The Compost Will Wait

Gentle reader, we apologize for the tardiness of this latest installment, but life has included a flurry of activities of late and we have been on the go go go. The Provincetown gardener has recently had the semi-centennial anniversary of his birth and there was a conundrum of how to celebrate such momentous event. I told Partner that I was perfectly happy to spend hours in my cherished plot and turn the compost pile (a favorite activity). He stated unequivocally that we must mark this day with a special trip, and that, indeed, the "compost will wait".

Now, being in the midst of a finanacial crisis in this country, it did not seem prudent to be spending inordinant amounts of money (or more importantly, charging it!). So, Partner came up with the idea of redeeming all those freequent flier and credit card miles and do this as economically as possible. We had not thought of those "miles" and "points" laying fallow, and during the course of one's career, they can ecru to useable amounts. Our first criteria for choosing a destination was, "direct flight" (no lay-overs to work my last nerve) and "choose a hotel that takes points". This is a project that Partner loves. He is one of those people who finds it fascinating to research any topic in detail and come up with the ultimate solution.....and this he did. We made reservations to go to the hometown of Mariano Fortuny, the favorite painting spot of John Singer Sargent, the museum and enclave of Peggy Guggenheim, and the escape for Henry James...........we were going to Venice !

The Provincetown Gardener has traveled alot during the course of his career, and for some reason, one is never able to relax until the plane actually takes off. So Partner and I spent the seven hour flight trying to believe it was actually happening.....and when we bagan our descent into Marco Polo Airport through the dense clouds, it felt as though we were leaving reality and entering a dream. We were instructed to walk to the dock and pick up a water taxi in order to get to the hotel, but nothing prepared us for the streamlined wooden speed boat that awaited us (not to mention the Italian God driving the boat). Fantasizing we were Maria Callas and Ari on a Ventian holiday with sunglasses and sea spray, we sped across the lagoon and into the Grand Canal.

I must admit that I was somewhat jaded in my anticipation of Venice. I had spent a childhood seeing those velvet paintings with gondoliers and listening to "O solo mio" on the radio....so i was expecting something in the realm of an Italian Disney World. From the moment we stepped into the boat, all preconceptions were dissolved. My eyes were opened for the first time about what everyone had been telling me about. The boat pulled up to the dock of the Bauer Il Palazzo (a "water arrival" as Partner loves to refer to it), next to the waiting gondolas, the bags were wisked away and we were escorted to a table on the edge of the terrace with a panoramic view of Santa Maria Della Salute.....the bascilica immortalized in Sargent's watercolors. Drinking my frst cappucino of the trip, I sat in speculation that generations of tourists for hundreds of years had done exactly what I was doing now...that maybe even John Singer Sargent had painted from this very vantage point.

To say it was a trip full of miracles seems a little cliche, but it is true. The miracle of quiet; Venice has no cars or bikes, only canals and bridges.......the quiet is bliss. The miracle of fog; it stayed atmospheric and moody until about ten in the morning and then the warm Italian sun was out for the rest of the day. The miracle of an upgrade; we were put in a top floor room with a 300 degree view of the city........a bird's eye view of the steeples, campanile and the Grand Canal winding it's way through the pallazzo. The miracle of spring; bearded iris were in bloom in window boxes, wisteria fragrant and covering the pergolas.....while New York still seemed gripped by winter.

Yes, we covered all the touch points of Venice: St Marks Square, Peggy Guggenheim's museum, the Rialto Bridge...........but it was the "getting lost" that i will remember most. Partner and i found the fish market on Good Friday and the produce markets filled with unkown and fascinating vegetables.............the tiny squares with their ancient wells.........and the incredible children that all seemed so happy. We found tiny walled gardens full of camellias, azaleas, pittosporum, roses, iris, peonies and centuries old boxwood. The Italians have made an art out of container gardening; from the selection of the mossy pot to the seemingly spontaneous and unorthodox choice of plants........even if the pots were planted yesterday, they seem to have the mellow serenity of having been there forever. Ancient twisted trunks climb over medieval walls, while delicate scented hyacinths bloom in shadowy corners..........every turn of the head is a miracle.

One of the unexpected benefits of the trip was the unanticipated workout. When you consider that during the course of one twilight walk, you may cross twenty bridges........and each of these bridges has a flight of stairs up and down.......the Venetians could be considered the inventors of the stairmaster. Somehow this gave me free rein to eat as much pasta and gelato as I wanted.

As gardeners, we have an insatiable need to journey forth to investigate other gardens...to see how others deal with their worlds. Italy is an inexhaustable source of inspiration for me, and this trip to Venice will count as a most wondrous experience........from the tiniest window boxes to the grandest campos........a gardener cannot help but be changed forever.

And, YES, the compost will wait until you get home.