Two posts about Tudor Place events

Tour Georgetown’s Garden Treasures: Tudor Place and Dumbarton Oaks
 this Saturday, May 14, 2011 at 10:30 a.m.



Two of my favorite public gardens are in Georgetown.  How lucky can you get? Better yet:  Both are on tour this Saturday morning!   At 10:30 am Gail Griffin, Director of Gardens & Grounds at Dumbarton Oaks, and Suzanne Bouchard, Director of Gardens & Grounds at Tudor Place will lead a group through both gardens. 

What I love about these two gardens is the contrast between their histories and their designs. Tudor Place, steeped in the history of the Custis Family (Martha Washington’s granddaughter, Martha Custis Peter and her husband, Thomas Peter, purchased it in 1805) and the development of the Capitol, reflects the family’s requirements for food production and beauty as it evolved over six generations.  It is unique in how long the house and gardens were owned and lived in by a single family.  Moreover, no designer was involved in it’s creation yet it stands out as an intimate and beautifully laid out garden with a tremendous plant collection, some of which is related to plants at Mount Vernon.  It’s worth a trip this week, just for its rose garden!

Dumbarton, on the other hand, is the result of a 25-30 year collaboration starting in 1921 between landscape architect Beatrix Farrand (niece of Edith Wharton, and the only female founding member of the American Society of Landscape Architects) and Ambassador and Mrs. Bliss —educated, cultured, and noted art collectors.  Their efforts resulted in the creation of a spectacular terraced garden, a stunning blend of European and American influences.

This tour is a great opportunity to learn how the gardens at Dumbarton Oaks and Tudor Place have evolved aesthetically since the nineteenth century and the challenges surrounding their preservation today.

Reserve now, as space is limited! 

Dumbarton Oaks & Tudor Place Members: $10
Nonmembers: $15

Go to http://tudorplacegardentour.eventbrite.com/ to register.

Herbs Workshop at Tudor Place, Saturday, May 21, 2011

If you love history, eating, cooking, and plants, you will be pleased to know there are still a couple of openings for the first of three “Garden to Table” workshops inspired by the historic gardens at Tudor Place. This first workshop, which will run from 10:30 until 2:30, will focus on container herb gardening with a Mediterranean theme, reflecting the travels of the last owners of Tudor Place. It will be taught by Suzanne Bouchard, Tudor Place Director of Gardens and Grounds, and lifelong "foodie" and owner of Just Simply...Cuisine, Chris Coppola Leibner.  Just Simply...Cuisine is a teaching kitchen in Woodley Park that depends on local grocers, farm markets, butchers, fishmongers, bakeries and dairies to inspire students.  Workshop participants will start the day at Tudor Place where they will learn hands on the basic steps of herb gardening, primarily in containers, and each participant will create their own herb filled container to take home.  Lunch will be provided at Just Simply….Cuisine after the cooking class.  Students will dine on their own culinary creations based on the herbs discussed and planted in the morning session.

Tudor Place is now a relatively formal garden but at one time had vegetable gardens and its owners grew herbs in the flower knot, which is now the renowned rose garden. 

The next two workshops are “Edible Flowering Plants for the Garden” on June 18, and “Fruit Production for Small Spaces” on July 16. At both workshops, Suzanne Bouchard will discuss how the Peter family incorporated each theme (herbs, edible flowers, & fruit trees) into their gardens and examples you can see today.

The workshops are $90 per session or $260 for all three sessions for members, and $95 per session or $275 for all three sessions for non-members. You can register for these workshops (the deadline for the one this Saturday is Friday) online at: http://gardentotable.eventbrite.com/

I wish I had a pick up truck…

As a garden designer, I feel I should comment on the layouts of the various wonderful gardens on last week’s Georgetown Garden Tour, and indeed, I have much to say.  My inner plant nerd, however, has taken my design-training hostage, and instead I am compelled to write about some of the truly beautiful plant combinations on display.  These are plantings you can and should try in your own garden!

Coral Bells and Strawberry "Lipstick"

The sheer imagination of the planting designs on this year’s tour shone.  Take the combination of Coral Bells (Heuchera), a North American native, and ornamental strawberries (Fragaria – probably the cultivar “Lipstick”).  This color combination was show stopping, with sprays of miniature light pink blossoms floating delicately above dark pink strawberry flowers.  The soft green leaves of the coral bells hovered slightly above the small, dark green leaves of the strawberry plants, ensuring a pleasing contrast when both plants have stopped blooming – one that will persist in winter since both plants, which prefer sun and partial shade, are also evergreen. 

