Sometimes I still feel like a backseat whiner. I should know better than to complain out loud because as a kid, whenever I asked, “are we there yet?”, my Mom would only reply cryptically, “10 and a little!” But I’m impatient to be done with the planting (10 and a little!); moved out of the greenhouse (10 and a little! – but at least I got the shading on today); and I’m already exhausted and my back aches. (Do you want some cheese with your whine?) But it’s June and even if we haven’t planted everything yet (this week!) and gotten all of the leaf mulch or buckwheat hulls on the beds and gardens before the heat hits (tomorrow), the gardens at least have arrived at their next destination. Just as the rhodies began to fade, the peonies popped. The delphinium are skyscrapers and the roses are so close to a peaking burst of bloom that I’ve been visiting that garden just to ask, “Aren’t we there yet?”

I know I have made the claim in recent years that the roses have never looked better. You already know that over the last several years we have replaced a few weaklings, inter-planted the Rose Garden with perennials, shrubs and annuals, finally put all of the roses on a fertilizing schedule (April, June – last week, in fact – and August), raked up spotty leaves twice weekly and and spent untold hours watering them by hand. This year we’ve been able to give the roses even more of what they’ve been desperately crying out for. Now I really mean it (- funny thing is, I meant it before too) but the roses have really, truly never – ever looked better. Their foliage is untouched, deeply green, leathery and glossy, and there are bazillions of buds.

Last fall we amended the soil with compost, which has almost instantly (if winter counts as an instant) improved our compaction problem. But even better, an irrigation system, generously and anonymously donated, and installed this spring has finally slaked their thirst. – They need at least an inch of “rain” a week for optimum health. We will continue to refuse to use chemistry to combat any pests or disease but honestly, I don’t think we’d even need to. Enriched soil with good drainage and regular watering to push the soil’s nutrients to the roots will keep the roses stress-free and lovely and as close to perfection as we think any gardener or garden visitor could possibly want. (And thank goodness, we won’t ever have to whine about spending hours watering the Rose Garden again!)

Are your roses in peak bloom yet? (Are you able to refrain from whining?)

I think it might be safe to say that we’ve been even busier than bees in the last couple of days. And by “we” I mostly mean the garden volunteers. Gail, Tara and I placed … must be hundreds! of annuals and tender perennials in the Cutting Garden; a few more in the big Display Garden bed; over a hundred in the North Garden; a baker’s dozen in the Rock Garden; and Dick and Cathy placed dozens of tomatoes in the vegetable bed. And almost faster than we (by “we” I mean Gail, Tara and I) could say “please”, they were planted, fertilized (we use Espoma Bulb-Tone, which is a slow-release granular organic fertilizer with a ratio heavy on phosphorus) and watered.

Even though we (Gail, Tara and I) have been working hard to stay one step ahead of the volunteers – I couldn’t even catch a moment to take pictures as they took the tulips out last week – I’ve found that it’s actually absolutely imperative to pause now and again to take in the changes. The other day I almost couldn’t help but stop for Virginia waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) blooming in the Bosquet: evidently they have never bloomed so abundantly because neither Gail nor I had felt the need to learn its name before. I also don’t ever remember detouring to take in the stunning contrast of flower-like samaras are on the full-moon Japanese maple (Acer shirasawanum ‘Aureum’). And even if we hadn’t had to get to the Rose Garden to place more plants (another 100 plus for tomorrow’s crew) I would have made a special trip to see the Chestnut rose (Rosa roxburghii) and my all-time favorite weird peony (Paeonia ‘Alley Cat’) in full bloom. (Click on pictures for a better view.)

Are you in a planting frenzy in your garden too? And taking time out too, to take it all in?

Usually when people enter the Rose Garden they take a deep breath in through the nose and heave a big blissed-out sigh of appreciation …

Not today. The roses are still blooming; they are still sweetly fragrant, but the smell of the compost we started to spread yesterday is a little overwhelming. We decided to use Bristol’s own compost made from yard waste and … biosolids. If you’re not already familiar with the term, biosolids are the byproduct of sewage treatment. It’s nutrient rich and once it’s been thoroughly composted, pathogen-free. And pretty stinky.

Earlier this week, Gail and I visited the Bristol compost facility – which helped to facilitate deciding between spending the moon on our favorite organic compost that has to be trucked from all the way across the state, and getting Blithewold’s truck filled with the free compost made less than 2 miles away from here. We have both used the rich, dark biosolids compost in our own gardens (because it’s free!) but had never gotten the full scoop, so to speak.

It’s Class A, top grade compost made in a 20 year old facility (soon to be solar powered!) and is free to home gardeners who are able to pick it up themselves and sold to landscapers and garden centers all over the state. Sludge is trucked in from the sewage treatment plant, mixed with finely chopped yard waste, cooked for a minimum of 28 days and aerated by the most enormous rototiller on the planet (says me.) It’s tested for pathogens (fecal coliform) periodically throughout the cycle and the content is fully analyzed for heavy metal levels. Each batch must be within allowable limits – and 100% pathogen-free – before being released from the process. The people who make it are very proud of their product and seem to have good reason to be – plants love it.

We have been talking about amending the soil in the Rose Garden for years now. The soil is probably better than average, evident by the size and health of some of the plants in the garden, but has become more and more compacted and cement-like as we’ve all trampled it over the years. Some roses have struggled to thrive and it’s getting harder and harder, especially in a dry season, to water the garden well. I love thinking that this fall’s rain will really soak in right now rather than run off. And the unpleasant odor, which should dissipate within a few days, to me is a harbinger of next season’s sublime fragrance of a garden full of healthy plants. (Healthy soil = healthy plants.) We’ve taken so much – pleasure, plants and soil – from that garden over the years, it feels really good to finally give something back.

Have you given anything back to your garden yet? (Fall is the perfect time…) Have you ever tried compost made with biosolids? What do you think of it?

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.