In the Weeds, with Matthew Gallaway: The Oxford Botanic Garden
The second I walked through the entrance of the University of Oxford Botanic Garden, I knew I had made the right decision to skip the historic site of ____ (est. 1287), which several of my colleagues opted to visit on a recent Sunday afternoon before a series of 'business meetings' that would occupy us through the duration of our stay.
The grounds were empty, which made it all the easier—as I considered a massive birch tree, with a magical, silver trunk unlike any I had ever seen—to picture J.R.R. Tolkien as he strolled these same paths, his head filled with elves and hobbits.
In New York City, of course, I would have expressed a more snobbish disdain for anything affiliated with 'Lord of the Rings,' but here, surrounded by trees that were hundreds of years old—and with the low northern sun breaking through the clouds—it was impossible to be jaded or cynical as I pondered the question of Frodo and Sam's non-heterosexual attraction.
I made my way to the oldest tree in the garden, an English Yew (Taxus baccata) planted in 1645 during the English Civil War (instigated after King Charles passed 'universal health care').
An English hornbeam (Carpinus betulus) planted in 1800 struck me as more 'ent-like.'
As did a black pine (Pinus negrus), dating from the same year.
Neither of which lessened my admiration for a moss-covered Service Tree (Sorbus domestica) that was even ten years older.
I next went to the rock garden, still glistening after an afternoon rain-shower.
With serious pangs of exhilaration (and admittedly, jealousy), I considered an immense patch of sandwort (Minuartia stellata) oozing across the rocks. I've spent many hours trying to decipher my obsession for alpine plants, but like so many attractions, this one seems to elude any kind of rational explanation.
I felt more sedate on the 'autumn walk,' lined with gorgeous dahlias and heleniums.
Regrettably, the sun began to set, which led me to stroll more aggressively through the various sections of botanical family borders. I could not resist stopping to admire another stunning sorbus (S. sargentiana, native to West China) laden with clusters of bright orange berries.
As I left the garden, I asked myself why the fuck I lived in New York City, where life is so often difficult, abrasive and ugly. But like my love for ___ and ___, I knew that even if it defied logic, the city was already pulling me back into its orbit, and though I had been gone for just a few days, I already longed to return.
Previously: Jumel Terrace
Matthew Gallaway is a writer who lives in Washington Heights. His first novel, 'The Metropolis Case,' will be published in 2010 by Crown.
Loverly.
Very nice, but I don't think Frodo and Sam's relationship is non-heterosexual. Men can love each other and be willing to die for one another without wanting to fuck each other. It's just New England Puritanism to require men/hobbits be aloof to one another lest they be accused of lustful attraction.
I was mostly kidding, Bucko — but I don't remember any 'real' non-heterosexual attraction in LOTR, do you?
idk. I always thought Gandalf was a bit of a pedo. Sort of like Dumbledore, always hanging out with the little people. Truth be told, there's very little sexuality at all in LOTR. It's all of the Freudian variety, you know, dark shadows in the night kind of stuff.
The English and their gardens, f*ck: that rare combination of temperate climate, garden slaves, plants brought back from far-flung colonies.. So beautiful.
It's a beautiful place – I used to live literally just down the road. Did you get a chance to visit the University Parks as well? Also opium-dreamy.
Speaking of which, one funny thing about the Botanical is that in the 'medicinal plants' section amongst the poppies row on row they've snuck in some fine cannabis specimens, but without labels. So if you're in the Thames Valley and jonesin, there ya go..
Just be careful you don't get knifed.
Sadly I didn't get nearly enough time to explore Oxford, at least in the daylight hours. (I did manage to stumble around drunk at least one night, which was also a great experience.)
OK, I am not trying to be Slate-y about this: but English gardens are un-favorites of mine! Not that I don't totally appreciate the Middle Earth foliage but I think alpine plants in general make me a little sad? And it's all super symmetrical and I feel like I'm on an elementary field trip, you know? Maybe there's a greater delicacy to Japanese gardens. I also like the jungle! I am just being REAL, MATTHEW.
Lovely, as always.
I must beg to differ slightly, NVC! (Not about the loveliness of Japanese gardens but!) it's the French whose gardens tend toward the super-symmetrical — think of Versailles — and the best rock gardens replicate a very 'natural' feel (which paradoxically is the height of a certain kind of botanical artifice). I will agree that alpine plants exude a certain melancholy that no doubt attracts so many of the obsessive non-heterosexuals (and I suppose, non-homosexuals) of the world; they are difficult to grow, yet their colors and leaves tend to be more pure/complicated than non-alpine varieties, which — given the extreme environments in which they grow naturally — is a metaphor for the attempt to live beautifully in the most hostile conditions, i.e., blogging on the internet!
Lovely reply, Matthew, and a lovely column, as always. Thanks.
EEEE dewey blogger tears.
Ok, so are English gardens more like Heathcliff on the windy cliffs a-la Bronte? Craggy and such? Where is Marienbad? BURN IT DOWN!
I was going to say something similar.
I think of English gardens as being like a slightly dotty old lady wearing a lovely cardigan.
I think this is the first time I've come across a reference to plants 'oozing' and I must say I like it!
Also, basically across the road (and across the river, I guess) is the Magdalen deer park. Not sure how easy it is to get into, but it's neat to have deer and a sort of pastoral park right in the middle of a mid-sized city.
There are deer on Richmond Common in SW London.
It's pretty much impossible to get into the grounds unless you know someone affiliated with Magdalen.
I think this is the first time I've been able to use anything I learned while studying abroad.
It's actually quite easy to visit Magdalen:
http://www.magd.ox.ac.uk/college/visitors
and it has probably the most impressive grounds of any Oxford college.
Alpinists and other obsessives can read (some) Reginald Farrer online: http://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/creator/11167
I also recommend the Siskiyou Rare Plant nursery, which has both incredible plants and books, such as the essential 'Rock Garden Plants' by Baldassare Mineo (who manages the nursery). At the age of eight, he famously told his third-grade teacher: 'My favorite summer activity was watching my plants grow.'
http://siskiyourareplantnursery.com