The Visitor Center faces meadow and woodland

According to their brochure, which has a nice map of all the trails, Banshee Reeks encompasses a wide variety of Virginia Piedmont habitats in more than 700 acres.  There is a log cabin, barn, and remains of a springhouse from the 1830s, and archeological evidence of 10,000 years of human occupation.  An education center provides space for hands-on activities, and a visitor center is open on the third weekend of every month.  I also noticed as we hiked that they have particularly nice tree identification labels.

The dogs enjoyed themselves as much as we did. They certainly smelled more.

Puwen’s husband Dick and their friend Phil are bird watchers and had visited Banshee Reeks before.  Some other friends, Ted and Carla, also came along with their dog.  Since the teenagers in the group had dropped out, all six adults and two dogs, iPod and Sadie, were able to pile into Puwen and Dick’s van for the trip.

Heading toward the pond

We took the Springhouse trail down past a pond and then followed Goose Creek for a while.  Other than vultures and some song sparrows, the birds had gone somewhere else for the day.  At least we thought so until some screeching high up alerted us to some sort of bird of prey.  That is, unless it was a banshee.  We were certainly in among the “reeks” or hills at that point.

There is archeological evidence that Native Americans hunted and foraged along Goose Creek for thousands of years.

We walked back to the visitor center where we feasted on beignets Puwen had made, drank coffee, and recovered from our exertions.  While we stood looking out from the porch, Dick spotted the likely screecher from earlier—a peregrine falcon dipping and swooping over the meadow.  Whew.  At least it wasn’t a banshee.

View from the porch of the Visitor Center--Peregrine not included.

The gatehouse and entrance on 30th and R; the gatehouse serves as an office.

In my post “Gardens, Formal and Less So,” I was thinking about parks, landscape architecture, and city planning, and Oak Hill fits in all those categories.  “Park?” you may ask, and my answer would be yes.  It was once known for Sunday carriage rides and picnics. In September of 1860, it was praised by The Evening Star, which called it “picturesque” and “a place where nature and art have combined to produce the most surprising effects.”

In the late 18^th and early 19^thcenturies, knowledge that improper burials could foul the water supply and cause other problems produced a movement to place cemeteries outside of town and make them pleasant places by adding elements of the garden to them.

This view from North Hill looking toward the chapel gives an overall view of the terracing.

The Grove Street Cemetery in New Haven and Mount Auburn in Boston were early examples of cemeteries established beyond the city limits, with landscaping, a caretaker, and a gatekeeper.  Set up as non-profit organizations, the cemeteries put proceeds from plot purchases into maintenance—a new idea at the time.

The grounds are scattered with benches.

Oak Hill was the brainchild of W.W. Corcoran, an international banker, art collector, and philanthropist.  He wanted to donate something to his native Georgetown and the need for a cemetery was apparent to him.  He bought 12 acres of land at what was then the edge of Georgetown and deeded it to the Oak Hill Cemetery Association in 1849.  Several later land purchases expanded the cemetery’s acreage.  Now it is bounded on the south by R street, on the West by Montrose Park, on the East by 28th Street and the Evermay estate, and on the north by Rock Creek.

The Corcoran-Eustis memorial overlooks Rock Creek.

At the time, Washington was teeming with some of the 19^th century’s best minds in city planning, landscaping, and architecture.  Corcoran, who was on the Board of the Smithsonian, whose red sandstone headquarters had recently been built by James Renwick, undoubtedly drafted some of them into his project.

George Francis de la Roche, a civil engineer who had worked on the Old Naval Observatory, was the chief engineer and architect at Oak Hill.  The gatehouse to the cemetery, a miniature Italianate villa with a gothic look, is attributed to him.  Some historians think it shows the influence of Andrew Jackson Downing, who was planning landscapes for the Mall at the time.

Note the terracing and the steps in the amphitheater section of the cemetery.

Mr. de la Roche also designed Oak Hill’s terracing, with blind walls that ensured stability and a storm sewer system to protect against erosion.

One of the first things a visitor to Oak Hill notices is the chapel.  Renwick designed it in 1850.  It is the only example of one of his gothic revival churches in the Washington area.  Renwick also designed the gates at the main entrance to the cemetery.  Originally meant for the Smithsonian, a work stoppage sent them to Oak Hill.

The chapel has been called "a miniature gothic gem."

The gates actually run on tracks.

A walk through Oak Hill reveals grave markers for confederate spies, monuments to early area families such as Van Ness, Corcoran, Beall, and Mackall, modest markers for families such as the Peter’s of Tudor Place, and the Carroll mausoleum where Abraham Lincoln’s son Willie was interred until taken back to Springfield Illinois.

The Van Ness family worked in banking, building, and city government.

