Sometimes you should just go with LAZY! Yesterday was a very full day spent at the 2009 Spring Symposium put on by the Northwest Horticultural Society – The New Gardening Approach: Great Design for Sustainability, Habitat and Biodiversity.
Four speakers gave in-depth presentations on the impact of our gardens on the world at large. We tend to think our gardens stop at the fence or hedge line but one speaker, Kate Frey, introduced the notion that in fact, migratory birds and insects and water resources push that boundary way beyond our little white pickets. Robert Herman discussed grouping plants by habitat and placing plants in their ideal growing conditions. Mr. Herman has spent a great deal of time working in the nursery industry in Germany; it was fascinating to hear of posters and educational programs that provide plant origin as being a routine part of plant labeling programs and promotions. In America we’re more likely to see “constant bloom,” “endless….fill-in-the-blank,” or “EASY” on our plant labels along with the usual circus talk about color(!) and fragrance (!). I think the notion that plants began in a natural environment and not some laboratory has lost some, uh, ground in recent years.
John Greenlee spoke passionately about creating naturalistic grassland ecologies and “meadows by design, ” and Dan Pearson ended the day with a plea for creating “emotional landscapes” that prompt an almost visceral response. Surely the flip flop my heart did at his slide of an early spring hazel wood swamped by a flood of bluebells was a beautiful example of his thesis. That was my take away for a day spent indoors watching slides when outdoors the sun shone brightly (wouldn’t you just KNOW it!!!) and I resolved to make my gardens read less fussy and perform with more strength; seasonal events like dozens of alliums, carpets of Ranunculus or flowering grasses that bloom and ebb with the season to make way for the next garden highlight. Plantings that will move my heart and make me notice and appreciate that unique moment in the year. (Read more about the speakers here.)
The day ended with a lovely potluck dinner at the Dunn Garden hosted by the NHS board. With lengthening days, the sun was still lingering long enough for a meandering stroll throughout this amazing woodland garden. From sheets of crocus blooming in the lush green lawn to dozens and dozen of planting vignettes with snowdrops, anemone blanda, early daffodils and gorgeous blooming hellebores in exquisitely choice selected colors. No, I didn’t even try and take pictures but tried to put into practice what I had just absorbed that day and simply be there with the beautiful plants and allow myself to be moved. Good food, wine and friends made for a delightful gathering. Now that I don’t have the nursery it’s not often I get to give completely in to my inner plant geek and revel with fellow nerds. Lovely – exhausting but lovely.
Today I vowed to take things easy…lie about, read, nap and generally be lazy. The rain was back and really, hadn’t I had my day of (intellectual) productivity already? But seed packets implored me to plant them and after yesterday’s lecture I’ve set my eyes (heart?) on a new curving hedge-like row of ‘Karl Foerster’ feather reed grass where the poor dead phormium once loomed. The southern sun will catch their strongly vertical upright flowering stems and hopefully create a definite but soft, graceful line in a landscape of mostly woody shrubs and trees.
Not lazy, see? Good fresh air, garden good karma? NOT!
A nasty stumble off a step with a tarp-load of debris found me crumpled and gasping in a heap on the front walk. It was a classic case of “help, help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” My healthy strong kids were sensibly having a good lazy day and dozing upstairs; my husband was off on some work-related chore (he, too, has issues with having a lazy day.) It can’t have been pretty watching me crawl up the steps to the front door and holler for help. Covered in mud (raining, remember?) my loving but sorry household gathered around and starred at one another. Finally, someone helped me to the sofa, mud everywhere, got me an ice pack for my now-swelling ankle and a cool towel for my clammy head, summoned the husband back home and generally fussed over me. I’ve spent a very quiet day with me foot elevated and wrapped. Yes I got my nap but it was less satisfying for having an ice pack strapped to my leg.
Now that I’ve had a good self-pitying whine…it still hurts.
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m so sorry to hear you took a tumble. Gardening really is a risky sport! I hope your family is pampering you and that you get well soon.
Oh no! This post was so relaxing and inspiring and flowy, and then.. your poor ankle! Talk about a final twist (sorry, shouldn’t joke). I like the ideas in the presentation you heard – not always easy to figure out how to put those concepts into action. Maybe you just know it when you see it and just keep trying until you feel like it’s right. Hope you heal really quickly!
Thanks for the kind words. This morning I’m feeling fairly spry! A little hitch in my get along but remarkably less lame than I anticipated!!! I may not be jumping on shovels any time soon, but I’m grateful for strong bones and resiliency.
Oh dear, as long as you’re all better by next Tuesday when we hit the road for Yakima, right?
But I love your essay about the NHS symposium and the time spent in good plant company. Remember what a big crush LP had on Dan Pearson?!