In his major work Sunlight as Formgiver for Architecture, Bill Lam asks thequestion . . . The Sun: Problem or Opportunity? and then proceeds to show how the answer can really be both, depending very much on the
location of the building. Clearly in hot climates where the sun is overhead for much of the day the problem is not so much one of welcome, but of exclusion.

In Britain where the sun is all too rare the answer must clearly be one of welcome, and an early decison when an architect is planning the orientation of his building is to encourage the entry of sunlight. Sunlight adds to the overall level of light when it is available, and adds to those other environmental factors such as variety and change, modelling and the creation of delight. There is a different level of experience when getting up in the morning to a sunlit world, as experienced from the interior of a building, and it is important that an element of sunlight is available for some part of the day. Architects have used the sunlight effect in buildings to create a specific

atmosphere, as for example the shafts of light entering the south side of our great cathedrals; and on a much smaller scale the use in houses of daylight and sunlight entry from above to provide necessary functional light to interior areas, where otherwise little natural light would be available. The impression of sunlight is also important seen from windows which themselves admit no sunlight, but where the view of a sunlit landscape or buildings may be enjoyed. Whenever sunlight is available there is a strong desire to perceive it, and disappointment when it is unnecessarily excluded.

There is of course the obverse side associated with heat gain and glare, depending upon the orientation of the glazing, and whether people working in a building are confined to a fixed position. The effects of direct sunlight can be a disadvantage. Some control may be required in certain circumstances at certain times of year, and as far as heat gain is concerned this is best done beyond the window, and is of a sufficiently

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I considered my ferns to be companion plants for my rhododendrons.Now, of course, the rhododendrons are the companion plants for my ferns.With their similar cultural requirements, they do indeed complement each other. There are many other options for the woodland floor, however, and here are some of my favorites.Helleborus niger and H. orientalis and their hybrids contrast splendidly with ferny foliage and in my garden offer a floral bouquet from early winter through spring.Helleborus orientalis hybrids come in many colors and new strains, including some with double flowers that are the focus of current breeding programs. They need an annual grooming but are evergreen and easy.

Both deciduous and evergreen epimediums are becoming available in an increasing assortment of foliar and floral colors. They too benefit from an annual shearing, but are extremely durable and desirable ground covers and, once established, will tolerate difficult areas of dry shade. I happen to be partial to those that produce red-tinged new leaves and find them particularly attractive with the rosy new fronds of Dryopteris erythrosora. (Back this up with a red-flowering or red-leafed rhododendron for a splendid spring picture.)

Hostas with their varied and sometimes bold leaves are favorites and make outstanding foils for the delicate tracery of fern foliage. They have compatible soil, shade, and moisture requirements and range in size from miniatures to giants.Unfortunately they have a tendency to attract slugs (so do not plant them near your aspleniums), but new strains are likely to be more resistant. Heucheras, available in ever-increasing abundance, attract hummingbirds with their flowers while providing interesting foliar patterns.Unusual color combinations feature silvers and burgundies with assorted shades of green.Most heucheras require strong light for a healthy appearance. Athyrium niponicum ‘Pictum’ (Japanese painted fern) is stunning when planted with some of the shiny deep black-red cultivars, such as Heuchera obsidian. Arisaemas, the Jacks-in-the-pulpit and friends with their unique habit and definitely unique “flowers,” give an added interest in the shade and do not challenge ferns for territory. They look best when embraced in foliage, however. A solitary plant is a lonely plant indeed. Regardless of how and how often they are planted, many of mine have a disconcerting tendency to turn their backs on their audience the following spring. Arisaema sikokianum, one of my favorites, consistently hides its loveliness in this manner

In general, pests are not a threat to ferns. Slugs and snails, never ones to miss a treat, occasionally chainsaw new spring growth, so precautions should be out early in the season. Bait should be broadcast about rather than positioned as a dinner bell adjacent toa vulnerable plant. Improved baits include several that remain potent after being wet and do not affect bird populations.