In a few square yards on the south side of the chapel, you can also see names from the 20^thcentury:  Graham (the Washington Post), Acheson (Secretary of State), and Bruce (diplomacy).

The chapel entrance, west side.

Oak Hill has some outstanding pieces of funerary art as well.  One of the more notable of these, Amor Caritas by Augustus Saint Gaudens, was stolen in 1986 after a biography of the artist was published.

Paul gets a closer look at the Corcoran memorial.

It was later recovered and the cemetery was able to install a replica on the Willard memorial from which it was taken.  The original is in storage.  Because of this incident, and because the cemetery does experience theft and vandalism, I won’t be pointing out anything someone could walk off with.

This angel looks as though she could take off.

While the 21^st century mind might not wax as eloquent about a cemetery as the Evening Star did in 1860, Oak Hill’s trees, terraces, and benches do provide quiet in the midst of urban bustle.  I can’t imagine that people in the houses across R street view it as anything but an addition to the value of their real estate:  quiet green space that won’t be developed, and if they’re fans of bird life, a ready habitat.  I’ll leave it to you to decide whether you want to have a walk in a cemetery, but if you like nature, art or history, it’s sure to please.

These birds were enjoying a bath; we also heard pileated woodpeckers.

Paul heads down one of two terraces for large mausoleums. Note razor wire on the Montrose Park border.

Seen from Rock Creek Parkway, this section looks like a city of the dead; it's this area where Lincoln's son Willie was interred.

Mostly the cold frames have been open, but they're closed for the current weather.

Earlier in the winter, we had installed some cold frames, but even the lettuce wintering outside was doing well. I picked a nice head of oak leaf lettuce that was growing in the square foot gardening container.

Someone's going to find this tasty, I hope!

The broccoli is also thriving, with multiple flower heads.  I took some of the larger heads and left the smaller ones to get a little bigger.

I didn’t take any of the collards, and had second thoughts about that when I looked at the picture I’d taken of them. Turns out it didn’t matter much.  Don Weber (see Planning the Fall Garden, August 2011) came along behind me and cut quite a few leaves.  We both made deliveries to Puwen Lee, who will take them to AFAC when she goes in to work on Monday.

These crafty collards will probably weather the latest cold.

I still haven’t had to buy any lettuce this winter.  That has made me want to plan even more cold crops for my own garden next fall.  In the meantime, I’m in full swing with planning for my spring and summer garden, and highly recommend Territorial Seed’s Garden Planner.  If you have trouble planting too much or too little, this planner spaces things for you. And if you just want to enjoy the winter weather, I won’t begrudge you a cup of cocoa and and a good book.

Most westerners, however, when we visit a famous garden, are only seeing the results of about four or five hundred years of history.  At the time Versailles was built, the formal garden was in vogue.  Plants were clipped and pruned and mastered.

Formal Gardens at Schoenbrunn

Pollarded trees formed straight allées and flowers and topiaries created symmetrical lines.

Plane tree allee at Villa Melzi

The 18^th century saw the advent of the English landscape or natural style garden, championed by William Kent, Lancelot “Capability” Brown, and later Sir Humphrey Repton.  Owners of large country houses such as Blenheim Palace and Studley Royal ceded formal gardens to lawns, lakes, and tree-topped hills.

The lawn at Dumbarton Oaks

At the same time, plant hunters were introducing new plants and plant varieties from Asia, Africa and the Americas.  In the 18^th century, the American colonies facilitated extensive horticultural exchange with Europe.  Just last summer, in the gardens of the Villa Melzi in Bellagio, Italy, I saw my first cinnamon tree, brought as a specimen in the 1800’s.

The second cinnamon tree--at Isola Bella

Another garden with extensive specimens was Isola Madre, a “natural” landscape garden with plants whose native habitats span the globe.

Plant hunters greatly increased the types and quantities of stock available to gardeners and as a result, two different garden styles began to emerge.  One style, influenced by English cottage gardens and advocated by William Robinson, championed “natural” gardening by gardeners, using hardy plants.  The other, advocated by architect Reginald Blomfield, held that architects rather than gardeners should design the layout of the garden and then leave the gardeners to see to the bed preparation and tend the plants.  This latter style, which included architectural features such as stairways,

A stairway at Isola Bella

fountains, statuary, clipped hedges forming rooms,

View of the enclosed water gardens from the roof of Biltmore House

grass walks, and paved footpaths, can be seen in most of today’s preeminent gardens.

