East Coast Garden Tour (Part III)- Marocco Garden, Connecticut
“(Cht) Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is garden gnome, is anybody out there? (blip)”
“(Cht) 10-4, I hear you Garden Gnome, this is Old Beech Tree, are you lost in the Marocco Garden again? (blip)”
“(Cht) I don’t know what happened,Old Beech Tree, I was walking along the forest edge, past the pool, the bocce court, then up and around the hill. My little legs got tired. Now I’m at what seems like a reflection pond with jets and basalt columns surrounded by meadow flowers. There’s a giant metal sphere. I’m afraid I’ll never get back to my home beside the pizza oven! (blip)”
“(Cht)Have no fear, Gnome, just take a walk down through the woodland garden. You’ll pass a secluded hot tub, an enormous slab of stone in meadows. You’ll pass an expanse of doublefile viburnum and iris. Your pizza oven is just beyond the stone walls and spilling pools. Over. (blip)”
“(Cht)Thanks, Beech! (blip)”
“(Cht) My pleasure, Gnome. Over and out. (blip)”
A radio would have been useful here. This garden is immense. Without my trusty wayfinders (and garden designers) Sarah Singleton and Richard Hartlage, my super excellent navigation skills would have led me far into the woods. I would be found weeks later talking to a gnome… Only it wouldn’t be a gnome… it would be a mushroom…and I would have berries mushed in my hair….
Anyway, my delightful east coast garden adventure ended here, at the Marocco Garden, in Redding CT.
The Marocco Garden is a sweeping, naturalistic garden with a home grown feel. There is a lot going on here, grade changes, outdoor kitchens, monumentally sized sculptures, pools, fountains, meadows, GASP. However, it’s a big garden and the spaces meld together. Meadows undulate up to a hilltop pool.
Groomed lawn paths wind through intimate spaces and larger expanses each housing a simple, yet bold sculpture.
Everything is held together by a meadow matrix that is joyfully free flowing. While the plants here are native and non-native, they feel like they belong. The wood in the arbors and trellises is thick, rough, and gives me the impression that Marocco’s grandfather must have milled it himself from the woods nearby. Even the stone that supports the impressive terraces was hewn from the earth below.
Thoughtful details are everywhere
Even in this size of a garden, where plant massing is so important to get a bold effect, individual plants’ shapes, colors, and textures can be appreciated.
East Coast Garden Tour (part I)- Mountsier Garden, New Jersey
Holy Garden Magic, Plantman!!! This month I crammed myself and four hours worth of garden magazines onto an airplane to visit three gardens that I’ve been hearing about for years. The first is the magical Mountsier Garden in New Jersey. Set in a New Jersey neighborhood, this garden began years ago on a couple of lots and slowly grew like a giant, garden monster, gobbling up its mediocre surroundings and spitting out pure lovliness.
The shape of the gardens are not all at once clear. The joy of this garden comes in exploring a thoughtfully designed corner and coming upon a hint of even more garden. Curiosity and a slow pace is rewarded at every turn with a beautiful plant, unexpected landform, or well placed sculpture. The way views are concealed then exposed then concealed is masterful, especially when considering the fact that designer Richard Hartlage has been designing for this garden for nearly 20 years. The flow is wonderful.
The sculpture, is not so much set in a garden gallery, but tucked into it. Everything fits and feels good in its place. Sculpture, and this garden, says owner Silas Mountsier, gives him great joy. It brings me joy too.
I’m having trouble describing this garden well enough. As I upload these photos I realize they don’t quite say enough. I’ve seen this garden numerous times in photos but did not expect what I found. Play, I think, is a good word for it. Like hide and seek. The kind of play that makes you giggle, even if you are alone.
These mounds wrap around and create a circular space. The leaves of three different hakonechloa species bop around in the breeze.
I sat in the this space and read for awhile. A butterfly kept me company for about ten minutes. Of course this garden would come with friendly butterflies. It probably has a loving family of unicorns also.
Here are some of my favorite plants in this garden. I thought the Spiraea was ‘Ogon’ bought now I am doubtful. Maybe YOU know? Its chartreuse leaves seem to create its own light. The pond cypress is a deciduous conifer one of the most underused and fantastic plants out there. In the spring its needles are translucent and glow with sunshine. In the fall they are golden/ orange.
And more lovely plants
Not sure what this is. Maybe someone can school me.
