Join Me: An Invitation to Sit With Senescence

On Saturday, October 24th, we are hosting a screening of Piet Oudolf's Five Seasons - a film that makes the case, in the most beautiful way possible, that a garden in October and November isn't a garden past its prime. It's a garden in its fourth movement. The seed heads, the rust, the standing stems catching frost - this is where the design sings rather than fails. (The fifth season, I suspect, is the one where the garden is technically dead and somehow more alive than ever. We'll see what the film says.)

Participants will leave with a curated set of spring bulbs for fall planting. I chose bulbs that naturalize well and that critters won't eat - snowdrops, crocuses, daffodils, botanical tulips, camassia. There will be three curated packs to chose from.

I know the tension in that. We talk about native plants, about ecological integrity, and here I'm handing out bulbs. But the snowdrops and crocuses help queen bumblebees and early solitary bees before native ephemerals break ground. The others, like daffodils, can be mostly for us. And I think that's okay. Sometimes a a beautiful bloom in April is what is what excites you about moving into M ay. A garden doesn't always have to justify every plant by its ecological contribution. Sometimes it's a promise. A small, golden awakening after a long grey sleep.

First access below. Come sit in the dark with me and watch a garden be beautiful while dying.