. Do you know this tree? Have you seen one full grown and bedecked?

Since I went and mentioned fall… Please mark September 28th on your calendar because, co-sponsored with the New England Chapter of the International Society of Arboriculture, the one and only Michael Dirr is coming to Blithewold for a day of slideshow lectures and a tree tour of the property. I can’t imagine missing that! For more information, click here.

It was an Out Like a Lamb kind of day yesterday and we spent a portion of it in the mansion’s dining room with as many of the garden volunteers as we could coax into a sit-back-and-relax luncheon.  I can’t possibly convey how tough it is to get this group to not work!  Even though many of them have already started working in the greenhouse and gardens, Gail and Julie and I wanted to kick off the season with a slightly ceremonious (and savory) Welcome Back and a Thank You for their dedication, hard work and good humor.  As Gail told them, they fulfill Blithewold’s mission by inspiring us and we absolutely couldn’t do what we do without them – plus they make  our jobs much more fun.  And even though the mansion is a little dark and a little chilly on a warm and sunny spring day, I thought the atmosphere in the dining room was totally cozy.

As we head into April, it feels like the gardens are welcoming us all back too.  The Trout lilies (Erythronium) are emerging, the Iris reticulata are blooming away, the Red maples are just bursting flowers out of bud, and many of the daffodils are even starting to show a little leg.  It won’t be long now.  The daffodils typically peak at Blithewold during the 3rd week in April but I wouldn’t be surprised if this year’s show was a titch earlier.  Warm days and cool nights keeps them in a one foot forward two back kind of dance.  More shall be revealed and you can count on me for updates if not accurate forecasting.

Speaking of updates, tomorrow is our blogiversary!  I’d like to thank everyone who clicks into the blog and I’d like to send a special Thank You out to all of you who have ever chimed in on the conversation, whether in the comments box, via email, or in actual person.  I feel like I’ve made some amazing friends – that’s a bonus I certainly didn’t foresee when I started.  And I’d like to welcome you all back for a third blog year, and another Blithewold growing season.  Garden on!

We’ve all been busy at Blithewold decorating for the holidays and Gail and I have had the particular pleasure of being reacquainted with the abundance of evergreens on the property.  The other day we walked all over dragging a cart and a ladder and picked for wreaths and outdoor arrangements.  (For last year’s DIY wreath post, click here.)

During the spring, summer and fall, trees like this Cryptomeria japonica (right) are like background music to me.  If the evergreens suddenly disappeared from the landscape I might think, “Huh.  Seems like it just got a little quieter in here…” but now that the leaves are off the deciduous divas, the evergreens’ volume has swelled and their tune has become the title theme.

Here are some of the trees we love to pick from:

Any Chamaecyparis (False Cypress) we can get our paws on.  Especially:

Chamaecyparis pisifera ‘Filifera Aurea’ (Golden threadleaf cypress).  Ours glows a gorgeous limey yellow in partial shade.  We have picked from this tree for so many years that it has developed a sort of scoop out of the sunny side so we’ll give it a bit of a break this year.   This photo on the right is of the straight ‘Filifera’ which is loaded with tiny soccer ball cones.

Chamaecyparis pisifera ‘Squarrosa’ (Moss cypress) has soft frothy gray-blue tufts at the branch ends and an airy openness to the tree.  This one is my favorite for making a fluffy wreath.

Chamaecyparis obtusa (Hinoki cypress).  I love this one too because it’s a thick green-green with a certain weightiness and the foliage looks to me like plumage.  (The photos just don’t do it justice!)

I walk by this Thujopsis dolobrata ‘Variegata’ (Variegated Hiba arborvitae) in the Enclosed Garden nearly every day and it’s only when I go to pick from it that I remember to notice how spectacularly special it is.  And I do love variegated things with leaves shaped like lobster claws.  This tree grows slowly to about 30′ and needs wind protection.

Juniperus virginiana (Eastern red cedar) is nearly everywhere around here (I have 3 in my own tiny yard!) and looks great in a wreath or arrangement even if the birds have gotten to the berries before you.  I found one last cluster of berries – and aren’t I nice because I left the branch for the birds…

Do you cut greens (or buy some) for wreaths and arrangements?  What are your favorites?  And what are your favorite evergreens in the landscape?