Traps with assorted lures, including beer and coffee grounds, are efficient, but not particularly attractive to clean. Aphids will land periodically and are more dangerous for their tendency to spread diseases than for eating foliage. Leafhoppers (arriving in 1998 in Washington State) appear on selected species and cultivars and can disfigure foliage, especially of the assorted and plentiful Dryopteris cultivars. These pests can be restrained, but so far not controlled, with the judicious application of a systemic insecticide. Oil-based sprays suffocate ferns and should never be used near them. I have also had poor luck with soap-based remedies. Light applications of other commercial products, especially those containing resmethrin have not harmed my ferns. All chemicals should be used with caution and tested on a nonvaluable plant (bracken perhaps) before applying them to anything special. Finally, I recommend limiting the application to the infected plant rather than spraying the entire garden to clean a few plants of their bugs, but then I am one who would rather not spray at all. Deer populations, especially on the U.S. East Coast, are a serious garden and personal (Lyme and other disease carrying) menace, although unless really starving will generally leave ferns alone. (They tend to prefer roses and other ornamentals.) How- ever they will eat whatever necessary to stay alive and, in spite of many imaginative repellent concoctions,will only avoid gardens when fenced out by a barrier at least 6 ft. (2 m) tall. Rabbits, meanwhile, consider the fern garden their personal salad bar and can and will demolish a collection over night. Given these basics, most of the temperate ferns described in this book should provide years of beauty in the woodland.An exception must be made for ornate cultivars, however. I am talking about varieties with epithets such as cristatum (crested), capitatum (with a head or large crest), ramosum (branched), ramo-cristatum, and grandiceps (with a large terminal crest). These are the soloists of the crowd. Far be it from them to harmonize in the woodland chorus. Treat them as specimen plants, placing them center stage if you choose or in a featured pot somewhere.

The ferns of the world’s drylands offer a total contrast to the stereotypical concept of fern. Seeing them growing in the wild is an amazing sight indeed. One of my earliest exposures was at a remote place called Bumblebee 4 (no, I do not know why), Arizona. In a dry gulch that would serve as a site for a cowboy’s last gasp in a western movie were assorted ferns nestled up against boulders. Here their roots reached deeply down for the minimal water source with the boulder providing a cool root run, a touch of shade, and a drop or two of morning dew.

These xerics are your cheilanthes and pellaeas and their near relatives.Many are cloaked in hairs and scales to help prevent water loss. Others have an undercoat of white or yellow farinose wax. To the xeric enthusiast these protective traits add immensely to the ferns’ beauty and charm. Not surprisingly these citizens of the desert do not settle down with ease in cultivation (which may help explain why we all want to have them to display). Soil with excellent drainage is essential and the mix must be coarse. I use lots of well-washedpumice, bark, and granite grit,with just enough loamy compost to hold it all together.

In addition, these ferns need good air circulation and, more critically, protection from winter wet. I have mine planted in half whiskey barrels under the eaves on the south side of the house. They get full sun in the winter and light shade in the heat of the summer. They do need watering, however, especially in their new growth. Cheilanthes will let you know by curling up when dry. Fortunately, unlike some of their shadeland counterparts—maidenhairs and osmundas come to mind—they will revive with a gentle shot from the hose. In California and southwestern gardens the xerics can be treated like ordinary rock
garden plants without concern for winter wet. The University of California Botanical Garden at Berkeley, a must-see garden for all fern lovers, has a remarkable display. Look for the ferns in among the cactus.

Growing ferns on walls is a step more specialized and challenging than rock gardening but may include a number of species suited for both habitats. It appears to be the only situation that will support the lifestyle of that wretchedly difficult (but beautifully photogenic) Ceterachofficinarum.

Wall dwellers tend to prefer grit rather than soil and are frequently seen peering from crevices in venerable old buildings in Britain and Europe. And what a wondrous sight they are. It is possible, however, to build a habitat for these muralists. I find it best to start with very small plants and insert them, along with some moss for temporary support, into crannies, or better yet add them as the wall is constructed.

Brick complements the fern foliage admirably, but stones are more easily managed and offer a handsome foil.The mortared joints (now crumbling) where the European sporelings settled is of an ancient type and neither available nor practical now. Instead, use a lean organic mix incorporating pumice or granite grit (tempered for lime lovers with granules of broken concrete).Until established the ferns must not be allowed to dry out, but once
thriving (says she optimistically) they need only a minimum of attention. Again, the aspleniums are adaptable candidates. Ceterach, if you can find a living plant, is outstanding when established in a sunny site, while Phyllitis and numerous polypodiums
are eminently suitable and attractive additions to shady walls. Good luck!

