Blooming in the midwinter mist

An old, unidentified Camellia sasanqua variety flowering in my garden.

For the moment, Washington state seems to be one of the few places in North America saved from the hard winter storms, experiencing milder than average weather. Rain, fog, and again rain... In Scandinavia, winters are a time of complete calm and rest in the garden, all mistakes of the last year covered by snow and the next season existing only in dreams. Here, the garden year continues through all seasons, with no forced breaks to relief the tired gardener. Every month and week, there is something flowering or otherwise in season; so many possibilities to add to your enjoyment and to the beauty of your garden.

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I was just looking at my post about Witchhazels and other midwinter wonders from January 2009, and found that it could have been written now. Actually, I think that post was so much more beautiful than this (being a mere list of plants in bloom), but I still want to document some of the flowers out in gardens this January. Maybe next year will be a lot colder, and then it will be interesting to come back and see the difference...?

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The gracefully arching Sarcococcas are in full bloom; kneeling amongst the bushes at the Washington Arboretum I tried to find a label that would tell which species I was admiring, but there was none to be found. Could this be S. confusa?

And Witchhazels, one of the first out again; the Chinese species Hamamelis mollis with its bright yellow stamens reaching the sun in the wet, cold weather.

Mahonias seem to have many enemies; earlier I also thought them to be quite unattractive and coarse in appearance. But lately, I've started to appreciate how their flowerheads burst out like fireworks in the midwinter sun. Here Mahonia x media 'Arthur Menzies' finding its way to the sun through a thicket of Witchhazel bushes.

Lonicera stadishii, Standish's honeysuckle, comes originally from China, and grows up to large bush, ca 6 feet tall. It seems to be semi-evergreen here in Washington, and the fragrant, white flowers open up in the middle of the cold of winter.

Viburnum tinus, the Laurustinus, is a Mediterranian native and the last plant on my list today. It was a great favourite in the Victorian shrubberies, and I've always thought there is something prudish about its neat and proper appearance (nothing luscious or extravagant here...!). It has dark green leaves and pink buds that open to clusters of tiny white flowers and turn into black-blue berries in late summer. It is very resilient and tolerates even drought during summers, and therefore still very popular in gardens in temperate zones. A common and not very exciting plant, really, but one that still earns its place in many gardens as a hardworking performer.

The Bloedel Reserve on Bainbridge Island

I have often sat flipping through my book "1001 Gardens You Must See Before You Die" (edited by Rae Spencer-Jones, 2007) looking for inspiration for garden trips. Now, I don't take this or any other guide book too seriously; coming from a small country, I know how easily real pearls of gardening are totally ignored even by seasoned, foreign garden editors. And how much can you trust a writer who misses both Norrvikens Trädgårdar and Göteborg Botanical Gardens in Sweden, and finds only one garden, Villa Mairea, to write about in whole Finland? Anyhow, the Bloedel Reserve has a well-deserved place in this guide. Last Saturday, despite a cold and rainy weather, our little family headed for the Bainbridge Island, thirty minutes ferry trip from Seattle. And truly, we were very well rewarded for our efforts as this garden proved to be one of those magical places you really would not want to miss if ever given an opportunity to visit them.

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The Bloedel Reserve started as Collinswood, a retreat for the Collins family in the early 20th century, and the main house in French chateau style by Seattle architect J. Lister Holmes was built in the middle of the Great Depression in 1931. As this property came to market in 1950, Mrs Bloedel was very attracted to the house, while Mr Bloedel was very impressed by the woods and nature of the place, and so Collinswood was sold to Prentice and Virginia Bloedel together with the surrounding 60 acres. 49 years old, Mr Bloedel had just retired from his lumber business and ready to pursue other tasks in his life. The Bloedel Reserve became a work of garden art accomplished over 35 years by the Bloedels. It is a series of designed experiences interacting with the surrounding wilderness, following Mr Bloedel's vision that the Reserve should be an example of man working harmoniously with nature and where his power is used cautiously and wisely.

