Blending in on May Hill...







(Thank you, Kate.) Well, I’m amazed and delighted to be here. I used to do gigs like this often. But I haven’t given a talk in some 23 years. About the last presentation I remember putting together before I left work (in those remote times we called these things slide lectures and we used actual slides)—that last presentation was on vines and— it was largely pictures I’d taken on vacation at Innisfree and at the Cary (which then had lots of clematis). Well, here I am, again!

Those Innisfree and Cary pictures may still be in a dusty slide carousel, but today we’ll look at images of the garden David and I have made since that time, in Columbia County— how it fits into the surrounding landscape. Really, though, much of this program could be taken as homage to Innisfree. I want to show some ideas,  maybe a sensibility, in common between that— great garden— and our minor one. Themes in common are, first and last, respect for the site, with its inherent features (stone in particular)— but also, as Kate has written about Innisfree, a sensibility part Asian and part 20th century modernist. Kate did seem to hope that this talk would have Ideas, as well as plants and pictures. Presumably she won’t mind if some of the ideas are just cribbed from her (I love her, and she does make me think)— and then applied to looking at our garden.

Your handout shows— well, that I have a preposterous number of slides to run through— so— we’ll go fast. The handout has both common and Latin names for pretty well all the plants— if I don’t have time to give them all.


Here are some views from our place.



 



We sit on a south-facing slope, looking across the farmed valley to those rolling hills. It’s where the Hudson River Valley just starts to fold up into the foothills of the foothills of the Berkshires.



Hudson River School painters weren't just making it up.







Wisps of mist outline the neighboring hills.



Those mists sometimes give our valley the look of Chinese or Japanese scroll painting.



When we came here from Philadelphia we looked at this beauty all around us as a delight (well, of course!), but also as a problem— it was intimidating; it seemed to make the kinds of gardening we were used to almost beside the point. How does the eye get from that lovely but big patchwork of wooded hills and hayfields to care about, say, a clematis? No, even worse— to a snowdrop?

I’ll show some of the ways we’ve tried to deal with that problem. (We’ll also look at some plants, of course, the stuff we grow because we just can’t help it!) At the end I’ll try to claim that we’ve had a little success at blending in with our surroundings; and then you can say what you think or ask questions.




Our first notion, as we thought of building a house here, was to set it in a meadow clearing. A more-or-less prairie meadow might be a reflection of the farm fields below. (If the prairie meadow ended up in weeds, it could still reflect the roadsides below— Queen Anne’s Lace, chicory, asters, goldenrods, wonderful, really— we do love these roadsides.) We would also have a fenced vegetable garden, maybe some gravel outside the front door. Not really more than that, surely. (It was 1992, we both had AIDS, there were no good drugs yet, we were already crazy even to be building a house, let’s have some sense!) That enveloping meadow with fenced garden is still the basic ground plan, but we have done a little more. Gardeners are like that. (And the drugs did get better.)



This view of the West Meadow shows the tapestry effect of emphatically flowering plants (heliopsis, mountain mint, and bergamot), woven through waving grasses.
 


The East Meadow has taller grasses, here, Turkeyfoot, Andropogon gerardii. The young tree in the meadow is an American Smoketree, Cotinus obovatus.



Meadows are decisively successional plant communities. The first full season after planting the meadow (mostly from seed) we had oceans of black-eyed susans. They're annuals or short-lived perennials, needing open ground space for their seedlings to grow, so we now have few-- mostly they turn up in garden beds or gravel paths.



Bergamot, Monarda fistulosa, in the west meadow




Now let’s look at that meadow through the seasons.



The spring meadow itself can be a bit bleak-- it's predominantly warm-season grasses, so slow to green up. The edges are more rewarding, including this grove of gray birch, Betulis populifolia, with the green lace of inflorescences and young leaves.



Shadblow (Amelanchier sp., Amelanchier arborea?) and emerging Quaking Aspen foliage (Populus tremuloides)



In the early years I resisted tarting up the meadow with naturalized daffodils, but principles crumble with age. Narcissus 'Red Lips', with light yellow N. 'Fellows Favorite' behind.



This is a cyclamineus hybrid, with typically swept-back perianth, Narcissus 'Rapture'.



Wild Lupine (Lupinus perennis) in the west meadow. Lupines are perennial, but not long-lived. They have wandered from their original planting sites and flourished or dwindled unpredictably.






Pale Purple Coneflower (Echinacea pallida) in the west meadow



 White Baptisia (Baptisia alba) in the west meadow




Kate calls our July shortgrass meadow "Monarda Meadow", for its showiest flowering.


The west meadow with False Sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides)


The west meadow with Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) and False Sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides)



The meadow includes a few small shrubs-- subshrubs or cutback shrubs. Here, Leadplant (Amorpha canescens). This species gets mown in April along with most of the meadow.



The tallgrass east meadow is dominated by Turkeyfoot (Andropogon gerardii). Here the grass is scrim for Gray Coneflower (Ratibida pinnata) and Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa).



