Cleveland Hikes the Appalachian Trail: Part Two

by Elsa Johnson and John Cross

One of the nice resources that I got very used to, where techno influences hiking now, is an application called Guthooks. Essentially it uses the GPS on your phone to figure out where you are at any time along the trail. You can see where the next shelter is, how far you are away from water, and it allows people to leave comments on key points, so it was a good way to figure out “how hard is this next section of trail?” Once the north-bounders and south-bounders were intersecting, you got a nice sharing about how hard something would be – but also you could be thrown off a bit. A south-bounder could think a section was hard, because they were going up, but a north-bounder would think it was easy because they were going down.

Though sometimes down is harder…?

Yes! In New Hampshire and Maine the trail became very fond of these forty five degree rock faces. Going down it was a whole different ball game. Scary. You’d have to brace yourself – sometimes scoot on your butt and hope you don’t tear open your pack, or hurt your hands. That was the safest way.

What were the prettiest parts of the trail?

I have two favorite parts. One held the favorite spot for the longest time, until I got to the other. That was Roan Mountain, North Carolina. That’s the area called the Balds – just a gorgeous area. I loved those trails, when you can go up on top of the mountain and can see the trail across large expanses – huge expansive views — as you’re walking along. It was a complete reward to be hiking. That was my favorite until I got to New Hampshire, in the White Mountains. The Whites were extremely difficult. I’d be going through a difficult area, and there would be a family of four with a ten year old and a twelve year old; it kind of put you in your place. Mt. Lafayette – that was my high point of the trail. It was absolutely gorgeous up there. It was three thousand feet up, in a relatively short period of time. But once you’re up, the views are gorgeous. You can see from one mountain to another, to the Presidentials in the distance. The Whites in general are very gorgeous. It was much like in the Smokey’s. As a hiker going through, you almost get a little dulled.

Roan Mountain, NC/TN Balds
Mt. Lafayette, NH

How long did it take you to hike the whole trail?

It was a little over five months. I started April first on the approach trail and finished on September 9th. Which was about right, because when I was at home, planning, doing my spread sheets, I was trying to average thirteen miles a day, not accounting for what hikers call zero days, when you stay in town and don’t hike at all. Based on that, I ended ahead of my schedule. It was about half way, at the Pennsylvania mark, where I started to feel I’d had enough hiking. I still wanted to see all the sights – take that opportunity – but I also wanted to get back home. Most people don’t get the opportunity to take a hike like that. Anybody you talk to who has only been able to do a part of it and gets off, for other than physical reasons, regrets doing that. They wish they’d pushed harder for it. I knew going in that even if I felt miserable, I was going to push myself to the end.   

When you were hiking how did you and Corey (John’s wife) manage? Did she drive to visit you?

Luckily Ohio is kind of central to the Appalachian Trail. Yeah – She drove me and my hiking friend to Georgia, and hiked the approach trail with us, and then drove back home. She was just a trooper. She drove a lot of miles to visit me throughout the trail, and she picked me up at the end of it. Other times were scattered, when she had time off, and I had a town I was going to that was convenient for her to drive to.

Corey and John

Does the trail go through any towns?

Most of the time you have to get off the trail. Typically it’s only a mile off the trail, but sometimes five miles off. In the south the popular hot towns that the trail goes through are Hot Springs and Damascus, as well as a college town in New Hampshire (which I should remember but don’t!). In the northern states when you go into town you’re like a fish out of water, especially going into big towns, because when you’re hiking the trail you can smell people from a mile away. A lot of the smaller towns, the trail towns, kind of flow with the seasons. A really good gig to be in is the hostel business. In the north the hostels have both a hiking season and a skiing season that offset their costs, and the off-season, when they have time off. It works out well for them.

Town of Damascus
Tenting at Hostel in Damascus
Neels Gap and Shoe Tree

What about the people you’d meet?

Typically trail hikers have a nice mentality to them. Generally they’re kind – everyone is trying to pay it forward. And you run into a lot of ‘trail magic’. Especially in the south, where charities or a church group set up at an intersection where the trail crosses a road, and hand out candy, drinks, soda pops. I ran across one where they were making burgers, even veggie burgers for vegetarians, and fresh cut fries. I went past those countless times. If I lived close to the trail I would totally do that because on a hot day when you see someone with cold pops – that’s the bee’s knees, so wonderful. You really start to crave the luxuries of home, like air conditioning, ice cold drinks. Showers are a wondrous experience when you’re getting off the trail, especially if you’ve had several days of rain. The rain kind of washes you but you feel dirty, especially if you’re going through mud. But yeah – Trail Magic was just the most wonderful thing! I ran into folks who do it because they love to see hiker’s faces when they come out of the forest and see food.

Trail Magic
Trail Magic
Thru hikers
Thru hiker with dog

Did your phone work the whole trail?

It was spotty. I brought a GPS. A Garman Inreach Mini– light, but it was expensive; it costs about three hundred dollars, and then you have to buy a monthly subscription that runs from ten dollars a month to up to sixty. GPS works with clear skies. If it gets cloudy, it get a little wonky. When it came to the phone, sometimes Verizon would be the best one and sometimes AT&T. You could not be guaranteed to have cell service. It was very problematic when you were trying to go to a town – sometimes you’d be five miles away  from it and you’d need to figure out a ride, and you didn’t know, going down the side of the mountain, if you’d have reception to call into to town to get a ride – or if you’d  have to walk a road into town, which, after trail hiking, was very painful on the feet. Even though its flat, it hurts quite a bit. One thing people don’t know is that your cellphone GPS works even if you don’t have reception. I’d put it on airplane mode, and then use the Guthooks app to figure out where I was at any time.