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My girls shivering in the rain, a bit doubtful about mom's ideas of good ways to spend weekends...

The walk around the Reserve starts with a long meadow and old barns that used to house Mrs Bloedel's sheep. This quite large and essentially empty area works like a cleansing of the senses after arriving to the Reserve. The Reserve is very careful about preserving the landscape's quietness and reserves spaces only for a limited number of visitors at scheduled intervals, which I find very attractive as this gives the visitor a possibility to experience the site like it was before it became a public garden.

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The pathway circles from the barns past large, moss-covered trees and native shrubs to a bird refuge, where trumpeter swans paddle around together with ducks and other birds. This area was designed to give the birds a natural habitat providing them food and shelter.

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After the bird refuge, the path continues through the wilderness, arriving via a trestle bridge to a Japanese influenced boardwalk past cedars, firs and hemlock trees. The boardwalk gives a possibility to view closely the surrounding wetlands, containing a large planting of skunk cabbages (Lysichiton americanus) and even a few carnivorous pitcher plants. I was quite overwhelmed by the strong scent of the skunk cabbages, which is actually quite pleasant despite the name. Last time I had smelled this scent was when I was five and living in Northern British Columbia, and now I could instantly remember it even before seeing the sulphur yellow flowers. I felt very nostalgic telling to my girls how I picked these with my older sister pretending they were rabbit's ears when I was small...

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After the wilderness, the track suddenly merges with the driveway to the house, with a large expanse of lawn and a beautiful pond in front of it. The white French style house forms the focal point of this view and only when coming close to it, you notice that it actually is quite small in scale, an intimate family retreat in classical style placed in the middle of the Pacific Northwest forests. The main rooms of the house open to a magnificent view of the Puget Sound, with an eagle's nest fully in sight from the backside terrace, as it is situated quite high above the sea level.

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At the North side of the house, there is a man made waterfall (from 1954) with a small lookout terrace, then the track continues through the ravine planted with rhododendrons, viburnums and skimmias. Native oxalis, also called sorrel (Oxalis oregana) forms large mats as a groundcover. A bit later, salal (Gaultheria shallon, a leather-leaved native to Western North America, covers the ground from which Himalayan birches (Betula jaquemontii) raise their ghostly white, slender trunks. Most of the perennials were still just tiny shoots, but I imagine this part of the track will be quite magical when in full flower.

The Japanese garden surrounds a tea house, style wise a hybrid between a Japanese tea house and a Pacific Northwest Indian longhouse, designed in 1964 by Seattle architect Paul Hayden Kirk. A Japanese stroll garden behind the tea house of the Reserve was built in 1960-61 by Fujitaro Kubota, a nursery owner and garden designer from Seattle, also known for the Kubota Gardens. The stone garden is a later addition, designed by Koichi Kawana and built in 1986. It is a meditative garden, meant to involve the viewer to interpret the setting and to imagine features appropriate to him/herself. Somehow, the tea house was a bit too large for true intimacy and felt more like an official meeting place, but I thought it would be lovely to sit here with good friends, discussing this wonderful garden with a cup of tea in our hands.

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The moss garden was created in 1982 and forms a large area cleaned from most other vegetation than moss, huckleberries, some ferns and skunk cabbages. This was an idea of Richard Haag, then the Reserve's landscape architect, and Richard Brown, who was the Reserve's executive director at that time. To create the moss cover, some 2200 plants of Irish moss (Sagina subulata) were brought here and divided in small plugs which were planted. I was surprised to read this, as the whole surrounding forest is covered in luxurious mats of moss, but indeed, despite the "natural look", the whole area is planted. I loved this part of the Reserve, it felt so calm, understated and elegant. Somehow, even birdsong sounded softer, and I could just imagine small trolls and fairies gathering together here in the dusk.