Next on the East coast garden tour is a Connecticut garden.
Native Plant Rant
Stop native plant abuse!
Yesterday, I got a new landscape design project and while I welcome all projects in this ho-hum economic climate, this one invited a groan. Well, first a weird little laugh, then two hands smearing each cheek downward, and then a groan.
The project is a gas station, one of the most exposed, rough, and polluted places to ask a plant to live in. It’s like leaving your kid in the desert, giving her a kiss on the cheek, telling her it’ll be okay, and then driving away. Except a plant doesn’t have feet. So it’s a little different…
It’s not that the project is difficult, it’s just that it reminded me of one of my greatest peeves brought on by the good intentions of the sustainability/ green movement. The native plant craze…. The idea that since we are in Seattle, any plant that touches its sweet soil should have a history in Seattle that predates yo momma’s momma’s momma’s momma’s grand-momma. Or since the last glaciation.
The problem is, the requirement for this gas station is to be all native plantings…
My beef: Native plants are native because they like the native natural growing conditions of the forest, stream bank, rocky outcrop, prairies, whatever. Places with years of squishy plant debris build-up and soil that is only compacted occasionally by a wandering elk. Soil that because of its NON-compacted state, can actually suck in the water that is dropped on it.
This gas station, however, will have fill dirt harvested from who knows where and an onslaught of pollutants from spilled oil to Big Lou’s chaw to the occasional beer. There will be boots, sneakers, eco-friendly hemp shoes, and heels, tromping through my dear plants home, squishing the soil and damaging the roots. There will be the blistering sun, reflected heat from pavement and cars, run off water piped underground, the inevitable failing irrigation system, AND I’m pretty sure plants react badly to club music.
Fortunately, there are plants that would be better suited for these terrible conditions. Unfortunately, they are not likely to be native.
The result? native plants die all together or end up looking like abused, burned fraggle muppets. The question I’m left with is, commit native plant abuse? Or, sneak in some hybrids and cultivars with names that are close to native species in hope of duping the unsuspecting reviewers?
Here’s a list of natives that, in my experience, just really aren’t a good idea for exposed urban environments.
Foot traffic + harsh sun+ compacted soils= unhappy swordfern
Red-twigged dogwood actually doesn’t do bad in urban environments and is has beautiful twigs but often gets too large. So what ends up happening is people hack to try to make a hedge out of it.
Oregon grape is what I was thinking of when I said fraggle muppet. This plant does terribly with pollution and its odd shape lends itself to brutal and strange pruning practices.
Salal looks beautiful and lush in part shade. It can handle sun and dry conditions just like your hair can handle going platinum. It works… kinda… for awhile.
Vine Maples are another of those plants that do best in part sun. Exposure dries them out and pollution makes the leaves look sickly. If babied for a few years, I’ve seen it look nice in rough locations.
Plants I have seen look all right are Kinnickinnick, Strawberry, Tufted Hairgrass (when given enough water), and I’ve been wanting to try Wooly Sunflower (Eriophyllum lanatum). I haven’t seen it done but think it could work as a perennial for tough environments that call for natives.
Lilacs are to me what an ice cream truck is to a five year old. I wait for them, and when they are around, I freak out. I want them… all of them. I have mapped out in my mind where all the lilac bushes live in my neighborhood and in the days leading up to the height of their bloom, I stalk them. Almost daily, I stalk and I sniff. I call my parents to see if their lilacs are blooming and compare lilac schedules. I daydream about why a lilac in Sequim is 3 weeks behind a lilac in Tacoma.
I may or may not have been guilty of swiping a bloom-laden twig from a neighbor’s yard. During this greedy act, I may or may not have even scanned the area first for onlookers. I may or may not have tucked the twig in a jacket that I specifically wore for my lilac-pilfering, criminal purpose and scampered home like a bug.
Recently, on a trip down to Oregon, I stopped by the Hulda Klager Lilac Species Garden in Woodland. OH YAY! I cannot explain the amazing-ness. I was introduced to not one, but many new (to me) varieties AND species I had not known existed. Below is some show and tell.
This Garden is on Hulda’s old farm, now run by the lilac society. Hulda moved from Germany in the late 1800s and was responsible for 14 new varieties of lilacs.
I love the bicolor look of darker buds against lighter flowers.
