slideshow: simple was best in the 2012 garden
IT WASN’T ONE OF THOSE “KA-POW!” YEARS in the garden, visually (well, unless you were my dear old rhubarb, above). In fact at many moments it was more “ka-bam!” (as in things crashing and burning, rather than showing off in bursts of glory). I’d lost 23 big shrubs and three trees in late 2011, in a freakish 18-inch October snow, so between that and the far-too-early, way-too-dry season of 2012, it was a challenge at times. But this is where my strong interest in the “why” of gardening—the science, and the miracles—comes in, so in the absence of big, colorful lilacs and the like, I set about looking for beauty in the details, in simpler, often-smaller things. A slideshow of the 2012 garden:
Click the first thumbnail to start the slides; navigate using the arrows on your keyboard, or the ones beside each caption. (Note: If you are zoomed in too much, or on a tiny device, you won’t see the captions beneath each image.)
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- 2012: The year of early everything. The season began in the second week of January, when the witch-hazels started blooming. They went on and on: This shot, taken Feb. 24, was during one of the only snow events of the entire extra-mild winter.
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- By the first week of February, the pink-colored catkins of Salix chaenomeloides were already fully developed.
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- So was my book manuscript for THE BACKYARD PARABLES, which then would be another year in the making at the publisher, once I handed it in.
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- I was determined to outsmart rodents with “animal-proof” crocus, so I’d planted the species C. tommasinianus in fall 2011. Um, I guess the chippies and such didn’t read the operating manual; they felled every one in March, before it bloomed.
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- Spring had come extra-early, yes, but then another kind of havoc arrived in April. Yellow-flowered magnolias frosted off to orange and then soggy brown overnight (usually they would not have been fully open yet, and would have been safer).
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- Near April’s end, I was running around covering tender things whose foliage was up as far as it is in a “normal” mid- or late-May, when hard frosts are less frequent here.
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- Upside-down pots over the too-fast-emerging emerging hostas!
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- By May, the garden was all fresh and green as expected, but things like lilacs didn’t bloom well, and besides, I’d lost many of my old plants in the Irene storm late the fall before (18 inches of snow around Halloween, 2011).
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- Garlic is one crop that can be counted on to “just do it” no matter what, or so it seems. Early? Late? Hot? Cold? My ‘German Extra Hardy’ hardneck type doesn’t seem to care.
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- Ditto the giant clump of plain old rhubarb that engulfs a long bench by the vegetable garden. A bold but basic plant; not everything need be rare or unusual.
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- Despite a crazy (often dry) summer, and lots of cabbage worms, I mastered broccoli. I have the variety ‘Piracicaba’ to thank; it makes small shoots summer till late fall.
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- Like I said, lots of cabbage worms! (As of December they were still around…at least until it finally snowed and got colder late in the month.)
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- I also did well with two new-to-me heirloom pole beans, including ‘Rattlesnake’…
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- …and ‘Aunt Ada’s Italian’ pole bean, which turned out to be the best ever for making soup. It’s tastiest when the beans start to show in the pods.
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- Speaking of soup, I mastered vegetable soup. Hard to believe after more than 30 years as a vegetarian that I didn’t make it all the time, but now I do.
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- I got down to basics in other things, too, and tried to photograph and then go look up and learn about more insects than before, when I was always “too busy” to stop. Fascinating!
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- I got plenty of chances to have a close look at squash bugs, though the ‘Butternut’ I mostly grow is pretty resilient against them, thankfully.
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- But look at what even so little-appreciated creatures as moths can provide in the way of fascination and beauty. (It’s a small tolype moth, specifically. Hairy!)
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- It wasn’t all vegetables and bugs, but I had my share of special plants, both old and new. I bought my first vertical conifer ever: a Thuja occidentalis ‘Degroots Spire’.
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- An old standard that looks better every year: Canna ‘Musafolia’ or ‘Grande,’ a giant among cannas.
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- Speaking of big, this 3-foot-wide low terra cotta bowl of phormium and ‘Kiwi Fern’ coleus (sun-loving!) and alternanthera was a hit.
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- There is it on the corner of the terrace, for scale (compare it to the dining table). That’s the Canna (about 9 feet tall) behind.
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- I went a little vine crazy, adding more Clematis (and then some more)…
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- …and sharing some cardinal climber vines with the hummingbirds…
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- …and adopting a Rex begonia vine, Cissus discolor (not hardy, and requiring indoor care in winter).
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- It wouldn’t be a garden without my friends the frogs. This little guy gave me the hairy eyeball more than once in midsummer.
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- And this little guy — a spring peeper, a frog I usually hear but rarely see — happened into a flower pot by the door in August, then leapt into the European ginger when I startled him.
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- Again, sometimes the simplest and most familiar things are best, like these pods that follow the self-sown annual “breadseed” poppies (a.k.a. opium poppies).
