Travel notes: Colorado College Class of 1999 Reunion weekend, Colorado Springs, CO

This past weekend my 10-year college reunion allowed us the chance to blow this pop stand and head back to the mountains, to Colorado Springs, CO, home of The Colorado College. Checking the weather before our trip we read about the chance of rain and snow and low temps and packed accordingly. We arrived Friday afternoon to clouds slowly burning off the mountains and a relatively dry landscape so we thought maybe we got lucky. That night the skies clouded over again and coated the Springs in moisture. That moisture froze to ice, and stayed for the duration of the long weekend. But that didn't matter much. We were back in the glorious Rockies, at the base of Colorado's front range, and it felt good.
We wanted to be close to campus so we didn't have to rent a car. That would prove to be a smart move as Saturday alone there were way too many car accidents to count between the Springs and Denver, about an hour and a half to the north, all due to the unexpected ice storm. We stayed at the exclusive Club EL only a few blocks from my freshman year dorm. Friday night we met up with my junior and senior year roommate, Bob Pokorney, his girlfriend Jody Peterman, my other long time partner in crime McB Smith McManus, her husband John, and we decided to ease into the weekend with dinner at Phantom Canyon downtown. As we expected the food and microbrews was as excellent as we had remembered. Following that we would head over to Jack Quinn's to meet up with the rest of the class of 1999. So it wasn't until Saturday morning that I finally got to show my love around the old stomping ground. It was sensational to be on campus again and see that much of it was unchanged. The fall color was starting, the students still an interesting intellectual bunch, the natural beauty still very much there, even though covered by a heavy quilt of grey.
From my perspective as a horticulturist I was loving to see how the trees around campus had grown over the ten years.
I was thrown right back in time, remembering and visualizing the amazing classes and art installations, campus events and their leaders, fun characters, and free thinkers. It was just a shame the clouds wouldn't let up.

There were things like hardscaping changes but for the most part it was the same ol' CC we know and love. Places like Bemis Hall...
...and McGregor down on the lower portion of campus.
Of course Shove Chapel was still grand and spiritual and centering.
Shove Chapel has a side space where I was allowed to make on of my best art installations to date. It was a summer block about ancient Mesoamerican religions with David Carrasco, a genius visiting professor, and preseason for my senior project, a cultural ethnography of the history and ritual behind Los Dias de los Muertos, the Mexican Days of the Dead. For my final I created a sacred alter space. An indigenous alter of my own design intentionally perched within the societies idea of sacred and spiritual space it was an homage to how we all search for our own center of the world. I was never able to record it in any way (photo, video, etc.) which is a shame because it was a great marriage of rough elements creating formal ritual and beauty, complete with green bananas and broken radiators.

Tons of new landscaping all over campus looked great, like these grasses and shrubs where the stairs to Packard Hall used to be, one of Bob and my favorite skate sights those years ago. Today of course I preferred the sweeping plantings and big swaths of color and texture.
The courtyard at Packard Hall
It was definitely a little icy everywhere you went.
Pennisetum Popsicles anyone? (forgive me, I couldn't help the bad horticultural humor. ...humor?!?)
One of the best new additions to campus was the Cornerstone Arts Center across from Packard. I foolishly didn't get shots of the interior, but the facility and design of the space are no doubt huge and necessary improvements for the Art Department. Not to mention the venue for our Saturday cocktail hour before the classic CC Homecoming Dance on Armstrong Quad, both ridiculously fun affairs.
Of course no trip to Colorado College would be complete without a meal at Wooglin's Deli. Felis femina waiting for our breakfast sandwiches of egg, cheese, bacon, and croissant, in other words, heaven.
Then it was on to the bookstore with the ol' gang to get geared up in true Tigers fashion. ...well, that and another excuse to be totally silly and geeky with my dearest old and new friends.
GO TIGERS! Hahahahaha!!!

