If a tree falls in the forest … Part 1

Well, we all know that philosophical conundrum.  What’s your answer? Do you think it makes a sound or not?  I’m one of those practical people who think - of course it makes a sound. Even if no one’s there to hear it, the laws of physics guarantee that some kind of noise is made. I bet if you put a microphone next to the tree it would record the sound… don’t get me started.

I’m willing to be persuaded though - if your argument is good enough.  I’ve just read an article on photosynthesis that looks at the process on the quantum level. In the early 20^th Century

...a bunch of brainiacs, including Max Planck, Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg, discovered that until particles like photons or electrons are observed, they’re nothing but probabilities. In other words, unless they are observed, they don’t really exist as solid physical entities…. When you turn out the lights in the living room and go to bed, the living room ceases to exist as a physical reality. It becomes nothing more than a subatomic soup of probabilities. [Jeff Cox, Horticulture, Sept/Oct 2011]

So does that mean when I turn the light out at night the mess in the living room ceases to exist too?  Yipee, no more cleaning the living-room for me! If anyone complains I’ll tell them to wait until it gets dark, and then it will cease to exist!  

So do I have any greater understanding of photosynthesis now than before?  Not really. I had a hard time with the chemistry of the process.  But I’ll give it a go.  The plant takes up water through its roots.  It also takes up Carbon Dioxide through the leaves. There is a cell within the plant that’s called the chloroplast. It’s like a cook pot. The chloroplast contains a magic ingredient called chlorophyll. When heat is applied (i.e. the sun shines) the magic ingredient combines the carbon dioxide and the water and comes up with oxygen and sugar. The sugar is used to grow the plant, the oxygen thrown off so we can all breath. That’s very much a simplification, because different chemical reactions occur in the dark (i.e. just because the sun’s not shining doesn’t mean the plant’s asleep) and it’s really a miracle when you think about it.

As for the physics … well, I found the chemistry hard enough. I couldn’t make head nor tail of the physics.  Something to do with how plant molecules, in the process of photosynthesizing, can do quantum computing (which even our computers can’t do) and have done so since the dawn of … well plants.  Who’d have thought?

But what has that to do with the garden, you might ask. I can just hear David… get on with it, and stop philosophizing.  Stay tuned for Part 2.

For The Mick -  some Streptocarpus that are blooming right now. This one is Morozy Vzory-Frost.  Streptocarpus have no scent, but the flowers actually get bigger, and last longer than a day.

This Streptocarpus is Fleischle Roulette Azur. Sorry about the quality of the photos. It was dark and I didn't want to use the flash (which changes the colour of flower), so I had to get creative with my desk lamp and hold the camera very steady. David would have taken a better picture. Next time I'll get David to take the picture.

Let me introduce you to an "incredible" gardener

When David read the previous post, he was very anxious to know who I'd be putting in the nice category.  And of course he guessed at my first choice.  I am honoured to introduce to you Wendy Woodworth, Head Horticulturalist at Spadina Museum Gardens.

Spadina Museum is a historic house which has 6 acres of gardens which are kept as historically accurate as possible. I'm not much into history, so if you are interested in finding out more about it you can visit here:
http://www.toronto.ca/culture/museums/spadina-history.htm

The gardens at Spadina (pronounced spa-dee-na rather than spa-dine-a) are what interest me.  The gardens were orginally designed in 1818, and in 1987 the Garden Club of Toronto funded the restoration of the garden.  Wendy was present from the beginning. 

Here's Wendy herself taking us on a little tour of the vegetable garden.

(Spot the typo in the video!  Pianese?  I think they mean Peonies. Obviously not gardeners!)

This little video doesn't really do the garden justice. It focuses on the Parterre portion of the garden where the vegetables and soft fruits are hidden behind a border of flowers.  It appears that it was filmed in early June when the Hesperis matronalis (or Dame Rocket) dominates the garden. And there's so much more than Hesperis to see.  Take a look at the garden in late July.

