What makes a garden great?

Last Sunday, Sarah and Helen visited Barry Parker's Open Garden Toronto and were once again blown away by this lovely Parkdale garden gem.

Helen: The first thing that impresses me about Barry's garden is its structure. Structure is one of the things that moves a garden from good to great. And Barry proves that you don't need to spend $100,000 on hardscaping to have an exceptional garden.

His garden spaces are defined by a circle of grass, curved box hedging and two obelisks of clipped beech. Pea gravel as paving. A couple of stone pillars at the entry made of recycled materials. Anyone could afford to do that. What did he say about the beeches?

Sarah: That he'd hacked at them last year because the walkway between was almost covered. Reminds me of something I learned in Master Gardeners. In Toronto in the 30s, it was fashionable for landscapers to plant blue spruce trees on either side of front walks, and of course the trees grew to enormous size and met in the middle. Holes had to be cut to walk through, ruining the shape of the tree. You can see examples all over the High Park area. But Barry's beech trees look great pruned as obelisks.

Helen: Of course, there are the plants. You can't talk about Barry's garden without his collection, which is clearly a passion. Some degree of passion is essential for a great garden, I think.

It's fun walking around the garden with Barry because he's so enthusiastic, even about the tiniest little seedling – which, unlike my garden, wouldn't be a weed. I bought one of his Ranunculus 'Brazen Hussy'. Great name. [In other close-ups in this post, Fritillaria hermonis amana and the pale pink Sanguinaria canadensis 'Armstrong's Pink'.]

In a collector's garden like this, structure creates unity and cohesion. I've been a collector, in a far less exotic way. But my garden has that one-of bittiness that comes of focussing on plants rather than design. Barry's strong lines using the box and beech tie it all together.

Then there are his surprising and inventive details. Inexpensive, too. Like the pedestal he made from stacked concrete pavers. Or a simple grouping of terra cotta pots. In almost every corner there's something that makes you say, "Oh, wow. What a great idea. I could do that."

Sarah: I could steal that, you mean. Barry's eye for finding objects that he knows would look good in the garden is so inspiring.

His collection of spheres, placed just so, and oversized marbles tucked away in a corner. When you come across these things, they are tiny discoveries.

His creativity is so apparent when he uses objects in ways they weren't designed for. That kind of thinking separates the good from the great. Putting metal obelisks along the top of his fence, for instance, rather than sticking them in the ground. Then repeating them along the length of the fence to say, "I did that on purpose."

Helen: Repetition. One of the elements of good design.

And the secret woodland garden in the back. You mentioned how you like the layering.

Sarah: Yes, the way his perennials and shrubs are interplanted with medium shrubs and higher small trees really adds that three dimensional feel – like you're in a little magical forest.

Helen: Uh huh. A great gardener considers the dimension "Up," making use of all those levels and planes beyond the flat.

Sarah: I also love how he kept the old pale blue door as the entrance gate to the secret back garden. Others would have ripped door out and put it in the trash. But seeing that old blue door there reminds me of summers past and people banging through it. It has a place of honour at the end of the garden, inviting you to go through and explore.

Helen: I'm glad we went, and I'm actually glad it was raining so we had it more to ourselves. Barry's such a lovely guy who takes an obvious delight in gardening and in people who like gardening, too.

He said he didn't like it when people told him that looking at his garden made them feel depressed… that's not the effect he wanted it to have at all. I feel uplifted when I come here. There are so many things about this garden that any of us could achieve.

[Open Gardens Toronto continues throughout the summer. We bought passports so we won't miss anything.]

So many choices, May 2nd

When our youngest daughter was in 6th grade, she had to write a two-page short story. At page five, she was still writing, so I asked her why. "I can't help it," she exclaimed. "Things just keep happening!!"

Things just keep happening on the garden calendar, too. Sunday, May 2nd is no exception, and one or more of these events is sure to appeal to you.

First up is the Ontario Rock Garden and Hardy Plant Society annual plant sale, from 12 noon to 4 pm at the Toronto Botanical Garden. This horticultural society is about more than rock gardens. Hardy plants, including many rare varieties, are the emphasis here. If you're hunting for unusual but adaptable specimens that are often compact, which is great for smaller gardens, come early for best selection.

