As a native Portlander, I get a little defensive when people say things like “It must rain there all the time.” My city-defending instinct first kicked in when I was a kid visiting family in Connecticut, and someone asked if we got snow year round. Somebody got me a “Oregonians don’t tan, we rust!” shirt, which I didn’t find very funny.
Most of the year, I’m at peace with our seasons.
Spring: Fully engage in renewed horticultural obsession.
Summer: Hunker down and pat myself on the back for finally getting that air conditioner, watching the garden from inside.
Fall: Constantly exclaim things like “Look at the trees! Look at this leaf! Look at me wearing boots and a sweater!”
Winter: Pray for snow. Check the weather forecast compulsively. Enjoy the lights and sparkly bits that pop up around town.
But there is an awkward in between period that gets me every year, post-winter, or maybe pre-spring. Holiday celebrations are done. All hope of snow is lost. Coloring books from my youth would have me believe there are cheery flowers bursting forth. But in reality we’re in the March doldrums. I wasn’t annually afflicted until I started gardening and became aware of how long it takes for the garden to be green and leafy again, and this stretch of time is agony.
There is no cure for the March doldrums, but there is treatment that can relieve the symptoms. Now, I’ve never been a sun worshiper, much to the dismay of the wing of the family that digs a poolside vacation, but I’ve learned from them a valuable lesson about the value of blowing town. One year my sun loving kin invited us to join them renting a house in Palm Springs. All I knew about it was that it gave me a hell of a sunburn the one time I visited as a kid. It wasn’t on my radar as a place to go, but as an adult, vacation opportunities are too rare to pass up, so I went back.
Visiting as a grown up, I discovered very a different reason to travel here. While I wouldn’t say there’s a whole lot to do, it’s a funny sort of gardener’s paradise. There are a couple official gardens you can visit, but what is especially exciting is the omnipresence of spectacular plants everywhere, all the time, like they’re no big deal, mostly in front of to-die-for architecture. Plus, it’s quick and can be done fairly inexpensively if you time things right. So now, every couple years, when March is too long to bear, I try to get back there and remember that the plants will be green again soon enough.
Visiting botanical gardens is the main reason to travel, right? Right. Sometimes my traveling companions do not understand this fact.
While my sister was spending a year in Rome, I went for a visit. Our first day in Rome, she gave me a very nice tour of the city along with a complete history lesson, which, if I’m being honest went in one ear and right out the other. Here’s what I hear when anyone talks about history: “buildings, buildings, war, some old guy…” and then it repeats. The next day when we planned to meet up , I had to admit how little I retained from my tour, when my only frame of reference was, “I’m at the building you said used to have cows.” I do have a memory for plants and animals.
My only agenda item in Rome was checking out the botanical garden hidden in plain sight in the picturesque Trastevere. Once you find the 30 acre garden, which is surprisingly easy to miss right in the middle of this huge city, you have the place nearly all to yourself. It’s such a welcome break, when you’re in the middle of a fast paced crowded city where you don’t speak the language, to step 10 feet off the street and find yourself surrounded by peace and quiet and 3500 plants.
The “big crowd” was gathered here. The rest of the joint was deserted.
I laughed, looking back at my photos. I hadn’t taken a single photo of the city. Just the plants. Clearly I have my priorities straight. I’ve tried to select photos that prove this garden was in Rome and not California. (more…)
This week is a good reminder to be thankful if you are one of those lucky people who experience a rush when you see a great garden. Not everyone feels that way about plants, which seems like such a shame.
I remember as a kid, running into the living room on Christmas morning, scanning the fireplace mantle for bulging stockings: the sign that something magical had happened. A botanical garden is pretty much the same thing. Someone kind and generous and capable of miracles crept in quietly before you arrived, left behind things you love, and your whole job is to enjoy them.
