Let it Snow

 As the snow falls, covering everything in a blanket of white, I often feel a certain restlessness and sense of anticipation.  I think about going outside to work in my garden, and gaze out of the window at a place that looks foreign and unfamiliar.  There is nothing to do now.  The garden is asleep, lying dormant beneath the frozen soil.

But as I look, I realize that the snow has a way of bringing out the quiet beauty of the sleeping garden, transforming it into something magical.  It is full of a different kind of life, as a variety of shapes, colors, and textures appear that are normally hidden behind foliage and overshadowed by the flashy colors and intoxicating aromas of spring and summer flowers.  It is a time to observe the structure, the bones of the garden.  The bright white of the snow creates a pure backdrop for such beautiful forms, enhancing what would otherwise go unnoticed. 

L'Orto Botanico di Padova

Continuing my search for plant life in and around Venice, I was told about L'Orto Botanico di Padova, and knew that this was a place that I needed to see.

The garden is located in the city of Padova, a ten minute train ride from Venice, and is a part of the University of Padova.  One of the oldest existing medicinal and botanical gardens, the Orto Botanico is quite different from any other garden that I have seen, and is by far the oldest.  I was interested to see that this garden appeared to be set up more for education, study, and use, rather than for visual beauty.  Though within this structure a natural beauty was present.  Each plant was carefully separated and labeled, with the Fennel occupying it's own little plot of land next to a Chinese Lantern.

I could have spent hours inspecting every single plant.  I visited the garden a bit late in the season, but there was still plenty to see.  Like the little guy below!

 

When I first arrived in Padova, a strong fragrance made it's way down the narrow streets from the balconies high above.  It was a smell that resembled peaches, perfume, and flowers.  When I arrived at the garden, the fragrance was stronger than ever, and just as I was about to leave, I was able to locate the source.  Olea Fragrans.....a relative of the olive!

The Colors of Burano!

Burano is just a short vaporetto trip away from Venice and is best known for their tradition of lace making.  While the lace beckons most tourists, I was most drawn to the quiet streets and the colorful surprises around every corner.  Everywhere I looked in Burano, seemed as if I was walking through a painting, full of carefully composed color, line, and texture.  The light was surreal, and at times incredibly intense on my eyes.  It emphasized shapes, and elongated shadows, making everything appear crisp and clear.  The striped curtains blowing in the wind and the sense of quiet and heightened clarity was dreamy, like something taken right out of a Fellini film. 

Of course one of my main objectives was to search for plant life on Burano....

 

 Oh.....Burano!

A Trip to the Giardino Giusti in Verona

After a hectic October on the East Coast, filled with hurricanes and snowstorms I am finally ready to revisit and share more of my adventures in Italy.  While Venice itself has been recently inundated with high waters I am quickly reminded of how powerful nature can be.
 
One of my favorite trips while spending a month in Venice, was to the town of Verona.  Verona is about a 2 hour train ride from Venice, depending on which train you take, and is a beautiful walled city that maintains a combination of ancient and modern culture.  The Adige river runs through the city and numerous bridges allow you to easily cross to the other side.  Roman ruins are still present amidst the more modern buildings and roads, with cars and mopeds zipping along.

 I had been in search of formal Italian Gardens during this visit, and remembered reading about the Giardino Giusti in a Garden Book that I had back at home.  The Boboli Gardens in Florence is one of my favorite places to visit, and I wanted to see if I could find something that was similar, but new.  The Giardino Giusti was built in the late 1500's and is an ideal example of the relationship between humans and the natural world.

It was a beautiful day as I made my way through the city, across the bridge and along the narrow sidewalks.  When I finally arrived at the garden, the entrance appeared to be just an ordinary doorway of of an otherwise moderately busy side street.   I entered the main courtyard, and was struck immediately by the smell of the cypress trees and the sounds of the birds.  I was now in a completely different world.  After having spent weeks in an ancient city of water and stone, I noticed a moisture in the air and a smell of the earth that seemed as if it was unfamiliar and amplified.

An overwhelming sense of quiet was present in the garden, like time had been slowed or stopped, and buzzing city street that I had just come from, had vanished.  I just stood for a moment absorbing the smells, sounds, the light and the shapes.  Everything was neatly manicured and there were winding boxwood labyrinths around every turn.  Statues stood frozen in time and potted citrus trees and bright blue plumbego added accents to the green mazes.

 

I began walking along the paths, through the dark foliage, winding my way up and up...

When I encountered this guy, ominously looking out over the garden from high above.  Supposedly this balcony monster used breathe actual fire, as the mouth was said to have housed a fire pit.

Every new step led to a more magnificent view, and before I knew it, I had an aerial view of the entire garden and city of Verona.  There is something so magical about wandering through a garden and suddenly, without even realizing it, you find yourself hovering above the earth. 

Tearing myself away, I began my descent back down to the earth...

When I got back down I began noticing all of the colors of blooming plants an flowers, coleus, cleome, white anemonies and purple salvia.

Two moss covered fountains frame the entrance to the garden, one of them a lovely home to 3 turtles and some fish.  The moss had completely covered what used to be ornamentation on each fountain, causing them to appear as if they were in a state of coming to life.

On my way out, I read an inscription on this old cypress tree that had been written by Goethe in the year 1786 in Verona.  I looked up and saw what appeared to be a fig tree growing out of the bark of the cypress, a seemingly symbolic and beautiful sight.