This is us chilling outside Worner Center, literally! Jody Peterman, Bob Pokorney ('99), McB Smith McManus ('99), John McManus, and Krissy Dunkle. And at the Saturday lunch we got to catch up with Renee Mackey ('97) and her adorable kids, Keenan (pictured here) and Sienna.

We also got to meet one of the newest and cutest of the next generation, Paul Wilson and Shea's little cutie, Otis.

L. to R.: Julia Nelson ('00), Paul Wilson ('99), Dana Stone Harris ('99), Bob Pokorney ('99), Jody Peterman, Megan McDowell ('00), and yours truly, Alex Feleppa ('99) with Renee's little Sienna Mackey there in front.
Paul and Mister Otis bundled and ready to dash to the next event.
Sunday the Springs quieted down a bit, or at least the lovely leftist little bubble I called home for four fabulous years. So we decided to take a Tejon stroll. You see, Tejon is the street that goes south to downtown C. Springs straight south from the center of CC campus. Freshman year I would take a Tejon stroll every night, a nice long walk by the mountains side to end the day and wind down before the next day's adventure.
It was the best to be able to share this weekend with my fiancee and introduce her to another part of Colorado. This Episcopalian church at the intersection of Monument I always liked.
...and it's statuary.
As you can see the plantings were still a bit frozen.

I especially loved the frozen annual Geranium.
We went on to Jose Muldoon's downtown in honor of our friend Custom who couldn't make it to the reunion this year. The margaritas were superb, the food delish, and the Broncos won in overtime. Our mini vacation was amazing. And to top it all off Pikes Peak finally decided to show it's face Monday morning before we had to head out and back to the northeast.

Well, maybe the adventure of trying to get home wasn't necessarily "amazing", what with the hydraulic leak, absense of crew, delays, missing luggage, and 15+ hours stuck inside various airports and planes. But in the end we did finally get home, safe and sound, and eager to figure out our next trip to the mountains. Hmmm, maybe honeymoon!?!?

In Bloom: fall blooming perennials

It is true, fall is finally upon us here in the northeast. But that is not to say that there are not still lots of fabulous things in bloom these days. Surely if you have taken a woodland walk recently you have spotted various Aster doing their thing. Out in the country where I grew up I am sure the fields are aglow with Solidago (golden rod) and Eupatorium, that tall white weed that us horticulturists know the moths and butterflies love this time of year. The buds on the perennial Chrysanthemum are about to burst, but maybe not for another couple weeks or more, reminding us that even when it is too cold for us to be out in the garden it is anything but inactive. Some of the plants in bloom this time of year really speak to me.
This is Anemone x hybrida 'Alba', commonly known as a white Japanese anemone.
A spectacular plant for sun to part shade the foliage usually only reaches about 3-4' tall but the flowers get up to 5' and seem to float in big glorious clusters above the autumn garden. If you allow the spent flower heads to remain on the plant and go to seed you will see they eventually open to disperse their seed in the form of little puff balls that get carried away. According to Flora they are hardy in USDA Zones 6-9, and in this day and age you can find various hybrids and cultivars in a variety of size and flower color.
I personally suggest you wait around long enough for a bee to come by and have a visit. They land and get busy as this little guy is doing above, but they quickly move around the flower sure to touch all the bright yellow-orange stamens before moving on to the next, going around in a perfect circle on each flower before moving on and repeating the motion for every flower in range. It reminds me of the old rotary telephones we had many years ago and that old visual and sound sensation of the face spinning around and around. Not to mention, not too bad a landing pad, huh?!?

