Our local heat wave has broken, with a promised “chance of showers” today and tomorrow, the “risk of thunderstorms” this afternoon. Enough “local smoke” to trigger an Air Quality Warning (wildfire on the outskirts of the city and a huge blaze on a barge full of crushed cars in the Fraser River at Surrey, in the heart of Metro Vancouver). . . . Sustained rainfall would be too much to hope for, I know (and probably disappoint the organizers of today’s Main Street Party celebrating the Vancouver Mural Festival) — but we really need a good Shampoo-Rinse-Repeat before we get back to the all-sunshine-all-day that’s predicted for next week. . . .
I’ll admit that I’ve been spending the hottest hours each day in the bedroom where we’ve installed a small portable air-conditioning unit. But I love my garden oasis in the morning and then again in the evening after the sun’s dipped low enough for cooling to begin. . .
And I realize I haven’t shared much about the garden’s progress this summer, so I thought an update might be in order. Today’s won’t be at all comprehensive, but I’ll try to get ’round to the various corners over the next week or two, and I’ll happily answer any questions about this condo terrace container-gardening — from my limited experience.
Above and below, the Snowberry Bush (Symphoricarpus Albus) which — to be honest — we were surprised to identify among the plants left behind by the previous owners. Surprised because we tend to think of it as a woodland plant; I’d never buy and plant a specimen numerous snowberry shrubs grew, let’s say “independently,” in the “wild” part of our old seaside garden.
In that setting, it didn’t matter if the bushes dried out in a period of drought — they were under a canopy of fir and alder trees that protected them from direct sunlight and their roots could search out whatever moisture and nutrients might be available. In the container on the terrace, they’ve been much more exposed to sun and wind, and our extended absence in the spring means they’ve dried out to the point of damage more than once (despite the best intentions of our surrogate gardeners, who are also on a learning curve, and who are volunteers 😉
Spring 2017, we came home from our travels to find this plant (and both the maples) was seriously wind-and-sun-burned, so chopped it back quite severely. It recovered nicely, was putting out some vigorous, healthy green foliage before we went away this May — and then showed the same damage when we returned at the end of June.
Here’s the funny thing: It’s never been a plant I’d have thought of as high-maintenance, mostly, I suppose, because it just did its thing in the wild part of the garden and because I never minded it looking scrubby in the woodland. As well, as I said, it’s never been a plant I’d choose to feature — so many other choices I’d make for a specimen container plant. But I suppose I’m a bit sentimental, and I like having the reminder of those twenty-some years living alongside indigenous plants (and wildlife, all in a natural setting).
As well, the berries that festoon a healthy Snowberry Bush draw birds — and before that, as we’re noticing right now, the flowers seduce legions of bees, animating the terrace. . . . You might be able to spot one of those working visitors in the second photo from the top. . .
And they’re such a dainty flower, the leaves such a distinct, notched shape . . . that we’re giving the Symphoricarpus Albus one more chance. . .
Quickly, now, so that you can see why we’re considering banishing the Snowberry from our terrace forever. . . proof of its scrubbiness. . . . yep, it’s embarrassing, but we’ll tune in next year, and see if the rehabilitation works. Such is the gardener’s timeline, after all. . . (the hosta to the left of the Snowberry is in a pathetic state as well — it’s a recent addition, still settling in. . .)
I had hoped to take you on a quick swoop around the garden, but having been waylaid by that Snowberry Bush, we seem to have run out of time.
Still, I don’t want you to leave with that rather sad image of “the snowberry corner,” so here’s a peek in another direction — and perhaps I’ll tell you more about that part of the garden on a future visit. Note the apples on the tree — and do you see the figs?! The Corylopsis Spicata was probably an error for such a limited space, but I can’t regret choosing its gorgeously pleated golden leaves nor the shade it provides for the hardy fuchsias. . . And do you see that dappled shade? One of the elements I love most in my garden here is the shadows of flower and foliage, and the quality of light as it changes during the day and as it interacts with the different shades of green. . .
But really, time to go — oh, just a quick peek under the leaves here at the salad garden — the cherry tomatoes have been as prolific as last year, and we harvested an abundance of Swiss chard, but the cucumbers are a particular delight right now, the plant bought too late in the season, desperate for a home in a bigger pot. . . and grateful enough to reward us without delay. . .
Okay, I’m off now, but feel free to leave a comment, a question, or your welcome advice, about my Condo Terrace Garden. . .
Wow! Your garden is spectacular!
Kudos to you for all your hard work…its really impressive.
I'm tickled that you would say that, L, given how wonderful your garden is — thank you!
It still looks lovely, and refreshing.
It is refreshing, thank you — up until about 2:30 on a sunny day, that is 😉
You have a forest in the city!
or jungle! 😉
I think this looks gorgeous. And the snowberry doesn't look ratty right now, to me, but then I'm in California with a shade garden toasted like 'smores. I love the colors, the rose and green hues.
Thanks! Lots of toasting been going on here as well, but not quite like California…
I’ve never been a great snowberry fanatic until recently. If you can tame it I’d keep it. The bees and butterflies that it draws is huge. My specimen is certainly staying. The rest of your garden is looking magnificent. B x
This is just what I'm thinking, having taken it for granted as a multi-volunteer for so many years. I think by next year we'll have it in shape and can then let it gain a bit of height. The bees and butterflies do like it — and when it was thicker and taller, it gave the birds a place to tuck themselves away.
