The Chicago Botanic Garden

The Chicago Botanic Garden is actually in Glenco, Illinois, but it would be nitpicky to insist that it be called the Greater Chicago Botanic Garden, or even the Chicagoland Botanic Garden, though that has a ring to it. Glenco is a northern suburb, as far north as you can get in Cook County. The road that leads to the garden’s entrance is in fact Lake-Cook Road, more or less the border between Lake and Cook counties.

All of the gardens’ 385 acres are south of that road, and are property of the Forest Preserve District of Cook County (just like Bachelor’s Grove Cemetery, but far away geographically and otherwise). On Saturday, Yuriko and I went to the garden because we’ve long been fond of it, because it was a warm, pleasant day, and because we couldn’t remember the last time we went. So long ago, I think, that we pushed Ann around in a stroller (later than 2004, maybe, but not much). This time Ann stayed home.

It’s a large garden, offering a multitude of plants in a variety of settings, including 27 display gardens, such as the Crescent Garden.

And the three-acre Rose Garden, whose flowers surround a popular lawn.
Chicago Botanic Garden - Rose Garden“The Rose Garden — one of the most popular spots at the Chicago Botanic Garden — also gives context and history to the storied flowers, while celebrating the best among them,” the garden’s web site asserts. “Consider the old garden roses (also called antique or heirloom roses), which were cultivated before 1867… The History of Roses Bed, which tracks the development of the rose from the earliest wild rose to the modern hybrids, also provides context. And, for inspiration, the Rose Garden features All-America Rose Selections winners, along with the best rose varieties for Midwest gardens.”

Is 1867 particularly important in the history of roses? Turns out it is. Again, I quote from the Chicago Botanic Garden, which has a brief history of roses on its site. “To bring order to the wild world of roses, the American Rose Society has classified all roses into two major categories: old garden roses (sometimes called antique or heirloom roses) and modern roses. The old roses are those that were cultivated in distinct classes prior to 1867, and the modern roses are those that followed. The year 1867 is an important one in rose history, since it marks the debut of the hybrid tea rose.” Ah. Just another thing we inherited from the corybantic 19th century.

Among the many blooms evident even in September at the Chicago Botanic Garden:

Bourbon RoseRosa Champlain
Chicago Botanic Garden - Rose GardenAnd one of those thoroughly modern hybrid tea roses (Rosa Medallion) Chicago Botanic Gardens - Rose GardenElsewhere in the garden is the shady Waterfall Garden, whose centerpiece is a 45-foot cascade.
Chicago Botanic Garden - Waterfall GardenThe Japanese Garden could stand alone as a destination. Part of it is an inaccessible island (at least to casual visitors) called Horaijima, or the Island of Everlasting Happiness. It’s fitting that no one can go there.
Chicago Botanic Garden - Japanese GardenAnother part of the Japanese Garden includes a Shoin (書院) House, patterned after the studies of priests and scholars, with antecedents as far back as the Muromachi era (ca. 1336 to 1573), though this particular house was finished in 1982.
Chicago Botanic Garden - Japanese GardenAmong many other plants, the Evening Island sports enormous grass.

Chicago Botanic Garden - Evening Island“Evening Island is an example of the New American Garden style of landscape design, which features vast naturalistic sweeps of low-maintenance grasses, perennials, and roses to create a living tapestry,” the garden says. “The garden is sited, appropriately, between the formality of the English Walled Garden and the wildness of the native Prairie.”

The English Walled Garden was the site of a wedding on the afternoon of September 3, so it was closed to other visitors. I remember that it’s a lovely place, though.

We wandered through a number of other sites at the garden as well, such as the Sensory Garden, Spider Island, the Circle Garden, and bonsai collection and the greenhouses. We didn’t see many other places. It’s like a major art museum in that way: too much for any single visit.

