THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY

Eyes sparkling and squirming with mpatience, I sat at the top of the stairs in my flannel gown and robe and awaited Mom’s green light before charging down to the living room to the wonder of a decorated tree shimmering over Santa’s bounty.

It was the crack of dawn, and I felt like a racehorse at the gate while Mom started the percolator, plated the Dresden Stollen, and eyed a cursory sweep under the tree to assure she hadn’t forgotten anything. (Some months later, Mom would inevitably discover an overlooked gift buried in the back of an overstuffed closet.) Then Dad flipped the switch to the multi-colored tree lights, and my sisters and I were invited down to begin our Christmas day.

And year after year (even after I knew the secret of Santa), I was thrilled at my first glimpse of the annual magic of our sometimes symmetrical, real fir tree adorned with lightbulbs shaped like flames or bubbling-candles, along with an unabashed mix of old and new, elegant and cheesy glass balls—plus ornaments passed down from my grandmother and silvery tinsel (lead-based until the FDA declared it a hazard) draped a single strand at a time. And occasionally candy canes hooked over the ends of boughs. This miracle of the decorated tree was executed without fail every Christmas Eve after kids’ bedtime. Not a day or an hour before. It was always the greatest Christmas morning gift; and the tree stayed up until New Year’s Eve. This was my memory of the tradition in my family circa 1950s and ’60s.

Christmas Tree History
According to my friend, Mary Kathryn McIntosh, a walking encyclopedia of Christmas history and lore, Christmas traditions date back to 1605 with the first mention in a diary of an indoor evergreen in Strasbourg decorated with paper roses, apples, gilded candies, and more; and the practice caught on in Germany. Fifty years later candles were added to indoor trees (yes, a fire hazard).

The first documented Christmas tree in Virginia was in 1842, and in 1849 Virginia became the 5th state to legally recognize Christmas. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert then popularized Christmas trees in the U.S. after setting up a Christmas tree in Windsor Castle that appeared (without mentioning their titles) in America’s Godey’s Lady’s Book in 1850. With the abundance of trees in our Commonwealth, the tradition was easily established.

Trees were ornamented with glass balls, chains of beads, toys, and all sorts of memorabilia, and some were even hung upside down from the ceiling to spare sparse floor space. And it seems that whenever and wherever they are, they always spread their celebratory limbs to embrace family gifts and childhood pleasures.

In 1877, five years after Edison invented the light bulb, electric lights made their way to Christmas trees, and by 1900, one in five families had a tree. It seems it took a long time, however, for improvements in tree lights. Until recent times, I can recall laboriously testing each individual light socket when one bulb went out and took the whole strand out with it. While I’m at it, another big improvement is deeper and more accessible water vessels to prevent dehydration.

In the 21st century, Christmas tree farms have become a business that’s grown into a $1 billion industry. The big box stores are the largest sellers, although I still favor a local garden center with a direct pipeline to a western North Carolina Fraser fir farm.

Carrying on Family Traditions
When it became my turn to be the grown-up and carry on family Christmas tree traditions with my own children, I abandoned tinsel and my parents’ frenetic practice of decorating the tree on Christmas Eve. While still cherishing those childhood memories, I initiated new, and easier traditions of my own—some better; some that turned out to be not so good. I did, however, retain the tradition of a natural tree in favor of an artificial tree in white, blue, or other trendy themes and styles.

And I created a memory tree laden to this day with my own childhood Storybook dolls, handcrafts and other memorabilia from world travels, gifts from family and friends, and items made by our own children or myself. Each ornament tells a sentimental or spiritual story; my needlepoint Santa shares a tree limb with a tuna can crafted into a manger scene by one of our sons in Sunday School 50 or so years ago. Oh, and our tree sports a pair of baby shoes from each of our five sons, and my heart is full every Christmas as I place them on the tree. An angel is the topper, and she watches over it all.

A new tradition that didn’t turn out so well was when in the 1970s, my firstborn son Reid and I strung popcorn, piece by laborious piece, to drape our tree with natural garlands instead of tinsel. That’s the good part. The not-so-good part is that I couldn’t bear to throw the garlands out after the holidays, so I tucked them in a box in a storage area where mice discovered a bonanza of Christmas dinners to last them the rest of the winter. That was a short-lived tradition.

Many years later when I moved to Bedford County, a new tradition was to make a family outing out of selecting our own tree on our farm, and we usually picked one of our overly-plentiful cedars. As we aged and finally admitted we were tired of facing the New Year with a floor full of dropped needles and scratchy twigs when hauling the crispy cedar to the burn pile, we turned to North Carolina grown Fraser firs, a most satisfactory fresh tree.

Now, as seniors living in a second-floor condo, we’ve of necessity ceded fresh trees to a less labor-intensive artificial tree with built-in lights, and I continue to decorate it the same as always. I admit modern fake trees do look real—well almost—but I still think authentic fresh trees are best.

Doors, Mantles, Tables, and More
I continue with the old-fashioned tradition of decorating mantles, tables, and other spaces with fresh greens and berries. What’s more beautiful at Christmas and makes the house smell better than sprigs of Fraser fir, pine, spruce, and boxwood on a bed of shiny magnolia leaves punctuated and enlivened by holly berries? One of my favorites for dramatic splash is Winterberry holly.

I love fresh green garlands wrapped along stair banisters and hanging mistletoe on a “kissing ball,” but they’re traditions I’ve also let go. Come to think of it, I don’t see mistletoe in homes these days. Maybe folks in my age group are less interested in being caught under the mistletoe—or maybe shooting mistletoe out of trees for those kissing balls has pretty much gone by the boards, at least for city folks.

Door and window wreaths of fresh greens continue as a long-standing Virginia tradition, and my old standby is a classic combination of magnolia leaves and boxwood that can be dressed up with berries, nuts, pinecones, and any other imaginative materials that are handy and strike my fancy. It’s fun to alternate the front and back of magnolia leaves for a lovely combo of green and copper.

To create your own wreath, start with a pre-made form and u-shaped picks from a hobby store, and fasten overlapping magnolia leaves one at a time around the entire circle in a pattern that pleases you. Boxwood wreaths can be made the same way, and you can combine the two and/or other greens, making wreaths one-sided or two-sided for hanging on glass doors or windows. If you’re looking for a quick splash of color to tie in with your decor, add a bow. And, voila!

Stepping It Up
If you’d like to step it up to the next level, try making a della Robbia–style wreath, the crème-de-la-crème of festive fresh wreaths. Inspiration for these reaches back to the 1440s when Italian sculptor Luca della Robbia invented the technique of vibrant polychrome tin-glazed terracotta statuary. He passed his form of artistry down to family members who continued to produce decorated terracotta reliefs edged by beautifully modeled wreaths of brilliantly hued flowers, fir cones, and fruits such as apples, oranges, and lemons.

Today’s della Robbia Christmas decorations in natural materials may be in the form of a round wreath, shaped to fit an architectural space above a door or windows, or other forms. Just start with building a basic wreath or form with magnolia leaves, boxwood, and/or other natural materials such as red cedar, pine, mountain laurel, rosemary, or ivy. Then, using wired picks, affix flowers, berries, and fruit to please your personal taste. In addition to apples, oranges, and lemons, try adding pineapple, limes, pomegranates, and cranberries. Dried flowers, rose hips, pinecones, and okra pods are other options. Your della Robbia creation may be as elaborate as you like. Let your imagination be your guide! Tips: Dip fresh fruit in acrylic wax (kitchen floor wax) for longer life, and please do not add a bow.

Your della Robbia creation may also be used as a centerpiece or over-mantle decoration. Or you may prefer mantle and table top decorations with fresh materials that lean toward simple understated elegance with just a few magnolia leaves, boxwood, and sprigs of holly. I had fun one season hanging fresh bright red peppers on a miniature live spruce tree as a centerpiece, and I regularly assemble little trees of fresh boxwood cuttings on a pyramid shaped metal form designed to hold apples, lemons, or other fruit. Sometimes I drape them with cranberry garlands or add sprigs of holly. Simple, easy, and quick—and always tasteful. Fresh natural materials never go out of style.

Look for Inspiration
For inspiration and ideas for natural Christmas decorations, you’ll find lovely fresh plant material and décor all round Lynchburg this holiday season—at the Farm Basket, local nurseries, Old City Cemetery, churches, and more.

A particularly interesting spot to visit for historic Christmas decorating is Point of Honor (www.pointofhonor.org) in historic Daniel’s Hill, completed in 1815 by Dr. George Cabell. This Federal style mansion is now a city museum where period arrangements grace the mantle, tables, and even the stairs every Christmas. Christmas Open House is Sunday, December 3rd, from noon until 4 p.m. This holiday season, as last year, features live greens and other plant material in arrangements and a decorated tree in the Victorian style, following two prior years of arrangements in the 1815-1830 pre-Christmas tree Federal style.

To venture not far from Lynchburg for natural and creative Christmas decor, visit Avenel (www.historicavenel.com) in Bedford. Also known as the William M. Burwell House, built about 1836, Avenel is a blend of Federal and Greek Revival styling. It is known for glorious fresh Christmas arrangements and is the place to see the della Robbia tradition in practice. A great opportunity to visit would be for their 1850’s celebration, “Gilded Christmas of Olde,” on Saturday, December 9th from 6 until 8:30 p.m., when Avenel will also feature spirits and culinary delights from the past as well as lively entertainment. Tickets may be purchased from any board member, www.lynchburgtickets.com, Arthur’s Jewelry, Scott & Bond Insurance, or Bedford Welcome Center.

