“It was November — the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.”
~L. M. Montgomery (Canadian author; 1874 – 1942)
Shared by Betty Hanselman
Gardener’s wife (& wind-song reveler)
Author Archive: Betty Hanselman
A Tree-Mendous Time For Trees
One of our great joys as a company has been to grow and develop stellar specimen Japanese Maples and Pines in our nursery. But it is even more rewarding when clients come from near and far to view these beautiful trees for themselves and, recognizing their worth, select one or more for their own gardens.
A few weeks ago, members of our team dug, wrapped, and boxed a gorgeous Dancing Peacock Japanese Maple and a Japanese Red Pine for delivery to New York. At roughly the same time, ten or twelve of our specimen Pines were also being prepared for delivery to gardens closer to home–from Bryn Mawr, near Philadelphia, to north of Hazleton.
By now, these lovely trees we have nurtured for years will be settling into new soil and bringing delight and beauty to the gardens and lives of our clients. What an honor to be a part of spreading garden joy in this way!
Joyfully shared by Betty Hanselman
Gardener’s wife (& grateful “garden joy” spreader)
Bright November Day
“We seldom think of November in terms of beauty or any other specially satisfying tribute. November is simply that interval between colorful October and dark December. Then, nearly every year, come a few November days of clear, crisp weather that make one wonder why November seldom gets its due.
There is the November sky, clean of summer dust, blown clear this day of the urban smog that so often hazes autumn…
There is the touch of November air, chill enough to have a slight tang, like properly aged cider. Not air that caresses, nor yet air that nips. Air that makes one breathe deeply and think of spring water and walk briskly.”
~Hal Borland (American writer and naturalist; 1900 – 1978)
Gladly shared by Betty Hanselman
Gardener’s wife
Garden Bucket List (Part 3)
Following our visit to the Rhododendron Species Botanical Garden, James and I headed to another garden on his bucket list, the Seattle Japanese garden. This beautiful garden was born of an idea that first originated in the early 1900s after the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific expo sparked an interest in Japanese gardens. However, it was not until 1960, 50 years (and two world wars) later, that the project actually took root, under the creative oversight of Japanese landscape gardener, Juuki Iida.
The garden, designed as a stroll garden around a central pond, now graces 3.5 acres in the Washington Arboretum, providing serenity and sanctuary for visitors of all ages and ethnicities. Winding gravel paths and stone benches invite garden visitors to view the garden slowly, taking in the beauty of its natural elements – water, plants, rocks and birdlife – and the manmade structures – bridges, lanterns and a Japanese tea house.
Of special interest to James was the 110-year-old Japanese Black Pine at the north end of the garden. Years ago, he had read about it and was keen to view it in person; we headed there first. This beautiful, gnarled ancient was originally nurtured by Masagoro Yamasaki and his son Richard, before being donated and transplanted to the Seattle Japanese Garden in 1993. Lovingly named the Yamasaki Pine, it stands as a symbol of resilience, longevity and cultural heritage, and continues to be carefully maintained with traditional Japanese pruning techniques.
Respectfully submitted by Betty Hanselman
Gardener’s wife (with gratitude for this garden gift)
October Is…
“October is the fallen leaf, but it is also a wider horizon more clearly seen. It is the distant hills once more in sight, and the enduring constellations above them once again.”
~ Hal Borland (American author and naturalist; 1900 – 1978)
The Falling Leaves
“But in October what a feast to the eye our woods and groves present! The whole body of the air seems enriched by their calm, slow radiance. They are giving back the light they have been absorbing from the sun all summer.”
~John Burroughs (American naturalist, conservationist, and essayist; 1837–1921),
Joyfully shared by Betty Hanselman
Gardener’s wife (& awed by autumn)