Crystle is a nice size and shape for larger landscapes. So many lilacs can look scraggley.
Big, fat, floppy blooms! Dark purple flowers.
LOOK! Pink buds and creamy flowers. So delicious.
This one is a dwarf variety that grows to about 8 feet instead of the typical 10-20′. Tinkerbelle is another dwarf variety that I didn’t take pics of.It is even smaller.
There were a few varieties with president somewhere in the name. Another was ‘President Lincoln’ which had past its prime. The ‘Presidents’ tended to be almost blue.
This is the only lilac that I know of that is widely available. Also the only one at Hulda’s that had this type of coloring.
This one is called little leaf lilac and if from Korea. While it can get to 20′, this one was kept at around 4 and looked great.
I love this one too!
This is my second fave.
There were more. Many more. I can’t believe I didn’t take a picture of ‘Congo’ which has deep purple huge blooms.
I tried to find some useful tidbits on care for lilacs. Since they are suckering shrubs, they can look wily. One book suggests not to prune them at all for 4 years, after which older canes can be removed. Lilacs like full sun and do not like soggy soil. The varieties that seem to be most widely available are ‘Sensation’, the Syringa pubescens species, ‘Congo’ and ‘Belle de Nancy’, BUT the Hulda Klager garden propogates all of the varieties shown.
Cutting Garden: Part 1 Late Winter/ Early Spring Bouquet
The Groundhog was wrong. Spring seems to be early. And struggling to the surface of my brain are all the past year’s dreams of garden completeness. A perfect place where each plant is planned according to garden micro-climate and pollinators are aplenty. A place that is not only lovely, but supplies me with endless inspiration and material for flower projects.
It didn’t happen, just like it didn’t happen the previous 3 years since we’ve moved into our house on a hill. Blackberries DID happen. BUT, this year is different and I am ready to attack. Beginning next week…. This week, I plan.
I’m trying to work into my plant palette landscape shrubs, perennials, and annuals that will give me a range of textures and forms to work with for floral design while still keeping a coherent landscape. I’d also like to have something to use during all times of the year. So, part one begins with plants that look good now or will look good in a couple of weeks. Most of them smell good too. There’s something about wet dirt and spring flowers smell that is so good. We’ll all have to imagine the potential arrangements until these sweet smelling plants beef themselves up.
First are hellebores. They are always so unexpected and lovely. I love Helleborus foeditus called Stinking Hellebore (I have not found the stinking part to be true). They are tough too.
Then Creeping rosemary. Rosmarinus officinalis ‘Prostratus’. I have limited hot spots in my yard. But where there are, they are also on top of rockeries. This will look good dripping down and give me those deliciously pungent, beautifully textured leaves. (side note, I made rosemary orange jelly last year and it rocked my world, you should try it)
And there must be Daphne. If you don’t know about this plant, inform yourself. It’s not that it’s all that eye-catching but the smell is unbelievable. It will seriously stop you in your tracks and turn you into that weirdo walking down the street looking feverishly through the bushes. (I am that weirdo, I could use a fellow weirdo) Also, it’s toxic. To what degree? I dunno. I just don’t eat it. Me or Fido. I promise to find out before I make you an arrangement of the stuff. Botanical name is Daphne odora.
I also like the foliage of the licorice plant. So sweet and soft. It’s not a hardy plant in the Northwest but I’ve been told that sometimes it will more than one season. Helichrysum petiolare. The picture is a variegated variety. (by the way, this one and the creeping rosemary are also great in pots… hmmmm. shall we do a container gardening post in the future? I think so.)
And Pieris. Now I know this plant is everywhere but something about this time of year makes me seek it out. I rearrange my walking route just to encounter a sniff of this stuff. One smell of it and I can remember my elementary school. The grounds were full of white pieris. Good memories, not like Juniper which brings back memories of middle school. Juniper= bad memories. (Juniper and I are currently reconciling.)
And I’d really like some willow. It’s so versatile.
And finally this Flowering Quince. My family has a red one on our Lavender Farm. Most of the summer when people are buzzing about, it is generally a big scrambley, crazy bush filled with birds. Right now, it is jaw-dropping gorgeous. I actually just planted one. Color is unknown, but this light pink one would look lovely in our imaginary arrangement. Botanical name is Chaenomeles speciosa.
There, one gorgeous winter/ early spring arrangement. This is going to get harder as it gets warmer.