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The last "experience" is the Reflective Garden, with a large, rectangular pool enclosed with a high, clipped yew hedge. This strong but simplistic feature was one of the Bloedels' favourites, and they had carefully considered several different approached before settling for this design, partly together with their friend, landscape architect Thomas Church. The reflective garden is like a man made frame to the beauty of nature that is always reflected on the calm, dark surface of the pool. It is like a living painting, always new and different depending on the time of the day, light, and weather. The remains of the Bloedels were placed in this garden at their request, and I can understand their wish to be one with their beloved garden. As Prentice Bloedel is quoted to have often said, "the nature does not need us to survive, but we need nature in order to connect with a sense of creation." The Bloedel Reserve is a magnificent testament to two nature and garden loving persons, with an understanding and appreciation for the uniqueness for their beautiful surroundings.

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A stumpery in progress...

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I admit that I am not the biggest fan of rhododendrons (good, reliable plants for many situations, but they really don't tickle me...), but I decided to check out the Rhododendron Species Foundation & Botanical Garden, while visiting the adjacent Pacific Rim Bonsai Collection today. As expected, it was far too early for anyone else than the most hard-core rhodo enthusiasts to visit this garden; almost nothing was flowering yet (besides a bright, Christmas-red variety). Instead, I found the staff in full swing creating a stumpery, mainly using stumps from large trees taken down by the winter storms. The area will be planted mainly with ferns, and I expect it to be an interesting visual addition to the garden.

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Stumperies were quite popular in 19th century gardens, and the first known example of them was built in 1856 at Biddulph Grange in England. They seemed long to have been buried with other Victorian horticultural oddities, until Prince Charles a couple of years ago chose to create a secret stumpery at his Highgrove estate. They have been gaining popularity since then, and as stumperies provide a good home for wildlife as stag beetles, toads and small mammals, I can't see any reason for not including them in gardens (you might need a fair-sized one though...).

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Definitely worth visiting for anyone interested in species rhododendrons, The Rhododendron Species Foundation & Botanical Garden is a non-profit membership organization dedicated to the conservation, public display and distribution of them. The park has one of the largest collections in the world, with over 600 of the more than 1,000 species found in the wilds of North America, Europe, and Asia, as well as the tropical regions of southeast Asia and northern Australia. As Steve Hootman, the curator for the collections, mentioned while I was visiting today, conservation has become very important in recent years with the destruction of Rhododendron habitat in many areas of the world. Most of the plants here are grown from seeds collected by Steve and other plant collectors.

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If you are interested in having a really special rhodo in your garden, visit the Plant Sales Pavilion for unique plants; the Foundation also has a mail-order catalog loaded with rare plants available for shipping or pick up. The gardens are located at Federal Way, ca 25 miles South from Seattle in Washington.

Witch hazels and other midwinter wonders

It is only my first winter in Seattle, but I already disagree with all reports of a rainy and dull place that would better be avoided. Instead, I have fallen in love with these foggy and cold winter days; just look what I enjoyed this morning in the Washington Park Arboretum, only a couple of minutes drive across the lake. So many beauties flowering in the middle of January, gently wrapped in the fog, giving themselves off by their delicate scents! I first went to see the witch hazel collection in the Southern end of the Arboretum, but surprisingly none of the plants there were flowering. But then, I fortunately had better luck in the Witt Winter Garden, near the visitors centre.

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Most of the witch hazels at the Arboretum are of the Chinese species Hamamelis mollis or Hamamelis x intermedia, which is a hybrid between the Japanese witch hazel Hamamelis x japonica and H. x mollis. Especially lovely is the excellent, strongly scented cultivar of H. X intermedia 'Pallida', here in full bloom, looking like clusters of lemon zest are hanging from its branches.

Another beautiful, but less scented cultivar is Hamamelis x intermedia 'Winter beauty', with much darker orange petals. I just love the way the damp climate here makes mosses and lichens to grow so well and to cover many of the woody plants, often looking like green flowers themselves hanging to the branches.

