I have looked at these gardens so much that even though they change everyday I can hardly see them anymore. It’s not that I’m tired of the garden – far from it. I still want to witness every little change. But it’s August and my eyes have grown accustomed. – It’s just like not being able to smell the roses for more than a few minutes whenever I work in the Rose Garden.

One remedy is to see the garden through someone else’s eyes – or camera lens. I love checking out the views that captivate our visitors just in case they’ll be new to me too. Michelle from Fine Gardening magazine posted some pictures on her blog, Garden Photo of the Day, that she took during a visit to Blithewold. For me, seeing her photographs (click here and here) in a different context than I’m used to, is like getting a glimpse of a whole other garden than the one I work in every day.

Another way to refresh the senses is to leave your own garden and look at another. Gail and Lilah and I took a trip to one of our volunteer’s garden in Little Compton where the views are entrancing and the plant combinations exciting. I hope that our visit – seeing their garden through our eyes – was as helpful to Gioia as the change of scene was for us. Gioia’s – and her husband Jim’s – garden will be open on September 11 as part of the Garden Conservancy’s Open Days Program. Go on tour, if you possibly can.

Gail just got back from her two-week vacation and her enthusiasm about how the garden grew while she was gone has been energizing for me. I can see now that it changed a lot. Lilah and I did tinker with it a bit though: The Allium christoffii are blooming all over again! (Who says a gardener can’t extend the season with a little spray paint?)

Now it’s my turn to go away for a couple of weeks. I’m ready to go – the last items on my to-do-before-vacation list were to fertilize the roses one last time before their final hurrah, and write this post. Check – and check.

I wonder how different the garden will look to me, what I’ll miss seeing come into bloom and what surprises might greet me when I return… Stay tuned. (I’ll be back to fill you in the week of August 23rd.)

Can you still really see your garden or do you find a change of scene refreshing too?

I’m definitely on a fragrance kick lately. I don’t know if it’s that my nose is compensating for my other senses – I’m near sighted and I don’t always hear too well… Or if it’s just that it’s June and June smells really beautiful.

I have been walking through curtains of scent all over the property and have continued sticking my nose into every bloom to find the sources. Some are obvious – like the sweet peas. They happen to be one of the only flowers I’m willing to cut from my own garden to bring inside just so I can draw in every last whiff of them.

Lilah I think would be happy to take home a bouquet of her declared favorite rose, ‘Sweet Juliet’. Its scent is heavy enough to knock me right over but I can certainly smell why it might be anyone’s favorite.

I keep asking Gail if she can smell the linden trees  – in full bloom here now – and am amazed that she doesn’t much notice it. Even though there are lindens all over the property, Lilah and I took a little break the other day in the Linden Grove (Tilia cordata – Littleleaf lindens) just to twirl in the honey scent, and majesty of those trees.

Aside from the scent of them, which admittedly some people hardly notice, the linden flowers are pretty unimpressive. On the other hand, catalpa (Catalpa speciosa) flowers are amazing to look at but, according to my snifter, are kind of empty, fragrance-wise.

And for a flower that is both amazing to look at and has an intoxicating fragrance, nothing beats a night blooming cereus. It finally dawned on me that if I (and you through me) were ever going to experience an open flower, I’d have to bring a plant home. I took the pictures at about 10:30pm but I did notice that at least one of the (3) buds had started to open at dusk. – Does anyone know, is that when they typically open? I thought it was only after dark… In any case, it wasn’t very fragrant then or early the next morning. But in the dark, it was definitely a  “wow!” If only you could smell it too…

Can you smell the lindens? What’s fragrant in your garden? For a look, if not a sniff, at what’s blooming all over the world right now, check out Garden Bloggers Bloom Day over at May Dreams Gardens.

Since my last post was about sweet smelling blooms, it seems only fitting that  that this one should be about a plant at the other end of the fragrance spectrum. Don’t get me wrong – I love the smell of onions especially when they’re being sauteed in butter. But it’s safe to say that ornamental onions are not grown for their fragrance. –Unless of course you take into consideration their value as a companion plant: the odor of them is said to repel aphids and other garden pests.

The number one reason we grow ornamental onions is because they’re outstanding. Literally and figuratively. There’s nothing like a star-burst on a stick to change the way you see the whole garden.

We’re really pleased with the ones we chose for the Rose Garden this year. Allium schubertii (above) actually seems to alter the atmosphere within and around its enormous firecracker spray. I can’t really explain, but everything near it (through it) seems slightly color shifted. Schubertii stands only a foot or so off the ground but has a large presence and we’ll save the seed heads for Christmas decorations. The stately Allium ‘Ambassador’ stands at least 4′ tall and they have carried large deep purple globes for a good 4 weeks. We’re also growing chives as companion plants in the Rose Garden and so far we haven’t had any major aphid infestations there…

In the North Garden we chose a combination of alliums pictured in the Scheepers’ catalog. Allium multibulbosum and A. atropurpureum really are gorgeous together. The white one (A. multibulbosum) opened first and is beginning now to fade to green. The dark wine color of A. atropurpureum is a perfect contrast – perfect with the rest of the colors in that garden too. Nectaroscordum siculum ssp. bulgaricum, formerly known as Allium bulgaricum, is one of my very faves even if it’s not officially an allium anymore. It’s on the subtle side – perhaps that’s why its name was changed.

In the Display Garden, the Allium ‘Globemaster’ and ‘Purple Sensation’ have all faded but the seed heads are still quietly spectacular. A few years ago we planted a row of them within our peony row – which turned out to be a great idea because the peonies hide the alliums’ one drawback, scrunky foliage. We planted Allium albopilosum (a.k.a A. christophii or Star of Persia) to peep over the edge of our stepped-down center bed. It’s another firecracker and shimmers a metallic lavender.

And finally here’s an ornamental onion only a mother could love. Allium ‘Hair’ is as disheveled as I generally feel. But to my (mother-ish) eye, there are no bad ‘Hair’ days!

Do you grow ornamental onions? Which are your favorites?