Litter Mob tomorrow

Yes, again. No 11. Been trucking since May...

Directions. 

Orchids in Queens

It is likely that the smell of burning Pumas hung in the salty air of the Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge for some time after I screeched to a halt in front of these orchids in a damp spot near a path. Slat my dood met 'n nat vis! That's Afrikaans. Interestingly, the English equivalent also involves fish: Holy mackerel! We saw some good things during our fourth visit to this preserve, but these took the cake. Or the fish. They made me very happy.

I did not know what they were, of course, except that they were orchids. Later, some web searching ("white orchids jamaica bay", "white native orchids", "september orchids", "orchids new york state", bingo) revealed that they are Spiranthes cernua, nodding ladies' tresses, indigenous to our eastern states and to extreme southeastern Canada. Not uncommon in the United Sates at all: they like roadside ditches. But! But, might I suggest, not something we ordinarily stumble upon in the course of our New York City lives. No. 

I felt very lucky.

One orchid was all on its own in the middle of the grassy path and Vince built a teepee for it.

Two people nearby were deflating their blow up kayak and oblivious to the flowers' presence. Earlier the male of the two had rushed into the information center in great excitement: We saw three big brown birds on the pond! What are they?

It seemed very funny at the time.

The ranger on duty suggested  that they might be ibis. I thought I might know what they were, but only because I had just read this blog.

More about the big brown birds, and the rest of our afternoon there, later. Some good stuff...

A search for answers

The questions of this Saturday are:

Why do the weatherpersons even speak? We cancelled our whale cruise because of predicted downpours.
Should I roast tonight's duck a l'orange or a la SE Asia?
Do I head to the woods for mushrooms* or to Pier One for the unexpected?
Why does the cat sleep all day and eep all night?
Have the parsnips germinated and pushed their heads above the surface in their pots on the roof?
Will there be more ripe strawberries up there than down here (12)?

Off to find some answers.

* if you're in the hood pick up the latest edition of Edible Brooklyn (stunning blue cover) where I have an oyster mushroom story.

Wave Hill Garden Party

So I did take my little SD95 with me after all, hidden in my little evening purse, to the Wave Hill Garden Party last Thursday evening. I needn't have worried. I had plenty of company, amongst the iPhone-wielding younger attendees. While we did not have much time in the gloaming to wander the grounds, I snapped what I could.

Still, I think the best part of the evening was sipping my gin and tonic from an of-our-hipster-times mason jar, which prompted Faity Tuttle to recall that during Prohibition corn liquor was matured by being driven on Virginia's bumpy backroads in the back of a truck; this story being told by someone who is 100 years old, who was present, then,  and who could hardly stop laughing long enough to tell the tale.

Slumming it, Vince and I rode up by train from Grand Central, nipped onto the shuttle from the Riverdale station to the garden and met our friends Graeme and Silas. I had not seen the garden in September and must come back, soon. Scott Canning, the director of horticulture, seems to know what he is doing.

We flew by the Alpine garden.

And in the herb garden colchicum were in bloom.

A Frenchie was in bloom, too.

Here is a secret garden surrounded by a hornbeam hedge.

Green porcupines.

 I know what this is. What is it?

It is grass time.

Which also signal a return to the High Line, and to Battery Park...

Dinner was good, the auction was fun. We saw old friends (including Betty) and met nice people, including Wave Hill intern and Flickr acquaintance Esme, who describes herself as fledgling gardener (and here is her fledgling blog - she promises there will be more)...

A good night in the Bronx...

East Houston park

In the year before Holly, Wood and Vine and I parted ways (unwillingly, on my part) I designed a park for a corner lot on East Houston Street. Initially, I had contacted and met with the Parks Department about resurrecting the Median, a derelict strip in the middle of Houston Street that had the ironic "Greenstreets" sign planted in it. More like brownstreets. And then, when I asked more questions, they went farther and agreed to partner with the company to transform the lot across the road from fenced-off wasteland to public park.

It had been fallow and off limits for decades, ever since the gritty days of New York City when many homeless people slept and camped out and lit fires there at night. The homeowners whose buildings' rears faced the lot clubbed together and forced the city to close the park. And so it sat, locked and useless to everyone.

So to have an agreement to open it up again for public use was very exciting. But then I was fired (my generous salary, based on commission, was a burden, mid recession, apparently). After I left the company the median was no longer maintained, and while HWV went as far as implementing the path in the corner lot and creating the beginnings of a berm, progress then stopped, and the chainlink gates remained locked.

These are scans of the schematics I created for the park on the heavy French stock using the three shades of primary colours I love to work with. Plant labels came later. The scheme was mostly native, and heavy on wild edibles. Sassafras, spicebush and serviceberry, sumac and blueberries. Trout lilies in spring, Pinxter azaleas and Rhododendron austrinum, wild ginger, drifts of Virginian bluebells. Tall lilies and Joe-Pye weed in summer, asters and golden rod round about now. Fall witch hazel. And a lot more.

Recently, however, on my way to Izumi's salon (snip snip) and Momofuku the other night I was surprised and very happy to see that the lot has at last been transformed, not by the landscape company or by the Parks Department (do they actually do anything green in the city - why are they so underfunded?) but by BMW and Guggenheim Labs. A pop up event space. It was wonderful to see the long neglected and ignored city land used to such good effect. As for the plantings: white "Knockout"  roses planted thickly under the big old plane trees. Not exactly my woodland dream, but better than nothing.

It was hard to let go of  my vision for this park. But I am relieved to know that this valuable space is being put to use, at last.

Grand Central, 5pm

Where to go

1st Avenue in the East Village last night after our supper at Momofuku. We ate very well. Raw scallops with horseradish and radish sticks, smoked trout with watercress, trout roe and crispy trout skin, char-grilled octopus with raw summer squash, pork buns for him, oysters buns for me, tiny heirloom potatoes dressed with beurre blanc, and then fluffy, whipped tofu with dulce de leche and salty peauts. Nigori sake to drink.

Now off to Wave Hill, via rail. There is something very satisfying about saying to someone, Meet me at the clock in Grand Central.