In last week’s column, I referred to my tendency to throw my big-mouthed support at some of the hidden jewels around town without spending much (or any) time actually being there.
The Bloedel Conservatory, for example. Breathtaking spot, but if you’re a busy little bee like me (a bit on the bumble side), it’s not a spot you’re likely to spend much time buzzing around.
Then there’s Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden. Lovely, serene, peaceful, even after that band of predatory otters ate all the koi.
Right here in North Vancouver: Park & Tilford Gardens at the Park & Tilford mall. If you’re looking for a place that’s reliably splendid and crowd-free, you’ve come to the right place. And it’s right next to JJ Bean.
As I write, this week is the 50th anniversary of Park & Tilford Gardens. If you’re interested in learning more about the storied history of the site, I highly recommend Ben Bengtson’s recent piece in the North Shore News.
If you’re interested in a sane, quiet refuge in an insane world, I suggest you just turn up. It’s free and open until the sun goes down.
Apart from being the nation’s only free botanical garden surrounded by shopping, Park & Tilford is a little miracle of nature and nurture in perfect harmony.
I wandered into the garden not long ago, and was relieved and gratified that it is still there, with its magnificent grandiflora magnolia, its otter-free Oriental garden, native garden, complete with totem poles, and roses everywhere.
Guilty pleasure: it was not empty, but it was definitely not crowded. These days you’re challenged to find a nature trail or garden that doesn’t feature a horde of people looking at their phones. Here, it’s mercifully horde free, although I have to admit, it’s a great place to take a selfie with a junior giant redwood.
When I first moved to Vancouver back in the ’80s and was beset with a mania to see everything deemed an attraction, I discovered the gardens inadvertently while going to the movies, which are two doors to the left. I don’t remember the movie, but I will never forget the magnificent magnolia tree. For a kid who grew up in Winnipeg, where the closest thing to a magnolia is a Manitoba maple, this sub-tropical canopy of splendour is proof we really do live in Lotus Land. And we’re happy to be here.
The kicker is that these gardens are outside. As I write, it’s -33 in my hometown and the only things that grow are the snow banks. At Park & Tilford, the blossoms are starting to bud. You live here for a while, and the thrill of that starts to dissipate in a remorseless melange of gridlock and rain, but it all comes roaring back during a stroll through Park & Tilford Gardens.
Designed as they were in the unenlightened ’60s, the gardens have not yet completely capitulated to the botanically correct trend toward eliminating all non-native species from view. There is, of course, the native garden which features plants native to southwestern B.C., but there are all kinds of spectacular specimens from around the planet, including an awe-inspiring Japanese maple and the aforementioned magnolia. Meanwhile, I continue to subversively resist the idea that holly is an “invasive species.” Sure it is, but during the holidays it’s still festive to go out and gather the offending sharp shrubbery that grows nowhere else in Canada.
Places like Park & Tilford Gardens are beacons of hybrid beauty. Of course, we’re spoiled. It’s still, as North Shore Rescue will wearily confirm, really easy to get lost in an awe-inspiring fully natural wilderness 15 minutes from the Lynn Canyon parking lot. In a 10-minute jog from my complex, I can commune with Granda Capilano, an 800-year-old fir tree, with a diameter that’s nearly three metres around, suitable for hugging.
But on display at Park & Tilford is something equally as precious and just as endangered – the harmonious blend of nature and human artifice. Right now, the state of the gardens appears secure as it is guarded by a municipally appointed oversight committee, the FOGs, or Friends of the Gardens, and mall management. But nothing is guaranteed, especially in this era of notion as news, when somebody could easily decide that it’s culturally inappropriate to grow all this stuff together in one place.
Nothing surprises me anymore.
Actually that’s not true. Park & Tilford Gardens surprises me – in a good way – every time I walk through the gate.
Happy 50th, P&T!
Journalist and communications consultant Paul Sullivan has been a North Vancouver resident since the fall of the Berlin Wall and the rise of Madonna. [email protected]
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