It was a warm, sunny afternoon in early October when Shannon and I rode our bikes through Lake View Cemetery.  Large, and never crowded, with smooth blacktopped, winding roads, and rolling hills, it is one of my favorite places to ride my bike in town.  Tall mature trees offer cool shade in summer, and the crunch of fallen leaves in autumn.  Little whirlwinds of them rustled as we sped past the final resting places of our town’s former inhabitants; I love the sound of rustling leaves in autumn.  I love cemeteries, and ours was especially beautiful on this gorgeous autumn afternoon. 

It’s been said I spend an inordinate amount of time in cemeteries. 

From small, local graveyards, to well-known historical final resting places, I’ve visited cemeteries wherever I’ve lived and traveled.  I’ve seen the ancient and mysterious burial grounds of Stonehenge, and the hauntingly beautiful Pére Lachaise Cemetery in Paris that has an interment list that reads like a who’s who of the once famous/now dead:  Balzac, Oscar Wilde, Chopin, Edith Piaf, Gertrude Stein, Sarah Bernhardt, Isadora Duncan, Pissarro, Marcel Marceau, and Jim Morrison are all buried there. 

 The symmetry in the rows of simple white headstones in Arlington National Cemetery is somberly moving, and the “Cities of the Dead” in New Orleans with their above ground crypts and voodoo queen legends are among the creepiest.  The most populated may be The Old Jewish Cemetery in Prague with tombstones so close together they’re nearly back-to-back, and interred bodies twelve layers deep.  Twelve thousand headstones are visible, but it’s estimated closer to 100,000 people are buried there.  The nearby Holocaust Victims Memorial in Pinkas Synagogue is a stark reminder of man’s atrocities; with nearly 80,000 names of Bohemian and Moravian Jews, it is thought to be the world’s largest epitaph. 

Some epitaphs become famous for the cleverness or humor in them.  Ben Franklin wrote his own epitaph when he was a young man.     

The Body of
B. Franklin
Printer;
Like the Cover of an old Book,
Its Contents torn out,
And stript of its Lettering and Gilding,
Lies here, Food for Worms.
But the Work shall not be wholly lost:
For it will, as he believ'd, appear once more,
In a new & more perfect Edition,
Corrected and Amended
By the Author.

 The epitaph, though, does not appear on his grave in Philadelphia’s Christ Church Burial Grounds.  Only the names of he and his wife with the date 1790 are written on the marble slab adorned with pennies.  It’s Franklin who is credited with the adage, “A penny saved is a penny earned”, and visitors to his gravesite (which is coincidently across from the U.S. Mint) toss pennies on the slab for good luck.   

I’ve been fascinated with cemeteries since I was a kid, visiting my cousin’s house out in the country.  She and I would ride our bikes down the dirt and gravel road to the cemetery; the cemetery had paved roads which were much better for riding bikes than dirt ones. Spending an inordinate amount of time in a cemetery when you're a kid means adventure. We knew where all the cool graves were (the ones with the locket-type thingies on them that opened up to reveal the deceased’s photo), the slightly creepy graves (where the ground was mushy), and the better-not-even-go-near-it graves (the haunted ones, of course – haunted only because of the stories told to us by the older kids, or those we concocted ourselves). 

Some headstones can’t help but make you wonder about the life of the person buried there.   

But once the final curtain was drawn…  

Their lives forever remain cloaked in mystery, leaving it only to our imagination.    

Why, for example, is the Good Reverend Snyder’s grave marked with a plain rock?  Does this pauper’s type headstone symbolize a life lived without worldly possessions in anticipation of receiving greater gifts in the afterlife?  

The designs of tombstones are not purely decoration, but most have symbolic meaning, some of which has been nearly forgotten over time.   

Time and weather wore away nearly everything but the oak leaf on this simple, yet still beautiful headstone.  On tombstones, oak trees, leaves, and acorns represent strength, honor, stability, and long life.   

Oak leaves are present too, at the base of this towering monument.  The woman holding an anchor is often a symbol of hope, or someone lost at sea; in this case, perhaps the unpredictable waters of Lake Michigan claimed another victim. 

The fern growing at the base of this tombstone symbolizes humility and sincerity. Headstones in the shape of tree trunks typically mark the graves of Woodmen of the World members; the stones were a benefit of membership that was discontinued due to costs in the late 1920s. 

When exploring the gravesites, I stick to the cemetery’s older sections.  It’s not necessarily that the tombstones there are more interesting than more recent ones, but to me it seems somewhat disrespectful to imagine the lives and deaths of people who are still close in the hearts of family and friends.  

A few weeks after our bike ride, I returned to the cemetery on a gray, rainy day, this time alone and on foot.  Gloomy, cold, and with Halloween just around the corner, the unsettling atmosphere seemed appropriate.   

This the season to wonder what lurks behind those monuments on the hill....  

What family secrets were taken to the grave, and are best left buried forever under rock and earth?  

