A Trip to Ticondaroga

During a quiet moment at work on Thursday, I was looking online to see what events were happening at the weekend, and came across reviews for The National Botanical Garden, which opened last year. I initially assumed it was in DC, so was amazed to find the address was very local, about 15 minutes from work in Chantilly. I read the reviews, which were either very impressed or completely unimpressed, with little mediocre comments. Intrigued, I paid my $25 for a ticket the next day, planning to leave work a few minutes early.

Of course, Friday was another swelter of a day, with palpable humidity, and no breezes, but I stoically turned up at the address, and wondered whether it belonged to the farm I used to work at, over 20 years ago, selling Christmas trees. It was on the same road, and I vaguely remembered the owner talking about a dream he had of creating his own small kingdom. While I was working there, he was in the process of building a small 'mountain', by moving tonnes of earth, and this was often part of the discussions among the staff.

I pulled up in the carpark, next to another white SUV, and looking out of the window, I spotted a lady pulling on her hiking boots. "I know you!" I exclaimed. It was a fellow hiker from a Facebook group, whose entries I'd often read, and liked. I'd never met her before, but recognized her immediately. We chatted for a while, and then went our separate ways. She was limping a little and would be covering ground slower than myself, and I wanted to make sure I saw everything in the 2 hour window I had before the place closed.

As I had driven in, I'd seen these 2 modern sculptures. Because they were metal and shiny, they appealed to me, but I'm not really enthralled by modern works of art. The second one had a robin nesting in the middle of it, so I didn't get too close. There were other modern sculptures, including 2 huge, gaudy pots, but I didn't take many photos of these displays.

I really liked the chimes by the lake, they were massive, the hoop was about 7ft tall. Of course, being that size, I had to hear them chime, and slowly walked up, and very gently nudged the pipes. A lady behind me laughed as they boomed across the water, she'd been wanting to do the same thing. As I got to the other side of the red bridge, I felt a piercing sting on my left thigh and looked down to see a black wasp fly off. The pain was intense but I rubbed my leg until it dissipated, although it burned for a long while afterwards. I wasn't angry, more surprised to see this wasp, since there were very few native plants anywhere here, but there were plenty of 'weeds' so I assumed she'd been pollinating those. Apparently, only the female wasps sting.It was also possible I'd inadvertently come close to a nest. There was a wooden slatted bridge over to a small island with established bamboo filling the isle. Bamboo is a beautiful plant, but highly invasive, so growing it on an island seemed a great way to contain it. There were other similar islands in the lake.

There was a formal garden area, with concrete paths, rocks and more modern sculptures, yet sadly, very few native plants again. There were some ferns, imported plants, grasses, and plenty of liriope. I would find liriope everywhere I went. A hobbit town had been built, which had been a draw for me when I looked at the gardens online. I spent a while climbing up the steps to each home set in the hill and walking along the walls between them. The rock work was well very executed, and this 'village' must have taken years to construct. Beyond the hobbit homes was a huge castle being built, looking like it had come straight from a fairy tale book. The construction workers were busy while I was there, and I didn't envy them working in this heat.

A large cacti garden was just past Hobbit Town, and I was pleased to see a huge clump of Eastern Prickly Pear cacti, looking happy in the sunshine. There were numerous larger cacti, all looking very healthy, yet many of the prepared beds were empty. I hope they're in the process of being filled. 

A wild meadow area opened up after the cacti garden, and I was pleased to see so many native plants here, growing wild and rampant. A few bee houses were active, and insects were buzzing about merrily. This was my favorite part of the gardens. There were quite a few of the Victorian style lamps placed about the grounds, and out here in the meadow, they seemed a little out of place, but not in a bad way. I also noticed many of the large metal hoops, which were being used to train vines to grow up. I later found out that these were recycled conduit spools that had been used for data center construction. I would have liked one for my garden, but though resourceful I may be, I couldn't fathom out a way to strap one onto the top of Stanley. Shame...

After having been out so long in the blazing sun, and with the tiny no-see-um bugs constantly bothering me, I headed back to the formal garden area, where there was a large stone open barn, and where I hoped it would be cooler. A couple of people were at a table with laptops, and they asked me if I had any questions. I was amazed to recognize the gentleman, who upon me asking, confirmed he was the owner, and did also own the Christmas tree farm I had worked at so many years ago. His new wife, who sat with him, was responsible for the modern art sculptures, and we had a long chat about the garden and my old job. When I told him that I remembered him talking about the gardens, he told me to look up an article from 1993, published in the Washington Post, and here it is. His wife took a photo of us, and then directed me to the bamboo area, called Kyoto, my last part of the gardens to visit. They said it would be lovely and cool there. Peter told me that bamboo grows a foot a day for 75 days, and then stops growing. Also, their bamboo feeds the pandas and elephants at The National Zoo in DC.

