This past May I spent a week working at the Heronswood Northwest Research Nursery at Kingston, WA, across the Puget Sound from Seattle. At that time, I helped harvest plants for propagation. I was anxious to see how the garden looked after the growing season. So when I was offered a chance to visit again, I jumped at it.

I landed at Seattle and took a taxi to the Bainbridge Island ferry. I always expect it to rain when I visit this area, but it never does. Today is a lovely, clear day with the Sound calm and the long rays of the early November sun glinting off the water. As the ferry proceeds across the Sound, we are flanked by two U.S. Coast Guard Defender class speed boats at about 200 yards off either side of our stern. On the bow of each, a sailor mans a 50-cal. machine gun. Our escorts peel off and head back toward Seattle after we are about two-thirds of the way to Bainbridge Island. Whether for training or some tangible threat, I never discovered why they were there.

The garden is about 15 minutes by car from the ferry. As we approach, I see to the west the Olympic Mountains, which are bare now but in May had been covered with snow and soon will be again. The garden too has changed. Most of the herbaceous understory plants that I had admired in the spring are either not apparent or in a state of late senescence. The massive Gunnera looks worn and bedraggled, and the deciduous trees show some muted fall color. The Douglas-fir, which make up the canopy of the main garden, look much the same as they did 6 months earlier. There is no evidence of our work in May; the garden looks as though we were never there.

Paths crisscross the garden, defining the different beds. Walking these, I find a variety of diminutive Cyclamen blooming. There are 23 species in this genus (family Primulaceae). They are native to the Mediterranean region and the Horn of Africa. They do well in the Pacific Northwest, and they are adapted for water conservation. In their native habitats during the hot part of the summer, they die back and reemerge from underground tubers in late winter and flower the following fall. Here, they’re in full bloom.

The Epimedium, on the other hand, that were so ubiquitous in May can barely be seen. They are hardy perennials and also like the Pacific Northwest. Mostly, they are four-petaled “spider-like” flowers that are tremendously diverse in form and color. There are about 60 Epimedium species (family Berberidaceae) that are primarily endemic to southern China; some are found in Europe and central, south, and east Asia. There are uses for epimediums outside a garden too. Extracts and preparations have been used for centuries to arrest a cough or stimulate the libido, whether successfully or not, I don’t know.

Trillium is another genus that in spring is everywhere at Heronswood, but it too has more or less disappeared for now. Trillium is native to temperate regions of North America and Asia and has 40 to 50 species. In the woodlands of the eastern USA and the Midwest, the most common is Trillium grandiflorum. The above-ground parts of the plant is a scape, a flower stalk without leaves. The true leaves are simple papery coverings surrounding subterranean rhizomes.

When I was here before, I became aware of members of the genus Helleborus, commonly called hellebores. Helleborus (family Ranunculaceae, buttercups) is native to western UK, Spain and Portugal, and much of central and eastern Europe. The center of diversity is the Balkans. There are about 20 species and many interspecific hybrids. What appear to be petals are actually sepals; the petals are reduced and modified to cup-like nectaries. Heronswood has a great collection of hellebores, but they are only wispy, papery things now.

Throughout the garden, I find all the woody plants that I saw in spring. The hydrangeas are still flowering but with not much conviction, and their leaves have a dull, yellow hue. The rhododendrons are impressive still, even without flowers. Some are 12 feet high with shiny 14-inch leaves; some are small and unassuming. Some have “furry” indumentum covering the undersides of leaves that is silvery, red to brown, or white. I pass the dogwoods, daphnes, camellias, edgeworthias, and viburnums, but they’re not of much interest now.

The Skimmia x confusa ‘Kew Green‘, though, looks about as well as it did in spring with its almost luminous green leaves and bright red fruit. Skimmia is native to the temperate parts of Asia and is a genus of four species of evergreen shrubs and small trees in the family Rutaceae. ‘Kew Green‘ is monoecious with clearly distinct separate male and female flowers.

At the south end of the main garden is a small pond framed by a prominent hedge of European hornbeam (Carpinus betulus ‘Fastigiata’). The technique used to create the hedge is called “pleaching”. Trees are planted in a row, the branches are woven together and often scored where they touch to promote grafting, and the hedge or wall is shaped by pruning, much as it is done in topiary. This Heronswood hedge encloses the pond garden by three sides of a square. It’s roughly 10 feet high and a series of arches have been trained and pruned into it to add detail and openness.

In this garden, there’s a small fountain running. Next door are goats, making goat noises. Apart from these, and an occasional gust of wind high above in the firs, there’s no sound. It’s November, and night is coming on; the air is cooling. Time to go. I have dinner plans and people to meet.