Through the Dark

"Will I ever be able to find rubber work boots in my size?"

The yearly approach of autumn is signalled by such dilemmas. Suddenly, the faithful duct-tape of summer fails to measure up to the promise of torrential rains. This is the Wet Coast of British Columbia. We must be prepared.

A blanket of a different wool, the first signs of autumn are unmistakable. Hesitant mornings, a midday light that is low and forgiving, and a faint detection of decomposing leaves. If one listens very carefully and quietly, the slow retreat of chlorophyll from the leaves can be heard. Quiet as silk flowing over an open hand.

With half-hearted anticipation, I find myself counting the impending winter months over and over on the fingers of my hand, absentmindedly losing track.

 One. Two. Three. Four. Three. Four. One.



















Equally repetitive, the challenging work of autumn has a delayed result. Up to our knees and elbows with mud, we plant thousands of bulbs, placing  them deep into the ground so that they, too, can emerge from the dark.


One. Two. Three. Four. Three. Four. One.

Little Worlds

Drip...drip........drip. 

Every time the clouds open, little worlds pour down. The garden, quiet after the sudden exodus of fair-weather tourists, is reclaimed by the imagination.

The science of art: the power of observation and a curious mind

An apple falls on the head of a man. A glass splits. Some would run. Some would not.

Violet

Meet my hero and universal scientific icon, Sir Isaac Newton: a man with insatiable curiosity who was always in the right place at the right time.

The brilliant insight of Sir Isaac Newton transformed everyday occurrences into scientific and mathematical theories. Simple observations processed through the curious mind of this genius have given the rest of us a better understanding of the physical workings of the world around us. Gravity. Light. Motion. Little wonder he is considered one of the most influential scientists in human history.

Blue

What does science have to do with art?

Everything.

Green

By dividing white rays of light into colored wavelengths and configuring them on a colour wheel, he was the first person to reveal colour relationships. As all artists know, colour, more than any of the elements of design, is all about relationships. By moving away from linear orderings, the connection between adjacent hues and value differentiation became apparent.

Colour my world, baby....but make it balance.

Yellow

Just as Sir Isaac transformed the practical into the theoretical, the artist must translate theory into practice.  From my experience, this switch can be equally problematic. Shifting information from the verbal to the visual center of our brain can best be described as a partial shift of consciousness. Can the theoretical aspect of colour ‘overpower’ and suppress creative intuition? I hope not!  As colour relationships are processed in the visual centre of the brain, the resulting activities of reflection, analysis and articulation are left to the domain of the verbal brain processes.

 Orange

Violet. Blue. Green. Yellow. Orange. Red. And all combinations in between.

.....and, if you haven't already gathered, I have a lust for colour......

red

Alliums: Take a walk on the wild side

Economics. Pure Economics.


(long sigh...)


As garden design can be a costly passion, it is essential to make financially sound, rational plant-buying decisions.  The initial investment must be equal to or less than the accumulative outcome. Hence, at the nursery, tortuous decisions face the overwhelmed gardener at every turn. With the current trend towards the fanciful, extravagantly short-lived and zonally denied, gardening has become a game of chance. The biggest loser? Our piggy banks.


                                 

Let me introduce the allium......

Literally, rising high above the near-misses and maybes, the allium satisfies the most discerning soil-shufflers. Long valued for it's culinary attributes(garlic, onions, chives, shallots), the allium is now spreading its ornamental wings over the horticultural word. And why not?

A visually-striking form. Intense, Vibrant colours. Titillating flower structures. A presence that persists long after tiny petals have long disappeared. It is the bulb that keeps on giving.

Place your bet on the allium this fall.....and take a walk on the wild side!

A few of my favourites:

Allium shubertii

Allium christophii

Allium 'Purple sensation'

Allium caeruleum

Allium moly luteum

Allium 'Hair'

Allium sphaercephalon

Don't leave me out

Game on!

                                                                                                      

If formal annual garden design was a game of hockey, foliage would be the first line of  offence: a reliable performer always ready to put the puck into the net. Unlike the unbearable anticipation required by the over-rated slow-to-develop flower, the leaf enters early in the game, exhibiting an immediate show of colour and texture. Vibrant hues, light-capturing indumentum, radiant vein-work, the luminance of stained-glass -- the attributes are endless. 

      
(Bettina's Gardening Rule number 2: Always look at the big picture)

(Iresine, Coleus, Alternanthera, Taro, Duranta, Sedum, Echevaria

Red Banana, Canna, Secretia, Strobilanthes, Perilla.....) 

For a gardener, creating visual interest throughout the season is a formidable task. Immune to the flower-pickers and never with a dead-head to remove, foliage is a key component of the medium that perpetually challenges and engages. 

No colour, no texture? 

Five minutes in the penalty box!

Dew drops on a Black Calocasia leaf. 

Fresh drops on a fallen Ginkgo leaf

Underneath a Canna leaf in the rain.

Lost in the weeds

Charles M.  Schulz, the creator of the beloved 'Peanuts,' must have been a gardener for only a gardener could have so accurately illustrated the anxiety Snoopy felt when suddenly found in a patch of grassy weeds. There is nothing more terrifying to round the corner of a forgotten area of the garden only to witness the sudden dispersal of hundreds of winged weed-seeds at the mere suggestion of wind.

(Buttercup's Gardening Rule Number One: No Weed Shall Go to Seed.)






Weeding is to gardening what vacuuming is to housecleaning: it is only noticed when not done. And, just as there are those who embrace vacuuming and those who are averse to it, gardeners are divided into weeders and non-weeders. I am, and have always been, a weeder.  Similar to an archaeologist uncovering a ruin, I enthusiastically liberate shrubs from the strangle-hold of morning glory, roll up carpets of chickweed, don eye-protection for snap-weed removal and suit-up for Heracleum eradication. Time is sucked into a void as piles of homeless plantain accumulate on the lawn.

Weeds are an impressive and visually striking group of plants. Just as I respect the ingenuity of the crows that pull out my laboriously planted annuals, I respect the plant mechanisms which have allowed the thistles, dandelions, etc. to evolve and persevere and claim their title as weeds.

....... and isn't respect the cornerstone of any successful relationship?

Crisp and glistening, the fresh greens were marched quickly past our watering mouths. I could barely catch a glimpse of the velvety smoothness of the goat cheese before the plate was purposefully placed on the table by Chef Kathy Jerrits. Although we were all at Tria Culinary Studio to take Jackie Connelly's Food Photography 101 course, our minds slammed a collective brake when told "this food is not to be eaten, only to be photographed."


Excuse me?  Not to be eaten?


With the goal of a post-class lunch of smoked salmon crepes to lead my empty and protesting stomach on, one excruciating click led slowly to the next. 

Always having believed that art is the greatest illusion, I was nonetheless astounded by the level of creative trickery employed by food stylists and photographers. Stabilizers, special powders, glycerin and blow-torches...anything to create an image worthy of the real thing.