sprig to twig

Pretty cheeky of me to presume to show you my pictures of Scott Weber’s garden when his own shots are so stellar, but here goes…

If I were forced to come up with a word to describe the style of this garden, it would be “billowing”. This is a guy who obviously loves plants and is always willing to shoehorn one more into these voluptuous borders.

Crowded, maybe, but never out of control. The steep bank between house and sidewalk offers a great staging area to showcase the mind-boggling plant collection. Scott had us in stitches with his stories of the embarrassing mishaps that befall a gardener trying to dig on a steep embankment.

On the other side of the sidewalk, slightly raised beds continue the extravaganza.

See all that deep green in the background? Scott’s garden is tucked into a hidden and very private neighborhood surrounded by mature trees.

A fondness for grasses is everywhere in evidence. Seldom have I seen them incorporated so skillfully into a planting scheme.

I admire the way he has left seed heads standing as architectural elements after the flowers have faded.

Several handsome varieties of sedums show up in the hell strip.

I’ve had my eye on a ‘Tiger Eye’ sumac. This clinches the deal…must have one.

It doesn’t hurt that the bright orange Crocosmias and the dark foliage of Actea set the stage so beautifully.

Scott stays right up to date with the vagaries of plant nomenclature. Eutrochium used to bear the name Eupatorium. I think I’ll just call it Joe Pye Weed and be done with it.

Several plants were new to me, like this Selinum Wallicianum.

Around the side of the house, this copper archway leads into a back garden choked with many varieties of Agastache and the hummingbirds that have appropriated them.

And here is our host, conferring with Loree of Danger Garden fame. Their styles of gardening could not be more different, but the love of gardening binds their friendship. Let’s hear it for diversity!

I was meeting a friend for lunch. Our first choice was Tara Thai, where a magnificent heritage tree shades the large deck. As it turned out, they were closed Mondays. No problem…nearby is Meriwether’s, where you can tell from the outside somebody in charge cares about plants.

While no where near as dramatic as the heritage tree, there is no lack of leafy shelter for the large outdoor dining deck.

So in we went, asking for an outdoor table.

This is a popular fair weather destination, so I was glad we had planned on an early lunch. Best to get reservations if you plan to eat here.

There are varying levels of exposure to the sun, and the whole space is enclosed and shielded from the street.

With plantings all around the perimeter and special touches like a pair of these giant urns flanking the entry and a gurgling fountain centrally located, it feels like a garden party (with a sound level to match, making quiet conversation a challenge). Meriwether’s maintains its own farm, so the salad greens are a wonder of crisp freshness (a little underdressed for my taste). This was a favorite haunt back when it was L’Auberge and then The Woodstove. This latest incarnation is less a culinary experience and more a place to revel in one of Portland’s rare perfect days.

Each McMenamins Theater Pub has its own character, while the signature funky/artsy approach is a constant. Their domed building in St Johns was moved here after doing duty at a Worlds’ Fair. The inside of that dome is paneled in wood and is where movies are shown.

The grounds are not as meticulously kept as at, say, the Kennedy School property, but this unusual oak lording it over the parking lot lets us know there is a plantsman afoot.

The vibe here is casual/friendly. You can see that it makes Richard happy. The pub-grub is unremarkable and the spinach salad was swimming in dressing…best to ask for it on the side (am I hard to please, or what?)

Mature trees and shrubs create a nice sense of enclosure.

A variety of textures keeps it interesting.

A few outstanding specimens were unknown to me. I loved this one.

I think that is a tamarack tree in the center of the above shot: something we don’t see every day. All of the foliage keeps this space cool and pleasant. No AC in the theater, but by nightfall it was time to take what was left of our beers inside to watch Snow White and the Huntsman (pure escapism).

Portlanders flock to outdoor tables the minute the sun comes out. I don’t really see the attraction of sitting on the sidewalk with cars rushing by. We needn’t settle for that with these two oases (and many others) offering leafy alternatives. Of course, a streetside seat on any corner of 23rd Avenue is prime real estate for people watching.

I’ve been in computer hell all day, trying to set things right after a hack attack. Grrr. A quick post linked to Wendy’s Garden to Table Challenge should calm me down. See that pile of cucumbers? That’s one day’s harvest from the four little plants I raised from seed. Last year during canning season I steamed up the whole house day after day. My mission this year was to find a better way. On line I learned that a pressure “cooker” would not suffice. A pressure “canner” is now the only approved method to arrive at a pantry full of safe food. Well, that’s just silly: homemakers have been putting up goodies since time immemorial using a hot water bath, as have I. Still, since mold can be a problem around here, I went on a quest for a pressure canner. They ranged in price from $160 to $250. Back to my old steamy system…but then…TADA!

THIS beckoned to me from the shelves of trusty old Fred Meyer, Scappoose, where the homelier arts prevail. 100 bucks was beginning to look downright cheap, and after applying a couple of coupons to an already reduced price (don’t they know that canning season is in full swing?) I could justify going for it. Much as I hate an accumulation of different tools for every conceivable purpose, I must admit that this one nearly earned its keep with just one batch of pickles. My other system: a stock pot with a cake rack on the bottom, would only hold three pints at a time. This thing takes on seven. See what four little cucumber plants can drive you to?

