sprig to twig

The folks at HPSO talked Loree into opening her garden to a small group and sharing her tips and tricks for growing succulents. I have long admired this garden and gardener online, so I jumped at the chance to meet them both in 3D. I kicked myself for failing to bring my camera (it was hiding out, having learned something from those devious car keys), but I needn’t have worried. Loree does a much better job of chronicling than I ever could here. She almost apologetically admitted that all of her expertise comes from personal experience rather than study. As far as I am concerned, that is the very best kind of knowledge. Plus, I happen to know that she gobbles up every book on the subject before experimenting freely on the hundreds of plants in her collection.

As if soaking up this fabulous garden and pelting Loree with questions were not enough, she used her considerable pull in the local plant community to procure donated plants. There were just enough to go around. I fell somewhere in the middle of the ingenious drawing system for choosing. The big, showy numbers had already been snapped up, but I had had my eye on this little guy right from the start. I never met a Euphorbia I didn’t like. E. mamilaris ‘varigata’ stands 4.5″ tall and is a perfect fit for one of three little metal containers I found in a thrift shop. Doesn’t he look like he is holding up his paws and shouting “Pick me! Pick me!”?

Planting him up gave me a chance to put new information into practice. We had been warned that most succulents will be planted too deeply. Sure enough, you can see the dark line where the soil level reached in the nursery pot. I can see why they do it that way, because he wanted to flop over when the soil covered only his shallow root system. Aha! Here is where the recommended layer of gravel top-dressing came in. Not only is it attractive, but it holds the plant upright without retaining moisture. I applied this same technique to an Agave pup that had been struggling.

Since she knew of the death, last year, of my prickly pear, Loree had saved a paddle from one of hers for me. I am taking no chances with this one, so more potting practice, using 70% potting soil to 30% chicken grit and once again topping off with gravel. I noticed that the Danger Garden employs many cachepots with no drainage holes, so the watering of this plant, similarly housed, will need to be even sparser than usual (I am sure that Loree will correct me in the comments if I am wrong about that). Update: I was right: see comments for the straight scoop.

All in all, this was a perfect way to spend a beautiful, sunny morning. Thanks, HPSO, for convincing Loree to step outside of her comfort zone and try something she wasn’t sure she would be good at. Hah! Loree…I think you might just be finding yourself in demand. You were great!

Anyone who reads The Oregonian Homes & Gardens section will feel as if they already know Kym from the fine writing she has been doing there for years. Who could resist an opportunity to see, first hand, the garden wrought by this knowledgeable plant lover? Not me, that’s for sure. In an established, well-cultivated Portland neighborhood, this corner stands out. The mature, spreading maple creates ideal conditions for a shade garden.

You know you are in a collectors garden when this gigantic leaf meets you at eye level.

The markings on the stem would seem to suggest a Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Kym confirmed that it was, indeed, Arisaema speciosa magnificum, and magnificent it surely was…and this was only the beginning.

Close by, a painted concrete column emerges from dense foliage, topped with a pot holding Poncirus trifoliata ‘Flying Dragon’

While on the other side of a path leading to an inviting seating area, this bird bath is nestled into a massed planting of Hakanachloa macra.

If a tree dies, why not turn it into a sculpture? I could have happily settled into one of the inviting chairs in this part of the garden to while away the afternoon, but there was much more to see.

Back on the sidewalk, at the corner, an area is devoted to miniature conifers. Entering the frame from stage right is one layer of a magnificent Cornus controversa ‘Variegata’, also know as the wedding cake tree.

I was snapping pictures with every step. Here you can see more of that dogwood framing a vignette built around a free-standing gate-like panel. On the back side, just peeking out, is a fuzzy kangaroo paw plant in a delectable shade of apricot-to-russet.

Further down the block, ornamental oregano cascades over a stone retaining wall.

Across from which is a fully realized draught-tolerant parking strip planting.

This was probably my favorite area of all, looking perfect from every angle

and featuring some plants, like this stunning grass, that I am going to track down. I forgot to ask what it is, but I’ll be watching for it. Update from Kym on the grass: Panicum ‘Cheyenne Sky’

Up a few stairs we enter a very private back yard populated by many many many pots spilling over with tropical flair. Most of the pots are terra cotta, with the occasional punch of bright colored glaze.