When you got to shelters – did any of those have showers ?  

Very rarely. There were a few, about four of them.

Smoky Mountain Shelter

…water?

The shelters were typically placed close to a stream.

Water at shelter

And that water was safe to drink?

Yes. And no. In the more popular places it would have been tested. It got a little trickier when I got into the northern states because that was when I got into the peak summer season, and a lot of the seasonal streams started drying up. That was another place where trail magic came into play. As I got into New Jersey and New York, one of the luxuries and pure kindnesses of people was they’d leave out water jugs for people to take and be able to fill up. That’s probably where I had to drink some of the dirtiest water, where you’d filter it and it would still have this murky color to it, but you had to use it, because you knew in advance some of these other water sources were not going to be there, and the last thing you wanted was to go without water. There were some instances – at least two that I can think of – where the Appalachian Trail Conservancy has care takers, who stay and maintain the enclosed structures. Those have water that you can take, and showers. Oh – more than two. I didn’t go to the ones in Maine.

Water for a dry spell

Witch Hazels…A Wakeup Call for Gardeners!

by Mark Gilson

Witch hazels arrive early to garden parties in the Midwest, too early for some gardeners!  Put on your winter coat and muck-boots to catch their colorful shout-out, mostly in early March, before the forsythias and hellebores!  Although their early-spring blooms may be inconvenient for the faint of heart, they are delightful, fragrant, fascinating and well worth the trip outside! 

How does a winter flowering shrub become pollinated?  Actually, this occurs through the efforts of a ‘shivering moth’ that makes its rounds on cold nights.  Earnest palpitations raise the moth’s internal temperature by as much as fifty degrees! 

We are lucky to have a plantsman and wholesale nurseryman in Madison, Ohio, who makes it his business to collect and grow these under-appreciated shrubs: Tim Brotzman, Brotzman’s Nursery.  Tim invited us to his nursery on a cold muddy Saturday in early March 2019, a perfect day to witness this private pageant!  At the beginning of the long spruce-draped drive leading to the house that Tim built with his father, we find two bright yellow sentinels, Hamamaelis xintermedia palida.  My wife and I were unescorted at this point and thankful for the labels!  Each blossom on a Witch hazel is remarkable, only an inch or two wide, tiny colorful streamers exploding like party-poppers from tight centers all along the woody stems.   Flowers may accompany dried fruit capsules that popped the seeds up to thirty feet in the previous fall. Tim says horticulture makes us better observers.  As we catch up with him and hike through the orderly fields, he introduces each new plant, witch hazels and other friends, as treasured personal companions, with stories of their idiosyncrasies, temperament and original collection.  For an hour, we were fortunate to be the ‘shivering moths’ visiting each plant in the collection.

Tim Brotzman. (photo by Mark Gilson)

Tim began his horticultural education working for his father, Charlie, a renowned nurseryman, story-teller and poet.  After earning a degree from The Ohio State University in the early 1970s during the golden age of OSU Horticulture, Tim studied in England and Germany.  He worked with David Leitch, local world-famous hybridizer of rhododendrons, as well as distinguished plantsman at The Holden Arboretum and local nurseries.  Somewhere along the way, he traveled to Tibet on a plant-gathering expedition.  Among the legendary International Plant Propagators Association, Tim is recognized as a ‘fellow’ for his years of attendance and service.  The best thing about Tim is that for those with any connection to horticulture, he celebrates and extracts any knowledge and experience, no matter how limited!  Talking with Tim, whether a plantsman, local grower or master gardener, you are elevated to a revered place in a fundamentally important industry and pastime. 

The fall-blooming Hamamaelis virginiana is native to the Eastern and Southern US.  Find it in shady woods on your autumn hikes, sometimes clinging to the side of woodland ravines.   Native Americans utilized it for treatment of various inflammations and tumors.  A derivative is used in Witchazel’s Oil.  Hamamelis Mollis is more common in the nursery trade than the native fall-blooming form, although that is changing with renewed interest in native plants.  H. Mollis was crossed with H. japonica to form many cultivars of H. xintermedia common to the trade.  Red-flowering varieties were selected by early developers, including Hamamelis xintermedia ‘Diane, ‘Livea’, and ‘Jelena’, all of which Tim pointed out.   ‘Arnold’s Promise,’ brilliant yellow, remains one of the popular cultivars (although Tim discounts any connection to the body builder and former governor of California!).  Other varieties include ‘Glowing Embers,’ ‘Strawberries and Cream,’ and ‘Orange Peel.’  There are also vernalis types, including H. v. ‘Kohankie Red.’

H. x. Arnold’s Promise outside a nursery office in Madison.
(Photo by OSU-Extension Lake.)

Tim shares detailed origination data on all his plants, including one he collected from within an armored gunnery live-fire range in Louisiana (Tim’s friend, Tony Debevc, Debonne Vineyards, flew him there in his own plane).  As we walk among the rows, Tim trims flowering branches with his well-used Felco clippers for us to enjoy in our home.  We comment on the odors of each, from cinnamon to apple to a pleasing but obscure vernal scent.  As so many plants in our gardens are bred these days for color and other characteristics, it’s great to put our noses to work again! 

