Alexandra477

Inniswood Metro Gardens and the Art of the Enchanted Escape

            Until yesterday, I thought that magical forests existed only in fairytales. Then I discovered Inniswood Metro Gardens, whose lavish and playful world has made me a believer of supernatural nature. 

 

 

 

 

Part of Columbus Metro Parks, Inniswood serves up 123 acres of horticultural heaven. It belonged to sisters Grace and Mary Innis, who donated the Westerville estate to the city in 1972. Streams, woodlands, wildflowers, wildlife, waterfalls, and 2,000 plant species burst through the grounds like a giant rooted fireworks display. More than 300 members and volunteers help keep the area in optimal condition.

 

 

 

 

Among Inniswood’s most mystical nooks are the Rose Garden, Woodland Rock Garden, Herb Garden, Fern Garden, Circle Garden, and Conifer Garden. Six walking trails zigzag the premises, with names like Chipmunk Chatter Trail and Frog Talk Walk. The Sisters’ Garden is a children’s garden with a story maze depicting the Native American tale Earth on Turtle’s Back.

 

 

 

 

 

Inniswood is open daily from 7:00 a.m. to dark. In an effort to connect people with nature, it offers nature education programs, where you can learn about everything from bluebirds and dragonflies to drying flowers and growing micro greens. It also hosts special events including concerts, yoga classes, and tai chi sessions.

 

 

 

 

                   If you’re seeking a place to hide out, rest up, and rekindle some childlike wonder, this is it.

 

 

 

 

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Schnormeier Gardens

Schnormeier Gardens

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I recently planted my first garden. To me, the world of greenthumbery is a thrilling, endless place of hope and contemplation. I feel so giddy thinking about it that I have to run up and down the stairs to burn energy. It wasn’t always like this. I used to wilt plants just by looking at them, and it baffled me how people wasted their Sundays (and hard earned paychecks) in yards and nursery stores. I’m now officially one of those people. I constantly check out other people’s yards and ask for pointers. I borrow gardening books from the library and have resolved to save my pennies for flowerpots. It’s a lot of work, but nothing is as purely peaceful as a garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Ted and Ann Schnormeier have nine of them. On 75 acres. And once a year for a few days in June, they open Schnormeier Gardens to the public for free to share their love of greenery with all who care to experience it. Located at their Frank Llyod Wright-inspired home in Gambier, Ohio, the gardens began in 1996. They draw deep inspiration from Asian culture and feature a Japanese teahouse, Chinese pavilion, bridges, waterfalls, ponds, rock walls, lotus, water lilies, rare conifers, and more than 50 sculptures. This year’s open house ended yesterday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some people believe that gardens have souls. I agree.

How I Made Peace with an Alligator.

I’ve been afraid of alligators my whole life. As a child, I had recurring nightmares that an evil, hungry alligator hid behind a tree and chased me around the woods. This could have been a fathomable dream for a kid living in Baton Rouge, but Stamford, Connecticut wasn’t known for its surplus alligator population. Nonetheless, I was terrified, and my father brought home Izod shirts and a giant stuffed pink alligator toy in an effort to soothe my debilitating panic.

“See?” Dad said. “Alligators are friendly! They’re even smiling on your shirts.”

I didn’t buy it, and spent the next three decades shrouded in fear. When I first met my husband’s family many years ago in Ohio, it was at an alligator-themed party. There was an alligator cake and alligator décor, and everyone wore alligator nametags. If you think that paper plates can’t be scary, you are wrong.

It was time for me to wrangle my fear by the tail, so during a recent trip to Naples, Florida, I made the (shockingly brave) decision to (willingly) encounter an alligator. I started at the Naples Botanical Garden. Then I tried Freedom Park, followed by Koreshan State Park. No luck. By the time I got to the Conservancy of Southwest Florida, I just wanted to get it over with. As I entered the grounds, my life’s milestones flashed before me. I can leave now, and no one would know. I could drive to Dairy Queen and forget this whole thing ever happened.

Somehow, I sallied forth. I inhaled deeply, trudged into that nature center and approached a Conservancy volunteer. 

