Fields of Green.

This weekend was the first of what I hope to be many autumn weather weekends here in Kansas City. The mornings were nippy, but the sun managed to keep me warm even with a cool breeze. Since H had things he wanted to do at the house (did I mention we got Google Fiber?), I decided to trek to a place called Powell Gardens. It's heralded as Kansas City's botanical gardens, and it did not disappoint.

The first thing I see after I walk past the admissions building is this giant honkin' basil bush. It looked like the happiest basil that ever did exist, and the aroma it was giving off made me want to secretly pick some and make a bruschetta sandwich right then and there.

There were actually a whole row of them, including some gorgeous purple basil, lining the walkway.

Next to all of that basil was this giant mess of flowers (I mean that in a beautifully disorganized way) with no signage whatsoever, so I can only guess what these varieties are. At any rate, if I was in a band this would be my cover art for our first album. There were a number of butterflies roaming around, and a straight up gang of bumblebees, but every time I got close to them they would flip out and hightail it to a more discrete bud.

At first I was nervous that the bees might decide I looked like a tasty treat, but then I realized there were literally thousands of tasty treats all around me. These bees would have to be psychotic to try and sniff me. And that made me relax quite a bit. It was around this time that I texted H, I might stay here forever. So serene.  To which he replied, It was nice knowing you. What a wonderful guy.




The garden had a section for conifers and evergreens, and I've decided I'm going to adopt the very next available Weeping Eastern Red Ceder orphaned treeling. This guy was about four feet high and its branches flowed like a waterfall. A waterfall of photosynthesis. I wonder if it has tiny weeping pine cones in the wintertime.

On the left we have some kind of tropical flower with a bird-of-paradise feel. Okay, okay, so there wasn't a sign telling me what the species was. But it's a really cool looking flower.  And on the right we have the world's largest leeks, about thirty of them, growing together as an army of onion soldiers. There weren't a ton of people in the gardens, so I wonder if I had picked one and put it in my satchel if anyone would notice.

In the lower left section of the gardens (that's southwest for all of you absolute north compass people) was a four-some of designs filled with the edible varieties of plants (leeks above included). There were a few of these wooden structures put into place to help the vine dwellers expand their territory. I liked this particular one for its scenic view of the barn and granary at the boundary of the grounds.

I looked at this structure for a good long while before I realized they may be blackberries. Although, this isn't how I imagined blackberries growing. I figured them for more of a bush variety, but perhaps they are more apt to growing more like raspberries up a vine. 

For some reason these dahlias were mixed in with the vegetables section of the farming grid. They're gorgeous specimens, and I do believe they would make an excellent study for watercolors. At least for practice with colors.  The lonely persimmon on the right was just sitting on the stone wall bordering the vegetable garden. This was yet another case where I wondered if anyone would see me picking a perfectly ripe persimmon off of the persimmon tree, but I thought better of it (I'm convinced they have camouflaged cameras hidden in the bushes recording your every move). This would also make a neat study in light and dark watercoloring. It reminds me of the still life work artists did post-Renaissance. 

After making my rounds through the garden of foods, I backtracked past the admissions building and meandered through the right half (that's east if you're a compass toter) of the hundred acre woods. I searched all over but could not find a sign for this species. What gorgeous leaves and intensely vibrant floral plumes. It's like Vulpix and Bulbasaur had a beautiful nature baby, but never named it.  If I had to rank them, this would be my second favorite flower of the day. 

This plant was part of a spectacular grouping - ginormous dark elephant ears, ornamental pepper plants, some purple trumpet flower, and a sweeping magnolia to keep everything shaded. If I had a million dollars, I'd hire a groundskeeper to maintain an exact replica of this sidewalk path. I'd visit it every day and make sure there were no spiders intruding into my perfect sanctuary. 

I realize that succulents are everywhere, and design people are using them like they're a dollar bill at dollar hot dog night, but this was an exceptional display of them. People say that succulents are difficult to kill, considering all they need is sunlight and water every now and then, but I can confidently say that it can be done. I managed to do it. I managed to forget about the one type of plant you could forget to water and they would live - but they died just to spite me.

At any rate, these ones seem to be doing very well for themselves. I'll just back away slowly before they realize what power I have over water-retaining species.

Speaking of succulents, this trio is part of the largest Living Wall in the United States. Stones with potting soil between them, plus some hardy rock climbing, drought-resistant dudes equals one really cool spectacle. These guys make me want to go out and buy some desert babies and give it a second try. How hard could it be?

These two guys were sitting right next to one another. The one on the right reminds me of my mom, since she likes lilies and hydrangeas, and this seemed to be right up that alley. 

This. This structure was part of the biggest lie. On the handy dandy map it said there was a water fountain just to the left of this overhanging structure. I marched halfway around the world to the left, then a quarter of the world up just to reach the tallest spot in all the gardens, all for the promise of a water fountain. I'm glad I was alone, because when I reached the top I probably looked like a lunatic, crouching around all four corners of the shady area, searching for even a children's fountain to drink from.

Well, now I was on top of the hill. I could either go back down the way I came, or I could follow the sketchy woodchip trail to my left and see where it leads me.

The trail forked about fifty feet down to a scary path and a sunny path. This was the scary woodchip path I decided to take. After this set of bushy brambles it opened up a little on the left towards a meadow with high grass, and on the right was a babbling brook. No really, it just wouldn't be quiet.

I walked the length of the path and found that this was the back entryway into the gardens via trolley. There was a trolley seat and everything, but no other path to take, so I had to go back. On my way back, I noticed that the light coming through the tall trees was absolutely beautiful. It gave everything that sun-kissed radiance you see in professional photography. I took far more pictures from this point on, but I won't bore you with every single shot.

I can't get over how ethereal this golden flowering tall grass is. I'm sure it's just some common meadow grass that I would normally overlook doing sixty on the highway, but when it's just you and nature your perspective changes.

On the left we have a delicate teacup variety of lily, found growing in the most shady and muddy portions of the gardens. On the right, my main draw was the tiny, pine-needle looking shrub, surrounded by vivid purple blossoms and that creeping fire flower vine. 

Did I mention how awesome the light was? I'm taking pictures of the bricks, people. That's how crazy incredible it was. This is going to be the background on my phone for the foreseeable future.

By and by I might observe that 90% of these photos are what the kids these days are saying, hashtag no filter. It was seventy degrees all day, a cool breeze kept me from really sweating even in the bright sun, and there were about twenty other people in the hundred acre woods with me. 

This, I believe, was my favorite flower of the day. It's not quite so complicated as others I saw, but it has the perfect red-pink bloom, and the leaves resemble that almighty succulent. I tried to get a selfie with it, but alas, my selfie skills are not quite up to snuff. There was one that looked like a cross between Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime daaaaaawwl and a really bad roller coaster freeze frame.

 At the end of my adventure was a pavilion with stonework steps leading to the lake, and a wooden canopy with interwoven vines overhead providing the perfect amount of shade.

I spent a few minutes here, lost in thought contemplating my existence, wondering how it was all these millions of plant species can survive in one city with a little care and know how, when my stomach grumbled and I realized it was just about dinner time.

What an incredible day in Kansas City. I think the cold front reached my peeps back in Dallas, so I hope everyone back home enjoyed their sub one-hundred-degree weather. As for me, I think I'm going to like Autumn in KC.