Archive for the ‘the neighborhood’ Category

Garden Tour

Sunday, July 25th, 2010

Today was a perfect day for a garden club tour;  a bit of rain and clouds to discourage the casual observers but not enough wind to damage the white begonias, cool enough to walk energetically in a heavy skirt and sensible shoes, misty enough so that I didn’t regret forgetting my hat. This particular garden had not previously been open to the public. The cutting and kitchen gardens are visible through the wrought iron fence from the street, but it was wonderful to get up close and personal with the sunken Italianate formal garden, the mossy pergola that faces the cove, and some really lurid roses that were nevertheless enjoyable under the low, gray clouds. Oh, and the shingle style dog house with slate roof, dutch doors and window boxes was just the right touch of surreal.

My pen dropped out of my pocket somewhere along the 1/2 mile entrance road, and my batteries ran out before the kitchen garden, but here are what notes and images I managed to take away:

Artichokes – beautiful plants and evidently productive here. The head gardener went on at length about daylight and temperatures requirements for full maturity, but honestly I wouldn’t care if I didn’t get a whole lot of fruit – the plants were striking in themselves. Of course, he doesn’t have that luxury.

Cold frames extraordinaire: I went over to look at some cold frames – 15′ x 2′ high on the short end, rising to 4′ and faced with glass panels. When I looked in to the frames, I realized that they had been excavated to a depth of 10′. There were ladders built into the walls at either end for access. With that much berming they must be very cozy even in early spring, and if I thought I could dig a hole 12′ deep on my lot I’d try it out.

Smoke bush in bloom with Madonna lilies rising through the mist of blossoms – quite a striking effect.

Datura was everywhere, and lent an exotic air to the otherwise common assortment of border flowers: ligularia, phlox, mulliens, begonias and thalictrum.

THIS is the forest primeval.

Thursday, July 22nd, 2010
. . . The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.
This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers —
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o’er the ocean.
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pré.
Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman’s devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow – Evangeline

Big Rock redux

Monday, July 12th, 2010

Last month our neighbors gifted us with a Significant Rock. It came on a Big Boom Truck – possibly the biggest vehicle to ever climb up our gravel road and I’ll stop with the capital letters now. The rock  has a rather formal placement exactly perpendicular to the front of the house and lined up with one of the window bays. People have actually stopped their cars in the road and commented on it. Then they go on to mention the garden, and their garden back home, and then inquire after lobster, and really, it takes an awesome rock to stop tourists in their pursuit of local seafood. This weekend our neighbors called; “Did our rock want a life partner?”. Of course we said “Yes!”.

K’s boom truck showed up on Sunday afternoon in the pouring rain. I was on my third pair of shoes and already soaking wet, so a little more water wasn’t a problem.

Now reach into the truck. . .

And pull out a rock. . .

And confab on the placement. Because it’s not going anywhere after that webbing comes off.

A beautiful rock, nestled in blueberries. Note the worked edge – this might have been part of a foundation for a Bar Harbor “cottage” lost in the Great Fire. Now it resides with us, forever or until boom truck do us part.

“Decked Out” for the MDI Skate Park Association

Sunday, June 27th, 2010

My contribution to the August 12 auction of art work on skateboards as a fundraiser for a free skate park in Bar Harbor.

Dude. Totally.

Deck front

Deck back

New rock

Monday, June 21st, 2010

Our neighbors across the road are moving. They’ve been wonderful neighbors and we’ll miss them, but as it happens their new home is only 10 minutes away. I don’t get out much, but I think I can still manage to visit. And they’ve promised to come back to Trick or Treat.

Like many households, they are distributing some of their belongings before they move. Unlike lots of folks, they have rocks. Big rocks, all over the lower driveway and they are taking some with them to the new place, and they gave one to us. It is a thing of beauty – 6′ x 2′ by 2′, grey with a few lichen spots and partly cut. S. told me the Japanese term for part smooth/part natural surface, and I’ve forgotten it already. Fortunately, you don’t need to know the word to appreciate the effect.

The New Rock sits partially across the straight-line access to the house, in line with the south window bay. The driveway used to come right up to the house – or rather, the front yard was an empty stretch of fill from nearby Lamoine that one could drive over.  Somehow that open avenue has remained even as the space was populated with peach and pear trees, vegetable beds and a hoop house. This is a “before” photo of the front of the house.