“I’d like to see an alligator, please,” I squeaked. 

And then I found myself peering at one.

Maybe he was 10 inches long and swimming around a cute little tank, but soon he’ll be a six footer lounging in a marsh. I’ll probably wonder if he wants to have me for dinner, and he’ll probably be recovering from nightmares about saucer-eyed humans. Baby steps.

 

 

Hocking Hills.

There are hundreds of things to love about Hocking Hills. One of them is that it’s out of cell phone and Wi-Fi range. You can travel to cities all over the world and stay plugged in, but an hour southeast of Columbus there’s no choice but to unwind. We recently hit the hills for three precious days and left our laptops at home. Yes, at home. During our stay, we:

Roamed for miles at Cedar Falls and Conkle’s Hollow.
    Embraced the stillness of Rose Lake.
    Journeyed through the past at the Logan Antique Mall.
    Used every chance to gaze at stars.
    Visited the Pencil Sharpener Museum.
    Echoed our voices through the walls of Rock House.
    Nestled by the fire with 40s crime novels.
    Ate fried bananas and played Scrabble.
    Talked to horses and laughed at woodpeckers.
    Enjoyed breathing crisp air.
    Discovered a Civil War cemetery along a quiet road.

So much can happen when you trade life’s bustle for the rustling of leaves.

 

Grange Audubon Center.

When it comes to birds, I’m what you might call “challenged.” I know that Big Bird is nice, being flipped the bird is not nice, and avoiding bird poop on your head is good.  I can’t tell a Blue-Breasted Kingfisher from a Trumpeter Hornbill and I only watched The Big Year because Steve Martin was in it. Yesterday, however, I upped my bird game with a visit to the Grange Insurance Audubon Center. On my way inside, a precocious 10-year-old saw the camera dangling from my neck and mistook me for a birder. “A Yellow Finch is hanging out by the rain garden if you want to photograph it,” he said. “And there’s a snapping turtle inside. Don’t put your hand in the tank though.”

Oh my God, I thought. This kid knows real names of actual birds. What the heck is a finch? And why can’t I pet the turtle?

I played it cool. “Thanks,” I said. “Yeah, I figured there’d be one over there so I’ll just go take a quick shot.”

Naturally, the little yellow maniac scurried to the highest branch when he sensed my oafishness. I thought I heard him chirp “You have to earn this.”

The Audubon Center opened three summers ago. Nestled in Scioto Audubon Metro Park, it’s the first U.S. Audubon Nature Center to be built so close to the heart of a big city. Admission is free, and at least 212 bird species have been sighted there. The building itself is Green Certified and acts as a working model of sustainability and energy efficiency. It contains recycled construction materials, geothermal wells that use the earth’s temperature to provide heating and cooling, low-flow plumbing, walkways and courtyards made of permeable concrete to increase rain recharge, and an angled roof that collects and distributes rainwater. Never have I experienced a place that’s as educational and environmentally conscious as it is peaceful.

I’m coming for you, Little Finchie. One of these days, I’ll catch you off guard and take your picture. Just don’t poop on my head.

 

Interactive Hanging Garden in Franklinton.

Alternative ad agency CivitasNow just installed an interactive hanging garden outside of Dinin’ Hall at 400 West Rich in Franklinton. Designed to promote social living and creative urban growing, the “cube garden” features 16 burlap-covered crates filled with tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers. Visitors are welcome to tend and water the plants — and pluck vegetables from them. Dinin’ Hall opened in May and is the first street food hub in Columbus.

During the last Pecha Kucha Columbus event at Eartha Limited in May, CivitasNow built a warehouse garden installation with 100 veggie containers. The plants were strewn throughout the space in baskets, Campbell’s Soup cans, and Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams cartons and given to attendees to take home. CivitasNow also gave away 150 seedlings of sweet basil, cilantro, mint, peas, eggplant, carrots, and beets in White Castle slider boxes.

According to CivitasNow co-founder Jacob Taylor, the goal of these imaginative giveaways is to foster eco-friendly ways of living and working. “We wanted to demonstrate how easy independent food production can be,” he said.    

