The Smallest of Things

"Sometimes," said Pooh, "the smallest things 

take up the most room in your heart."

AA Milne

It has been a very long, very dark, very cold winter here. I don't like long, cold, dark. I am always trying to think of some way to get thru that slide down the last months of the year and past the early ones of the next. This year, I was given the gift of  a good reason to stay engaged.

 

Oscar came to us as a completely feral kitten, foraging for bits of food we left on the tops of the barn shelves, or bits fallen from the suet bird feeders off our deck. We found that he had figured out how to climb up and over into the insulated rafters of the office as his beloved predecessor Zoey had done. He seemed a lost but very industrious little tyke, and we determined to make him ours.

Oscar

From the painful first days he spent in the bathroom of the office to the wild, playful, and very snuggly mornings we routinely spend now, it has been all about the little things. For the first month I never saw the guy.....didn't even know if it WAS a guy! But I faithfully changed litter, left all sorts of food and treats, warm kitty bed, lights, soft covers to hide in. I spent some portion of everyday sitting on the closed top of the toilet talking to a cat who did not want me there. I read about steps he and I would make towards bonding and stuck to the program no matter how hard it was to go slow. As I focused on our little fellow, I looked hard for the slightest behavior that would indicate I was making a dent. And with each tiny step toward tame, he has also tamed my hard winter heart.

Keteleeria davidiana pollen cones

All of a sudden, I see that spring is about to bust out!! But before it does, I am still enjoying the tiniest of things that will lead, step by step, to the dogwood and azalea blowout most acknowledge to be the advent of spring. Every hour, every day that goes by gives me many small things to savor.

Pollen cones are colorful and interesting structures on conifers; early blooming flowering trees have paved the way; emerging seedling and foliage reveal the magic process behind spring.

Pseudolarix amabilis pollen cones

Magnolia flower

Platycladus orientalis 'Morgan'

Seedling Keteleerias emerging

Picea abies seedling

Abies firma seedling

Lindera reflexa flowers

Asarum maximum 'Ling Ling'

Buxus sempervirens 'Pyramidalis' flowers

I spent two hours in warm sun day before yesterday looking and photographing the miracle unfolding. I recommend a dose of this for any one who's been plagued by long or cold or dark. This treatment will fill those empty corners with a new, light perspective, and open up room in your heart for what is really important.

“It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.”
― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

The Nature of Things

Trees
To be a giant and keep quiet about it,
To stay in one's own place;
To stand for the constant presence of process
And always to seem the same;
To be steady as a rock and always trembling,
Having the hard appearance of death
With the soft, fluent nature of growth,
One's Being deceptively armored,
One's Becoming deceptively vulnerable,
To be so tough, and take the light so well,
Freely providing forbidden knowledge
Of so many things about heaven and earth
For which we should otherwise have no word-
Poems or people are rarely so lovely,
And even when they have great qualities
They tend to tell you rather then exemplify
What they believe themselves to be about,
While from the moving silence of trees,
Whether in storm or calm, in leaf and naked,
Night or day, we draw conclusions of our own,
Sustaining and unnoticed as our breath,
And perilous also-though there has never been
A critical tree-about the nature of things. 

Howard Nemerov

I've spent purposeful hours in a wide range of weather this winter, drawn by the blue of the sky and the hope of the sun's warmth. It is easy to sit back in cold short days trying to wait it out until spring seems closer. But if you do, you miss so much.

Twice now I have toured older Arboretums to admire the big trees. Twice now I have come away with sense of order; a humble awe; a big smile. 

Pinus glabra

On the UNC campus in Chapel Hill we toured the Coker Arboretum in the 75 degree weather of this winter's late December.

Quercus alba

    I have been here many times, and still find gems until then unseen. Most magnificent among those grand Coker specimens I found this time was the glorious Pinus glabra. Pinus glabra is a tree found on the coastal plains of the southern United States, from southern South Carolina south to northern Florida and west to southern Louisiana. Outside of it's current range, it clearly continues to perform very well over a long period of time. I have seen this tree in more southern settings, but none as large and grand as this one.

Wonderful oaks abound in both the Coker Arboretum and the UGA campus Arboretum and many other specimens, both rare and common. All invite reflection and admiration.

Eucalyptus

Quercus stellata

In addition to the grand scale of the great grandfather trees, there is also the lure of the small scale. Would I really say "tree hugging distance"? Probably not. But especially in winter, the details reveal themselves, and capture the attention that begs for a closer look. The texture, color, and shape of tree bark is an ornamental characteristic that is very often overlooked, yet can be definitive in determining identification of a species. On a recent walk in extreme cold weather with a group of plant enthusiasts, we spent a good amount of time on the identifying details of bark, habit, branch structure. Although winter ID can be difficult, by the time the walk was over, they were much more confident and attuned to the small details, and, I think, much more appreciative of the nuances that distracted us all from the cold conditions.