My Favorite Heuchera

The ornamental strawberries, which are not grown for their fruit, also looked amazing with a purple leafed heuchera.  Heucheras have been intensely hybridized over the past several decades and now come with a broad and shocking variety of colored leaves and names that make my mouth water: “Marmalade”, “Plum Pudding”, “Mocha”, “Tiramisu”, “Berrie Smoothie”.   Their leaves range in color from orange to deep purple, silver to mottled everything, and I will confess I find many disconcerting and unappealing beyond their culinary names.  I am a devotee, however, of the deep purple leafed varieties, which look fantastic in the garden.  Here they were planted to great effect with white roses and the strawberry blossoms but I’ve also seen them with Japanese painted ferns, which have silver leaves accented with purple.  This is combination is definitely on the “must plant” list.

An Architectural Success

Allium (Ornamental Onion) is always beautiful and I was pleased to see it planted with another of my favorites, variegated Solomon’s Seal.  I loved the color arrangement of the purple and white blossoms and the white and green stripy leaves, but I’m not sure that I wasn’t more enchanted by the combination of this erect stem topped by its spherical umbels, the arching stems of the Solomon’s Seal, and the broad, soft leaves of two different hostas. The backdrop of a Cherry Laurel’s glossy pointed leaves lent not only a dark green foil for the brighter colors but ensured winter structure.  The entire planting was an architectural success.

Shimmering Lamium and Lime Green Hosta

Hostas are deer lettuce – or perhaps, mesclun – and therefore, I regularly found them munched to stubs in my old Connecticut garden. I was consequently delighted to see lovely hostas planted throughout the tour, and was especially taken by a large, lime green form that was tucked in a bed of lavender-flowered lamium.  Lamium is a wonderful ephemeral ground cover that also comes in a white-flowered variety, and both create a soft variegated carpet in summer.  Here, the small soft rosy purple blossoms were a perfect contrast to the relatively huge lime green hosta leaves, and both were set off by the lamium’s small silver and green leaves which caught the dappled sunlight and made this bed shimmer.

Every garden needs toad lily and hellebores!

There was also a wonderfully healthy planting of stinking hellebores.  The chartreuse flowers of the hellebores emerged in winter and the brightly colored sepals remain, contrasting beautifully with their narrow, bluish green foliage.  They were planted next to toad lilies (tricyrtis), another of my all time favorites.  The contrast of the hellebore and tricyrtis foliage will be beautiful all summer as the toad lily has soft green strappy leaves evenly spaced along its long, arching stems, but the real treat will come at the end of summer when the tricyrtis reveals its little mottled orchid-like flowers.  Every stem bears a series of flowers, individually tucked into the joining of the leaf to the stem.  They are gorgeous moist shade lovers that should be considered mandatory additions to every shade garden.

The Startling Hakone Grass

Another real eye catcher for partial shade is Hakone grass (Hakonochloa macra), especially the cultivar “Areola”, which was the Perennial Plant Associations 2009 Perennial Plant of the Year (so there).  It’s yellow and green striped leaves are always startling, sometimes too much so, and I always feel it must be used cautiously.  In this garden, it was perfectly balanced by a diversity of hosta, ferns, sweet woodruff, and black Mondo grass that blended well together to create a coherent planting -- very elegant and imaginative.  Hakone grass likes moist, rich soil and unlike many grasses, does better with some shade, especially in hot climates.  It’s also well behaved as it is a slower grower and doesn’t self-sow.

The Miniature Petticoat Daffodile

Finally, I will single out one little bulb that has charmed me for weeks.  It is visible from the street and I have walked by it several times so it was exciting to see it up close.  It is the petticoat daffodil (Narcissus bulbicodium – and you should know that bulbicodium is Latin for “wooly bulb”).   Most of us think of daffs as relatively large, but there are a whole series of them that are small, perfect for small gardens.  The petticoat daff, which grows to a whopping 8 inches, is the only one I can think of that is at once small and very very loud with a bright deep yellow that you wouldn’t miss with a blindfold on.  They are great in masses or as accents in small gardens, and are supposedly not difficult to grow in pots for springtime forcing. 

