These are Scilla sardensis, the common name is Glory-of-the-Snow. They are native to the mountains of Western Turkey but are really comfortable growing in almost any condition, as you can see. They are, for us, the real harbingers of spring. We know that once we start to see this electric blue color, the season is starting for us.
Performance artist Jon Darc's movements unfold like nature's hidden gem, the Queen of the Night flower, serving as a powerful metaphor for emergence in inhospitable environments.
The Eckling is designed specifically for balcony corners, addressing a gap that rectangular window boxes and round hanging pots have never managed to fill. Most railing planters sit along a straight stretch of rail, so corners get skipped entirely. An L-shaped recess cut into the base of the hemispherical bowl allows it to rest squarely on two railing legs at a corner junction, no extra hardware required.
My mother first planted those same bulbs (or their parents) in her garden, which is half a mile from here, in the 1970s. When she died a decade ago, I took them first to our old house and now to this property. I'd actually forgotten the last transfer: a scoop of both the bulbs and surrounding soil, a short car journey, then a hasty reinterment in a hole on this south-facing slope.
Each flower is made using balloon twisting or sculpting, where long, thin modeling inflatables are folded and locked into shapes. Making a single flower takes time and skill because these materials don't behave so well when twisted tight. In Ballooms' case, they're flexible and sturdy, enough to hold onto like a bouquet.
Spring ends the winter season like light ends the darkness. The coming of spring reminds us of the peaks and valleys of life. If you are in a valley, know that there is light at the end of the tunnel and a peak will come soon. Just as the seasons change, so too will your life.
Garden angelica, Angelica archangelica, belongs to the Apiaceae family, the same botanical group as carrots, celery, fennel, and parsley. Like its relatives, it produces a large, distinctively umbrella-shaped inflorescence, or flower cluster, called umbels. In its first year, the plant forms a lower mound of bright green leaves. In the second, a thick, hollow stem shoots upward and unfurls the broad green flower heads that resemble wild carrot or Queen Anne's Lace.
To see where the moon melts over the garden,or where the bats flit, or where the air sweetens with pollen and moth-frenzy, I recommend a night walk to discern the perfect patch for it. Under this glow, we could all use a distraction-dig with a silver shovel and choose colors that swoon and moan under our satellite: dusty pinks, baby blue, lavender, white, and butter yellow gems unfurl at dusk until dawn.
There is a strong temptation to stay indoors when the world freezes. But out there in the cold, and especially after snowfall, the brown bones of gardens are suddenly emphasized, outlined in white. Visiting gardens in winter, when leaves and flowers belong to dreams of spring, allows us the thrill of anticipation, the pure pleasure of comparison, and an appreciation of structure, adding layers of understanding to our experience. It also tests our plant identification skills.
Instead of running to the store every time you need a handful of fresh basil (and inevitably letting the rest go to waste in your fridge), having an herb garden of your own allows you to only take what you need. While this in itself is a great sustainable practice, try taking it a step further by starting an herb garden in old plastic fruit containers.
Opening this Saturday, February 7, and running through April 26, "The Orchid Show: Mr. Flower Fantastic's Concrete Jungle" has transformed the garden's Enid A. Haupt Conservatory into a bloom-laden remix of the city itself. Imagine taxis dripping in orchids, fire hydrants flowering over and everyday street scenes electrified by thousands of plants from around the world. "We're so excited to introduce you to the full diversity of the orchid family," said Jennifer Bernstein, NYBG's CEO, at a press conference on Wednesday.
Fortunately for me, roses happen to be edible. While technically the entire plant can be eaten, it's best to stick to the petals, buds and hips (as if I had to tell you not to chomp on their thorns and woody stems). Fresh or dried, rose petals can be used to make rosewater or rose syrup, as pretty garnishes for cakes, and to infuse into sweet treats such as ice-cream and panna cotta.
There is a type of rhododendron which makes a superb container plant, and even performs greatly when pot bound, since many species are epiphytes in nature. https://growplumeriafrangipani.blogspot.com/2011/04/tropical-rhododendron-vireya.html These are vireya rhododendrons. https://scholar.lib.vt.edu/ejournals/JARS/v32n1/v32n1-leach.htm https://rhododendron.org/vireya/index.html https://rhododendron.org/vireya/gallery.htm https://www.rhododendron.org/vireya/archive/StevensNRBGE85.pdf https://www.rhododendron.org/vireya/archive/CallardRSF2011.pdf https://www.rhododendron.org/vireya/history.htm http://scholar.lib.vt.edu/ejournals/JARS/v46n1/v46n1-moynier.htm Many vireya hybrids were created in the Bay Area, especially at the San Francisco Botanical Garden which was the Strybing Arboretum. https://scholar.lib.vt.edu/ejournals/JARS/v45n1/v45n1-morebeck.htm