In all the time I’ve been alone in the cemetery, I’ve only been truly scared just once… 

I love cross-country skiing in the cemetery as much as I love bike riding there.  It was sunny when I left the house on my skis just after a storm that dumped two feet of snow finally let up.  At the cemetery, the deep snow made it impossible to actually see the roads; I only knew I was on them was because I wasn't running into headstones.   Without warning another system blew in over the lake, changing the blue sky to dark gray in an instant.  The snow came down hard and fast.  In nearly white-out conditions, I couldn't see three feet in front of me, much less where I thought the road should be. Evidently, I misjudged and ended up skiing among the graves.

It was slow moving; more like plodding than skiing, and I was growing tired.  Stopping to get my bearings, I chose to the nearest place to rest – which was on William "Buddy" Q. Hill’s grave. I apologized to Buddy as I sat on his headstone.  Quite suddenly, I found myself lying on the ground in what seemed to me to be a rather odd position.  I hadn’t fallen backwards off the headstone as one might expect; I wasn’t laying face down in the snow in front of it either.  I was flat on my back, directly on top of the grave with my head resting against Buddy’s headstone.

I gave a little laugh – that nervous kind of laughter that happens almost involuntarily when you don’t quite understand what happened.   

You know how sometimes you can freak yourself out with just your imagination?

I laid there half buried in the snow, and staring up at a completely white sky with big, wet flakes quickly covering my face.  It was kind of calming for a moment, but in an instant burst of irrational fear, I imagined an arm on either side of me reaching up, and pulling me under.  No one would know what happened; all my tracks would soon be erased by snow.  I would have simply disappeared without a trace.  I rolled off the grave, and made a beeline for the cemetery's exit, not caring if I was on the road or not. 

I’ve passed by Buddy’s grave every so often since then. (It sits fairly close to the road; only a few more feet and I would have been there!)  For the same reasons I prefer the older graves, I haven’t wondered too much about Buddy, except to note he was born less than 10 years ahead of me, and that he died very young, at age 18.  Instead of imagining what his life was like or why he died so young, every time I pass by I nod, or say “hi, Buddy.”  It seems the respectful thing to do.           

Despite stories of ghostly apparitions and haunted graveyards, I recently read that cemeteries are not a typical place for restless spirits to roam.  Grisly murders, untimely deaths, and unfinished business - a spirit will haunt the places where these events took place. Cemeteries are just final resting places for the body, not the spirit. Ghosts inhabit a cemetery only when their graves have been disturbed in some way  – by things such as improper burials, grave robbers, or natural disasters.  Or perhaps someone sitting on a headstone in need of a gentle little push to be reminded to respect the dead.  

Or maybe I just slipped.  

Happy Halloween, Everyone.

Last week, two of my co-workers, my boss, and I drove up to Grand Rapids at an ungodly hour unfit for man or beast.  Ok, admittedly, the hour is not so early to bother anyone but The Perpetually Late, and that would be me!  (Although I’m usually up by 5am, I had to leave home an hour and a half earlier than I normally do, and it’s always a struggle for me to get out of the house on time.)  We were headed to the last trade show of the season, where we placed the bulk of the garden center’s hardgood orders for next spring.  Despite the ungodly hour, the van was alive with excitement.

Field trip!  Remember as kid the excitement surrounding field trips?  Going on a field trip meant a day away from the classroom, a break from the routine, and a change of scenery.  For me, the enthusiasm never waned. 

Although this last trade show was in late September, August seemed to be the field trip month for us at the nursery.  During the month’s second week, our college intern and I went to Walter’s Gardens, Inc. in Zeeland, Michigan, just a short drive up the road. 

Walters Gardens, Inc., founded in the 1940s, is the largest bare root perennial wholesale grower in the United States.   With 1,500 acres and 500,000 square feet of greenhouses, they grow over 1,5000 perennial varieties, shipping between 15 and 20 million perennial liners to independent garden centers, wholesale growers, and landscape companies each year.  On the grounds are extensive display gardens, open to the public with no appointment necessary (though they do like a phone call beforehand).

I’ve been to Walters’ display gardens in the past; with nearly 100 new varieties added to Walters’ offerings each year, it’s never the same garden twice.  I’m responsible for ordering perennials for the nursery; seeing how plants grow in a garden helps me choose what I’ll order, and Walters Gardens is one of the suppliers I use.  Things look different in a catalog, and behave different in a garden than they do in pots.  A tour of the display gardens in August after the plants have bore the brunt of all the excessive rain, heat, and humidity this summer threw at them, gave me a good idea of what perennials I’ll place on our fall order for spring delivery; I don’t want to carry something at the nursery that isn’t going to stand up well in customers’ gardens.   

One plant that’s definitely on my list to order, as it has been for the past decade, is Brunnera macrophylla ‘Jack Frost’.  A Walters Gardens introduction, ‘Jack Frost’ Brunnera has been named the 2012 Perennial Plant Association’s Plant of the Year, the most prestigious perennial award in the country.   

Walters Gardens first introduced the plant in 2000, and it’s been a favorite of shade gardeners ever since.  Brunnera ‘Jack Frost’ grows in zones 3 to 8, prefers shade and moist, but well-drained soil; its heart-shaped silver and green leaves are complimented by tiny blue flowers in spring.    