Big old trees/ blue sky

Quercus nigra

Quercus rubra

Ulmus americana

Calocedrus decurrens

Betula nigra

Sequoia sempervirens

With just a little effort, one can see each tree as a member of a group, but then also as an individual. Most tree species have a recognizable habit as they mature. But not every tree will look the same over time. Careful attention to these details can reveal very special plants that stand out. Making friends with individual trees is a journey into your own sensibilities, exposing wonder, and a continuity often interrupted by our busy lives.

Eucalyptus

Firmiana simplex

The older I get, the more that continuity seems important, and there is a lot to learn from the study of trees. As Nemerov says, "Poems or people are rarely so lovely...." and rarely such exemplar models of the nature of things.

THE NATIONAL REGISTER OF BIG TREES

You might be a conehead if.......

Out of the heat of summer and the cool sun of fall comes winter. And with winter comes cold and rain, short days and long opportunities to do paperwork. Ugh. I have worked hard to develop antidotes to this short light season that don't involve alcohol, and one of these is an interest in conifers. After years of cultivating this interest, and hanging around others with the same affinity, I think I can call myself a true conehead. So, how would one know this? Here are a few clues:

You might be a conehead if:

1) You stopped caring about flowers years ago, but.....

                                                     2) Your garden is wonderfully colorful all year around.

3) You begin to use words describing the color palette of your conifers that sound more like interior decorator lingo, or possibly wine reviews.

4) The term "stomatal band pattern" becomes a rallying cry, and an invitation to raise a magnifying glass for all those gathered round.

5) You walk up to a conifer, then look, touch and smell all at the same time.

6) In the southeast, if you have conifers (other than pines) with cones, you throw cocktail parties to talk about them.

7) You've started to speak in Latin without really trying.

8) "Dwarf" now means "grows less than 6" a year.

9) The plant you spent the most on is the smallest one you own.

10) You've started to ask complete strangers what they know about   understocks, compatibility, cloning and root pruning.

11) You recruit your friends to join you in your habit, dragging them out on cold, blustery days to one garden or another with good conifer specimens.

Don't knock it till you've tried it. As addictions go, this one is pretty benign, and loads of fun! Friends, heat and insect-free gardening, rich doses of texture, lots to learn and enjoy. Be the most colorful, interesting, enthusiastic gardener on your block, and before you know it, spring will be here!!

Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.  ~John Muir

Franky Boy Can't Swim.......or What I Observed in 2013

In the hope of having learned something over the last year, I decided to challenge myself to make a list of things that were new to me, or perhaps just surprising reminders of things I already knew. Here is the list, in no particular order:

1) Get used to drought conditions, and it will start raining. Get used to warm conditions, and you'll freeze your ______ off come winter.

2) Sometimes more plants die from too much water than from not enough. Witness -
Platycladus orientalis 'Franky Boy'.

Platycladus orientalis 'Franky Boy'

He was planted in a lower area for the past three years, and seemed to be happy with a little extra moisture in that spot. After one rainy spring into summer, 'Franky Boy' seems to have drowned in that same spot.

3) You should always tell the truth. You just don't have to tell it so loud.

4) There are advantages and disadvantages in agreeing to be on an industry garden tour. The tour deadline is a good way to get things done, although much sleep is sacrificed as a result. The best part is getting to meet and talk with some icons in the world of horticulture.

With Martin van der Giessen, Margie Jenkins, 

Brie Arthur, and Barry Yinger

I'll take that deal every time.


5) The more you do, the more you can do. The more you think you can't get it all done, the more you can't.

 6) A good employee is worth his weight in gold. (wait a minute, make that MY weight in gold....he's pretty skinny) I sure will miss that boy.

Adam Autry and the bench in the boulder garden

7) Get rid of the negative.

8) Even though you don't have time, get away. See a garden, visit a nursery, catch up with an old friend, take a hike, read a book. They say that when you are standing just outside the Pearly Gates, you never once wish you had stayed later at work. I think they are right.

My best friend Joe

9) Marrying your best friend is ALWAYS the right decision.

10) Your kids are always your kids, and that can make for some very whiny late afternoons. But just put them in the virtual bathtub for an hour or two and you'll see what lovely, smart, and accomplished young ladies they've turned out to be. As one of my very wise friends says, (they are) "what regulates our temperatures"....

