It’s difficult for me to say at which point that I most enjoy Hydrangeas. Is it when they’re at their peak bloom time? Or as they fade into their antique colors? Or, perhaps, it’s now — when the first blush of color touches each petal?
Blooms
Bloomin’ Update 25: A Weekend To Remember
Welcome to the holiday weekend. For many, it’s a time for sales and sand, barbecues and beaches. For me, it’s a time of marathon gardening. I still have so many plants that have to get into the ground — and I’m never quite sure how I end up in this position each year. I try to pace myself, but inevitably, I fall behind.
So, here is my whirlwind.
First, there is the issue of the May curse — better known as Oak pollen. It assaults me as soon as I step outside. When the wind blows, it looks like it’s raining worms — and when enough of it gathers on the ground, it looks like tumbleweeds. Actually, I’m okay with pollen when it’s on the ground. It’s when it’s in the air, in my throat, and in my eyes that I have an issue that requires a tissue. Ahhhhchooooo!
Then the Liriope needs a haircut. Last year’s growth is a little worn from the winter, but emerging in the nest are fresh green spears. With my grandmother’s scissors, which are small enough to maneuver so I don’t cut the new growth, I snip a little here and snip a little there.
Voila!
Time to plant the Dahlias. If you have Dahlias that will grow tall enough to require staking, here’s a quick tip. Plant the stake at the same time that you plant the Dahlia. This will prevent any accidental spearing of the Dahlia tuber if you place the stake later on in the season.
Joe calls me to the front yard. We have a robin’s nest in the tree, and there is a clear view of the three hatchlings. So I pulled out a ladder, climbed up, and snapped a few photos — all the while staying alert for any adult robins that might attack me. I’m a little jumpy when it comes to birds since my head has been targeted three times. But the baby robins are cute, and we are both hoping that they survive.
At last, it’s time to take a look at the reds . . .
Rose.
Gerbera Daisy.
the whites . . .
Peony.
Rhodendron.
and the blues . . .
Spiderwort.
Dive in.
and to remember that this holiday isn’t about sales and sand, barbecues and beaches, nor plantings and pollen.
Happy Memorial Day.
Bloomin’ Update 24: May Day And Night
May days are a wonder in the garden. It seems that each day there is something else budding, blooming, or fading away.
A few posts ago, I featured the gradual blooming of the first peony.
Bloomin’ Update 23: Peony Power
Call me a geek, but when I look at a peony, I can’t help but think that I’m watching the garden equivalent of the Big Bang. It’s stellar. It’s creation. It’s a miracle.
Bloomin’ Update 22: Making Love To The Camera
There are days when I no longer feel like a gardener. There are days when I feel more like a fashion photographer, coordinating colors, waiting for the perfect light, and soothing the tender egos. As I take out the camera, they’re on — strutting and seductive as they all aim to get the cover of Vogue or Elle or Better Homes and Gardens.
“Yes. That’s the shot.”
Bleeding Heart
I Canna Believe It’s You!
Once the Elephant Ears were cleaned and planted, it was time to turn my attention to Canna. Like their large-leaved companions, Canna are also over-wintered in brown paper bags filled with peat moss and then stored in the cement bunker at a steady, cool temperature. (One year, I stored them in the garage, which was too cold and too moist. The result was a smelly, mushy mess.)
For this demonstration, I’ll use my absolute most favorite Canna, “Black Knight.” The leaves are big and bold and bronzy red, with hot red blooms. And the rhizomes, well, they’re meaty. That’s right. Meaty.
Bloomin’ Update 20: Bulbalicious!
The other day when I pulled into the driveway and stepped from my car, I was overcome by the sweet perfume scent of Hyacinths. It’s a smell that I call intoxicating. In fact, I’ve referred to this scent as intoxicating so often and for so many years that it has become a sort of running joke between myself and Joe.
“Can you smell that?” I begin. “It’s . . . “
“I know, I know,” answers Joe. “It’s intoxicating.”
Now I’m thinking of breaking out of predictability with a new description for Hyacinth — and I’m going with Bulbalicious. I figure if the vernacular can work for Beyonce, why not Hyacinth?
While Hyacinth may be the headliner on the Spring stage, we mustn’t overlook the supporting bloomers. Afterall, we all know what happened to Diana Ross & the Supremes. Besides, these back-up harmonizers are all Bulbalicious in their own right.
Tulip — a little shy now, but emerging slowly.
What’s her name again? I’m not sure what to call this dainty flower, but she’s reliable.
Watch out for Muscari. With a name like that, she’s the vixen of the bunch, and she just might push Hyacinth out of the spotlight. In fact, I believe she’s exploring a film role as a tree in a Dr. Seuss movie.
At this time of year, I have all the drama and diva attitudes I can handle right in the garden. What’s that I hear? “And I am telling you, I’m not going. . . You’re gonna love me . . .”
Bulbalicious all the way.
Spring, “The Secret Garden,” and You
I cannot think of a better way to celebrate spring than with a visit to The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett’s classic piece of children’s literature about a willful girl, pain and loss, and the healing power of gardening. By the way, do not be turned off by the “children’s literature” label — it’s a story that knows no age.
I must admit that although this book was first published in 1911, I never got around to reading it – and that was a huge mistake. Yes, I am familiar with the various film interpretations, but I never treated myself to the beauty of Burnett’s written words.
My second mistake was downloading the free Kindle version. With each “page,” I found myself nodding along as Burnett captured in language all of my thoughts about gardening. And with each nod, I craved an illustration. Fortunately, the strength of the prose allowed me to paint the images in my mind.
Before The Secret Garden was published in book format, it ran as a serial – sort of like posts on a blog. To correct my mistakes, I would like to invite Frances Hodgson Burnett to be today’s guest blogger via a few spring-like passages.
Bloomin’ Update 19: The Wearin’ O’ The Green
It’s truly a green day!
I’m on my way to march and play my bagpipes in the NYC parade,
but I wanted to share some of the greenery in my neck of the woods.
Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!
Swirls of Sedum.
In a matter of warm days, the northern-growing Magnolia went from this. . .
. . . to this. So close!
Crocus make an appearance.
Bela Lugosi Daylilies greeting the sun.
Waiting For The Big O (you know, as in orchid)
That headline sums up what I felt when I spotted this orchid in a south Florida box store (rhymes with Gnome Repo). I know that an eventual move to Fort Lauderdale would require some adjustments and adaptations and learning, but nothing quite prepared me for orchid fever. From their smiling faces to their vibrant colors, from their graceful bounce to the way their blooms line up along the stem — I find myself completely entranced.
Nitty Gritty Dirt Man 