Early on, I had to take many a stand on the important issues of the time: Yankees over Red Sox. The Beatles over Rolling Stones. Peace over War in Viet Nam.
Later in life, it was Microsoft or Apple.
I went with the Upstart.
Steve Job’s machines helped make my life creative and expressive. I identified with Apple as an inspirational company especially the undertones of political and social reform.
Macs debuted on my 26th birthday. Somewhere around my thirtieth, I bought my first, the Macintosh II. Today, two dozen years later, I joyously own at least one of every great product they make.
I remember the relief I felt chucking out the IBM clone I struggled to embrace, to make room for the new, boxy miracle machine.
I never tire of going to an Apple store, extolling to whichever salesperson I snag that, “You know, I bought my first Mac in 1988′. My words flow with an air of superiority as I set myself up with the expectation I will, in some way, be rewarded for my early belief in the company. I don’t expect the entire store to stand up and recognize my insightfulness…well, actually I kinda do.
Filed under: April Fool's, garden design, Matt James, Sanguinaria, Wild Turkey
Much of my childhood was spent in my parent’s gardens. On any given weekend, I could be seen practicing the arts of digging holes, weeding, cutting grass and raking leaves – usually under some form of duress.
Learning about gardening, however, accounted for less than half of my garden time.
I lived in a neighborhood with dozens of kids, and like most boys and girls, we played outside constantly. Whatever the season, there were always ball games going on in the street and around the neighborhood. Errant throws and hits were indiscriminate in where they landed. Balls were lost to storm drains, overly enthusiastic dogs and into the ‘scary’ woods that surrounding our block. Occasionally a ball got trapped in the groundcover and shrubbery of ‘The Feldman Gardens’. Big mistake, especially on weekends when my dad was home. We all knew this was scarier than the woods could ever be.
Though my buddies Ricky, Danny and Jimmy were by no means immune, I took the brunt of the wrath for our wayward Wiffle balls and missed football touchdown passes.
My father’s booming voice, ”Jonathan!! – get out of the garden!” still rings in my ears, albeit now more fondly than in fear.
Finally, the Springtime weather has brought my son and I out of doors. He keeps busy with toys and games while I am puttering about. We throw a ball together and have fun chasing after them down the hill, under the deck, or…in the gardens!
The first time I watched him retrieve a tennis ball that lodged itself in the newly opened daffodils, I was immediately struck by a new, yet somehow eerily-familiar, sensation.
In our generation of father and son, my footsteps have been followed with his keen love of sport and a corresponding lack of accuracy. Though no windows have yet been broken, way too many airborne launches have found their resting places in my gardens. I’ve endured decapitation of cherished flowers, trampling of coddled perennials and an overall disregard for all of which I work so hard.
The echo of my father’s siren guides me to be more understanding with Richard, but I couldn’t hold back the time a football trashed a favorite Hydrangea.
”Richard!! – …”
May the circle be unbroken.
Occasionally,when considering a topic for this blog, I’ll leave my office seeking inspiration closer to nature.
Always a fruitful diversion, an idea could wash over me during a walk along the Hudson River. Staring at clouds has precipitated ideas that seemingly fall from the sky.
This month, the gift came from a more grounded source. No longer stuck for a topic, I was stuck in the topic.
It had officially, unofficially become Mud Season in New York.
It happened during my first baseball catch of the year with my son, Richard. Due to an extremely well-hit shot, we managed to lose the ball to the wild rose and bramble patch above the hillside adjoining our yard. Following him up the slope to search for it, I saw him first get stuck in a soft ooze, then continue to sink into it. With no traction to run, I crawled my way in his direction. As if in quicksand, we both were hit with a momentary sense of panic, but quickly recovered in uncontrollable laughter as we looked at each other’s clothes and body’s mired in the saturated soil.
Not until later did we realize he had lost a shoe in the process.
The transition from Winter’s ice and snow into Spring’s warmth and rebirth is unlike all other seasonal successions. Mud Season doesn’t come gracefully. It claims no celestial markers or unique equatorial alignments. No seasonal songs sing its praises.
It started comparatively early this year. Two monstrous rain storms in March hastened the melting of a long-enduring snow cover, depositing a large volume of water into the ground over a short period of time. Our sump pumps started running on that rainy Monday and, though rain had stopped a few days after, kept humming until that Friday.
We never did find that shoe. The remaining single has been relegated to the depository for other surviving gloves, shoes and socks.
Its disappearance did stimulate another idea, though. I am reconsidered my long-standing dissent on getting a dog. It’s not that I suddenly look forward to the responsibility of walking it – but I figure a good tracker could save us hundreds on replacement clothing purchases.