Perhaps it’s just too easy. Pieris, also known as Andromeda or Lily-of-the Valley shrub, likes our climate, and so we see it everywhere. The old “familiarity breeds contempt” cliché kicks in and grumblings can be heard expressing distaste for a versatile shrub that manages to look good year-round with little to no coddling.

The yellow leaved variety has new growth that ranges from pinkish to almost white, and is a nice alternative to the lovely but only marginally hardy Choisia ‘Sun Dance’.

I’m still on the lookout for one with this pink new growth, which matures to a pleasant medium yellow-green.

Here’s one with deeper pink new growth. Unlike shrubs that sport flowers this impressive, the leaves simply turn slowly greener, rather than withering, dropping and creating a big mess.

The new growth on variegated varieties can be especially interesting.

‘Winter Fire’ is the only one I can name for you. Sorry for the lack of scholarly research, but late April, early May would be the time to go shopping to see what the colors will be.

I quite like the linear effect of buds forming.

I find them least attractive in full bloom: faintly reminiscent of a high school prank.

At Joy Creek they prune their Pieris to show off even the flowers to best advantage.

Unlike some pruners, who spare themselves flowering, but at what cost?

In fact, if you want to see Pieris at their best, Joy Creek in the spring has a number of different varieties in their display gardens.

The other thing I noticed when driving around working for the US Census was that Pieris has found its way into foundation plantings along with more interesting conifers than had been the norm. Since we started gardening on a large property it has become less important for every tree or shrub to be a conversation piece. Sometimes something that can hold its own against the elements, make few demands upon the exhausted gardeners and look better than merely presentable through all the seasons is just the ticket. More leaf lovers’ talk over at Digging.

So…now that I’ve made my case for this much-maligned shrub, what do you think? Have I changed your mind? Did you like them already? Can you imagine one taking up residence at your place?

My favorite plant at the moment is Ricinus communis ‘Impala’ grown from seed. Several others in better locations (in my opinion, obviously not the plant’s) are taking longer to get going. Highly poisonous, but no one or thing has tried to eat it yet, not even the targeted gophers.

Salvia ‘Black and Blue’

The flowers on the Dorotheanthus ‘Trailing Red Mezoo’ are coy little things.

‘Casa Blanca’ lilies light up the shade and perfume the air.

This is a bit of a cheat, as the drumstick Alliums are well past their prime, but I like the way they have come up through the long swooping branches of the Physocarpus.

This was a surprise. Aloe ‘Carmine’ usually blooms during the indoor months.

Echinops banaticus ‘Blue Glow’ is best loved here in its bud stage, but once it fluffs up the bees go crazy.

For the hummingbirds, Fuchsia ‘Golden Gate’ is the entree of choice.

I’m having to start over with Dahlias. I only dig them every three years or so to divide, so those rough winters wiped me out. This one is ‘Cotton Candy’, picked up for half price on the sale counter at Portland Nursery and nursed back to health. It is now way ahead of the others I planted as rhizomes.

At last! A bloom on Eucomis ‘Sparkling Burgundy’.

Not a very good shot of the lone water lily, but since one of the fish showed up for his close-up, I thought I would include it. Oops! Just noticed there are two fish. Can you see them?

The Hydrangeas are the workhorses of the late summer garden. This one is ‘Preziosa’.

‘Limelight’

Don’t you just love it when something reblooms unexpectedly? The ‘Orange Ball Tree’ is putting out a few of these fragrant bright orange balls right now. That’s it for me…well, not really, but you don’t want to see pictures of all 111 plants in bloom here. Instead, join the party at May Dreams Gardens for a floral celebration of August.

First off, my apologies to anyone who was shunted off to a sexual enhancement site when trying to visit sprig to twig. I just spent time on the phone with tech guru John (my hero) who somehow managed to undo the damage wrought by some hacker while my back was turned. Now on to the fun stuff.

Finding myself in the general vicinity, I decided to drag Alberta Street and check out Thicket, a shop I had heard about. It is actually a little off of Alberta, on 23rd.

As soon as I stepped through the gate, I knew this was a find. This tabletop display featured a pair of urns planted with succulents.

A small collection of conifers crowds one corner.

Everything looked very fresh, even on the hottest day of the year.

This seating area in the shade was inviting.

This one was in the sun, but the bright white and the cool greens of the tabletop gardens managed to create a cooling illusion.

A small shed houses the business end, with some room for a few displays.

Hanging under the other end of that shelf was a group of hummingbird feeders that match my aesthetic.

So of course I had to bring one home. I had to move it out under the trees, because the little nipple leaks sugar water. It remains to be seen what the hummers will think of it. They are preoccupied with fuchsias these days. This is by far the most pleasing to me, but the birds’ stamp of approval, so far, goes to the ugliest of all the models I have tried…they’re as bad as some clients back when I was a graphic designer.