I am so inspired by the gardens on the tour that I am now ready to purchase everything on this list and more.  It is times likes these that I lament my decision to drive a Mini Cooper.

Garden Tour and Celebrating Georgetown's Trees....

Roses and bluebells and deutzias, oh my!

According to weather.com, this Saturday is supposed to be a lovely 71-degree day – the perfect temperature for touring the nine spectacular gardens on the 83^rd annual Georgetown Garden Tour, sponsored by the Georgetown Garden Club.  Pick up your tickets at Garden Tour headquarters at Christ Church, (31st and O Streets, NW), and start walking.  The whole fabulous experience runs from 10AM until 4PM plus you can do a little shopping for beautiful topiaries, fine porcelain vases, and unusual gardening tools at the Garden Boutique (don’t forget Mother’s Day is Sunday)! When you are all tuckered out and want to sit and reflect on the day’s adventures, head over to Keith Hall at Christ Church between 2 PM and 4 PM for tea.  It’s billed as a “not-to-be-missed tea”, and since the cookies, tea sandwiches, and sweets are all homemade by members of the Georgetown Garden Club, I believe them. 

Get your sunscreen and walking shoes out, people!  Come be inspired by the secret gardens of Georgetown!

Tickets are $35 and the tea is included.  The experience is priceless! 

For more information go to http://www.georgetowngardentour.com/index.html

Celebrate Georgetown’s Trees

By now you must have noticed all the new trees that have been planted this spring in the empty tree boxes along our sidewalks.  This fantastic effort has been undertaken by “Trees for Georgetown”, a volunteer committee of the Citizen’s Association of Georgetown, which identifies vacant tree boxes and works to fill them with trees that will ensure our neighborhoods will have green, leafy canopies shading our streets for years to come.  They also do yeoman duty in summer by trying to make sure trees are adequately watered.

If you are like me and value this effort, you should know that “Trees for Georgetown” is having its’ spring fundraiser on Wednesday, May 11 from 6-8 pm at Jill and Rock Tonkel’s historic home.  Herman Hollerith built it at the turn of the 20th century for his three maiden daughters, Lucia, Nan, and Virginia who, with their mother, co- founded the Georgetown Garden Club. For all you history buffs, Mr. Hollerith invented the punch card tabulating machine that was used in the 1890 national census, saving our country $5 million (back when a million bucks was a million bucks).

“There are over 3000 tree boxes in Georgetown”, says Betsy Emes, head of Trees for Georgetown.  “The price of everything has gone up from the fences to the trees.  Two years ago we had big damage due to snow and many trees have had to be removed, so there are more vacant spaces.  We are doing our best to plant as many trees as we have can, so we are raising money to plant more.” 

Each tree, including installation, tree fence, and mulch costs $900.   Be a Patron for $1000, a Sponsor for $500, a Friend for $150, and a Junior, if you are under 35, for $75. There will be a drawing for a free custom protective tree box fence at the party!  Pay at the door or send your donation for the fundraiser to Bob Laycock, Trees for Georgetown, 3258 O Street, N.W., Washington 20007.  General donations can be sent to CAG, 1365 Wisconsin Avenue, N.W., Suite 200, Washington DC, 20007.  For further information, email Betsy Emes at Betsyemes@aol.com.

Not Just a Voyeur…

Not Just a Voyeur…

I have already purchased my ticket for the Georgetown Garden Tour.  It’s not until May 9^th, but I can’t wait, so I’ve bought my ticket to ensure that soon I will be walking through Georgetown with a pass that will give me entree to some of its loveliest and most exclusive gardens.  It’s like holding the golden entrance ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. 

I last went on the Georgetown Garden Tour in the early 1990’s. I moved to Connecticut the following fall, and consequently haven’t been on the Georgetown tour since.  Though I’ve been on many tony tours elsewhere, it remains my favorite. It’s not just that I am a voyeur (actually, I like to think of myself as “one in search of inspiration”).  There is something uniquely singular about having permission to breach garden gates and doorways where access is normally denied, and entering what are essentially separate universes divided from the real world by a mere garden wall or fence. 