 Ironweed (Vernonia fasciculata), Early Goldenrod (Solidago juncea), Narrowleaf Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum tenuifolium) and Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa)  in the west meadow



Purple Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea), Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) and Early Goldenrod (Solidago juncea) in the west meadow








Prairie Blazingstar (Liatris pycnostachya), Sweet Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia subtomentosa) Narrowleaf Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum tenuifolium), Earlly Goldenrod (Solidago juncea) and Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) in the west meadow



Prairie Blazingstar (Liatris pycnostachya)



Prairie Blazingstar (Liatris pycnostachya) and Narrowleaf Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum tenuifolium), fenced garden and distant view



Rough Blazingstar (Liatris aspera), Narrowleaf Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum tenuifolium), Little Bluestem (Schyzachirium scoparium) and Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum) in the west meadow










Hairy Sunflower (Helianthus mollis) and Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) in the east meadow



A favorite slope, with Early Goldenrod (Solidaga juncea) and Little Bluestem (Schyzachirium scoparius) in the west meadow



A prickly looking native sea holly, Rattlesnake Master (Eryngium yuccifolium), with Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) in the east meadow






Purple Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea), Bergamot (Mondarda fistulosa), and Switchgrass (Panicum virgatum) with the folly birdhouses in the west meadow. The birdhouses make a sculptural grouping of five-- not more than two houses are occupied at a time, but usually one has bluebirds.



A more conventional bluebird house, at the prescribed height. It's usually taken by tree swallows, this past summer by wrens. Indiangrass (Soghastrum nutans) is catching the light, with Brown-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia triloba), in the east meadow.



Cutleaf Coneflower (Rudbeckia laciniata) in the west meadow



Canada Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis), Cutleaf Coneflower (Rudbeckia laciniata), fenced garden, and distant view. This tall and strongly rhizomatous goldenrod has been called the "bad goldenrod, but claims part of the east meadow.








Frost Aster (Symphyotrichon ericoides) in the west meadow



White Snakeroot (Ageratina aromatica‘Jocius’ Variegate’), waving grasses and liatris fruit in the west meadow



Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) sparkling in the east meadow



American Smoketree (Cotinus obovatus) fall foliage with Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii): the east meadow and distant view



Dirr calls American Smoketree one of the best trees for autumn foliage color.



Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriacus) silky fruit in the west meadow. The fragrance of the flowers in early summer can drift up the hillside into the fenced garden, puzzling visitors-- or even forgetful gardeners.



The west meadow, fenced garden and distant view



Downy Sunflower (Helianthus mollis) fruit with Redosier Dogwood (Cornus sericea ‘Cardinal’) stems in the east meadow



Visitors in the west meadow






Early snow on the west meadow and fenced garden gate, distant view



Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa) fruit, with snow at sunrise



Deer and Redosier Dogwood (Cornus sericea ‘Cardinal) stems in the east meadow.  Nearly everyone who gardens as much as we do around here ends up fencing out the deer, or trying to. We early on realized that we were too poor or too cheap to fence the place, but also that fencing would just be wrong for the feeling of knitting into the surrounding landscape (even if the surroundings and our garden might be somewhat denuded.)




When we did take on some more plants-in-beds bits of gardening, we were interested in how to manage the transitions from meadow to garden beds. Just as we’d first thought of the transition from the surrounding landscape to the meadow, we wanted it not to be too abrupt. This is how we justify the beds not being too tidy! But also—the meadow is a sort of tapestry, or warp and weft— of grasses and showier flowering plants, with a lot of the distribution dispersed or seemingly random, and that translates to the way we plant our beds. We didn’t take this gentle transition idea too literally— our planting beds don’t have a lot of ornamental grasses— I guess what we ended up with was just a much looser way of planting than most perennial gardening.

We have consciously tried to retain that warp-and weft feeling (we’ll look at some of the ways), and we’ve found a range of self-sowing plants, both annual and perennial, to work well in this loose scheme, or scheme of looseness, or— I’m sure in the view of visitors too polite to say so, just rationalized messiness.



The fenced garden is pretty thoroughly planned, but self-sowing annuals like these Shirley poppies (Papaver rhoeas) loosen things up joyfully; they find their own openings in the plan.



Verbena bonariensis sows itself, waiting for warm weather to sprout and coming into bloom in late summer. Here it's with Indigofera 'Little Pinkie'.



A David Lebe fine art image, one of his earliest completed digital photographs, with blue Love-in-a-Mist (Nigella damascena) and a chartreuse nicotiana-- Nancy Ondra's N. 'Green Mix'-- in the fenced garden.



Later our self-sowing nicotianas became mixed with the changeable pink and white species Nicotiana mutablis, and the color range has widened to include plants like this one.






