Lessons of the Labyrinth

It's the last week of spring, but I am still wondering where winter went. We've been crazy busy on a long list of duties and obligations, but I am hard pressed to tell you what was accomplished without my calendar. I've lived one event reminder to the next, and I have narrowed my scope to just the next thing or two in order to keep from feeling overwhelmed. Finally here I am at the end of the season, and I have returned to Saultopaul, almost desperate to breathe, to walk, to think, to get some perspective back.

Without really thinking about it, I go to the labyrinth to walk. This is what we do. The first steps head me straight toward the goal: the center stones. But the path abruptly turns me to woods. As I walk around the circular paths, first in towards the center, then back out to the perimeter, the "goal" is always in sight. Yet the more progress I make, the farther out the path from the center leads, and the slower my pace.

 "Oh yeah......".

So now progress begins to be breathing, stepping, accounting for each rock along the edge of the path. Step by step, thought by thought, I am meant to process the vast woods before me, and at the same time, each stone and pebble so carefully laid out. Before long, I can feel the tug of the forest and each of the trees; the "wild" natural beauty so exposed by this cultivated, manicured showcase. I reach the center stones, only to turn and continue that luxurious swing of near and far on the path that will eventually let me go.

This is the release I come to find at Saultopaul. I want to think a million thoughts that don't make a story. I want to hold images of opposites in my head without a mirror. I want to read to remember how to put myself in someone else's head and completely forget what's in my own.

To that end, I brought Michael Pollan's book Second Nature with me to finish, since it didn't seem very interesting at a pace of 2 pages per week. This book is absolutely loaded with vision, logic, common sense, and the elegance of verbal mathematics. It's subtitle is A Gardener's Education, but as so defined, it is a thoughtful inquiry into "(a gardener's) proper place in nature";.... "peculiar attitudes towards the land that an American is born with; ....about "troubled borders between nature and culture".... and finally, "a single argument that the idea of a garden- as a place....where nature and culture can be wedded in a way that can be beneficial to both..."

 I haven't wrapped my head around the full implications yet, but that's part of the fun. Here are few turns he makes in his path thru this labyrinth of his gardening experiences:

In the chapter on "Compost and it's Moral Imperatives", he sets out the history of horticulture in America, and marks the turns of that path's dangerous edges into the almost religious fervor of the "natural" as opposed to "the cultivated". That curve is one headed straight for the center "goal" of redeeming the soil as a virtue, but abruptly turns to the idea that nature is a "cure" for culture, and aesthetics and man made design must be inherently "bad".

The chapter on "Green Thumb" mulls over the theoretically gifted gardener, vs the very real one who uses practical experience and pays attention to "what the plants want". This is a contradictory look- steps towards the core motives and away- at the person who tries to bend the will of nature to improve his garden by trying to be more and more a part of the natural process....."Nature creates without an end in view; fitness is but an after thought. The gardener in his own little world, like the artist in his, performs both functions, hatching the trials and then culling the errors . But as much as he seems like a god in his garden, practicing his own brand of natural selection, the green thumb entertains no illusion of omniscience or omnipotence." My artist/ gardener friend Susan has mastered her own "natural selection" in the most detailed and intricate patterns in her moss garden. Witness the exquisite design:

There are perspectives and arguments on the true definition of plant nativity, the vestiges of a belief in spirits of trees, genetic diversity as a boon and a bane, plant snobbery, marketing to plant snobs, the environmental ethic of "wilderness" and a new ethic that we could develop when the old one is not helpful. From my spring of restricted, linear thinking, from a job exploding with passionate experience, from a year bombarded by a world full of polarizing political correctness, it has been exhilarating to follow him thru the maze to the edge and back.

In the end, "form (as a definition for garden) is a kind of rhythm in which expectations are aroused and then somehow paid off or fulfilled.....Once begun the garden path must take us somewhere, and then it had better bring us home again." It's been just a short couple of days here at Saultopaul. I've embraced the blurred vision and the focused, the manicured and the wild. I've been to the center and back. I'm ready to go home again.

Pocket Full of Miracles

 I spent a gracious long weekend walking and talking and breathing the air of the NW Georgia mountains. It had been over a year since I had been to Saultopaul to be blinded by the beauty of those ancients and to return home a different person.