One of many different kinds of paths at Dumbarton Oaks

In the United States these ideas took a less adversarial tone and can be seen in Andrew Jackson Downing’s cottage gardens and gothic revival home designs for those who did not own vast estates.  Downing, who coined the term landscape architecture, was also an advocate of public parks, which were unknown until the middle of the 19^th century.  He designed the first plan for the National Mall and mentored Frederick Law Olmsted who worked on later plans and also designed Central Park in New York City.  George Vanderbilt’s Biltmore estate is an example of Olmsted’s work for an individual.

A view of Biltmore House

Thus gardens and garden design were viewed as not only the province of the wealthy, but ordinary individuals and as a force for public good.

I have taken a Eurocentric view of gardening in this post, reflecting the style most readily seen in American gardens and those I have visited in Europe.  One exception is Innisfree in the Hudson Valley.  While it is a distinctly American garden, it reflects a Chinese style of gardening, seen in centuries old paintings and called cup gardens by Lester Collins.  It is a place of astonishing beauty, with a vista everywhere you turn your eyes.  I would like to revisit it and look further into varieties of Asian gardens.  Maybe this summer….

Different levels of the garden at Villa Monastero on Lake Como

We wanted to see whether there would be eagles hanging around the marsh area, so we took the great marsh trail to the overlook.

The overlook provides a panorama and a look out.

We did see two immature eagles that did not yet have their distinctive white head and tail feathers.  We also saw a great assortment of ducks, geese, and in the farthest part of the marsh, tundra swans.

Those white things toward the back are the swans...

Once we had feasted our eyes on all this bird life and sparkling winter water, we moved from the wildlife refuge to the state park.  We stopped in to the visitor center to confirm our swan sighting.  Then we took what is called the bay view trail.

There we saw some duck blinds and what appeared to be a delegation of water fowl seeking a truce.

The water fowl delegation approaches the hunting encampment.

This trail was well marked with information on marshes and swamps, plant and animal life and—as you’ll know if you read Visiting and Foraging in Southern Virginia last September, one of my favorite wild fruits is the paw paw—a grove of paw paw trees was noted on our self tour.  Of course, not much was identifiable about them in the winter, but I was able to regale my friend with my most recent paw paw feast.  We headed back to the car, our appetites primed by the paw paw talk, to warm up with coffee and pumpkin muffins.  No ticks, no chiggers, no deer flies…

Someone presumed this beech wanted hugs.

The arugula is spreading contentedly.

The lettuce cold crop is thriving.

I knew I wouldn’t have time for digging and mulching, but I also needed to prune my beautiful trumpet vine, so we can put a higher fence around the garden. It also just generally needed to be reined in.  This can be done in the winter up to the point the plant starts to come out for spring.

The freshly pruned trumpet vine

Since the trumpet vine sets its flowers in spring and early summer, that’s not the time to prune, unless you don’t care about those bright orange blossoms.

Summer's blossoms

I also wanted to prune my roses.  It’s been so warm, they still had some ragged blossoms at the same time they had developed their winter buds on the canes.  I could have waited until February, but decided to prune now, given it’s supposed to get really cold for a  few days.  The other flowers in my garden that are thriving in the cool, but not cold weather are calendulas.  These are never happy in the dog days of August, but begin to thrive in the fall.

These have buds galore, but may get nipped tonight.

Other gardeners were there, too, and one gave me a bag of fresh greens from the three bags she had harvested.  She was pulling winter weeds and digging in organic material.

Judy's been giving greens to friends and neighbors.

Since pruning the two roses and the trumpet vine and bagging the trimmings took most of my time, I wasn’t able to begin weeding or hauling any mulch.  I did, however, harvest some of my lettuce, arugula and chard.  I also got a sweet little bouquet from the flowers and herbs that were there.

The word is we’ll have warmer temperatures again by next weekend, and if that holds true my fellow gardeners and I will probably be back, digging around.  I’m looking forward to the coming growing season, new initiatives in the Plot Against Hunger, and talk of a food hub in northern Virginia.  Check back in when you can!

Picking the best size

George peels and slices a turnip.

The turnips are quite pretty as they sit in the field with their purple tops and tall greens.  While George told us these turnips were not planted to produce greens (who would have thought that was a specialty?), one end of the field had turnips with particularly good tops.  We wanted AFAC’s clients to have the benefit of both the turnips and the greens.

Gleaners hit the field

In about two and a half hours, we had more than 1300 pounds.  Then those of us with a hankering for turnips went back out into the field to pick a few for ourselves.  People were talking about how they planned to prepare them: mashed with butter; as turnip cakes; as greens with smoked turkey or bacon; roasted.

No, I didn't set out to match the turnips...

I brought my five turnips (and two small winter radishes) home and cleaned them in the sink.  I love turnip greens, but already had a bunch of Swiss chard from my garden waiting in the refrigerator.  So I chopped and blanched the greens so I could freeze them to eat later.  You could also lightly steam them or give them a short boil before freezing them.  The idea is that they should be able to stand a little more cooking when you decide to eat them.