When I was first getting started in horticulture I, like most, took each step one plant at a time and slowly over the years my plant palette evolved into the thousands of plants I know and love today. With that let me introduce you to one of my all-time favorite shade perennials, and one of the first plants I ever learned. This is Tricyrtis hirta, commonly known as hairy toad lily. No doubt it was it's unusual coloration and almost orchid-like appearance that attracted my novice eye. I am sure it has that affect on a lot of people as many friends and perfect strangers have stopped me and pulled out their iPhones hoping I can identify the wonder they have discovered.
Native to Japan hairy toad lily proves to be a fabulous garden or woodland plant for part shade to shade. The three foot stems are upright with a slight arch to them and the flowers form right up at the tips of the soft foliage. The foliage provides a nice coarse texture in the fall garden and the flower a subtle but sensational surprise so I can't help but think this is a pretty killer plant.
So, obviously our annuals are slowly but surely on the way out. And perhaps with all the rain and gray we had in June they didn't do as well as we would have hoped this year, but just the same they added extra shots of color and flower where we needed them for the summer months so we can't feel all that bad. We have all seen lots of different kinds of tropical begonias that use as houseplants or annuals, but I find that not very many people know about hardy begonia. Say hello to Begonia grandis.
Native to China and Japan, hardy in zones 6-9, and able to get to a couple feet high and wide, hardy begonia is a great plant option where you want a bit more showiness in your garden. The foliage is thick and fleshy like you would expect it to be and the light green leaves with tinges of red (nodes, venation) are themselves very poppy and contrasty. And then late summer in to the beginning of fall you get these great inflorescences of delicate pink male and female flowers.

And after the flowers pass their pollinated flowers transform into these great hanging clusters with pink, red, and yellow and persist to frost. Place it in your garden in sun to part shade and make sure it is kind of protected.

Platycodon grandiflorus in known as balloon flower. Also an Asian native, this member of the bellflower family (Campanulaceae) is hardy to USDA Zone 4, an upright plant that reaches 2' to 3' in full sun and maybe a couple feet in width. Not only is this a great garden flower because of it's 2" blossoms that persist through most of summer, but it also will have great fall color in a month or so before it dies back for this winter, a great combination of bright yellow and rich purple. The only thing you really need to know is that they need regular watering, some staking, and very regular dead-heading to keep going all summer long. But trust me, they can, so break out the needle-nose pruners and keep them close. It is easy to tell the spent flower from the buds, which you can see is where the plant gets it's name.


Lastly, for now, this is Actaea simplex 'Brunette', formerly known as Cimicifuga. Brunette cimicifuga is maybe not the most striking plant in the garden these days but with it's dark foliage and tall white spires it does hold up very well. But the best part of this plant I can't even begin to describe. If you are strolling in a garden some time soon and see this plant walk over to it instantly and without hesitation. Then sniff. The sweet smell of cimicifuga in the early fall is so good there is nothing like it.
The flowers are inflorescences, which to a novice gardener basically means that the each flower is not one flower, but actually a ton of tiny flowers next to each other in a specific arrangement to ultimately make up what most people call one flower. Here is a close up.

Actaea simplex 'Brunette' definitely gets to a healthy 3'-4' in height and width in sun to part shade in organic rich soil. The foliage tends to fade before the flower so it can get kind of bare looking, but provide me that amazing fragrance to work by for a cool breezy afternoon and I'll take a few brown leaves anytime.

speedy bear commute home

It's a Sunday during football season and I had to work, so you can imagine how I was hauling ass to get home in time for the Broncos vs. Cowboys kick off. And to top it all off I got screwed by an R train deciding to go express from Queens Plaza. That means that I then had to walk from that subway station up to the nearest N train at 39th Ave., a walk I am quite familiar with. But I had never seen the bear before. Not necessarily the kind of sign you expect to see on the face of a car and auto-body shop, right? Had to laugh and pause for a quick pic and slow down a bit. Great clouds above the platform at 39th Ave. once I got there...
Oh, and the Broncos win. Not a bad day. cheers,