This garden was one of those great surprises. I knew there was a garden at the Las Vegas area chocolate factory, but it was a bit of a gamble. Most of the photos I’d previewed were of the Christmas light display, making it hard to tell what kind of garden it would be. And how much nature could really sneak into a place like Las Vegas? Would there be neon lights and slot machines among the cacti? But no, just a serene space with over 400 plants, a couple lizards and rabbits, and a few other passers by. (more…)
Do you ever find yourself on a family vacation, and you want to visit gardens while the rest of the gang has a different agenda? Nah. Probably never.
In May of 2012 I meet up with family in Las Vegas. They were on a multi-month rock climbing road trip. I’m not much of a climber, hiker, or camper but they were staying in nearby Red Rocks doing as much of all of that as possible. Sometimes they trick me into a desert hike with the promise of cool plants. I’ll admit it’s fun to see agaves and cactus blooming in the wild, but pretty quickly I miss air conditioning, running water, and rattlesnake-free walkways. But sometimes I trick them into visiting a chocolate factory with the promise of free candy, while I get to check out the adjoining botanical garden.
As far as family adventure compromises go, I thought this one turned out quite nicely. Ethel M Chocolates in Henderson is less than a half hour’s drive from Las Vegas. The property includes a small but lovely botanical garden that’s free for the public to wander about. Your non-gardening companions can take a chocolate factory tour if they’d rather, but the garden is the main attraction in my book.
After several record setting warm dry months in a row in Portland, I thought winter might have passed us by this year. But there are rumors (some might call them weather forecasts) that tonight is the night wintery weather arrives.
I try not to get too excited about the snow in the forecast because it so rarely actually happens and then I am heartbroken. I doubt the snow will actually happen on Wednesday, but I think we really will get a frost tonight, and then dip down to the mid 20s the next night, so our gardens will start going to sleep.
Now seems like a good time to soak up some of the gorgeous fall display we got to see this year. (more…)
I love all of October, especially Halloween. It’s so much fun to see jack-o’-lanterns and their spooky friends turning up on porches. But me, I’m not a big fan of pumpkin carving. Especially step one, where you find yourself up to your elbows in seeds and stringy pumpkin guts, wondering if you’ll ever get it all so you can get on with the fun part.
And then you have the matter of the pumpkin seeds. Crazy good for you. You should absolutely eat them every chance you get. So delicious salted and roasted. And such a pain in the bum to clean and dry and prep for cooking.
In my fantasy life, I’d have time to spend an afternoon on a cooking project, and I’d pull those slippery seeds out of that mess and enjoy roasted seeds all squash season long. In real life, I usually put them in a bowl for “later” and then throw them away when they’re moldy. I hate throwing away good food! So I am pretty excited I found a way to use those pumpkin parts, without having to cure my case of kitchen laziness.
Bear with me here, I know eating pumpkin guts sounds a little weird and a lot hippie. So let me give you a sneak peak of where this is heading. Chocolate cupcakes in your future.
I was so blinded by this lovely striped bark, I forgot to look up and take note of the leaves, leaving me stumped on the identity of the beauty. I’m thinking it may be a Crepe Myrtle. I have a few lovely trunk mysteries on my hands here. Any bark experts out there?
This neighborhood is proof that gardening is contagious and these neighbors all have the bark bug. (more…)
Last week, I showed off a spectacular mature garden I stumbled across in St. Johns. In my back pocket, I also had photos from the house across the street to share with you this week. Come to find out, Loree recognized the neighborhood and she had posted about the very same garden across the street back in 2011, so we can see it back when it was freshly planted, and fast-forward to what it is today. How cool is that?
I just love it when I’m driving down the street on some uninspired errand, when I spy the house of an obvious mad gardener. Even better when I have time to stop and poke around for a closer look.
This garden makes me happy. Clearly the person who lives here loves plants. They are gifted in a way I envy. They’ve densely packed the garden with a diverse living privacy screen that’ll look good all year round, all without looking like a hoarder.