 

Blooms, Butterflies, and Quitting Plastic Flowers.

Until last month, it wouldn’t have occurred to me to willingly visit a greenhouse or botanical garden. I’m a founding member of the Black Thumb Club, meaning that I struggle to keep plastic plants alive. You know those “fail-proof” orchids that thrive on three ice cubes a week? I’ve killed five of them. But a few weeks ago, seemingly out of nowhere, I started weeding and planting with fury. And I liked it. 

Our modern planet is wonderfully connected, but it’s easy to feel trapped by technology. Sometimes I need to disentangle from the wires and focus on things that transcend status updates, like playing in the dirt. Yesterday, amid a fit of technological suffocation, I zipped over to the Franklin Park Conservatory to see the Blooms & Butterflies exhibit. For one hour, I marveled at the wizardry of patterns in nature and forgot all about to-do lists. Plastic flowers: Love you, mean it — but we both knew this wasn’t going anywhere.

Blooms & Butterflies is on display through September 3, and there are butterfly releases at 1:00 and 3:00 p.m. daily. Click here for more photos.

 

Wildlights at The Columbus Zoo.

I keep hearing people say they can’t get into the holiday spirit. The 24^th annual Wildlights display at The Columbus Zoo opened on Friday night and is a pretty fantastic way to kick-start those fuzzy season feelings. With millions of energy-saving LED lights and a new Global Celebrations animated light show, Wildlights reminds us that smidges of childlike glee are buried in all of us. It’s impossible to stroll amongst the glistening pathways and animatronic arbors and not feel your heart grow three times its size. Wildlights runs through January 1. Click here for more photos.

      

Hocking Hills.

I used to laugh at Leaf Lookers. You know, those nature gulpers who live for ogling fall foliage with cameras dangling from their necks. I didn’t get why they eschewed Halloween parties and haunted houses for the likes of leaves. But then the darndest thing happened: I became the very thing at which I used to snicker. My birthday was this past weekend and I found myself with an itch that only autumn leaves could scratch. Nature called, and she wasn’t going to hold. I was overcome by metaphors. We changed our plans, rented a cabin, and scrambled to Hocking Hills for a last-minute getaway. At Hocking Hills State Park, we hiked through Cantwell Cliffs and Old Man’s Cave. We cooked spaghetti and soaked in a moonlit hot tub. We watched It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and The Nightmare Before Christmas. Amid the crisp forest air, crunchy gold leaves, and a few chocolate cupcakes, I felt fully restored. And very much like a Leaf Looker. Click here for more photos.

 

 

Harrison Park Grand Opening.

It’s not every day that we welcome a new city park in Columbus, let alone one facing the Olentangy River. Yesterday afternoon members of the Harrison West Society, Columbus Recreation and Parks, and Wagenbrenner Development, along with Mayor Michael Coleman, officially dedicated Harrison Park. At the corner of West First Avenue and Harrison Park Place, this stunning green space took a mighty dose of public-private partnerships and nearly nine years to bring to life. The park connects to the Olentangy Trail and rests on the site of a former factory that was torn down in 2004. With a Tuscan-style gazebo, bold sculptures designed by Columbus College of Art & Design students, and a playground named Funk-ee-town in honor of deceased Harrison West advocate Mary Funk, this place was well worth the wait. Click here for more photos.

              

Actors’ Theatre + Harvest Pizzeria.

What better way to enjoy A Midsummer Night’s Dream than under the stars in the middle of the summer, armed with with an impossibly tasty pizza? Last night, we unfurled our blanket and claimed a tiny corner of Schiller Park in German Village to watch Actors’ Theatre of Columbus present a superbly acted rendition of William Shakespeare’s playful tale. On our way, we swung by the newly-opened Harvest Pizzeria to pick up a Margherita pie made with local and organic ingredients. Each perfect, doughy bite was better than the last, and we found ourselves repeatedly opening our empty pizza box with silly (but very real) hopes that more slices would magically reappear. In its 30^th season, Actors’ Theatre will perform A Midsummer Night’s Dream through July 31, and Oedipus Rex from August 4 to September 4.