I did start taking notes of some of the plant names that interested me. With a digital camera and a lot of signs identifying plants, that was easy. Some examples of common names, not scientific names, just to keep things simpler: Siberian Bugloss, Virginia Waterleaf, Mountain Bluet, Columbine Meadowrue, Southern Blue Monkshood, Fairy Bells, Chocolate Dragon Smartweed [sounds like something you can buy in a shop in Seattle], Black Adder Hyssop, Cranberry Cotoneaster, Venice Masterwort, Purple Rain Jacob’s Ladder, Floss Flower, and Art Deco Zinnia.

I have to publish a picture of that last one.

Chicago Botanic Garden - Art Deco ZenniaWish I had a memory for plant names and characteristics.

Spring Valley, June ’16

We went to Spring Valley on the afternoon of June 10 to look for the peonies, but we were a little late. Not sure why they’d bloom earlier this year than two years ago around June 10. This year’s been rainy too. Natural variation in timing, I guess. But some were still in flower.

Spring Valley, June 2016Even so, Spring Valley’s usually a good walk, even in very warm temps. Just take some water and avail yourself of shade when you can.

There weren’t as many lily pads on the major pond as in previous years, either. Mostly pond scum. Which is probably an underappreciated and misunderstood part of the eco-system and health of the pond, etc, etc. But if you look closely at the surface of the water…
Spring Valley, June 2016You’ll notice a frog, partly submerged, belly up.
Srping Valley June 2016Waiting for hapless insects to come to close, probably. Unfortunately, says Susan Paskewitz of the University of Wisconsin, “adult frogs eat a variety of things but there is no evidence that mosquitoes are an important part of the adult diet of any species.”

Also, according to Professor Paskewitz: bats are overrated as agents of mosquito control. Too bad.

South Texas Flora, Early March

While walking along in Fredricksburg, Texas, on March 4, 2016, I noticed bluebonnets beginning to bloom. Not a sweeping field of bluebonnets, as you see in Hill Country paintings, or occasionally in person, but those emerging from a small green patch ‘tween concrete and asphalt. It was a pleasure to see them all the same.

Up in Illinois, I did see a handful of croci beginning to push out of the earth before I left. But nothing like the early spring flowers of Texas. Such as those emerging from rocky ground.

Or on bushes.

And trees.

Plus the glories of irises, always a favorite, wherever they grow.

What’s the matter,
That this distemper’d messenger of wet,
The many-colour’d Iris, rounds thine eye?

Lan Su Chinese Garden

At the Lan Su Chinese Garden in Portland, I wondered: How true to the original connotations are the inevitably flowery translations of some Chinese phrases into English? Put into English, various parts of the garden come out as “Tower of Cosmic Reflections,” ‘Flowers Bathing in Spring Rain,” and “Knowing the Fish Pavilion.”

I’ll never have an answer to that. Maybe that’s because the “original connotations” would cover a wide range of meaning, even among native speakers of whatever Chinese dialect is represented. Never mind. Lan Su’s a beautiful place.

Lan Su Chinese Garden, Aug 2015According to the garden’s web site, it’s “a result of a collaboration between the cities of Portland and Suzhou, our sister city in China’s Jiangsu province that’s famous for its beautiful Ming Dynasty gardens. Lan Su was built by Chinese artisans from our [sic] Suzhou and is the most authentic Chinese garden outside of China.”

Quite a claim. But I was intrigued that the garden was patterned after ones in Suzhou. I’ve seen some of those gardens. Now I’ve seen this one.

Lan SuLan SuThe web site again: “The garden’s name represents this relationship: sounds from both Portland and Suzhou are combined to form Lan Su. Lan (蘭) is also the Chinese word for Orchid and Su (蘇) is the word for Arise or Awaken, so the garden’s name can also be interpreted poetically as ‘Garden of Awakening Orchids.’ (蘭蘇園).” More of that flowery translation again. In this case, literally flowery.

Lan SuLan SuSomething about the place brings out the flowery, even in English. From Travel Portland: “Since the garden’s opening in 2000, its covered walkways, bridges, open colonnades, pavilions and richly planted landscape framing the man-made Zither Lake have created an urban oasis of tranquil beauty and harmony. It’s an inspiring, serene setting for meditation, quiet thought and tea served at The Tao of Tea in the Tower of Cosmic Reflections, as well as public tours of the grounds led by expert horticulturalists.”

