The tulips gained fame in 1912, when it was widely reported that a tulip with four distinct blooms on one stem had been spotted at the palace, and the following year, it was reported that the palace had its best display in many years.
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.
Southern California, especially Los Angeles, has many breathtaking botanical gardens and wildflower-lined hiking trails. But it's also exciting to visit private home gardens that are rarely open to the public and find inspiration even if you don't have space for a garden at home.
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.
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.
Lots of pressure at this time of year, isn't there? All those pink cheeks and sweaty brows puffing their way around the park in dusted-down trainers; all those Botivo mocktails (delicious, for what it's worth) as we strive to self-improve during one of the most grisly months of the year. I've never really been one for resolutions, nor time-measured sobriety (amazing how having small children deflates one's desire to drink enough to conjure a hangover).
Step inside NYBG's Enid A. Haupt Conservatory and be transported to a seemingly alternate universe, where everyday city sights like fire hydrants, pizzerias, taxi cabs, subway stations, construction zones, stoops, everything that screams New York City , are adorned with thousands of meticulously designed flower displays. The result feels like a floral fever dream of sorts. From a brownstone covered in cascades of brightly colored flora to a train station
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.
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.
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
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.