The staging of these pots causes them to nearly disappear beneath the jungle tapestry of plants.

Pots travel right up the wall, and are aided by the canna leaves and the glass sculpture in giving verticality to the arrangement.

Tucked away in a corner, screened by billowing foliage, is a potting table with more pots at the ready.

Bucking the trend, a Monkey Puzzle Tree is planted in the ground and looking right at home amidst its potted neighbors.

Artistic touches like these small stone cairns are used with restraint.

A few creatures cavort around a small pond.

Fully grown trees add so much character if the gardener is willing to work around and with them.

On the way out, I noticed this mature Arcostaphylos densiflora ‘Harmony’. I just planted a small one of these, and had no idea it would grow up to display such interesting, peeling bark. I am sure that there were other wonders that passed under my radar, even though I nearly ran through the charge on my camera. Kym blogs at OregonLive.com, so you need not be left out if you are not an Oregonian reader. Her subjects are far-reaching and nearly as fascinating as her garden. Thanks, Kym, for sharing.

I open with this shot because it so perfectly illustrates the symbiotic relationship between the garden and the art…

although this huge water pot was actually the first feature to greet us as we entered.

Strategically placed here, there and everywhere are examples of the art that pours out of Jean’s Greenware Pottery.

If you can tear your eyes off the ground level vignettes and raise your head, you can glimpse the studio where it all happens.

Another outlet for Jean’s creativity is her way with container gardens. This one sits in front of the studio. If you look closely, you can just see some of her products in the background.

Small pots with cunning plantings are tucked in without ever looking like afterthoughts.

A beautiful old tree around the other side of the studio holds an assortment of bird houses created by the artist, while providing the conditions for a shade garden.

One of several healthy looking phormiums caught my eye. I asked Jean about them, hoping to hear some magical formula for nursing them through harsh winters. She simply buys new ones each year: they are that important to the architecture of the garden.

Between the studio and the main house sits the pond, the most recent addition to this six-year-old garden.

The plantings around and in the pond guarantee that its newness bears not a hint of rawness.

I couldn’t stop snapping photos of this particular combination for the color echoes spanning different textures. In the background are daylilies in vivid sunset tones, further forward, a dwarf cotinus billowing amber and in the foreground, the strappy phormium tying it all together.

By panning a little to the left, you can see how yet another texture has been introduced with the smooth green ball cozying up to the phormium. The whole garden has been considered this carefully. To the back of the house, the garden steps down to a grassy area and then the river. Jean and her husband were deep into preparations for next week’s Garden Conservancy tour, but Jean’s generous nature demanded that she spend time with us, sharing insights and inspirations.

Back at the studio came the hard part: deciding which of Jean’s whimsical garden creatures would come home with us.

I settled upon this dragonfly with ceramic body and tail and wings fashioned of willow twigs.

I figured you need to see a close up to appreciate the happy, loopy expression.

Marilyn saw how difficult it was for me to choose, so she bought me one of the flying fish, now frolicking in my heuchera bed…a fitting reminder of a lovely day.

No such thing as retracing one’s steps to get to point A in this garden. The back way takes us past flowers and vegetables. These dahlias are treated as a crop. I’ll bet there are some spectacular bouquets inside that house.

Here’s the path.

The fence is dressed in a sun sculpture fashioned from rebar. There was some evidence that the fence had doubled as a trellis back when there were beans and peas to climb up it.

More flower stalks left to dry in place.

Looking back, we can see the pool and the studio and beyond through the plantings.

I loved these pots on the landing between two flights of stairs. There was an identical pair on the other side.

The stairs led us down to the other side of the house, and this large clump of Crocosmia ‘Lucifer’, still in bloom.

These rusty portals defined a path from the play area through yet another bed.

Where this metal sunflower sculpture mingled with the real thing.

A glimpse of the entrance allee. Should you ever rate a dinner invitation, this would be the approach. See the muhly grass bordering the grass on both sides?

Working my way around the house, this red orb caught my eye (as did many other things, but my battery was running low, and it was time to thank the host and tear myself away).

Open gardens of every size and description are one of the perks of HPSO membership. You will have a chance to join up if you are one of the lucky Portlanders going to the sale this weekend.

Yes, it is as big as it looks, but before we go inside, lets take a look around (I do like to build a little suspense).