Text Box: Tim Brotzman gathering Witch Hazel stems for Kris Gilson (photo by Mark Gilson)

Recent cold winters were hard on the Witch Hazels.  One year the local temperatures dropped to 30 below zero, followed by a wet year, followed by a March with a precipitous drop to minus eight degrees.  Some of the casualties remain evident in the field.  Others returned to life amidst a bundle of low stems.  Each cultivar seems to require its own regimen, some seed-grown, most grafted.  We wonder how all this hard-won knowledge will be transferred on.  Tim is no longer a young man, despite his customary energy, wit and positive engagement.  Documentation of our horticultural experiences remains a challenge for our entire industry!   

Other gardening treasures abound along the edges of the Witch hazel trials…columnar white pine…a beech seedling from China that has proven unsusceptible, so far, to the mysterious ‘beech blight’… unusual pines…dogwoods…many one-of-a-kind specimens. 

Tim Brotzman gathering Witch Hazel stems for Kris Gilson (photo by Mark Gilson)

As a businessman, Tim is consumed with inventory matters, how to record, promote and price the myriad wholesale stock in his fields.  We value the time he took from his busy day to provide these precious moments…always too few in the day-to-day chaos of our chosen fields…for horticultural observation,  appreciation and instruction! 

A Grand Garden Tour of Southeast England: Part Four

Hever Castle

by Sonia Feldman

Day Four: Visit Hever Castle Gardens, lunch at Beaverbrook, return to London.

Hever is a castle in the most romantic sense of the word. Dating back to the 13th century, the structure is double moated, lavishly decorated, home to a 100 year old maze with walls made of Yew and the site of amorous, historically significant intrigue. The castle served as Anne Boleyn’s childhood home, and in 1526, when King Henry VIII began his pursuit of Anne—a courtship which eventually led to their marriage, her coronation and finally her beheading in 1536—he did so within the walls of Hever Castle.

Yet for all its drama and historical significance, Hever is surprisingly small—the size of perhaps a very large mansion by today’s standards. The rooms, though beautiful, are not very large. Most have low ceilings and limited windows. There is a coziness to the castle which humanizes the stories of international political intrigue that took place within its walls. You can imagine Anne living at Hever because you can imagine yourself living there.  

Here I have some good news: you can—at least you can stay the night in very close proximity. Two Edwardian wings, designed in the Tudor style and originally housing the castle staff, have been converted into a luxury bed and breakfast on Hever’s grounds. The rooms have beautiful four poster beds for you to dramatically throw yourself across, dark wood furniture and luxurious Hever Castle letter writing paper for whatever amorous missives you may wish to compose.

Most importantly, guests of the castle have access to the gardens and grounds during off hours, which means you can stroll through the property undisturbed by other visitors. Pose with the castle’s fanciful topiary creations to your heart’s content. Enjoy (sniff) the wisteria walk in happy solitude.  I particularly enjoyed having the rhododendron walk to myself, a grand grass promenade leading to a waterfall, flanked by blooming rhododendrons.  

The gates of the magnificent Italian garden are locked during off hours, but you can still have the place to yourself if you time it right. Enter exactly at 10:30, when visitors are just parking their cars and buying their tickets, and you’ll be able to walk in solitude through the grand marble Loggia all the way until it runs into the property’s 38 acre, manmade lake. Originally excavated by 800 men, the lake took two years’ near constant work to complete (1904-1906). This hundred year old labor yields a spectacular view. On your way back, admire the massive garden rooms set within the marble walls of the Loggia, stopping in particular to enjoy the expansive rose garden and classical statuary (see: the bust of a woman with a hole cut into her stone hat for a flower).

Here begins your return to London and the end of our tour. If you aren’t in a particular hurry, split up the drive with a lunch reservation at the very posh Beaverbrook, a hotel and country club only a few minutes off the motorway. One last beautiful, quiet place before you go home.

Condensed tour itinerary:

Day One: Leave London, lunch at Langshott Manor, visit Nymans, dinner at The Milk House, retire at Cloth Hall Oast Bed & Breakfast or Sissinghurst Castle Farmhouse.

Day Two: Visit Great Dixter House and Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or return to The Milk House, visit Sissinghurst Castle Gardens, dinner at Three Chimneys, retire to same lodgings.

Day Three: Visit Pashley Manor Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or Thackeray’s Restaurant, visit Penshurst Place, dinner at The Wheatsheaf, stay at Hever Castle Bed & Breakfast.

Day Four: Visit Hever Castle Gardens, lunch at Beaverbrook, return to London.

Nearby gardens that could be added to this tour: Knole, RHS Wisley, Chartwell, Lullingstone Castle, Great Comp Garden, Scotney Castle, Wakehurst, Godinton.

Sonia Feldman is a writer living in Cleveland, Ohio. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Cultured Magazine, Pembroke Magazine and Juked. She operates an email newsletter, which sends one good poem a week. Find more of her work on Instagram.

A Grand Garden Tour of Southeast England: Part Three

Pashley, Penshurst

by Sonia Feldman

After many years of refusing to learn even the names of plants, I took a big step in the other direction by agreeing to plan and then actually go on a tour of England’s great gardens with my mother. The following series gives an account of the four particularly glorious days of that trip during which we traveled through Kent, a region aptly named the Garden of England. Our tour took place at the end of May, and the descriptions of the gardens reflect that time of year. This is the third installment in the series. See the end of each article for a condensed itinerary of the entire tour.