As I walked up the slight incline to the bamboo groves, I noticed immediately that the temperature dropped dramatically in the shade. The humidity was still high, but with the small creek bubbling down the banks, its musical sound and the darkness created by the bamboo canopy, had a cooling calming effect. I spent a while there, surprised at myself for enjoying this area so much, while being surrounded by invasive plants, including a carpet of liriope, and Japanese stiltgrass.

As I walked back to the car, I couldn't decide whether this visit had been a success or not.There were certainly not enough plants for this to be a proper botanical garden, but it was obviously a work in progress, and certainly evident that a lot of work, and money, had already been committed to the grounds. The gardens were definitely interesting. I had had no idea of what I would find as I ventured around each corner, and it had been quite exciting, wondering what I would come across next. It was whimsically weird, and I always enjoy experiences that are different from the norm. It was also wonderful that so many acres were being saved from the ever growing destruction of farmland in this area. Homes and data centers are gobbling up this area at a frightening speed, so it was enjoyable to spend a couple of hours walking in a garden, where birds were happily trilling and tweeting, with draagonflies and bees, among many other insects, buzzing about their business. Even the wasp sting didn't seem so bad after all,( although a week later, it's still bothering me). The last photo is my favorite, one of the lakes as I drove out, so green and peaceful. I'll likely visit again in the future, since I'm often going to wonder what Peter has created next in his kingdom, and any sanctuary in suburbia has to be a blessing.

The garden's website is here.

A Weekend of Dereliction and LEGO

With all the rain we've been getting recently, the humidity has been horrific, so thick you can almost chew it. Any small movements result in instantaneous drenching of all clothing, and an immediate need to sit down and rest. With these wonderful climate conditions, Richard, Eric, Liz and myself decided to go urbexing on Sunday, out to the Maryland eastern shore, hoping it would be cooler with sea breezes.

Wrong. We crossed the Bay Bridge and arrived to more heat and humidity; there was no escape. But we persevered, with Eric knowing some old houses we could explore, a couple of churches also on the list, and Liz persistently demanding the AC be turned up higher every time we climbed back into the car after each visit.

Eric took us to what he called, 'a good house', and we clambered in through a broken window. There were many memories left behind, old photos, clothing and ornaments. This always makes me sad, thinking of the circumstances in which family photos would be left to curl and fade, rather than treasured somewhere safe in a family album. I always try to imagine what the home would have looked like when the house was a happy hive of love and activity, and sometimes think I can hear small footsteps hammering up and down the stairs, family chatter, and smell the home cooking. It's almost  a crime that these old places aren't salvaged or restored. They are built so much better than most of today’s houses, and the woodwork detailing is always exquisite. I love the old wallpaper patterns too. But, out here, homes tumbling down on the flat, farmed fields will be left to collapse. With climate change already leaving its mark, the water level here has risen dramatically, and many of the old houses we visited had spongy, waterlogged yards, a constant reminder that this coastal area would not be owned by humans for much longer. We also came across a few family cemeteries, the concrete casks already flooding by the encroaching rising sea level.

We stopped to check out a flea market, which looked quite promising, and did have some interesting antiquities, but most of them were coastal and beach decor, not ideal for my home, except for a wonderful pair of lightning rods, which I would have loved for the garden, but the $120 price tag held me back. There were also some novel wind chimes, made from empty fire extinguishers, which I loved, but for $29 and up, I took a photo instead, thinking I could make one myself, if I ever came across an empty fire extinguisher. We also passed an old bank building, which Eric had stopped at once before, the owner having restored it into a cozy home, although there were few neighbors nearby.

At the end of one road was a small fishing dock, with a couple of sunken boats, stacks of crab pots, and a row of 5 brand new condos, which was odd, since there was nothing else out here, and they would likely soon be experiencing flooding. A small family were enjoying the solitude of a tiny beach, the only people we'd seen down this road. After strolling around a couple more old homesteads, we'd had enough, and decided to look for crab cakes and beer, which we found, and then made our way back to civilization, although I kind of missed the peaceful solitude once we hit the busy traffic and strip malls again.

July 4th was another muggy and hot day, with storms on the horizon, but I had errands to run, and thought I'd drive about to see if anything was open, not wanting to sit indoors all day. I ended up in Winchester and discovered the Museum of the Shenadoah Valley was open, with a LEGO exhibition in the gardens. This interested me, and a wander along their nature trails could be done afterwards. 