The garden also has an orchard with many heritage fruit trees, including apple, plum, and peach, a row of old varietal grapes (similar to the concords) as well as a sweeping lawn and lots of beautiful mature trees (some over 200 years old). There is a wonderful old coach house (the chauffeurs quarters now house the offices and the garage portion is filled to overflowing with plants) and a magnificent greenhouse.  There is also something called the Battery, which is a brick promontory built around 1860 which juts out over the escarpment and offers a magnificent view of Toronto


I have volunteer gardened at Spadina off and on (though  more off than on these days) since 2000. Nowadays I go once or twice a year, mostly to chat and catch up with the news. I really admire Wendy.  She has many qualities that I envy, not least of which is her ability to spout latin names of plants with consummate ease.  She is a jack of all trades, being equally proficient in planning, planting and being diplomatic, (there are a lot of volunteers who come to help out at Spadina and I've always seen Wendy treat everyone equally).  She is able to juggle many different tasks and (despite the fact that there's only so many hours in the day and so much to get done) she never appears hurried or worried. 

I think Wendy is most at home in the garden. Her favorite tool is the garden fork and she refers to herself an "industrial gardener". That's because she has no time for fussing about. There are only 2 full time gardeners to look after 6 acres, and in order to get it all done you have to be fast... and not worry when it doesn't all get done.

I've learned a lot from hanging around Wendy and Spadina.

I learned how to prick out seedlings.
I learned to plant flats and flats of annuals quickly and efficiently.
I learned to appreciate all manner of plants that hithertoo I have been ignorant of.
I learned that not all gardening is fun. There are some really tedious tasks (such as weeding the gravel drive).
I learned you have to turn a blind eye to the antics of the "general public".

I also learned that despite being in love with gardening, I cannot do it for a living. It is incredibly difficult to work a 9 - 5 day when it's 30 degrees Celsius outside (and feels like 38 degrees with the humidity). Although I know how to plant massive amounts of the same flower/bulb efficiently, it's not the kind of effect I want in my garden. I can't lift heavy bags of -whatever- as I'm not strong enough. And, I'm not able to hold my tongue when the public allows their beloved children to swing and climb on the 200 year old tree, endangering its limbs.

Thank you Wendy. You have enriched my life beyond words.

Not all gardeners are nice people

Does that statement surprise you?  It shouldn't. It is in the same category as not all handicapped people are nice, or not all old people are nice.  However, it never fails to surprise me when I meet a gardener who isn't nice.  I expect them all to be "salt of the earth" and "shining examples to us all" when in fact, they are just like you and me (although I'm not suggesting that you're not nice).

I'd like to give you a couple of examples of pillars of horticultural society who I didn't find particularly nice people, but as I am a nice person, I will not reveal their names, just tell a few anecdotes to amuse you.

Firstly, there's the name dropper (ND). We went on a tour with ND during that year when we visited many gardens, lead by different people, including ND.  Organized tours are great as you get to see some private gardens that you might otherwise never have a chance to visit, but I didn't care for ND's way of leading. As the bus drove to our destinations, he kept pointing out en route where famous people live/lived. This was lost on me as I'm not very good with remembering names (even famous ones) and so it didn't impress me. He also didn't give out any handouts, and we were forced to gather round and listen to him pontificate for 20 minutes before being allowed to explore on our own. No, I will not be going on a tour with him again. This being said, he does have a lovely garden (yes, he included his own garden on the tour ... how about that for ego?).  Oh, by the way, I've since learned that he's not everyone's cup of tea, so I feel somewhat vindicated in my opinion.

Although I didn't care for ND's style of leading a tour, I must admit he has a beautiful garden and he was also very generous, giving all of the group hand reared Dogwood seedlings (ours didn't survive). Here are some photos from ND's garden. (Note:  The statue above is also from ND's garden).

This is a lovely use of plants. The burgundy Japanese maple on the right hand side contrasts beautifully with the chartreuse of the Hakonechloa macra - Japanese Forest Grass on the left hand side.  Repeating the Hakonechloa plantings leads the eye purposefully down the slope.

The same planting from a different angle.

