Paul Lisicky is the author of Lawnboy, Famous Builder, and The Burning House. His next book, Unbuilt Projects, is forthcoming. A New York City resident, he is a contributing member of the NYBG’s literary audio tours program, an opportunity for talented writers to add a touch of poetry to the exploration of the Garden.
The sandy soil, the boggy ponds: whenever I feel an inexplicable sense of geographic safety (say, in parts of Cape Cod, coastal North Carolina, or Florida), I understand soon enough that I’m looking at a replica of my childhood backyard–or at least the woods and marshes nearby.
And yet I once wanted to be elsewhere. Or at least I wanted my plants and trees to be elsewhere. I wanted them to grow in unexpected shapes, leaves large as shovels. I wanted them to be a little scary, a little closer to life as I knew it, which felt to me both beautiful and a little brutal. (Don’t children always know that consciousness is darker than their parents remember?) On childhood trips to Florida or California, my eye went first to the plants. The plants in warmer climates weren’t bound to restraint or to the pressures of some unnameable force, the codes always changing, impossible to decipher. Their oranges could be brighter; their trunks could be thicker, their vines could grow and twist until they made a mess of themselves, until you had no idea that the plant had once been a beautiful thing.
Last week we spoke about the art of growing giant pumpkins. Now, we will take a look at some of the creative things that you can do with your pumpkins once they have been pulled from the vine.
The chef will recommend pumpkin pie, pumpkin soup, or a slice of pumpkin bread washed down with a pumpkin latte. The entertainer and the homemaker have another option, though–pumpkins crafted into splendid temporary vases. Every year I do a demonstration on festive seasonal floral arrangements intended to give visitors to The New York Botanical Garden some simple and fun home craft ideas, a few of which I have detailed here.
Honey bees still clung to the last of the chrysanthemums in the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory as workers hurried about the business of change this past Friday. The shuffling of displays marks the end of our successful Fall Flowers of Japan exhibition, and while it was saddening to see the carefully-trained beauty of the ‘Thousand Bloom’ ozukuri exit stage left, the transition from ancient gardening artistry to a beloved family tradition can only mean the beginning of one of our most anticipated yearly events.
Production began on our 20th Holiday Train Show over the weekend, an undertaking that’s a bit like watching a Norman Rockwell painting as it first meets the canvas. The Conservatory space was only vacant for a moment before the sights of New York began appearing in miniature, springing up along the walkways and setting the stage for a quarter-mile of tracks, well-known bridges, and over 140 familiar city landmarks. And this busy activity continues as we speak!
It’s not often that we’re thankful for the rare sounds of industry in the Garden. We do love our peace, and if silence is golden, it’s an abundant commodity here in a place where car horns and creaking subway trains can be so readily forgotten. But since the storm left its mark over the Halloween weekend, the sound of work being completed is–at least for the moment–a comfort.
Arborists and the horticulture staff have leapt to the task of trimming away damaged tree branches, removing fallen boughs, and returning the Garden to its original splendor. And while we may have endured a bit of a jolt, we’re already back on our feet and moving forward with a weekend of events both exciting and memorable.
A giant pumpkin displayed just before carving. (Photo by Ivo. M. Vermeulen)
For the past two weekends, The New York Botanical Garden has been abuzz with the return of the giant pumpkins. We had four mega pumpkins shipped in from different parts of the U.S. and Canada. Their weight ranged from 1,693 to 1,818.5 lbs. With colors ranging from a cheerful orange hue to pale orange, green, and silver gray, it made for a fascinating variety of size and color.
They were all reclining on multiple bales of hay like Ingres’s Odalisque in a somewhat regal and enticing fashion, surrounded by a harem of smaller heirloom pumpkins and gourds.
Before the exhibition opened, I arrived early one morning to see the pumpkin aficionados carve an opening in the back of the pumpkin and carefully remove all the seeds. De-seeding the pumpkins is an integral part of the process. Not surprisingly, the seeds are jumbo sized, just like their parents. Seeds of these record-sized pumpkins go to an auction where they are generally sold for $300 a seed. Just last year one of the seeds sold for $1,600.
July 15, 2011; Hobart, Tasmania, Australia; final entry
Once again we awoke to a frost, this one so heavy that it almost looked as if it had snowed. We assumed that the frost would not be in the forest, and we were right. Our first scheduled stop was not too far away, along a trail leading to a view of St. Columba Falls. The falls are named for an Irish Catholic saint who copied the Psalms around 500 A.D., which started a war, and who was then exiled to Scotland. The falls were named by an Irish woman who discovered them and who had herself been exiled to Tasmania.
Echidna playing ostrich
On the way to the site we finally saw an echidna, a porcupine-like marsupial. We slammed on the brakes, only to have the only other car we saw all morning blow its horn at us. Nevertheless, we scrambled out of the car to get a better look at this strange little animal. Like an ostrich, it had buried its head in the leaf litter, presumably thinking that if it couldn’t see us then we couldn’t see him. It was great to see this odd Australian animal. The only animal we didn’t get to see that we really wanted to was a wombat.
