CHAPTER 1
Spring
Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world.—Virgil A. Kraft
In the Garden
In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd palings,Stands the lilac-bush tall frowing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,With many a pointed blossom ringing delicate, with the perfume strong I love, With everyleaf a miracle ...
—Walt Whitman
About to Blossom
One of my favorite times in my flower garden is pre-bloom time. The blush on the plantabout to bloom starts to glow. It resembles a young girl of that certain age—twelve?thirteen?—just starting to fill out, grow up, straining to show her hidden promise. Then, ashine and dominance as it pushes everything out of the way to say, "Watch out world,here I come!" Tomorrow or the next day, I know it will be soon. Its arms reach out to thewarm sun and soft spring rains. Everything surrounding it stays down and low, letting thisone have its turn in the sun. I await anxiously for the peak to arrive. Tomorrow?
One of the most delightful things about a garden is the anticipation it provides.
—W. E. Johns
Signs of Spring
Nature signals the return of spring to each of us in a different way. For some, it is theblooming of a redbud or forsythia; for others, it is the determined daffodil, who is thetrumpeter of spring, in bold pre-Easter yellow. For me, it is the dogwood tree, budding upeverywhere with pink-infused blossoms of thickest cream. I love that the dogwood is sucha democrat, growing anywhere and everywhere, in places where no other such beautydare show herself.
A man ought to carry himself in the world as an orange tree would if it could walk up anddown in the garden, swinging perfume from every little censer it holds up in the air.
—Henry Ward Beecher
Wildflower Meadow
I don't know about you, but I believe a lawn is vastly overrated. It takes a tremendousamount of water, too much labor, and causes vast quantities of chemicals to be dumpedinto our water supply. So I decided to dig mine up and plant a wildflower meadow instead.It took some work to get going, but within four weeks I had my first bloom. It was aglorious sight for six months and unlike a lawn, virtually maintenance-free. Plus I had analmost endless supply of cut flowers from late spring to late fall.
The tricks are to till the soil in the spring, select a pure wildflower mix (no grass orvermiculite filler) appropriate to your growing area, and blend the seed with four times itsvolume of fine sand so it will disperse evenly. After you've spread it over the dirt, lay downa layer of loose hay to keep the seeds from blowing away. Usually the mixes are acombination of annuals, biannuals, and perennials. And to keep the annuals going, youhave to rough up parts of the soil and reseed just those every year.
To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.
—Beverley Nichols
The Way to a Woman's Heart is Through Her Nose
I have always been extremely sensitive to smells. Blessed (or cursed) by a finely tunedsense of smell, I find I am often led around by my nose. I have fallen in love because ofthe way a man smelled; when I was a child and my parents were away on a trip, I used tosteal into their bathroom and smell their robes hanging on the back of the door. One of myfavorite books is Perfume, the story of a man so affected by scents he can smell themfrom hundreds of miles away.
Naturally enough, I am attracted to flowers primarily for their scent. All my roses arechosen for odor—spicy-sweet, musky, peppery—if they don't smell good, I don't wantthem. My current favorite is a climber called Angel Face. I also love the heady smell oflavender, the spiciness of daffodils, the romance of lilacs and lilies of the valley, and thesubtlety of certain bearded irises. I particularly love the elusiveness of fragrance. Youcatch a scent in the garden and follow your nose to ... where? Now it's here; then it's gone.That's why I love the sweet olive tree that blooms in southern California in early spring.The fragrance is strong in the early evening as you walk down the street, but press yournose against a blossom and the scent diminishes.
My husband, who knows of my fragrant passion, surprised me last spring by planting me ahuge patch of multicolored sweet peas and an entire bed of rubrum and Casablanca lilies.Batches of sweet peas perfumed my office throughout the spring. Extremely long-lastingas cut flowers, the lilies bloomed for two solid months during the summer and, all thattime, the house was full of their heady scent. I don't think any gift has ever pleased memore.
And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes,
like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight
than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air.
—Francis Bacon
Fragrant Plants
Smell is so individual—I love narcissus, but know many people who can't stand it, andfolks wax eloquent about wisteria, the smell of which makes me sick. So in creating afragrant garden, let your nose be your guide. Here are some suggestions: jasmine,honeysuckle, sweet autumn clematis, mimosa, hosta, stock, evening primrose, nicotana,angel trumpet (especially the white), moonflower, sweet pea, ginger, lily of the valley,peony, and pinks.
Working in the garden gives me something beyond the enjoyment of senses. It gives me aprofound feeling of inner peace.