And from another angle. This time you can see how the Japanese Maple is placed at the top of the pond, and the Hakonechloa becomes a "water fall" of grass tumbling down the slope to the pond.  This is a really gorgeous focal point in the garden.

Secondly, there was the Paragon (P) and husband (H). Now P is also a major player in Toronto's horticultural circles. You see her name everywhere, and 4 times a year she has an open house at her garden. We visited in September, and it was a really strange experience. I didn't actually have much contact with P, but we did with H, and he was very disagreeable ... David's actually words were, "he was a very nasty little man" (my David doesn't mince words).  Throughout the entire visit, H tried to sell you something. If you asked a question about a plant, his answer would go something like... "we had some of those for sale in the Spring but we've got something else you might be interested in." That's ok; these folks obviously felt they needed to have some recompense for allowing complete strangers to come into their garden, but it made you feel like he wasn't really that into gardening.  And then when David mentioned Connon Nurseries (as a location where he'd spotted one of the rare conifers that H told us we'd have real problems finding anywhere else) he slurred them. In all my experience with nurseries and gardeners, that was a first. This was the last straw. I don't think David would be very happy with me if I ever bought anything from these people.

And their garden. Well, there was a lot of tender plants that were either throw away or brought in for the winter, and we got the feeling that many plants were just popped in the earth in pots so they could be easily moved or "sold". And there were many trees that were hard pruned to keep them small enough to fit into the suburban lot.  This happens ... I know, we all plant things too close together, but to see a Meta sequoia so badly pruned made me sad.  And when compared to ND's garden, there is no focal point. Just look at the photos and see for yourself.

A view of the back garden, with pond in the foreground. Behind the pond is the alpine garden.  I think one of the problems in this garden is that there is no restraint.  You don't know where to look as there is too much of everything and no real focal point.

The lawn provides a quiet place to rest your eyes, but otherwise, there's far too much going on in this small space.

On the whole though, most of the gardening people we meet aren't like that. We've met some truly charming and generous people in our travels ... that's for another blog post though, and rest assured, I will be naming names!

A Source of Inspiration

I’ve always gardened in small to medium sized suburban gardens, and there was always a goodly amount of lawn, well it always seemed that way when it came time to mow it.  Whenever I bought a new plant my mother asked 2 questions:  “Will it come back next year?” and “Where are you going to put it?”  The first questions was born of parsimony and the second …well, like most gardeners I couldn’t resist a bargain, or this year’s “must have” (ugh, I hate that expression, but it does apply in this case) even if there wasn't room to plant it.  So every year I was forced to dig up some more lawn and expand the beds.   I was always envious of those lucky gardeners who had gardens large enough to house 6 foot wide perennial borders.

Our property has some really interesting challenges and I soon learned that larger is not necessarily easier.  Unlike most regular gardens round a house, we had many different environments that we could garden in and we couldn’t really have a regular suburban garden with lawns and beds (ok, perhaps the septic tank would house the lawn, that's how it seems to work in the country).  Obviously it was time to get some inspiration.  Although we have many gardening books, especially those coffee table books that you can’t resist buying at a discount at your local independent book store, there’s nothing like visiting a garden in the flesh. After all, you cannot get the smell of a garden from a book, and that for me is a big part of the attraction.

So we began our visits to gardens to garner inspiration for our own creation.  We started close to home. Every year the Toronto Botanical Gardens (TBG) hosts “Through the Garden Gate” a weekend of visiting open gardens in different areas in Toronto. It’s not as large an event as that very famous week long open garden extravaganza in Buffalo, but it’s a really exhausting day, nonetheless.

One year we took advantage of some group tours to different areas to the east and the west of Toronto and we visited a host of gardens.   And every time we travel to a new region we try to see some gardens.  We've seen alot of gardens, from public to private, from tiny to enormous.  We've seen many spectacular gardens of all different kinds; some obviously designed and implemented by landscape architects, but others that were lovingly planted by their owners.  Here are a few of my favorites. 

What a beautiful placement of plants, and rocks in front of that white fence.
Love the way the window cut in the fence is echoed by the round stone at the foot of that pendulous spruce.
Gotta get me one of these.

