Plant Swap

A section of a blood banana leaf

Back in my grandmother's day, gardeners regularly traded cuttings, seeds, and seedlings with friends and neighbors. Nowadays, people often buy their bedding plants and shrubs at local nurseries or from big box stores. They hire landscaping firms to make selections and implement designs. 

Too many 21st century homeowners are missing out. Trading plants is not only fun, but it's a great way to save money and discover new varieties, and even new species, at the same time.

This past Saturday I woke early. After dressing, I hurried out to the garden where I dug up and potted nine plants to take to a plant swap in North Charleston. My contribution consisted of 2 yellow cannas, 1 camellia seedling, 1 avocado, 1 oak leaf hydrangea, 1 bushy marigold, 1 cast iron plant, 1 old-fashioned orange daylily, and 1 plant that escapes my memory. 

Participants arrive at Park Circle between 10 and 11 a.m. and place swap items on a stretch of lawn. After unloading my car, I wandered across the lawn looking at what plants were on offer. I saw plenty of Mexican petunias, but since I already have some of those (from two or three different sources) and they almost never bloom for me, I didn't linger. 

Many participants already stood guard beside their first swap choices. I found a blood banana and fell in love with its gorgeous red and green leaves. Actually, I found two of them, a few yards apart. I stationed myself beside the one that stood upright. The other was lying down. A man, helping other people unload plants, came over to me and said, "Thank you for guarding this for me." He pointed to the blood banana. We both laughed. He wandered off to more carry plants for someone. What a friendly, funny man! When he finished assisting the newcomers, he came back to where I was and said, "Thanks," and moved in as if relieving me at the end of a shift. I stood there awkwardly for maybe fifteen seconds before making my way to the prostrate blood banana.

At 11 a.m. the organizer of the event called out, "Select one plant." After allowing participants time to move chosen plants off the lawn, he announced it was time to pick another plant. Later it was "Okay, now pick two plants." After a second "two plant" selection opportunity, it was "get as many plants as you can carry, because I don't want any left over."

I came home with the blood banana ( Musa acuminata ssp. zebrine),  a badly butchered azalea, a regular banana, 2 red cannas with green leaves, 1 canna with yellow and orange blossoms, 1 ginger stalk, 1 named daylily (Hemerocallis "Strawberry Candy”), 2 or 3 wandering Jew starters (not yet rooted), a tiny Japanese maple (a variety with leaves that look similar to those of a cannabis plant), a camellia seedling in poor condition, a tiny angel trumpet, an orchid cactus, a lily of the valley, a couple of small plants marked “blue flower short,” a tiny and possibly-dead miracle berry, and a flame tree seedpod. 

The reason I received more than I gave was because some folks bring lots and lots of one thing, perhaps focusing more on what they want to get rid of than what someone else might want. Others, I think, are more discriminating in what they choose to take home, looking for specific items, hoping to find something they already knew they wanted. The end result is loads of plants in search of new garden homes. 

When I left, all of my donations to the swap had found takers - all except one, that is. A yellow canna remained, still hoping, I imagine, to get picked. 

Japanese maple

National Public Gardens Day at Magnolia Plantation

Magnolia blossom at Magnolia Plantation

Last Friday, May the 10th, Magnolia Plantation participated in National Public Gardens Day, offering free admission to visitors who printed out a coupon available on-line. I've never seen such a throng of people in Magnolia's gardens, but then I've never before visited during a major event. In times past when I've been there, it's been during the colder months when more camellias are in bloom.

Magnolia Plantation, located on the Ashley River in Charleston, South Carolina, is one of America's oldest gardens. It's reported to be the first home to azaleas in this country. The plantation was established in 1679. During the first half of the nineteenth century, John Grimké Drayton inherited the property and expanded its gardens, enhancing the native landscape.

The deep red flower of a Lord Ferndale ancient camellia japonica

Magnolia Plantation and Gardens includes a small formal garden, a biblical garden, a camellia garden, an oak avenue, a wildlife observation tower, a horticultural maze, and a petting zoo. By paying additional fees, visitors can tour the house, take a boat ride, and visit the Audubon Swamp Garden.

The Red Bridge

What I like best about Magnolia Plantation is the scenic beauty of bridges over small lakes inhabited by native alligators. I enjoy hearing peacocks call and I love seeing the colors, forms, and textures of camellias and azaleas and a variety of other flowering plants.

Irises and Spanish moss

Foxgloves

Azalea blossoms reach toward the sky

Not long after my arrival at Magnolia Plantation on Friday, I located a secluded gazebo in the Romantic Garden. Seated on a bench inside it, sheltered from the hot sun, I gazed out at patches of shasta daisies, their white faces stretching skyward. A few azaleas continued to bloom and one, within reach, had huge blossoms, colored a deep pink. A Japanese maple stood next to the gazebo and a magnolia behind it. Along the path in front of the structure, Spanish moss dangled from branches. Nearby, a pair of cardinals tweeted from a dogwood tree. 