A short-lived but freely self-sowing perennial spurge, Euphorbia oblongifolia, in the driveway bed




Strictly biennial Woolly Foxglove, volunteering in the gravel of the circle terrace



We have long grown Brown Eyed Susans (Rudbeckia triloba). It's a usually short-lived but self-sowing perennial. Here in the fenced garden we've added the recent cultivar Rudbeckia triloba ‘Prairie Glow', a seed strain in a range of gorgeous coppery and reddish colors.



Here's the typical species Brown Eyed Susan (Rudbeckia triloba), with Donkey Tail Spurge (Euphorbia myrsinites), both self-sown in a gravel path that used to be too wide-- no longer so!



Common Mullein (Verbascum thapsus) first year rosette in a gravel path


 

 We reflect the meadow scheme with a carpet of self-sowing plants In this big planting bed, we have a largely self-sown backdrop of Euphobia epithymoides, a spring flowering spurge), the carpet broken up by other plants rising through it.



The taller, orange Griffith’s Spurge (Euphorbia griffithii ‘Fireglow’) rises through chartreuse-bracted Cushion Spurge (Euphorbia epithymoides).



Narcissus ‘Oykel’ and Cushion Spurge (Euphobia epithymoides)



Great Burnet (Sanguisorba officianalis ‘Chocolate Tip’) and Cushion Spurge (Euphorbia epithymoides) fruit



Yellow Coreopsis ‘Full Moon’,  cream, self-sowing Scabiosa ochroleuca, very freely self-sowing, pink Nodding Onion (Allium cernuum)



Hollyhock Mallow (Malva alcea var.fastigiata) rising  through Coreopsis 'Full Moon' and Scabiosa ochroleuca



The same big island bed, with statuesque Korean Angelica (Angelica gigas), Scabiosa ochroleuca, Euporbia griffithii ‘Fireglow’, and fulminating magenta Lobelia ‘Sparkle Divine’ in late summer. The scabiosa is loose enough not to shade out the underlying Cushion Spurge (Euphorbia epithymoides).



Brilliantly true blue Salvia azurea ‘Nekan’ and Aromatic Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium ‘October Skies’),  still with Scabiosa ochroleuca



Both Coreopsis ‘Full Moon’ and Scabiosa ochroleuca bloom far into fall, here with Hydrangea paniculata ‘Pink Diamond’, Amelanchier arborea autumn foliage, Salvia azurea ‘Nekan’, Aromatic Aster, Symphyotrichum oblongifolium ‘October Skies’…




We’ve already broached the idea of transitions. I want to do some more with that, looking at crossing or blurring boundaries (this is not a garden of sharp edges!)— first we’ll look at boundary blurring within the garden— and then between indoors and outdoors.



False sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides) planted in the west meadow, has volunteered across the fence into the former vegetable garden. Plants often travel back and forth between the meadow and garden beds.



Euphobia seguieriana var. niciciana in gravel next to the garage, and having spread across the gravel path into the adjoining meadow



Thalictrum kiusianum in a planting pocket, breaking up paving in the fenced garden



Do you find this tuffet of Hosta ‘Gemstone’ under a chair in the fenced garden as funny as I do?



Some summers it's been a little hard to get to the furniture: Nicotiana sp. (offspring of ’N. Nancy Ondra’s ‘Green Mix’ and N. mutabilis) and Verbena bonariensis in paving crevices in the fenced garden



Oxeye daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare) in driveway gravel adjoining the driveway planting bed with its mulleins and poppies



Rabbit-foot Clover (Trifolium arvense) in the same area of driveway gravel adjoining the driveway bed-- we're looking across the stone edging into the driveway.



Frost Aster (Symphyotrichum ericoides) and first-year foliage of mulleins (Verbascum spp.) in the driveway, next to the driveway bed



Aromatic Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolius) in the driveway gravel



Yellow Star-grass (Hypoxis hirsuta) in a gravel path adjoining driveway bed. This little local native would be swamped among bigger things in the planting bed. We first found it growing in (unpaved) May Hill Road-- the species seems to dare traffic, in cars or on foot.



Echinacea sp. (hybrid offspring of E. tennesseensis and E. purpurea) -- these have traveled by seed from a garden bed into the gravel of the circle terrace.



Impatiens balfourii growing through a grate in a front deck step



Clematis ladakhiana trailing through potted geraniums on the back deck



Epilobium canum ‘Orange Carpet’ (syn Zauschneria garrettii ‘Orange Carpet’) and the silver foliage of Mouse-ear Hawkweed (Pilosella officinarum) softening  the east steps



Mullein (Verbascum sp.) first year foliage in the gravel east steps landing



Looking across east steps garden bed into the east meadow, with yellow Gray Coneflower (Ratibida pinnata) in both



We have two main transitional indoor/outdoor spaces: a screened porch (tucked within the basic footprint of the house) and a second story back deck off the kitchen and living room.