This shot is so evocative. It could have been taken in Paris or on the West Coast.
It was taken in a private garden near Port Hope Ontario.

This is a tiny part of the most spectacular private Japanese style garden that I've seen outside of Japan. 
Multiply this by 1,000 and maybe you'll  have an idea of how incredible this garden is.

I couldn't resist. Here's another picture from the same garden.
The fence is really unusual and the contrast between the cool green Japanese Maple and the deep maroon Japanese Maple is gorgeous.

Not strictly speaking a garden but I included this as it is inspiring.
It looks so French, but it's right here in Toronto.

This taken at Folmer Gardens which is just west of Walkerton, Ontario. It is a private nursery and show garden on 36 acres. Quite spectacular even in early September.

The Montreal Botanical Gardens - Outside the Japanese Pavilion. You could be fooled into thinking that this little grouping of trees are full sized and those rock are mountains, but in reality the trees are about 4 feet high. The park bench gives you a clue as the scale. This is essence of Japanese gardening - to evoke entire landscapes in miniature. 

The Montreal Botanical Gardens has one of the best artificial Alpine gardens in the world. It is even featured in North American Rock Garden Society's - Rock Garden Design and Construction, which is the authority on ... well - rock garden design in North America. (I feel a bit stupid writing that, as it's pretty self evident!). That's me eating my lunch amidst the beauty of the rocks.

Here's a close up of the MBG crevice garden as the larger picture really doesn't show enough detail. I bet you all thought I was a nut, didn't you?  (Hmmm, you probably still do... beauty in rocks...where?)

Though not strictly speaking a garden, I just had to add this for it is truly inspiring, Taken at the Purdon Conservation Area, these beautiful Lady Slipper Orchids are native in some Ontario wetlands.  The plants do not bloom until they are 10 years old, and they have to have the perfect environment before they can do so. They are little miracles - actually not so little they stand about 1.5 to 2 feet high. They were a delightful surprise as I tend to think of orchids as dainty things. 

 Did we get inspired?  You bet we did! And we'll talk more about that later.

What happens in between?

Considering that we only go up to the lot a few times a year, you may wonder what do I do for the other 11 months of the year?  Well, partly David and I go and visit other gardens for inspiration (and that's another blog post in itself), but when I'm at home in our little apartment, I look after my house plants.
I've given up counting them all, and I must admit they are worrisome when it's time for me to go to the lot and visit their brothers and sisters who live outside, but on the whole they don't ask for much and they give a lot in return.

Here are a few of the more unusual beauties:

This is a Walking Iris (Nerine). The flowers bloom for a day and are lightly scented.
It flowers in February, which is very welcome in that dour month.

Stapelia Variegata in bloom. This succulent attracts pollinators by giving off the scent of rotting meat.  Actually it doesn't really smell at all. Thank goodness!

Strawberry Guava fruit. They are tiny and smell like strawberries.
They have lots of little tiny seeds and not much flesh.
The plant has lovely peeling bark on the trunk.

Hibiscus are very common as houseplants. The flowers only last for a day.
In Bermuda they grow them outdoors and prune them as hedges.
This is a white hibiscus grown from a cutting. I love the red whorls in the centre.

Be patient, it gets better

Looking at the pictures of those early plantings (which were done in August 2007) from my last posting, I wouldn't be surprised if you (the audience) weren't very impressed.

What were we thinking?  Looking back, I now see our efforts as heartfelt, but the results were a little pathetic. (I think David will probably admonish me for saying that).  Rest assured, it does get better, and to give you a taste of what's to come, I wanted to show you some pictures of that same area where the first picture was taken in my previous post (in which you can see the cabin) over the course of a year.

This photo was taken on September 13, 2010. As you can see the Sempervivum is no more. The spot with the bare earth is where we had started work on the 2010 bed in the Lake Lookout Garden. The firepit is behind the wheelbarrow, and the pile of brush is still there.