Walking is the beginning of the process.

 "Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.  Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.  The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."  ~John Muir  

It works slowly, easily, step by step.

Close conversation, thoughts and feelings, science and nature woven with words into art......  With each step, I am losing sight of the worries and details of my working world. I watch instead the leaves underfoot, the diagonal shadows of vertical tree trunks, the rich green waterfalls of moss tumbling over silent stones.

After a day, I can't wait to get back out into the woods. Even though the calendar said it was still midwinter, I started thinking about the sleeping blanket of wildflowers at the Shirley Miller Wildflower Trail in a nearby "pocket" of Pigeon Mountain. http://journal.uswildflowers.com/?page_id=901.Would they be early because of the rains and relative warmth of this winter?

Susan joined me in enthusiastic curiosity, so we took a short ride over to The Pocket to see for ourselves. It wasn't the explosion of colors I have seen in the past, but rather, a quiet bubbling up of  the most subtle, sweet, delicate early ephemerals- Dentaria, Sanguinaria, Hepatica, Lindera, and the luscious rich foliage emerging for Erythronium, Trillium, Mertensia, Polystichum, Geranium. It was the moment before the moment. Anticipation, wonder, the eternal, inevitable push towards the light......nestled at the foot of an ancient mountain, bathed by the cool clear solvent in the chemistry of life.

I came home again, changed again.
 And in quietly processing the weekend blessing,

I turned again to Mary Oliver, and found this poem from her latest book- The Swan.
It says it all.

The Poet Dreams of the Mountain


Sometimes I grow weary of the days, with all the fits and starts.
I want to climb some old gray mountain, slowly, taking
the rest of my lifetime to do it, resting often, sleeping
under the pines, or above them, on the unclothed rocks.
I want to see how many stars are still in the sky
that we have smothered for years now, a century at least.
I want to look back at everything, forgiving it all,
and peaceful, knowing the last thing there is to know.
All that urgency! Not what the earth is about!
How silent the trees, their poetry being of themselves only.
I want to take slow steps, and think appropriate thoughts.
In ten thousand years, maybe, a piece of the mountain will fall.

Tale of Two Quilts

Maggie's quilt

Usually I want to talk about plants. Or nature. Or little and big things that catch my eye. Today I can do better than all that. I got my Christmas present from my younger daughter- a beautiful handmade quilt. I know she's been working on it for months. It's her first one. She says it calms her down and she loses her worries in her work. It is a lovely combination of colors and patterns, and it is just perfect for me and my room.

Katie's quilt

This isn't the first quilt that's been made for me. Several years ago, my older daughter made me a quilt. It was also her first, and I think her last. At least so far. It too has lovely warm colors and patterns, very much like the new one, and also perfect for my room.
So now I have two quilts, handmade as labors of love, to keep me warm. The transition has been steady, and is now mostly complete. It used to be my job to bind their threads into the fabric of a family; to wrap them with soft strong surrounds; to keep them warm and protected. And to slowly let them go.
My girls are all grown up. There's a little bit of bittersweet pleasure in that idea. They have selected schools, careers, homes, pets, friends, loves. They have stitched those choices together into very personal and unique patterns. They are beautiful, intelligent, accomplished women- different as night and day- and each the love of my life. They fit me perfectly.  I am still Mom, but will now rest wrapped in the beautifully crafted biographies of my capable girls. These quilts are already heirlooms. I will happily hold them in trust for the generations to come.

The hardest part of raising a child is teaching them to ride bicycles.  A shaky child on a bicycle for the first time needs both support and freedom.  The realization that this is what the child will always need can hit hard.
  ~Sloan Wilson

Blessings of this Season

The first day of winter. Dark early, light late, usually cold and gray. My most un-favorite time of the year. But this year, that turning point has come quickly, and easily. The weather has been gloriously mild, mostly sunny, and sprinkled with good rain.
It is also a busy time of year. I can usually get lost in the hustle and bustle of friends, family, shopping, gifts, visiting, cooking, and working. If I am honest, much of that busyness is in the service of avoiding the dark. This fall has been so much more mellow than others that I am trying to take some time to reflect a bit on the year, and to enjoy the gifts that surround me. I thought I might just share a few here.