Ferns may be without flowers, but in their own special way many of them do have color. Lives there a gardener who does not find joy and inspiration as the garden awakens in springtime? Hepaticas, daffodils, primroses, and rhodies, usually in that order, bring life to the garden as well as the gardener. Foliage, while more subtle, enriches the springtime composition as well. And what are ferns but foliage? Fern lovers take delight in the unfurling new fronds that invite inspection and appreciation. Sturdy Polystichum crosiers emerge cloaked in coats of silver scales offering the garden design an especially striking duet in combined plantings with the matching whitish new foliage on indumentum-clad rhododendrons. Dryopteris decorate their fiddleheads with scales in blackish, rust, and bronze hues, elegant with backlighting. Many species (although strangely none from Europe) unfurl with colorful new growth.

These include the statuesque Dryopteris wallichiana (Wallich’s wood fern) with vibrant yellow to orange fronds accented by dark scales. The lower-growing, 2-ft. (60-cm) D. lepidopoda (sunset fern) displays satiny, warm coral-colored spring foliage, while D. erythrosora, the popular autumn fern and its cultivars, unfurl in a rosy copper frost that in time fades to rich green. Dryopteris koidzumiana, new in cultivation, has saturated, velvety russet new growth. The sturdy little Blechnum penna-marina, an 8-in. (20-cm) creeper, has red new growth as well. It is especially pronounced when planted in the sun where it will display the compact fronds typically seen in its alpine homelands of Chile and New Zealand. For this species, shade encourages rangy growth. On a larger scale new growth on several woodwardias and a number of the taller New Zealand blechnums is suffused with blood-red vibrancy.

The best of the woodwardias (Woodwardia unigemmata and W. orientalis var. formosana) may be on the tender side but are unfailingly ornamental. Give them affectionate care which includes protective attention in the depths of the bleak midwinter. All of the above are evergreens and join with other colorful individuals described in the text. Several common deciduous Japanese athyriums offer distinctive color that lasts throughout the season.Athyrium niponicum‘Pictum’, the popular and variable Japanese painted fern, is indeed painted in pastel shades of gray, pink, pale green, some blue, and wine. It is extremely hardy and gives life to somber shade.Names are being given to an ever-increasing, and probably excessive, number of cultivars including, among others, ‘Silver Falls’, ‘Burgundy Lace’, ‘Ursula’s Red’, and a crested form,‘Apple Court’. In addition, ‘Ghost’ and ‘Branford Beauty’, two presumed hybrids with the American lady fern, add a soft gray contrast to dark green compositions. All make a stunning statement when grouped together. (For additional impact add a plant or two of Brunnera macrophylla ‘Looking Glass’ or ‘Jack Frost’ to the composition.) While less flamboyant, the matte fronds on Athyrium otophorum (eared lady fern) bring a refreshing combination of lime foliage suffused with plum highlights.Athyrium yokoscense with its understated silver foliage adds a welcome quiet touch when centered among brilliant companions.

In the social world, fern motifs appeared early in primitive artwork and have long been used in architectural ornamentation as well. By the mid 1800s, hand in hand with the fashionable interest in the live plants themselves, enthusiasm for ferns as art spilled into every opportune and marketable manifestation from decorating chamber pots to fine china.While not as extensive, their decorative uses continue to be popular today. Scientifically,with their non-traditional reproductive system, ferns were very poorly understood botanically.Where were the flowers? And seeds? Speculation led to some fanciful theories, the most common being that the seeds, though there,were invisible. In turn this brought forth some magical connotations.

Per the Doctrine of Signatures that gave life’s issues and medical complaints a relationship with cures that were based on the visual attributes of plants, ferns with their “invisible seeds” offered, as oft quoted from Shakespeare (Henry IV, act 2, scene 1), the power to “walk invisible.” First, however, one had to catch the elusive seeds or “fairy dust.”Various theories, and one suspects a fair amount of revelry, surrounded the chase which was to be carried out on Midsummer Night’s Eve with the sprinkling of the invisible seed powers showering and ready to be caught precisely at midnight. Eventually, science caught up with the ferns. Their “dust” had long been noticed and sometimes confusedly considered as being pollen, but not otherwise related to propagation. And, as accidents will happen (and someone must be alert enough to appreciate the significance), in 1794 John Lindsay, a British surgeon stationed in Jamaica,noticed that after rains quantities of ferns emerged from freshly disturbed soil (the best incubation sites in the wild for ferns today as well). Curious, he sprinkledsome fern “dust” in a flower pot and soon discovered the development of the young plants’, liverwort-like, small heart-shaped fertile structures, known scientifically as the gametophyte (sexual) generation. In time, these produced fronds, convincing Lindsay that he had found the “fern seed.”He sent “dust”home to England along with sowing instructions, and fern propagation began in earnest at the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew as well as in horticultural and botanical circles throughout the country.Nurseryman Conrad Loddiges is credited with being an early proponent of carrying on propagation for commercial purposes and was the first to experiment with and recognize the value of shipping plants in Wardian cases some years later.