The stinking helleborus, Helleborus foetida, with its pale green flowers in full bloom complements well the witch hazels.
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The European hazel, Corylus avellana, is quite common in the wild in Sweden, and my garden in Sweden had many of these large shrubs growing around it and producing small, dry nuts late in the autumn. Commercially cultivated hazels are called filberts. They are most often hybrids between Corylus avellana and Corylus maxima, the giant filbert, which achieves thirty feet and produces large, edible nuts. Corylus maxima 'Atropurpurea Superba', seen here with its large, purple catkins, is a beautiful and unusual relative of these cultivated hazels.

A new find was the fragrant wintersweet, Chimonanthus praecox, which flowers for the moment with a strong and sweet, hyacinth-like scent. It seems otherwise to be quite an unattractive shrub, a bit like the more common forsythias, but in the right place, where it can hide behind showy perennials during the summer months, it definitely earns its place in a garden for its scent.

Another "friend" from my time in Melbourne, Australia is the silk-tassel bush, Garrya elliptica that I used to admire when it was flowering in the middle of the mild Australian winter. This genus was actually named for Nicholas Garry, a Secretary of the Hudson’s Bay Company who assisted David Douglas in his explorations of the Pacific North-West in the 1820s. It is both an evergreen and a drought tolerant plant, and native to woodlands in Western USA, Central America and the West Indies. The male catkins are the most attractive, just like for so many other early flowering plants as hazels and birches. An especially attractive cultivar with extra long tassels is Garrya x issaquahensis (pictured above), cross that was found in a private garden in Issaqua near Seattle for some years ago.

And just one more picture - I just loved this bird's nest up in a large Magnolia, full of silky buds. What a beautiful place for the small baby birds to start their lives in when they hatch in the spring!

Washington Park Arboretum

Yesterday I visited the Washington Park Arboretum, a huge urban green space on the shores of Lake Washington just east of downtown Seattle. The Arboretum was designed by James Dawson of the Olmsted Brothers firm (Frederick Law Olmsted is noted for the plan for New York's Central Park together with Calvert Vaux), and was developed in the 1930's.

On totally 230 acres of land almost in the middle of the city, the Arboretum has over 20,000 trees, shrubs and vines, more than 10,000 of which are catalogued in collections. 4,600 different species are cultivated varieties from around the world. Collections include rhododendron, azalea, mountain ash, pine, spruce, cedar, fir, crabapple, holly, magnolia, camellia, and Japanese maple.

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I found it quite amazing to see such variety of plants (some of them trees over 30 meters high) so centrally located in Seattle. It is a great asset for the inhabitants of a city to have this kind of green area to enjoy - during our visit, the park was full of families, joggers and citizens just enjoying their day in the cool shade of the trees.

The plan of the park lends itself well to walking and jogging around, the paths wind and curve gently in the landscape and there is always something new to discover behind the bends. Some of the "displays" (if you can call living trees so...) are arranged in botanical order, which makes them somewhat boring. Clumps of different species of mountain ashes are far more botanically interesting than visually so. But there are areas of great esthetic interest, as the Joseph A. Witt Winter Garden, the Woodland Garden or the Japanese Garden. For the moment, the climbing roses are in bloom and I saw a spectacular Rosa mulliganii climbing up a young Western red cedar, Thuja plicata (which was about 15 meters high, see below). It made the tree look like a young bride covered in white roses or... a Christmas tree in the middle of the summer!

What I would have liked to see in this arboretum was plant tags on all trees, even the largest ones, showing the exact names of the species. Now I could only find them on the smaller trees and shrubs, which made me a bit disappointed as I really wanted to learn about the trees of this part of the world. Otherwise, the Arboretum is definately worth a visit and there's a risk that it will become one of my favourite places in Seattle!

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