Snowdrops on Magnolia Bend

Ok—well, we really are still in winter but for the most part you would not know.  With multiple days in the 40’s and 50’s there is lot of activity in the horticultural world.  Early flowering shrubs such as fragrant honeysuckle (Lonicera fragrantissima), witchhazel (Hamamelis vernalis) and winter jasmine (Jasminum nudiflorum) are in blossom and the snowdrops are making a show on the March Bank as well as in woodland pockets throughout the garden. 

Glancing at the long range forecast on the Old Farmer’s Almanac web page (gardeners are obsessed with weather) they predict that the month of January will be 5 degrees above normal.  For those of us that like to spend time outdoors gardening or hiking to ward off the effects of cabin fever, this is most welcome news (sorry about that snow enthusiasts!).  This weather trend has been a wonderful carry over from December where the garden saw a flurry of activity by those hoping to enjoy some time outside with friends and family and walk off a few of the cookies and candy that made their way to the winter waistline.  With a warm weekend in the forecast, the garden should be hopping yet again with walkers and more floral activity as the blossoms respond to the winter sun and spring-like temperatures. 

The sad part of this warm season tale is that Winterthur will close to the general public from January 9th through February 29th.  The upside to this tale is that if you are a member, you have access to walk the garden and grounds while we are closed…and what a treat that is.  There is nothing like the feeling of having your own “private garden” and the soulfulness of watching spring unfurl before your very eyes.  There are many magical moments in the winter garden such as seeing the early morning light illuminate the fuzzy flower buds of magnolias or the waning afternoon rays backlighting a forest of beech leaves still attached to the trees.  There is also plenty of wildlife to view from waterfowl to song birds at the feeders. Maybe your sole interest in walking the garden is keeping that New Year’s health resolution going; the miles of paths and inclines promise to deliver a good cardio-workout; that is unless you stop to look at the flowers!

So at the risk of sounding like a salesperson, if all this winter activity sounds appealing to you and you are not a member why don’t you consider becoming one?  Information about membership benefits can be found on our website, www.winterthur.org or by calling 302 888-4713.   (I get no kickbacks from this endorsement!).  I hope to see some new faces out in the garden this winter and to all the rest I look forward to seeing you in March!

One of the definitions of chestnut I have found is “a stale joke”.   Another is “something, as a story, lacking freshness or originality”.  Perhaps I should put down the dictionary before it’s too late.  The chestnut that I would like to refer to in this writing is under the definition of “a tree”.

Chinese chestnut trees (Castanea mollissima), although there are none growing in the Winterthur garden itself, are found scattered amongst the estate. One location is near the old Winterthur creamery by the dairy barns, another by the golf barn along Chandler Road as well as a couple others located on the Biederman golf course.

In late summer the fruit of the Chinese chestnut tree, which is edible to humans, begins to drop. The nuts themselves are enclosed in a spinney or prickly pod-like structure that splits open when ripe. Sometimes the nuts will drop from this casing before the pod falls. Other times the pod falls with the nuts still enclosed. If one wishes to open a pod that contains a chestnut or two, be sure to wear some thick leather gloves for the spines are very fine and also very sharp! The nut of the Chinese chestnut is very tasty when roasted but I have found that of the ones that I have personally collected, about 50% of them are either rotten or have a worm in them. I suppose that cultivated trees are probably sprayed with something to prevent these things from happening. Also, since squirrels, deer and other wildlife also enjoy the taste of these nuts there tends not to be many left for a person to find on the ground especially when, as in the case here at Winterthur, you’re only dealing with a small number of trees from which to harvest.

Our native chestnut (C. dentata), as you probably know, was decimated by the Chestnut blight in the early part of the 20^th century. An estimated three billion trees were lost due to this disease. The American chestnut was a dominate tree species in it’s time and supplied a vast number of wildlife species such as deer, turkey, bear and the extinct passenger pigeon with a food source. It was also collected for human consumption not only by Native Americans but by early colonists, settlers and immigrants. Since the American chestnut’s demise, crosses of what remains of the species have been made with the Chinese chestnut and the Japanese chestnut (C. crenata). Progress is being made to produce a tree that is not only resistant to the blight but one that has the height and habit of our native chestnut.