Setting up this garden tour is a gargantuan task undertaken by the Georgetown Garden Club that begins with the enlistment of diverse gardens.  This year, as Georgetown Garden Club member Jane Matz assured me, “The contrast in the gardens is small and large, very modern and very traditional, lawns and pools, guest houses and tree houses.  We're thrilled to get every garden, as most visits to Georgetown never let you see the charm and expanse behind the houses”. 

 

Yet it’s not just finding gardens and gaining permission to display them.  Volunteers must be assembled, homeowners reassured, sponsors found, vendors arranged, publicity organized, and other logistics anticipated and thought-through.  Surely prayers are said as well, not only for a beautiful “day of”, but also for a “Goldilocks spring” – neither too hot nor too cold, neither too wet nor too dry.  One of the garden owners told me last week that,  “preparing has been easy but a bit frustrating in that the cold winter delayed the production of the flowers”.  Hardly had he uttered his words when, of course, the weather turned unseasonably warm!

This year’s tour features nine superb gardens. Several are formal, but one belongs to an old farmhouse – one of those delightful surprises one discovers in Georgetown.  Several of the gardens are professionally designed including one that is congenial to wheelchairs (you might never notice), a formal garden that is unexpectedly large with gravel paths and a swimming pool, and still another that is, according to designer and long-time tour organizer, Edie Shafer, “snappy and stylish”.

Evermay will be on the tour, but will not be the only garden of historic significance.  After all, this is Georgetown!  One garden boasts a water pump that was used to supply water when the White House was under construction and another was once owned by Abraham Lincoln’s only surviving son.  Its’ boxwoods are said to have been planted by Robert Todd Lincoln himself over 100 years ago, just blocks from where his brother, Willy, was once buried.  Its’ owner confided to me that  “what stuns me about the yard is the feeling of quiet and country and we are literally one block from M St. I feel like I am in Middleburg when I sit back there. Also the history is very stirring, with the only remaining cornerstone of 1751 Georgetown.”

As a plant lover, I am dying to know what will be blooming a week from Saturday – tulips, bluebells, roses, wisteria, dogwoods, azaleas, peonies, alium, the catkins of Corylis avellana “Contorta” (but you expected a bit of Latin)?  I find myself trying to anticipate what will be out, what will be gone by, and what not quite there yet.  Since each walled garden is it’s own microclimate determined by site orientation, shade or sun, and other conditions, it will be fascinating to see the variation in plant development from one garden to the next.   I have also heard there are edible plants in some of the gardens.  I’m dying to see how they are arranged.  Then there are the pots, containers, and urns:  Will more exotic summer annuals have replaced pansies?  It’s all too exciting!

And being of an acquisitive as well as an inquisitive nature, I don’t mind confessing that I’m secretly looking forward to having tea at Christ Church’s Keith Hall (between 2-4 pm) and browsing various items at the Garden Boutique.  I am told there will be herbs, small topiary standards from Cultivated Gardens, vases from Middle Kingdom, and various items on consignment from Georgetown merchants for sale.

Fortunately, one can enjoy the entire day, the tea, and all without guilt since the proceeds of this wonderful tour will benefit the preservation of historic parks and public spaces. Tickets are $30 before May 2 and $35 thereafter.  I will see you there!

Read more and get tickets at ww.georgetowngardentour.com/index.html

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Spring Comes to Dumbarton

When I left my two-acre Connecticut garden for a postage stamp in Georgetown, friends and acquaintances alike asked me in sympathetic tones “how can you leave your garden?”  I smugly rejoined that I was moving to a place where I would “have” several gardens, like the one designed by Beatrix Ferrand at Dumbarton Oaks, where I can meander at will without having to fuss about ground hogs, weeds, pruning, etc.  I imagine it’s a bit like being a grandparent:  You get to enjoy your grandchildren and then hand them back to their parents when they need changing or hit puberty.

With this in mind, to escape the Capitol’s preoccupation with a threatened government shutdown and enticed by an e-mail announcing that the “gift shop is in Bloom” I headed to Dumbarton for a stroll. Arriving in late afternoon, I bought a reasonably priced season pass and found that it is not only the shop that is in bloom.  The gardens are at that glorious mid-spring moment when nearly naked trees and shrubs stand side by side with others heavily endowed with breathtaking blossoms and spring green leaves – quite literally breathtaking, as my allergies suggested.