Along one side of the greenhouse is a holding area for plants waiting to go into the landscape.

Across the way is another holding area filled with lavender plants. I saw no lavender used in the existing scheme, so new plans must be brewing…as if I needed another reason to revisit in future.

Those are prickly pear paddles. Now there’s a party favor I could get behind.

And a whole bed of them heeled in. The sign says a free one of these goes to anyone making a purchase (I didn’t see anything for sale).

OK, we’re going inside now. Talk about your perfect host. Umbrellas lined up in case our quirky weather acted up.

The front half is a working greenhouse, with trays of starts and all the attendant equipment. The back half is more of an indoor display garden. This was a departure from the disciplined use of common plant material outside. Nothing was labeled and my recognition of plants was hit and miss. Feel free to fill us in in the comments.

I haven’t a clue about these two, but they look like relatives of one another. See the Agave pups at their feet?

The floor was littered with Agaves in all stages of development.

I do recognize that foreground plant as a Euphorbia, with a cute little cactus in the middle.

On the other side, a constant mist made for a lush jungle right across from the desert we just left.

Nice collection of leaf shapes and sizes.

When life gives you a greenhouse, make lemons!

Tomorrow we will work our way back down the hill and take our leave. I hope you will join me.

In honor of the HPSO Fall Plant Sale coming up this weekend, I will post about a marvelous garden. Last year, when I visited the Quirk & Neill garden (a collector’s garden with many unusual plants), they generously directed me to the Westwind Farm Studio as an example of a completely different approach to gardening. Here, the plant material is familiar, but used in great sweeping swathes that eventually melt into the surrounding 40 acres of natural landscape. So as not to overdo a good thing, I will break this down into three consecutive posts.

From the parking area, a path winds up the hill. In most cases, dried seedheads and flowers have been left in place, as on this crocosmia.

Tons of massive stone were brought in. We are introduced to the idea of stonework amidst plantings with these stone steps taking us over the brow of the hill to the level where the house reveals itself. It was designed by the late, great Pietro Belluschi.

The back deck of the house overlooks this bed, where a large stand of Solidago ‘Fireworks’ rises above muhly grass and Perovskia, establishing a theme of repetition that holds throughout the property.

The next bed picks up the theme and riffs on it.

Rivers of lambs’ ears define many of the borders, this one overlooking the view of the valley.

The muhly grass reappears as a border plant. Earlier in the season, the Echinacea, grown in abundance, set the hillside aflame. Now the seedheads have been left standing. There are birds everywhere.

Grass is used sparingly, providing a nice cushy walking surface.

Huge stones are worked into the plantings masterfully, and even jut out from paved surfaces here and there, making it look as if they were native to the site. The building on the left is a yoga studio overlooking the pool.

Not too many places on my radar could provide the perfect setting for a monumental sculpture.

Ah, the good life.

There’s that muhly grass again, this time surrounding a pond with waterfall.

Leaving the house level, another path takes us up the back hill. The bright noonday sun fades the color, but the birds and the bees were working over this hillside like nobody’s business.

Dried flower heads of Achillea make for an autumnal composition. And that’s it for today’s installation of this three-part series. I must warn you: tomorrow we will visit the greenhouse, so if eliminating envy is high on your list of resolutions, you might want to steer clear.

This first photo gives you some idea of the conditions these plantings have to contend with…cement on all sides and a steady flow of of traffic (and the heavy pollution that implies) with full sun. Maurice Horn of Joy Creek Nursery worked with Reed to develop and oversee the plan, then worked with volunteers on the installation.

The ginkos at regular intervals were already in place, giving the design some structure from the very start. 2-3″ each of compost and crushed basalt gravel were worked into the soil, a mixture that serves to cut through clay soil and encourage deeper root systems. The plantings were watered during the first two years. Now they are watered with hoses once a year, with some supplemental when the temperatures rise into the 90’s.

As you can see, many of the new plants have reached full size.

Foliage color and texture keep things interesting year-round.

Strategically placed boulders are especially handsome with flowering plants spilling over them.

While flowers are not the main attraction, there are enough of them to brighten the design.

These asters were just coming on.