The big island bed and Hydrangea paniculata ‘Pink Diamond’ with view through the screened porch



Inside the screened porch, looking toward the circle terrace






The second story back deck with Trumpetvine (Campsis radicans) on its arbor



Clematis ladakhiana in fruit on the back deck arbor









Cuphea cyanea and Impatiens namchabarwensis on a back deck table




We have always liked to grow hummingbird flowers on the back deck. This is Cuphea cyanea.



Some visitors are more startling, perhaps less welcome. We have only had a bear on the deck twice-- roving adolescents come after bird seed.



Dark-eyed junco on the back deck table



Windows can bring the outside in. We came here from a city (in dark days); we wanted a lot of light, a lot of windows.



Living room window view of the west meadow



Study window view of alliums (Mark MacDonough thinks this a hybrid between Allium senescens ssp. montanum and A. nutans) and the west meadow with False Sunflower (Heliopsis helianthoides)



Study window view of mullein hybrid (Verbascum sp.)



Basement plant room window view with Culver’s Root (Veronicastrum virginicum)



A kitchen window view with Paphiopedilum niveum, Cryptanthus ‘Chocolate Soldier’, Cuphea cyanea, Trumpetvine (Campsis radicans) foliage, hills and valley views. The orchid moved with us from Philadelphia. We got a good one-- this species is supposed to be a little hard to grow, but our plant blooms better than our other slipper orchids.



Living room window with Colchicum ‘Jochem Hof’ bouquet



Bedroom window view of east steps, east meadow, hills and valley



Studio window view of the west meadow and the fenced garden




We’re not flower-arrangers, but we are, you’ve begun to see, plant people, and we enjoy bringing small bouquets indoors. It’s a chance for a really close look.




Snowdrops (Galanthus ’S. Arnott’). This is a terrific snowdrop, possibly our favorite.



Clematis (Clematis ‘Perle d’Azur and C. unnamed Viticella Group seedling)



Marigolds (Tagetes ‘Villandry’). It's a French marigold with stems long enough for picking, and for a graceful plant.



Colchicum byzantinum (The broader-tepalled flowers might likely be Colchcum 'Autumn Herald').



Gentians (Gentiana ‘True Blue’)



Colchicum speciosum ‘Album’




Stonework and gravel are the materials that give form, function and structure to much of this place— walls, paths, the entry courtyard, the gravel driveway.

We are lucky to have a lot of old stone walls, maybe special ones, on our place. The walls resemble what we’re all used to thinking of as old farm-field boundary walls, but they don’t really fit that pattern— they don’t form grids, they wave around, occasionally they just peter out; there’s what seems to be an observation bench built in to the wall up near the top of May Hill, facing the winter solstice sunrise over Phudd Hill. There’s a notion in the neighborhood that these are old Indian walls, an idea perhaps supported by a book on Native American stone structures in New England (James Mavor’s Manitou). We came to think of these walls as a kind of Native American sacred landscape architecture; we cherish them. Our new walls are of similar scale and closely matched stone— they’re a chief feature of the garden. We wanted the new walls to look like the old ones— that was a challenge to stonemasons— they tended to want their work to be strong and tight and regular.



The wall in the background, behind the bit of broomsedge meadow, is one of the old ones; the front, retaining wall is one we had built, along with the paving stones that separate the gravel entry courtyard from the driveway (preventing the two kinds of gravel from mixing).



The same old wall in the background, with newer ones parallel and perpendicular










The entry courtyard with stone basin, Heptacodium miconioides, Sweet Autumn Clematis (Clematis ternata) and Hydrangea paniculata ‘Pink Diamond’ beyond



Narcisssus ‘Monal’, Heptacodium miconiodes trunks, with exfoliating bark



The entry courtyard in late summer. The jungle tends to close in, but rock and gravel still predominate.



The entry courtyard in early summer with Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa). Originally the courtyard was almost only rock and gravel. Planting pockets and volunteer seedlings creep in, insidious threats to the originally austere aesthetic-- and to foot traffic.



The stone for the garage was chosen to let it knit into the old walls, which meet the garage near its back. This is an early morning view to the garage with Euphorbia corollata, Impatiens balfourii, and Clematis ‘Roguchi’.



Our place has almost no turf-- practically all the open spaces for walking or gathering are in gravel. Here I am holding forth to the Scott Arboretum Gardens of the Hudson Valley tour, June 2015.








Apart from the garage, our biggest stonework project is this circular terrace. The terrace replaced an oval clay-lined pond (that had taken to leaking at a rate that was almost the entire capacity of our well); the terrace fits in so that the earlier shrub plantings could remain in place (even if the winterberry hollies miss their pondside moisture.



Circle terrace pool with Iris laevigata ‘Variegata’ and Papaver atlanticum 'Flore Pleno’



Iris laevigata ‘Variegata’



Circle terrace planting: Iris ‘Mr. Peacock’, Paeonia ‘Alabaster Pearl’, Rosa ‘Corylus’, Rosa ‘ Louis Riel’



The shrub roses support slightly later blooming clematis: Clematis ‘Margot Koster’ on Rosa ‘Corylus’ and lavender-blue C. ‘Betty Corning’ on Rosa ‘Louis Riel’.