Deck the Halls!
I feel that childhood delight rush back as I trim my tree once again this Christmas, spread fresh greens on my mantle, and deck the halls with holly. Whether your Christmas décor is sacred or secular, reflective of worldly attachment or spiritual reverence—or a combination of these like my tree and me, it’s a very personal reflection of you and your traditions.

If you’ve never tried to create a fresh della Robbia wreath, I hope you’ll start a new tradition of your own this year and see how imaginative you can be. I can’t wait to see photos! Email me at susantimmons@verizon.net.

Living in the Moment

He has a cave. She has a shed. Both have a sanctuary. A place of refuge—an oasis, retreat, hideaway. A place to call his or her own.

She sheds are a trendy thing, at least as far as vernacular, catchy phrases and marketing soundbites go. But language aside, the thing itself is as old as human history. When in the world haven’t women found a special place for escaping the demands and challenges of everyday life?

For Women and Budding Women
Oh, how memories flood back of times as a young girl in Richmond whiling away endless happy hours in a tiny, exquisite white frame, green-shuttered play house set among the daffodils and rose beds of my best friend’s mother’s backyard garden. Anne Gordon Harrison (double first name in traditional Southern style) and I fancied ourselves as two grown-up ladies hosting tea parties for our favorite dolls in this little organdy-curtained wonderland. A genuine English porcelain doll-sized tea set and miniature flower arrangements of forget-me-nots, candy tuft, and lily of the valley that we arranged ourselves in tiny glass vases completed the scene.

In our make-believe world, our dolls were our children—and we shared their, and our, innermost dreams and secrets. This was seven decades or so ago, and I can still retreat into those sweet innocent memories.

Was this play house a she shed? Absolutely—even if, as little city girls, we didn’t yet know the meaning of the word “shed.”

It was our happy place where imagination ran wild and we were free to be our true pretend-lady selves under Anne Gordon’s mother’s hawk (yet unobtrusive) eye.

A Place for a Poet
Reaching even further back in history, on Pierce Street in inner-city Lynchburg, the Harlem Renaissance poet Anne Spencer, 1882-1975, created her own special she shed. Her backyard cottage, according to Jane Baber White, author of Lessons Learned from a Poet’s Garden, was a “charming, cluttered one-room sanctuary built for her by her husband Edward as a place where she could write.”

According to Jane White, Edward was industrious and imaginative in building the structure, using slabs of greenstone to make the chimney and floor. All materials were salvaged or gifts from friends and neighbors and ingeniously repurposed.

And they cleverly named her cottage Edankraal, which “combines Edward’s name with Anne’s to form a pun on the word Eden and the South African word for dwelling, ‘kraal’.”

Edankraal’s front porch was framed by trumpet vines supported by massive turned posts in aqua blue. And over time, her beloved garden, for which she is also famous, spread around Edankraal and overflowed with roses, bulbs, grapes, lilacs, poppies, peonies, rose of Sharon, daisies, phlox, coralbells and much more.

Edward and Anne’s hospitable home and garden of ever-changing seasonal color blossomed into an intellectual oasis for notable Black scholars and civil rights activists, including Paul Robeson, Langston Hughes, W.E.B. Dubois, and James Weldon Johnson. And when she could grab quiet moments amid all this intellectual stimulation, Anne would submit to the pull of her passion for gardening, then retreat to the solitude of Edankraal and draw from her garden inspiration for her poetry and musings:

Being a Negro woman is the world’s most exciting game of “Taboo”: By hell there is nothing you can do that you want to do and by heaven you are going to do it anyhow—We do not climb into the jim crow galleries of scenario houses we stay away and read I read garden and seed catalogs, Browning, Housman, Whitman, Saturday Evening Post detective tales, Atlantic Monthly, American Mercury, Crisis, Opportunity, Vanity Fair, Hibberts Journal, oh, anything.I can cook delicious things to eat…We have a lovely home—one that
money did not buy—it was born and evolved slowly out of our passionate, poverty-stricken agony to own our own home.Happiness
—Anne Spencer

Out of passion and love, Anne not only had her own home, but also her very own she shed. And it opened the spigot for her creative literary juices to flow.

Jean’s Sugar Shack
After reading my story in Lynchburg Living about my country cottage garden, a previously unknown-to-me lady named Jean Springer invited me to visit her own beloved country cottage garden in Amherst County. Recognizing that we were kindred garden spirits, I drove out Elon Road five or so miles beyond Woodruff’s Store to discover the spiritual soul of her lovely garden, a she shed she calls the Sugar Shack.

This she shed is a small space, but within its 8×10 walls are so many objects of memorabilia spanning generations of family and friendship that it’s almost impossible to take it all in. Dolls, baby clothes, shaving brushes, lace from a wedding gown, mini-quilts, toys from her childhood and much more. Every single item punctuates a story of a relationship she cherishes and memories of magnanimity. And every feature and flower that grace the Sugar Shack’s surrounding garden—the little waterfall and stream lovingly built by her grandson, a plaque, “Remembering Andy,” and a fabulous assortment of spectacular irises—has its own story of generosity of spirit.

Jean says she sleeps in the main house up the hill (well, most of the time), but her heart is always in the Sugar Shack. And she has even slept there with a passel of grandsons lined up like cordwood in a mini-loft that extends under the porch roof.

She shares stories of sleepovers with the kids, with checkers (no electronics allowed), night-time stories, round-robin bedtime prayers, and heart-to-heart talks after lights out, followed by crisp mornings with hot breakfasts of eggs, bacon and toast fixed on the hotplate. Adding a little stove for wintertime warmth, Jean has created cozy, intimate, and never-to-be-forgotten memories with grandma—coated with lots of grandma’s sugar—in the Southern colloquial sense of the word.

It’s Jean’s happy place, her joy, her gift to herself and to her family. It’s also her quiet place, and she makes time every day for the peace and tranquility it brings her, rocking on her porch or reading her Bible inside.

What’s the Purpose?
Women like Anne Spencer and Jean Springer have been creating their own happy places in their gardens since the beginning of time. Yet, she sheds as a named trend in pop culture are just now catching up with the well-established institution of man caves or other traditionally male pastime places.

Both reflect their owner’s purposes, needs, tastes and preferences. Some men prefer to be cocooned in a dark room with a comfy chair positioned for the best angle to the TV or lined with books. And others would rather have an entirely different set-up to suit hobbies such as woodworking or tinkering away idle hours. Their man caves are their very own space to suit their purposes.

As with men, women’s ideas for garden she sheds are as unique as they are themselves. The purpose, look and feel of Edankraal was right for Anne Spencer, and the Sugar Shack is right for Jean Springer. Others may prefer a pleasurable escape from everyday responsibilities in the form of a different kind of private place to meditate or entertain, enjoy arts or crafts or simply hang out.

She sheds may, of course, be multifunctional. My friend Clarkie Eppes and her husband Tom live in a charming renovated, expanded, and modernized 1930s log home on Fox Hill Road with beautiful landscaping, terraced gardens, and a spectacular view overlooking the James River. Her delightful she shed is a free-standing log cabin in the garden, most likely a garage originally, now converted to accommodations for living, sleeping, desk work, and dining—plus a bath and private terrace. It’s tastefully furnished with family antiques and collections and serves as a get-away for Clarkie. It also doubles/triples as a comfortable guest house for visiting grown children and short-term rental for UVA students doing rotations in family medicine in Lynchburg.

Creating Your Own
The first step after deciding on your purpose(s) is to see if existing space can be converted or adapted: a garage, tool or potting shed, a greenhouse, or kid’s play house. If not, you’ll want to explore options for a pre-fabricated, kit or custom-built structure. A simple Google search will bring up lots of options.

According to author Erica Kotite in her recently released book, She Sheds: A Room of Your Own, you can “plan on spending about $500-$1,000 to rehab an existing shed, $2,000-$5,000 to build a shed from a kit, $6,000-$15,000 for a more customized and pre-assembled kit shed and then $15,000-$35,000 for a top-of-the-line designed shed with installation and landscaping.” Of course, if you want marble floors and crystal chandeliers, you’re out of this range. Pricing is also affected if you want/need electricity, running water or appliances—or if you add HVAC and special insulation to create a multi-seasonal shed.

Next, decide on external visual appeal and internal décor. Do you want your she shed to have a consistent look with your house, à la Clarkie and Tom, or take a daring plunge and go for a big splash? If your décor style and budget say “no” to all new furnishings, why not scout around for early attic, late basement, flea market or consignment shop treasures that could be jazzed up with a fresh coat of paint? Are you yearning to have fun personalizing your space with a fanciful color combo or other touch of whimsy?

How does your she shed fit into your landscape and garden? You may want to add climbing vines or roses to surround the entryway, window boxes spilling colorful annuals, or whatever else works with your existing yard and garden design.

She Sheds Without Walls
Not all she sheds have walls. My own country cottage garden at our farm featured a gazebo that was my happy place. It was as much a she shed to me as any cleverly and artfully designed enclosed garden space. When there, I sat quietly surrounded by nature, and that was all the décor I needed. The rest of the world stood still.

I felt the cooling breeze from the mountains on a sweltering summer day as gaura danced and swayed along the fence line. I saw bluebird mamas and papas taking turns feeding their eagerly awaiting young and butterflies and hummingbirds flitting from flower to flower. I smelled antique roses and heard bees buzzing in droves on purple vitex spikes. And I savored the flavor of ripe homegrown tomatoes. It was my place of mindfulness.

It was there that I came to appreciate more deeply that my place of personal freedom and happiness can be a play house with Anne Gordon or a gazebo at the farm or even the garden bench under a canopy of viburnum at my new home at the Woodstock. A she shed in the form of a physical place can indeed provide peace and joy. As can the self-knowledge that comes from living in the moment.