Day Three: Visit Pashley Manor Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or Thackeray’s Restaurant, visit Penshurst Place, dinner at The Wheatsheaf, stay at Hever Castle Bed & Breakfast.

Every winter, gardeners plant 30,0000 tulip bulbs in 108 varieties on the grounds of Pashley Manor. With the arrival of spring, the garden celebrates a magnificent yield. The annual Tulip Festival takes place during the last week of April and first week of May. Our visit to Pashley on the cusp of June found the garden in a moment of respite from its most magnificent seasons. Too late for the tulips and too soon for the upcoming Rose Week, the mood at the garden was serene.

Manicured paths move you between elegant garden rooms (kitchen, rose) and vistas of the property’s sweeping manicured lawns and large pond. A violent hurricane in 1987 killed over a thousand trees on the property but opened up excellent views over the estate’s rolling prospect, and indeed one of the primary pleasures of this garden is stopping to sit down on the various benches and admire the view.

Pashley as the advantage of being one house from the front and another from the back. The original Tudor structure still greets you on arrival, but as you work your way around the property, you’ll find the garden set against a Georgian addition at the back, which is now magnificently covered in purple wisteria. Centuries collide throughout the property. The house has history dating back to the 15th century and evidence of gardening begins in the 16th, but the property has also served as a family home to the present owners, the Sellick family, since 1981.

Signs of modern life coexist with traditional gardening at Pashley more so than at the other gardens on this tour. Among the garden rooms, you will find a turquoise swimming pool, likely being enjoyed by the ducks, and a small but definitely modern greenhouse. The elderly owner himself can be found wandering through the grounds in a frayed cashmere sweater, speaking to the gardeners about their work. In spite of his advancing age, Sellick continues to perform the necessary annual maintenance on the enormous wisteria that covers the back of the house himself, carefully winding its new branches around supportive wiring.

If you remain at Pashley for lunch, a pack of outgoing ducks is sure to ask for a bite. Otherwise, head on to Thackeray’s Restaurant, located in the town of Royal Tonbridge Wells and conveniently on the way to the next garden on the tour.

After lunch, continue to Penshurst Place, a historically significant 14th century manor house with expansive gardens. Penshurst is one of the largest and most storied locations on the tour. The property belonged to two kings of England before eventually being granted to Sir William Sidney, father of the famous Elizabethan poet, soldier and courtier Sir Philip Sidney, and forebear to the property’s present owner, Viscount de L’Isle. This means that, remarkably, the Sidney family has been in continuous occupation of the property for more than 460 years.

With 11 acres of garden contributing to 48 total acres of grounds, Penshurst operates on a scale beyond what we’ve seen thus far on the tour. Walking the property feels more like visiting a park than a home. The garden does lack the strong sense of personality conveyed by places like Sissinghurst and Great Dixter, but Penshurst never comes across as stodgy or pretentious. Because the garden rooms are connected by doorways and passages often cleverly hidden from view by design of the neatly clipped yew hedges, the process of navigating from one to the next feels adventurous and playful.

The garden rooms vary greatly in size, some enormous, others intimate, and they manage to conceal an impressive variety of odd and charming features—a blue and yellow flower border after the colors of the Sidney family coat of arms, an enormous topiary bear and porcupine, the Stage Garden with a raised grass stage for children’s theater, a magical, bare bones wood gazebo crawling with green leaves and roses ready to burst and even an enormous Union flag made entirely of plants, which, surprisingly, isn’t nearly as garish as the idea suggests. But my favorite exploit of scale at Penshurst is the famous 100 meter peony border. Longer than a city block, this great line of peonies runs parallel to an equally long row of lilac bushes, all of them drooping heavily with blooming pink clusters and smelling like heaven.

If you are, in fact, faithfully following the details of this tour, you will breathe in all the lilacs you can and then drive to your new accommodations for the night. For reasons that will be explained (excitement builds) in the next article, those accommodations will be at Hever Castle. After you’ve checked in, head to dinner nearby at The Wheatsheaf.

Condensed tour itinerary:

Day One: Leave London, lunch at Langshott Manor, visit Nymans, dinner at The Milk House, retire at Cloth Hall Oast Bed & Breakfast or Sissinghurst Castle Farmhouse.

Day Two: Visit Great Dixter House and Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or return to The Milk House, visit Sissinghurst Castle Gardens, dinner at Three Chimneys, retire to same lodgings.

Day Three: Visit Pashley Manor Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or Thackeray’s Restaurant, visit Penshurst Place, dinner at The Wheatsheaf, stay at Hever Castle Bed & Breakfast.

Day Four: Visit Hever Castle Gardens, lunch at Beaverbrook, return to London.

Nearby gardens that could be added to this tour: Knole, RHS Wisley, Chartwell, Lullingstone Castle, Great Comp Garden, Scotney Castle, Wakehurst, Godinton.

Sonia Feldman is a writer living in Cleveland, Ohio. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Cultured Magazine, Pembroke Magazine and Juked. She operates an email newsletter, which sends one good poem a week. Find more of her work on Instagram.

A Grand Garden Tour of Southeast England: Part Two

Great Dixter, Sissinghurst

by Sonia Feldman

After many years of refusing to learn even the names of plants, I took a big step in the other direction by agreeing to plan and then actually go on a tour of England’s great gardens with my mother. The following series gives an account of the four particularly glorious days of that trip during which we traveled through Kent, a region aptly named the Garden of England. Our tour took place at the end of May, and the descriptions of the gardens reflect that time of year. This is the second installment in the series. See the end of each article for a condensed itinerary of the entire tour.