While I’m on the subject of chestnut trees, the common horsechestnut (Aesculus hippocastanum), which is a Native of southeast Europe, produces large fruit but unfortunately it is not suitable for human consumption.

One last comment that I would like to make of the Chinese chestnut is that if you are considering planting one on your property be aware that when in bloom, the fragrance of the flower is considered by most to be unpleasant.

So like the song goes, Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…

This year is the first year, at least that I am aware of, that a pair of hawks has nested in Winterthur’s Pinetum during the decade or so that it has been under my care; the particular breed of hawk being the Cooper’s hawk. The females of the species are slightly larger than the size of a crow whereas the males are slightly smaller than one. These hawks have long, streamline bodies and are quick fliers.  They closely resemble the sharp-shinned hawk but the Cooper’s is the larger of the two species. Most references that I’ve come across have noted that the Cooper’s is far less common than the sharp-shinned as well.

This spring while I was working in the Pinetum, I noticed the pair building their nest about 40’-50’ up in one of the tall conifers. I believe that the nest was originally built by a pair of crows last season and the hawks simply added some new nesting material on top, which is commonly done. One of the reasons that I think that this may be the first time that a pair of Cooper’s has nested in the Pinetum is that they were surprisingly noisy! During their nest building phase the female would loiter close by in a tree and whenever the male would arrive from hunting, they would greet one another with some squawking. The noise was somewhat of a cross between a chicken’s cluck and a duck’s quack with perhaps a touch of seagull thrown in for good measure. I also observed the hawks gathering nesting material from within the Pinetum itself, sometimes even from the tree next to it. Interestingly, the pair did not seem to mind people walking within their nesting territory, for they were not easily startled or disturbed.

Another observation that I made was the fact that a pair of common crows set up house keeping in another conifer not more than 50’ from the Cooper’s nest. Crows normally pester the larger hawk species but the Cooper’s are fast enough that they were the ones that kept the crows on their toes, so-to-speak. Whenever one of the crows would leave its nest, one of the hawks would be right on its tail, chasing it out of the Pinetum. I noticed that the nesting pair of crows successfully raised at least one offspring though I did find the remains of another youngster close by, presumably a nest mate. I also found the remains of an adult earlier in the spring, possibly last years offspring, which often remain with the breeding pair, acting as centurions as well as helping with feeding the young.  I don’t know if the hawks were responsible for their demise but it’s certainly feasible.

Although I would see or hear the hawks from time to time in the Pinetum, I was never quite sure how their family matters were progressing. As I mentioned before, the crows had one offspring, which had been out of the nest and flying around for a quite a while already but I had no clear indications if the hawks were successful in raising their offspring. It wasn’t until the first week in July when I saw a youngster out on the end of a branch in the nesting tree that I realized that they had raised at least one. The following week I noticed, in fact, three youngsters, all perched in one of our Blue Atlas Cedars. They all seemed to be staying within the Pinetum for the time being, even flying back to the nest on occasion. I suspect that soon they will be venturing further out for they are flying around pretty well at this point. It will be interesting to see if the mating pair returns in the years ahead to raise another family in the Pinetum!

White Arrow in Azalea Woods

Do you find the Winterthur Garden hard to navigate?  Unsure where the path may lead you?  Is the newly emerging foliage obscuring your view of the Museum (the main referencing point when out “in the wild”)?  Well fear no more! The white arrows have made their return and just in time to celebrate the glorious display of azaleas, primrose, lovely scented lilacs and a host of other spring flowering plants.

H. F. du Pont used simple, white directional arrows to help lead guests to the “must see spots” during Winterthur’s Spring Tour.  Chris Strand, Winterthur’s Director of Garden and Estate thought that it would be a relatively easy thing to replicate, while giving an historical nod to Winterthur’s original form of way finding. The white arrow tour is now in its 5^th year. The journey begins on the back patio of the Visitors Center, winds its way through the garden and ends at the back side of the Dorrance Gallery. 

If you have never taken the tour, come give it a try and let us know what surprises you discovered along they way.