Meet the Gardener
Susan Timmons served in the 1970s as Virginia’s first Environmental Impact Statement Coordinator, then Assistant Administrator and Acting Administrator of Virginia’s Council on the Environment and editor of The State of Virginia’s Environment. During that time she also served on the Board of Directors of the National Association of Environmental Professionals and received the National Wildlife Federation’s Award for Environmental Communications. More recently, she worked in higher education and nonprofit management and, in retirement, she serves as a member of the Speakers Bureau of the Hill City Master Gardeners Association with a series of talks on “Gardens of the World.”

The Question
It was May a year ago. With eyes glazed and jaw dropped, my mouth mumbled, “What? You’re inviting us to open our new home and garden for Garden Day?”

Lynchburg’s enthusiastic event co-chairman Courtney Alford repeated her invitation. In a split second, her contagious smile melted my guard and “Well, sure!” slipped out. It would take a tougher woman than I to say “no” to my friend and fellow Hillside Garden Club member, Courtney.

Besides, our club serves as local event co-sponsor of Historic Garden Week in Virginia, along with Lynchburg Garden Club. Both clubs are among the 47 statewide member clubs of the Garden Club of Virginia (GCV) committed to a common purpose and legacy.

The event highlights Virginia’s hospitality, history, and beauty, and proceeds fund the restoration and preservation of more than 40 historic public gardens and landscapes statewide, including Point of Honor here in Lynchburg, as well as a research fellowship program and a GCV centennial project with Virginia State Parks. Meg Clement, state Chairman for this 84th annual event, reported that “approximately 26,000 attendees across the state contribute economically and culturally. Recent surveys indicate that over
$11 million is spent across Virginia…with a cumulative impact of $425 million over the past 45 years.”

And the GCV members have a track record for impeccable organization and support of homeowners on the tour. So, of course, I’d do my part. Commitment made, I had less than a year to prepare.

Then It Sinks In…
Soon my own questions came flooding: Why would Garden Day visitors want to tour a second-floor condominium? (I couldn’t recall a condo ever being on the tour.) Will our small communal garden sport anything but weeds on April 25th? (I hadn’t yet seen it in spring.)
Will our Homeowners Association approve? (I didn’t know my new neighbors.)

Oh, and the Big Question: Will we have time for order to arise from the chaos of our move from our farm in Bedford County to our new home in The Woodstock? (We hadn’t even scheduled our move-in date yet!)

I wasn’t willing to concede being overwhelmed even though my mind was loaded to capacity with figuring out what to do with our accumulation of 43 years of treasures and junk that decades of living, loving, and space at the farm encouraged. With time to Garden Day (G-Day) ticking away, we stepped up our game with the help of our sons and my sister Jan Dow, who hauled a truckload to Richmond to distribute to family there.

With only Tim, Mama Cat, and me living under our roof, I counted on preparation being less stressful than the first time I opened my home and garden for G-Day in 1985 while managing a house full of teenagers, a four-year-old, and a menagerie of dogs and cats.

That was in Danville’s 1886 Penn-Wyatt House, listed on the National Register of Historic Places. This time it’s the 1917 Woodstock, designed by Stanhope Johnson and a Lynchburg Historical Foundation Merit Award recipient. Knowing that historic places with architectural appeal hold their own on Garden Day and draw the crowd reduced pressure even more.

Besides, we’re a foot stool and lap robe kind of family, comfortable surrounded by family memorabilia, including collections of folk as well as fine art from around the world. Some may consider our treasures tchotchke or worse, but we don’t have it in us to stage décor à la Architectural Digest or keep up with trend-setting decorators. So, we were ready to buckle down and prepare.

First things first, I appealed to our Homeowners Association for our neighbors’ blessing—and was warmly embraced.

Just the spark I needed to start hustling to place furniture, hang pictures, and figure out what to do with the garden.

Taking on an Established Garden
The idea of opening the Woodstock’s communal garden was daunting. I was still grieving my beloved farm garden we’d left behind and didn’t intend to start over with this one. But Meg Laughon, Elizabeth Hutter, and other trusted GCV friends convinced me that it had good bones and great potential. They, along with several new neighbors, garden guru Don Lee, and the Woodstock’s own professional landscaper Kenneth Robertson helped us take inventory, appreciate the work of previous gardeners throughout the Woodstock’s history, and consider what could and should be done to spiff up for G-Day.

We learned that previous residents were master gardeners who popped plants in every spot possible, especially plants found on sale that they nurtured into fine specimens. Ah, my kind of gardeners—more interested in rescuing plants than presenting a grand and cohesive landscape design.

Our feeling of kinship with the past century of Woodstock gardeners continued to grow. They’d planted and nurtured many of the same trees, shrubs, and perennials that we’d planted and loved at our farm, including Virginia favorites—magnolia, dogwood, maple, crepe myrtle, azalea, wisteria, lilac, snowball viburnum, tree and herbaceous peonies, and iris. A bonus was lovely mature camellias, which I’d never grown successfully before. My gardener’s heart began to beat a little faster.

I knew from my previous historic garden that when restoring an already established garden, it’s best to observe it a full year in every season before making radical changes—except for the obvious immediate tasks of removing dead, diseased or radically overgrown plant material.

Kenneth and crew removed dead tree limbs, shaped up shrubs, cleaned out debris, and started tackling a huge overgrowth of English Ivy, accumulated Magnolia leaves, and the dreaded poison ivy—which drove me out of the weeding business after a couple of wicked early spring bouts of allergic reaction.

Yet there was still much work to be done. The flower beds remained scruffy with winter and early spring bedhead, and I couldn’t tell whether some sticks were new-to-me shrubs just waiting to flesh out or last year’s perennial debris. So, patience was the order of the day.

As spring unfurled, the risk of frost diminished daily, neighbors pitched in to fill pots with boxwoods and plant annuals, and Tim and I transplanted tree and herbaceous peonies, hellebores, and more from the farm and planted a few additional varieties of Japanese maples. By then we were hooked.

Behind the Scenes
Courtney and her counterpart, local event co-chairman Lea Barksdale, epitomized GCV grace, organization and support.

They ably led an army of volunteers who aced every planning detail, including organizing the tour path, three shifts of hostesses to cover every critical juncture, and police presence. Flower chairmen, our cousins Patsy Wilkinson and Carter Bendall, orchestrated a committee of talented arrangers who created a profusion of gorgeous arrangements, upholding Lynchburg’s reputation for flower arrangements that put our G-Day on the map.

Club members answered questions, brought meals and gifts, and always showed great appreciation while I perked along happily hanging pictures, planting the garden, and enjoying stories by other Garden Day survivors. Elizabeth Hutter told me one of her garden’s matched pair of wisteria arches looked dead and dreadful the year she opened her garden for the tour. Her solution? Cut off blossoms from the other profusely blooming arch, put them in water tubes, and tape them on the barren plant. No one was the wiser, and the slow bloomer took stage center a week or so later, of course. Such are the vagaries of nature and tricks of the trade.

Another friend requested that closet doors remain closed.

Looking for the bathroom, a hostess accidently opened one of the off-limits closets to discover it piled high with sports equipment and other evidence of a full life. Facing the interloper was a big sign: “Don’t judge! I bet your closet looks like this too.”

Tales of innovative solutions to occasional G-Day glitches speak of devoted husbands schlepping guests around traffic snarls and of keeping homeowners’ floors clean and dry during pouring rain by issuing shoe booties or plastic bags at the front door, collecting them at the back door, and running them around front to reuse. I figured that no matter what the challenge, these ladies are up to it and can turn it into an amusing story!

Countdown
Glitches for us piled up the final week before G-Day: The front-room chair that for decades passed for shabby-chic suddenly degenerated into tattered-derelict. Window washing, an estimated 2-day project, turned into a complicated 5-day project. Touch-up paint didn’t match. Our old HVAC system chose an 84-degree day to die. And, the big one: Tim’s health took a turn for the worse.

Thanks to re-upholstery magic by interior decorator friend Marjorie Grabeel, multiple trips to paint stores by Love Painting’s Kameo Hunter, and rushed HVAC delivery and installation by Wooldridge Heating and Air, we slid in under the wire on G-Day eve. The chair arrived and looked great, windows were spotless and gleaming, and paint touch-ups were drying to match the walls. Half of the new HVAC was running in time to keep flowers and arrangers from wilting, with final installation complete by 9:30 p.m. Fears of G-Day visitors fainting from the heat evaporated, and Tim’s ticker was ticking. So, bring it on!

We even collected our own tale to add to G-Day lore:
As “Arranging Day” (G-Day eve) progressed, one of the arrangers commented, “You have the nicest men working for you. They were so helpful in bringing our card tables, buckets of flowers, and bags of tools upstairs for us. Did you bring them in town from your farm to help us?” It took me a minute to figure it out: Uh…no! She hadn’t noticed the pocket stitching on their shirts, “Wooldridge.”

The Big Day Arrived…
…along with chilly drizzle and rain. As hostesses reported for duty and we were leaving for the day, I flipped the AC off and gas logs on. After all, that’s what we do for a cozy day at home.

My parting words were, “Forget the plastic shoe bags. These rugs survived decades of living on our Bedford County farm with kids, grandkids, great-grandkids, dogs, cats—and red clay, food, and wine. Some are even welcoming their second Garden Day. A little rain won’t hurt.” And after 1,424 guests filed through that day, I was right. Tim and I—and our rugs, home, and garden—are all happy survivors.

My garden-loving friends know me well. We weren’t ready to say “good-bye” to gardening. The Woodstock garden and the community that shares and cares for it had found a place in our hearts. So, I’ll continue transplanting peonies, iris, hellebores, and my great-great-grandmother’s daffodils from their most recent home at the farm to The Woodstock. I know they’ll bloom where they’re planted. As will we.