Rare plants not your cup of tea? But a tea party is? Then this sounds like a fun early Mother's Day event, and it benefits a good cause. Windfall, a charity that gets brand new clothing and other life basics to Toronto's neediest people each year, is hosting Tea Talk, The Garden Party at the Old Mill, from 1 to 4 pm. Themed How Green Is Your Garden? it features speaker Carson Arthur of Green Force and Room to Grow talking about eco-innovations for the garden, plus there's a silent auction and the promise of a "brimming gift bag." Yay, goodies. Tickets are $50, purchased through the link above.

The third event is all about the compost. Now, I am the Compost Queen, but I didn't know that next week is Compost Awareness Week. In fact, it's the 15th Anniversary. To kick it off, the Composting Council of Canada is holding a Compost Garden Party at Mustard Seed Community Garden on Queen Street East, starting at 2 pm. This party features local-guys-make-good-music band Jane's Party (hear their sound here). Families can enjoy veggie garden workshops to get the kids involved, and there's even a Grow Your Own Soup tasting.

Circle your calendars. It's likely we'll see you at one or more of these events on Sunday.

A beautiful day in the community garden

Yesterday was opening day at East York Community Garden. When this picture was taken, the crowds had gone home for a well-deserved rest after many hours of digging, de-sodding, tidying and a lot of to-ing and fro-ing.

In my Compost Queen role, I worked with volunteer Yves to construct a mountain of overturned sod – stacked roots upward – removed from the new plots at the far side of the garden. We'll damp it down, cover it with tarp to heat it up and, eventually, return it to the gardens as compost. My back tells me that it was a lot of sod. A lot.

Education will be a big part of the garden this year, especially on composting, to make it easier for our gardeners – many of them new to gardening – to know the hows and whys. A community garden of this scale can produce a lot of good compost, which we aim to use.

Meanwhile, and even though it was his birthday, Mr. TG was busy building the cedar frames above for our plots. And, Mr. TG being Mr. TG, you'd better believe they were plumb, level and square.

We'll be marking these off at one-foot intervals to guide our own modified square-foot gardening strategy for 2010 – an intensive gardening technique in which you plant in one-foot squares rather than rows. The plots are 4'x8', making it easy to reach in from either side for planting, weeding and harvesting, without having to compress the earth by walking on the garden.

(Rubs hands together.) I can hardly wait.

Open Gardens Toronto 2010 starts this weekend

Toronto's Open Gardens 2010 program begins this Sunday afternoon in Parkdale with a chance to see the wonderful garden of gifted plantsman and all-round exemplary gardener Barry Parker.

Don't be put off by a little rain. Sarah and I visited Barry's garden last October in the rain, which gave the plants an extra level of sparkle and kept away the crowds. For a preview of what you'll see there in springtime, take a peek at this post from Deborah at Kilbourne Grove.

Right now is the best possible time to buy an all-season passport for Open Gardens. $25 gets you into any of the 26 gardens showing in 2010; otherwise, it's $4 cash at the door. You can buy a passport (cash or cheque only) at any of the gardens. The funds raised support the Canadian Women's Foundation; details on the site.

To see which gardens might be open near you, have a look at the Open Gardens Toronto schedule.

[UPDATE: A reminder that April 24 & 25 is also the first weekend for Marion Jarvie's Open Gardens. Marion is another exceptional gardener. You can read more, including additional open dates here.]

Earthy Earth Day!

A geophyte seems like the perfect kind of flower to post in celebration of Earth Day's 40th Birthday.

The etymology of the word geophyte is Greek: from geo- (meaning earth or ground) plus -phyte (plant or growth). It relates to the plant's underground storage organ. Yes, geophyte is a fancy word for bulb, corm, rhizome or tuber.

This particular geophyte emerges from a bulb, Tulipa tarda, a sunny little species tulip currently coming to its finale in my garden, due to Toronto's early spring 2010.

Happy Birthday, Earth Day. Let's all do what we can to make it earth day, every day.

Selecting perennials for easy care

Who doesn't want a garden that's low maintenance? Of course, the mantra is: Low maintenance does not mean no maintenance. Even if you're laying down concrete grass and planting plastic flowers, some maintenance will be required.

