A day visit to the Museum can easily include a stroll through 100 Acres no matter what you are wearing.  The pretty sundress and sandals I wore the night of the event fit in perfectly with the atmosphere of the party, but didn’t facilitate fully exploring the park. Something occurred to me as mucked up my sandals and watched a few women struggling around the park in high heels (ouch)…

A visit to 100 Acres is not your ordinary museum visit.

A photo I snapped while looking up at Type A’s Team Building (Align)

I’m already planning my next trip to 100 Acres and this time I’ll be prepared to explore the nature as well as the art.  Clothing choice is weather dependant, of course, but all terrain footwear is a must!  (An aside- If you dropped me on a deserted island and gave me a choice between a sweat-wicking, quick-drying, technical fabric outfit or an attractive, Soccer Pro companion… I’d pick the clothes every time.  Well… maybe.)

Here’s a quick rundown of the essentials I plan stuff in my backpack:

Sunglasses, sun screen, bug spray, camera, a picnic lunch, binoculars (for checking out birds), a bottle of water, a plastic bag for any trash I might produce (LNT!), a notepad and pencil, something to trade with Jessica and Michael out on Andrea Zittel’s Indianapolis Island, and maybe a book to enjoy.
My list reminds me more of gear requirements for summer camp than a museum trip.  But hey, I want to have everything I’ll need to spend a day going over, under, around and through the Park on an artful adventure.

Sara Tekula and Joe Imhoff, residents of Hawaii, started Plant a Wish with the planting of a native species of tree at their wedding, imbued with their guests well-wishes. Over time, they realized that this ‘Wish Tree’ continued to hold special meaning for them. They decided to embark on a journey to plant a native Wish Tree in the remaining 49 states with this wish:

The overall wish of the Plant A Wish project is for future generations to enjoy an abundance of biodiversity, native plants and trees, fresh air, and clean water.

They are also filming their journey, to be made into what I’m sure will be a moving documentary. I can’t wait to see how it comes out and what kinds of adventures they get themselves in to! They said every planting has had a different flavor, from small, single family plantings to huge affairs involving whole towns.

They selected the IMA, and 100 Acres in particular, because of the work that is being done in the Park already to fight invasive non-native plant species while planting local varieties, installing works of art, and educating our local communities. Our Horticulture Manager Chad Franer selected the appropriate native tree (an American Beech) and planting location (with enough distance from the beavers!)

We had a small ceremony for the planting, and the MAP Kids and some education staff joined us and contributed their wishes: some sentimental, some funny, some deeply moving. I also collected wishes from some of our fans on FaceBook and Twitter. They are all nourishing the roots of our American Beech as I type.

I thought for a while what I wanted to wish for…. what did I want to think of when I walked by this tree? The more I thought about it, I knew I could never untangle my memories of the thrill of my involvement in the opening the Park with the Wish Tree. So, my wish was simple: for Indianapolis to love 100 Acres as much as I have come to. Less than a month later and after a wildly successful opening, I would feel comfortable saying this has already come true.

Next, we placed our wishes under the tree, and rolled it in to place. We each helped to cover the root ball with some dirt. With Joe’s instruction, we also had to help ‘wake up’ the tree. Each of us took hold of the tree and we yelled together on the count of 3. Surprisingly, no one came running. This must be a horticulture secret and probably why I’ve killed all the plants I have ever interred. I’ll try it at home soon- I’m sure my neighbors will love it!

The Indiana Wish Tree is located here, along the path to Kendall Buster’s Stratum Pier, ready for your wishes as well. I hope that it will be big enough in a few years for having a picnic under. I want to thank Sara and Joe for their dedication to a thoughtful and important cause, and for selecting the IMA to be a part of it. If you would like to help them reach their goal of all 50 states, you can donate to their project or suggest a planting site.

Images courtesy of Sara Tekula. See more here.

It is certainly a bit hard to believe I am writing for the IMA Blog. My more technology savvy friends are slightly shocked. I read Meg’s entry about email. Junior high? Lord have mercy. When I was in junior high I don’t think our school owned a computer. So let’s just say I am not up on cutting edge technology. And that’s okay. My purpose is to bring you info on the horticulture side of the IMA, the truly green side, the natural world. I hope to keep you updated on happenings in our own backyard, occasionally the world’s backyard, and once in awhile my backyard. So here we go, one giant blog leap for horticulturekind.

Spring is such a fickle wench. On a Sunday she’s all pouty lips and swaying hips with warm moist breezes blowing sweet promises of swelling buds and rising sap. By Tuesday she’s throwing ice water on my horticultural genitals. Such is our relationship. I’ve been disappointed before. I’ve been hurt much more before – sometimes instead of ice water you get an army boot. Lucky me. Last year we had 80 degree days followed by a week in the 20′s. Didn’t the plants just love that? All those tender soft green tree leaves turned to brown crispy dust like you find in the bottom of the toaster. Perennials, awake early from the long Indiana winter, were all turgid from the heat-accelerated lusty growth. Then they were a flaccid brown heap on the ground in a chlorophyll cesspool. Such is the life of a Horticulturist or gardener. You better learn to roll with the punches. Fortunately there are many plants that tolerate Spring’s erratic weather swings and provide some much needed bloom in late winter and early spring. I am amazed some times how coming across some little bloom at this time of year thrills me so. All these years and the multiple times the same plant has flowered and still it gets me. I want to mention just a few of the ones you are likely to come across. And fair warning, I use scientific names.

The witchhazels (Hamamelis sp.) start in February, sometimes January. Their spidery yellow, orange, and red flowers are often fragrant as well. They do a bit of performance art based on the weather. On cold cloudy days the petals remain curled tightly. On a sunny or warm day they unfurl like miniature strips of crepe paper. It’s a delight to find them on a cold sunny winter day when walking through the gardens.

Strolling through Oldfields will allow one to chance upon the Snowdrops (Galanthus nivalis).

I remember one February afternoon lying on the dried gray and tan leaves studying the small emerald tipped petals when much to my surprise a bee come to visit it as well. It was one of those “Where the hell did that come from?” moments. The hellebores likewise bloom this time of year. Helleborus x hybridus blooms white and multiple shades of pink most of the time.

However, reds, yellows, apricots and even blacks are available. Helleborus foetidus (stinking or bear’s foot hellebore) has stalks of chartreuse blooms a foot high and more.

Striking foliage makes it a great year round plant but I love the way some blooms wear a touch of red lipstick.

All of these are easy to grow in our little corner of mid-America.

As I finish this posting the trees and shrubs are encased in a truly beautiful coating of ice. They are not hurt. Fortunately we didn’t get too much here. It won’t be long before they start pushing new growth. I hope Mother Nature doesn’t bitch-slap them back to January.