Hats off to our Valdés sculptures! (Photo by Sarah Paulson)
A blizzard’s aftermath is often far from charming, especially when you’re out on a Saturday, shoveling your way to the curb in soaked pant cuffs. Slushy sidewalks and snowed-in parking spots are no better. But when you’re not obligated to clean up the mess, those first moments after the snowfall can be magical. That was certainly the case here at the NYBG over the weekend (though our dedicated groundskeepers might beg to differ).
The snow that Nemo brought to the northeast covered the Garden in a fluffy white blanket, framing the dark trunks of the trees and making for picturebook scenery. And while we were quick to clear the roads and walkways, we left the great lawns and the Forest relatively untouched; only this morning, walking into work, I found the snowy lawn surrounding the Grand Allee laid out under a sheet of mist brought on by the falling rain.
But while my Saturday was spent unearthing my Hyundai from its makeshift Everest in Long Island, our photographer, Ivo, was on the scene immediately after the storm, snapping pictures of the fresh snowfall. He was kind enough to supply a few of them for us to toss up here, as well as our Facebook page, so have a look!
The climate outside is in a bit of a state, to put things lightly. But a few steps inside our Nolen Greenhouses for Living Collections, the sleet and snow give way to nothing short of a tropical oasis. It’s here, among the kaleidoscope of plants housed within, that you’ll find thousands upon thousands of orchids–all waiting to make their way into the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory. It’s sort of a bubble of pleasantry on an otherwise heinous Friday.
With just a few weeks left of our Tropical Paradise exhibition, there are still myriad opportunities to warm up and shrug off the chill. But we figured that on today of all days, you could use a toasty peek at what’s in store for New York come March 2. We stopped in with Kevin Character and the orchid wizard himself, Marc Hachadourian, to see how The Orchid Show is coming along under the glass.
The jade vine is in bloom, at long last. You probably see us referring to this seafoam green siren at least a few times a year, and with good reason–it sports unmatched color and form. Few plants boast the kind of spontaneous annual following that this one’s earned. Look for it in the Conservatory!
Strongylodon macrobotrys — Photo by Ivo M. Vermeulen
Travis Beck humbly recalls his first gratifying experience as a landscape designer, a xeriscape project he planted with his own company in Colorado. “It was a small border,” he says, “but we finished on time, on budget, and it grew in very nicely.”
Years later, walking through the multi-tiered landscape of the Native Plant Garden, his ego still keeps to a small space–though his undertakings seldom do. The words Beck uses to describe his work are efficient and to-the-point, even as our tour group skirts the massive water feature he’s helped realize at the center of this latest NYBG revision. But his pragmatism has a purpose in this near fairytale landscape, just as it does in his recently published book: Principles of Ecological Landscape Design.
Not one to settle for the “green” aphorisms being passed along in today’s design industry, Beck’s book captures his approach to environmentally sound landscapes with practical examinations of the before, after, and in between of each project. Thoroughness is key and few aspects are left to chance. More than a simple source of inspiration, Principles of Ecological Landscape Design is a compendium designed to address every consideration for the professional or student designer. Plant selection, competition and coexistence, wildlife interaction, biodiversity, and stability are only a sampling of the many topics tackled.
The weekend forecast promises prodigious snow for much of the northeast, so get outside and enjoy the fluff-free skies while you can! The squirrels, meanwhile, can only be looking forward to the wintry playground to come.
Scott A. Mori, Ph.D., Nathaniel Lord Britton Curator of Botany, has been studying New World rain forests at The New York Botanical Garden for 35 years. From 1978 to 1980 he took a leave from the Garden to serve as the Director of the Herbarium of the Cocoa Research Center in Bahia, Brazil.
A close-up of pods of a chocolate tree. The fruits can also be red at maturity.
On a previous blog, I covered the natural history of chocolate but failed to admit my addiction to this melt-in-your-mouth delight. This problem of mine has reached the point where I have asked my wife to hide it from me, and then only dole out small portions on special occasions. Nevertheless, I still scheme to get more chocolate from her. But she has become familiar with my tactics as the years have passed, making extra rations almost impossible to get my hands on.
Of course, chocolate doesn’t begin as the confection we know and love. The fruits of the cacao tree produce two edible treats for humans–the first is the pulp that surrounds the seed and the second is the bitter seed that, after processing, becomes the source of our favorite chocolate. Although the pulp can be made into a delicious juice, I usually open the pods and suck the pulp from the seeds to quench my thirst and boost my energy when I am collecting plants in the field. The pulp is the reward given to monkeys and other animals in exchange for disseminating the seeds, carrying them from the mother tree to a place where they have a better chance to germinate and escape predation. On the other hand, animals do not eat the seeds because they are too bitter.