Dumbarton's ancient katsura

I love Dumbarton not just for its rich panoply of plants, but also for it’s stunning layout.  It has good bones so it is just as beautiful in mid-winter, bereft of leaves and flowers, as it is in peak spring, a test of good garden design.  While it is full of Italian, French, and British influences, and its plants hail from the four corners, I like to think of it as truly American, a melting pot of influences yielding a unique and inspiring result still evident though Farrand’s original design has been altered over time. 

While you can walk straight up to the gardens along the gravel drive from the R Street entrance, I prefer to enter along the shaded, shrub enclosed walk on the south side of the East Lawn to pay homage to the ancient Katsura (cercidiphyllum japonicum) featured there.  The leaves on this Asian native, which turn a gentle yellow-orange in fall, are heart shaped, which is what “cercidiphyllum” refers to, but they are not yet out.  As a result, this specimen’s magnificent structure, from root to twig and stark against the fresh greenness of the spring lawn, is completely captivating.  Whether upright or weeping, Katsuras are hardy in zones 4-8, require consistently moist soil, and are a superb choice for large spaces. 

Yellow epimediums

Dark pink epimediums

Deep in the heart of the gardens, I stumbled into the Prunus Walk where the flowering plums (Prunus x blireana) were peaking.  I know I should have been more excited about these trees, replacements for the original yew hedge, but I was utterly mesmerized by the groundcover beneath them.  There, blooming above a dusting of fallen plum petals is deep pink and pale yellow Bishop’s Mitre (epimediums).  There are over 60 species of epimediums, some of which are purported aphrodesiacs, hence another common name: “Horny Goat Weed”.   They are low growing hardy perennials, mostly from China and central Asia.  Charming enough for their heart shaped leaves and drought tolerance, their delicate blooms are to die for – tiny flowers resembling a miniature cross between daffodils and columbines and ranging in color from yellow to white to lavender and this delicious dark pink.  My epimediums in Connecticut, unmolested by deer and groundhogs, were too far from the house to be enjoyed.  Now I will include them along my front walk where they will revel in part shade and I can easily see them.

Pink crabapple just breaking bud

Crabapple Hill is just starting to peak as well.  It’s worth the hike up from the lower gardens to see these trees breaking bud.  I love crabapples (Malus) because many varieties are nearly as beautiful in fall and winter as they are in spring when they bear beautiful small persistent red, orange, or yellow fruits. The trick when choosing crabapples is to be sure you have one of the fruiting varieties that are disease resistant because, as members of the rose family, they are susceptible to nasty blights that can leave them looking perfectly horrible in mid-summer.

Icy blue Ipheon -- the darker ones
are gorgeous, too

In front of the house I came across one of my favorite bulbs in full stunning bloom.  Spring Starflower (Ipheon uniflorum), from southern South America, is a fantastic shade of icy blue (it also comes in white, dark violet and pink) and is perfectly sited in slightly shady spot beneath a blooming pink and white viburnum.  Its slightly garlicky smell is off-putting to squirrels, which otherwise flagrantly dine on tulip and crocus bulbs, and it naturalizes beautifully.  It needs to be tucked where its fall grass-like leaves are not annoying, just like the Armenian grape hyacinth (muscari armeniacum) that blooms near Dumbarton’s main gate.  Indeed, I recommend planting them together because they are an eye-catching combination.

Swathes of muscari

The guards at the gate are very polite, but I took the hint the third time they asked me if I’d enjoyed the gardens.  It was closing time, so I thanked them for their patience, and reluctantly walked through the graceful gates.   With my season pass snug in my wallet, and Dumbarton’s excellent gardeners on duty, though, I know I can come back any day between 2-6pm, except on Mondays, to enjoy “my garden” again.

Northern Exposure

Northern Exposure

March 28, 2011

Last week, when I thought it was spring, I yanked the straggly hydrangeas and ailing boxwoods from my front walk, leaving a lovely blank space, just begging for new plants.  My front walk is on the north side of the house.  This northern exposure means I’m going to have to find things that will thrive in deep shade.  As I often do when in need of inspiration (or just feeling nosy), I walked around the neighborhood to check out what is “going on” in other north side gardens.  It is admittedly a little early for most perennials, but this didn’t deter me. 