One of several bridges

After enjoying the view from the gazebo, I strolled through the gardens and wandered down the path between the historic rice fields and the Ashley River, remembering the time, well over twenty years ago, when I pushed my niece's stroller down these same paths. 

Was that before or after Hurricane Hugo devastated the area? Probably before. But I recall returning after and how thinned out this and other area gardens appeared during the months and first years that followed the storm. 

Now the growth is lush again. I'm thankful for that and for the offer of free admission that provided the incentive to travel once again to a place I visit far too seldom.

A trio of calla lilies

Visitors stroll through the gardens

Gazebo in the Romantic Garden

For more information about the gardens at Magnolia Plantation, visit:

http://www.magnoliaplantation.com/

April Showers in February

The hellebore I planted last year blooms again. Note the green flowers on the left.

Rain began to fall just as I dug up the last of the visible Florida betony growing beneath the larger of my two plum trees. Hurriedly, I transplanted alyssum seedlings that had sprouted too close together and sprinkled bone meal around tired daffodils. 

In the autumn, before scattering the alyssum seeds, I had dug Florida betony out of this bed and thought I had done a good job of it. Afterwards I put down a layer of clean topsoil.

When I bought my home twenty-one years ago, the only Florida betony on the property grew at the very back of the lot, having crept in from a neighbor's yard. Just two years earlier Hurricane Hugo had blown down hundreds, perhaps thousands, of trees in this mid-century subdivision. Many homeowners brought in truckloads of topsoil to fill in holes created by the removal of uprooted or broken trees. My guess is that the invasive Florida betony arrived hidden in topsoil. Who would have guessed that we'd still be fighting it all these years later. And losing the battle, I might add.

But this blogpost is not meant to be about Florida betony. It's supposed to be about rain. Over the past week we've had a few days of much needed precipitation. While friends in the Northeast shoveled snow, we avoided streets prone to flooding.

In just one day near the end of last week, rain filled my rain barrel. Subsequent rain pouring off the roof was wasted. Even with all this rain, I've found that dirt in the sandier areas of my yard remains dry. Mulched areas retain moisture. One of the projects I've worked on these past months, albeit slowly, has been to add more mulch, compost, and clean topsoil. 

I know how effective mulch can be, so why haven't I gotten more of the stuff down? It's the usual culprits: time, energy, financial resources.

Last year I mulched several shrubs with recycled cedar I'd bought in bags from a big box home improvement store. I know the cedar was recycled because occasionally I'd find cedar chips still bearing blue paint. This year I've used pine bark chips to mulch blueberries and most of the azaleas. Why didn't I think to do this years ago?

For many years, I mulched with pine needles or didn't mulch at all (other than to allow leaf litter to remain, shredded or not). Our local Lowe's no longer delivers bales of pine needles and I tired of buying two or three bales at a time to pack into the relatively small trunk of my car. I also tired of finding pine needles in the trunk for months after transporting even a single bale. Now I think about how much money I wasted buying pine needles when I could have been buying pine bark. But then I remember why I avoided pine bark early on. 

Only four pine trees remained on the property when I bought this place. Previously, there had been many. The prior owner told me he lost forty trees to Hurricane Hugo and the pine bark beetle infestation that followed. Fear of the beetle, I believe, explains my previous hesitancy to mulch with pine bark. 

Now I have no pines. Two died, perhaps from the lingering effects of infestation. Hurricane Floyd snapped another in half. Lightning struck the fourth and last of the tall pines. Afterwards, the arborist told me I was lucky the tree hadn't collapsed on the house - the bottom of the tree had not been solid.

Do I want more tall pines? No. No one who lived in this area when Hurricane Hugo struck wants tall pines within falling distance of a house.

Yes. I'm off topic again.

Rain. Rain on a tin roof - one of the most soothing sounds on earth. As a child I loved being inside my grandparents' house during heavy rain or even during light rain with just the occasional gentle tap on the roof.

Rain falling on a windstorm-damaged roof evokes quite different feelings. Even after repairs have been made to the roof, one finds oneself placing pots and bowls in the attic, along with stretched out plastic shower curtains, to catch the rain and prevent dripping into rooms lying beneath the leaky areas. 

How lovely to have a sound roof!

And how lovely to have a solid front door, made of something other than wood. (Even though I love wood.) The way my house is built, a valley in the roof pours water directly onto the front stoop. Over time gallons of rain splash against the front door. And within a few short years of my moving here the wooden front door rotted. During boom times I had difficulty finding someone to come replace it. Allow me to spare you the details of how in desperation I inadvertently hired a bonafide crook to replace the door.

One night earlier this week after taking a long soak in the bathtub, while reading a good book and listening to the patter of rain outside, I went a little crazy. In a good way. I fired up my laptop and selected items from three different plant nurseries on-line. Ultimately, I restrained myself and ordered from only one. A month from now I expect to receive lily of the valley, red coral bells, bear's breeches, Purple Sunset pomegranate, Pistachio Reblooming hydrangea, Royal Red hydrangea, Incrediball hydrangea, a hardy hibiscus collection (Blue Bird, Aphrodite, Helene, and Freedom), a grab bag of sun-loving perennials and a bag of shade-loving ones.

