Part of what makes this garden space and path wonderful is the lavender spikes of  mint that have been flowering abundantly all summer long.  See them at the bottom of the photo. The white flowering  oregano spills onto to fieldstone step (out of view) so that I brush past them and release their fragrance with each descent.  The plants aren’t as splashy as the ligularia blooming orange in the hosta garden beyond, but they definitely frame the scene.  Easy to pull out when the plants travel into areas I don’t want them in, they provide a lovely abundance while the pollinators they attract help our environment.

The yellow’s the long flowering Gaillardia ‘Lemons and Oranges’ and the Allium is a August blooming ornamental onion.  The variety’s a mystery to me.  I tried to identify it on the web, but the photos chiefly display the round flower head without reference to scale. Reading text descriptions on other websites, I’m at a loss for this plant’s identity.  Not to be confused with spring herb chives or the fall white garlic chives.  Same family, but different. Meanwhile, the late August garden interest is mainly carried foliage and form–except for a daylily, hosta, astilbe, roses, geranium, daisy, ligularia, hydrangea,and a few herbs–this combination wins the title of “Star” and I’ve placed it where I see it coming and going.

While Willie was singin’ ’bout ‘being on the road again’, was he having wine in the late afternoon in Boothbay Harbor? Probably not, I’m glad I could watch the early August sky and the water slow dancing over the hours. The deck’s railing felt like being on the bow of a ship and just as relaxing.

Perhaps this photo expresses the genius locii of the Coastal Maine Botanical Garden’scultivated landscape. It features interwoven masses of perennials embracing the immense ‘erratic boulder’. The outcropping  reminds me of Uluru  or Ayer’s Rock in Australia–not anywhere as large, of course, but with the same slumbering sentience that some large stone masses exude.  It also features the open blue summer sky  framed by tree and pergola.  The human landscape choices dance with the site’s existing features of stone and sky. The well chosen design and it’s sensitive implementation make the CMBG a treasure well worth traveling to.

P.S. Genius locii, Latin, translates as the ’spirit of the place’.

Exploring the Coastal Maine Botanical Garden in Boothbay, ME found me on a narrow path deep in the woods.  Perhaps this photo reveals the essence of the wild part of CMBG?

Last post, I was wondering how the Ligularia d. ‘Othello” would open to full flower.  Away for a few days, camera in hand, I went to check it out. Lo and behold! An unexpected visitor!  Unexpected because it’s a new plant in my garden planted for its leaf shape, dark stems, leaf color, and shocking orange brilliance in the shade garden. I hadn’t ‘connected the dots’ to realize that Ligularia attracts butterflies. But, of course, it’s a ‘daisy-shape’ –the favorite form for them.

So a few moments of wonder and multiple photographs later, we can see ‘Othello’s’ form and it’s lovely visitor.  Of course, I could have googled the plant to get the same information, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun as visiting the garden–watching the unfolding, listening to the rustle of foliage, inhaling the fragrance of nearby clethra and daphne, and encountering the joyful butterfly and watching it intently gather nectar from each of the daisy- like flowers. I did try to identify the butterfly, but no luck ‘googling’ that one!

I planted the ligularia (L. dentata ‘Othello’) because of its wonderful  heart leaf shape and purplish greenish coloration (more purple in spring–more green in summer).  It gives contrast and texture midst the hostas.  I’d seen it in flower in other gardens, but never watched the flower unfolding. 

 See the pod-like shape in the lower part of the photo?  That encases the bud  (and maybe technically is part of  it ).  Anyway, it opens to reveal the tight round bud.  See it with the yellow peaking out?  Then, the first of the flowers opens.  If you look closely you’ll see other flowers underneath. I’ll have to watch to see if all open and come forward together to make a huge yellow mass or if each waits til the one opens and goes by before taking it’s place on center stage.

This kind of revelation doesn’t happen causally.  From a distance you perceive color and form, but it’s up close that you find this kind of  magic.  I discovered this remarkable flowering while I was dead-heading a near-by hosta. Since then I’ve been visiting daily to see what happens next. Small entertainment, but something special and magical just entered my life.