Living Flower Arrangements

Have you always envied those individuals who could take just any old pot and make it become a masterpiece floral arrangement in soil? Well, Lynchburg has Master Gardeners who can teach you to pot plants in an arrangement just like the pros. I for one do not have the talent, so I am eager to learn.”

These luring words from Elsie Morris, President of the Hill City Master Gardener Association (HCMGA) landed in my email inbox a few weeks ago and reeled me in. Even though I’ve been collecting containers and potting plants in them for as long as I can remember, I’m always up for a new perspective and tips for success. And Master Gardeners Patty Butters, Diane Cooper and Laura Meniktos offered exactly that with their seminar and workshop on “Container Gardening and Fairy Gardens” at Lynchburg Grows just in time for those of us who’ve been watching the calendar and weather reports in anticipation of filling this spring’s outdoor garden containers with works of floral art—or edibles—as well as setting houseplants outside.

Catching Potted Plant Fever
Eye-catching creations of plants in containers first sparked my imagination in picturesque old European cities with charming balconies brimming with blooms and palaces where majestic urns spilled splashes of color against great masses of gray or honey-colored stone structures. Oh, yes, I recall charming pots of flowers in courtyards in Seville, window boxes in Germany, urns lush with geraniums rimming walls and other delights at cross-axis points in formal Italian gardens, and alluring combinations of plants in pots in stately gardens in the Cotswold Hills.

And I’ll never forget the obligatory line-up of lemon trees in terracotta pots in Mediterranean and other Italian gardens, or the seemingly random scattering of charming pots bursting with color in meandering country cottage gardens or carefully placed by front doors in cities with tight living spaces and small yards. It seems that not to be outdone by their forebears, Christchurch, New Zealand has serious competition and rewards for gardeners who incorporate clever and artistic use of pots in their landscapes during their annual Festival of Flowers.

Container gardening has recently gained traction here at home. Renowned garden writer and professor, Allan Armitage, author of Herbaceous Perennial Plants and Armitage’s Native Plants for North American Gardens, declared in a recent Piedmont Landscape Association Seminar in Charlottesville that container gardening is the fastest growing garden sector in the U. S. today, and that excellent space-saving “patio veggies” are now being bred for container gardening and vigor, with especially good success for potted slicer and cherry tomatoes.

What’s Not to Love About Potted Plants?
They add colorful punctuation to green landscapes layered with trees, shrubs, and ground covers—or provide a touch of living green to the built environment, inside and out. They introduce interesting shapes (such as vertical elements into horizontal gardens), and enliven balconies, patios, terraces and porches with intoxicating scents wafting over sitting areas.

Mobility is another plus, since portable pots can be moved from porch to patio or popped temporarily into party décor. And they offer the option and flexibility in choice of plant material when space constraints, poor soil, or no soil at all do not present conditions amenable to in-ground planting.

Potted tropical plants that require inside protection over the winter add a lush exotic flavor to summer outside spaces. For years, my screened back porch was the perfect summer home for my collection of potted orchids until fall’s first frost, and autumn nights outside invariably set the flower spikes for January’s indoor blooms.

Or you can plant a sequence of spring bulbs in your pots, followed by annuals when danger of frost passes. Other plant options are perennials, shrubs, trees (such as a single boxwood or Japanese maple) and herbs.

Pots are especially useful for containing perennials or herbs that tend to spread all over the garden, such as mint, or to manage other challenges. I potted all our herbs for kitchen use out of range of the lifted-leg of our little beagle every time we let him outside. A bonus was locating the pots just outside the kitchen porch door for quick and dry-footed access. And for years Tim planted his tomatoes in pots inside an abandoned fenced dog run to keep critters from eating them.

Growing plants in an enclosed space—whether large or small, grand or humble, permanently located or portable, useful or purely decorative—is the perfect solution to space constraints.

Even the smallest of front stoops can typically hold a little pot, and window boxes are sometimes an option when the building façade is flush with the sidewalk or street. Indeed, potted plants can brighten any spot, including a back alley, narrow path between buildings or window sill; strategically placed splashes of color in pots offer visual appeal with less work than in-ground gardens.

Classic and Creative Containers
Over time, potted plants have developed from the classic “lemon tree in a terracotta pot” into a highly evolved floral art form. Exciting combinations of plants and containers are endless, and most anything can be used as a container—if it drains.

You will, of course, want to consider size, shape, color, style, use and location.

Whether you choose containers that are utilitarian or decorative, be sure they suit your style and purpose and are compatible with their setting: your architecture, yard furniture and other features. An eclectic assortment of pots can be quite effective, just as an eclectic art, furniture or rug collection can reflect the owner’s taste and preferences for interior design.

For our farm, mid-sized traditional metal urns were right for flanking the entrance fence gates, while simple, functional pots worked outside the kitchen door. At the other end of the house, the idea of clustering blue ceramic urns and pots captured my fancy for our terrace entertainment area overlooking the Blue Ridge.

When considering protective potting for kitchen herbs, I searched dusty corners of the barn and discovered an old copper ham boiler. Scrounging around produced another one that Tim’s grandma had used as a tub for washing clothes over the wood-burning stove at their Indiana farm. (Yes, it had earned its holes in the bottom, and I didn’t have to pay extra for well-earned patina!) Then over time, I repurposed additional rarely-used copper pots (by drilling holes in their bottoms) and ended up with a solution that was just right for kitchen container gardening.

Remember that unglazed terracotta pots are porous and water evaporates from them more quickly than from metal or plastic ones. They can also crack if the potting mixture freezes in winter, and large ones can become too heavy to move once planted—although the weight can be a good thing for stability in windy areas.

Patty urged workshop participants to scour yard sales and Goodwill for unusual and fun cast-offs that could be spruced up to create containers and charming “fairy gardens” with tiny figures in live plant settings. Her out-of-the-box (intentional pun) thinking produced a miniature scene in a sea shell, a pirate ship, a shoe, and a child’s little red Radio Flyer wagon, each accompanied by a charming story. One of these as a birthday gift most certainly would enchant children and imaginative adults alike!

Plant with Flair and Locate Strategically
Diane stressed the three “C’s—Container, Colors, Creation” for potted plants and agreed with Patty and me in choosing a container: “Just about anything that holds soil and has (or can be given) drainage holes is fair game!” When selecting plants, consider color, shape and growing habit.
She reaffirmed rules-of-thumb I follow for creating pots with panache: Unless the container is very small (or you’re simply planting a shrub or other statement plant), add three or more complementary species: thrillers, spillers and fillers.

Thrillers include attention-getting “wow! factor” plants for height, such as spikes/dracaena; spillers, such as sweet potato vine, creeping Jenny, or ivy, cascade over the edge of the pot; and fillers can be any plant that takes up the middle ground. For an artistic arrangement, the traditional guideline for number of plants in a container is 1, 3, 5, or 7. Be sure to place the tallest plants in the center of the pot and let spillers tumble over the edge.

For strongest contrast and eye appeal, Diane prefers combinations of primary and complementary colors (yellow and purple, orange and blue, red and green), although any combination that balances color and texture is fine, even if you go for a combo such as purple and red or orange, all green, or all white—which are some of my favorites.

Choose plants for their location—sun, shade and other environmental conditions. Once again, ensure good drainage (adding permeable garden fabric, gravel, or crock pieces if needed), potting soil or other appropriate growing medium—soil-based, soilless, acidic, or alpine/free-draining, and fertilizer. Clustering pots can create a more dramatic effect, but be sure to group plants with similar sun and water requirements.

Caring for Containers
Frequency of watering is determined by plant choice (tender annuals need more, succulents need less), size and type of pot (small pots typically need more), if in sun (more) or shade (less), and time of year (more in heat of summer). In spring, fertilizing with a 10-10-10 mixture once a week will get your pots off to a good start. With experience, you can tell by the condition of the leaves if they need more (or less) sun, water and fertilizer. And experience is gained only by giving it a whirl. So, let’s go for gorgeous potted plants this season!

…At The Old City Cemetery

Old City Cemetery’s 27-acre public garden includes the largest public collection of antique roses in the state of Virginia.

This spring, see the beautiful blooms for yourself during the 22nd Annual Antique Rose Festival. Get the best selection of this year’s inventory on Saturday, April 15. The festival also includes workshops and guided rose tours in May. View the full schedule at www.gravegarden.org. Photo Courtesy of Old City Cemetery

So, what is ikebana anyway? It’s where East meets West in an art form. A spiritual practice. A channel for connecting with nature. A mental and physical discipline of concentration. A proven meditation practice and stress reliever. It’s about being here and now. And it’s pronounced EE KAY’ BAH NAH. But what IS it, and what does it have to do with gardening?

Philosophy and History
The Japanese characters for the word ikebana most simply translate into “arranging flowers,” but it’s much more than how we Westerners often define flower arranging as making attractive groupings of cut flowers and other plant material for pleasure and to enhance our surroundings. Ikebana is that too. Plus, it goes deeper. It’s a way of communing spiritually with our physical environment through understanding the natural world of seasonal cycles, flowers, and other plant material—and becoming more fully aware of our own nature as humans in the natural order of life.

It is rooted in the concept of spiritual enlightenment central to Zen Buddhist philosophy. While the very word ikebana is Japanese, the practice of ikebana originally came from India and China to Japan over 600 years ago, and it remained for centuries the exclusive province of priests and royalty.
Interest in ikebana expanded from Buddhist ritual to secular art form by mid-17th century and then spread geographically around the world. Aided by ease of travel and speed of communications, a robust following has emerged worldwide.