Day Two: Visit Great Dixter House and Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or return to The Milk House, visit Sissinghurst Castle Gardens, dinner at Three Chimneys, retire to same lodgings.

There’s no need for strenuous early rising on this grand tour; none of these gardens open before 10am. Wake at your leisure, and then drive to Great Dixter. This famed Arts and Crafts style garden first came into renown under the ownership of Christopher Lloyd, a gardener and well known garden writer. He inherited the property from his father and wrote about the garden throughout his 50 year career as an author. He favored a dense, labor intensive approach to planting, and today every inch of the garden seems to have something living in it. A procession of garden rooms lead you through the property, and each has something to surprise.

Lloyd writes, “I have no segregated colour schemes. In fact, I take it as a challenge to combine every sort of colour effectively. I have a constant awareness of colour and of what I am doing, but if I think a yellow candelabrum of mullein will look good rising from the middle of a quilt of pink phlox, I’ll put it there – or let it put itself there. Many plants in this garden are self-sown and they often provide me with excellent ideas. But I do also have some of my own!”

This attitude is everywhere on display in Lloyd’s profuse and exuberantly colored plantings. See: fabulous highlighter pink poppies starred with pale purple marks at the center that appear first in a deliberate bed in the sunken garden and then pop up, one or two flowers at a time, throughout the rest of the garden.

Perhaps the most memorable aspect of Great Dixter is its dense but delicate wildflower fields. They must be waded through rather than walked. They blow softly in the wind, and though appearing like some sort of natural miracle, the famous wildflowers are in fact carefully cultivated by the gardening team. Native and introduced plants combine to create a lush floral carpet in several of the garden rooms, as well as in meadows that extend out from the property. The wildflowers are cut twice a year, in August and late autumn, only once the contents have completely ripened and shed their seeds.

It’s not uncommon for a garden to happen on the ground, and in visiting so many of these green spaces, you may find your eyes continually at your feet. Not so at Great Dixter. Rather than looking down at flowers in low beds, you will find that the garden happens at hip height or higher. In one particularly transporting room, the plants are as tall as the visitors, or taller. Many droop from above to meet your uplifted gaze. Foliage brushes against your waist, chest and shoulders. The garden envelops you. To me, Great Dixter felt like a dream, and I began to cry as we moved from room to room, the sun coming out to push away morning clouds and reveal a blue sky.

Plan to have lunch at Great Dixter, The Milk House or the next destination on the itinerary—Sissinghurst Castle Garden.

Since the middle ages, Sissinghurst has seen enormously diverse occupants and uses. A castle, a prison camp, a work house—the property was eventually purchased in the 20th century by Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson, amateur gardeners and Bloomsbury Group intellectuals. They came to the property after Sackville-West’s ancestral home passed through primogeniture to her uncle and began from scratch to create what is now a world renowned garden.

The two had a loving, long term marriage; they were also gay, and both maintained relationships outside of their union. Sackville-West famously had an affair with writer Virginia Woolf. One of the couple’s sons, Nigel Nicolson, eventually published a book describing the unusual nature of his parents’ relationship. Titled Portrait of a Marriage: Vita Sackville-West and Harold Nicolson, the book catapulted the property into public attention. Thanks to the garden’s intriguing origins and romantic approach to planting, it is now among the most visited properties in the National Trust collection.

The garden is designed around a progressing series of garden rooms, one of the first to be made in this now traditional style. Old brick walls and yew hedges (see: some full and green, some cut back to their brown bones for a fresh start) define these rooms, which proceed on an axis around a central circle of trimmed green grass. Each room has its own delights, often organized by color. One—a riot of fiery red, orange and yellow blooms. Another—all white flowers set against a mixture of glaucous plants and green leaves.

Sissinghurst continually spills over its own borders. An impossible profusion of tiny yellow roses blooms up Sissinghurst’s central tower. The climbing flowers are so numerous they appear to be a kind of cloud hovering against the body of the building. Sackville-West and Nicolson were passionate amateur gardeners, meaning they learned as they went. The property’s present gardeners do their best to keep this experimental spirit alive by limiting interference—allowing flowers to spread unexpectedly into new beds and heavy blooms to droop into the garden’s pathways. This lush, overgrown approach to planting creates a romanticism of atmosphere that is perhaps at the heart of the garden’s enduring charm.

For dinner, head to The Three Chimneys. The pub’s name is a French pun based on its location at the intersection of three roads. It comes from the French prisoners who were detained at nearby Sissinghurst during the Seven Years’ War. Les Trois Chemins, French for “the three paths,” became The Three Chimneys. In addition to playful nomenclature, the pub offers good food and a pleasant garden, if you haven’t had enough greenery yet for the day.

Condensed tour itinerary:

Day One: Leave London, lunch at Langshott Manor, visit Nymans, dinner at The Milk House, retire at Cloth Hall Oast Bed & Breakfast or Sissinghurst Castle Farmhouse.

Day Two: Visit Great Dixter House and Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or return to The Milk House, visit Sissinghurst Castle Gardens, dinner at Three Chimneys, retire to same lodgings.

Day Three: Visit Pashley Manor Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or Thackeray’s Restaurant, visit Penshurst Place, dinner at The Wheatsheaf, stay at Hever Castle Bed & Breakfast.

Day Four: Visit Hever Castle Gardens, lunch at Beaverbrook, return to London.