September 17, 2010. One week later. You can see we had been hard at work. Looks more like a garden doesn't it! Firepit is still there, but I worked really hard to get rid of the huge pile of brush.

August 22, 2011. One year later. We were busy extending the 2010 bed. I guess we could call it the 2011 bed! You can certainly see how the garden is beginning to develop here. David is taking a well-deserved rest surrounded by all the rocks he's dug out!

Finally, August 25, 2011. We had finished the 2011 bed. Not bad work for a fortnight's hard labour!

So, stick with me. It will be worth it I promise. In the future, I'll be showing more detailed photos of how we sweated to make these quite lovely (in my opinion) gardens a reality.

Early Plantings

David wants to know when I’m going to stop philosophizing and actually talk about the garden, so here we go.

Our lot is a vacation property, and as long time gardeners we were savvy enough to realize that we had to choose a plant that, once put into the ground, would have to hold its own.  In our area that means, drought tolerance, unappetizing to deer and other critters, and can survive against the natives.

Hmmm, what would fit the bill?  Our first thoughts turned to the Sempervivum family – commonly known as “Chickens and Hens” or "House leeks".  Cold hardy succulents, we thought they might be perfect for our first foray into gardening.  And they weren't a bad choice, by all means. At our local botanical greenhouse our favourite area is the cactus house. It is always fascinating to see the incredible array of weird and wonderful plants that nature has created to survive different environments.

Next step where to plant them?  We still had the problem of not having actual beds, and perhaps this shows how obsessive our need to make a garden was.  We were forced to find a hollow in the rocks that was filled with a thin soil (produced naturally over many years) and some grass or sedge growing in it, dig that out and plant something else there. And that’s what we did. 

I'm not sure you can even see where we planted. It's in the foreground. The cabin is in the background and you can see the firepit is the dark area on the right hand side and the pile of brush collected for the fire is on the left hand side.

Whilst the boys finished the cabins (I have to tell that story one day) I had the task of planting 4 semperviviums that we had purchased.  I don’t remember it taking long. I sort of surveyed the area, tried to find a place where I could dig out the soil with my trowel; pulled out all the grass, and mixed up a little potting soil with the existing soil (it didn’t need much) and bob’s your uncle.

This gives you some idea of what we are digging in to create our garden. The sempervivum is in that outcropping at the top.

 

These sempervivums were unnamed and we not such experts that we could say what they are, except the arachnodium.

Here at the base of the railway tie staircase, I dug out a small cavity between the rocks and planted. This one has survived over the years, mostly because it is sheltered I think.

And the fate of these chicks and hens?  Well, of course the day after, something had dug them up. And next year when we came up to visit, they were completely overgrown with native flora. In fact we had a hard time finding some of them.

Lesson # 6 Actually a bunch of lessons. Firstly, that in order to prevent a critter digging up your newly planted baby, you have to leave the area looking undisturbed. Secondly, that native soil contains a lot of seeds, that can stay viable for many years. Disturbing the soil seems to encourage propogation. So, if you use the native soil, be prepared for lots of weeds.  This is a lesson hard learned.

Out of the ashes a phoenix may arise

I am saddened to note the demise of Harrowsmith Country Life Magazine.  Of all the magazines that grace the newstands, it is one I have subscribed to for many years now. Ironically, I had just renewed my subscription for 2 years at Christmas. Only one issue was published this year in March and I was just remarking to David that I hadn't received another in the mail yet.  In August the publisher announced it would cease publication just short of its 35th Anniversary.

Originally called Harrowsmith, it was founded in the small village of Camden East Ontario (which we often passed through en route to our lot) in 1976 as a back-to-the-land and environmental magazine.  In recent years its focus shifted and some complained that it seemed more for retiring boomers than serious back-to-the-landers, but I really enjoyed it none-the-less.