Horticulturist, Jim Pirhalla lends his thoughts to one of his favorite Daffodil cultivars:

To me, for all of the garden plants, daffodils (Narcissus spps.) have it made. Let me explain. After a long hard winter when even a yellow gum wrapper or a red cola can in the yard tricks one into believing that spring has arrived, here comes the daffodil. Other plants that emerge later in the spring are probably thinking to themselves, “They show up, with their nice, clean green foliage and bright, mister sun-shine faces. Where is the competition for these guys?” And when virtually the only other thing that is leafing out along a busy country roadside is multi-flora rose, how can anyone not notice the bright yellow flower of the daffodil which was probably planted decades ago when the site was once better tended.

Daffodils are a relatively fool-proof plant. That is, as long as they are planted in a spot that will get plenty of sun while the foliage is still green. Also, if you plant your daffodils in turf, avoid mowing until the foliage starts to yellow. And don’t plant the bulbs too deeply in the ground. All of these things will send your daffodils into a sure decline with little to no bloom.

Personally, one of my favorite daffodil cultivars is Narcissus ‘Ceylon’. It grows on average to 14”-18” in height with yellow petals, as one grower describes as “buttercup”. It has an orange to orange/red corona with a cup of medium proportion. Its bloom time is a bit earlier than most daffodils, around early to mid spring. For my garden, that would be typically in early April. It is also touted as being a long bloomer and I would say from my personal experience, that would be true. ‘Ceylon’ has, in my opinion, a simple yet “country nobility” look about it and is a daffodil that is not going to be obtrusive in size in the landscape, but is also not going to be lost in it as well. I would say that Narcissus ‘Ceylon’ is a perfect daffodil for a landscape of modest proportion. Plant some bulbs this fall and enjoy these true beauties next spring!

A not so successful snowdrop shot

The morning light crests the hill.  The birds are singing their spring songs.  I have the garden to myself.  I take a deep breath, I bend forward. I exhale. I take a deep breath and come back to standing.  I take a deep breath and bend at the knees to a crouching position.  I breathe and stretch a little further.  I exhale and come back to standing.  No, I am not practicing yoga in the garden (though that might be nice). I am contorting my body and holding my breath to capture that perfect photo of the March Bank in its full snowdrop glory.  I wish I could say that I got the result I was looking for.  The truth is that the camera can not fully deliver the experience of seeing something in person.  I had what I thought to be the right elements in place; morning light, overcast conditions, multiple angles yet it barely captured what I was seeing.

My husband was a professional photographer in an earlier life and has provided me some tutelage along the way.  I set up the scenario of my “yoga shots” and asked him what went wrong.  He mentioned a few terms—manually opening the aperature, bracketing, f-stops—things that the average “point and shoot” photographer may not know.  Essentially it comes down to the camera’s light meter averaging out all that it was taking in—pure white, reflective flowers on a dark background. The camera “averaged to middle grey”; the end result, a mediocre picture.   He went on to sing the praises of the of the human brain; how our eyes are constantly “adjusting the light meters”, continuously sending multiple exposures to our brain and our brain seamlessly puts them together to create the perfect picture and the perfect experience. 

 I bring up my photographic failure not because I enjoy public humiliation but to emphasize that there is no replacement for the true experience.  This is becoming more and more relevant as we enter the instantaneous digital-virtual world of webcams, video, and photography and where one can “tour” a garden or museum over the computer.  It is great to be able to type in a few key words and have an image of Van Gogh’s Starry Night magically appear on the computer screen but it is no substitution for the real thing; looking closely at the brush strokes and then stepping back and seeing the image that is created and the emotion that is evoked at that moment. 