Sean Kenney, the artist, has been in partnership with LEGO for 14 years, creating sculptures and art, which have been viewed by millions. Based in Amsterdam, I was impressed that this little local museum was showcasing his work, so I paid for my ticket and entered the gardens. There weren't many other people here, so it was nice to be able to stroll around slowly and take a few photos without being in anyone's way. The sun blasted down, intermittently ducking in and out of the clouds, and the difference in temperature as it did this was noticeable.

Sean's work is impressive. The detail on these sculptures is incredible, they look so lifelike. I was pleased to see them in a garden setting, rather than a gallery room, the natural surroundings really enhanced the sculptures, making them stand out more against a living background, when they're so obviously man-made. And man-destroyed. This message was apparent as I walked around, the creatures displayed are all in danger of extinction. I actually loved the only extinct one here, the dodo, on a plinth, the first time that I've been close up to a 3D rendition of this amazing creature. I also couldn't help admiring the garden behind the chameleon, with an arch like mine, using a cattle panel and stakes. They've painted theirs blue, which I loved.

These sculptures took many hours to create. The polar bear group took 1048.5 hours, with 133,263 bricks, the biggest undertaking in this group, with the monarch and milkweed only 330 hours and 39,708 bricks!

I wasn't quite sure why this galleon was hovering above the garden, but it intrigued me enough for a photo, and I particularly liked the gardener's use of bamboo to create a trellis for the tomato plants in the background. It was interesting also, to see that their vegetable garden hadn’t grown as much as mine. I think that may be due to Front Royal having had more rain than Winchester.

There were 13 sculptures in all, some of which I didn't photograph, but my all time favorite was the snow leopard. Apparently, there are less than 7000 of these in existence, threatened by rising temperatures, human settlement, and habitat loss.

I could only manage an hour or so strolling around the gardens, it was too hot and stifling, so I didn’t get to hike the trails, my energy had been sapped by the heat. I was grateful to sit back in the car, with the AC blasting, and equally grateful, that once I was back home, I didn’t need to water the garden, the humidity was keeping everything damp.

 

Sean Kenney’s website is here:

https://www.seankenney.com/

 

The Grand Tour, Blue House Style

And all of a sudden it was June 24th, the garden tour day, and I panicked a little in the morning, wondering if I was actually ready, after spending so long preparing for it. Throughout the winter, I had been trawling flea markets and thrift shops for bits and pieces to use in the garden, and the car port looked like a junk yard with my collection. For over 4 months, I'd been toiling outside, at weekends and after work, cleaning up after the winter, building a vegetable garden, removing more grass to add additional native plants, copious amounts of weeding, lugging huge bags of soil and mulch, lots of painting, hauling large rocks and logs, plus watering every evening for weeks, which took 1 1/2 hours each night. I had taken a few days vacation time to complete some jobs, and was off the Thursday and Friday before the tour to finish last minute tasks, and check everything was in place. But nature decided that my watering hadn't been sufficient, and decided to storm heavily for those days, and indeed threaten the actual tour day itself with more rain.The spring had been cooler than usual, meaning with lower temperatures, the plants didn't want to grow, and were considerably less advanced than they were last year. I gave the plants a pep talk and lots of encouragement, and they did make some effort to grow, but as Chris, one of the Master Gardeners commented, all the gardens were in the same boat, so people knew what to expect.

This was how the front garden looked when I bought the house at the end of 2018. How boring, with not a single flower to be seen, and certainly no insect life at all.

The day was overcast and cool when Chris and her team of 4 volunteers turned up at 8am. She calmly took control, made the introductions, and gave us tasks. The gardens were open at 9am, but signs had to be erected, roads for parking on pointed out, and they wanted me to walk them around, explaining everything, so that they could help out when needed. I was a little nervous as despite all my planning for the garden, I hadn't considered for one moment what I would say to the visitors! I had stuck boards on wooden poles at a few points around the garden, explaining why I had planted native plants, and what I'd done in various areas. Elliott would be walking about with his camera, and had set another camera up in a window, for a time lapse. The photos of the tour, and the first half, of this blog are all thanks to Elliott.

I was grateful he took these , since I didn't have any opportunities to take photos myself.

There had been a hole in the driveway, which weeds constantly grew out of. I'd kill them off with boiling water, but they would defiantly reappear, and so the cycle went, until I got fed up with it and decided to cement the hole and then mosaic over the top. But due to the rain, I wasn't able to finish it, and so set it up as a roadwork, so folks wouldn't walk on it. Many found that amusing as they passed by. Elliott also took one of the 'ugly' part of the back garden, where I've covered the huge bed of hated liriope, an invasive non-native, with black plastic, which will kill it off over the summer. You can also see I hadn't finished the gateway, again thanks to the rain.