This is the big truck that picked up the stone and dropped it (carefully) here. That’s a big truck.

Here’s the after photo with the stone in place. Rock solid, as they say.

Do you have $845,000.00?

Saturday, June 5th, 2010

And would you like to own a barber shop? Ray’s is for sale in the village. Built in 1887, the combination plumbing office and barber shop has been a fixture for decades. The building has four rental units plus the two shops, and at 3/4 of a million dollars is the least expensive commercial property available on the island – which just boggles the mind. Full of character it might be, but at $845,000.00 I think it’s probably a “tear-down” on Main St. We have plenty of salons on MDI, but only one honest-to-buzz-cut barber shop. I’m going to miss it when it’s gone.

Osmundastrum cinnamomeum

Friday, June 4th, 2010

Almost 2″ of rain has fallen here over the last 7 days and the Cinnamon Ferns are almost as tall as I am. I know you can buy these ferns potted, but I have no idea what sort of culture they would need to be transplanted. The one in the picture is growing on the shoulder of our gravel driveway and there are hundreds of them in the swamp beyond. I never thought I’d consider myself lucky to live next to a swamp, but it has proved to be a beautiful and complex habitat in all seasons.

Pluck not the wayside flower;

Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

It is the traveler’s dower.
~William Allingham

Last May I was wandering down our gravel road and found a ladyslipper growing in the dust and slash on the shoulder. It was beautiful and fragile and I looked for it as I went to and from work, wondering if someone might have driven over it or innocently picked it to bring home to  mother.  The blossom lasted through June and then shriveled naturally in the heat of July and the leaves blended with the weeds.

I checked today, and this year there are two!

I wonder what Spring 2011 will bring? Will they be able to form a proper colony in such an inhospitable place?

From the Vermont Ladyslipper website:

Cypripediums, like all orchids, begin their life cycle when their seed (pro-embryo) is invaded by a microscopic fungus (endophyte). Since orchid seed has no endosperm (stored starch reserves that kick start most other plant species), the fungus in essence forms a surrogate root system for the seed.

If the soil nutrient levels and pH are correct, the fungus becomes a symbiont and provides small amounts of carbohydrates to the growing seed(protocorm). This is a very delicate process whereby the fungus infiltrates the growing orchid seed to a certain stage and then the orchid seed defensively responds by producing a group of chemicals that actually dissolves the fungal filaments back.

After having its filaments dissolved, the fungus will then reattempt to invade the protocorm and supply more carbohydrates and the protocorm will grow again ever so slightly. This process is repeated until the protocorm has grown large enough to produce a small dormant eye bud and root system (seedling). Once this occurs, the following spring the cypripedium will produce it’s first green leaf and begin to use photosynthesis as its primary energy source. Once the seedling relies on photosynthesis, the cypripedium will reject the micro-fungus almost completely. This heterotrophic phase can take anywhere from 3 to 7 years to occur in nature. It can take an additional 5 to 10 years to reach flowering size which means the Cypripedium can take anywhere between 10 to 17 years to bloom, in the wild, from initial seed dispersion!

This above heterotrophic growth sequence only occurs when all the habitat and soil conditions are right. This is the primary reason for the natural rarity of cypripediums and not that the fungal symbiont they use is rare. Indeed, under many soil conditions, the fungus that the orchid requires can become a pathogen and destroy the orchid seed. There are several micro-fungi that have been isolated in cypripedium roots and the truth is that there are probably many more that could perform the symbiotic function given the right soil conditions.

Screen door season

Monday, May 3rd, 2010

Today we put up the screen door. (That’s the royal we.) The screen door goes on at exactly the cusp between “too cold to leave the door open” and “full on bug assault”. Living at the edge of a swamp in coastal Maine, that change can happen over the course of a single day. Now the house is open to the breeze (and closed to the mosquitoes) until that afternoon in November comes around that looks like snow.

And with the screen door comes the odd, alien bloom of the Gunnera, at least a week before the huge leaves poke through.

While the south slope of the garden is covered in bee fodder: dandelion, forget-me-not, plum and peach blossoms.

Spring comes to Mountain View

Sunday, May 2nd, 2010

Thou art not dead! Thou art the whole
Of life that quickens in the sod.
~Charles Hanson Towne