Monday, June 14, 2021

how does your garden grow?

A friend of ours has been volunteering at Olbrich Gardens for a number of years now. Do you know the place? It's Madison's extensive (sixteen acre) botanical space. And it is evolving. I hear these days it's less flashy and exotic, more local and sustainable. I haven't been there for a couple of years (no surprise: I haven't done anything for a couple of years), so when the friend invited us for a tour of the place, we jumped.

It's a remarkably pleasant day: not too hot, still sunny unfortunately, but there is a breeze and so outdoor activities are, dare I say it -- pleasurable! 

(On my morning walk, I have a close encounter with the Virginia Ctenuch -- a black moth, with an orange head and a metallic blue-green body -- that loves the Phlox as much as I do!)




(Also on my morning walk: I note the expanding sweet pea...)


(Phlox is a color rock star in the garden, even in its June green stage)


 

And we have breakfast once again on the porch.




Afterwards, we're off to see the gardens.

I'm curious about a lot of things: the overlap in plantings between Olbrich and the farmette flower fields. About their approach to watering in this period of droughts. And I'm interested in how they maintain an eye-catching perennial bed in mid June, when summer flowers are not yet blooming even as the spring ones have faded. Mostly though, I'm interested in how a bunch of talented gardeners tackle the project of creating beautiful pathways through shady and sunny outdoor spaces.

Every garden has favorite corners in it. Places in which you feel happiest, secure, at peace. And I certainly found those in Olbrich. 




I also looked with envy at what can be accomplished with many many pairs of hands (they have quite a staff of both horticulturalists and helpers). 

(shady paths...)



(sunny paths)



And with water. I do like gardens that incorporate water into their design. 




Mostly though I was surprised at our overlap. Nearly everything that I grow here can be found there (though not everything that they grow there can be found here). Yes, the proportions are very different. They have lilies, but I have more! I have ferns, clematis vines, and poppies, but they have more! But I couldn't help recognizing the overlap.

And the breeze rustled leaves and cooled our walk and it was such a pleasant way to spend a morning.

We ended with a lunch together. At a cafe! Outside, but still, it was a first for me since the pandemic shut down eating out for us.




We lingered as only retired people enjoying a sunny June day can linger.

And the flowers stayed in my head and the summer seemed promising; a day well spent.

(driving home: hello cranes...)


 

 

In the afternoon, I once again returned to a more typical pandemic social exchange -- with my friends on Zoom.

I'm not tired of that -- not at all! It's only bothersome when there is nothing else and you wish there was someone every now and then sitting across the table from where you are.

And so ends a day of not gardening, but garden gazing. You need those to maintain your own enthusiasm for what you're doing in your own back yard. I had a lovely fill today. Tomorrow, I return to my own weeds, watering needs, and planting adventures. 

(Evening walk across farmette lands: through the newly planted "forest")


(Evening walk, continued: looking north -- a school, plots for new houses, two sandhills and lots of birds)




(Evening walk, continued: this is what our meadow looks like)




(Evening walk, continued: the delphinium is starting to bloom)



And still later, as the sun nearly disappeared for the day, I took out the scooter and guided it along the rural roads just eat of the farmette. As usual, I had a companion.

 



For a while we just look at each other, but eventually it goes to the west and I go to the east. 




And the sun sets and the day is done.