In mid-May, when the days are warm, the air is fragrant, and the phlox subulata (above) is in bloom, I like to spend a little quality-time outdoors. Would you like to see what's shaking in the gardens here? Join me.
Now, because it’s such a sparkling day, I think we should sip a little something during our walk.
I hope you like Prosecco.
Check out the cork. Obviously this is a very cheerful brand of Prosecco.
Cheers!
Now click your heels three times, and...
SWOOSH! We are standing in the front yard. As you can see, the lawn has greened up, and the trees are leafing out. The house, in case you're wondering, was built in 1826. Click here for an inside view.
Behind the house is the boxwood garden. Would you believe this plot was an asphalt parking lot when we purchased the property? I dug up the black top and designed a boxwood garden there in just a few short hours!
Okay, I'm kidding. The job took several months to complete.
Want to acquire lots of boxwood without breaking the bank? Then do what I did, and propagate the shrub from simple stem cuttings. Click here for details.
Roses, planted in the boxwood-edged beds, are just beginning to leaf out. Hopefully they'll bloom in time for the first Garden Conservancy "Open Day" here (click for details).
Probably the roses will refuse to bloom. They are vengeful plants.
More Processco for you?
At the north end of the boxwood garden, and growing through a bed of pachysandra, are some almost-finished 'Purple Flag' tulips and one enormous Dicentra spectabilis.
Unlike roses, Dicentra takes life in stride. I love the jewel-like flowers that give the plant its common name: "Bleeding Hearts."
Continuing north, we encounter a gentle path that leads to a trio of white pines. Shall we ascend the steps? Try not to spill your Prosecco.
The view through the pines. Let's head west, towards the urns and statue.
Oh. If you look to the left, you'll have a bird's-eye view of the boxwood garden.
And if you look to the right, you'll see some monster-size arborvitae. These evergreens were only 5 feet tall when I planted them about 10 years ago. Today, their stature exceeds 15 feet.
Behind the arborvitae is the hemlock-edged pool garden. As you can see, the life guards are on duty now.
Say "hello" to this lecherous Satyr...
And this scantilly-clad "Summer"...
And the industrious (and scantilly-clad) Ms. Autumn. I've yet to find a statue that represents Winter. I'm not sure than one even exists.
To the left of the pool is the Kitchen Garden. There isn't much to see here, because most of the beds have not been planted yet. And yes, some of the beds are in need of minor repair. So let's skip this garden until a later date, okay?
Between the pool and kitchen gardens is the Woodland Garden. The entrance is marked by an old, rusty arbor.
At the foot the arbor are some delightful blue "forget-me-nots." Fortunately, these winter-sown plants are immune to deer and rabbits.
And speaking of deer -- they've been eating my hostas even before the leaves open. They've also eaten some of my "deer-proof" woodland plants, including Brunnera 'Jack Frost.' Or maybe the resident rabbits and woodchucks are to blame.
What's that you say?
Why don't I purchase a rifle and shoot the deer, rabbits, and woodchucks?
Well, you're not the first visitor to suggest such a tactic. But I'm a pacifist when it comes to woodland creatures. To me, plants are not "precious." They're just...plants.
Back to the woodland subjects:
Shake hands with these ferns...
And these almost-finished Virginia Bluebells...
And this trio of Jacob's Ladder (Polemonium pulcherrimum) that is just now opening its dazzing blue stars.
Also in bloom is this patch of Sweet Woodruff, which I may or may not turn into "May Wine"...
And this Solomon's Seal, which goes by the rather unfortunate botanical name Polygonatum cyrtonema. I love the plant's variegated foliage, and its dangling white bells that appear in May.
Here's a terrible photograph of the woodland's small, informal pond...
That always attracts small, informal frogs.
I think we should exit the Woodland now. The Serpentine Garden awaits! I designed this winding oasis on the site of a very steep hill. Click here to read the garden's scandalous back-story.
Spilling blue and pink over the Serpentine's field-stone walls in May is Phlox subulata. I do nothing whatsoever for the plants.
Here's our view from the other direction.
Well. You're probably tired by now. So let's refill our champagne flutes, and sit on a bench in the Serpentine. Besides, I'd like to hear about your own planted place. What's blooming for you?
Love kitchens and gardens? Get my email updates.
And if you're hungry, check out these seasonal recipes:
Linguine with Ramps and Asiago
Glazed Rhubarb Galette
Poached Salmon and Veggies
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