After these arrive and settle into my front garden, I'll be looking for April showers in April.

What are your favorite rain related songs? In no particular order, here's a list of mine:

Bus Stop - The Hollies
Why Does It Always Rain on Me? - Travis
Have You Ever Seen the Rain - Creedence Clearwater Revival
The Rain, the Park & Other Things - The Cowsills
Rainy Days and Mondays - Carpenters
You and Me and Rain on the Roof - The Loving Spoonful
Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head - B.J. Thomas

Your comments about rain and gardening are welcome.

Two Days in Brookgreen

"Neptune" sculpted by Wheeler Williams
Nandina, also known as heavenly bamboo, thrives between sculpture and brick wall

Brookgreen Gardens, located in Murrell's Inlet in Georgetown County, South Carolina, is a treasure I'd driven past many times over the years while traveling up and down US Highway 17. Family and friends had told me I would find it enchanting and that it was the sort of place well suited for a day trip out of Charleston. Yet I never seemed to fit a visit into my schedule.

When I finally did visit Brookgreen, it was on the spur of the moment near the end of a calendar year. One of the characters in my novel-in-progress owned a Scottish deerhound and, in order to attempt an accurate portrayal of the dog's behavior, I was searching for information about the breed. While reading from Arthur S. Beaman's Lure Coursing, I learned that the author had purchased a deerhound from the kennel owned by sculptor Anna Hyatt Huntington. I remembered that she, along with her husband Archer Huntington, had created Brookgreen Gardens, and I decided it was time for a day trip.

"The Visionaries" by Anna Hyatt Huntington
Archer and Anna Hyatt Huntington and one of Anna's beloved Scottish deerhounds

I went alone that first time and wandered through various garden rooms, soaking in the landscape and sculptures. Winter in the Lowcountry of South Carolina emits a stark beauty, but a beauty nonetheless. Sculptures of Diana, bright red berries, and beards of Spanish moss drew my attention, as did Anna Hyatt Huntington’s large sculpture “The Visionaries,” a portrayal of Archer and Anna planning the gardens accompanied by a Scottish deerhound. The back of the sculpture included an inscription of “The Silver Gardens,” a poem written by Archer.

On very cold days, like that one, I'm not prone to linger. And on that day I did not. Other than stopping in the restaurant for a late lunch, I kept moving, pausing only to take photographs and to read plaques that provided information about the works of art and their creators.

"Fawn" by sculptor Albert Stewart is located in the children's garden
with Oregon grape (mahonia aquifolium) and azaleas in the background

Three and a half months later, in April, I returned to Brookgreen Gardens with my daughter and her three young sons in tow. Azaleas and a multitude of other plants were in bloom. We used the map this time and visited garden rooms I'd miss during my earlier visit. One of those was the Peace Garden Room for Children - a big hit with my grandsons. The children's garden included sculptures of a big bear and a little bear sitting back to back, a girl with flute sitting atop a sunflower, a curled up fawn, and a caterpillar that delighted my youngest grandson, a toddler at the time of our visit.

Azalea blossoms

Part of "Pledge of Allegiance" by sculptor Glenna Goodacre

Poppy

Archer Huntington, heir to fortune, and Anna Hyatt, a successful sculptor, married on March 10, 1923, his fifty-third birthday and her forty-seventh. Brookgreen Gardens and Huntington Beach State Park host a 3-in-1 Day to celebrate.

Archer Huntington, known for his philanthropy, founded The Hispanic Society of America in New York and the Mariner’s Museum in Virginia, and with his wife Anna Hyatt Huntington co-founded Brookgreen Gardens. The Huntington Sculpture Garden, the first public sculpture garden in America, is a component of Brookgreen Gardens. It opened in 1932.

Delphinium

Brookgreen Gardens, as a whole consists of more than nine thousand acres. The Huntington Sculpture Garden consists of more than thirty-five acres. Other components of Brookgreen Gardens are the Lowcountry History and Wildlife Preserve and the Center for American Sculpture.

"Griffin" sculpted by Paul Howard Manship

Native Azalea

Subsequent to my two visits, a seasonal exhibit, a butterfly garden and house has opened at Brookgreen’s Lowcountry Zoo. My own favorite Lowcountry Zoo experiences, aside from witnessing my grandsons’ enjoyment, were seeing a fox asleep on a tree branch, watching river otters swim, and seeing fox squirrels leaping nearby.

The top portion of "Sunflowers" by Charles Parks 

Currently Brookgreen Gardens charges $14 for adult admission  (ages nineteen to sixty-four), $12 for those sixty-five or older and for young adults, $7 for children ages four to twelve. Younger children are admitted free. Tickets are valid for seven days, which is brilliant since there is so much to see and do at Brookgreen.

Foreground: Foxgloves
Background: "Fountain of the Muses" by sculptor Carl Milles

For more information about Brookgreen Gardens visit their website: http://www.brookgreen.org/

"Diana of the Chase" by Anna Hyatt Huntington

"Griffin" by Paul Howard Manship, right background