Gardens by their nature, in close alliance with sporadic weather, consistently create a certain “viewing urgency” similar to the final days of an art exhibition. Friday’s unseasonable temperatures in the 70’s pushed a lot of things into flower and a lot of things out of flower.  If you missed the large sweeps of snowdrops this year then mark it on your calendar for 2012.  If you want to see the March Bank in its “blue phase”, the period when the entire hillside transforms into a blue oasis, then plan on a visit this week and if you can swing it, visit at different times of the day.  The mood of the March Bank changes dramatically between the rising and setting of the sun. The continuous movement and intensity of the sunlight plays off of the rolling nature of the hillside, creating shadows and depth of color in some spaces while highlighting other locations.   Like the Van Gogh painting, a great amount of detail can be viewed from up close—variations in flowers and in foliage color,  but the view from afar is pure drama.  Blue is another color that is difficult to truly capture through the lens; it often can appear more purple in color than what our eyes see. I have witnessed the March Bank in this performance role for 20 years now and no two experiences are alike.  One year the effect lasted for 3 weeks, one year it hardly even made an appearance and one year I witnessed the blue at near sunset and it was electric; this is the moment where I remember the drama and emotion.  I am confident that the lens could not have captured that…

For me, there is always a jockeying between American beech and white oak as a favored specimen tree. When grown alone, they each fill the space in its own unique way; the oak with its strong, 90 degree angled limbs and the beech with a bounty of delicate grey branches; both vying, in my mind, for first place.    The beech that I speak of is one that welcomed visitors into Enchanted Woods near the Lower Sundial Garden.  This beech had a wide spreading canopy that in places was low enough that you could not walk underneath it and it shared this space with no one; just the small amount of lawn that was able to withstand the conditions.  To say that this tree had presence is an understatement.  It was the focal point—no matter the season—as one climbed the hill on Garden Lane from the Reflecting Pool toward the turnaround.  It was the punctuation point at the end of the horticultural sentence. 

This was a tree that I have long admired.  The above picture was taken in spring several years ago in an attempt to capture the expanse of its canopy and it began its slow decline soon thereafter.  The massive trunk once cut and on its side, revealed no rot; it just suffered from an ever increasing canopy failure with the final collapse occurring over the summer.  After that it was not only disfigured but deemed no longer safe. As the leaves were mulch mowed and collected this fall it was for the last time.  The plants near by that stretched for light will now have more abundant sunshine.  Understudies now take its place, like the dawn redwood off in the distance or the saucer magnolias when they will flower unobscured for the first time this April.

This is a common cycle in historic gardens where focal points and views and vistas come in and out of focus with the successive growth of plants.  In the spring we will plant a young tree, an American elm cultivar that will bring, in time, a magnificent arching presence back to the space.  I know that it is a sight that I will not witness but in my mind’s eye I can already see it.  It’s part of the beauty of planting a garden.

Winterthur Summer Interns: Mark Wolanski, Susan Fallon, Gabriela Weber, Kelly Cunningham, Christine Hare, Sam Bond

A moment was finally found in between watering new plantings to introduce you to some new faces in the garden. Our summer interns began working with us in late May and will continue through mid-August as their school schedule allows.  They work alongside staff in the department to learn plant I.D., design, and horticultural skills as they pertain to the field of public horticulture.  Not only does this give the students some hands on experience but it provides the Winterthur Garden Staff with much needed help during the busy growing season. 

Garden\Estate Interns
Susan Fallon is from Philadelphia, PA. Susan is a student at Temple University and will be graduating in winter 2011 with a degree in Horticulture. Susan first had a successful career in Medical Laboratory Technology but reached a point of wanting more from her occupation so she went back to school for a career change to horticulture. Susan first visited us during one of our GardenFair weekends and fell in love with Winterthur.

Kelly Cunningham is from Milwaukee, WI. She will be receiving her Associate’s Degree in Landscape Horticulture/Design in December, 2010 and then plans to pursue a Bachelor’s Degree in Horticulture. Kelly hopes to gain a greater sense of what direction she would like to take her career while she is interning at Winterthur.

Gabriela Weber is from Saint Louis, MO. She attends Southeast Missouri State University and will graduate with a Bachelor’s Degree in Horticulture in May 2012 with further plans to obtain a Master’s Degree in Landscape Architecture. Gabriela is very interested the design principles used by H. F. du Pont in the Winterthur garden and feels that it is important to learn from the past experiences of other people as well as her own past experiences to prepare for a future in horticulture.

Christine Hare is from Newark, DE. She is a senior at the University of Delaware and will graduate with a Bachelor of Science in Landscape Horticulture in winter 2010. Christine feels that this opportunity with Winterthur will greatly enhance her understanding of all aspects of horticulture and prepare her for a successful career in the industry.

