Yesterday morning I left sunshiny FroRo and headed up the mountain into a thick fog of misty rain. Down the other side the weather remained damp and dismal but the air was still, compared to the gusty gales that I'd just left. The countryside was bright green as though brand new fields had been laid down on either side of the road like clean blankets. Spring had definitely sprung, with emerald leaves on branches, resplendent in their newness without any brown tarnishes from bugs or disease. The banks and hedgerows were sprouting furiously with new foliage as though it were a race to cover the ground.
I had taken a day's vacation to drive around and see the gardens of Warrenton featured in Virginia's Historic Garden Week. We were to start at the
PEC headquarters, where we'd register and get a map.
They had just completed planting their native plants garden so I walked around that. Few of the plants were blooming but I'm sure it will be a picture in a few weeks once it's established. There were 4 houses to visit but we were told one of them was now not open due to boxwood blight. This is a fungal disease that can kill the boxwood and is highly contagious, so no visitors would be allowed in case any of the spores were carried off on shoes and would then contaminate elsewhere. Although I respected their decision it was a disappointment as in the property descriptions this particular house sounded as though it had plenty of gardens to see.
But nevertheless I drove to the first house and parked up. We were shown around the house as emcees described various Italian paintings and the owner's extensive whiskey collection. I wasn't at all surprised to discover that photos weren't allowed inside the house so have none to show, but I was anxious to see the gardens.
There really wasn't much to see. A couple of hibiscus and lilac bushes supplied fragrance and the only color so I wasn't impressed. But my spirits were lifted when I saw this amazing chicken coop called Cluckingham Palace, with its own chandelier and door hinges fashioned after chicken feet. The chickens were also very friendly, trotting over to chirrup and cluck their hellos.
For the next house everyone had to board a shuttle as the steep driveway climbed a mountain and wasn't able to cater to continuous cars trying to pass each other on the narrow barely paved road.
This house used a lot of the stone from Wildcat Mountain on which it was built and once again we were expected to tour around and marvel over the interior decorations. I wanted to see the garden!
There were some blooms out the front of the house but nobody could tell me what they were, but I was pretty sure they were orange geums. I used to have a lot of red ones in my English garden. We were finally released out of the back of the house onto a grassy slope. But no garden.
I took a few photos of the greenness since there was little color. There was a herb garden and a kitchen garden but these were both minuscule and had obviously only been planted a couple of days ago. I did admire the neatly tied daffodils, the first time I've seen this done since I left England. Some Nodding Star of Bethlehem bulbs were glistening in the grass, shining bright on their own in the vast green lawn. There were beautiful views of the mountains, topped with shrouds of fog.
The next house was supposed to have flower gardens and English style flower beds so I rushed to park up and made my way over to the front door. We were herded once more through the rooms, noting the family's interest in horses, with the Maryland Hunt Cup and paintings of the winners. The owner also donated the land of the Great Meadow, a popular horse eventing site near Marshall.
We went from room to room and once I saw the exit I made a beeline for it.
The disappointment rose once again. Yes,the views were handsome but there were no flowers to be seen, only various shades of green. I did love the succulents growing between the paving slabs. There was a huge stable complex which everyone was strolling towards so I followed. One horse in particular was very friendly, enjoying the copious amount of kisses I bestowed upon his nose, and when I stopped he nudged me for more.
I was staring at a bed that had plenty of perennials shooting new growth but was unable to identify them. A couple of ladies stopped beside me bemoaning how none of the plants were labeled and I sympathized with them. I had said nothing to anyone else of my disappointment in the tour, thinking it was just the English in me that had been expecting more from the gardens than anyone else, so it was actually a relief to hear that others were thinking the same as me. This was supposed to be a 'garden tour' within 'garden week', not a house tour to view the owners' luxurious lifestyles. I told them that as far as I was concerned the PEC headquarters had been the most useful stop, where I'd actually learned about and got information on plants. The ladies said they would be writing in to complain and informed me of the better regions to view proper gardens in next year's garden week.
I drove towards home after the tour and stopped off to get some flower pots, making sure they were colorful. One thing was for sure, I certainly have a lot more color in my back yard than the three homes I saw today put together, but nevertheless it had been a nice day out. And a day off work is always a winner!
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