Zither Lake? After the class of stringed instruments? Anyway, this is it, complete with the reflections of surrounding buildings. Lan Su takes up a city block, but it is still only one block among other city blocks.
Zither LakeWhat I remember best from Suzhou were the rocks, and Lan Su has those too.
Lan SuLan SuThe place also inspires romance. I saw a group of people planning a wedding at the garden, a couple necking among the greenery, and more than one person exercising a bit of self-love by taking selfies.

July Back Yard Flowers &c.

Time for a summer interlude. Back to posting around July 19.

What this country needs is another summer holiday, sometime between Independence Day and Labor Day, and I nominate July 20, to honor the Moon landing. Or the fourth Monday in July, since the 20th is a little close to July 4 — a  Monday holiday to honor the astronauts’ return on July 24, recalling the bit about “returning safely to the Earth,” since the lunar mission wouldn’t have been complete without that.

To keep the accounting snits happy (we can’t afford another holiday!), Columbus Day can be de-holidayed. It’s truly the most insignificant of federal holidays anyway, whatever you think of the Admiral of the Ocean Sea.

New Horizons will fly by Pluto during my interlude. This week’s “glitch” was alarming, but the craft seems to have recovered. (I like the Wired caption: “Among with gobs of planetary science, New Horizons is capturing pictures of Pluto that are increasingly less crappy.”) I will be watching the news closely. Yesterday I came across theses proposed names for geographic features on the Ninth Planet and its moons. Interesting lists. The IAU might not be so keen on fictional explorers and their vessels, however.

Chanced recently across another musical act that I’d pay money to see (and there aren’t that many), namely the Ukulele Band of Great Britain. Pretty much on the strength of their version of the theme from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Too bad the closest they’ll be to me this year is Muncie, Ind., and that isn’t close enough.

Here’s some speculation: Treasury Secretary Jack Lew’s playing a deep game with the $10 and $20 bills. He proposed making Alexander Hamilton second banana on his note to elicit a wave of support for the first Treasury secretary — at the expense of Andrew Jackson. A common notion now seems to be, “Go ahead, get rid of Jackson, but not Hamilton!” Previously, the idea of tossing Jackson in favor of a woman wasn’t so warmly received. But now…

This is a recent headline that amused me: Google Self-Driving Cars Head to Austin, from PC Magazine, which further says that “the company has selected the city to be the next testing location for its autonomous Lexus SUVs…” Austin’s a very safe choice, I figure, especially if you turn the vehicle loose on I-35, where it won’t move very fast, if at all.

Just ahead of rain earlier this week, I went out to take some pictures of flowers. I went no further than my back yard.
July 2015July 2015July 2015July 2015July 2015O Summer,
Oft pitched’st here thy goldent tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

Spring Flowers ’15

Lilacia Park, May 9, 2015

The Lombard park sports a wealth of lilacs, of course, such as this Hyacinthiflora lilac.Lilacia Park, May 9, 2015But also tulips, such as “Antoinnette.”Lilacia Park, May 9, 2015And “Mona Lisa.”Lilacia Park May 2015And “Burgundy Lace,” a fringed tulip.Lilacia Park May 2015Also, good old crabapple trees.Lilacia Park, May 9, 2015This character showed up to entertain. I think. Or maybe he just likes to dress up. Thing 1 and Thing 2 weren’t around.Lilacia Park, May 9, 2015I took some of the pictures and Ann took others.

Peonies Aplenty

Deep within Spring Valley, here in populous northeastern Illinois, there’s a log cabin built by one John Redeker, son of Friedrich and Wilhelmine Redeker, which sounds like the sort of German family that once farmed the 19th-century Schaumburg. It feels a little remote, but it’s only an illusion. These days, the cabin hosts events and exhibits.