Arborist Intern
Sam Bond is from Kempton, PA. He is currently at Penn State Mount Alto for Forest Technology where he will receive an Associate’s Degree. Sam’s special interest is in pruning and caring of trees and shrubs.

Natural Lands Intern
Mark Wolanski is from Wilmington, DE. Mark graduated in winter 2010 from The University of Delaware with a Bachelor of Arts in Geography and will pursue a Master’s Degree in Environmental Science from Wesley College in Dover, DE. Mark has been working in the Garden since March when he rotated between garden areas as a Garden/Estate Intern (Mark’s first task was trekking through the snow to help pick up debris from the last blizzard. Ahh…snow). Mark summer rotation is in the natural areas on the Winterthur property which will help prepare him for his Master’s program in September.

My name is Mark Wolanski and I am from Wilmington, Delaware. Since March I have been serving as the six month Garden/Estate intern but will be transitioning to the Natural Lands intern in May. I have recently graduated from the University of Delaware with a Bachelor of Arts in Geography. By majoring in geography, students take courses related to agriculture and natural resources, natural resource management, and environmental science. I have taken a multitude of classes ranging from physical geography, to land and water management, to economics of agriculture and natural resources. Throughout my college career, I have developed the types of skills that will allow me to be a valuable member of the Winterthur Garden Department.

After my internship at Winterthur, I will begin to work on my Masters Degree in Environmental Science. A few weeks ago I received my acceptance letter into the graduate program at Wesley College located in Dover, Delaware. While attending Wesley I will be taking courses that blend the natural and physical sciences with policy. Some areas of research I am interested in are land resources management, environmental policy, advancing my knowledge of GIS applications, wetlands science, and how these different areas are influenced by climate change.

The Natural Lands internship will help me prepare for graduate school by giving me real-world working experience by allowing me to help with environmental projects at Winterthur, by aiding the horticulture staff to implement proper management practices, and learn how to properly maintain outlying areas on the estate. I look forward to working with the entire garden staff throughout the spring and summer. Be sure to stop and say hi if you see me in the garden!

Will someone stop hitting the fast forward button, please?  Over the past seven days we have progressed about three weeks—flower time, that is. We have gone from smelling the spicy scent of star magnolias (Magnolia stellata) to the perfume fragrance of lilacs (Syringa vulgaris cvs). It makes my head spin even more to think that just a month ago we still were snow covered.   This is a whirlwind spring if ever I can remember one.  Both extremes in Mother Nature’s weather forecasts have made us have to rethink and prioritize our gardening tasks, tabling some until fall or even next spring since the window for some of our horticultural work has been greatly condensed—or even passed by. 

Our saucer magnolias (Magnolia x soulangiana) and cherries are still in flower but are beginning to drop their petals.  The emerging leaves from some of our canopy trees are shedding their protective bud scales as well which, along with the petals, can form pretty “debris” on the ground below.  One garden task that is ephemeral but a celebration of this above described moment is moving the petals aside—usually with a blower, but a broom or rake will do, too—and creating a pathway that is lined in pastel flower petals, sprinkled with a few spring green bud scales. The grove of magnolias at Magnolia Bend is a perfect setting for this petal pathway as there is a bench placed at the end to draw you in; if not physically then at least visually.

I gave a tour to a group from The Morris Arboretum on Tuesday and we stopped along the Pinetum allee and admired one of our specimen cherries, Prunus ‘Accolade’ at the height of its flower. A light breeze was coming off of the adjacent field and along with the sunlight, created a shimmering effect as the petals fell.   Everyone reveled not only in the tree’s beauty in full flower but the magic captured in that moment.  As we stood out away from the tree, petals still in our hair, a higher breeze came through and whisked the petals from the tree and in “mid flight” the breeze changed direction and the petals—still high in the air—went back toward the tree, glimmering in the light.  We had never seen anything quite like it.  Spring can be a frenzied time in a gardener’s world but it is capturing moments such as petals dropping or a first flower opening that allows us to pause for a moment, catch our breath and feed the soul.