Clematis ‘Betty Corning’ close



Clematis 'Margot Koster' close



Rosa 'Corylus', a hybrid between a rugosa rose and the Shining Rose (Rosa nitida) blooms only in June, but has good late summer fruit, and its thorny young shoots are attractively golden-brown in winter.



Stepping around the corner from the circle terrace-- to a view across Rosa ‘Doorenbos Selection’ in the big island bed and a look at a recent stone bench






Back to the circle terrace, in July, with Gray Coneflower (Ratibida pinnata), Hydrangea paniculata ‘Pink Diamond’, Scabiosa ochroleuca, Culver’s Root (Veronicastrum virginicum) and Himalayan Indigo (Indigofera heterantha)



The circle terrace in July, with Shadblow (Amelanchier arborea) foliage, Hydrangea paniculata ‘Pink Diamond’, Scabiosa ochroleuca and Winterberry fruit (Ilex verticillata ‘Winter Red’)



Silky Clematis ladakhiana fruit garlanding the terrace stonework in October, with Aromatic Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium ‘October Skies’)



Looking across the curves of the circle terrace to the echoing dome of Phudd Hill, with Iris laevigata 'Variegata' foliage, Winterberry fruit (Ilex verticillata ‘Winter Red’)



November 1, 2015: Aromatic Aster(Symphyotrichum oblongifolium ‘Fannie’s Aster’), Winterberry fruit (Ilex verticillata ‘Winter Red’)



Later in November, with Winterberry fruit (Ilex verticillata ‘Winter Red’); behind that are Flame Willow's (Salix ‘Flame’) orange stems.






Fox after a winter nap








Snowdrops (Galanthus woronowii) at the top of the east steps



Narcissus ‘Golden Echo’ (Amelanchier arborea and other daffodils in the background). We were fortunate that our stone guy found stone bars with a blend of brown and gray that works well with the native shale of the walls. We used them to replace failing locust log steps— those did last us twenty years— and for some other projects as well.



Narcissus ‘Lemon Honey’ with Tanacetum ‘Isla Gold’ foliage



Narcissus ‘Irish Linen’



Looking down the steps in early morning: Iris pallida with spider silk



A hummingbird feeds from its favored Nectaroscordum siculum, with Papaver atlanticum and Allium nigrum.



You can just make out a wren on the wrenhouse; white Culver’s Root (Veronicastrum virginicum), orange Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa), chartreuse Euphorbia seguieriana var. niciciana, cream Scabiosa ochroleuca.



So unlike the ratty summer leaves of most bearded irises, Iris pallida foliage stays good through the whole growing season; here it is a foil for Coreopsis ‘Cosmic Eye’, Agastache ‘Kudos Mandarin’ and Allium carinatum subsp. pulchellum album.



Allium carinatum subsp. pulchellum album



Culver’s Root (Veronicastrum virginicum), magenta Himalayan Indigo (Indigofera heterantha), Gray Coneflower (Ratibida pinnata), Scabiosa ochroleuca, Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii)



David with Early Goldenrod (Solidago juncea) and Rosa 'Corylus' fruit



Locally native Early Goldenrod (Solidago juncea) is a favorite-- glossy leaves, basal foliage pushing out graceful stems, and it inflorescences even better in lasting chartreuse bud than in bloom.



Around the corner again to the big island bed to look at another favorite goldenrod, shade-loving Wreath Goldenrod (Solidago caesia)



At the top of the east steps, Colchicum byzantinum erupts from a carpet of Sedum spurium ‘John Creech’. Colchicums have their ephemeral foliage in the spring; blooming naked in late summer and fall, they are best complemented by low underplanting.



Early morning asters: Blue Wood Aster (and Arrow-leaved Aster) (now that taxonomists have merged the two former species both are Symphyotrichum cordifolium), Calico Aster (Symphyotrichum  laterifolium); Salvia azurea ‘Nekan’



The corresponding steps on the west side of the house pass through the west meadow, rising from a small gravel terrace to the driveway above.



Agastache ‘Acapulco Orange’ in a terrace container (with Bergamot, Monarda fistulosa); looking toward the fenced garden gate



Purple Coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea) in the meadow



The top of the steps, as they pass through a bit of wall



The terrace at the foot of the west steps, west meadow, hills and valley view



The driveway— graveled— must be our largest open space, bordering both meadow and garden areas.



Newly installed driveway curbing (we used the same stone bars as for the steps), folly birdhouses, fenced garden with daffodils-- and photographer's silhouette



The driveway bed separating the driveway from the entry courtyard, with Snowdrops (Galanthus ‘Atkinsii’); Cornus ‘Midwinter Fire’ and Flame Willow (Salix ‘Flame’)



Scott Arboretum Gardens of the Hudson Valley tour on the freshly renovated driveway, here impersonating a highway scenic overlook.



