Walking with the Wildflowers-Ralph Stover State Park

 A few weeks ago, while strolling through Ralph Stover State Park in Pennsylvania,  I stumbled upon a wonderfully miniature exotic world of wildflowers. The park is situated along the Tohickon Creek, marking the location of an old water powered grist mill that once stood here.  The terrain and plant life, both natural and man-made is other worldly.  

Suited for gnomes and fairies alike, these tiny flowers could be spotted everywhere, peeking out from beneath a lush green carpet. They provided dots of color in a landscape that had a few days before, been under water. 

 

There had been high waters in the area due to rain just a few days earlier, and both the ground and trees showed signs of being submerged.  Branches and leaves clung desprately to the trees as if they were trying to re-create one of Andy Goldsworthy's works of art. 
 
  

The plants and wildflowers however held their ground, and I was able to observe some really  surprising and beautiful varieties.

 Below is the photographic catalog of my discoveries.

 

A short hike over the bridge and up the hill, was High Rocks, a rock climbing site with magnificent views of the surrounding landscape and creek.

I had to be reminded for a moment, to look up from the miniature landscape that I had become immersed in, to the expansive view of Tohickon Creek in the early evening.  A perfect way to end a spring day. 

And for now, I will look forward to coming up here in the fall, to see the trees full of color and search for other tiny, unexpected wonders. 

Cross Estate Gardens: Bernardsville, New Jersey

Today I stumbled upon a hidden gem, tucked away in historic Bernardsville, New Jersey.   I had passed the sign for the Cross Estate Gardens many times, on my way through Jockey Hollow Historical Park, usually on my way to a berry or apple picking adventure, or visits to other parks and gardens in the area.  Each time that I passed the sign, I was reminded of my curiosity and desire to see what this mysterious place was, but never made the turn....until today. 

 I followed the long country road though the hills and forest, eventually winding up at the estate.  The house looked as if it had been long forgotten from a different era of history, surrounded by the quiet green landscape, and old stone walls and paths.  As I approached and entered the gardens, I felt as if I was walking into a secret garden, like something out of Great Expectations.  The property somehow felt forgotten, though I could see and feel that the mark of human hands and care for the property was present.

I walked down the path and into the manicured courtyard, and made my way down the rounded stone steps.  As I opened the gate, I caught a glimpse of a formal gardens that were full of color and blooms, my heart started to race with excitement and discovery. 

The intoxicating scent of autumn clematis filled the air, while pink anemonies stood tall and proud.

As I wandered around the raised beds, along the brick paths, I came across some bright botanical blooms.  The formal garden was two tiered with stone walls and historical traces throughout.

Throughout the garden, I could feel the balance between manicured and cultivated plants and those that felt more natural and wild.  Entering each space allowed for a different type of experience and contemplation, like moving though the rooms of a house. 

The 5 story stone water tower stands like a ruin of the past, a striking reminder that the marks that we make remain, even as everything around us changes.

 I will return to this great little garden again and again now, to watch it transform and change with each season.

Monhegan Island....My Anthill.

Summer is upon us, and those pesky back to school commercials are beginning to appear one by one.  Somehow, summertime always flies by for me, and with the warm weather comes so many things to do and see.  I must admit, I have gotten a bit sidetracked and distracted, letting the entire month of July go by without a Grown In the Garden post!  With that being said, I am eager to share two summer adventure spots with you as well as some highlights from my own garden this year.

Part One: Monhegan Island, Maine.

I returned to the island this summer, eager to continue my exploration and artistic research on the island.  Upon departing on the Elizabeth Ann boat I anticipated returning to the same island that I had watched fade into the horizon a year ago.  The weather on the island last July was perfect, crisp, clear, and sunny almost every day.  I learned about the island in this way, not really considering what it might be like in...let us just say...for example...dense fog?

I arrived that day to the Monhegan that I knew.  A world of bright red poppies swaying in the wind and surreal, painterly sunsets over Monhegan's little sister island Manana.

My first day, I was eager to get out and locate all of the places that I had remembered...this time without getting lost.  As I followed the trails up and down the rocky shore line, I discovered all different kinds of plants growing in and out of rocks.  I began to notice patterns within these little ecosystems, like how far certain plants would grow towards the water, and which ones prefered specific parts of the island.  These patterns were beginning to teach me about the landscape, and island that I was now becoming a part of.

And then, the island that I thought I was beginning to know so well, suddenly transformed as if it had disappeared into the sea.

The fog was altering the way that I was seeing things, rolling in and out in such a haunting way.  The landscape became more mysterious and dramatic, as shapes and forms were revealed in ways that were not visible when the sun was shining.  The fog also began to highlight certain seemingly invisible occurrences that I might typically pass by.

And little Manana disappeared for at least 3 days.

Then....the fog lifted.

And everything was clear again.

 

I realize that I will never fully come to know everything that there is about this magical island, though I feel like I know it and myself a little better now.  I know now what it is like, to feel like an ant wandering up and down, in and though the landscape, winding my way in and out of pathways, learning the way by sense and nothing else. 

Please stay tuned for Part Two.