—Ruth Stout
My Primrose Patch
As a young girl, I was particularly taken by a row of primroses my mother had in a borderplanting. The colors were deep and pure like my favorite crayons—purplish blues, intensered-orange, and buttery yellows. I loved that such beauty came up out of a rathercommonplace and cabbagey foliage. When Mom showed me how to carefully separatethe "babies" from the established adult primroses, I planted my very own in my favoritemysterious blue in "my" part of the garden. Mom, who ran a small but busy dairy farm,also showed me her secrets of accelerating plant growth, without the blue hormone-filledpotions you could buy at the hardware store. (That was cheating in her book.) She wouldtake well "cured" cow dung and mix it into the soil around her plants. I took her cue, andby the next spring I had a prim little row of primroses that had all sprung from the baby Ihad brought home and transplanted. It was at that point that my mom nodded approvinglyand I was pronounced to have a green thumb.
One of the daintiest joys of spring is the falling of soft rain among blossoms.
—Mary Webb
A Flower Bed
I found an old bed in a neighbor's trash. It was too pretty to be thrown away. It had onlythe foot and headboard. I set them at each end of a row of flowers in one of my gardens.When a passerby asks me why the bed is in the middle of my garden, I reply with,"Haven't you ever heard of a flower bed?" I now have a herb bed too. I'm looking for an oldcrib to set around my seedlings, and that will be my nursery bed.
The first gathering of salads, radishes and herbs made me feel like a mother about herbaby—how could anything so beautiful be mine?
—Alice B. Toklas
The Boldness of Tulips
I love tulips better than any other spring flower: They are the embodiment of alertcheerfulness and tidy grace, and next to a hyacinth they look like wholesome, freshlyscrubbed young girls beside stout ladies whose every movement weights down the airwith patchouli. Their faint, delicate scent is refinement itself; and is there anything in theworld more charming than the sprightly way they hold up their little faces to the sun? Ihave heard them called bold and flaunting. But to me they seem modest grace itself, onlyalways on the alert to enjoy life as much as they can and not afraid of looking the sun oranything else above them in the face.
To dig one's own spade into one's own earth! Has life anything better to offer than this?
—Beverley Nichols
The Pleasure of Sound
If you want a more sophisticated sound for your garden than wind chimes normally offer,consider garden bells. They are a set of cup shaped metal bells on wires that come with abase. Like chimes, they peal when blown by the breeze. Unlike chimes, however, thetones change when they are filled with rain, and their sound can be adjusted by bendingthe wires. Call Woodstock Percussion, (800-422-4463).
And all it lends to the sky is this—A sunbeam giving the air a kiss.
—Harry Kemp, "The Hummingbird"
A Spring Reverie
In the enclosure, the spring flowers are almost too beautiful—a great stretch of foamlikecowslips. As I bend over them, the air is heavy and sweet with their scent, like hay andnew milk and the kisses of children, and, further on, a sunlit wonder of chiming daffodils.
Before me are two great rhododendron bushes. Against the dark, broad leaves theblossoms rise, flame-like, tremulous in the still air, and the pear rose loving-cup of amagnolia hands delicately on the grey bough.
May all your weeds be wildflowers.
—Gardening plaque
For Love of Weeds
As I work in my vegetable garden, tenderly planting seedlings of peppers, cucumbers, andtomatoes, I suddenly spot the weeds and regretfully rip them out by their roots.Regretfully, because I'm a great fan of weeds. Weeds are the wonder workers of theworld. Weeds covered the hellhole of Hiroshima with a living green carpet of hope. Withina year after the volcanic explosion, weeds brightened the miles of volcanic ash aroundMount St. Helen's. As I stood in Yellowstone disconsolately peering at a desolate forest ofgiants blacked by the great fire, my eye fastened on small clumps of green—patches ofweeds whispering on the winds, "we will be back."
Rain in spring is as precious as oil.
—Chinese proverb
Surprise Guests
I strive to be an urban gardener but rarely do much better than a pot of basil and a fewannuals in my window boxes. However, I discovered a toil-free pleasure in my back patio.Since we live in an older building, there are a bunch of old planters filled with dirt andscruffy remnants of plants. One day I decided to water these planters and was pleasantlyrewarded a week or so later with a profusion of mostly weeds but some flowers. One boxeven yielded a red tulip this spring. Even the weeds are pretty though' and one bunch hastiny orange flowers on spindly branches. All it took was a little time and a little water. Ienjoy the daily anticipation as new things reveal themselves, and, besides, it's far prettierthan the brown scruffy stuff.
To win the secret of a weed's plain heart.
—James Russell Lowell
Produce for Apartment Dwellers
If you have no space or time for a garden (or are plagued by critters eating your goodiesbefore you get to them), try creating hanging vegetable baskets. According to experts,almost anything can be grown in a basket, but be sure to get compact growing varieties ofthe vegetables you want. Buy 14-inch diameter wire baskets (16-inch for zucchini orwatermelons). It's best to grow one type of vegetable per basket, although a variety oflettuces or herbs will work well together.