That turning or parking area in better weather: Allium ‘Purple Sensation’ with the yellow foliage of Spiraea thunbergii ‘Ogon’



Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa) and Nettle-leaved Mullein (Verbascum chaixii) in the gravel of the entry courtyard. Tall, branching mulleins in the driveway bed behind are hybrids between that species and Common Mullein (Verbascum thapsus).



The driveway bed (between driveway and entry courtyard) with Common Mullein (Verbascum thapsus), Nettle-leaved Mullein (Verbascum chaixii) and tall, volunteer hybrids between them; Straw Foxglove (Digitalis lutea); Tradescantia ‘Concord Grape’ (and offspring); Snow Daisy (Tanacetum niveum); a young dwarf Smoketree (Cotinus coggygria ‘Young Lady’) and Papaver somniferum; with Oxeye Daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare) in the gravel of the driveway



Straw Foxglove (Digitalis lutea) with the yellow foliage of  Spiraea thunbergii ‘Ogon’



Clematis ‘Roguchi’



This mullein hybrid is still blooming at its tall wavy tips— in mid-September.



A short, pink cultivar of Aromatic Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium ‘Dream of Beauty’)



Narcissus ‘Olive Branch’



Epimedium ‘Amber Queen’, a superb recent epimedium hybrid, its extraordinary amber-yellow flower color  contrasting with the true blues of Lungworts and Virginia Bluebells.



We planted a little collection of Sweetshrubs, calycanthus species and hybrids, here along the drive. Their aromatic twigs, leaves and flowers do seem to deter deer browsing. The best of these Sweetshrubs so far is this, Calycanthus 'Aprhodite'.



Doll’s Eyes (Actea pachypoda) fruit



Driveway, folly birdhouses and the west meadow with snow







Terry Degeyter, our main man for stonework, with his helper, Dan, moving stone for a wall



Jack, suited up for weeding by the circle terrace. Our garden and meadow are so authentically prairie that we have something very like chiggers-- as well as more usual, disease-bearing ticks.




I hope to show both Asian and 20th century modernist strains in our landscape. The two strains are related, of course: Asian (and later, African) influences were strongly at work in the beginnings of modern art.  I won’t claim that we scale any peaks of high modernism here — ours is, perhaps, a low or— rustic— modernism. But we do have simplified, abstracted or unexpected forms, and asymmetric balance, together with venturesome drawing-on-the-ground, and— occasionally— a spirit of free play that I can claim harks to Paul Klee or Alexander Calder or— right at home— to some of the photography of David Lebe— particularly his photograms.



The house is Rustic/Modern/farmhouse/barn, with Asian spirit and detail.



The second story back deck arbor conjures a Chinese gate, partly through the upsweeping ends of its cross members. That motif is repeated around the place.



The angled roof ears of the main body of the house echo that motif.



Another view of a roof ear (with gable vent trim suggesting a barn loft)



The quirkiest assymetry of the house may be its gabled entry, twisted to orient and guide those arriving.






This very old Chinese stone basin (we got it from Philadelphia) seems at home in this composition. 

Our entry courtyard, with its clear gravel and arrangements of flat stones, has clear links to Japanese raked gravel gardens— I think you’ve all seen somewhat similar  Zen or temple courtyard gardens.



The arbor gateway out of the terrace is twisted, echoing the entryway to the house; and, though not easy to see in this first photo, the arbor's cross members are angled up at the ends.



Entry courtyard: stone and gravel-- and you can see one upswept crosspiece on the gateway arbor.



The rock composition is clarified by snow.



The twist in the arbor gateway helps move the eye along the curving wall and path beyond.



The twisted, three-legged arbor seen from the east.



The arbor stark in spring, before the clematis it hosts reclothes it. (Amsonia tabernaemonta breaks through and softens the boundary wall of the courtyard.)


This is where we’ve had, with help from our stone guys, the best time drawing on the ground. We were trying to solve a twenty-year old problem— all these paths needing to meet from odd angles at the foot of the steps.



We ended up with this broadened, abstractly formed open space. A little openness is good here— it gives respite from the enclosing meadow. (The meadow is high, on the east side of the house, with tallgrass prairie grasses).



East steps landing, raw and newly built, showing the path juncture


East steps landing settlling in, with Common Mullein (Verbascum thapsus)



This strongly geometric piece of stone building, off the northeast corner of the house, as I said, replaced a badly leaking, originally clay-lined, oval pond. The quite exact circle contains two steps down from the paths by the house (so that the wall is partly retaining and partly free-standing), with a level stone lintel for exit at the opposite side, and a wooden bench facing the dome of Phudd Hill. I think If there’s one place we’ve managed to evoke the spirit of the place, or to recreate a sacred landscape architecture in the way of the ancient stone walls-- well, this is the spot.