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- Or the near-monochrome of a green-on-green landscape — the view out the back window in fall, of the field above the house, where I’ve decided to mow differently in 2013.
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- See the beginnings of a longer “island” of grass around the island of tall ornamental grasses? It’s populated with little bluestem, a prairie grass with good fall color. Simple, but beautiful.
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- Nothing could be simpler or more spontaneous than the pictures that nature plans. Raindrops on the tiny leaves of a Japanese maple, for instance…
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- …or Clematis tangutica seedheads in the first snow of late 2012, in November. Here’s to a year that starts with a real winter, and doesn’t rush us, or the plants. A year to stop, look around, and savor even the little, un-fancy and unplanned things. Happy 2013!
Has anyone figured out how to view the slide show in a large enuf format to include all the text. I’m not great w/ computer machinations so I’d appreciate some help. Thanks, the pix are really lovely…
Another great slideshow! Hopefully this year is a lot less weather wacky.
Hi, Stacy — and yes, please! :)
Enjoyed your slide show. I always love visiting and reading your stories…very relaxing usually with a cup of tea in hand. We had an unusual year here as well with the arrival of early spring weather in March then a horrendous fall with hurricanes and nor’easters. Now we are settling into winter with just a brief passing of a snow flurry so far. Have a good New Year and I look forward to more.
Two weeks of pretty cold weather in Kansas has finally turned everything grey and brown, so your slideshow was most nourishing to my gardener’s heart. I loved the pictures of your efforts to save growing things from late frosts – my garden also sprouted buckets, tarps and sheets in April!
Hi, B Riggs. Yes, always some kind of “firedrill” or circus here at the ups and downs of the season. Funny to think of it now, when everything is finally frozen and under the snow at long last! See you soon.
Enjoyed your slideshow, esp. the pix of the peeper! I’ve never seen one either but they sure sing their songs each year in my little pond. On Martha’s Vineyard they are called “pinkletinks” — love the name. Happy New Year to you.
I enjoyed the slide show. Your blog is one of my favorites and I’ve learned so much from you. I’ve been gardening since I was a child, sometimes on a patio and othertimes on acreage but always love to watch something growing! After retirement I became a Master Gardener and I learned how much I still have to learn and it’s exciting. You inspire and also recommend such great plants. I’m in the same zone as you so I relish your suggestions and consequently have many ‘new’ plant family members. Thank you for what you do. Looking forward to your new book. Happy New Year, Margaret!
These are great pictures and have a good year.
I always look forward to your messages, photos and all things garden on your website — thanks so much for sharing your journey with all of us! I’m a new Master Gardener and realize I have so much to learn. I love the Cissus discolor and grew one for the first time last summer. Any tips on this plant? Happy New Year and may we all take time to notice the small things in the garden. Is it spring yet?
Hi, Judy, and thanks for your nice note. I think I’d start with a small plant and even when it gets large make sure it’s in a plastic pot (like an old black plastic nursery container from a shrub or tree, hidden inside a clay one when outside on display, of course) — but so that it’s easy to move in an out in fall/summer. It gets big (and isn’t portable if it’s in a heavy pot).
Great pictures! I love the witchhazel, frogs and other critters. I am awed by your vegetables as well.
Thanks for sharing the slideshow. We lost only one, rather unhealthy tree in our rear yard to Hurricane Sandy. I, too had my very best tomatoes last summer. I also feel happy to have gotten a nice snow cover. It will help plants and even the water supply for next summer. I really want my witch hazel and winterberry plants to take off next year! I love seeing my red twig dogwood against the snow. It is simple joy to see beauty around.
We have 4″ of snow cover now, but right before that hit I saw the tiny tips of my garlic crop peeking out from under its blanket of chipped leaves. Thanks for your slide show – reminders of so many magic moments. We should all slow down enough to absorb the beauty at our fingertips.
Thank you for the recap in great photos. I don’t take enough . It was an interesting year, I had some of the best tomatoes ever though – hot and dry suited us in southern Vermont. Similar thoughts on lilacs and our apples weren’t great, my choices for pots on the porch were totally forgettable. But the days are getting longer and as you said the catalogs are beckoning ! Cheers to a happy, healthy, sane new year.
Dale
Love the year in review slideshow, Margaret. Have a happy, prosperous new year and may we all have a year where we look at the tiny miracles around us and recognize them for what they are.
A lovely look back on what was a difficult year for so many reasons. We continue to garden and share, and now that it’s truly winter make soup and other good things. All the best to you, Margaret, in 2013. And Jack, too!
Beautiful! And Happy New Year!! Am so looking forward to the arrival of your new book.
Enjoy your newsletters, especially the slide shows. Gives me hope that spring will come again. Gc
Lovely slideshow — as I’m enjoying the beautiful snow covering my gardens, looking at these photos makes me so thankful that I live in this area, with its distinct seasons. How fortunate we are to watch the metamorphosis of our landscape each year. Happy New Year, Margaret, and best of luck with your beautiful new book.