The 10th Summer Solstice at 26 Pine Street

In a few weeks, the character of our garden will abruptly change as sweeps of rudbeckia, monarda, betony, and daisies bloom with startling synchronicity. For the moment, though, there are other other stars, no less eye-catching, to be enjoyed. On the sultry morning of the summer solstice, I took these photos to document the garden on the longest day of the year.

Double-click for a slideshow

I start with what everyone who comes into the garden during the month of June asks about: Thermopsis villosa, better known as Carolina lupine.  As the name suggests, it is native to the southern Appalachians. Betty acquired two pots of it from the Native Plant Trust's plant shop at Garden in the Wood in Framingham, MA. That was four years ago. Based on the plants we saw in those containers, we expected the full bloom to reach four feet or so. Instead, as the photo shows, it tops out at eight feet; and its footprint has increased to about ten square feet with no intervention from us. Clearly, this southern visitor is at home in New England.  This photo shows it with two yellow companions: Achillea (yarrow) 'Moonshine' and some concurrently flowering sedum. The white blooms to the left of Carolina lupine are Hydrangea quercifolia, better known as oakleaf hydrangea.

In the rear garden, the spotlight belongs to our two Viburnum 'Winterthur', also acquired from Garden in the Wood. Amazingly, these two shrubs are not quite at their peak: in another ten days, their flowers will be almost completely cover the shrubs in white. We had absolutely no idea they would flower in such profusion - especially given they are in, at best, a part-sun environment. Amazingly, the purple-blooming sheep laurel (Kalmia angustifolia), just visible below the base of the triangle in front of the viburnum, was planted at the same time as the now-hulking shrubs behind it.

Out in front of the garden, passers-by always stop to ask about our now-magnificent redbud and the multiple ninebarks adjacent to it. Our Cercis canadensis 'Burgundy Hearts' took about four months to find and was the next-to-the-last specimen tree to go into the ground. Betty had a specific location in mind and, therefore, a specific form factor. The tree has been shaped to fit its triangular site and kept to about an eight-foot height. Its reddish-brown, heart-shaped leaves will not change to green until nighttime temperatures fail to fall below seventy degrees (usually in August). We have multiple specimens of Physocarpus opulifolius (ninebark) in the front garden. This one is 'Diabolo', and its purplish-pink flowers are only now starting to fade. The small shrub with white bottle-brush flowers is Itea 'Henry Garnet'. Because it is growing in the shade of a large maple tree, it has remained small.

Finally, looking from the driveway up the front sidewalk, an array of trees, shrubs, and perennials are lush and green. To the right are multiple Pinus 'Nana', which requires an annual removal of its candles to remain even remotely in it place. An array of geraniums - too many cultivars to call out - are in prolific bloom. To the left, the shrub in front is Lindera. Behind it are our Cornus florida (American dogwood), now well past its flowering, Cladrastis kentuckyea (yellowwood), which blooms every other year, and Betula nigra (black birch) which are all jockeying for space, and all looking wonderful.

Digging out the builders' crud in 2015

It is difficult to believe that in June 2015, this was a barren spot of land: nothing grew on it. We had completed construction of our 'dream retirement home' on the site. Left behind was a half acre of what could most politely be described as 'builders' crud'... lifeless dirt and a multitude of rocks compressed into a an airless mass. A landscaping company dug out the top 18 inches of the mess (945 cubic yards), and brought in a like amount of screened loam. We topped that with 80 cubic yards of mulch and began planting (primarily) native trees, shrubs, perennials, and ground covers. It is still a work in progress.

'Gardening Is Murder' Comes to Saugus... and YouTube

Fourteen years ago, my first mystery (Murder Imperfect) was published and I had a plan for publicizing it. A library’s meeting room was booked, press releases went out, refreshments were purchased. The appointed day came.

The attendance: me, my wife, and an assistant librarian.

I have spoken to audiences in highly unusual
settings. One garden club met in a party room.

Undeterred, I refined my press materials and changed the timing and location… all to no avail. My conclusion: no one wanted to come hear an unknown author. Maybe, I thought, they might want to read a blog. I had already started one called ‘The Principal Undergardener’, in which I crafted taut, 900-word essays intended as a writer’s equivalent of a musician’s etudes and an athlete’s stretching: warm-ups and limbering exercises. Readership, though, was sparse.