Schools of Ikebana
Numerous schools of ikebana focus on different aspects of the art form, with the oldest, the Ikenobo School, dating back about 500 years. My firsthand encounters with this school of ikebana were at its birthplace at the Rokkaku-do Temple in Kyoto, Japan in the late 1960s and again in the 1980s. An ikebana temple arrangement featuring a massive construction of logs was so inspiring that I later captured its essence in an etching,
Kyoto Arrangement II.

The Ohara School, founded in 1912 (or up to 50 years earlier, per other sources), is now claimed by many as the foremost authentic school of ikebana after the Ikenobo School, emphasizing the importance of closely observing seasonal aspects of nature and valuing the beauty of natural environments. When I visited London’s Hampton Court Palace Flower Show (the largest flower show in England) in 2012, an entire section of the rose marquee was devoted to ikebana arrangements representing the Ohara School.

I once took a class at the Ohara School of Ikebana in Tokyo that combined philosophy with strict rules and rulers to ensure exact proportions. It was a bit intimidating and tedious for this free-form, broad-brush gal, albeit the beginning point in learning this new discipline, I concede.

The Ichiyo, Sangetsu, and Sogetsu Schools join the Ikenobo and Ohara Schools with global following. The Sogetsu School, formed in 1926 with the philosophy that ikebana should expand beyond Japan, is today the largest and best known internationally. This school believes that ikebana is to be appreciated by people from all cultures all over the world, rather than remaining exclusively Japanese.

I witnessed this inclusivity at the Festival of Flowers in Christchurch, New Zealand, which featured intriguing free-form arrangements and installations through Ikebana International to promote “friendship through flowers.”

Ikebana International was founded in 1956 by the late Ellen Gordon Allen, “…to create an organization uniting the peoples of the world through their mutual love of nature and enjoyment of ikebana.”

Its website, www.ikebanahq.org, notes 161 chapters in 50 countries with approximately 7,600 members. Ikebana is now in Virginia in Northern Virginia, Virginia Beach, and Richmond. Ikebana of Richmond (www.ikebanaofrichmondva.org) holds monthly meetings at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden that feature certified demonstrators, classes and workshops.

The Art of Arranging
It’s no surprise that ikebana requires carefully considered and immaculately fresh plant material. Withered leaves, flowers or fruit may be used only as an intentional part of the concept of the arranger in making a statement featuring that stage of the life cycle of the plant. The arranger can combine unlikely plant material (dried twigs or surprising combinations of shapes and colors) to convey a message or an emotion—and can also include objects such as rocks, driftwood, or even metal or plastic.

Ikebana can even feature just one plant, such as bamboo for an assemblage (as in the construction pictured on page 87). As my friend Janice Berkley, who also studied ikebana in Japan, says, “…they can be quite elaborate, but they need not be. Whatever you have that speaks to you is a possibility!
This makes ikebana less intimidating.”

Isn’t creating ikebana beginning to sound like the fun we had as children when gathering wildflowers, interesting rocks, and other found objects and arranging them on our bedroom dressers?

Ikebana avoids formal symmetry, and the arranger thoughtfully considers negative space: where not to place plant material as well as where to place it. And combinations of shapes and colors can certainly seem odd and discordant compared to traditional Western principles of design and color in the Western tradition of arranging flowers in harmoniously colorful masses or lines.

If thinking in Western terms, consider contemporary ikebana as something Picasso might have created after his departure from traditional painting. For some, it’s an acquired taste. For me, each arrangement is an exciting work of art that encourages the creator and viewer to consider nature and the visual world in challenging and exciting ways. As an art form, ikebana is more like performance art—ephemeral, expected to return to the earth after making a powerfully evocative statement that rises from a discipline of the inner spirit.

Arrangement Styles
Among the plethora of ikebana styles, let’s start with the basics of two historic styles practiced by the Sogetsu School: moribana and nageire.
Moribana is the upright style with three primary elements or lines representing heaven (shin), man (soe), and earth (hikae) as the innate symbolism of ikebana. They are positioned in varying heights according to formula (here’s where the ruler comes in) in a flat, low container and held in place by a spiked frog (kenzan); and while shin is upright, the other two are angled in the round so the arrangement does not appear flat. Or the entire composition can slant. In either case, it’s important to camouflage the kenzan with plant material, stones or in other creative ways.

Basic nageire arrangements are natural or casual looking in vertical containers, hence the translation of being called “thrown in.” Yet, they’re anything but thrown in. Rather, they are carefully and artfully assembled with traditional cross-bar mechanics (or currently any way that works) to hold the elements in place. The heaven, man and earth concepts still preside. But in today’s world, anything goes!

Ikebana 101: Let’s Try One!
It’s not hard. It just requires you to put aside your daily concerns and move into a creative zone: First, think about what plant material and containers (and perhaps other objects) to use. What’s growing in your yard or other places where you may gather? Look at it carefully. How does it speak to you?

Here are a few simple attempts of my own that I hope will give you the idea (see photos). It was winter, and I was longing for spring, so I chose branches that I knew I could force to bloom inside to tell the message of approaching spring. Oh, and it helps me to create haiku poems (5-7-5 syllables) to aid in focusing on my message. Here goes:

#1 Spring Arising
Quince sings heaven’s song
While aucuba braves earth’s chill:
We bow low in praise

What I was thinking: Quince branches forced to bloom indoors in winter reach upward toward heaven, paralleling the uplifted arms in the stained-glass window next to the arrangement. Stalwart aucuba leaves, representing earth, remain firm throughout winter months. We humans, hothouse flowers like orchids, pay homage to heaven and earth.

#2 Forced Flowering
Dangling golden charms
Add bling to copper and jade:
Spring’s jewel box opens.

What I was thinking: Fantail Willow catkins are early blooming flowers (inflorescence) that brighten winter’s brown and green landscape and foretell the multitude of jewel-tone spring blooms to come. Glossy green magnolia leaves with velvety copper undersides symbolize man’s outer shell, yet inner tenderness; arranged in a fired clay pot with trailing ivy reaching for earth.

#3 Saucy Saucers
Stealing stage center
Eager to please, always zapped
Spring frost says, “Tricked you!”

What I was thinking: Saucer Magnolia puts on its early spring show of beautiful blossoms before the last frost, which inevitably kills the blooms. These blooms force easily indoors, as shown in this winter arrangement, where they are paired with a casual cluster of winter jasmine.

Want to learn more?
This is the year for getting hooked on ikebana right here at home in Lynchburg! Opera on the James (www.operaonthejames.org) will feature ikebana at Madama Butterfly’s Garden Cabaret, along with kimonos, lanterns, Japanese art (on display and at auction) and more, on Saturday, April 22 at the Academy Center of the Arts. Then on April 25, Lynchburg’s Garden Day will also include ikebana at all houses (including our own) as part of the Garden Club of Virginia’s annual Historic Garden Tour (www.vagardenweek.org).

Give it a whirl and see how ikebana can become a way of more deeply understanding nature and your garden. A way of personal philosophical and artistic expression. And a way of melding cultures and celebrating worldwide respect and friendship.

Story and Photos by Susan Timmons

Feeding Body and Soul

Miss Minnie brought us eggs from her backyard chickens.

Curles Neck Dairy delivered bottles of milk from nearby county cows to our back porch. And Farmer John’s rusty pick-up rumbled through the alley behind our house with fresh veggies for sale.

The butcher and grocer at neighborhood Stonewall Market (where delivery was an option) rounded out the basic food groups for our table. This was the food delivery system of my childhood in the city of Richmond. This was before agri-business and super market chains took over.

Waste Not, Want Not and Third-World Nutrition
Mom regularly referenced “Starving Armenians” when admonishing my sisters and me to eat every morsel placed before us (like it or not). Despite only vague awareness of where these poor people were starving (or what we could do about it), I grasped her point that we weren’t to take the privilege of three wholesome meals a day for granted. First-hand experience with those struggling for nutritious meals in less well-fed neighborhoods of our own city came later through Girl Scout, school, and church service projects.

But inadequate nutrition didn’t really wrench my heart until I lived in Korea for two years in the ’60s (then a third-world country).

It dug even deeper into my soul when working more recently in small villages in Malawi, Africa (one of the poorest countries in the world) on several mission trips. With my own eyes, I witnessed the gnawing struggle for food through seasonal subsistence farming in community gardens—pooling resources, labor and sparse produce.

Maize (corn)-based nsima (pronounced see’-ma) is the starchy staple for Malawians. When supply is short, help comes from nearby Zambia—and from around the globe through The World Food Bank—with donated corn, rice, soybeans and more from Spain, Saudi Arabia, Japan, the U.S. and other countries. Seeing this, I understood community gardening on a global scale: A global community of gardeners in spirit—caring, growing and sharing.

Growing food locally to feed the hungry globally. Thank you, Mom, for teaching me not to take food for granted.

Delivery Systems and Food Deserts
As still practiced in Malawi, community gardens supplied food for people since man evolved from “hunter-gatherers” to “local growers” many millennia ago. Then people gravitated to cities, our agrarian economy in the U.S. gave way to urbanization and industrialization, and more centralized agriculture and large grocery stores became the norm, with notable exceptions such as WWII Victory Gardens—promoted by the government to bring our nation together. A swift post-WWII rise in agribusiness, mass-produced foods, and mega-grocery conglomerates, convenience stores, and fast food chains, brings us to today’s efficient and economically viable food delivery system, despite a brief resurgence of community gardens in the U.S in the 1970s inspired by the environmental movement.

