These are dark days indeed.
All traces of life slowly fade from the landscape as the hours shorten and shadows lengthen.
The autumnal dance now done, the trees lie brittle and bare to the sky. The last perennials splay and shiver like a ghost army defeated by the rain and wind.
But with this kind of darkness, there is nothing to fear.
My first morning in Chicago, I found myself inside a giant silver bean.
Actually, it was a rare moment of solitude inside Anish Kapoor’s Cloud Gate on my way to see Piet Oudolf and his urban masterpiece, The Lurie Garden.
Not just any public garden, the Lurie is built atop a massive parking garage roof, transformed by architectural sleight-of-hand into a slice of incandescent prairie in the heart of the downtown’s Millennium Park.
This just in.
I interrupt my previously-scheduled blogpost to share the superlative news that Piet Oudolf and Dr. Noel Kingsbury are teaming up to present a new online global course with MyGardenSchool.
I’ve been doubly spoiled over the past month by inspiring encounters with exceptional plantsmen.
First up, I reconnected with über designer, Piet Oudolf in the form of a two-hour transatlantic Skype call to Hummelo, which turned into a one-on-one masterclass in planting design.
This was followed by a three-day visit from American plantsman, writer, and prairie whisperer Roy Diblik, who came up from Northwind Perennial Farm to speak to the Canadian chapter of the Garden Writers Association at our annual meeting here in Toronto.
I’ve learned to never quarrel with serendipity.
Yoo-hoo winter. Where are you? Can you come out to play?
Here in Toronto, you’ve been pretty much a no-show. Temperatures yesterday shot up to a record-breaking 15.5C for this date in February. The only snow in town are Snowdrops (Galanthus), which are strangely starting to bloom– months ahead of schedule.
For gardeners, winter is anything but dormant. It’s a season to dream, learn, think, and plan. Literally sowing the seeds for a new season of possibility.