Although the discovery of the “seeds” answered some questions, true knowledge of the fern life cycle was yet several research stages later. In 1844 Karl von Nägeli, a Swiss botanist, observed and described the presence of sperms in the intermediate generation. The egg-producing female structure was in turn discovered in 1848 (and rather impressively, hybridization shortly thereafter in 1853). Thus the alternation of generations, as we know it today, became science.

Ferns grew in full sun three hundred forty-five million years ago when they were among the dominant plants on the planet. There were no trees to provide shade, and flowering plants were not to provide competition until two hundred million years later. Three hundred forty-five million years is quite a figure to contemplate, and adjusting to and surviving the earth’s intervening vicissitudes is an incredible accomplishment that much of the flora and even the dinosaurs could not manage. According to fossil records and geological theory, the impact from an asteroid led to the extinction that doomed the dinosaurs sixty-five million years ago between the Cretaceous and Tertiary eras. It also led to a temporary (geologically speaking) fern spike as the fern flora rapidly filled the barren landscape and once again became the world’s dominant plants.

Even as they apparently did historically, ferns today willingly colonize disturbed or burned areas. The reforestation on the 1980 volcanically destroyed flanks of Mount Saint Helens serves as a contemporary example. (Not surprisingly, Equisetum [horsetail] was among the leaders.) So it was that the ferns prospered and survive in variety today. Some, such as Osmunda claytoniana, believed to be the oldest continuously living fern species, can trace a family tree back two hundred million years. Others are, of course, younger (say two or three million years old, or about the same as humans). However, many of our most-familiar ferns are, at seventy-five million years old, truly juveniles, and one imagines that “new” ferns via hybridization or mutations are yet to come.

Ferns were once fairly uniformly distributed throughout the world, as evidenced by remnants of botanical relationships with prehistoric connections still in existence.On the land masses of the Southern Hemisphere, united before being separated by continental drift, South American blechnums have much in common with those of New Zealand. Eastern North American flora, including the ferns, has Japanese counterparts that were transported via ancient land bridges. Then as now, spores wafted on the air currents and were particularly significant in establishing island populations. The uniformity of the world’s floral distribution reached its zenith fifty million years ago when the earth was significantly warmer than today (envision tropicals in Greenland). It was interrupted as the ice ages developed. Plants migrated along with the warmth to the south and away from the glaciation.However, the upheavals of volcanic activity and the resultant creation of mountain ranges were influential here as well.

In North America the uplifted mountains run north to south and consequently never presented a barrier to the southward floral shift or the forward movement and retreat of glaciers. In Europe the mountains run east to west, and the ice flows and plant survival were blocked resulting in a greater degree of plant extinction.As a direct effect the numbers of natives are far fewer in Europe than in the rest of the world.

This temple is located beside north-west Yogyakarta Indonesia. Besides famous with Malioboro, Kaliurang, Parangtritis and the Palace, Yogya also keep a tour object all at once be Buddhism altar. Temple borobudur, that’s the name recorded temple as one of the seven this world miracles is they say is built in eighth century . besides recorded as biggest buddha temple at world, Borobudur has also uniqueness aloof.

This temple doesn’t has adoration spaces like temples other. existing long roads that are small street. roads are limitted wall surround level temple by level. at road road here’s ummat Buddha is estimated to do ceremony walks to surround temple towards right (pradaksima).

This temple is built when Samaratungga - King from Dynasty Syailendra rule at central java. they say this temple development consumes time half century. if seen from the air, borobudur likely appear will like flower lotus that will bloom, float above lake water. geology watchfulness proves that temple region borobudur formerly a vast lake.

Until now not yet known meaning borobudur. they say borobudur be federation from Bara word and Budur. Bara (sanskrit) mean complex temple or monastery. while budur (come from balinese, beduhur) mean above. equally, borobudur mean monastery above hill.

They say this temple is ever hiden by mount explosion Merapi (950m) and new found again in century 19 by java governor general Sir Thomas Raffles (1814). Temple Borobudur formed punden berundak, consist of six rectan formed levels. three circle round formed levels and a stupa principal as the top.