Picking greens always brings out the forager and hoarder in Gail – she’s every bit as happy as anyone at Filene’s Bargain Basement who’s just found the best deal on scarves.  She collected some excellent cones and pods which I’ll have to show you in a later post…

Meanwhile have a very Happy Thanksgiving!  And if you’re ready for Christmas, Christmas at Blithewold is ready for you. “This Bright and Merry Wood” was the inspiration for the volunteer decorators who decked the halls like never before – there’s even a fairy room!  The mansion opens for the holiday season the day after Thanksgiving – for more info click here.  (and, of course, the grounds are always open!)

“Nothing lasts.”  That might sound pessimistic to the average bear but to a gardener it’s a liberating, life affirming and exciting truth.

Yesterday a lucky group of gardeners and Blithewold supporters had the pleasure of listening to and laughing with Margaret Roach (former editor of Martha Stewart Magazine) as she talked about 365 days of gardening on her property in the Berkshires.  She showed slides of her garden’s transformation from a steep hillside populated with fallingdown outbuildings and plastic lawn furniture to a steep hillside of gorgeous gardens, meadow and fabulous mountain views.  We were treated to full disclosure of hilarious rookie mistakes, tragic losses, happy accidents and sublime moments – what gardening is all about.  Margaret encouraged us to defy “conventional wisdom” whenever our gardens require us to be more creative.  Question authority (even when the authority is Martha Stewart)!  Be willing to learn from and laugh at the mistakes you make along the way.  And suffer the failures and losses with the hope and optimism of fresh opportunity (new plants!).

Margaret also gently chided us for saying “the season has ended”.  For her, and you can read her philosophy on her blog A Way to Garden, the garden year begins with “conception” and continues through to “senescence” and death.  Nothing lasts – but the whole process is precious.  To ignore or deny the truth and beauty of the garden’s decline is to miss part of the point of gardening – as much as denying a bud in spring.  We gardeners know it’s true and yet it’s a good reminder to hear a kindred spirit say it out loud.  Maybe don’t be in such a rush to clean up, she says and enjoy the fade.  And even if you’re like me – ready for a break, inclined to be indoors when it’s cold out – go back outside – in your p.j.s if that’s what you’re wearing, and take another look at the garden.

This year’s Garden Design Luncheon was a roaring sold out success – everyone involved with organizing it did a fabulous job – and I overheard all sorts of buzzing about how wonderful Margaret’s talk was.  For me, the day was extra special:  Not only did I have the honor of walking around Blithewold with Margaret (sadly, the frogs were chilly and anti-social), but I also sat in the fun-seat next to Layanee and her friend Lois at lunch (it was like being at the kid’s table).  Layanee promoted the luncheon on her radio show (The Garden Guys – and Gal), gave away tickets and also took the beautiful portrait of Margaret shown above.  Thank you, Layanee!

In honor of Margaret’s visit, for Garden Bloggers Bloom Day (hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens), here are some of mid-November’s gray hairs at Blithewold:

What’s growing old in your garden?

Things are really looking up around here.  I have to say that I still have goosebumps and this weirdly giddy feeling that must be called “hope”.  Rhode Islanders, regardless of a devastatingly stinky economy (did you know that we now have the embarrassing distinction of having the highest unemployment rate in the country?), passed three expensive ballot measures that all look toward what I think must be a brighter future.  (Hope is our state’s motto, by the way and any gardener’s word to live by.)  So don’t let rough roads and bridges keep you from visiting Blithewold – they’ll be fixed and we have even allowed funding for the purchase and protection of open spaces!  And near and dear to my heart, Bristol voters have willingly increased their property taxes to pay for a new animal shelter (all three of my kids used to reside in the current shelter building which is like a festering sore.  Now these two scamps live in my aspidistra.)  It seems to me like a gardener’s mentality has taken hold in the general populace – we gardeners know that we have an active hand in making things grow and thrive and even when we’re at our most cynical, we’re optimistically planning for the future.