11) When deciding what plants to grow for the next year just remember.....they only really want the ones you are sold out of.

12) Don't give up. Just take a break.

13) Pruning is the most important job in the nursery. Too bad I always run out of time before I get to it. I am not talking about plant haircuts. I am talking about trying to uncover the art and elegance of each plant. I did a better job last year, and saw the benefits. I'll be cooking up that extra time I need along with the other dishes for Thanksgiving dinner.

14) Grafting season is coming up. From the look of my list, I sure hope I'll be living another 50-60 years. But just in case I'm not, it's still better to look forward than back.

15) The love of plants can be contagious, and there is nothing more fun than watching someone "catch" that condition. I have happily counted several customers among the newly afflicted, and believe that I served as the vector. I'll be making an effort to spread the passion in the new year.

Accidental Potatoes

“Instructions for living a life.

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it.”

 Mary Oliver

 Now that it has turned cold, it was time to spend a little effort on cleaning up my summer vegetable garden beds. Gray watery tomato vines were sprawled out and over the edges of my raised beds. Full unpicked peppers hung limp on ghostly stems. Bleached leaves of broccoli and brussel sprouts showed that they were no match for 25 degrees. So I started pulling things out. The summer vegetables came out easily. Some dried out vines hung on like they had anchors. In fact, they did.

After rooting around in the soil, I came out with roots.....and their attached potatoes. I had forgotten all about them. That is, forgotten them this summer after they came up as volunteers from last spring's incomplete harvest. I quickly mobilized to find other forgotten treasures. By the time I had exhausted myself, I had filled a 7 gallon bucket full of large red skinned potatoes. I proudly washed and dried and presented the bounty to my very impressed husband.

But something about the whole episode is nagging at me. I spend much of my time trying as hard as I can to make things grow. I read. I listen. I talk. I try one recipe after another to make it work, sometimes with success and sometimes with failure. I like the puzzle, and enjoy putting the pieces together to reveal the picture. It makes me feel empowered, like the magician who knows the secret to the trick. Yet this surprise yield thrilled me as much as any other planned crop. This potato harvest had been completely independent of anything I had done, apart from the original planting and the deficient gathering.

Ok.....let's get real here.Who am I kidding? My place here in this big old universe is very special. I am lucky enough to be like the little kid standing on the stool watching Mom cook, or Dad at his workbench. I get to lean up against Mother Nature, and if I am very quiet, and if I pay very close attention, maybe over time I'll learn how she does it. But make no mistake. It is happening with me or without me. Whatever work I am doing all day everyday is just tapping in to the ongoing beauty and brilliance of the cosmos; the essence of the force; the soul of the universe.

It is at once humbling, and exhilarating. It is a revelation that recurs to me in these tiny moments, and yet it is always new. Forgive me if I repeat myself. I just had to tell you.

Whodunit

"Murder is easy, if no one suspects you"- Agatha Christie

 It was barely light, and slightly foggy.  Still, she could see that something was not right. Pots were tossed here and there, soil spilled out, piled up and soggy. Limbs and twigs lay all strewn about, or buried under piles. The still morning belied the violence of the night before. In spite of all efforts, the murders continued.....

 The first plants were found, dug and discarded, one early summer dawn. They were distributed here and there in the cold frames. At first, there was no pattern at all. Later, the murderer seemed to remember easy prey and return night after night to the scene of his crimes.

Of course the community was already on high alert. Neighbors shared their own experiences and precautions. Some erected fences, some put up security lighting, some even went to the extremes of piping in talk radio as a deterrent. As a last resort, traps were set. 

 They'd been used to the odd squirrel here and there digging in pots to distribute the abundant pecan crop. It wouldn't have been a shock to find a little digging, but squirrels usually finish up the job and cover up. Mostly, no one even notices until the pecan seedling overcomes whatever the host pot plant was. Of course there are always rabbits to munch and nibble. When they had their nursery cat, the rabbits were in check. Since she's been gone, Peter and his brothers and sisters have taken over the place. But as suspects, they did not seem to have a motive to dig up the plants that fed them. 

Those in the southeast have seen the rise of the Armadillos- a Mexican gang whose members are growing and whose reputation was one of wanton destruction.

Circumstantial evidence pointed to the the armadillo gang. Several members were seen in the area at night without reliable alibis.
The evidence seemed to indicate that the Armadillo gang was, indeed responsible for the devastation, and the BOLO  was sent out for their capture. Yet the savagery continued even as the gang came under more and more scrutiny.