Where one magazine dies, another is born. Well it certainly felt that way (and I'm using a bit of poetic license here).  We are most fortunately to have one of the most outstanding gardening magazines published North America - Garden Making - come on the scene in the Spring of 2010.  While it is still in its infancy, it is nevertheless a mature and very professional publication, and that's not surprising, considering that Beckie Fox (the editor-in-chief) was also on the editorial team of Canadian Gardening. It is a garden magazine that is not just about pretty pictures, but is full of interesting and informative articles that are useful to the avid gardener.  It is published quarterly by Inspiring Media Inc. which is co-owned by Beckie and Michael Fox. This bodes well for its survival.

I have a subscription. I suggest if you love to garden you might like to support our Canadian Economy, and get one too.

The Right Tool for the job.

Another lesson learnt from that first planting was how useless normal garden tools are when you are facing a landscape of rocks. You can have the fanciest spade (have you seen the beautiful, shiny tools from Britain in the Lee Valley catalogue?   I don’t know if I’d be able to them to use. Every little scratch would make me cringe), but they’re not much use when there isn’t anywhere you can actually dig.

 

Aren't these beautiful. They wouldn't look out of place in your cutlery draw.

In the beginning we used hand tools to break the ground and extract the many rocks that seemed to form the landscape.  Larger rocks were pried out with the shovel, a real no-no. You can void your warranty if you use a shovel to pry rocks, though how they know that’s how the handle broke is beyond me.  Early on we realized the value of tools that workers on a chain gang would use, pick-axe, mattock, crow bar, and industrial sized shovel. 

Well, we don’t have a pick-axe, but it’s on our list. We do have a really good mattock though. 

This picture makes me laugh. Why on earth would you need to use a mattock here!

And the piece de resistance is this pair of gorgeous tools from Japan. They are strong, refined, and elegant. And most important, they are very, very useful.

These are beautiful. And they don't look like they belong in the cutlery drawer!

 Lesson # 5. Buy the best tools you can afford. They will make your life easier, last longer, and give you the greatest pleasure.  Cheap tools are really not worth the "savings"

Note:  Thank you Lee Valley Tools for the loan of the photos. We have purchased most of our tools from them. The staff are delightful, the selection incredible and we love to get the catalogue in the mail.

A momentous discovery

One of the first things that we planted in our new garden was a gift from a friend. She had a pink rose bush that was far too rampant for her tiny back yard, so she dug it up and presented it to us. It was hard to say no. Perhaps that’s why we end up with plants from other gardeners … we can’t say no.

The poor rose bush was not destined to survive. It spent a week out of the ground waiting for a ride up to our place, and by the time it arrived it had lost most of its leaves. Then we didn’t know where to plant it. Ironic isn’t it?  Almost 5 acres of land and we didn’t know where to plant our first plant.

I must admit that I never thought to question what drives one’s choices in creating a garden.  We have a lovely blank canvas. How do we decide what to plant and where?  Are we driven by location, or plant material, or perhaps a bit of both.  In this case, the plant came first.  We had a rose bush and we had to find a place to plant it.  And this is where we made a momentous discovery. There wasn’t anywhere you could put a spade and find enough earth to plant a rose.  In fact, there was hardly anywhere you could insert a shovel and go deeper than a hand’s breadth before hitting rock.  Oh dear.  We were really unprepared for this.  We didn’t have any soil to make a raised bed (and where would we have put it), and we were in the middle of raising a cabin - which is like raising a barn in miniature - and had more pressing things to think about.

We ended up planting the rose in the first spot that we found (next to a juniper bush) which had enough soil to dig out a hole large enough to plant the rose.  We didn’t have that much hope for the poor thing and we were right to be concerned. When we came back the following morning, some creature had visited in the night and dug it up. It was destined for a woeful end.

Lesson #4 On the Canadian Shield, you have to bring your own soil if you want to make a garden. Oh and be prepared to plant twice.

Note:  In contradiction to my previous post, this was a lovely gift and I would have been very pleased to see it survive in my garden. As it is now deceased and long gone, here's a picture of a rose as it might have been.

Taken at the Toronto Botanical Gardens.

Beware. Gardeners love to share.

