Some people are known as “glass half full” folks and some drift towards the “glass half empty” side. Personally, I’m a “Whoops! I’m sorry I just spilled that half glass of red wine all over your white lace tablecloth” kind of guy.
I know that many gardeners look at the coming year with anticipation. By January, the unspeakable, unending string of horticultural tragedies of the previous season have been relegated to the compost pile of history, figuratively and literally. (Or is that just my experience?) They view the world – which is pretty much limited to their patios, backyards and all-season deck chairs – with fresh eyes, convinced that this is the year that the porcelain berry vine that strangled their prize affenpinscher will be vanquished, that the heptacodium tree, which died under mysterious circumstances five years ago and which now resembles a hat rack for squirrels, will finally be removed (if only by a wind storm), and that the drainage issues that had them considering creating a rice paddy by the recycling bin will miraculously be alleviated by a climate-change-induced drought that begins in April and lasts through, oh, 2023.
By the time you get to this page (that is to say, if you’ve read all or most of this magazine), your brain is so crammed with …
There are a few cyclical events in my life that I look forward to: the first lazy snowflakes, the emergence of a small ...
Container gardening is so enjoyable because of its possibilities for creative expression.
One of the great things about being a columnist is that when you run out of ideas you can steal them from other people.
A comical plant identification flow chart from our columnist, Mike Nowak.