But there’s a downside: Agribusiness and grocery conglomerates have not solved the problem of dietary deficiencies in lower socio-economic neighborhoods. In fact, they have exacerbated it. Results of a 2011 study by my former colleague in the Economics department of Randolph College, Professor John Abell, and others on Inner City Food Deserts in Lynchburg, suggest that “downtown Lynchburg is indeed a food and pharmaceutical desert.”

Grocery chains locate where profits are greatest. Business 101.
So, with Lynchburg’s 24 percent poverty rate, many poor residents live in neighborhoods without healthful food markets. I remember when Food Lion pulled the plug on its Bedford Avenue store leaving those without cars looking for bus routes to buy reasonably priced, healthful food. Grocery chains as their food delivery system had failed them.

Granted, we have a thriving community farmers’ market, as well as churches, service groups, and charities. We have Daily Bread, Meals on Wheels, Gateway and others to help feed those in need, so we aren’t reminded of poverty and starvation by dramatic images of skeletal people dying on the side of the road. Yet lack of access to healthful food is linked to an insidious illness here. And it kills.

People living in food deserts—without neighborhood food markets or transportation to healthful groceries—tend to walk to the corner convenience store to grab fast food, chips, candy and sodas to fuel their day. Then what? Poor nutrition. Obesity. Diabetes. And other social ills.

Buses and Beyond
Fortunately, our city has improved bus routes to markets.

Other successful efforts include educational school programs and gardens run by the Hill City Master Gardener Association (HCMGA), under the auspices of the Virginia Cooperative Extension (VCE).

But this still isn’t enough. Buses aren’t necessarily the answer for parents corralling a passel of kids, the disabled struggling to schlep groceries home, or shut-ins; and school programs aren’t putting three square meals on the table for these kids every day. Taking it a step further, the HCMGA established community gardens at the Boys and Girls Club, Jubilee Center, Juvenile Detention Center, and more—
so kids can understand where their food comes from, cultivate and harvest a garden, and take fresh produce home.

The answer seems to be community gardens—currently defined as “any piece of land gardened by a group of people.” In some early-adopter, high-density cities, such as San Francisco, a rental garden plot in a premier community garden has a waiting list of many years.

Increasing reliance on these gardens is generating enthusiasm and traction as a movement across the U.S, and state land-grant university extension agents are actively promoting them.

Our own VCE agent, Kevin Camm, is passionately promoting community gardens across our city. And broader efforts are underway to develop a regional agricultural strategic plan for a systemic stable supply and access to affordable, healthful food delivery systems, especially in low-income neighborhoods.

The “How To” For Success
The “Nuts and Bolts” for establishing successful community gardens include bringing together the right partners, sponsors, funders, budget and neighborhood leaders—and a relentless drive for success.

Commitment, cooperation and collaboration are the three critical “C’s”—and we’re seeing our city, VCE, HCMGA, Randolph College, Lynchburg Grows, churches (such as St. John’s Episcopal, Holy Trinity Lutheran and Quaker Memorial Presbyterian), Camp Kum-Ba-Yah, private landowners, and more all coming together to make it work. The HCMGA community garden at Humankind is on the horizon after countless hours of putting these three “C’s” into practice, plus many hours of on-the-ground effort by Master Gardener Richard Givens and other volunteers. This garden will offer everyone in our community a rental plot (San Francisco style) to grow vegetables, fruits, or flowers, and it will serve as an educational center to show people the “how to” as well as provide food preservation demonstrations.

Lynchburg’s Department of Parks and Recreation maintains gardens on city properties and a general directory of “What’s in My Neighborhood”—and they just won a statewide award for encouraging healthier eating. Much of the credit goes to cooperative efforts spearheaded by Parks and Rec employees, Howard Covey and Lucy Hudson, who are also Master Gardeners.

Land for community gardens may be rented, borrowed or owned. Randolph College maintains an organic community garden with plots on request. In some community gardens, such as The Veggie Spot on Lynchburg’s Daniel’s Hill, neighborhood leaders came together on a vacant lot to garden and share the produce with fellow neighbors. The success of this garden, as all neighborhood gardens, is in the passion and “sweat-equity” of the people who live there.

Organizational considerations include agreement on methodology, design, physical layout, membership/labor (including regular watering and weeding), membership rules/fees, and distribution of produce, conflict resolution among participants, neighbors and vandalism. Horticultural decisions must, of course, address water, soil, sunlight, plant choice, security, pest control and all the other factors any garden requires.

The Spirit of Community
In addition to feeding the needy, community gardens serve a multitude of purposes, including educational, entrepreneurial, job training and therapy. The communal garden at the Pearson Cancer Center provides focus and hope for the future for patients and their families. The Awareness Garden provides scholarships to assist students whose lives have been impacted by cancer or who plan to work in a cancer-related field. And Lynchburg Grows has given much to our community through remarkably successful entrepreneurial and training programs for youth, disabled and low-income residents; running a food co-op; sending a food truck—or “Veggie Van”—out to take produce to food deserts and more.

The communal garden behind our new home in a condominium at The Woodstock is a peaceful sanctuary for residents to read a book, breathe fresh air and enjoy a sunny day, or give a pet dog some outdoor time. As a newcomer, I look forward to discovering what’s blooming this spring and getting to know my neighbors as we prepare to share our communal garden for Garden Day in Lynchburg on April 25th.

Community gardens are about proven food delivery systems, improving health, developing productive use of eyesore vacant lots or otherwise underutilized land, and building community spirit.

They can be a global effort to feed the starving or a local effort to bring fresh and nutritious produce to our neighbors—or a flower garden to attract pollinators and feed our souls. They’re about people coming together to take care of each other. It’s good to return to the old-fashioned way of doing things of my childhood.

by Susan Timmons

Flowers are the great equalizer.

The great common denominator.

I’m quite sure this is at the root of why I love them so. Oh, I, like most everyone else, prize flowers for their appeal to my senses and role in our ecosystem. But in traveling the world, I’ve also been touched by their symbolic meaning in cultural and religious creeds, traditions and rituals.

Despite the broad spectrum of differences in culture, politics and religion that too often divide humans, flowers are almost universally entwined in religious and spiritual beliefs in positive ways. According to some, they are revered primarily as God’s beautiful creation; for others they symbolize God or gods or spiritual practices themselves.

They are often symbols of what we humans hold in common to be right and good in this world: love, virtue, respect, hope. And they serve as metaphors for basic human aspirations such as fertility or prosperity. Many religions feature flowers in art and architecture toward both symbolic and decorative ends, and some offer them as tangible gifts to God as part of their rites of worship.

Rites and Rituals
Islamic traditions include roses in marriages, as well as dye from flowers of the henna plant to decorate the hands and feet of brides as a symbol of fertility and good fortune. And Islamic funerals often feature jasmine and a sprinkling of rose water on new graves. Extensive and intricate floral patterns embellish Islamic art and architecture.

In Hinduism, flowers play a more prominent role, with the primary prayer rite called puja (Sanskrit for the act of worship), translated into English as “the flower act.” The lotus flower is associated with divinity, piety, beauty, and fertility. The Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad Gita, instructs followers to be pure and detached like the lotus. Other specific flowers relate to specific gods or rituals, and weddings and funerals often feature jasmine garlands.

The lotus is also central to Buddhism and symbolizes the highest level of spiritual elevation that man can possibly reach. The lotus flower is a metaphor for knowledge and enlightenment and is depicted in much of Buddhist artwork, often with Buddha sitting on an open lotus flower.
The spiritual practice of Yoga has a major branch, Hatha Yoga, in which a posture called the lotus position, padmasana (also Sanskrit), is adopted by devotees striving to reach the highest level of consciousness.

In Chinese religions such as Taoism, flowers are metaphors for life, happiness and fertility. Peonies and daffodils are symbols of spring and renewed life, and the lotus flower symbolizes morality, purity, wisdom, and harmony.

Judeo-Christian Traditions
Flowers are featured in wedding ceremonies worldwide. They are also usually welcome in funeral observances except in Judaism, in which (at least in orthodox traditions), food baskets of Kosher items are typically more appropriate. Judeo-Christian traditions consider flowers among the most beautiful and pleasurable of God’s creations and symbolize the glory of the Garden of Eden before man’s fall from grace.

In his Divine Comedy, Dante speaks of Paradise after life: “…the beautiful garden which blossoms under the radiance of Christ…There is the rose, in which the divine word became flesh; here are the lilies whose perfume guides you in the right ways.” Dante also depicts the final, eternal World in Heaven “in the form of a resplendent white rose.”

Flowers symbolize numerous aspects of the Christian religion, such as the white Madonna lily (lilium candidum) as a symbol of purity. Red roses stand for Christ’s blood and for love. Roses are especially prominent in Catholic symbolism—with the Virgin Mary honored as a “rose without thorns” and the form of devotion called the rosary. In my church, Lynchburg’s First Presbyterian, a single red rose bud is placed on the baptismal font to celebrate the birth of every new baby in our congregation.

Protestant Practices
In Christian weddings flowers are an important accoutrement, and brides typically carry a bouquet of flowers down the aisle. Funerals are also a time for celebrating the life of the deceased with flowers.

The tradition among many churches is to decorate the sanctuary, narthex and other parts of the church with fresh flower arrangements, especially on significant liturgical days such as Easter and Christmas. However, in the interest of time and expense, a growing number of Protestant congregations have moved away from this tradition—or increasingly rely on artificial flowers.

Parishioners and congregations that continue to adhere to the practice of decorating their churches with fresh flowers and greens typically maintain an altar, chancel, or flower guild (or committee) to plan, organize and manage flowers as an expression of their devotion, as an offering of their gifts of time and talent to the Glory of God, and to serve as an inspiration to fellow worshipers.