I’m lucky that cats can’t find gloves. Can they?
The appearance of the native perennial plant, Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis), is a greatly anticipated event in my Spring garden. A single white flower emerges from each unfurling leaf. The leaf’s size and shape are distinctive, and the blossom seems somewhere between a Buttercup and Anenome. Each year, the spreading plants fill more and more of the garden floor.
Flowering lasts for a week or so and the leaves remain visible for a few months after that. The plants then go dormant (mid-summer here in the US northeast) and disappear underground until the following Spring.
These shots, taken over a span of only 4 days, show the brief flowering cycle.
Oh yeah, can you tell why its called ‘Bloodroot?
Though delayed by a few weeks of lousy weather, our gardens are abloom with the long-anticipated first color waves. Snow drops and crocus provided short lived but welcomed release from winter’s grip. Now we are fully into the flowering season. Daffodils are bursting all over, but the biggest and best are the Hellebores, – also known as The Lenten Rose, because of their appearance during the time of that holiday. These low growing perennials can easily be overlooked if growing out of view, but when they can be seen, what a show!
Below are 2 pictures of Hellebores in bloom, one close up of the pink flowers. The other showing the growth habit with last year’s leaves surrounding the new blooms.
- Hellebore – The Lenten Rose showing flowers over last years foliage
Hellebore - The Lenten Rose showing last years foliage
Filed under: Uncategorized
A few posts ago, I shared a sunrise in Los Cabos, Mexico. Realizing how spectacular my home town of Nyack, NY can be, I took these sunrise photos last week.
Though it continues to pour nearly every day, the following treat greeted my family during a morning break from the gloom.
Filed under: Uncategorized
This, the third of the six gardens we installed for the HGTV series, Urban Outsiders, was the smallest space we’d encountered. A mere 8′ x 20′ , surrounded by brick walls and solidly covered in soot and detritus, it was more alleyway than backyard.
We had six days to build the garden as designed. How we found room for 4 workers, 3 film crew members and a director, plus piles of demo’d concrete, new tile, mortar, bricks, and top soil is still a mystery. Three days of soaking rain added to an already tense atmosphere for claiming rights to the limited indoor staging areas located amidst the laundry room/storage space used by the building’s tenants.
Typical of NYC backyards, access from the street to site meant negotiating a series of up and down stairs, back-twisting turns, head-whacking steel I-beams, skin-tight hallways and the occasional head-scratching of how to maneuver materials spec’d by the designer which didn’t fit through door jambs.
We were all new to our forced relationship of builders and chroniclers sharing intimate spaces to create incredible gardens and TV shows. This project tested the resolve of us all. My crews worked on auto-pilot, doing great construction as they always did. I was in charge of continuity, keeping everyone on the set happy and productive.
The new design fit the site perfectly and maximized the owner’s living space. In addition to the new construction, power-washing the brick, re-pointing masonry and changing the deck railing brought the new and old elements into modern harmony. These changes are evident in the photos below.
Baseball Practice Canceled…Bicycles Back In The Garage…Firewood Returned to Porch.
On this foolish first day of April, it is absolutely no joke that snow is falling once again outside my window.
My early Spring plans have been put on hold – for a second consecutive week.
I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or worse, but these luscious pictures I took just weeks ago at sunrise in Los Cabos, Mexico – are just a happy memory. They do remind me that I am, indeed, The Lucky Gardener for having been able to witness such a stirring sight.
Filed under: Before and After, masonry, Matt James, Outside Tile Patio, patios, Uncategorized, Urban Outsiders - HGTV
Here is another garden transformation we completed in Brooklyn, NY as part of the HGTV series, Urban Outsiders. G. biloba Gardens, my landscape Design/Build company, was hired as construction contractor for six episodes of the series.
Because of the production schedule, we had only 6 days to complete the entire renovation.
This space, about 8′ deep x 25′ long, is in Brooklyn Heights, along the Promenade.
Bare concrete walls and a concrete slab floor was the view the new owners inherited.
A simple and cozy design, by show host Matt James, changed the mood from alley way to Mediterranean.
The view of the back of the space shows a sitting wall and built-in cedar storage.
The joy of Spring was put on hold yesterday as a mild snow storm made its way through our neighborhood, dropping 2 very un-welcome inches on our hopes for a quick season change.
Luckily, snow falling on warming soil doesn’t last very long and this storm followed that pattern mercifully.
The snow did provide some short-lived thrills to those lucky enough to get out to see it. Being one of those ‘Lucky’ few, I was treated to some images of melting snow interacting with the gardens and structures around my studio.
Can you guess what you’re looking at from the first photo? Maybe the second?