However, selecting well will help you keep plant maintenance to a minimum. If you don't want to spend your life watering, feeding, propping up, chopping down or replanting, here are some things to think about:

• Know thyself. Know how much you have to put into your garden. Short on time? Don't select plants that need special attention, such as dahlias that must be lifted in fall and stored over winter... unless you want to treat them like annuals. Or irises that require regular division. And avoid fast-growing trees such as the weeping mulberry which must be pruned yearly to look their best.

• Select plants that will thrive in your zone. The Greater Toronto Area spans from Canadian Zone 6A (and, in some sheltered areas, 6B) down by the lake to Zone 5 in the 905 area. (Those numbers look a full zone higher than in the U.S. zone system, which puts us between Zones 5 and 4. We explained why last year in this post.) If it's a borderline-tender plant in your zone, you'll spend a lot of time babying it through the cold.

• Select plants that like your garden's growing conditions. Know your garden: is it sun or shade, moist or dry, is it sand, clay, loam or in between? Moisture lovers will need watering, more so if your garden is dry. Plants that are heavy feeders will need feeding if your garden's on sand. Pick plants that thrive on what you have to give.

• Select the right-size plant for your space. If your garden is small, choose small or dwarf varieties of larger plants such as shrubs and trees. No sense having a tree that has to be pruned, lopped or (shudder) topped to stay within bounds. Actually measure your garden, and some of the larger objects in it, to get a clear sense of how much room you have. If you love a certain shrub, ask if there's a compact version of it. If it exists, hold off till you find it.

• Know how your plant reproduces. Is it a vigorous underground spreader such as goutweed or lily of the valley? Is it a rampant self-seeder such as Norway maple. Avoid, unless you like deadheading or weeding. Or at least, know how much you're willing to tolerate. For grasses or daylilies, look for key-words like "clump forming" which tells you they're well behaved.

• Know how long your plant will live. Often when people choose perennials over annuals it's because they assume that perennials live forever. Not so. The difference is all about seeds. Annuals have a lifecycle of one year. That is, they germinate, produce seed and then die within a single year. Biennials take two years to do this, germinating the first year and producing seed the next.

Perennials take longer to mature and produce flowers and seed, but compensate by flowering for more seasons. Not forever, though. As they've already lived a season or two at the nursery, some may last only a few years in your garden. That gaillardia you selected because knocks itself out blooming may do just that, and soon need replacing. That's a lot of work, especially if you've planted such plants in mass.

These are a few thoughts to get you started. For the last two points particularly, I really must acknowledge Michelle Reid and her great Ryerson course the Art and Management of Planting Design. You'll hear more about that in posts to come.

My AWOL Cat Came Back!

Fisher and my son Julian, Pre-Great-Escape

Well he didn't actually come back: was captured more like it.

Fisher, my indoor cat, had been gone most of the week. He'd never been outside, but somehow got out of the house five nights ago. I've no idea how; didn't even know he was gone till next morning.
First step was calling and calling, and looking in every back yard and shed and possible hiding place. After that, of course, the Lost Cat Poster. I went all over the neighbourhood posting. Postering is harder than it seems, especially with a roll of packing tape that keeps sticking back on itself, and a pile of posters that keep threatening to blow away on you. It's tricky balancing the scissors, poster and tape mechanics. Then more calling. No luck.

The second night, my neighbour saw Fisher on the sidewalk. Two dogs started barking just then, and scared Fisher under the porch. That was sort of good news. We knew where he was.

The porch space spans underneath the front of two houses and the only way in is through a small 2 foot by 6" gap under the stairs. I became very familiar with this little gap under the stairs over the next 4 days, twisting myself into a pretzel, attempting to crane myself into spying postion, while balancing a flashlight and a plate of food. My knees complained, while I cajoled. I was having no luck and I begain to wonder if he was still even under the porch. There was no way of actually seeing inside.

Days and nights are running into each other now, but it went basically this way: in the day I would call in through the hole, offer food, and wait for awhile, without success. My friends on Twitter gave helpful advice and encouragement. One, Mr. B. Goodnick even suggested making the sound of ball of wool. Believe me, I tried!

At nights, same thing, but we also got out the flashlight. My son trained it through the small latticework at one end of the porch. Through the teeny opening he spotted two shiny eyes. Yay! Something was under there, at the far end in the corner: maybe Fisher. Another night we coaxed him far enough so I could touch his fur--then I was sure it was him. Next instant he zoomed away. The next day, he actually stepped out of the gap for a second, towards some food, and I grabbed him but he stiffened, hissed, scratched me and jumped back inside the gap again. Curses!