Altar, Chancel and Flower Guilds
My friend Anne McKenna, who co-chairs the Flower Guild at Lynchburg’s St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, shared a quip from internationally renowned flower-arranging expert, Gay Estes, author of The Church Ladies’ Guide to Divine Flower Arranging, “Flowers are a gift from God; unfortunately, he doesn’t arrange them.” So Anne and her co-chair, Rod Meeks, manage a group of devoted arrangers, hold flower-arranging workshops to encourage parishioners to join them, and make general appeals that bring out men, women and children to take on all the jobs (including sweeping the floor) it takes to fill the church with flowers for festival days. After holding back on flowers during Lenten season, they go all out for Easter and celebrate with glorious fresh spring flowers everywhere.

We at First Presbyterian have an established, on-going Chancel Guild with monthly teams responsible for fresh flower arrangements in the sanctuary, narthex and entrance foyer every Sunday. Our co-chairs, Becky O’Brian and Betsy Burton, gather us all together to decorate more extensively at Easter and Christmas. We surround our Advent candles with a wreath of evergreen boughs, representing God’s continuous love and the soul’s immortality, and we prepare fresh evergreens for our “Hanging of the Greens” service. Dozens of live poinsettias also grace the Sanctuary in honor or memory of loved ones.

Another friend, Meg Laughon, notes that her church, Rivermont Evangelical Presbyterian, focuses on the joys of nature and celebrates each season by arranging fresh flowers and greens from members’ gardens. We at First Presbyterian also use bounty from our gardens both to share God’s gifts in our community and hold down expenses.

My assigned month for the Chancel Guild is always January, and I enjoy gathering sticks, rocks, mosses and other gifts from nature for an arrangement—or forcing quince, saucer magnolia and other early spring blooming shrubs and trees or sharing my indoor orchids that bloom each winter.

Getting Started
Arranging flowers as a ministry builds community and friendships among worshipers and presents avenues for expression of artistry. We laugh and share our lives and skills as we learn and create.

And that brings us to the ‘how’ of arranging church flowers. Flower arrangements can be as elaborate and daunting or as simple and inviting as you and your church wish. At one end of the spectrum we are awed by huge and grand arrangements at The National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. and at the other we find joy in small and sweet roadside bouquets at tiny country churches.

First, decide where you land on this continuum and your available resources (people, time, money, available flowers) and if you need an organized system or only one or two devotees. Then decide on location and scale of arrangements to best suit your church and where and when the actual arranging will take place. And be sure to meet with your clergy to understand your church calendar, festival and other special days, and what kind of arrangements are appropriate for each.

Design and Mechanics
Basic principles of design rule flower arrangements, as they do any other form of art. Rhythm, contrast, dominance, scale, proportion and balance all are considerations. Mechanics and techniques of flower arrangements have filled many books and workshops, as well as inspiring Gay Estes with:
A Church Arranger’s Prayer

Oh Lord,
Please don’t let my flowers wilt,
My lilies stain the vestments
Or my vase leak.
May the Altar Guild not fight
Over who gets to do the altar
And who must do the pews.
Let my arrangement neither fall,
Nor catch fire from the candles. Amen

Starting simple and adding complexity is always a good rule of thumb. Just remember that flowers are a gift from God, and our gift is our behind-the-scenes talent and work to share them in uplifting arrangements in God’s House. Every time I go into our sacristy at First Presbyterian to prepare arrangements for the upcoming Sunday, I look up and once again silently repeat the simple little prayer taped to the cupboard above the sink:
Flower Arranger’s Prayer

May God Grant that our hearts
Our eyes and our hands may
Receive His inspiration,
Enabling us to glorify
His House with the beauty of
Of the leaves and blossoms
Which He has created. Amen
(author unknown)

As we celebrate our faith with our love of flowers, we are reminded that our gifts of flowers are about glorifying God, and we are grateful that they are the great equalizer—the common denominator with kindred souls around the world who also share flowers in their own way, according to their own faith and spirituality.

Amen

by Susan Timmons

My dear garden,
You taught me to slow down and rejoice in “All Things Bright and Beautiful”—foliage in lime- and blue-greens. And back-lit blossoms glowing in butter yellows, shocking pinks and fire-engine reds. You taught me to glory too in soft pastels, delicate ephemerals and peach and periwinkle sunsets that frame you. And, my garden, you taught me to revel in the infinite shapes, sizes and growth habits of the thousands of plants that grace you.

You taught me to inhale deeply and savor your aroma of freshly-turned soil, lavender and basil by the kitchen door. You taught me to be still and patient to recognize the distinct buzz of bees and hummingbirds and the chorus of songs of other wild birds and coyotes. Your buds and sprouts have roused me every spring from winter’s lethargy, and you taught me to understand what it means to live in the moment.

You preach peace and harmony, and I learned that the beauty and truth in every little flower inoculates me from infection of life’s ugliness, hate and heartache.

A 22-Year Love Affair
I jumped into our relationship with all I had—decked out in my son Reid’s decades-old ratty camp shorts and tees, brandishing shovel and trowel. Armed with dreams, passion and a previous taste of success from restoring a historic garden, I was ready to repurpose a half-acre or so of trampled-down former cow pasture of good old Bedford County red clay to stir you to life.

My secret weapons were a strong body and will and a propensity for playing in dirt and mud with zero pride in fancy fingernails. (Was it Dennis the Menace who said, “Gardens are a chance for grown-ups to dig in the dirt?”) I chiseled into the brick-hard earth for a makeover into what you are today, our beloved country cottage garden.

And my husband Tim co-shouldered my vision, thankfully taking on roles I most dislike: chemical application (the very idea made my hair stand on end) and dragging away to the compost bins or burn pile the mountains of weeds and debris I cleared from your beds so you could breathe and grow and not be strangled or starved by interlopers.

We poured gallons of sweat-equity into bringing you to life, and we even became Master Gardeners and learned more about pesticides and herbicides and other “how to” tips about soil and plant location and care to be sure we were treating you right. And you thrived and became our joy.

Yin Yang Gardeners
At first, Tim and I discovered we’re Yin Yang gardeners. He’s a turf and trees kind of guy. I’m a flowers and more flowers kind of gal. He’s a formal symmetry with matching halves and 90-degree-angles kind of guy. I’m an organic, free-flowing, inspired-by-the-land and heaven-knows-what-will-strike-my-artistic-fancy sort of gal.

This difference could have spelled trouble for you (and us), dear garden. But that didn’t happen. Tim and I each had our half, and the welfare of the whole became our common ground. Over time I grew to enjoy the simple, uncomplicated order of his front yard plan, while he admired the creativity and excitement of my design in your sinuous, flower-laden beds and ever-changing borders and off-beat garden art in the back.

And you became a family affair with sons and their families pitching in to spruce up for granddaughter Jessica’s garden wedding and other times when needed. Thank you, dear garden, for helping us to grow in our family love and relationships—and arbitration skills.

Mother Nature Rules
The most important horticulture lesson I’ve learned from you is not to fight Mother Nature. She rules. No matter what we gardeners do to thwart her, Mother Nature wins in the long run, and we need to heed her lessons. (If you’ll indulge me in religious digression, this is a “Lord God Who Made Them All” thing.)

I’ve learned that it takes more time and effort than I can muster to force some varieties of exotic plants into our habitat. I confess I’m done with energy-draining drama queens, whether people or plants. If they’re still not happy after I’ve cajoled and catered to them, I know I don’t have the right stuff to pull it off, and I’m happy to concede them to more amenable environments and formidable friends.

Hence, although I tried mightily to feature antique roses in your midst, many of them sadly succumbed to raw winters on our windy hill, derecho or rose rosette disease. The inverse of this pain was Mother Nature’s inspiration to replace lost roses with native plants that don’t require amended soil or even watering.

My eyes opened to the beauty of pasture and roadside wildflowers and other natives in local nurseries; and, dear garden, I became a believer that a plant is no longer a weed when it’s where you want it. So we became a happily blended family of common Virginia natives (including Tim and me) co-existing with high-brow exotics.

Credit Where Credit’s Due
Dear garden, you know how I demur whenever someone flatters me by saying I have a green thumb or some sort of gift for gardening. It just ain’t so. Well… maybe I could claim 10 percent of a green thumb by default (i.e., paying attention to The Laws of Nature and the lessons of horticulture experts), but the other 90 percent is a combo of trial-and-error and a long list of fails and discouraging moments for every success and glorious blossom.

You taught me that gardeners must be resilient and adaptable. We’ve learned that plants aren’t pieces of furniture perfectly arranged according to little circles on a designer’s template. The landscape changes. Trees grow and sunny spots become shady. Borders are engulfed by larger plants behind them.

You taught me the heartbreak of seeing plants eaten by predators, falling to disease or disaster or dying for unknown reasons despite our best efforts. Remember when our chocolate vine shot up like Jack’s beanstalk and grew so heavy it took down the Purple Martin house along with its concrete-embedded pole—and squashed you?

I’ve learned from you that gardeners simply can’t be perfectionists. We are humble workers who learn as we go along, and you reward us with your bounty. And your blooms and produce keep us hooked despite deer damage and fear of tick-borne human disease. As for me, I know my place: I’m not the real gardener, I’m just your keeper, as poet Anne Spencer so eloquently reminds us.

Vexation and Nightgown Gardening
We have made sweet music together despite occasionally hitting a few sour notes. We’ve shared successes and failures from show-stopping blooms to ludicrous bloopers, heartwarming family reunions to sunflower-devouring groundhogs, pollinator paradise to freeze-killed hydrangeas. Throughout it all, we’ve grown together, and you’ve fed us as much as we’ve fed you.