Nearby gardens that could be added to this tour: Knole, RHS Wisley, Chartwell, Lullingstone Castle, Great Comp Garden, Scotney Castle, Wakehurst, Godinton.

Sonia Feldman is a writer living in Cleveland, Ohio. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Cultured Magazine, Pembroke Magazine and Juked. She operates an email newsletter, which sends one good poem a week. Find more of her work on Instagram.

A Grand Garden Tour of Southeast England: Part One

Langshott Manor, Nymans

by Sonia Feldman

After many years of refusing to learn even the names of plants, I took a big step in the other direction by agreeing to plan and then actually go on a tour of England’s great gardens with my mother. The following series gives an account of the four particularly glorious days of that trip during which we traveled through Kent, a region aptly named the Garden of England. Our tour took place at the end of May, and the descriptions of the gardens reflect that time of year. This is the first installment in the series. See the end of each article for a condensed itinerary of the entire tour.

Day One: Leave London, lunch at Langshott Manor, visit Nymans, dinner at The Milk House, retire at Cloth Hall Oast Bed & Breakfast or Sissinghurst Castle Farmhouse.

Head south from London in your rental car. After an hour or so of driving—time dependent on whether or not you immediately crash your vehicle on the wrong side of the road—stop for lunch at Langshott Manor. This 16th century Elizabethan hotel is conveniently located just off the M23, and you will likely have the pretty garden behind the restaurant to yourself. Walk slowly to admire the deep flowering borders set against old brick walls crawling with fragrant white wisteria (see: a single orange poppy standing in a clutch of purple allium).

Once you’re stout with flowers and tea, continue on to Nymans. This is the only West Sussex garden on our tour because, even though we are heading to Kent, it can’t be missed. Nymans estate became a garden destination in the late 19th century thanks to its purchase by Leonard Messel, a German Jew who settled in England. Messel was anxious to make friends and very reasonably concluded that integration into the stiff English social scene would be easier if he had a place to throw parties. With the help of his head gardener, James Comber, Messel successfully transformed Nymans’ expansive property into an exuberant outdoor destination for society events and later, the eager public.

Nymans is a garden full of ideas and enough space to house them. Visitors can admire a dry weather bed, a Mediterranean bed, a bed of enormous pink, orange, yellow and white rhododendrons growing all mixed up with one another, a sunken garden, a rock garden, a rose garden (see: nepeta at the feet of blushing pink rose bushes), a spring border that blooms only in the spring situated on an X axis with a summer border that only blooms in the summer and a truly incredible wisteria walk. The wisteria plants, over 100 years old, have trunks like trees and flowering purple racemes two feet long—a heaven of scent.

This combination of formal and informal gardens wraps around the house, leading the visitor to sprawling views of the dramatic High Weald of Sussex. The house, now partially in ruins, makes a romantic backdrop for the garden. A devastating fire in the middle of the 20th century reduced much of the upper stories to a single façade, and its vacant windows make picture frames for the blue sky behind. Flowering plants climb the remaining stone exterior.

Stay until the garden closes at 5:00pm and then head east to reach your lodgings for the evening. We stayed at the well located and very charming Cloth Hall Oast Bed & Breakfast. The B&B is in fact a converted oast house—a building designed for drying hops—and has its own beautiful garden, pool and pond. The nearby Sissinghurst Castle Farmhouse is another convenient option for garden visiting. Finish the day with dinner at The Milk House, elevated pub fare with local ingredients in a 16th century hall house.

Condensed tour itinerary:

Day One: Leave London, lunch at Langshott Manor, visit Nymans, dinner at The Milk House, retire at Cloth Hall Oast Bed & Breakfast or Sissinghurst Castle Farmhouse.

Day Two: Visit Great Dixter House and Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or return to The Milk House, visit Sissinghurst Castle Gardens, dinner at Three Chimneys, retire to same lodgings.

Day Three: Visit Pashley Manor Gardens, lunch at one of the gardens or Thackeray’s Restaurant, visit Penshurst Place, dinner at The Wheatsheaf, stay at Hever Castle Bed & Breakfast

Day Four: Visit Hever Castle Gardens, lunch at Beaverbrook, return to London.

Nearby gardens that could be added to this tour: Knole, RHS Wisley, Chartwell, Lullingstone Castle, Great Comp Garden, Scotney Castle, Wakehurst, Godinton.

Sonia Feldman is a writer living in Cleveland, Ohio. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Cultured Magazine, Pembroke Magazine and Juked. She operates an email newsletter, which sends one good poem a week. Find more of her work on Instagram.

May You Live In Interesting Times…

by Elsa Johnson

….As Terry Pratchett has someone say, at some point, in nearly every one of his outrageously satirical, fantastical, ridiculous, compassionate, and funny novels. And we do; we surely do, I think, nearly every day, as I watch the foxes now in control of the chicken coop, the wolves now ‘guarding’ the herd, anticipatory saliva dripping from their ravening teeth.

It is not a new fight.

I am reminded of this by an essay/book review in the New York Review of Books: My Land, Your Land, by Bill McKibben (January 16th issue # LXVII, number 1). The article is ostensibly a review of two books – John Taliaferro’s Grinnell: America’s Environmental Pioneer and His Restless Drive to Save the West; and John Clayton’s Natural Rivals: John Muir, Gifford Pinchot, and the Creation of America’s Public Lands. But as usual in the NYRB, the review stands by itself as an essay with an independent internal point of view that speaks in its own right, the subject of which is precisely this moment in time where the balance of the scale has tipped heavily away from the long term appreciation and preservation of public lands as treasured entities with their own intrinsic existential value, toward the valuing of public lands for their long term resource development potential by private interests, and their short term exploitation potential, both to be achieved by deregulation and privatization. This, of course, will take them, forever, out of the public trust.