I woke up at 3:30 one morning and thought, well it's quiet, he may be brave enough to come out now. I bundled myself up and sat out there for an hour, going through all my strategies, calling for awhile, then being quiet, waiting, calling again, and nothing worked. I got cold while I started to hear the first peeps of the dawn chorus, and the city slowly waking up.

Following morning I tried offering food on a long spatula/salad fork contraption I taped together. Nothing was working. I left the contraption there, balanced with a rock, with a tiny bit of food on the end. I was beginning to think I was simply going to be the owner of a Cat who Lived Under a Porch Forever. After four days of worry and cajoling, I started to feel quite put out that my cat didn't trust me enough to come to my voice, even when I was holding food. I was turning into the Glenn Close of pet owners thinking, "I'm not going to Be Ignored...!"

My family and I started scheming en masse. After a busy week when we all had places to be during the day, we got together to form a CAT SWAT team. My brother in law unscrewed the lattice at one end of the porch, opening it up completely. My sister Helen stood by the gap with a blanket. I stood at the open end with another blanket, and a plate of food (not needed - he was too scared to think of food by this time) and my brave nephew crawled on his belly into the dirty, rocky porch space. Fisher was in the far opposite end in the corner. Brother in law got the idea to scare him out using the hose. My neice also banged on the opposite end of the porch to scare him down to our end. The banging and the water spray actually got him to budge from his spot. Fisher started moving down toward the open end, but then suddenly he darted out through the middle gap at supersonic speed and pell-mell down the sidewalk. He ran like a mad thing.

Then, like Keyer Soze, he just disappeared.

An out of the fire into the frying pan situation. I started thinking that it wouldn't have really been so bad being the owner of a Cat who Lived Forever under the Porch as I went up and down the street, calling into people's driveways and gardens. I was thinking the worst, that I'd really never get him back now. At least I already had the Lost Cat posters up.

Then suddenly, in someone's back garden, he darted out and I ran towards him. He dashed away from me and---yes, ran right underneath someone's deck, wedging himself right in the farthest corner. I yelled down the street to the rest of the family to come, and they came running. Thank god Fisher picked that particular neighbour's garden to run to, because the deck was just high enough for me to crawl underneath, with a little difficulty, and balancing myself over bits of scrap wood, nails, and raccoon poo, I was able to get right to him. To my immense relief, he let me grab hold of him and I held onto him very tightly, while the neighbour, who had come outside to see what the commotion was, ran inside to get a cat carrier. Thank goodness he had one. Also thank goodness that there was a sizeable gap between the deck and the edge of the house, big enough for me to pass my wet and dirty cat up through to my neighbours' hands. He stuffed him into the cat carrier, and made the happy end to my AWOL cat story.

Upon getting home Fisher ran immediately to my son's bunk bed and started rubbing his cheeks all over the wood, purring like a banshee. I think I was purring too.

Wordless Weedsday: Acer platanoides

Yes, weedsday; you read that right. Norway maples, Acer platanoides, Toronto's most dominant (in so many senses) street tree. You can't garden in Toronto, especially its east end, without grappling with these non-native giants; trees that are as voracious as they are fecund.

But, gee, they have pretty flowers. They're all chartreuse and fluffy-y.  From certain angles, they catch the light and seem illuminated.

A soft, green, billowing cloud of bright maple flowers. Each one of them just itching to ripen into a very viable fruit and plant itself in a garden, or a fence, or a hedge, or a ravine, or, what the heck, all four and more, near you.

I've written about my love/hate for Norway maples before; here in 2007 and again here in 2009. I'll probably be writing about them in 2011 and beyond. They are my beautiful bane.

Fortunately, the seedlings are also very easy to pull up, if you catch them now when they've just germinated. Don't let them go too long, though. Those innocent-looking roots get tenacious pretty quickly.