                 

Scioto Mile.

When my family first moved to Columbus in 1990, we lived downtown by the Scioto River. The area bustled with sparkly Midwest energy, tall buildings reflecting off the water, and super cool laser light shows. But then suburban utopias exploded on all sides of I-270, and downtown became emptier than school on a Sunday. It was an apocalyptic shell of its former self. Thankfully, huge strides have been made to not only reenergize downtown, but redefine it — all in time for the City’s 200th birthday next year.

Yesterday afternoon kicked off the grand opening celebration of the Scioto Mile, a downtown revitalization project featuring a 4.7-acre riverfront park, Promenade, permanent stage, restaurant, and fountain. Managed by Columbus Recreation & Parks, the Scioto Mile runs from the Arena District to the Whittier Peninsula. The Columbus Downtown Development Corporation (CDDC) has spent more than $40 million bringing this project to life. The 15,000-square-foot fountain contains nearly 1,000 computer-programmed jets and will be open on Wednesdays with all sorts of free kids activities. Additional plans for the Promenade include benches, swings, gardens, card and chess tables, and free Wi-Fi. Free concerts and movies will be held in Bicentennial Park. Milestone 229, the new “approachable comfort food” eatery created by the owners of Columbus Brewing Company Restaurant, has a 2,000-square foot patio facing all of the action.

For those of us who hold Downtown Columbus close to our hearts, this couldn’t be a more exciting time.

          

Community Garden At 4th And 4th.

A new community garden is taking shape at 1101 North Fourth Street, and yesterday we happily attended a Memorial Day Cookout in its honor. Filled with locavores, eco-minded citizens, and plain up good people, it’s the kind of place you feel good about having less than a mile from your house. In addition to the garden, the adjacent micro-warehouse space recently started frothing home-brewed beer and will soon host community-minded events. Memorial Day is about honoring those who have served our country, so it felt perfect to celebrate something that will benefit our neighborhood.

    

Eartha Limited.

When I was a kid, I secretly envied garbage men. Unlike me, they were allowed to stand on the edges of moving trucks and were entrusted with hauling away sacred remnants of people’s lives. In my mind, this entailed things like torn-up diary pages, shredded portions of Swiss bank statements, and photographic evidence of clandestine love affairs. Nowadays, there’s no denying that waste management is an essential part of our daily lives. How we process every particle of our waste — from books and cell phones to glass bottles and cardboard boxes — is absolutely critical to the health of our bodies and our planet.

This afternoon, I toured Eartha Limited, a sustainable waste management company that opened last July. Located in a warehouse on the Whittier Peninsula, it provides sustainability for the Columbus food service industry through environmentally friendly practices. It increases public awareness of waste reduction, educates food service employees about contemporary removal/reuse methods, and collaborates with Central Ohio nonprofit organizations to help members of our community learn about waste sustainability. Every element of this place is reused, recycled, repurposed, and respected.

This is where magic happens. Thank you, Mike Minnix, for leading such a crucial charge. Eartha is as inspiring as it is vital. Who knew that trash could be so beautiful?

               

Paige's Produce Fall Open House.

It just ain’t fall in Ohio until you pick out your pumpkin. Some years, it takes me hours and multiple reconnaissance missions to find the perfect ball of orange loveliness. But during today’s annual fall open house at Paige’s Produce in Stoutsville, my pumpkin found me immediately. I will love him, carve him, and roast his little seeds. The autumnal festivities also included a straw maze, apple cider press, homemade bean soup, and Brezel pretzels. We have participated in a CSA program with the farmers at Paige’s Produce for the past three years. Click here to find out why. 

       

Earth Day Columbus 2010.

This afternoon, for one glorious hour, I set aside my laptop and agenda to visit the Earth Day festivities at Franklin Park Conservatory. Organized by Green Columbus, the event was impressively and lovingly orchestrated. It featured local food vendors, musicians, and environmentalists who believe in celebrating our beautiful Mother Earth, promoting peaceful unity, and spreading gobs of good vibes. Plus, the entire festival was waste-free...meaning that everything was recycled or composted. It was just one more instance in which I felt proud to be a resident of Columbus, Ohio. Click here for more pictures.

