Emergence: Mobile Botanical Garden Volunteering and Longleaf Pines

I've made it safely to Mobile, Alabama and I'm staying with my grandparents here for a few weeks. It is vastly different from Martha's Vineyard or North Carolina: the first day I was here it was hard to breathe because the air was so humid for winter! But, I've loved looking at the trees and seeing that the dominant pine is the longleaf, Pinus palustris (yes, it has needles and yes, needles are considered leaves). It is such a handsome tree and too rare a sight in my native Piedmont North Carolina. Obviously, it's one of my favorite trees.

The shining canopy of a longleaf pine, Pinus palustris. They really glisten in the mid-day sun. If you check out the photos, you'll notice I have a slight obsession with the little pine seedlings.

I decided since I was going to be here for a while that I would reach out to the local Mobile Botanical Garden to do some volunteering (please support your local botanical garden in time, participation and/or money!). I immediately got an email from the director welcoming me to come by anytime, so I went out there to check it out this morning as soon as I could.

It was breezy and a little cooler than it had been the last few days, but the sky was clear and the day was gorgeous. The longleaf pine forest welcomed me along Museum Drive and I was so excited to be there as soon as I got out of my car.

Taiwan cherry in the Rhododendron Garden circle.

I briefly walked through the Millie McConnell Rhododendron Garden, taking in the mauve Prunus campanulata. Taiwan Cherry, blooming in the center and dreaming of the spring when the azaleas (actually Rhododendron cultivars) put on a show. There were even a few early blooms on the azaleas. If you ever get to visit Mobile in March or April, dear reader, please check out the garden and its spectacular collection of the many groups of azaleas. This is one of the most comprehensive azalea collections that showcases the Deep South's azalea breeding heritage.

It would have been a shame to skip over the Kosaku Sawada WinterGarden, where I knew I would see the wonderful diversity of Camellia cultivars blooming. Even on the second of February most of them were blooming heavily in all shades of white, pink and red, and in all sizes, from quarter-sized to almost six inches wide. Being on the Vineyard really taught me an appreciation for these wonderful plants, despite how common they can be in the landscape.

Camellia japonica 'Kitty'

After my quick jaunt on the grounds, I went to check in about volunteering. It looks like I came at the right time and I can't wait to get to work tomorrow! (Update, 2/3/15: six hours of pruning work and the azalea garden looks great!)

After my meeting, I finally had the time to walk through the Longleaf Pine Forest. Although it's been in existence since the 50's when the pond nearby was used as Mobile's water source, I've never had the opportunity to see it during my brief trips to the garden. Robin suggested I get the worm's eye view of the forest floor because this year was the heaviest seed cast in recent history. She was not exaggerating! Tiny seedlings, their cotyledons unfurling from their tan seed coats like octopi, carpeted the ground, coming up among pine needles, grasses, goldenrods (Solidago ssp.) and everything else in between. Longleafs in the grass and rocket stage were everywhere as well. The whole walk was like traveling to a different world for a moment.

Pinus palustris seedling.

Please do take a moment to appreciate this very sobering fact: prior to European settlement the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service estimates there was almost 90 million acres of longleaf pine forest stands. Today, there is only a little more than 500,000 acres. It may not be a rainforest, but the Southeastern United States is the only place in the world where the longleaf pine savanna ever existed. Please check out the Longleaf Partnership Council's website for more information.

Adventures in the Polly Mobile 2: Morning at the Botanic Garden at Smith College (before driving to Delaware!)

That's right, folks: Western Massachusetts to Delaware.

Into the belly of the beast....or at least the pitcher of a Nepenthes truncata.

(Click above for photos)

But since I'd only been able to walk by all of the botanical treasures at the Lyman Conservatory at Smith College yesterday, I made sure I was up, packed and out the door early the next morning so I could be there when they opened the doors. I think I surprised the visitor center volunteer when I came in so early, as I'm sure a visit to the conservatory isn't most people's idea of the first thing to do on a dreary Saturday morning.

A view into "the Jungle Room" at Smith College.

I made myself at home though, hanging up my coats in the hallway, and immediately delved into the collections, taking my time to savor each detail of each plant. I read tag upon tag, quizzed myself and took hundreds of pictures. It was a great moment of reflection to think back on what I'd seen at other conservatories I'd visited before. I knew I needed to be on the road, but there was so much to see. Each room seemed to hold a thousand more treasures.

But, I knew I was pushing into my long drive to Wilmington, DE, and I eventually had to tear myself away from the succulent house.

In an effort to avoid New York, New Jersey and I-95, in general, I charted my own path down 84, through the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area, and some beautiful mountain areas. Sadly, I could only imagine what beautiful scenery I was passing through, as the low clouds hid most of it.

The weather had not improved during my warm explorations inside. There was a steady drizzle and the shade of the cold, grey of the morning had been passed on to the afternoon. The frustrating roads of Massachusetts gave way to the slightly more sane ones of Connecticut, though I have to say I knew I was in Yankee-land driving through the scary narrow ways of Hartford. Once I was out of the city though, the traffic disappeared and landscape opened up and became more mountainous. I almost forgot I was in Connecticut and I wished so badly to be able to see through the thick blankets of clouds. I could tell there were more hills and mountains, especially in New York and Pennsylvania (which PM2 made me painfully aware of), and the flora shifted, sometimes more natives and sometimes more invasives.

By the time I got past Bethlehem though, it started getting dark. The traffic dramatically picked up and I found myself surrounded by urban sprawl. I quickly found myself eager to be in Delaware. And then my GPS died an hour or so later....eagerness turned to panic.

But, I made it, almost eight hours after leaving Smith College, and Barb and Phil were waiting to welcome me to their home. Whew, what a day!

Man of a Thousand Garden Stories: The Garden of Charles Cresson

I have to say I was slightly ashamed that I'd never heard of Charles Cresson before our trip to Swarthmore College this summer. Google his name and see what I mean. But, I'm not one to turn down a garden tour, so when Tom said Charles Cresson had invited us for an evening tour of his garden after the Woody Plant Conference, I was ready to go.

We followed the native Swarthmorian to his house through the tight neighborhood streets and parked in front of what one would assume was just another house in the neighborhood, save for the 12-foot deer fence. What was going to be a quick tour easily continued into the twilight hours of the night with rich, personal stories of almost every plant in the garden, especially his prized Camellias and Hydrangeas. There was more to Mr. Cresson's garden than one could see from any point and he lead us on a very winding, but deliberate, path by new beds where prized old trees from his grandfather's days had fallen, his back porch, vegetable garden, bonsai collection, diverse perennial/annual borders, and meadow by his creek, just to name a handful of nooks and crannies we found ourselves in.

On our way back to Martha's Vineyard I found myself scribbling down every moment I could remember so that I could hold the experience in my mind. Such a wealth of knowledge. I felt like I'd met a true American gardener.