Reeves nursery on Danforth [Updated after closure of nursery]

[UPDATE, June 25, 2011 and Nov. 29, 2011: Sadly Reeves has gone, both from the Danforth and from the original Reeves Woodbridge home, due to financial difficulties. It's too bad, because the east end could use another convenient garden centre that stocks unusual trees and shrubs. We would have wished them better parking, and we'll miss their excellent range of tree stock. Good luck to all the people of Reeves, wherever you ended up. We wish you better success elsewhere.] For alternatives, check our post on Toronto Independent Garden Centres

Note: Text below is from April 2010:
Toronto's east end now has the choice of another plant nursery. The new outlet of Reeves Garden Centre of Woodbridge opened yesterday, April 15th, beside the Madina Mosque on Danforth Avenue at Donlands. Staff were still stocking the shelves when I visited, but assured me that the place will be packed wall to wall with goods by this weekend. (Reeves hasn't updated their main website yet, but the link gives an idea of what they offer.)

On my visit, the plant selection was mostly pansies, cool season vegetables and herbs, plus some trees. But the plants are well grown and the prices look competitive.

I took home a healthy, nice sized pot of 'Blue Spire' rosemary for the opening special price of $4.99, down from $9.99. Standard-form lavender was reduced to $8.49 from over $16. I could see them as the centrepiece for a container, but had to bite my wallet.

A number of  'Bloodgood' Japanese maples were priced at $79.99 – at a size that would give an instant look of maturity to any garden. They told me that delivery for something large would be about $25, roughly the cost of a cab ride. If you know someone with a pick-up truck, even better.

Posted hours right now are seven days a week: weekdays 9 am to 7 pm; weekends 9 am to 6 pm.

Fruit trees wearing their bridal gowns

This might be a crabapple, though I'm not a crabapple expert. And the Malus or apple family, along with its fruit tree cousins such as the Pyrus or pear [ed: and I should add the Prunus family, which includes plums, peaches (which this might be), apricots, cherries, and almonds], are all five-petalled members of the large Rosaceae or rose family, making identification by flower alone quite tricky. At least, for me.

Whatever they are, they sure are pretty. Keep your eyes open for the wedding parade of fruit trees that soon will be marching through the city. It's all too brief.

A bit of trivia: Why do they call these blossoms, not just flowers? A blossom describes a conspicuous flower that produces an edible fruit. Now you know.

Why isn't your forsythia blooming?

Your forsythia shrub now is probably a fountain of gold. Or maybe it isn't. Blooming season is when a less-than-forthcoming forsythia makes itself very plain. Wonder why?

Forsythias always make this year's flower buds last year. And most of the time when they don't bloom it's for two reasons related to pruning. Yours might not be blooming because:

A) if it has a bald spot, like the one above, you pruned your forsythia too late in the season, after the flower buds had formed. By removing the new season's branches in let's say summer or fall, you also removed the flowers for the following spring. The time to prune your forsythia is either during flowering (to enjoy those golden boughs indoors) or immediately after flowering.

Cut the branches back much lower than the height you want the shrub to be. The new growth will proceed from the top couple of buds, in a Y pattern, and if you cut the branch too high, then the two new stems shoot outward rather than upward. That's how older specimens end up with that higgledy piggledy look.

B) or, if it's a raggedy old shrub like the one to the right here, your forsythia might be badly in need of pruning to rejuvenate it. If the base of the shrub is congested with stems, cut one-third of the oldest, thickest branches to the ground, and do this for each of the next two years. This will open up the shrub to more new, vigorous flowering branches. If possible, allow the forsythia to have an open, vase shape. It really is the most attractive form.

However, the older varieties of forsythia tend to be large, huge in some cases, and people tend to lop them back so they don't feel they're being invaded by triffids. If your shrub is too large, find it a suitable home elsewhere, where it has room to roost. In its place, select one of the newer compact cultivars such as Forsythia 'Happy Centennial' which remains about 3 feet (1 metre) tall, and spreads a little wider.

Forsythias bloom best in full sun, though will take part shade. However, if yours is deeply shaded, it will not be as flamboyant as it would be in a sunnier position.

A last reason for non-blooming is when they've gone through a particularly harsh winter, which damages the flower buds. That didn't happen in Toronto's winter of 2009/10, but when it does you can tell by the fact that only the lower branches (the ones covered with snow) are blooming.

So go for the gold, and treat your forsythia the way he likes to be treated.

Kids: Change the world. Dig a garden.

Parents of high school students likely know that to graduate in Ontario kids need to complete 40 hours of volunteer time. Some do more. If yours are still looking for ways to contribute their time, read on.