St. Columba Falls
But duty called, and leaving our new friend behind, we headed up the road to the falls. Because St. Columba Falls is a popular tourist destination (just not first thing in the morning on a winter weekday), we were cautioned not to leave scars from our collecting along the trail. It’s just a short walk to the falls, which is one of the highest in Australia. Although I only found a single moss that I hadn’t seen previously on the trip, I found that many of the mosses I had seen sterile at other sites were fertile here. I collected these judiciously so as to have them as reference material in the herbarium.
The Greenmarket is open today until 3 p.m.! Be sure to stop by.
It’s a beautiful day to get out and sample the goods from our fantastic vendors. Grounds admission is free on Wednesdays (there is an additional charge for entrance to the Conservatory and certain gardens), but there’s so much to see on the grounds right now (Waterlilies! Daylilies! Roses!) that a quick trip to pick up beans and blackberriescould easily turn into an all-day affair.
Here’s a look at what’s fresh and delicious today at the Greenmarket:
Plums, peaches and blackberries are in season this week!
Gajeski Produce has beautiful bunches of sunflowers and statice, corn, zucchini, cucumbers, squash, beets, tomatoes, lettuce, broccoli, new potatoes, scallions, string beans, kale, blueberries, black cherry tomatoes, peppers, shallots, basil, cilantro, lettuce, broccoli, new potatoes, scallions, onions, dill, blackberries, blueberries and eggs.
Local honey can be purchased from The Little Bake Shop. Pies of all sorts-cherry, blueberry, apple, and raspberry in the Linzer tart and chocolate croissants, quiches, and scones
Bread Alone has sourdough, multigrain bread, foccacia breads; raisin nut, Ciabatta, and peasant rolls; as well as muffins, tarts, danishes, cookies, baguettes, scones, tarts, cookies, danishes, muffins are also available.
Red Jacket Orchard has plums, sour cherries, apples, gooseberries, jams, and juice.
You can learn more about Greenmarket, part of the Council on the Environment of New York City and one of the largest open-air farmers market programs in the country their booth. Taste what’s fresh at their weekly cooking demonstrations.
Thursday, July 14, 2011; Pyengana, Tasmania, Australia
Bill Buck searching for bryophytes
Winter reared its ugly head again today. Sunrise was at about 7:00 a.m., and as soon as it became light, it was obvious that a heavy frost had whitened the landscape, including our car. So, after thawing out the car, we headed to our first site, the Weldborough Pass Rainforest Walk.
Under the canopy, the frost hadn’t covered everything, and since our primary stop that day would be at a much higher (and thus much chillier) elevation, checking out the forest, which is dominated by large southern beech (Nothofagus cunninghamii) with an understory of large tree ferns (Dicksonia), seemed like a good idea. The multitude of tree ferns at this locality was a special treat. We found a large number of bryophytes and lichens (as well as epiphytic ferns) that prefer the spongy, moist root mantles that comprise the tree fern trunks. We also found quite a large number of mosses that we had not seen before. It took a while for our fingers to thaw from the morning chill but the collecting helped keep us active and warm. In fact the collecting was so good that we ended up staying in the Weldborough Pass Rainforest an hour longer than we had scheduled. We decided to quit at a very good time, though, because as we were packing our collections into the car trunk, two other cars of tourists drove up to use the trail. We cleared out in a hurry before they could see the divots and scars we had left from our collecting!
The rental car travels under a novel underpass in the Blue Tier Nature Preserve
Today was mainly a travel day. Before leaving Hobart we ran by Paddy’s office to spread our still-wet specimens on his floor to dry while we are in the field. We headed north out of Hobart toward St. Helens. This town reminds me of some of the small coastal towns in Florida where I grew up, with touristy stores and lots of retirees. We lunched here and then turned inland to our collecting site of the day, the Blue Tier Forest Reserve.
We were a bit dismayed when we arrived at the road into the reserve only to find a “Road Closed” sign at the entrance. However, the road wasn’t blocked so we decided to chance it, which ended up being not nearly as bad a decision as it could have been; it seemed as if a road crew had preceded us! Many of the trees that appeared to have fallen across the road had already been cleared, and the one tree we found that was still over the road had amazingly fallen so that the large branches held the trunk off the ground and formed a kind of tree overpass.
Bill Buck and the Goblin Forest Walk Sign
Once under the tree, the road got narrower and began showing signs of erosion from previous heavy rains, but it was passable with only a minimal bottoming out of our rental car, though we did seem to be dragging branches under the car almost constantly. When the landscape leveled out, at about 700 meters, we came to a car park for the reserve. The air was decidedly cooler and the area around the parking lot was open, presumably kept so by grazing wallabies, based on the large number of droppings. There were several trail options for leaving the parking lot, and I just couldn’t resist the Goblin Forest Walk.
The Waterlily & Lotuses Pool in the courtyard of the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory is a magical place. Summer breezes ripple the surface, playing with the glittering reflection of the Conservatory; koi stick their heads clear out of the water, as if begging for a scratch under the chin; and kaleidoscopic waterlilies and lotuses stir gently, like drowsy dancers at the end of an evening of waltzing. The colors and lingering aromas of these exotic flowers create a enchanted atmosphere, perfect for afternoon daydreaming.
The sandy soil, the boggy ponds: whenever I feel an inexplicable sense of geographic safety (say, in parts of Cape Cod, coastal North Carolina, or Florida), I understand soon enough that I’m looking at a replica of my childhood backyard–or at least the woods and marshes nearby.