Newly laid coping for the circle terrace pool, its abstracted petal forms stark against muddy fresh gravel






The west steps terrace, with orange posts (brashly supporting a bit of house extension), and mulleins


The arbor gateway to the fenced garden has a pared-down modernist feeling— it’s a sort of idealized gable form and reflects the west house gable end that faces it— just out of this view.



The statuary play of the folly birdhouses


Here’s a more serene and serious image. A traditional Japanese house or teahouse includes a raised niche called a tokonoma for displaying cut flowers, poetry, or ceramics or other art. You see that we adopted and adapted that idea— the photograph of Russian comphrey (Symphytum causcasicum) of course is David’s. The celadon vase is mine, from an early life as a ceramist. The coralberries are Symphoricarpus ‘Amethyst’ from the garden.


These are Allium pulchellum ‘Album’ from the garden, but I  the image evokes the dancing brushstrokes of Chinese or Japanese calligraphy.


Here we have spring red maple seen against white pine needles, and the photograph could almost be a Japanese woodblock print.




Enough, for the moment, of Art and Ideas. The fenced garden, which began as a vegetable garden, is a place for plants. The deer can’t get in— it’s where we can indulge ourselves as gardeners.



Daffodils in the fenced garden. We grow over a hundred kinds of daffodils, but I won't show each one!



Narcissus 'Berceuse' is in the foreground, along with another playful statuary element-- upside-down tomato cages with grapevine finials, supports for non-climbing clematis.



Narcissus 'Ethereal Beauty', aptly named



Narcissus ‘Fragrant Rose’



A varied daffodil bouquet picked from the fenced garden (Narcissus ‘Premiere’, N. ‘Royal Princess’, N. ‘Lyrebird’, N. ‘Pink Evening’, N. ‘Johnny Walker’, N. ‘Dactyl’)



Iris ‘Summer Revels’, Clematis ‘Gazelle’, Iris ‘Careless Sally’, Paeonia ‘Fortune Teller’








Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas) and early daylilies (Hemerocallis ‘Corky’)



Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas), Nettle-leaved Mullein (Verbascum chaixii) and Clematis ‘Gazelle



Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas) and Geum ‘Totally Tangerine’




Yarrow (Achillea sp.), Shirely Poppies (Papaver rhoeas) and Nettle-leaved Mullein (Verbascum chaixii)


Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas) and Geranium ‘Azure Rush’



Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas), Allium christophii fruit and fallen mullein flowers



Three poppies:  Leaning into two annual Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas) is perennial orange Papaver atlanticum.



Indian Pink (Spigelia marylandica) with dark foliage of Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis ‘Black Truffle’ and chartreuse foliage of Tansy (Tanacetum vulgare ‘Isla Gold’). The dark foliage of this recent lobelia cultivar holds well later in the season.



Corydalis elata. This is quite different from the other fabulously blue corydalis species, in that we can easily grow it in our climate.







Clematis ‘Perle d’Azur’, C. ‘Prince Charles'; Nettle-leaved Mullein (Verbascum chaixii) and Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas)


Rosa ‘Sharifa Asma’, Clematis ‘Alionushka’ and Geranium x oxonianum.



I have a particular weakness for clematis with nodding, bell-shaped flowers like C. 'Alionushka.



Clematis ‘Gazelle’ has perkier nodding bells, their white echoed by the more muted tones of Nettle-leaved Mullein (Verbascum chaixii).


Learning to use these upside-down tomato cage supports-- for clematis that won't climb regular supports-- has changed my gardening life. The best performer so far among the non-climbing clematis we've grown has been C. 'Juuli', with flat, blue flowers that face out.



Clematis ‘Pamiat Serdtsa’ and Shirley Poppies (Papaver rhoeas)



The nodding flowers and the lack of climbing equipment of these clematis mostly derive from the species Clematis integrifolia, here in the slightly more compact-growing and particularly blue-flowered seed strain C. integrifolia ‘Lake Baikal’.



Clematis ‘Utsesemi’, a short non-climber from a Japanese breeder who worked largely with American species.



A teddy bear among clematis, C. fusca. (This is a dwarf growing form, but climbing)



Bell shaped clematis flowers can also face upwards, as in this C. 'Princess Diana'. It is probably the brightest truest pink of any clematis. I have seen catalog pictures of this or the similar but lighter pink C. 'Duchess of Albany' oriented so that the flowers seemed to face down-- or the demurely nodding C. 'Etoile Rose' oriented so that its flowers appeared to face up.



Clematis 'Little Bas', a climbing cultivar quite similar to straight species C. viticella. The nodding poise and clear lavender-blue coloring suggest campanulas.



Clemais 'Odoriba', another Japanese hybrid involving American species ancestry. This is a vigorous climber, relatively quick to establish and bloooming from early summer into fall-- at least with some deadheading.



We grew the elegant but perhaps too subtly colored, nodding, Clematis 'Pagoda' climbing on a tripod for years with pleasure, but it really did not show up in the garden-- so we have added the rich violet purple of C. 'Galore', a happy combination.