From April 18 to May 7, 2010, Change the World: Ontario Youth Volunteer Challenge hopes to get 10,000 students across the province to volunteer at least three hours during the three-week campaign. Local opportunities around the city are posted on the Volunteer Toronto website, including ideas for kids who are keen for green – such as chances to help kick-start community gardens for the season.

Working in a garden sounds to me (and I double-checked with the resident teen, who concurs*) like a great way to volunteer. So spread the word, and invite the youths you know and love to dig right in.

(*The resident teen has already completed more than 80 hours as a volunteer.)

How to tame a rambunctious Rosa

My Rosa 'New Dawn' is not only beautiful, she's a tough customer. I've written about her before. Not many climbing roses put on a show with about a half day of sun. She does.

But every couple of years at this time, when the buds show signs of life, she does need to be wrassled into order.

As I noted last year, 2009's late-summer growing conditions were ideal for an abundance of new canes. Although I bent some to my will in early fall, many more shot off like fireworks in all directions and were waving at me this spring. The weather over Easter (this weekend, too) was a gift to gardeners, perfect for getting the arbour in shape.

Donning my well-worn rose gloves, I got started. Rose gloves are heavier cloth (or leather) long-sleeved gauntlets, and while they aren't totally impervious to rose thorn pricks, they do protect your forearms from scratches. Well worth the investment.

Every rose wrangler needs sharp tools. My trusty (and rusty) old Felco #2 pruners are used for most cuts and, for thicker branches, I use telescoping loppers. Telescoping handles give you leverage when you need extra cutting power. Sharp tools mean clean cuts and minimal stem damage. We give you tips on sharpening pruners here.

Before you tie in new rose canes, you need to make room by removing old canes. Pruning an established rose on an arbour can be like untangling a necklace. Your eye needs to follow each cane from its base to the tangle of small flowering branches.

Begin inside the arbour. Remove any canes that are growing inward and obstructing traffic. Flowering stems growing into the arbour will also be shaded and, therefore, not as productive.

Shorten canes to a bud that grows in the direction you want the cane to continue. Rosarian purists recommend disinfecting pruner blades with a weak bleach solution between cuts. I have never done this to my 20-year-old 'New Dawn' and she continues to flourish. Touch rosewood.

If the cane you want to remove is tangled with others, remove it in sections. Avoid dragging thorns across other canes, which will damage the bark.

Cut without leaving a stump, not even a small one. Without leaves at the end, stump tissue dies and leaves the stem open to disease. Cut cleanly and closely, near the collar (or raised area) at the stem base. See the two before and after pictures at right.

Once inward-growing canes are under control, look at the health of the bark of older stems. Remove stems or tips that look winter-burned (they'll look dry and brown) down to a bud with living tissue, or right to the base. If in doubt, scrape a little bark off on the suspect section with your fingernail. If you don't see green, it's dead.

Weak or thin stems can also go – by this, I don't mean the multi-branched flowering stems near the ends, but any puny longer canes. Usually, you'll find that the stems you've removed are older. Try not to remove more than one-third of the older stems in any one year.

One of the easiest ways to prune a rose is to prevent an unwanted branch from developing by bud pruning. This simply involves rubbing or gently scraping off any buds that are growing in the wrong direction – such as towards the interior of the arbour.

At right, you can see before and after shots of the bud pruning technique, though I can see now that I could have done it a little more neatly. You can see that I've left a small tag of the bud, which should have been removed. Rose pruning also good for roses you're training on a wall or obeslik. (You can do this for rugosas and other shrub roses too, but watch out for small thorns.)

Finally, you have space to tie in your new rose canes. To produce the greatest number of flowering stems, tie them as horizontally as possible. On the sides of the arbour, if the canes are still supple in the fall, you can try to train them in an S-shape. Often they're too woody to do this come spring. If you're wall-training your rose, fan the canes out widely. Buds on these horizontal canes will want to grow upward, each with flowering stems at the end. At the top of the arbour, loop canes across in a broad arc. Don't stress, as there always seems to be "one that got away."

Have fun, and enjoy your roses. Mistakes are not too serious in most cases. As my three-year-old daughter once reminded me after her brother had cut off all and I mean all her hair playing barber: Don't cry, Mummy. I'll grow.