The boundary between this world and the next is said to be thin right now. – Personally I think it’s on the thin side most days but it’s good to have a reason to honor the ancestors and welcome them back among us. Blithewold’s family is never far from here and our hearts – they live on through the property and our collective love of it. And I feel certain that they were overseeing our work yesterday as a few volunteers finished burying the undead (the tulips!) in the North Garden.

I thought it was only fitting for this Halloween post to visit the place where some of the ancestors have been laid to rest. Juniper Hill Cemetery is a 19th century garden cemetery, which is a type of burial ground designed as much for the solace of the living as it is to house the dead. Juniper Hill is a place of pure quiet and deep shade on a hill overlooking Bristol harbor and, these days, seems forgotten by all but a few dog walkers (and the Bristol Historical Society which offers grave and tree tours occasionally). I have to admit that I visit this place weekly, if not daily, but I think it has never been more sublimely beautiful than it is right now.

Happy Halloween!

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.

What is it about someone else’s garden that can make even ordinary plants look extra special and precious? Once a month or so during the summer, Blithewold offers a great treat called an Intimate Garden Tour and this past week we were invited for a slow meander inside Wildacre on Ocean Drive in Newport. Wildacre was originally designed by Fredrick Law Olmstead (of Central Park fame) for his brother and has been beautifully preserved and restored by one of Blithewold’s favorite benefactors and is now listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It was, for me, the kind of garden that is so extra-ordinary and so site specific that I really couldn’t glean any particular ideas for my own garden but then – I didn’t want to. It was enough just to trespass and enjoy and to borrow the whole of it fully intact inside my mind’s eye (and on digital file too, of course).

The gardens are meticulously tended by 3 gardeners – one of whom we were told spent the entire day replacing moss and sedum that the birds had just seen fit to fling about – and has been decorated with a whimsically elegant sense of folly by its owner. Although it has always been described as being a relatively flower-free garden, the sedums and peonies were in full glorious bloom and a wonderfully floriferous butterfly garden is a work currently in progress. And every plant and every element (unlike my own garden) was in perfect scale with the garden as a whole.

Rocky crags, softly planted and serene cove views beyond a vertigo inducing edge-less infinity pool took our blissed out eyes in all directions and stone steps led us on tiptoe from lookout to lookout. I am so unaccustomed to visiting private gardens that I found myself feeling like a reluctant but obsessed peeping Tom – I wanted to see it all and memorize it and take it with me but it also seemed like such a personal and private place that I didn’t want to intrude either. I think that’s all part of the fun of getting these glimpses of someone else’s garden, whether it’s someone we know and admire or a perfect stranger. And even though I didn’t bring back any specific ideas, seeing Wildacre gave me a fresh perspective on the gardens here at Blithewold and my own at home. I hope that our gardens give a similar impression of being truly beloved and perfectly situated.  Do you ever go on private garden tours? What do you bring home?

Next month an entirely different sort of garden for entirely different perpective will be open in Portsmouth, RI! For more information and to register click here.

Nearly everyone is badmouthing the weather.  We are all, universally it seems, ready for spring by which we might all mean summer.  We want to be warm now and surrounded by green growth and flowers now.  We’re ready!  Even Gail and I, enveloped as we are in the greenhouse by warmth and growing plants, need a little hort therapy to hold the crankies at bay.  So off we went today to Roseland Nursery in Acushnet, MA and since we were in the neighborhood, we stopped in at Allen Haskell’s in New Bedford, MA too.

I’m glad I made out a wish list for shopping at Roseland (more on that later).  I knew it would be acres of naked canes but it was truly acres of naked canes!  There were more roses than I have ever seen in one place and  I can only imagine what the nursery looks like – and smells like – in June.  I plan on going back no matter how crazy busy I am then – I’m sure a break and some aroma therapy will be more than necessary.

Same thing for Haskell’s – I will make every effort to get back there because it was certainly worth the trip even to walk through the greenhouses. And seeing the bones and early blooms in their display gardens has me anxious to see it again in full summer dress.  Plus we enjoyed a little ornithological therapy too – I didn’t know about their gorgeous collection of multicolored Asian pheasants. (Gail actually bonded with one of them.)

Of course it’s also therapeutic to walk through Blithewold – even for us and even in the rain.  Daffodil Days begins this weekend and there are already a lot of blooms on the property.  If you’re waiting for the daffodils to peak before you visit, stay tuned!  I’ll put up a “daff cam” picture on each of my posts through Daffodil Days and try to make a prediction or two to help you plan.

Are you planning a trip out for rough-weather hort therapy?  Will you come here?

When Fred (Blithewold’s dir. of hort.) suggested that Gail and I start making our own potting soil, we were totally game.  We had already started looking into alternatives to our peat based mixes and were interested in trying out this coir stuff that everyone is talking about.  Coir (rhymes with foyer) is a coconut industry byproduct – when coconuts are harvested for the meat and milk the fiber (the coir) from the shells is used for all sorts of other things – like rope, doormats, the pots we’re now using instead of peat pots – and the coir dust makes an excellent soil amendment.  It’s on the slightly acidic side of pH neutral, has high water retention and slow release; it’s re-wettable, and biodegradable.  It’s also an easily and sustainably renewable resource.  Peat moss, on the other hand, grows back at a rate of 1-2 millimeters per year and must be very carefully harvested in order to remain at all sustainable.  And the amazing thing about peat bogs is that peat absorbs carbon dioxide and as it’s held in the earth, the bogs act as global coolers.  When the bogs are disturbed however, the gas is released which, as you know, contributes to global warming.  (Very uncool.)

Personally, I’d rather leave the bogs alone but peat moss has forever been every gardener’s go-to soil amendment.  In terms of feeding the soil though, there are much better alternatives – like shredded leaves, mushroom compost, and everyday garden compost – all three of which add nutrients while improving the texture, aeration, and water retention.  Coir is more like peat – it’s a nutrient sponge that retains and releases whatever is added to it. Its water holding capacity and re-wet-ability make it an ideal potting mix ingredient.  (Potting mixes need to be Goldilocks-perfect:  Not too heavy, too light, too wet, or too dry – but juuuussst right.)

The great people at The Good Earth in Hope, RI offered to share a pallet of Fibre Dust, LLC Coco-Coir bales with us – none of us needed all 990 odd pounds – so Gail and I packed my little car with a third of the pallet which should keep us going for a while.  One 12″x12″x5″ tightly packed bale puffs up to 2.2 – 2.5 cubic feet or about two thirds of a 32 gallon container.

For potting up transplants right now, we’ll add it to the potting mixes we already have on hand.  As we start work on potting up the container bed, we’ll mix it with screened compost.  And next year when we sow seeds we might consider trying soil blocks like the ones the Holschers make at The Good Earth – we could reduce our reliance on peat packs and then be very nearly, almost entirely peat free.

Have you used any coir based potting mixes?  (Do you make your own?) What do you think of it?