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.

Morris Arboretum--Philadelphia, PA

I recently ventured out to the Morris Arboretum, located outside of Philadelphia, PA.  I had heard about the garden for years but never had a chance to visit.  Like many of the gardens that I have been to, the Morris Arboretum has a rich cultural, horticultural, and architectural history.  Originally owned and developed by John and Lydia Morris as a summer home in the late 1800's, the property became part of the University of Pennsylvania in 1932.  The gardens offer an amazing research opportunity in the history of landscape architecture and design, and the arboretum website has wonderful archives with photos and paperwork on the history of the property.

Gardens are a form of a living history, with the ability to transport us back in time.  They are constantly changing and adapting, however they show that the vision and work of human beings can leave an imprint on the landscape.

The gardens here are very well cared for, and provide the perfect balance between historical and contemporary elements. 

The rose garden offered a colorful and painterly array of perenials paired with an English country style stone wall.  The plants that were growing out of the stone wall, softened the architectural details.  

Though much of the surrounding landscape had grown in, I was surprised to learn that this wall appeared almost the same way in the early 1900's archives.  

The garden in this are felt different than other gardens that I have visited.  There was a wild element to it, yet everything was deliberately placed, and well manicured.  This was the perfect time of year to visit with everything in full bloom, providing a variety of colors and textures at every vantage point.

As I continued on, I began noticing some of the more formal stone elements.  These established a striking contrast between the more natural growth within the flower beds, and the surrounding trees and shrubs.

There were also some interesting little botanical discoveries to be found.

And something that I have never seen in a garden before...A garden railway!  Model trains, on an elaborate system of tracks, traveled about in their own little worlds, up mountains, through covered bridges, around the Eiffel Tower, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  The movement of these little trains was mesmerizing as they traveled throughout landscape lined with Japanese Maple trees, Bleeding Hearts, and waterfalls, the sounds of railroad cars echoing from other areas of the garden.

Moving on from the little trains, I took a turn through a vine covered arch, and discovered a fountain which led me to the Pennock Flower Walk.
  

Walking up the hillside past the marble fountain and sundial, I was intrigued by what looked like an old terracotta wall nestled in a shady secluded spot.  This was once the spot of the summerhouse in the early 1900's and the area was described as the Italian Villa Garden.  There was a trickling stone fountain,  Italian style Urns, and a quiet spot to sit and gaze out at the striking view of the grounds.  This was where the landscape design truly became apparent.

 From that spot, I made my way to the swan pond, and English Park.  Surprise architectural elements could be discovered all around the expansive grounds each with its own unique character.

 Seven Arches, located at the edge of the garden, once pumped an elaborate system of water throughout the landscape.  Now, from on top of the arches, there is a striking view of the landscape, gardens, and very grown-in location where the original house once stood.

From here, as I walked back though the park, I encountered one of the many groundhogs that seem to have developed a commune on the property.  I think that this guy was suspicious of me.

I then made my way though a wooded area to the Key Fountain, and the Mercury Loggia and Grotto, both displaying a shadowy, quiet contrast to the light and open expanse of the English Park.

Finally, I made my way to the Victorian Fernery.  Built in 1899 this is the only freestanding fernery remaining in North America.  This was fascinating to learn about, as I have recently taken an interest in greenhouses and terrariums, and have been exploring the idea of caring for plants in constructed and controlled environments.  As a bonus, the building was beautifully constructed.

In addition to the historical details of the garden, there are also some fun and hidden gems to discover.

Like Giant Toads!

And a human sized Robin's nest high above in the tree canopy!