 Spiky Mahonia aquifolium

Determined to hunt down “plants of interest” (sniff), I walked several blocks before being stopped in my tracks by a plant that reminds me of my childhood in Seattle.   Oregon grape, (Mahonia aquifolium -- don’t you love Latin?) has been in bloom for weeks now, displaying clusters of yellow flowers in 2-3 inch racemes (flowers that bloom along a stem).  Mahonia is not for the faint-of-heart because of its off-putting spiky dark green leaves that turn purplish in winter.  I rather like its fierceness, and delight in memories of smearing its dark bluish purple berries on my little brother’s t-shirt as a child.  It is often used as a foundation plant and does best when protected from winter winds because as tough as those leathery leaves look, they are susceptible to desiccation. 

Chaenomeles flouting the cold

Encouraged, I soldiered on along the cold shady sidewalk when I was distracted by a glorious quince (Chaenomeles speciosa), in full bloom across the street.  By this time I was chilled and digressing to photograph this gorgeous Chinese native in full sun was irresistible.  Like many deciduous early bloomers, it begins blooming on bare, spiny twigs before its’ leaves appear.  Quince’s emergent leaves are tinged with a complimentary reddish-bronze color that softens into a dark green in summer but drop in autumn without changing color.  While it blooms best in full sun, I have seen it growing in dry light shade where it still blooms well.  Quince is used as a specimen, as espaliers, in mass plantings where fall and winter interest are unimportant, and mixed in borders where colors ranging from white to pink to salmon colors are wanted.  Its fruits are not remarkable but can be used in preserves, and its salt tolerance makes it an attractive alternative where road salt is problematic.

Surprise scilla tubergeniana

Back to the shady side of the street.   Tucking my collar up as the cold breeze reminded me that snow was due (honestly!), I trudged on and was delighted to discover bulbs blooming that I didn’t recognize.  It’s scilla tubergeniana or s. mischtschenkoana (why have one difficult Latin name when you can have two?), a sweet white six-petalled flower with the odd common name “White Squill”.  This Iranian native was introduced to the Netherlands (of course) in 1931 and like other scillas, tolerates shade. There’s a gorgeous photo on-line of white squill planted with snowdrops and white crocus so I will order lots when I get to the bulb planting stage in my new garden.   Yum.

A perfect daphne

Around the corner a fragrant winter daphne (daphne odora aureomarginata) was in full bloom in a very shady spot.  Its dark green leaves, edged in cream reminded me how dramatic variegated plants are in shade.  The great thing about variegated leaves is that they lend the verisimilitude of dappling light in dark areas just as they set off adjacent flowers or dark green leaves.  This species of daphne bears charming clusters of tiny pink flowers, which are as fragrant as any jasmine, especially in warmish sun.  I was pleased to see it in such good shape because although it is hardy to Zone 6, we have had some nasty cold spells this winter that might have damaged it.  I have always adored daphnes in spite of their temperamental disposition.  They are reputedly short-lived so, as Michael Dirr says, “Once planted, do not move, prune, or abuse in anyway”.   Sounds like some people I know!

Elegent Andromeda

Andromeda (pieris japonica) is also blooming around Georgetown.  I found several white-blooming shrubs in various sizes looking fresh and beautiful.  I grew them in Connecticut because of their deer resistance and early flowers, though I am not crazy about the varieties with bright red new growth.  That works best for me at a distance in a large garden, but depending on your preferences, it could also work in a smaller garden where red is appreciated.  There are pink cultivars that are absolutely delicious but perhaps more delicate than the rough and ready whites.  Andromeda’s susceptibility to lace bug requires them to be planted in shadier areas, and in small gardens, compact cultivars are better than larger ones which tend to become leggy. 

Straight from the Himalayas

I also came upon an old Himalayan friend, which works very well in borders or mass plantings.  Sweetbox (Sarcococca hookerana) is a low glossy leaved shrub with tiny cream-colored flowers in March and April that can be amazingly fragrant on a warm day.  I was introduced to it at Tudor Place where I remember its fragrance wafting up the back of the garden making me feel as though I’d walked into the tropics, a welcome rebuke to winter.  It did poorly for me in Connecticut but I may just try it again here for it’s glossy, pointed leaves and low dense structure.   