 

 

 And then people began arriving. And I started one of the many tours I gave of the gardens. And I was amazed. Everyone was genuinely interested in learning about native plants, swapping information and tips, asking questions, and so many compliments, I was humbled and elated. I didn't speak to one person throughout the whole day whose attention wandered, or their eyes glazed over; people were really enjoying the garden! And they all read the cards I spaced about or left on the table under the back porch. It was so nice, to hear, 'Oh, I didn't know that", or, "What a great idea!" And the Master Gardeners were always on hand, identifying plants and helping with questions, and giving tours themselves. Even Elliott said he took a few people round himself.

We had a few small lulls, but the visitors were quite constant. An old English friend popped round for a tour, as did the Woodward House twins, it was lovely to see them, but I felt guilty not being able to spend much time chatting, since I was needed on tours, or to answer questions. The day whirled by, people constantly coming up the driveway, with big smiles, all of them wanting to be led around, rather than wanting to walk around on their own, but many after the tour, walked around again on their own. One lady said she had to come because of the name, The Blue House, and on arriving, told me my house looked just like her mother's, with the blue roof and shutters. One chap pointed out a few aphids on the milkweed, and was interested to know that they should be left to nature, as very soon, the lady bugs would arrive to eat them. There was already one on duty. A lot of folk commented on the milkweed, and the scent was incredible, wafting across the garden.

These photos onwards are my iPhone photos, taken later that weekend, or a few days after the tour. The ones below are of the back garden, an L-shaped area, with a lovely covered porch. The first 2 are of the back when I bought the house. I had to remove a lot of liriope, ornamental grasses and ivy, and discovered the triangular bed in the corner, which I dug out and turned into a pond. Elliott cleared a lot of the ivy from the back fence, a monumental job. I left some controlled ivy around the pond as birds, spiders, snakes, frogs and lizards shelter in it.

Nearly all the plants back here are now natives. I left a small clump of the ornamental grass by the pond,and one bed has more tomatoes, basil and cilantro growing. Many people said it was a lovely, private retreat, and some even sat and had a rest back there, which made me happy. They sat and chatted about the plants, pointing out various parts. Elliott said a pair of ladies were sitting and incredulous about my metal rolling window shades that come down over the side windows. They'd never seen them before, and asked me later if they worked, which they do. Many inquired about the camper, and were very enthusiastic when I told them of our plan to turn it into a potting shed and lounge., with one lady even inviting herself over when it's done. I had a few pots of winter sown sea holly which were free for folks to take, and happily, they did. A lady had thought the blue had been sprayed on, it's so vibrant! There were also lots of compliments on the veggie garden and my gate, There were questions on how I constructed the beds, the soil I'd used, Shenandoah potting soil, compost and mulch, and I had a very interesting talk about watering. I've linked up a rain barrel to the gutter on the front of the house, but previously had been using tap water. A gentleman and I agreed the chemicals in that could have stumped the growth on my spaghetti squash and spinach. I mentioned that I often fill my watering cans with tap water, and then let them stand for a few days, with a saucer or plate over the top, to stop critters falling in and drowning. 

There were so many ID requests on plants, so phone apps were extremely useful, as I couldn't remember all the plants I have. One lady couldn't believe how many native plants I had. Chris and I reckoned it was a 80:20 ratio.

The camper had to be repainted too. It was sealed now so I gave it 2 coats of blue paint and also painted the window rims black to match other windows and the door, forever banishing the previous hippy look, with it's multiple bright colors and huge LOVE letters on one side. It now matched the house and fitted the blue theme. I had picked up a lot of old gardening equipment over the winter, so used these as decorations. Surrounded by old cattle feeder troughs and pots, the camper, called The Bug Out, now fits in well with the garden. I've thrown a lot of rocks underneath it, and am on the lookout for more, as this would provide wonderful shelter for amphibians and snakes. We're hoping to start work on the interior in the fall. I have already found blue Tiffany style wall scones and ceiling lights for it, and want an insect theme inside, with rustic decor, work tops for potting plants, cabinets underneath for storage, a small retro fridge, a small electrical fire with flickering flames, and a couple of comfy chairs, with a book case and insect artwork on the walls.

