Bluebells on the loose

Nearly every May, I have found a way to work in a visit to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.  And no matter when in the month I make my visit, I am always rewarded.  Their cherry blossoms are spectacular and the grove of lilacs can’t be beat.

On this occasion I was able to make it to the garden at the right time to catch the brief but spectacular Bluebell Wood. 45,000 Spanish bluebells explode beneath a canopy of oak, birch, and beech trees.  It’s is unforgettable.  This perfect picturesque element was born out of necessity.  The original lawn area was not doing well with so much shade.  In 1994 Robert Hyland, former Brooklyn Botanical Garden head of horticulture, designed the planting that we see today.

In some climates, the Spanish bluebell is almost too good at what it does.  The Plant Conservation Alliance lists Spanish Bluebells on its list of “plants to watch” in US Mid-Atlantic states and encourages their removal from native woodlands there.

And last year David Randall wrote “Spanish bluebell is on the loose” for UK’s The Independent.  He said: “The desire of gardeners to have one of the great glories of the English countryside growing in their own backyards is threatening the very plant they adore. An insidious process involving garden centres, their customers and insects is doing great damage to that most emblematic of wildflowers, the native bluebell.” 

Nonetheless, these bluebells are safe to use across many gardens and a bluebell display like this is quite special;  plan a visit to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden so that you don’t miss the 2-week window when these beauties are in bloom.

 

Legend of the blue poppy

I’ve just seen my first blue poppies at the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden!  Their color, a fluorescent blue, is so unusual that at first I thought that they were plastic.  The definition of simplicity, each flower just has 4 petals that frame a white pistil and a spray of golden anthers.

The Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden, located outside of Seattle in Federal Way, was founded in 1964 in order to preserve rhododendron from North America, Asia, Australia, and Europe, particularly important given the loss of natural habitat in many parts of the world.  In the US alone, over 20% of rhododendron species are facing extinction and this garden is the only botanical garden dedicated exclusively to preserving them.

Plant hunter Frank Kingdon-Ward

Arranged in a picturesque setting along curving paths, this garden showcases 700 out of the world’s 1,000 rhododendron species.  And to complement the “rhody’s,” the garden also features companion plants.  During my visit last week it was one of these, the blue poppy, that caught my attention.  

Native to the high altitude Himalaya’s, the blue poppy is extremely rare.  So few had seen one that for a time some questioned whether it existed.

It requires moist well-drained soil in a partially shaded spot protected from the wind. A poppy plant will often die after their first flowering so growers recommend sacrificing the first year’s flowers for hopes of some in subsequent years.  And slugs love them.

Then we come to their unique color.  For starters, less than 10% of flowering plants have blue flowers.  According to David Lee, author of Nature’s Palette: The Science of Plant Color, “There is no true blue pigment in plants, so plants don’t have a direct way of making a blue color.  Plants tweak… pigments to make blue flowers… through a variety of modifications involving pH shifts and mixing of pigments, molecules and ions.”

The flower’s history is tied to plant hunter Frank Kingdon-Ward, the first to export a viable seed. In 1913 he wrote In the Land of the Blue Poppies: Travels of a Naturalist in Eastern Tibet, “up here, at 17,000 feet, springing from amongst huge blocks of grey stone, I found the glorious Cambridge blue poppywort, one of the most beautiful flowers in existence…”  Through his many books he takes us along on adventures to some of the most remote parts of the planet.

Blue poppies bloom for about 3 weeks, so hurry out to the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden to catch them while you can.  And don’t miss Blue Poppy Day at the garden this Saturday.

 

In the Land of the Blue Poppy (1913)

Photo from book. "Waterfall at T'eng-yueh, West Yunnan"

Farm to table: Fit for a queen

There are many types of beautiful gardens, but none are more different than the formal garden and the vegetable garden.

The formal garden is primarily ornamental.  Geometry, symmetry, constraint, and an axial relationship to a main structure rule the design. Clipped plant material reminds us of our desired supremacy and control over nature. Statues celebrate great past accomplishments, connecting us to a broader historical context.  The formal garden is soothing in its repetition and orderliness; it feels sheltered from the dangers of the natural world.

The vegetable garden is primarily practical.  Meant for physical nourishment.  Here is an immediacy that comes from the planting, growing, harvesting cycle. It is meant for a hard day’s work and a good nap at the end of the day.  In return we get food and sustenance. It too provides a sense of shelter, though mostly intended to protect precious crops.

Nowhere do these two garden styles contrast with greater impact than at the Chateau de Versailles.  I always thought of Versailles as an iconic formal garden.  Miles of straight paths radiate from the Palace into a series of formal gardens, many with grand water features. This garden screams power, money, destiny.  The vistas into the horizon are remarkable in a “how did they carve this out of swamp and woodland” way; but the effect is also intimidating.  I felt small in the face of it. 

After hours of walking through these formal gardens, the transition into the Queen’s Hamlet brings welcome relief.  Behind the Petit Trianon sits a traditional English picturesque garden where curved paths follow a naturalistic stream.  Each turn opens up a new view until finally a large lake frames a French rustic village.

It feels as if you’ve stumbled onto a small town. Without the gravel path leading toward it and it being on the official garden map, I might have stopped at the view so as not to disturb the families living there.

Hubert Robert's ink drawing Interior of a Farmhouse with Figures. Source: National Gallery of Art, Samuel H. Kress Collection.

From some angles the composition is too perfect, like a movie set or theme park.  Every piece of the design is intentional. A few man-made toad ponds blend into the meadow and provide part of the sound track.

Marie Antoinette commissioned this garden in 1783 as a retreat from the pressures of the Court.  The garden was built by architect Richard Mique and painter Hubert Robert at an estimated cost of $5 million (in today's $'s).

The garden is an imitation of a rustic French village, a series of thatched roof houses each has its own gardens framed by hornbeam hedges and chestnut trees, and planted with useful cabbage, artichokes and lettuce.  There are climbing vines on most buildings, flowers for cutting, and simple flowerpots. There’s an orchard and vineyard and small barn for farm animals. This was a working farm run by a real farmer who put food onto the royal table, but the main purpose of this garden was to provide Marie Antoinette a place to relax with friends. 

I couldn’t help but feel a philosophical struggle at Versailles between the vast series of extravagant formal gardens that celebrated legacy and big government on one side of the Petit Trianon, and on the other side this (also extravagant) idealized rustic place that celebrated simple farm life.  Did I want to stay in the warm, country village or go back to the grandeur of the Palace?  Perhaps a metaphor for the struggle going on in France that led to the French Revolution?  Marie Antoinette barely enjoyed any time in this garden. By the time it was completed, the Revolution had begun.

See more posts about the gardens at Versailles here.

The vegetable garden I am planning this year won’t look anything like this, but it is fun to dream.

 

Hubert Robert by Élisabeth Vigée-Lebrun. Source: Louvre.

Drawing of Richard Mique holding garden plan, unknown artist (courtesy of Musée Carnavalet, Paris)