The Great Dismantling, it is called.  

In this telling Grinnell and Muir are the singers/story tellers, the lyrical archdruids of saving-nature, while Gifford Pinchot stands on the other side, of managed finite resources and extraction. But as McKibben points out, before there can be dispute over how to use public lands, there has to be public lands, and all these men played a role in convincing Congress, making that happen, and these books that he is reviewing are that story.  But as public land accumulated – it eventually came to account for about 25% of our land — these differences of ‘emphasis’ became clearer. While the most scenic, best loved (and lucky) places became our treasured national parks and wildernesses, McKibben tells us, “the great bulk of the land was turned over to the Forest Service and The Bureau of Land Management, ….which tended to be captured ….by the industries (mining, grazing, logging) …..And even that did not go too badly until “this current regime (which has) given the fossil fuel industry carte blanche on our public lands …. at precisely the wrong time.”

Do I need to tell you McKibben favors Democratic candidates – most of whom favor a strong emphasis on protection of public lands? We need, says McKibben a renaissance of the spirit of the early pioneers; “their combination of idealism and realism delivered us a great gift.” …a gift that is being taken away…

He’s pretty sure where not to look for that.

A few after-words from me.

Grinnell spent much of his life defending both wildlife and Native Americans. He founded the Audubon Society, and played an important role in helping to protect Glacier National Park, where a mountain and its glacier are named after him (and which I hiked up to the edge of, the summer I was 18 years old, in a pair of no-sole soft leather moccasins, which, were I to try to do today, would cripple me for the rest of my life). 

Muir was something of a wild-man and a euphoric writer of wilderness. Read his A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf; or Wilderness Essays, or the collection called The Wild Muir, with its beautiful wood block illustrations. The man was driven, fearless, and riveting. In The Wild Muir I am particularly fond of one of the two pieces not written by Muir but about him. It is titled The Rescue at Glenora Peak and much of it can be found at https://books.google.com The Wild Muir : Twenty Two of John Muir’s Greatest Adventures; The Rescue at Glenora Peak, page 145. Read this hair-raising rescue on line, and enjoy Fiona King’s art, one example of which we include here.

But most of all this MYRB review/essay reminded me of how much good nature writing I have read and loved over the years, (though not so much recently — who has the mind for it amid all this craziness?) – Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire; John McPhee’s Coming Into the Country; Annals of the Former World; Encounters with the Archdruid….  And I think, in these a-little-too-interesting times, in these darkest days of winter-but-not-very-winter (mixed thanks to global warming) it’s good to go back to and revisit the absorbing power of alchemical books.

I invite you to read.

From the hinterlands of Clover, South Carolina

Gardenopolis Cleveland visits the Botanical Gardens at the University of North Carolina, Charlotte

by Elsa Johnson

What do gardeners/garden designers/environmentalists do when we visit relatives in other climes?

Weather permitting, we get out and hike, or seek out public gardens. Or both.  Over the holidays this December, after chalking up one day to non-stop cooking, and another to non-stop eating (g r o a n), we managed to stay pretty active three out of five days. There are good hiking sites just a little west of Charlotte, in a connected series of parks in South and North Carolina comprised of King’s Mountain (S.C.), The Pinnacle, and Crowder’s Mountain (both in N.C). On an unnaturally balmy (even for South Carolina – 70 degrees) December 26th we dedicated our overeating penance to the climb up the Pinnacle, a metamorphic outcrop.

It seemed that half of Charlotte had the same idea. Not counting the small girl having a total meltdown on the way down after tripping on a tree root, it was delightful — and steep, and sweaty — for we found ourselves in the company of a friendly global community of every color and place of origin, which was delicious, and we felt right at home. Of course, we are getting older, and I am still recovering from my knee replacement and needed to stop and rest every couple hundred feet in the steepest places near the top, while the younger hikers politely breezed past. The next day, a bit sore, we stayed closer to Clover, and walked in the very flat city park, with its interesting naturally exposed bedrock.

On our final day, rather than revisiting Stowe Botanical Gardens, which we have been to many times, we drove to the Botanical Gardens at the University of North Carolina, Charlotte. This is comprised of a greenhouse, which was not open, and two distinct gardens set within a hilly glen with a small stream flowing through.

The less interesting of these, at this time of year, was the entirely natural (in its aesthetic) Ralph Van Landingham Glen, located entirely within a gated exclosure. The Glen, we  are told, contains a major collection of  rhododendron and azalea shrubs, as well as 900 species of native trees, wildflowers, vines, and ferns, but, although pleasant, there was nothing in bloom – everything was dormant — so there wasn’t much to see.

The more interesting garden at this time of the year was the more “designed” (mostly in an architecturally Oriental theme) three acre Susie B Harwood Garden. There was a waterfall feature and a stream running through the valley, an Asian style gazebo, various other designed water channels, and a moon gate where we took each other’s pictures to send out as New Year greetings. Many foliage plants looked tropical and very green and thriving, though it is technically winter. The camellias were in bloom, and there were late season figs on a fig tree – imagine that!  

