Greenhouse Envy.
Does every gardener wish they had a greenhouse? I may be one of the few who do not, but love to dream about green.
Welcome to the Art of Growing Food newsletter. I write about artful growing tips for cooks who love to garden. You are receiving this newsletter because you are a free or paid subscriber. Thank you! - Ellen Ecker Ogden
Hello Everyone.
The snowdrops (Galanthus) were blooming in my garden last week, a full month earlier than expected, now buried again under the snow. But that glimpse of spring led me to visit the Smith Botanical Gardens in Northampton, MA, an annual trek in search of green. When it comes to finding a place to step out of winter, the plant-filled greenhouse at @smithcollegebotanicgarden is it.
Nothing fancy, admission is free, yet the series of five connecting greenhouses is filled with specimen plants including orchids, camellias, citrus, and natural greenery. Upon entering, instead of a bolt of heat and humidity that forces a visitor to rip off their winter coat, these greenhouses stay naturally cool, (the way most plants prefer) and are carefully monitored with top vents that stay open on a sunny day.
A typical botanical garden will focus on wowing the public with a mass of orchids all blooming in synchronicity. Here you are treated to viewing plants potted up for their comfort, rather than solely for display. The staggered bloom is based on the natural cycle of the individual type of orchid, slightly unpredictable, this only adds charm. Each plant is given ample room to breathe, with vines that ramble, and root systems overflowing the pots, that in some cases rival the blooms.
This conservatory is largely maintained by botany students, and passages from Sylvia Plath's poetry are on display, inspired by the fragrance of the camellia, the brilliance of the Cymbidium, and the gentle moss that spreads as an understory beneath the plant benches. Sensual memories that hark back to when she was a Smith College botany student. It’s humbling to think that many of these green plants are the same ones growing when she was responsible for trimming leaves and dousing them with a long-spouted watering can.
Every gardener wishes they had a greenhouse, yet I may be one of the few who do not. I prefer to visit other people’s greenhouses. Like petting other people’s dogs, I know there is a lot of hard work to keep it managed and optimal. I’d rather admire other gardeners’ fancies than make the effort on my own.
This time of year, however, a greenhouse would give me that much-desired green, but the truth is, I like this time of dormancy. It allows me to step away from taking care of green things other than a few houseplants. This way, I will truly appreciate the green when it starts to appear in my garden and the landscape.
It’s a gardener’s spring ritual: waiting and watching for hints of green. Who knew that a color could hold so much promise and fill me with such a sense of hope. Like listening to music wafting through the air, shades of emerald, sage, and pistachio will soon layer through my garden and the surrounding landscape. Minty green buds will give way to fully formed petals and leaves, just as the celadon spears of perennial chicory ( i.e. dandelion) fill the lawn.
This will mark the time I will once again tame greens in garden rows, and they will taste like the wild because most originated as weeds: arugula, chicory endive, and mustard. Soon, I will look out to my kitchen garden to see a tapestry of pine, avocado, and jade all made up from the seeds I’ve sown. Each will be edible, and what does not get harvested is turned back into the soil for a green manure crop to grow more greens.
It’s a beautiful cycle from seed to soil, then back again into the earth. When the first green wave appears like a quilt across the garden and the landscape, I will be ready for so much more. For now, I’ll revel in the dream.
From my garden to yours,
Ellen O.
Ellen Ecker Ogden
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