Upriver

     Yesterday I carted my son and a teammate of his to a crew regatta on the James River west of Richmond at Robious Landing Park. Weather-wise, it was another miserable day, in a week long string of miserable days, where it has alternated between fine mist, downpours and everything in between. As is the nature of these events, it was a long day, but at least the setting was nice. I had plenty of time to explore the park's trails between races, and it was good to see one of my favorite rivers. Despite being only a couple hours from home, the climate and species are different. Winters are a little colder, the summers are a little sultrier, and there is no chance any of the plants will ever have to contend with salt water. The forest is free from the tyranny of loblollies, and deciduous, bottomland hardwoods flourish. It even smelled different, like the aroma you get when a black walnut husk is split. Another thing that struck me were the grape vines, some as big as my thigh. I had half hoped to see some fall color, but I know that is still a couple of weeks away, but any time spent in the forest is good, fall color or not, wet weather or not.

Busman's Holiday - Maymont Park

     After a delicious lunch at Lewis Ginter, we got back on the bus and headed across town to Maymont Park. This was far from my first visit. I was taken there frequently as a small child, and on one occasion a mule in their zoo tried to eat my coat, while I was still in it. Once when I was older I walked there while my mom or dad played softball nearby, and oblivious to the time of day, I ended up getting locked in and had to carefully scale the fence to get out. As a young adult I rented an apartment down the street and found the park a great place to clear my head. A lifetime later, after I discovered horticulture, I was flattered by an invitation to be a landscape judge for their annual flower and garden show (when such shows actually featured flowers and gardens). So I was excited when Maymont appeared on our trip's agenda. It was my first visit in nearly 30 years.

The Dooley Mansion

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     Maymont was once the country estate of the James and Sallie Dooley who bequeathed the entire property, gilded age mansion and its contents included, to the people of Richmond for use as a park. The city ran the park from 1925 until 1975 when the Maymont Foundation took over day-to-day operations and began raising money for long overdue renovations.

Happy lantana smothers the path to a gazebo.

     There is much to see at Maymont, but true to our natures, we were most interested in the gardens. The two largest are the Italian and the Japanese, which are connected by waterfall and a run of interesting stairs. There is a large pergola flanking the Italian garden with a domed room at one end. I remember this pergola as a wonderful tangle of wisteria, but that is gone now. Peggy Singlemann, the director of horticulture, told us they had to dig out 2' feet of soil in each bed of the garden in order to remove all of the wisteria's roots and seedlings. She also told us that she found the garden's original urns buried under a brush pile. The most amazing thing she told us was that she and two other people are the only horticulturists on staff for the whole park. Like us, they could do very little without the help of volunteers.

     What I took away from my visit to Maymont were certain similarities it has in common with the place I work. Both are municipally owned properties, with aging infrastructures, that are managed by a non-profit foundation (or in our case a society) of dedicated, hard working volunteers and employees.