This week I did something I thought I never would; I opened my garden for a garden tour, and it was a lovely, validating experience.  

You can imagine the behind-the-scenes preparation.  Even with several weeks notice, there was manic weeding, edging and mowing to do the day of the tour.  And there were doubts.  My garden was one of five selected by the Thunder Bay Horticultural Society for a weekday evening tour for their members.  I thought, "This is an informed audience.  Surely they will notice the insect damage on my begonias."

Then, as both gardening acquaintances and people I didn't know came though the gate, I felt my doubts fade.  And I learned some nice things.

For five growing seasons, I've worked to create a personal space that is both beautiful and healthy.  I am always 'up close' with my flowering perennials and my vegetables which means I naturally focus on the 'pieces' of the garden.  As people strolled about, they commented freely on my garden 'as a whole'.  The few plants that didn't get deadheaded and the pots that offered fewer-than-hoped-for blooms suddenly seemed unimportant. 

I discovered that people were responding to the way my garden made them feel.  Several described my garden as 'calming'.  I thought, "Really?  That's how this green space feels to you?  Wow, that is nice."  

Now you cannot analyze that feeling; it would be like trying to bottle the light fragrance of the evening air.  You would be considering the 'parts' of the garden – the many shades of green the hostas infuse into the shade border, the punch of red coleus and coral impatiens, the feather reed grasses catching the lowering evening sun.  No, it's the 'whole' of it that is calming.  I know this, and yet, it took the tour and those comments to know it again. 

That evening nearly 50 people visited my garden.  Over the past 10 years, I've worked on the Thunder Bay Art Gallery Garden Tour – an important annual fundraiser – as a Master Gardener volunteer, answering garden question and talking about featured plants.  But sharing your own garden in a public way feels different.  I have a new appreciation for the generosity of gardeners who agree to be on annual tours.

You are welcome to come through the gate too.  Here's a short morning tour.​

There are many plants I wish were in my garden, but when spring arrives the one I miss the most is Pasque Flower or Prairie Crocus (Pulsatilla vulgaris).  While many plants are still sleeping in the spring garden, Pasque Flower is happy to hail the new season.  

This plant is native to much of Canada.  According to the Canadian Wildlife Federation, Pasque Flower ranges "from the Yukon and Northwest Territories down through British Columbia and across to the western tip of Ontario and is the floral emblem of Manitoba."  It is typically found in "open areas such as prairies, rocky outcrops, slopes and occasionally in woodland clearings."

Pasque Flower is also a useful, if little known, pollinator plant. The flowers offer abundant pollen when bees are eager for an early-season food source.  Some observe that the generous, upright flowers provide a place for small insects to warm up, thanks to the arrangement of their sepals which reflect sunshine, increasing the temperature inside the bloom by several degrees.

Like me, you may fall for the fuzzy stems and the charming little 'pinwheels' that form from the spent flowers. These interesting structures  add texture in the garden for some weeks.  

​Take a little time to read cultivation requirements for this hardy plant at Dave's Garden. 

And, you can read more about cultivated varieties in Susan Mahr's article at the University of Wisconsin-Madison Extension.  Check your nursery for plants or purchase seeds online. 

You might guess how much I like Pasque Flower as you view my new home page image. 
​So beautiful, don't you think?

Want to grow Pasque Flower in your garden?  Find plants and seeds at these locations:
Canning Perennials - for 'Alba' or white Pasque Flower
Wildflower Farm - for seeds

The structures we place in the garden are a wintertime diversion.  When temperatures plummet and we must stay indoors, these 'snow catchers' give us something to admire from inside.  And wouldn't you love to have one of these giant pine cones created by Beamsville, ON metal artist Floyd Elzinga?  Out-sized and simply marvelous.

 As writer Jodi DeLong observes in Saltscapes Magazine, "Winter is more than a season of hibernation in our gardens; it offers insights and visual delights... It’s a softer, more subtle sort of garden, especially when snow wafts gently down or sunlight adds watercolour shadows to the mix. We just relax, enjoy what’s already planted, and think about what we might want to do next spring.​"

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
 ― William Blake

The image of a spectacular Kalanchoe blossom jump-started some online investigation this week.  I wanted to know more about this popular succulent and this image in particular.

It turns out the plant in the photo is actually Bryophyllum delagoense, often called Mother of Millions. It is frequently placed in the Kalanchoe plant genus and is labelled as such.  The small structures you can see in the image are tiny plantlets that break off and ultimately take root.  It's a great adaption for success.  

I should have realized this colourful bloom couldn't belong to 
Kalanchoe blossfeldiana (also called Christmas Kalanchoe, Florist Kalanchoe, Madagascar Widow’s-thrill or Flaming Katy). But then, every plant family has its 'colourful' relatives, right?

The more common Kalanchoe I know grows well indoors, given judicious watering and good drainage.  When its blooms are spent, it can be coaxed into bloom again with a simulated six-week winter. It takes a little effort, but with such bright rewarding blooms, it is worth it.

I browsed several articles about Kalanchoe.  I recommend reading Kalanchoe blossfeldiana Care & Reblooming ​(2 Jan 2018) by fellow blogger Kat McCarthy at The Succulent Eclectic. It's an excellent primer. Then head off to the supermarket or florist to purchase one of these sweet little succulents.  What a nice way to brighten the winter days.

Want to know more?
Kalanchoe is among the top ten most difficult common plant names, according to David Beaulieu, who compiled the list in his article Why We Use Scientific Names for Plants.  Kalanchoe has four pronunciations, all of which are correct! 

• KA-luhn-KO-e
• kuh-LANG-ko-e
• KAL-uhn-cho
• kuh-LAN-cho

Two things came my way today – a beautiful picture and a meaningful quote.  These two things remind me – or gently admonish me –  that it's high time something bloomed on my garden blog. 

The Picture ...
This bellflower (I cannot name the campanula cultivar) was photographed quickly in the front yard of a gardening acquaintance.  It was blooming happily in a perennial bed that earlier in the season I'd help to redesign. 

Sharing experience is a natural impulse for most gardeners.  I like to think I'm fairly generous in sharing the things I've learned in my garden.  Still, I hadn't thought about 'not sharing' in quite this way.  I think Annie Dillard is right.  When we fail to share what we've learned – and that reaches across all areas of life – it does become lost to us.  I've found what is true in life is true in the garden and vice versa.  The lessons flow from one to the other.  So I ask you – could a garden writer receive a stronger prompt to get busy and write?

​Until the next post ...