Line with sphagnum moss and fill with potting soil. Plant seedlings rather than seeds, andhang the baskets outdoors from patios or rafters where they will get at least four hours ofafternoon sun. Avoid overwatering seedlings, but once they become established, beaware you need to feed and water frequently; on the hottest days, they may even need tobe watered twice a day! Once seedlings are three weeks old, fertilize every three weekswith an all-purpose soluble fertilizer, but never feed unless the soil is damp.
To be beautiful and to be calm, without mental fear, is the ideal of nature.
—Richard Jefferies
Easy Care Gardening
Too busy to care for a vegetable garden on your own or don't have the room? Considerwhat 100,000 folks around the United States do—"buy" shares in someone's large garden.All shareholders agree to pay a certain amount per year and, in exchange, get weeklybaskets of produce. Depending on where you live, deliveries can be anywhere fromtwenty–two to fifty–two weeks per year.
Like most good ideas, this one has a name—Community Supported Agriculture—and anorganization, CSANA. According to CSANA, shares usually cost between 300 and 600dollars per year. (Many offer discounts for labor; since the work is shared, no one isoverburdened, and there's the added bonus of meeting fellow gardeners you might nototherwise know.) For more information about the 600 farms that belong to CSANA,contact them at (413-528-4374) or e-mail to csana@bcn.net. Their web address ishttp://www.umass.edu/umext/CSA.
I am not ... certain that I want to be able to identify all the warblers. There is a charmsometimes in not knowing what or who the singer is.
—Donald Culross Peattie
Remembering Lilacs
I suppose the garden behind my grandparents house was small, but to a four-year-old itseemed immense. The distance from the backdoor to the end of the yard was a journeyfrom the safety of home, across an expanse of grass, around orderly flower beds, andfinally to the marvelous wilderness of the tall, old lilac hedge. I discovered that a persistentpush would let me enter a cool, green space under the branches of the lilacs. There I dailyestablished my first household, presiding over tea parties for an odd assortment of stuffedanimals and the patient family cat.
Now, nearly seven decades later, the heady scent of lilacs takes me back to that gardenwhere I took those first ventures toward independence—though never out of sight of thefamiliar backdoor.
Unless the soul goes out to meet what we see we do not see it; nothing do we see, not abeetle, not a blade of grass.
—William Henry Hudson
Public Gardening
Longing for a garden but have no place for one? Take advantage of the variety of placesthat have gardens: zoos, public gardens and parks, cemeteries, college campuses,garden club tours, nurseries and garden centers, or a friend's house. In many cities thesedays, there are also community gardens and gardening coops in which you can get yourhands dirty. Call your parks and recreation department. (All of the above are also greatplaces to get ideas if you do have a garden.)
The only conclusion I have ever reached is that I love all trees, but I am in love with pines.
—Aldo Leopold
Butterfly Haven
If you want to increase the butterfly population in your yard, there's a wide variety offlowers that will attract them, including common yarrow, New York aster, Shasta daisy,coreopsis, horsemint, lavender, rosemary, thyme, butterfly bush, shrubby cinquefoil,common garden petunia, verbena, pincushion flowers, cosmos, zinnia, globe amaranth,purple coneflower, sunflowers, lupine, delphinium. In creating a butterfly-friendly place,consider that they also need wind protection, a quiet place to lay eggs, and water to drink.
If you want to see a butterfly garden before you get started, many botanical societies havethem. In Washington, D.C., the Smithsonian just opened one adjacent to the NationalMuseum of Natural History. Good guides include: The Butterfly Garden by MatthewTekulsky (Harvard Common Press) or Butterfly Gardening by Xerces Society/SmithsonianInstitution (Sierra Club Books).
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars,And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren,And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest,And the runny blackberry would adorn the parlors of heavenAnd the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any statue,And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.
—Walt Whitman
With Family and Friends
All God's pleasures are simple ones; the rapture of a May morning sunshine, the streamblue and green, kind words, benevolent acts, the glow of good humor.
—F. W. Robertson
The Wonders of Wildflowers
My mother is a naturalist at heart. She treasures wildflowers much more than thedomesticated plants I adopted as a child. She would take me on wildflower walks andteach me the secret flora of meadow and wood. I learned to identify wild irises, jack-in-the-pulpit, Dutchman's breeches, larkspur, lady's slippers, and dozens of gorgeous anddelicate specimens. I wondered at the difference between the small and seemingly rarewildflowers and the big and bold flowers that grew in our garden. The irises especiallywere in great contrast—wild irises were about four inches high and the irises I started frommy aunt's were over two feet tall.