Ready to freeze

Then I turned my attention to the turnips, which I wanted to roast with other winter produce.  I decided to mix them with a few mushrooms, carrots, celery, an onion, a few Brussels sprouts, an apple, and some thyme from my garden.  I never peel a turnip unless it’s rutabaga sized, so I just trimmed and sliced the turnips, chopped the other veggies, and put them in a dish for roasting.  I added the thyme, salt, pepper and a drizzle of olive oil and put them in a 400 degree oven.

Chopped, oiled, and seasoned

Since oven temperatures vary, it’s always a good idea to monitor the veggies.  I checked them and stirred at fifteen minutes and they were done in another fifteen.  The best way to test, of course, is to stick a fork in one of the harder veggies, such as the turnips or carrots.  If they’re cooked to your liking, the others will be as well.

I ate mine with some salmon croquettes, but this mix looks pretty festive and could easily be an accompaniment to a more elaborate meal.  And they’re even better as leftovers.

In the meantime, most of the leaves are gone from the trees, but some festive fruits remain.

Quite a few roses linger.

And some plants are prepared not only for the cold, but for its aftermath.

The garden entrance on R Street.

In all four seasons, it is so beautiful that it reminds me of a line in a letter Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote to Margaret Fuller in October 1840:  “Heaven walks among us ordinarily muffled in such triple or tenfold disguises that the wisest are deceived and no one suspects the days to be gods.”  At Dumbarton Oaks, the disguises are thrown off.

Like some of the Italian gardens I saw last summer, Dumbarton Oaks provides a combination of beautiful vistas and smaller, more private spaces or “rooms” to enjoy.

There are quiet places to sit.

In the spring, Cherry Hill is a peaceful alternative to the Tidal Basin

The garden was a collaboration between Mildred Bliss and Beatrix Farrand in the 1920s and 1930s, though it continued to evolve into the 1960s.

There was work going on when I was there, from leaf raking to picking up landscape cloth in the growing garden.

A rake sprouts up among the leaves...

Apparently, there was once a large kitchen garden where now mostly flowers are grown.  The vegetable garden, though much reduced, is still bigger than mine, and there is some discussion of expanding the vegetables according to the gardener I buttonholed on my way through the prunus walk.  They have a nice set-up for compost, which I noticed because one of the leaf rakers emptied a big tarp into it while I was having garden envy by the remnants of the vegetables.

The vegetable garden; compost bins and leaves being dropped upper left.

Most people think about visiting great gardens in the spring and summer, but Dumbarton Oaks is one of my favorite places to stroll in the fall and winter.

The Japanese maple blazes, while the Katsura's turning leaves (see branches reaching across the lawn) lend a scent of cooked sugar to the air.

It sheds its glory spectacularly in the fall to reveal the outlines of its beauty—the bones, as a gardener would say.  And there is nothing so cheering as the sight of snowdrops along the R street path by the east lawn in the depths of February.  There is something here for everyone to enjoy, whether it be a view,

From the spires of 16th Street to the minaret on Massachusetts...

a specimen plant,

This American Beech is on the Beech Terrace....

a sense of place,a special feature,

Stairs to the pool; turn right for the mosaics of mythical scenes.

or pure whimsy.

Sapling sculptures circle inside the Ellipse.

So don’t discount a visit now that we’re approaching winter.  You’ll be surprised and, I hope, delighted.

If you need help, Pan can point the way...

I have hopes of a few more peppers from this hardy plant.

It turned out there were lots of peppers and tomatoes, a few green beans, which I ate tonight, and some peas. After I harvested, except for one hardy pepper plant, I cleaned the beds out. Since the remaining basil had turned black, I took that out as well.

I have arugula and some mixed lettuces yet. In addition, there are carrots coming on and I’m very pleased with the progress of the garlic.

Garlic and lettuces growing in the same bed. Arugula lower left.

I only planted twelve this fall, so it’s important that they all come up and survive. The chard is much happier than it was in August and I harvested some of it for eating this week.

Happy chard.

Once we’re into fall, there are fewer flowers for cutting. I now have rose blossoms and rose hips within inches of each other on the same plant.

Lower right, you can glimpse the neighboring garden's rhubarb, too...

The cosmos are thriving and the calendula actually like cold weather, so I may have them for a while. Still, the flowers are pretty thin, but adding Artemisia silver king, and rosemary clippings gives me a reasonable bouquet.

Staving off paying for flowers...

I’ll have to pull weeds and lay some more mulch before too long so the garden can rest and rejuvenate in the winter. Maybe I can get to that by Thanksgiving. Then there will only be a couple months of garden withdrawal before I can start planning for the next one…