Merkle Cabin, June 2014It’s on the grounds of a peony farm that John briefly ran, but his death in 1930 at 30, and the following Depression and other factors, made it a short-lived enterprise. Still, peonies solider on at the site. Note the bushes in front of the cabin.

Not far away, in a clearing near the cabin, is a field of peonies.

peony field, Schaumburg, June 2014Peony June 2014One more flower, and that's enoughA good place to spend a few solitary minutes.

Never Mind the Bollocks, Here Are June Flowers

Rain is falling tonight, and more is predicted for tomorrow. So far, we don’t have the makings of a long, dry summer, though of course that could change.

The following are early June flowers at Spring Valley, here in northeastern Illinois. Mostly I don’t know species names, with the exception of the iris, of course. That’s been one of my favorite blooms since I saw them next to the driveway at our house in Denton, Texas, when I was a kindergartener.

Iris, June 2014

Spring Valley, June 2014Spring Valley, June 2014With flowers come bees. For now, anyway.

Bee, Northeastern Illinois June 2014

Here’s hoping whatever ails the bees doesn’t kill all of them, but makes the survivors resistant to the affliction.

Spring Valley Summer

Northern Illinois is incredibly lush now. Heavy winter snow and consistent spring rain will do that. This is a recent snap at Spring Valley in Schaumburg, Ill. Spring Valley, according to the Schaumburg Park District, “a refuge of 135 acres of fields, forests, marshes and streams.” All you have to do to see it is walk in.

Spring Valley, Schaumburg, June 2014Contrast that with images made at Spring Valley early one April. Remarkable what two months + a certain number of inches of water will do.

These little blue wildflowers cover the prairie areas. Hope they aren’t invasive. Then again, if they are, they add a lot of color here in early June, so maybe they should be welcome colonists.

Spring Valley Flowers June 2014The pond’s also verdant as all get out, layered with lily pads and alive with little fish under them. Spring Valley lily pads, June 2014I’m all for going places, far-away places if possible, but there’s also a lot to be said for near-to-here places.

More About Lilacs Than You Need to Know

One more shot from Lilacia Park — a peculiar tree. Who doesn’t like tree trunks that splay out in different directions?

More on the story of this beflowered little park is told by Illinois Old Houses (1977) by John Drury, which this web site extracts and asserts the book is public domain. In any case, it says that “… this was the home of the late Colonel William R. Plum, pioneer resident of the village — soldier, lawyer, traveler, writer, horticulturist, and founder of Lilacia Park. Containing more than three hundred varieties of lilacs from all parts of the world, this park is regarded by botanists as the finest lilac garden in the Western Hemisphere.

” ‘In 1911, when we were on a tour of Europe,’ Colonel Plum once told a family friend, Mrs. Annabelle Seaton, ‘we stopped at Nancy, in France, and there visited the famous lilac gardens of Pierre Lemoine. That visit proved my downfall. My wife purchased two choice lilac specimens, a double white and a double purple, and we brought them back to Lombard. From that time on my enthusiasm for lilacs grew and I have never lost interest in them since.’

“When Colonel Plum made this statement, the results of his hobby could be seen all about the old Plum home. Here were all types of lilacs, including one of his favorites, a blue variety called the ‘President Lincoln.’ The shrubs were pleasingly arranged on the Plum estate of two and a half acres, which he called ‘Lilacia.’ Since expanded to ten acres, Lilacia — re-named Lilacia Park — now contains 1,500 lilac bushes as well as 87,000 tulip bulbs.”

The Abraham Lincoln variety, I noticed, is still growing on the grounds of Lilacia Park. So is one named after Gen. Pershing, but most varieties don’t involve famed Americans. As for Pierre Lemoine, he seems to be this fellow, Victor Lemoine (the Spanish version of the page gives his full name as Pierre Louis Victor Lemoine), “a celebrated and prolific French flower breeder who, among other accomplishments, created many of today’s lilac varieties.” Born 1823, died 1911, so I guess you could say he created lilacs for the Belle Époque.