High Line

I just can't get the newly opened High Line out of my head after a stroll along the first section with a friend yesterday. I was entranced as I found myself a story or two above the Meatpacking and Chelsea neighborhoods among the artful interplay of modern design, urban decay, urban renewal, and natural plantings.

Railroad tracks are interspersed with grasses and perennials (like smoke bush and heucherra) befitting the origingal tracks and self-seeded landscape that emerged once the trains stopped running.




Lounge chairs befitting the neighborhood vibe.



Luxury developments going up, and parking lots below that seem destined for development in the next economic upswing.



There is something very magical about being there, with more to come.

Lush

While my son is sad to see the backhoes, forklift, mixer, and workmen leave Washington Square Park, the general consensus, which I share, is "hooray!". Never has a lawn in the park looked so lush.



















The relocated fountain is quite enticing, and the park gardeners seem to have used the opportunity to start fresh with new plantings which feature dense beds of a single plant such as hostas and salvia.















It was such a sunny day when I shot these photos, and I must admit that I'm hoping the sun is back to stay for while, even if I'll have to drag out the hose and water as a result.

Purple Haze

As I passed by today, I found the La Guardia Community Garden open and and strolled through the purple extravaganza. Iris galore. Spring allium. Moss phlox edging the path.



The purple haze so overwhelmed this fellow, that he choose to rest on a pile of wood mulch in Washington Square Park. Or so it seemed.

Leafy Greens

Are you getting yours? It seems like the trees leafed out overnight. Certainly has been plenty of rain to help them along.



All the gardeners I know have been tackling the back-breaking work of preparing for planting. Happily, my urban gardens require little in the way of hard labor this spring. That will come in August when I have to water every day. For now, I've been seeing what is popping back up from last year, and starting to fill in the gaps with purchases from the green market. The daffies in my window box are sadly no more, but some newly planted dahlias are settling in. On my back balcony, a very shady garden, ferns and hostas are back. One hosta was bursting out of the pot, so my mother and I split it in two and it seems much happier now.

Pretty in Pink

My street planter was in it's spring glory this past weekend as the heat brought all the tulips to full bloom. My aunt Cynthia and son Leo and I planted "angelique", "gander's rhapsody", and "blushing lady" last fall and I love the way the creams, pinks, and yellows looked together.

Sadly, the heat wave seems to have taken the tulips down quite quickly, and I've seen daffies and tulips fading fast all over the neighborhood. I love these blocks of tulips nestled under the flowering magnolias at the Bleecker St. NYU apartment complex.

Another brilliant Magnolia, and lovely spring day in Washington Square Park.

Daffodil time

I am aching to see the many patches of daffodils I've planted at my NH house. They are one of my top favorite flowers, and I love to pick different kinds. One year my niece Rachel helped me plant 50 pink ones, but I think I like the poeticus sort, like 'Actaea' ( named after one of King Solomon's concubines) and the double flowering, such as 'Cheerfulness,' (heirloom, 1923) best of all. Its scent is heaven. And don't miss the double, tousle-headed ones like 'Rip Van Winkle,' all yellow, double, almost like a dandelion.

A few weeks ago I bought 3 bunches of supermarket daffodils to take to friends. They were the standard trumpet yellow. At my friends', I asked them to guess where the daffs had grown. No one guessed; they were from England.

I have bought Irish daffs in supermarkets; it's amazing to think it's cost-effective.

My mother grew so many daffodils I used to joke that they could be seen from a jet flying from Boston to Paris. She encouraged picking, and so do I.

Daffy Down Dilly

Daffy down dilly

has come to town

In a yellow petticoat

And a green gown.

I have to admit I've succumb a bit too much to gloom about it being gray or cold more often that not. When I moved back east from San Francisco, I was shocked to find the spring I was expecting did not come until May (rather than in March). But, if you wait until May to be happy about spring, you'll find the flowering trees, profusion of bulbs, and forsythia have passed you by and the heat of summer coming in fast. So, here is the glory of mid-spring...