Things are looking up here at Blithewold too.  The roofers have arrived with scaffolding and slate and will begin the first phase of a project that will ensure that the house and archives will be protected from rain and snow for another 100 years at least.  The good news for me, selfishly, was the excuse for a panoramic photo op with side order of vertigo.

And there’s so much to look forward to next week when Margaret Roach, famous fellow blogger from A Way to Garden and former editor of Martha Stewart Magazine speaks to us at our annual Garden Design Luncheon.  Again, selfishly, I’m hoping for a photo op and a chance for some heart to heart girl talk about frogs.  It looks like registration for this not-to-be-missed event is filling up so pull up a chair while you still can.  (click here for more info)

Some of what is up must come down:  Nick the Willing shredded the majority of our first fall of leaves yesterday.  The pile pictured is the pathetic looking result of the 2 or so hours of shredding I did earlier in the week.  Nick’s pile is much more impressive and I think we’re well on our way to having enough.  Although, Gail always says “That’s it?  We need MORE!”  And of course she’s right.  Gail and I will use Nick’s leaf pile for mulching all of the Display Garden beds next year and if we’re on the ball, we’ll get some leaves down soon on the paths in the Cutting Garden.  We also spread a leaf and grass mix from the mowers all over Dick’s vegetable bed – he thought it did wonders for the soil last year and was easier to deal with than sowing and tilling winter rye.  In the Rock Garden I spread a thin blanket of pine needles which makes the garden look tucked in for the winter even though we traditionally don’t put that garden “to bed” by cutting things back.  We’ll have to keep an eye on the pH of the soil though since pine needles are especially acidic.

Do you use shredded leaves or pine needles as mulch or do you add your leaves to the compost?  (Don’t tell me you put them out with the trash!  -Some of my neighbors do that and it’s all I can do to not trash pick – I need MORE!  They already think I’m nuts.)

I am often asked, usually when I’m away from work, when would be the best time to visit Blithewold.  And of course I say, “It’s always a good time to visit Blithewold!  Why aren’t you there right now?”  I really do think there’s always something beautiful to see to make a visit worthwhile.  But. There’s honestly truly no time like the present.

I know gardeners.  (It takes one to know one.)  We’d all love to get out and see gardens when they’re fresh and lovely in the spring but that’s when our own gardens are their most demanding.  And high summer is … well … it’s the middle of summer.  It can be hot and awful.  That’s when I tend to get easily exhausted and there’s watering to be done and then a nap in the shade or a swim in the ocean is about all I can be talked into.  How about you?

Come September I’m willing to leave my own garden – if only to procrastinate weeding – and find inspiration elsewhere.  It’s time to plant and divide and move and replant in the garden and as the season winds down I have a real need to get jazzed about the whole process again.

But we’re not winding down here the way my garden at home is winding down.  It’s more like we’ve just hit our stride.  So right now is a/the perfect time to visit Blithewold!  The light is just right – even blazing midday won’t fade these colors and the temperature is ideal for a walk and a linger.

Fall Gardener’s Day is coming up next weekend (September 20th, 10 – 2:00) and promises plenty of inspiration and information plus a little shop therapy and a raffle gamble.  Mike Chute, Master Rosarian will talk about hellebores — just kidding!  Mike will be talking about preparing roses for a New England winter.  Blithewold’s own Dan Christina, (assistant grounds manager) will talk about his favorite thing – miniature gardens; Gail and I will do a tag team demo on our favorite thing – terrariums. (–Is it odd that we all spend our work days on 33 grand acres and go home to tend and gaze at tiny gardenlets?)  Super star volunteer and plantsman, Gil Moore will teach propagation (better he than me!); Bonnie Kavanagh, an herbalist will lead an herb walk; Emily Gedney, nutritionist and food writer will talk about eating local food in season and do a tasty cooking demo; learn how to make paper from textile designer, Robyn Borges; and The Good Earth gurus, Joyce and John Holscher will talk about organic gardening. It promises to be an eventful event and I hope to see you here!

And if you can’t be here, where will you go for September inspiration?