Yesterday’s sky was dusted with those high flying cirrus mare’s tails and mackerel’s scales that precede a storm and the news is full of a tropical storm named for one of our groundsmen. As I write this, we still don’t know yet if we’ll be smacked around much by Danny but we’ve done what we can to prepare the gardens just-in-(worst)-case.

My great-grandfather, according to family legend, used to sit out in the rain with his plants and even risked his life (at least) once for the sake of his gardens. I don’t think I’m inclined to follow in those particular footsteps… We have already staked most of the dahlias and the Cutting Garden floppers but made the rounds again today to make sure everyone is snug as a bug, tied up tight (not too tight). And since sometimes big blooms, especially on dahlias or brittle glads, act like sails in the wind we went ahead and removed some of the hugest to save the plant and any neighbors. Apologies to today’s North Garden visitors…

Is there anything else you do to get ready for a storm?

Even if we don’t get a lot of wind it looks like a pretty big rain is coming. June and most of July were super wet, but we’re thirsty again already. I have my fingers crossed that the 2-3″ forecast are soakers rather than torrential washouts. Whatever is on it’s way we’ll have our work cut out for us on Monday – and no Lilah (Weed Woman) to help us anymore. Our intern extraordinaire is headed back to Bard just in time to dodge storm clean-up and/or watering detail and we’re going to miss her madly!

I thought the tide was high during the Nor’easter of spring 2007 – and it was – but this morning’s moon tide storm sure did flood Blithewold.  I took these pictures about an hour after high tide so we’ll all just have to imagine what it must have looked like earlier.  If only I had been a little speedier leaving the comfort of home this morning…  If you’re at all familiar with Blithewold, then you are accustomed to the Narragansett Bay quietly lapping up a certain part of the view.  When the Bay shifts its shores, it’s easy, especially looking through snapshots, to become a bit disoriented.  So I’ve included a couple/three pictures of what “normal” looks like down near the water.  Click on pictures for a larger look and hover over for captions.

Unlike my great-grandfather who would worry and go out to check on his gardens during any kind of weather, I’m always a little thrilled to forgetfulness by a good storm.  But I can sober right up when faced with the aftermath.  The grounds, aside from the flooding, didn’t seem to fare too badly – no major limbs or trees down that I saw.  But we’ll likely have our work cut out for us in the Rock Garden – maybe especially in this spot. (In the top right photo, this section of the garden is beyond the winterberry…)

Over the years we’ve learned the hard way what-not-to-plant there and we’ll have to wait and see if we’ll be adding to that list.

How did your garden survive the last storm?  Did you worry during or did you enjoy the ride?

The gardens were a little soggy yesterday.  I could hear the ground actually percolating in places where it wasn’t ankle deep in mud.  There’s nothing like a weekend of non-stop rain (the rain gauge overflowed at 5″…) to make little fungi-brellas pop up everywhere and some plants looked like someone extra large had sat upon them. It’s a good thing Kyle didn’t come any closer!

Dan pointed out these tiny parasols (right) on a Norway maple (Acer platanoides) – a tree I walk by daily without giving it so much as a hug.  Some of the roses and zinnias looked like used tissue and a couple of the asters flopped face down in the soup but overall the grounds and gardens fared pretty well, considering.  And Gus-Gus made a rare appearance after the rain – I must say he’s looking quite fat and happy.  I think our fish population might be dwindling…

I did as much tidying of the Rose and North gardens as I could by teetering in from the very edge. As you know, it is never a good idea to tromp around in freshly rain soaked beds:  Not only does it cause soil compaction but you’re bound to get drenched and cranky too.

I never even came close to cranky yesterday because right as I was finishing up for the morning, I was joined in the North Garden by none other than Rhode Island’s Best Layanee from Ledge and Gardens and the famous fabulous Gail from Clay and Limestone who blogs all the way from Tennessee.  Inspired by the Garden Blogger’s Spring Fling in Texas, we had an impromptu mini-fling — a fall fling-let, if you will, at Blithewold.  Wish you were here too!  We meandered to the Display Garden, stopped for an “irreverent” discussion at the Cutting Garden asclepias and several missed photo ops of the hummingbirds that are still twittering in the bamboo and swooping on the garden.  Everything under the sun and Salvia uliginosa was enthused over and even the possibility of a full fling in the future was mentioned – although Layanee and I couldn’t agree on an ideal time.  Blithewold may be super pretty in the fall but Layanee seems to think her own garden is past its peak.  I’ve seen pictures and beg to differ!  (But I do have to admit that I certainly wouldn’t want anyone to see my own garden right now – I’m more inclined to create a traffic diversion and some sort of commotion just to distract my neighbors.)

Gail and Layanee finally stood still just long enough (as we grazed on ground cherries) for a quick portrait before moving on to the watery Water and Rock Gardens.   I was very sorry to see them go.  As everybody knows, it’s the best kind of inspiration to talk with others who share your passion.  No wonder people join garden clubs, host flings and pot lucks and write blogs!

Today the Deadheads worked on propping up and tidying the Display Garden even though in a short couple of weeks we’ll start to tear it apart.  The mansion closes right after Columbus Day and we’ll be swinging into high holiday gear all too soon.  Gail (from Clay and Limestone) asked what these gardens look like in the winter:  Stay tuned!

Nor’easters tend to stick around like a tedious dinner guest and this one is definitely over staying its welcome. This week is probably a wash and the ground is still pretty squishy (with rain in the forecast through Thursday, the property might be wellie worthy for days.) Good news is, the rock and water gardens are not completely under water anymore — look at the difference! And just to tantalize you, see how sweet the rock garden is right now! Unfortunately though, the rock and water gardens are off limits to visitors until it dries out a bit (I snuck in – shhhh! don’t tell the guys! – but wait, I work here…). Fred and Dan have done a beautiful job cleaning up the Bosquet – not a twig out of place even after last night’s gale and the Daffodils are so close!! Saturday and Sunday are supposed to be balmy — in the low 60′s – can you stand it?! With the sun out and the daffs peeking (but not quite peaking) it’s bound to be just right for a walk around Blithewold. Plus you might get to see some fine fashion on fellow visitors – rubber shoes and shorts are all-the-rage!

Meanwhile in the greenhouse, Gail and I are fed up to our cotyledons with transplanting. Remember, it’s a good idea when transplanting lanky stretchy things like tomatoes to sink them up to their necks – good roots will grow from the stem.

Water, water everywhere! High tide this morning was HIGH. When I drove in this morning I wondered “what the heck is that is out in the bay?…” It was the GARDEN.

There’s nothing like a big storm to infuse a little drama in the daily slog. I would say that last night’s storm wasn’t pretty but, in a way, it was. Destructive, certainly! — but also beautiful in an awesome sort of way. (People with tree smashed cars and houses and flooded basements may disagree with me…) Blithewold lost some sizable tree pieces but the damage isn’t too terrible considering the size and location of the property and the sheer number of special specimens. (knock-on-wood; the storm’s not done yet!)

The Daffodils, thank goodness, look fine. If more of them were open, they might all look like this:

Most of the Daffs in the Bosquet are still looking snug in the bud though and quite perky despite all the wind, rain and sticks. By the time the weather improves, we should be cleaned up again and with any luck (cross your fingers) the Daffodils will be ready too!