While singing your praises, a couple of our unforgettable fails come to mind. Such as when I was invited to show you off to a Garden Club of Virginia group and discovered the morning of the tour that black spot had overtaken your roses (sort of like discovering your kid has head lice on the first day of kindergarten). And, of course, most other plants I expected to bloom that week were still in tight buds and postponed their show until the following week. Repeat: Mother Nature Rules.

And you seduced me into another embarrassing moment that’s indelibly stuck in my memory. Living on an isolated (or so I thought) farm without “drop-in company,” I fell into the habit of breakfast on the terrace in my nightgown, followed by a stroll around your beds over coffee to survey your beauty and weeding needs of the day. But, dear garden, once again you lured me under your spell as I leaned down to pluck an offending pokeberry, fell into the zone and weeded the whole bed. And then your next bed called my name.

Hours later, as my dirty hands swiped sweat from my brow and mud streaked across my face and gossamer gown, I looked up to see a mirage. Oh, no. It wasn’t. I locked eyes with two clean-cut young men in black suits, crisp white shirts and sincere ties with papers (religious tracts?) in their hands. With eyes big as saucers and mouths agape, even more mortified than I, they turned on their heels and ran back 100 yards to the end of our driveway and sped away. I’m sure our house now has a big “X–crazy lady” on their map. And I learned yet another lesson—to dress for al fresco breakfasts.

Everything in Its Season
Your lessons are both profound and mundane, dear garden, and we have learned them. We know full-well there’s a season for everything. And we know the time has come to prepare for your winter season as we move into town and prepare to face the winter of our lives. It’s now time to give someone else the privilege of being your keeper. I know you will once again bud up next spring and enrich their lives as brightly and beautifully as you have ours.

With joy, gratitude and a lump in my throat,
Susan

Words and Photos by Susan Timmons

When steamy summer days settle in, the fun is over for some gardeners. It’s time to duck off to the beach or tuck into air-conditioned houses.

But not so for this gardener. Admittedly, it’s sticky business keeping up with watering, weeding, deadheading and clearing debris from spent perennials to make way for the succession of acts in summer’s spectacular flower show. Lady-like “glistening” doesn’t come close to capturing the sweaty, earthy look I sport after a few hours of summer garden labor. So if you join me as a summer gardener, remember to drink lots of water and pause for frequent cool-down breaks as you orchestrate the show.

And the glorious show is well worth the work! Summer gardens boast a breathtaking array of blooms in a riot of exuberant colors, sizes and shapes, as well as abundant edible yield.

But before getting carried away by summer’s bounty, let’s backtrack and start with the garden’s bones. The key to a successful landscape isn’t simply lush greens and colorful flowers to catch the eye. It’s the structural framework that organizes our plant material and transforms it into a cohesive visual delight. Some structural elements are natural—large trees or rocks, a pond or steep slope; some are constructed—walls, fences, terraces, pools, pathways, gazebos, arbors and seating groups. Some pre-exist and define garden options; some are added.

So how do we go about creating good, strong “bones” for an effective garden design?

Purpose of the Garden
First, our design must meet our needs and goals—what we want from our garden. Looking back through time, we recall simple and functional layouts of kitchen gardens for culinary and medicinal purposes.

Polar opposite goals were boasted by majestic Renaissance gardens of European castles and palaces, such as the Boboli Gardens in Florence and Sudeley Castle in England. And modern-day gardens may seek to fulfill multiple purposes: aesthetic pleasure, personal enjoyment, respite, environmental sustainability and more.

Climate, Terrain and Horticultural Requirements
Whatever the purpose, garden structure is dictated by what we can actually grow in our climate and the size and topography of the space—whether it’s flat or hilly, sunny or shady, wet or dry, windy or sheltered. And we need to amend the soil to suit our plant choices.

We also want to look at how our terrain relates to the surrounding landscape. If it offers the borrowed beauty of a breathtaking vista of mountains or a neighbor’s garden, we’ll certainly want our layout to take best advantage of these attributes. Or a fence or “green screen” can hide a less appealing view.

Boundaries and Surfaces
Property lines, location of the house, other structures and driveways establish garden boundaries. We may also install fences or walls to protect our property from interlopers, winds, or unsightly views, to create microclimates, or purely for aesthetic reasons.
Within our parameters, we can design new shapes and spaces and modify existing ones by subdividing into several smaller gardens. In my backyard, I have a gazebo garden, sunbather sculpture garden, barn garden, St. Francis garden, kitchen garden, and…well, you get the point. Garden boundaries beg to be changed. Every year, I add a new garden or expand an old one in search of more sun or shade, for new plant varieties, or by redesigning a border curve or pathway.

Lawns remain a staple in Central Virginia, although the current national trend is toward more naturalistic planting design with native plants or wildflowers in lieu of expanses of turf. Other trends include using wood chips, gravel or pebbles to create breathing spaces between heavily planted areas and installing permeable surfaces for driveways and terraces to eliminate excess surface water runoff into our storm sewers, streams and rivers. If you’re not already a convert, you may want to explore these trends and become part of the fast-growing “sustainable landscapes” movement.

Culture, Style and Taste
The next step is to consider basic historic garden designs and choose your own personal style. Your preference may be a Persian or Islamic garden divided into a perfectly symmetrical pattern of four equal sectors with channeled water as a critical element for both irrigation and aesthetics. Or you may be drawn to Chinese and Japanese garden designs that are no less controlled, but offer a more organic, curvy and naturalistic asymmetrical design—or the Zen garden with rocks, moss and raked stones.

Other design choices, influenced by the Renaissance period in Europe, also feature geometrical, rectilinear and axial plans.
The backbone of the classical Italian garden is a central axis with cross-axes leading to sculptural focal points, and evergreen plants are used to form patterned knots or parterres. These, as with Persian gardens, may be filled with flowering plants, such as roses, or left open.

Perhaps you’d even like to try your hand at creating a human-scale version of a grand and formal French Renaissance or Baroque garden with elaborate highly-stylized parterres, topiaries, and espaliered trees and shrubs pruned into improbable shapes and sizes that defy nature.

But a less rigid, more relaxed approach seems to be the mainstay of our local aesthetic. Most local gardens tend to take their cues from the English landscape garden style popularized by Lancelot “Capability” Brown, Gertrude Jekyll’s “garden rooms” with overflowing herbaceous borders, and noted Southern landscape architect Charles Gillette.

Should you prefer a more modern, minimalist garden style featuring little more than sleek lines of hardscaping in stone, hardwood or rendered walls, the planting style is simple with a few drifts of one or two plants, such as interesting ornamental grasses, to highlight summer bounty.
For today’s gardener, anything goes. We are free to choose formal or informal, traditional or modern designs—or an eclectic style. Taste is personal, so we home gardeners can design what feels right for us.

Putting It All Together
Experts advise developing a long-term plan and detailed strategy and then placing plant “bones”—trees, evergreen hedges, anchor plants. We can create our own design and plant it ourselves or hire professional landscapers for challenging areas. I’ve done both.
If we are unsure of soil conditions or what to plant, we can always seek free advice from the Hill City Master Gardener Association (434-455-3740; www.hcmga.com).

When planning, we want to define circulation patterns and areas for living, playing and other functions—some practical and some purely sensory. We’ll want to select materials complementary to our homes and embrace principles of design for scale, proportion, repetition, sequence, variety and balance. And, of course, we don’t want to forget the garden view from inside the house!

If you love formal gardens, a simple design could be a trimmed evergreen hedge of geometric shape enclosing a flowerbed filled with summer-blooming flowers. Or, if you prefer, you could define borders and beds by trenching edges between beds and grass, outlining with edging plants or hardscaping.
You may even wish to create a Shakespeare garden, memorial garden, white or red garden or any other creative theme that lights your fire! Have fun and add a secret garden or other elements of surprise!

When putting soft flesh on those garden bones, for a more abundant, bountiful look, choose plants with a variety of texture and form. Mix low, medium, and high; spire, creeping, mounding; and create focal points to draw and hold the eye. Envision how the succession of bloom, scale and speed of growth, and combinations of plants will affect the appearance of the garden. Oh, and don’t forget to consider how maintenance requirements relate to available time and funds.

Finally, add garden furniture that suits your lifestyle—tables and chairs for entertaining, play places for the little ones, and serene spots for meditation. If you enjoy garden art, go for your style—whether classical statuary, contemporary sculptures, or whimsical rust art. (I love them all in my garden.) And don’t forget the value of safety lighting and spotlighting.

Bounty!
Some gardeners, including myself (I confess), start digging with a general vision, but without a formal game plan and will always find a home for any plant that’s a gift or strikes our fancy. The important thing is that your garden is YOURS, reflecting your personality with plant material that makes you happy. If you love a plant, even if others call it a weed, go ahead and enjoy it in your garden, as I do.

The “Country Cottage Garden” concept sparked my flame and has been right for me and our colonial-style house. My summer garden is filled with blooming roses and countless varieties of perennials, most conspicuously hundreds of daylilies—robust perennials, easy to grow and boasting a variety of bold, cheerful colors.

And all came from 10 original plants gifted by a neighbor.

My latest craze for summer bounty is tough care-free native plants that thrive on summer heat and survive drought—butterfly weed, milkweed, Joe Pye weed (that “weed” word again), summer phlox, Rudbeckia, and so many more. Borders and beds overflow with an abundance of flowers successively blooming from June into fall. They speak to me not of formal grandeur but of grace and casual charm.

Then as one cluster of blooms drifts into another, creating a natural summer lushness, they sing the word “bounty” to me.

And at the end of the day, I sit on the terrace with my glass of wine and savor their beauty.

Words & Photos by Susan Timmons