This crape myrtle was the most dramatic plant of all. I had no idea what it was (none of the plants in the strip are labeled) but HPSO always features a display of blooms contributed by members at every event, so I soon learned that it is Lagerstroemia ‘Arapaho’. I had never seen a crape myrtle with anything other than those Pepto Bismol pink flowers, and had valued it mainly for its fall color. This one is truly stunning, dressed in wine and claret.

This bottle brush shrub contributed in its own quiet way.

Pebble mosaic stepping stones allow workers into the border to perform maintenance chores.

The last time I visited was in the spring, when Ceanothus were blooming their hearts out. This time it looked as if there had been a recent work party to replenish the gravel top dressing and spruce things up.

Yesterday was a fine day for a drive in the country. Good thing, too, as I managed to get us thoroughly lost more than once. The garden created by Craig Quirk and Larry Neill was well worth any extra time and gas expended to find it (coming from the opposite direction from the directions can be confusing to the spatially challenged). We feared an extended stay when it took us half an hour to work our way down a short side walkway to the garden proper. There was so much to see…not only spectacular plantings, but artful surprises tucked in here and there and everywhere.

Eventually, we emerged into the Mediterranean garden, where we were greeted by Craig Quirk, who graciously offered to answer any questions we might have. I had to do some self-editing, as everywhere I looked were plants I had never seen before (didn’t want to swamp our poor host right off the bat). In the foreground of the first picture is a yucca just coming into bloom, backed by a stand of Asdenophile with feathery foliage and a plethora of tiny pencil-like buds which open fully towards evening (I liked them like this). I forgot to ask about that spiny character in the lower right corner, but the leaves entering the frame from the lower left are Melianthus major.

And here is the Melianthus in a starring role center stage in a muscular aqua pot with an arrangement of Echeverias and sea glass at its feet. The background blue is not the sky, but a concrete wall backing a pool with a tall column spilling water into it. On the other side is a secret shade garden of which I have no pictures (in respect for its secretiveness).

This grass keeps popping up, and this is the most success I have had capturing the luminous seed heads on long, stiff stems. Stipa gigantea is, I think, the name it goes by.

These guys are not about to be thwarted by lack of color. Once the petals fall, they paint the poppy pods to enhance the carefully plotted color scheme.

This was as close as I could come to an overview of the main garden. It is divided into color quadrants around a grassy center anchored by a tall wind sculpture. The impressive red banana to the right has a fellow sentinel to the left. They reside in giant pots, and are treated as annuals (no room in the greenhouse).

Standing at the back of the blue quadrant, the defining golden cypresses can be glimpsed through a haze of blue salvia.

A whimsical palm tree…can you identify those coconuts?

On the far side of the garden is a shady oasis, where this giant cast concrete Gunnera leaf drips water into a waiting pool.

While nearby a Crinus has formed handsome pods to rival the dramatic flowers that went before, flanked by leaves of glass catching the light.

The tablescape of succulents where we ended our tour also included a platter of to-die-for cookies flavored with exotic spices and lemonade enhanced with basil and mint. We observed that gardeners are invariably excellent cooks, and generous to a fault.

The open gardens feature of HPSO is my favorite of the many perks that come with membership. I urge you to join if you would like to be invited into wonderlands such as this.

After a long stretch of overcast days, the morning of the ANLD tour dawned bright and clear, with a gentle breeze and temperatures in the 70’s. I made a list, but failed to check it twice. As a result, I left behind a very important item…my camera! Oh, well, you will just have to take my word for it: the banners were smashing in the two gardens designed by Mary Baum. Her main garden on the tour featured a formal garden in the front (in keeping with the colonial design of the house). The owner fancies red, so liberal splashes of bright Geum encouraged me to place a red and purple Which Way close to the house. The large expanse of perfect lawn provided a background for several Spinnakers. The broad front porch was furnished with white wicker furniture…what a setup for decorative pillows.

Across the street, Mary has created a garden in perfect harmony with the charming cottage, while avoiding the typical “cottage garden” look. Unusual plants abound, and the tapestry of acid lime greens, deep burgundies and golden ground covers were just the foil needed to display Pistil (the bracket was even already in place).

A couple of Spinnakers in compatible colors flanked the front walk.

Those of us participating in the ANLD garden tour this coming weekend had an opportunity to see the gardens the other day. Cameras were snapping. Mine captured the following pictures, which I will run with no comment, just to whet your appetite.