Ray Spahn: 1952-2009

I just found out that the world lost an amazing horticulturist, artist, and gentleman today. My dear friend and mentor Ray Spahn passed away at his home on the eastern end of Long Island this evening after a long bought with cancer. He was only 57. I first met Ray when I began on my career path in horticulture at Marder's Nursery a little over ten years ago. Ray maintained the houseplants and tropicals in the massive barn Charlie and Kathleen had moved from PA to it's new home in Bridgehampton, NY. The structure was beautiful, but the ideal place to raise moisture and humidity loving specimens it was perhaps not. But Ray, a brilliant plantsman and caring soul, had this ability to grow the most tempermental tropicals and ornery orchids with grace and ease. It was his panache for plants that lured me in, made me want to have that same connection to the living world. He would quickly prove be one of the major players to infect me with the horticultural bug. Of course I have to laugh that my orchids and ferns will never look as healthy as his. When I would go on to manage a garden shop of my own one day I would think of Ray and try to maintain the same cool, calm collectedness while trying to keep the plants alive and appease the impatient New Yorkers all in one breath. I realized he really did have a gift. As I would get to know Ray over the years I would learn he was also a phenomenal painter and artist. Ray and his partner Stan invited a number of us from work to their home for a summer party and to this day I don't know if I have ever seen a home as beautiful. Everything was intentional, finely selected, full of character and culture and reflective of life lived well. The Australian tree fern took over the living room and took you to another place and time. In the kitchen Ray was experimenting with different epiphytes and miniature ferns mounted on verticle wall panels, years before anyone would hear of these things called "greenwalls" or Patrick Blanc. The huge canvases of seascapes you wanted to stare at for hours, just like the real thing. Through it all Ray would focus on the positive as much as he could and he truly lived life right, surrounded by life and love and friends and family and the richness of nature. As Dave C-K reminds me, even after being diagnosed Ray made the most of 7 or 8 more years before he passed away. He will be so missed but his unforgettable spirit will live on. Rest in peace dear friend.

Chances are you or someone you know has been affected by cancer. Please at some point in your life consider supporting cancer research/care/support. Whatever the donation, of money or time, it does make a big difference. Here are links to two of the many worthy causes out there:

The Lance Armstrong Foundation
&
East End Hospice

Saturday morning projectizing

I just unearthed about a hundred spring bloom pics I had completely forgotten about. Here is the flower of a Hyslop variety Malus floribunda, a Japanese crabapple. Supposedly these trees were raised on a farm up the Hudson and brought down the river in full bloom one spring before being planted at their permanent home within the Conservatory Garden in Central Park. Today the trees make up two formal allees that are spectacular in any season. The trees were supposedly planted at 10-years-old or thereabouts so today they are well into their 80's.

It's a cloudy fall day in New York City. The weather is mild today but with the early trees like the crabapples and the native flowering dogwood beginning to change color we are forced to acknowledge the passing of another season. And that is fine by me. This time of year is my favorite. Returning to jeans and hooded sweatshirts feels cozy and comfortable, the cute city girls don their foxy sweaters making us men do double-takes, and we celebrate the coming of cold with weekend walks in fallen leaves and football season. But alas, as we get older we can't help but once again ask the rhetorical question, "where does the time go?"
September was sensational yet a blink of the eye. I didn't get to take nearly enough photographs or enjoy ample free time to allow for blogging. You can probably relate. So today I am trying to attempt a little catching up. Looking back through my pictures I realize I am months and months behind updating the flickr account and the arborboy blog. My hopes are to get a number of new (old) posts up here soon but realistically I realize that could take a little while, a long while, forever, maybe never in fact. In any event, I encourage you to check out my flickr page and check out the hundreds of images I have been uploading. It is true, they date all the way back to April and therefore are perfectly outdated, but hey, maybe they will help put a fire under your ass to get out there and get some bulbs planted, to think about what worked in the garden this year, assess what didn't, make your notes on the year, update your maps before things die back completely, and enjoy putting your garden to sleep knowing spring is actually just around the corner. Here are a few tastes...

perennial Geranium

Magnolia x soulangiana is commonly called a saucer magnolia

Rhododendron 'Delaware Valley White' we know as a 'Delaware Valley White' azalea

pretty sure this is Spiraea nipponica 'Snowmound', a Snowmound Nippon spirea

and Wisteria floribunda, Japanese wisteria, so insanely aggressive but clearly so beautiful in early May.