    

My New Buds.

Three years ago I planted a lilac tree in my front yard. This week it sprouted its inaugural blooms and I did a cartwheel. This is the first time that I planted something that actually grew, other than the rumor that Columbus was getting a professional basketball team. Once I planted my fist in the face of a shoe salesman who tried to force the world’s ugliest saddle shoes on my feet.

This is major. I will go outside and admire my little lavender lovelies every day. I will name my tree and tell her stories. Maybe I’ll plant other things like daisies or snapdragons. And maybe someday I’ll run a garden club and be invited to enlighten prospective horticulture students about the molecular techniques of plant biology. Hey, it could happen. At least not everyone can say they’ve been kicked out of Stride Rite.

CSA Programs.

Twice in the last week I’ve been in meetings where people asked about my participation in a CSA program. Since CSA’s have been getting a lot of attention and this will mark my third year being a part of one I wanted to explain why I do it.

CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture (or Community Shared Agriculture or Community Sustained Agriculture). Basically it’s an alliance that you form with a small-scale farm in your community. Once a week during the growing season (May through October-ish) you pick up a crate of freshly harvested vegetables, fruit, flowers…and in some cases eggs and meat. Many farmers offer full or half shares depending on how many people live in your household. You sign a contract and pay for everything up front, so if your farmer’s crops get weakened or destroyed because of weather or other disasters you share the burden.

There are several reasons why I believe in this concept. It lets me know exactly where my produce comes from and connects me to the earth. It encourages me to cook pesticide-free vegetables that are in season and makes me appreciate the innately pure colors and textures of “real” food. Thanks to my CSA once a week I visit a farmers market filled with community-minded people, and once a week I see my farmer (or his wife or one of their children) and feel like we’re all winning.

Groundhog.

I never thought of myself as an animal killer. I don’t eat veal and am offended by fur coats. I’m no card-carrying member of PETA and I don’t carry spiders outside in little cups, but I always believed that animals had souls and should be respected.

Until I met Bastard.

Bastard is a groundhog who has been living at my boyfriend’s house for the past year. Some groundhogs dig one or two holes when they invade the side of someone’s home, but Bastard is a four-hole kind of rodent. He’s a dig-all-night, chew-through-all-of-your-cables kind of mongrel. And I was put on earth to destroy him.

My boyfriend is selling his house to move in with me. It’s very exciting yet means that a certain something needs to be eliminated so we can move some real estate. We tried humane things like setting out traps and baggies of fox urine to convince the little destroyer to relocate, but that’s not how Bastard rolls. With Bastard, it’s all or nothing. And with groundhogs, war means smoke bombs.I thought I’d feel badly when Orkin Man dropped that stick of dynamite in Bastard’s favorite hole. I thought I might cry. Instead a huge rush of adrenaline swooped over me (much like the smoke enveloped Bastard’s evil little bachelor pad) and I found myself pumping my fists. Orkin Man thought we had him. I pictured the smoke filling Bastard’s little bastard lungs and suffocating him, and it made me smile. I thought of him trying to dig his way out to apologize and swear never to come near these parts again, and I laughed out loud. My only mission was to ensure that sucker fried.

A few days later after Bastard happily re-dug all of the holes that we filled up, an angry Orkin Man deployed another smoke bomb. This time I pictured Bastard clutching his throat and squeezing out a couple of pirouettes before crashing to the ground.

I still don’t know if Bastard is dead. I hear phantom digging and see him sneering in my dreams. What worries me is my manic obsession with ending his life. But after surveying the extermination products at Lowe’s, I learned that I’m not alone. There are others like me with rodents like Bastard. I read with glee promises like “Guaranteed to Kill” on bottles with pictures of headless moles and upside down mice. This weekend I’ll be watching “Caddyshack” with a crossbow in one hand and some beef jerky in the other.