Then, two years later, I received an invitation from a suburban Boston garden club. The club had chosen my third book (The Garden Club Gang) as their summer read, and now they wanted me to speak about it and answer questions at their September pot-luck dinner-with-spouses meeting. But, two weeks before the meeting, the club president called. “We’re a garden club,” she said, “not just a social group. You’re welcome to talk about the book, but could you also include some gardening information?”

Betty already had a reputation as a superb horticultural speaker. I asked if I could ‘borrow’ one of her programs. I was met with an icy stare.

Those essays might be useful...

So, I began re-reading my Principal Undergardener essays. Their problem, I immediately saw, was that they were horticultural only in the most tangential sense. What I was writing were observations on gardening; I had no original advice to offer. But, maybe I could cobble together a few of those essays…

On the appointed evening, I gave the primordial version of the program that would become ‘Gardening Is Murder’.  When it was over, the club president offered her concise appraisal and criticism: “We couldn’t hear you because we were laughing so hard.” 

In the intervening years, more than 600 groups ranging from small clubs to state and regional meetings with hundreds of attendees have had pretty much the same reaction. Gardening and humor can go together quite well.

Signing books, with Betty

On May 22, I presented ‘Gardening Is Murder’ for the Saugus (MA) Garden Club’s annual fund raiser. They had booked the auditorium at Town Hall with a plan to use me to lure in a crowd beyond the club’s membership. Following my talk, they would raffle and auction off floral designs and other horticulture.

While I was not aware of it, my talk also was videoed by the town’s cable system. Last week, it went up on YouTube. The production values are quite good.

If you’ve never seen ‘Gardening Is Murder’, please take a look at the video, which can be found at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1a7YDxugoo4. I begin speaking just before the two-minute mark.

May Turns to June, and Purple Reigns

The garden at 26 Pine Street, June 1, 2024
double-click on any image for a slide show.

When Betty began planning our new garden in 2015, she focused principally on trees and shrubs. It was a logical decision because those elements provide the 'structure' that anchors the property. It isn't that perennials, groundcovers, and bulbs weren't important; it's more the reality that, until Cladrastis kentuckyea (yellowwood), the right Chionanthus virginicus (fringetree) and the rest of the their horticultural brethren were on site and had been planted, everything else was going to be consigned to the sidelines. There was also the matter that Betty wanted to be able to imagine the garden as it would be viewed from inside our new home.

The same garden nine years ago.

Amazingly, by July (three months after we moved in), and as the photo at right attests, ten specimen trees and roughly 40 shrubs were in the ground (and a 500-count bottle of Ibuprofen had been consumed).  Betty then turned her thoughts to groundcovers and perennials. With the benefit of nine years of hindsight, what she accomplished is nothing short of miraculous. The garden is now approaching maturity, with weekly revelations of what a combination of long-term thinking, meticulous planning and luck can provide.

The view from the library

I start with the sight that greeted us for two weeks in mid- and late May as we gazed out of our library windows and front door. My memory is that we looked at more than half a dozen dogwoods. Betty checked for crossing branches, general vigor, and any indication of disease or abuse. She was also looking for a pink-flowering Cornus florida. Why pink? All I know is, she was adamant. But, here it is. It was a stunning sight, made all the more alluring because its color was echoed by multiple specimens of Dicentra (bleeding heart).

The view from the back porch

The view out of the back of the house is no less important. Because we chose to place our new home some 30 feet farther back that its predecessor (both for added privacy and to have a larger front garden), we have just 50 feet or so of 'cultivatable' land before we run afoul of our town's Conservation Commission restrictions. Betty wanted to preserve the view into the mixed pine and oak forest behind our home, while creating visually interesting vignettes nearby that change with the season.  Chamaecyparis 'Snow' is a remarkable shrub that shifts its color accents across the year while providing a predator-proof habitat for birds. Viburnum 'Winterthur' is a month away from flowering, but already is showing great texture and color. The purple-blooming perennial is Thalictrum aquilegifolium, better known as meadow rue.

In the front garden, Allium (not a native) offers purple umbels on tall stalks. The blue/purple blooming perennial in front is a native salvia, procured like many of our perennials from the Grow Native Massachusetts plant sale. Alas, the tag identifying the cultivar is nowhere to be found. At the back of the photo is our magnificent Cercis canadensis 'Burgundy Hearts'. Its deep purple leaves will remain that color until nighttime temperatures fail to fall below 70 degrees - likely some time in August.

That's a quick look at the garden. Check back in a few weeks to see summer begin unfolding on Pine Street.