Next up on the field trip itinerary was Chicago’s Navy Pier in mid-August for the Independent Garden Center Show.  A nice thing about attending the IGC Show is that some of the products showcased there are only sold to independent garden centers…meaning they aren’t available to the box stores.  It’s the largest trade show of its kind, featuring thousands of new gardening products and ideas from over 1,000 vendors. New plant introductions, living walls (very, very cool), birding supplies, garden art, arbors, statuary, and the more utilitarian garden basics such as fertilizers, soil conditioners, and pesticides are just a smattering of products displayed at the show. 

Based on the number of vendors offering supplies, it seems the fairy gardening craze continues for 2012.  There is a fairy gardening craze?  I guess we aren’t trendy enough, because we hadn’t realized there was a trend.  But, yes – now your garden fairies can keep up with the Jones’ fairies with wrought iron gazebos and fencing, tiny bistro sets to sit at while drinking tiny cups of whatever it is that fairies drink, fairy-sized swings, and whatever else a fairy might need to enjoy time spent in their garden.  I briefly wondered what would use a one-inch ceramic birdbath.  A mosquito, perhaps?  Though fairy gardening is not my taste, and we all agreed fairy gardening merchandize was not something our garden center’s customers would go nuts over, it is enchanting.  That is one of the cool things about gardening….whether it’s flower gardening, gardening for wildlife, gardening for fairies, or vegetable gardening, there is something to pique everyone’s interest.    

Speaking of vegetable gardening, the IGC show had more products than ever to assist the growing population of those that are growing their own food, for both the experienced gardener, and for those just getting started.  Prefab raised bed kits made from a variety of materials – recycled plastics, corrugated steel, and white-cedar, just to name a few – were in abundance.  Many of the kits retail for just about the same as it would cost to construct your own, but without the hassles of measuring and cutting.  Vendors offering greenhouse and cold-frame kits, organic gardening products, tools, and both organic and heirloom seed were well-represented.   

A co-worker and I stopped to chat with a representative from one of the heirloom seed companies – a gentleman by the name of Paul Wallace, from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds.  We talked about seeds, and he then showed us The Heirloom Gardener magazine, a gorgeous thing printed on thick, high-gloss paper, full of beautiful photos and enticing-sounding articles.  Thumbing through it, I came across an article about turkeys…written by none other than Oscar H. Will III – Hank, of course, from Grit, (I later recognized the magazine’s editor, Karen Keb, as being Hank’s wife and culinary partner in crime).

“Hey, I know him….sort of”, I pointed to the page with Hank’s article, explaining my association with Grit magazine. 

“You know Hank?  Nice guy.  He’ll be at The National Heirloom Exposition.  You both should come”, he said, handing my co-worker and I pamphlets.

Held in Sonoma, California, The National Heirloom Exposition ran for three days in September with workshops, demonstrations, and seminars, (along with Hank, KC Compton was on the roster of speakers), all focusing on heritage agriculture.  And food! 

Another field trip?!  Unfortunately, it was hard enough to break away for a day in Chicago; flying across country for nearly a week is impossible.  Drats!  Hope you had fun, Hank and KC – the Expo sounded like a good time.

One of the new products that we saw at both trade shows was the EarthBox Jr..  EarthBoxes are self-contained gardening systems that use less water and fertilizer and require less maintenance than do conventional container gardens.  We’ve carried EarthBoxes at the garden center for a number of years, and in our opinion they are better made than a lot of the knock-off self-contained gardening systems we’ve seen.  Based on our customer feedback, it produces great results.  The Organic EarthBox Jr. Kit will be on our shelves next spring, next to the full-sized Organic EarthBox Kits.   

For those of you who use a lot of vermiculite, you might want to stock up this fall.  The scuttlebutt is that it will be much more expensive next year; one vendor speculates it’ll double in price.  Vermiculite has many uses in industrial manufacturing and gardeners use it to loosen soil, and for its moisture retaining properties.  The forecasted higher price is due to a higher worldwide demand, and a global shortage of quality product (many sources have been found to contain trace metals and other impurities).  Currently quality vermiculite is being mined in South Africa and the United States.  An alternative to vermiculite would be perlite, which also conditions soil, mixed with a coarse peat moss to retain moisture.  I found just a few sites on the Internet verifying a possible price increase, but if you use a lot of vermiculite, it might be worth checking into further.   

Time spent after the field trips has been busy.  I’ve got all the perennial orders placed for next year, we’ve got a gorgeous display of hand-built birdhouses constructed out of wood and iron from old barns in Illinois that we ordered at the IGC show, and we’ve been rearranging the store to allow for a bigger area devoted to vegetable gardening.  I’ve got a slew of new gardening ideas I want to try at home, and a handy-dandy Baker Creek Heirloom Seed Company 2012 calendar on which to plan them and schedule other gardening tasks as well. 

What plans do you have for the next gardening season? 

And oh! do you believe in fairies?