A nice selection of succulents tempted me out of my “no new plants until fall” stance, and I picked up this Echeveria ‘Black Prince’…

and this pale green one that was not labeled. In conversation with the manager, I learned that Thicket is only a couple of months old, and already they are eying the building across the street facing onto Alberta. I hope it works out. This is a business that deserves to grow and prosper. I encourage you to click on the link to their elegant web site (at the top of this post) and, if you are in the neighborhood, by all means stop by. You will find, in their words, “a charming tangle of botanical curiosities, found ephemera and modern craft to inspire life lived in the garden.”

Saturday was a scorcher. How fitting, then, to be invited into the danger garden, where Loree has long proclaimed her love of hot summer days and the plants that thrive in them.

Leave it to my procrastinating self to arrive at mid-day, the worst possible time to get good photos. I have discarded most of the ones I took, but a few that are passable will give you an idea of Loree’s style…a very definite style with a point of view, a limited palette and a partiality for spiky plants. The entire front garden is mulched with gravel, a perfect setting and environment for the chosen plants. Here are an Agave and a Ceanothus.

Texture plays a big role here.

Look at the wicked thorns on that Rosa pteracantha. When the light is just right, they glow like they’ve been possessed by the Devil himself, gaining them passage into the Danger Garden, the only rose you will find here.

A row of Black Mondo Grass lines the front walk, backed by a row of Eucomis before giving way to a less formal arrangement. A hallmark of this garden is restrained exuberance.

With her prodigious collection of pots, she is able to stage vignettes like this whenever there is an opening. When I say that she uses a limited palette, I certainly don’t mean boring. The pots run to silvers and grays, with punches of chartreuse, orange and red. The house is painted a deep, chocolate brown, a color that shows it all off to the very best advantage.

Even the VW bug sitting in the driveway seems to fit into the scheme of things, as we head past the potted veggies toward the back of the house.

The house color takes on different tones in different light, as here it provides the background for Acacia provissima

See what I mean about the pots, and the bright accents?

A lush tapestry of plants surrounds the area…

and segues nicely into the sunken patio…

where our hostess served up colorful and delicious refreshment in the style to which we had quickly become accustomed. We lingered and chatted and soaked up the ambiance…hellish temperatures be damned. If you have yet to discover the Danger Garden, a treat is in store for you, and it’s only a click away.

Our drive to Orofino ID was a forced march. As usual, we got a late start and finally arrived in the dead of night. Next day dawned bright and clear and I headed out with my camera to take a look around.

This is a place where the deer must be taken seriously. Hence the elevated vegetable garden surrounded by a sturdy fence.

The neighbor up the hill has horses…which accounts for the vitality of the veggies-on-steroids.

Vegetarian Nirvana, and the start of some mighty fine meals for the rest of us, too.

Outside the fence, plant selection must take the deer into account. Barberries, opium poppies and iris are pretty successful. Bishop’s weed covered this area along the side of the barn for years, until some of the herd developed a taste for the stuff and wiped it out in one short season. Maybe they could rent them out?

The beautiful Clearwater River rushes by the front of the house.

Plus, there is a small pond on the property.

Nature does a swell job of landscaping on most of the land. Here, chickory and thistle punctuate tall grasses with splashes of blue.

We were visiting R’s sister Kathryn and her husband John. Here is the entry to the lower level of the house, where we had our own apartment. They should be careful about making guests so very comfortable.

This rather grand entry was part of the latest remodel. They bought a little, nondescript house on a blank piece of land when they were first married and have been remodeling, in stages, ever since. With this last round, the house almost lives up to its “location, location, location!” Now they’re starting on the barn.

On the return trip, we got an early start so that we could dawdle along. The hay inside looks to be the only thing holding up this falling-down barn. When we pulled up, a couple of horses were nibbling through the openings.

Up the hill from the barn (one of many old barns that are sinking back into the landscape) sits an old fashioned windmill…

while looking down the road, you can see the new-fangled versions marching across the hillsides. I love these things. I know many people consider them a blot on the landscape, but they are so slim, so aerodynamic, so space-agey. To my eye, they take very little away from the scenery. If you squint, you can barely see that they are there.

I don’t know what this guy was doing here amid the cows, horses, sheep and buffalo, but he definitely got our attention.

Ghost town? Movie set? What do you think?

Just on the outskirts of the charming little town of Waitsberg we spotted a lavender farm. I would have called it Lavender Fields Forever, but they went for Lavenders R Us, and yep, that R was backwards on the sign.

But a cheesy sign could not detract from undulating seas of lavender, interplanted with a few xeric companions like Echinops & Achillea

Oh, to be a bee.

Can anyone identify this shrub we found as we bid the lavender fields goodbye?

A Close-up provides a little more to go on.

When I was in France, many years ago, everyone knew about Walla Walla WA because of the Pogo cartoons. Remember “Walla Walla wash and Kalamazoo”? Now it has a new claim to fame as the center of a rapidly growing wine center. In a town full of old brick buildings, this one faced with glazed tiles stood out.

And then we were back in Oregon. Time to stop at a roadside stand to pick up some Hermiston melons and Walla Walla Sweet onions. The last leg of our journey took us through the Columbia River Gorge, where my puny photographic skills had no chance of capturing the majesty of the scenery. Great trip! Good to be home!