A greenness grew

Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. ~Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

On this first day of May, I look out the window and see green – green! – on the tree branches. Flowers have been blooming since February – snowdrops, crocus, daffodils, tulips – and their color is so welcome.  Yet when the woods light up in delicate green, it feels as if spring is complete.

The ostrich ferns have completely unfurled, refracting light through their intricate fronds

while the sunlight pouring through white daffodil ‘Bella Coola’ turns its petals translucent.

The weather has had several wild swings this spring, hot summer temperatures for days in early spring followed by deep drops into bitter cold, the process repeated again and again. Yet the plants have survived somehow, resilient and beautiful.

Parts of the garden have come fully into bloom – the grape and lemonade bed is always its showiest this time of year.

After years of tolerating our makeshift garden gate built of fence parts, I found a beautifully crafted gate to create a dramatic entrance into the garden.

Green isn’t the only foliage color in the garden now – the red Japanese maples have fully unfurled their leaves

as has the purple smokebush entwined with Clematis ‘Sweet Sugar Blues’.  Our wild violets (Viola sororia) have been blooming for weeks and are now joined by the soft blue and white blossoms of hardy geraniums.

My latest garden video traces the gradual emergence of spring and the light that shines through the garden at this bewitching time of year.

Wherever you are in the world, and in whatever season you find yourself, may you see the light shining through the beautiful things in our world.

Garden Dreams

Is there a gardener living who doesn’t dream of what a new garden season can bring? Our long winter months in the American north encourage that dreaming. The sharp changes from warm to frozen and back again inspired me to freeze some hellebore buds in ice to reflect this spring’s crazy weather. The seeds I ordered by Christmas were planted indoors under lights and outdoors in wintersown jugs by early February. Lists of  plants were made and remade, then ordered – they are now arriving almost daily.

The garden slowly evolved from its late winter glow

into early spring bloom

and then into vibrant spring color.

The weeping cherry in the center of the circle garden bloomed early and profusely. As always, it was alive with hungry pollinators looking for a early meal.

Gradually it released its petals as the greens of the garden emerged,

followed by fragrant purple sandcherry blossoms perfuming the air near the deck.

My biggest garden dream this year is to plant several new woodland garden beds with all native plants. For the past three years, I have been systematically removing invasive plants in the woods and plants that are not pollinator friendly in the garden beds. My longterm goal is to have 70% of the garden plants be native (the woods are already 90%). As I increase that percentage each year, more insects and birds take up home here and grace the garden with their presence.

I’ll be tracking my progress this year as part of a collaboration with some YouTube garden friends as we each pursue and document our garden dreams over the year. Here is my first installment of the video series, let me know what you think below in the comments. Happy garden dreams!

Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. ~Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

 

A Pixie anniversary

Two years ago, on a bitterly cold January day, we brought sweet Pixie home, a 6 month old poodle puppy frightened because she had never been away from her first home before. She was reassured by stuffed toys and cuddles and quickly settled into our lives. Her first moments outside were spent dashing joyfully through the deep snow while I laughed at her antics.

She loves taking afternoon naps with her Dad

and keeps a watchful eye out for visitors.

She’s gone on to be a cheerful garden helper

and has had many cameos in my garden films.

This past week, a beautiful snowfall brought inches of white fluffy fun to the garden and Pixie responded by joyfully racing through the snow. What a beautiful sight! It was the perfect time to make her the star of her own Pixie movie – enjoy!

Season of light

We are just past the Winter Solstice here in the northern hemisphere – each day will now grow longer, bringing more light into our daily lives. It is not surprising that many holidays in December celebrate a season of light with candles, Yule logs, Christmas lights and many other traditions.

Without leaves on the trees, the bright winter sun shines through the seedpods of plants and create patterns of shadow and light in the quiet garden.

After a brisk run through the cold morning garden, Pixie enjoys a nap in the afternoon light, raising a sleepy head every so often.

I had the energy this year to fully decorate the house for the holidays, inside and out. The front porch got special treatment to welcome visitors with a rustic green and white theme. (click on any photo to see a full size image)

Inside the house, I managed to get two trees decorated – the one in the front hall is full of musical angels and instruments, birds, magical creatures and the sun, moon, and stars.

The tree looking out over the woods and garden has a rustic woodland theme, filled with birds, furry creatures, nature Santas, and gardening tools.

I had so much fun decorating that I made a short video of the Christmas trees including a few cameos by Pixie and a soundtrack of Christmas music that I arranged for a CD years ago. Betty, a YouTube friend of mine, also included my video in a montage of Christmas trees on her channel. Enjoy!

As much as I miss spending my summer days in the garden, I look forward to the winter evenings as the sunlight fades and the candles and Christmas tree lights glow in the dark. I often light a fire in the music room fireplace and play Christmas carols with Pixie at my feet, a lovely way to end the evening. Whatever you may celebrate this time of year, may the light shine on your path and brighten the new year ahead.

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing. ~T. S. Eliot

All text and images ©2023 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved, except where noted.

A garden for all seasons

The seasons are what a symphony ought to be: four perfect movements in harmony with each other. ~Arthur Rubinstein (unverified)

Slowly, the leaves are beginning to don their autumn cloaks of gold and red. The weeping cherry in the center of the circle garden is the first to turn,

followed by the red leaves of our native oak leaf hydrangea.

Much of the garden has barely begun to change color – the oaks are the last to turn as if they are reluctant to leave summer behind.

The white blossoms of Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ have softened to a rose-tinged hue

while other flowers and foliage carry on as if autumn was still a distant dream.

This summer, a former student came to visit us at home and we spent a splendid afternoon together. In the midst of his technology filled life, he had become interested in gardening and asked for a tour of my garden. Bill tagged along and as we strolled through the rose arbor into the lower garden, Bill exclaimed “walking through the arbor, now I understand!”

As I turned to him in puzzlement, he went on to say that he hadn’t walked through the arbor into that part of the garden in a long time, having been content to admire it from the deck while playing his guitar. Walking into the garden gave him a completely different perspective of what it meant to stand in the space and be enveloped by it. I was deeply moved by his reaction yet it confirmed what I’ve always believed about a garden – to truly experience it, you need to walk through it, not just look at it. Those of you who garden or who hike in nature surely know this difference.

By bringing a soulful consciousness to gardening, sacred space can be created outdoors. ~S. Kelley Harrell

My garden has developed its own sense of place over the years – while I made the design decisions, tilled the soil, and filled it with plants, it was in partnership with nature. The garden and I evolved and grew together – I learned its many secrets, it responded to my care and now we are deeply intertwined in this long standing friendship.

This is where I’ve walked every day for the past 22 years, listening, paying attention, and finding delight.  Joined in this quiet endeavor, our efforts have yielded both beauty and bounty in every season. Each time I step through an arbor, walk along a path, cradle a flower, or watch a spider weave an intricate web, I feel a part of the magic.

. . . the ideal space must contain elements of magic, serenity, sorcery and mystery. ~Luis Barragan, Mexican architect

A few weeks ago, I taught a garden design class and decided that the best way to teach the value of structure in a garden was to make a short video of the entrances of my garden through every season. As I was putting it together, I realized these entrances are really the invitation to enter into the garden. 

A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy. ~Luis Barragan

As the seasons change, I hope each of you finds serenity and joy in the nuances and beauty of nature.