I'm very proud of my veggie garden. I started building this in March, assembling the beds, numerous trips driving Stanley filled up with bags of soil, compost, and mulch, building the fence, trellis, and the gate. Elliott did a grand job of digging the gateposts over 2ft deep! There are peas, (these have nearly finished), pole and bush beans, parsnips, broccoli, beets, cabbages, carrots, squash, spinach, corn, peppers and tomatoes, as well as dill, rhubarb, sunflowers and borage. I haven't planted great quantities of each, since I've never had a proper vegetable garden before, so it's a huge learning process. Outside, along the fence, are lemon balm, dill,lavender, sunflowers, and deer resistant plants, most of these have fragrances which groundhogs abhor. Nearly all of these plants, apart from the few that I direct seeded, were my winter sown plants, that I'd started growing from seeds in old plastic water jugs in January. The blue boards used for edging are old cedar siding planks from a demolished house, built in the late 1800's. I have plenty left, which will be a wall covering in the camper. And the gate. I'm exceptionally chuffed to bits with this, my first adventure with woodwork. It took me 2 days to build since I had to work outside during the Canadian forest fire smoke invasion, so I was wearing a N95 mask all the time, which wasn't pleasant.  But it opens, swings, and closes perfectly, and I love walking in and out of it! I posted a photo of it on a Facebook Gate Appreciation page 2 days ago, and as I write this I have over 2700 likes and hundreds of comments of praise. I'm elated, and this, plus the many wonderful compliments I received on the garden tour, has given me confidence to keep having a go at woodwork. I had actually put off making this gate for over a month as I was so scared of failure.

This is part of the 'wild' area, a bank along the side of the garden, which is largely undisturbed. There are cedars, dogwood, redbud and hawthorn growing here, with other volunteer trees popping up, which I will mostly leave. This natural habitat will be used by many creatures, with the old rocks and logs that are also stacked along here, but mainly, it's a sanctuary for lightning bugs, who spend 2 years of their lives as larvae underground before they emerge as the beautiful blinking insects we all love. But their numbers are dimminishing, thanks to pollution of pesticides and other chemicals used on lawns, and continuous grass cutting. I added the chicory and mullein just because I love them, and they seem happy here, since they are thriving. There was a lot of interest shown in this area by the visitors.

Nearly all of our guests started in the front garden, although there were 2 easy entrances to the back, and after a few people had been around, an actual 'route' was established.

The grass bank in the front garden has nearly been rid of grass, only a small area needs to be dug up, a task for the autumn, and the plants were dense and lush. The rain from the past few days had, unfortunately, ruined some blooms, mainly the roses and the prickly pear cacti, but they'll be back, and we have those gorgeous flowers to look forward to. There were still many others in flower, cone flowers, sea holly, yarrow, obedient plant, ox-eye sunflowers, baptista, monarda, blanket flower, and coreopsis, to name a few, plus plenty of annuals in pots and in the 2 canoes. There was plenty of evidence of plants budding and vines growing. The native honeysuckles had sent out tendrils along with the cardinal vines, and the luffa vine was halfway up its trellis. Butterflies flittered over the blooms and folks were impressed with the amount of bees. And there will be more as summer progresses and more plants flower with the warmer temperatures. The front steps looked pretty. It seemed so long ago when Elliott and I had used a jack hammer to remove the old broken steps and replaced them with new ones, now painted blue and decorated with handmade Mexican clay tiles. The bent and broken side fence was gone. I'd found 3 old doors over the past year, painted them blue, (of course), and made a new panel, with one of the doors becoming the new gate. I'm not liking the dark stain on the post though, so will paint over that soon.

And so the day had been a huge success. Chris told us that we received more visitors than the Heritage Center, also in town, which was incredible. The pond had bubbled merrily throughout the day, there was plenty of laughter and chatter, and everyone had everyone had left with waves and big smiles. I got a big kick from seeing so many people taking photos for ideas, and one guy is returning to help himself to milkweed seeds later on when they're ready, and even a volunteer plant if he wants. A few even said they'd like to swing by to see how the garden progresses, and of course, they're welcome. We had about 80 visitors on a day that had been threatened with storms. There was a slight squall, which soon blew over, and of course, there was the carport and porches to shelter under, so nobody got wet. The day ended at 4pm, and boy, was I tired. Elliott brought out a very welcome bottle of champagne which we drank with the volunteers, before they packed up their signs, and after many hugs drove home. And then we were left alone, apart from the comforting buzzing of  insects and bees. It had definitely been a Grand Tour. 

Here's the time lapse that Elliott made of the day. Note the rain shower in the middle, and the roads getting wet, then drying up.

https://youtu.be/4HshYrVHGho