Clematis 'Sweet Summer Love' is a new plant in town, and in its second year in our garden. It is said to be the first hybrid of the Sweet Autumn Clematis (C. ternata) and has flowers of similar shape and small size, with much less scent-- whatever its ubiquitous catalog descriptions may suggest. The flowers open this rich cranberry color and develop bluer, violet notes as they age, an interesting mix as the older and younger flowers mingle.  I like it enough to have added a second plant elsewhere in the garden!


Daylilies have become the backbone of our summer garden. We grow a few other sorts, but generally we  like our daylilies tall and graceful, with the flowers showing well up above the foliage; we like them late blooming, in late July and August when we need the flowers— then if the foliage goes bad after bloom it’s not so terrible; and we like them with thin-textured or small flowers, so that the spent flowers don’t look awful.




David seems to have turned his back on the large spidery flowers of  Hemerocallis 'Dark Star' (with magenta Geranium 'Ann Thompson' in favor of the refinement of little yellow H. 'Corky'. These are our two early daylilies. (The geranium is similar to the better known G. 'Anne Folkard', but less sprawling, and much less inclined to die here in summer heat or winter cold.)






We do grow a couple of true lilies, despite the scarlet lily beetle. This is the somewhat beetle resistant Lilium 'Dunyazade', with Russian Hollyhock (Alcea rugosa).



Hemerocallis ‘Autumn Minaret’ is an old Arlow Stout cultivar, and our model of a good, late, gracefully tall daylily, long and generous in flower.



Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis ‘Black Truffle’) and Hemerocallis ‘Autumn Minaret’ (with a bit of blue from late, continuing flowers of Clematis 'Juuli')



This is an unnamed seedling daylily that turned up in our garden near H. 'Autumn Minaret' and  orange-flowered H. 'Cottage Garden Gift'. The result is a plant with flowers almost dead ringers for the common roaadside Tawny Daylily (H. fulva), but with the tall, willowy stems we like, and with late season bloom, without the tatty foliage (or running habit) of the Tawny Daylily.



This is another unnamed seedling, and one of our favorite plants, even longer and later flowering and more loosely open in flower form than its likely parents, H. 'Autumn Minaret' and clear yellow H. 'Autumn King'. It has two long-flowering companions, papery white Wild Quinine (Parthenium integrifolium) and blue-white (Succisella inflexa 'Frosted Pearls’)



Hemerocallis ‘Challenger’, another tall, late Arlow Stout cultivar, even taller than H. 'Autumn Minaret'



Annuals Amaranthus ‘Hot Biscuits’ and Browallia americana; the lavender-blue daisies of Kalimeris incisa, Hemerocallis ‘Autumn Minaret’, H. unnamed seedling, H. ‘Peach Mandelynne’, yellow H. ‘Oh Joy! Oh Rapture!’ and orange H. ‘Cottage Garden Gift’— on August 30, 2014



We’ve collected named cultivars of these out-of-the-way plants, pardancandas-- hybrids between what used to be known as belamcanda (the Blackberry Lily], and what used to be Pardanthopsis (the Vesper Iris)— taxonomists have decided that all these plants are irises— which is disorienting, but it does give us some nice August-blooming irises.



Iris x norrisii ‘LSS New Red’



Iris x norrisii ‘Bad Racing Stripes’



The two above have flattish flowers, resembling the Blackbery Lily. Some, including this Iris x norrisii ‘Pink Leopard’, resemble more their Vesper Iris ancestors, having flowers with standards and falls-- so that they begin to look like the irises that they have become.





Colchicum speciosum ‘Album’ and Gentiana ‘True Blue’-- this recent Darrell Probst gentian hybrid is as magically blue as any, but fairly easy to grow.



Our favorite unnamed hemerocallis  seedling— still giving good flowers on October 14 in the warm autumn of 2014.



Anemone x hybrida ‘Andrea Atkinson’ (Japanese Anemone)



Tagetes ‘Villandry’ and Coreopsis ‘Full Moon’. This is no stumpy little French marigold-- it is taller than the neighboring coreopsis, and makes a graceful garden plant.



Fall Snowdrops (Galanthus reginae-olgae)— on November 1, 2015. These bloom later here, and less, than they did in suburban Philadelphia--  they would be more reliable in the Hudson Valley if a little farther south or at lower elevation.



The birches are bending to resemble garden fountains after an early snow and ice storm.



Here’s where we wrap things up with a few images that might show, again, that the garden respects its site, holds some plants we can’t do without, and plays nicely with its borrowed scenery.


It all comes back to the meadow and the former vegetable garden, with a little stonework and the valley and hills beyond.




















Of course it’s easiest to blend in to the surrounding woodland with a dusting of snow.

That’s it. I want to thank my partner in the garden and in life, David Lebe, for all the best photographs, for much of the structure of the garden, for the joy of sharing this garden, and much else.

I hope there’s still time to hear what you folks think and to take questions. Thank you.



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