I could go on – there are epimediums, skimmias, euphorbias, even rosemary, and other wonderful plants starting to bloom around town – but will stop here.   I’m off to the nursery, now the snow is past.

Go to Hellebores!

Last Saturday, shocked and dispirited after reading the newspaper and watching the morning news, I found myself stumbling out the door for a walk in hopes of lifting my spirits.  Having spent the better part of the previous four weeks shuttling from a gray New York to a cold, rainy Chicago and back, I was so glad to be back in Georgetown, gladder still for the vernal sunshine, relatively warm temperatures, and promise of early spring flowers.

Helleborus orientalis

I was bound for the Old Stone House to see if the hellebores were blooming.   I was introduced to hellebores at Tudor Place back in the early 1990’s, and grew them in Connecticut for their beauty and deer resistance.   Hellebores can bloom as early as December, depending on the species.  They had yet to stir in January, however, the last time I’d gone to look and discovered them winter-battered and flattened from snow and ice.  The Lenten Roses, (helleborus orientalis) at the Old Stone House, dead leaves removed, are blooming in white and various shades of mauve now with remarkable beauty and are worth a trip for any flower-starved gardener.   

Another species grows beside them, helleborus foetidus, which is my favorite.  It was also in bloom, but there was only a single plant.  I love it’s greenish-blue leaves all year around, and its fabulous long lasting chartreuse flowers which look amazing when planted with spring bulbs of any color, and I like them best planted in masses.  They can be prolific self-sowers, which is good because they occasionally die out leaving their seedlings to soldier on.  I have never found them odiferous, like their name suggests (one of its common names, I hate to say, is dungwort – not kidding), but have heard that they can smell down right nasty if they are cut and brought indoors.  Hellebores of all kinds are perfect for an urban garden, especially planted near doors or windows so they can be easily seen in late winter.

Magnolia x soulangeana

The hellebores are planted near the M Street entrance of the Old Stone House, beneath a saucer magnolia, possibly Magnolia x soulangeana, a cross between magnolia denudata and magnolia lilliflora.  It is named after a former cavalry officer (Etienne Soulange-Bodin) who survived his military service in Napoleon’s army, and went on, in 1820, to create this cross, one of the more popular spring blooming hybrid trees in cultivation. I adore magnolias, and this one, like several others around town, was just about to burst open in a gaudy pink and white display, complementing the colors of the hellebores beneath it. 

Cornus mas

Spirits buoyed, (I am a simple soul), I walked back home, with a lighter heart noting with pleasure the various blooming bulbs (scillas, snowdrops, and crocus, etc.).  The real surprise, though, is on 33^rd  Street, where a dazzling Cornelian Cherry (cornus mas), stands in full yellow glorious bloom.  I don’t know whether it’s just more gorgeous in Zone 7 or works better as a specimen in a small garden, but this small shrubby tree just stands out screaming “Spring is upon us” like nothing else.  I have seen the Cornelian Cherry, which is a native of Central and Southern Europe and parts of Western Asia, in mass plantings in larger gardens in zones 5 and 6, and though lovely, this particular specimen beats them all.  They can grow up to 20 feet tall and have a fairly round shape, usually branching quite low if not pruned, with nice dark green foliage in summer, yawn-ish fall color, and somewhat interesting bark for winter interest.  It’s moment, though, is now, followed by good sized, but discrete red berries favored by birds and intrepid makers of jelly.

Witch-hazel (hamamelis)

A little further along the street is a small witch-hazel that is blooming on the north side of a house in pretty convincing shade.  It has been blooming for several weeks and I was delighted to see it blooming still, it’s delicate strappy petals looking crisp against their brick background.  Like the Cornelian Cherry, forsythia, and winter jasmine, winter-blooming witch hazels bloom before their leaves emerge.  I love this because the yellows of these plants stand out against the colors of the stems on which they bloom, dark in the case of the Cornelian Cherry and witch hazels, and greenish in the case of winter jasmine and forsythia, all of which are also blooming now.  Incidentally, if you are a rose gardener, you already know that it’s time to cut your roses back when the forsythia bursts into bloom.

I am on the road again now, and hate to miss this moment when spring ousts winter and the magnolias, cherry trees, dog woods (did I mention that the Cornelian Cherry is actually a dogwood?  I should have), and crab apples burst forth.  Who knows what will be out when I return?