When you tell someone that you are making a garden, invariably they see it as a chance to give you something out of their garden.  Have you noticed that?  And will they be sharing part of their very rare and slow growing treasure that a friend smuggled into Canada from Outer Mongolia in their suitcase one year?  You bet they won’t. They’ll be sharing some fast growing, dare I say it, invasive monster that will take over your entire garden in a couple of years, and that you will forever be trying to dig out … and failing.  So it has been my experience with Vinca minor, comfrey, Rudbeckia (20 years of pulling it out every year and it still thrives) to name a few.  I really don’t know if it’s due to a lack of ruthlessness (gardeners are so kind that they can’t bear to throw any plant into the compost heap), or if they are just being well-intentioned and wanted to give you something easy to grow.


Lesson #3.  Beware of gardeners wanting to share from their garden … unless you really know what you’re getting. 

In the Beginning was ...

The Lake Lookout from the other side of the lake.

When you have almost 5 acres to plant, it's a daunting task to know where to begin. My only experience up to now is with a suburban garden – fenced, regularly shaped, flat, with a lawn. If you wanted to plant something, you made a bed by removing the sod and perhaps adding some soil and fertilizer and then your plants. I got very good at lifting sod which then went to patch holes in the lawn, or into the composter.

Kelly Gardens is a whole different ball game. There is no lawn. It’s not flat, in fact the previous owner had named the property “Hazell’s Heights” because it is very hilly.

The old sign still exists, though it's on its last legs

Luckily, he had a road put in from the entrance almost to the top of the point – a distance of about 800 feet, and he had built bridges to 2 islands.

Bridge to the small island

Bridge to the  large island

There was a nice clearing where we could camp, a shed, an outhouse, and a couple of fire pits. He’d also built some very makeshift stairways from railway ties and a dock from skids weighted with stones and sunk into the lake.

David in the shed

The outhouse

But he wasn’t a gardener. He and his wife had planted a few of those bright orange day lilies that you see on road sides in July and a couple of spruce trees, which hadn’t really had a chance to grow because of the competition from the native underbrush, but the rest was typical of the Great Lakes – St. Lawrence Forest region.  White Pine, Hemlock, Cedar, Yellow Birch, Sugar Maple, Red Maple, Red and White Oak with an understory of shrubs.

The road through the woods in Fall 2005

Oh, and did I mention the rocks?  Lots and lots of rocks.

A few of the rocks we dug out to build the deck

David and I have had Kelly Gardens since 2005. We’ve planted a few things here and there over the years, but we weren't seriously gardening till 2010. And we really, really wanted to make a garden.  The first few years we learned some valuable lessons, and these early experiments obviously need to be documented because David looked at some pictures of our first plantings and he couldn’t remember them, because they’ve since died.  In order to be able to learn from our mistakes we have to remember them…

Lesson # 2 Keep Records. Make sure you cover the 3 W’s - What, Where, When and take a picture. Next year you may need the picture to locate the plant.

Lake Lookout before picture

Site of the Lake Lookout Alpine garden

This was taken in 2010 before we began work on the Lake Lookout garden.

Lesson #1. If you want to document your progress, then take a picture before you begin to dig!  We didn't. This was taken as a view of the lake rather than a view of the garden.  Still, you get the picture. (No pun intended)

Not much of interest here except the lake. Note the boring hillside with pile of twigs in the foreground. This is where we began our alpine garden.

A landscape of possibilities

There's something really wonderful about creating and nurturing a garden. I've gardened, off and on, for about 30 years, but always in someone else's garden. It fed the need to get dirty and smell the earth, and I've learned many things over the years. 

In 2005, my husband, David and I bought a waterfront lot 40 minutes north of Kingston and we now have the chance to create the garden of our dreams. 

It's a challenge on many levels.  It's on the Canadian Shield. We don't have any top soil. We have a lot of rocks... sometimes too many. Luckily we have such a lot of land, that we can toss the rocks somewhere else.  I'm sure that one day we will regret that.  We have deer. We don't have a tap. The list goes on and on.

It's been 6 years now and every year we add a little. I decided that it's time to document our progress as when we've finished, we won't remember what hard work went into making our dream. This is a good way to remember.