 Days went on with no relief, and the nighttime slaughter of newly transplanted grafts and cuttings continued.She felt sad, frustrated and more desperate. She spent hours shopping for chicken wire and tie backs and staples to try to set up  her own version of the border fence. Those hideous immigrants would destroy her tender young propagules with their indiscriminate foraging.

As a last resort, the armadillo trap, which had gone empty and useless for weeks, finally caught an unlikely suspect- Rocky...of the Racoons. Turns out, Rocky had been hiding behind the publicity and reputation of the Armadillos, and was just following behind to ravage the same plants that the armadillo gang had already approached.  In fact, Rocky had been swept up in the dragnet weeks before. He was questioned and released because the detectives had not asked the right questions: "Do you travel at night?" Do you eat worms and grubs and insects?" "Do you have the manual dexterity to climb over pots and remove three gallon sized plants from their pots without dumping over the pot itself?" 

But this time, Rocky had made the mistake of leaving a different, and telltale clue at the scene- a pile of small bird feathers. This time, our Miss Marple would do extensive research to lay out the case against Rocky. Racoons do forage at night; have immense manual skills; eat almost anything...including birds! He'd been caught in the trap, along with some of the newly excavated grafts. No matter how innocent those big racoon eyes looked, he was going down for the crime this time. Down to the woods off Marshall Store and off to find a new home.

"The tear rose in Miss Marple's eyes. Succeeding pity, there came anger - anger against a heartless killer. And then, displacing both these emotions, there came a surge of triumph - the triumph some specialist might feel who has successfully reconstructed an extinct animal from a fragment of jawbone and a couple of teeth." Agatha Christie- A Pocket Full of Rye

Closer to Fine

You win some, you lose some.

 Yep.

 Success is a journey, not a destination. The doing is often more important than the outcome. Arthur Ashe

Ok, I can go with that one. Seems like something I have heard all my life, in one way or another. And how about this one:

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

Albert Einstein

Or maybe we could throw in :

Be careful what you wish for.

This has been the summer in my garden that has tested- and proved- many age old adages such as those above. Instead of fierce heat, we've had cool moderation that gently nudged spring into summer. Instead of clear blue and beating sun, we've had a sky filled to overflow with the richest of cloud formations. And we've had RAIN. Rain we've prayed for over radar maps for day after day, year after year. Rain whose half year totals rival a large handful of annual totals. (http://www.srh.noaa.gov/ffc/?n=rainfall_scorecard)

What I've grown accustomed to seeing and doing in summer has all changed, and in some ways, I seem to be starting all over again in learning how to think about gardening.

For example, take my vegetable garden. In the last couple of years I have grown increasingly confident in my efforts to grow certain vegetables. In fact, the greatest horticultural accomplishment of my career came just this year, with my first crop of real carrots

(not those orange nubs with all the green fluff I was so good at growing) I had taken an interest in growing heirloom tomatoes, and enjoyed picking out varieties that would suit our climate. This year I chose Tombola Mix

Tombola Mix

New Yorker

New Yorker

Southern Nights

 and Southern Nights . 

It was my guess that Southern Nights would be best suited for the heat overnight; that Tombola would produce many different size, shape and colored tomatoes for salads, and that New Yorker would suffer. WRONG!  As of yesterday, the Tombola Mix has produced absolutely gorgeous, lush plants without a fruit, and only a very few flowers. The New Yorker plants are healthy and loaded down with fruit, some of which has already ripened. And the Southern Nights are all but dead! No doubt the rain has had something to do with all this, but my careful plans had not accounted for this variable.

Plants that have performed beautifully for years and years- especially in the drought- have quickly given up the ghost in the early summer rain. Others that may have been known for drought tolerance but not wet tolerance have surprised and amazed me with their vigor.

What the books say isn't always what happens.
In some ways, I like that. I've always been interested in testing the plants in different situations just to see what they will take. Maybe I can't predict the weather, but I want to try to know how the plants will respond.I also like just watching the progress. Nothing ever grows perfectly evenly. Some years the flowers are early, or small, or profuse. Some seasons the foliage is sumptuous, the fruit is prolific. 
On the one hand, it can be discouraging. So much work goes into gardening that the losses can be disheartening, and even expensive. On the other hand, our great success stories are exhilarating, and worth their carrot weight in gold! It's what draws me to gardening. It's the sun, the rain, the physical labor, the dirt,  the thought, the interaction. It's the challenge against the odds of that game that brings the enjoyment. The ideal garden is an oxymoron- there is no such thing. But the pure pleasure in the capture of a perfect garden moment......now that's priceless.

"....the less I seek my soul in some definitive, closer I am to fine" Amy Ray and Emily Saliers- 
The Indigo Girls     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=miqUNlX6ig8