Our last stop was Freedom Park, just south of downtown Charlotte, on the edge of an affluent neighborhood. Whoever was not hiking the Pinnacle and Crowder’s Mountain seemed to be there. Once again – a very cosmopolitan and global population. We were looking for demonstration community gardens I had read about, run by local Master Gardeners. Alas, we never found the gardens, but during our search we encountered some lovely examples of flowering humanity.

Here’s to 2020!

Heights Tree People — What You Need to Know

by Elsa Johnson

Two Things:

#1 – One of the most effective things we can do to combat climate change and the perils of a warming planet is plant trees.  Lots and lots of trees.

#2 – Cleveland has lost 6% of its tree canopy, a recent regional study shows.

Enter the Heights Tree People.

It all began when several Heights residents­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­,­ who had taken the 2018 Tree Stewards training program given by Holden Arboretum and The Western Reserve Land Conservancy, were looking to put their training to use in their own balliwicks, the inner-ring suburbs of Cleveland Heights and Shaker Heights. Although both communities have significantly better tree canopy coverage than the City of Cleveland, still, the knowledge of canopy loss proved motivating.  Furthermore, many of Heights trees (both Cleveland, Shaker, and University) are aging, especially in those areas earliest developed, now 100 years old. Aging trees hold more carbon, but are vulnerable — to insects, disease, and, as recently experienced, to wind damage from climate-change driven micro-bursts. Then too, some specific neighborhoods offer considerably less canopy than others.

A core group of Heights Tree People was quickly formed in the winter of 2019 and a mission established:

1.) To plant and care for trees in our neighborhoods, the Cities of Cleveland Heights, Shaker Heights, University Heights, and the upland areas of the Cities of Cleveland and East Cleveland.

2.) to share knowledge and advocate for an enduring tree culture; and

3.) increase the health, vitality, and happiness of our local habitat, and, through it, the planet.

All noble goals — and the Tree People let no moss grow under their toes – in the planting season the group planted 111 trees: 1 in East Cleveland, 3 in Shaker Heights, 12 in Cleveland, and 95 in Cleveland Heights. Not a shabby start for an all-volunteer organization.

Forty four different species of tree, both native and non-native species, were planted, but considerably more native species were planted than non-native species, and included diverse oaks and maples, as well as birch, blackgum, dogwood, redwood, redbud, hornbeam, locust, cypress, Kentucky coffeetree, sourwood, stewartia, larch, sassafras, and more.

How did it work?

Upon request the Tree People gifted people in the Heights and nearby Cleveland neighborhoods with a correctly planted tree on their property; trees were planted in the neighborhoods of Antisdale and Grosvenor, Potter Village, Fairfax between Lee and Coventry, and East 130th Street, which organized itself and planted 11 trees on their street “changing the landscape of the entire street”. Requests for tree-lawn trees were relayed to the City Forester.  In addition, the group planned, with City support, a Reconciliation Tree Planting at the Cleveland Heights Community Center after this fall’s divisive election, and one HTP member worked with Tree Stewards from the Western Reserve Land Conservancy to stake and cage (to protect from deer rub) young oak saplings in the Great Meadow area of Forest Hill Park in East Cleveland. 

The Heights Tree People are taking requests for spring planting. To make a request for a tree on your property contact heightstreepeople@gmail.com.  

Thinking big?– organize your street, like E. 130th did. 

Death Avenue: Then and Now

by Lois Rose

In the 1880s, the High Line was constructed as a street level railroad delivering mostly food products to lower Manhattan. Tenth Avenue became known as Death Avenue due to the large number of fatalities at railroad crossings (540 by 1910!). In the 1920s, the West Side Cowboys on horseback helped pedestrians avoid collisions with the trains. The city took note of the hazardous conditions, and by 1924 called for the construction of an elevated line, which is what we now know as the High Line.

The elevated tracks were fully operational by 1934, and due to increased truck traffic were in disrepair by the 1980s. In 1999, CSX opened the area to proposals for reuse.

On a sub-freezing sunny Saturday morning in October, I finally had my first encounter with New York’s High Line.  The former rail line was retrofitted as a public park starting in 2006 and mostly completed by 2014.  This 30- foot elevated botanical masterpiece runs along 10th Avenue for 1.45 miles.  Camera in hand I documented everything in sight, with nary a person blocking my view.  I took in many of the 400 plus types of trees, shrubs, perennials, vines and grasses (a lot of grasses) that despite the freeze and lateness of the season looked pretty good.

The designer of this showpiece was Piet Oudolf, best known in the US for the Lurie Gardens at Millennium Park in Chicago. He was required by the funders to reflect some of the natural environment in the plant community that existed on the High Line before renovation.  The plants he chose perform a function and meet a specific visual outcome.  They will contribute, according to Oudolf, to biodiversity by supporting habitats where insects, birds and other animals can survive.

Over fifty percent of the plant material is native.  The volunteer organization that maintains the High Line Park, the Friends of the High Line, have plant lists and garden zones detailed on their website.

As a few more people arrived while I was there, I noticed that most of them did not seem to notice the plants at all. They took photos of the streets below, the architectural stand outs along the way, and each other.  But not the plants.

Now, no cowboys are needed to protect pedestrians, except perhaps on very crowded summer days when the place is packed with tourists.

For those looking for more history about the High Line, check out the following resources:

https://www.livinthehighline.com/the-original-urban-cowboy/ (includes video)
https://www.thehighline.org/history/
https://ny.curbed.com/2019/5/7/18525802/high-line-new-york-park-guide-entrances-map