Chimonanthus praecox

Chuck's Blue Sport

Heron Fountain, Huntsville Botanical garden

Huntsville Botanical Garden RR

Jasminum nudiflorum

Evergreen Acer

Mahonia x 'Winter Sun'

Pinus thunbergii 'Ogon' candle

Prunus mume 'Rosebud'

Pinus virginiana 'Wate's Golden'

LOOK AND SEE

This morning at waterside, a sparrow flew

to a water rock and landed, by error, on the back

of an elder duck; lightly it fluttered off, amused.

The duck, too, was not provoked, but, you might say, was

laughing.

This afternoon a gull sailing over

our house was casually scratching

its stomach of white feathers with one

pink foot as it flew.

Oh Lord, how shining and festive your gift is to us, if we

only look, and see.

Mary Oliver, from Why I Wake Early

Giving Thanks

If you've followed this blog at all, you are probably wondering when I will start complaining about the short days, early evenings, boredom, paperwork, and cold gray days. And how in the world will I manage to cope this year? I can't say for sure, but it has been such a gorgeous fall that maybe I have just repressed the inevitable.
Instead of getting SAD, I have been enjoying the warm sun, the vibrant colors, the work opportunities in such conditions. I have also been savoring the last days of my "new" garden this year- the Big Leaves.

Musa velutina

Thanks to donations of some of my gardening buddies, I had an absolute ball learning about some tropical looking shrubs, bulbs and perennials that have color, flowers, texture and stature of a completely different nature from my usual conifers, succulents and maples. This new bed has been amazing, luscious, relatively easy (except a little extra water just to get it established) and a treat, in part, because it is here today and will go away when it gets cold.

Brugmansia

Here's what I have learned so far:

Some Colocasias are prolific, regardless of drought. 'China Pink' was gangbusters!! Maybe not the most beautiful, but the toughest.
Even the plain old elephant ears have been very good, without much water or fertilizer. Others with dark leaves, dark stems, yellow or dark splotches did pretty well in the harshest of sunny conditions.

Amsonia hubrectii

Amsonia hubrechtii fall color

Amsonia hubrectii is a fantastic companion plant for these big coarse leaves. The summer foliage is soft, and the fall color is fabulous.

Dahlia imperialis buds

Dahlia imperialis really does get to look like a tree before it forms buds. Unfortunately, we had a bit of early frost this year before it actually bloomed, but I have great hopes for it next year. 
 There are many new lantanas on the market that are MUCH more showy, many more hot and interesting colors, and with an excellent range of sizes and habits.

Apricot Sunrise

Ham 'n Eggs

Vanilla Ice

Lantanas and Margarita

My favorites this summer were 'Ham 'n Eggs', 'Apricot Sunrise', 'Vanilla Ice', and 'Orange Crush'. All are touted to be perennial, and we know that 'Ham n Eggs' actually is. I have my fingers crossed for the others. We'll see next spring.

I am back to loving German Iris. I have been growing both dwarf and repeat bloomers in this bed and they are wonderfully tough and tolerant companions, too.

Big leaf Castor

red leaf Castor

red stem castor bean

The Castor Beans are deadly, but divine!! This year I had red leafed, green leaf and red stemmed, and an incredible HUGE leafed one that dazzled all summer.

Tetrapanax

Tetrapanax grows great in the shade and in the sun!! I gave my little starts a slightly low but totally exposed spot, and they thrived.

Euphorbia myrsinthes and Iris

Euphorbia myrsinthes is maybe one of the most interesting tough plants I have ever grown. I have had great luck with all of them in those tough exposed places, and they have generated the most questions and general interest of all the odd plants in that bed.

Morus alba 'Ho-O'

Most of all, I guess I can say I have made it to another Thanksgiving week full of curiosity, enthusiasm and awe at the world of plants that sit at my fingertips. After a really cold and miserable winter, which was followed immediately by a hot, dry and grueling summer, I am feeling pretty good about easing into a little down time. I've still got lots to learn, and the tremendous gift of time and opportunity to experiment, absorb, and share with my plant geek friends. In this glorious fall season I am so grateful to be able to do what I do. And not even thinking yet about the winter......