Looks lovely to me, Frances. Hope you get your rain. We had buckets of rain and then the heat broke. And yesterday, I had to put on long pants to sit with my tea and book in the shade on the deck. It was 24° and so refreshing after all out humidity. Just waiting impatiently to be able to do all the walking and cycling that I'm longing for. I said to Stu yesterday, it was "start thinking of lesson plan" weather, but better. Sorry to have not commented in ages. I've kind of been missing in action except for on my own blog.
No buckets here, unfortunately, and I think we've had our sprinkle for the month. It does seem that we'll be cooler now, although still sunny, about 24 all next week. My sister and her partner have just been evacuated from there place in northern BC, in the path of a huge forest fire, so I guess I'll take what I've got!
Don't you dare apologize — just get yourself better! xo
Your garden is magical indeed-such a green oasis on the terace. I'm imaging all the people carrying all the soil for the flower and tree beds……
I like the "symphonical" 🙂 plant-we call it "white pearl"-imagine those pearl white berries branches,together with ilex red ones for Christmas….
And the salad garden-unbelievable!
Hope that your sunny weather,after the rain,would be nice and cozy
Dottoressa
Thanks, Dottoressa — White pearl is a very good name for it — and I've used branches of the berries together with ilex's red berries when I could snip them both for free in my old garden. The florist prices make me see what I took for granted!
I think it looks wonderful! I hope you get some rain soon.
Thanks! As I said to Susan Burpee, we only got a sprinkle, but at least we don't have a wildfire at our back door, as my sister does. . .
I never knew (before today) that Snowberries are not native to this continent but were imported from the Americas. For me, they carry childhood memories. There were many bushes in a park which I passed on my way to school, and in autumn and winter we used to drop berries on the path and step on them, enjoying the popping sound. (They are also known by the colloquial name of "popping berries".)I did not know that the flowers are so attractive to insects. Will be more attentive in the future.
I'm so interested in these connections we have with plants from childhood onward, in different places, and I wonder which ones my grandchildren will carry forward to remember 60 or so years from now.
This is all rather splendid. We have had such odd weather this year that it has taken a strange toll on my little patio garden. Pouring with rain now after weeks of unrelenting heat so things are springing back to life. Some plants have loved it, others gone into a sulk. Next year, I am binning the idea of bursts of summer colour and going for all green – a leafy, wavy, grassy haven that won't be eaten by aphids. Two new acers are settling in beautifully and beginning to turn a deep red. I do love the idea of a hidden paradise like yours. And mine, next year.
Yes, we've had "odd weather" both summers we've been here — last year's broke rain records for one month and heat/drought for the next two! And this May was the driest on record (official record-keeping began in 1937, apparently). I think your idea of focusing on greenery is lovely — if you can keep up with the watering (perhaps you'll capture your "grey water" for that?). I'm going to persist with summer flowers, though, because that's what draws the bees and birds and butterflies (and, yes, the aphids!)
A lovely green haven in the city. It will take time to get attuned to patio gardening, and then you'll find your 'touch'. I chafed against having a shady city patio for a while and then suddenly I found myself in tune with it – ferns, white busy lizzies, mind-your-own-business, climbing jasmine, fuchsias – and now I'm looking nonplussed at my large expanse of sunny, windy country garden and not quite knowing what to do with it! I envy you your hosta- are you a snail and slug free zone in your location?
Yes, we're figuring it out, bit by bit. . .
Curious: could you get the jasmine to overwinter? Any time I've grown it here, we end up having one of our colder spells in the window and I lose it. . . I meant to add one to the terrace this year, but it hasn't happened, so I think I'll wait until next spring.
There are legions and legions of slugs and snails here, but it helps being up on the roof! 😉 Although I had one plop down from some balcony garden above several weeks ago — surprised both of us, I'm sure, but his surprise didn't last long (nor did he!) (and yes, we're on the roof, and there are balconies above us — the terrace is above a central part of the building between two taller sections…
Re the jasmine. Mine, which was doing very little indeed through May and June, got a sound talking to (I mentioned the word pruning) and it leapt to life. We had an incredibly cold winter here this year and miserable spring and it had no effect on it whatsoever – very hardy. It is trachelospermum jasminoides, rather leggy and woody but flowers beautifully with an astounding fragrance, morning and evening.
Excellent news, thank you! I’m motivated to try again…
nohatnogloves has done my work for me – exactly what I was going to write! Will just add – mine gets max an hour of sun in the morning and then is in shade. I pruned too far back the previous year and had one flower, so this year left it rather longer and it has rewarded with cascades of flowers. Depending on the wind factor you may need to tie in leggier strands over the winter. But yes, keep going with it.
Your seventh photo reminds me of a little garden pathway. Pretty nice to accomplish that feat on a patio.
It's true, it does have that effect. I love it and I'm pleased you noticed it — we had some lovely wandering paths in our old garden that evolved out of patterns observed our first few years there and then got hardscaped in. . . I was so fond of those. . .
Looking at your photos, I can feel and smell your garden. We are also virtually restricted to container gardening, and it is such a pleasure to appreciate how beautifully yours has established its own lovely balance and give-and-take.