Sunday Dinner: The Art of Memory

February 2017 Powhatan Creek

~

“When people look at my pictures
I want them to feel
the way they do
when they want to read a line of a poem twice.”
.
Robert Frank

~

March 2016

~

“The Earth is Art,
The Photographer is only a Witness ”
.
Yann Arthus-Bertrand

~

April 2018

~

“What I like about photographs
is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever,
impossible to reproduce.”
.
Karl Lagerfeld

~

May 2018

~

“When words become unclear,
I shall focus with photographs.
When images become inadequate,
I shall be content with silence.”
.
Ansel Adams

~

June 2017

~

“Taking pictures is savoring life intensely,
every hundredth of a second.”
.
Marc Riboud

~

July 2018

~

“While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us
nothing more than what we see with our own eyes,
there is another in which it proves to us
how little our eyes permit us to see.”
.
Dorothea Lange

~

August 2018

~

“To the complaint, ‘There are no people in these photographs,’
I respond, There are always two people:
the photographer and the viewer.”
.
Ansel Adams

~

September 2017

~

Photos by Woodland Gnome 2014-2018

~

October 2014

~

“Photographers tend not to photograph what they can’t see,
which is the very reason one should try to attempt it.
Otherwise we’re going to go on forever
just photographing more faces and more rooms
and more places.
Photography has to transcend description.
It has to go beyond description to bring insight into the subject,
or reveal the subject, not as it looks,
but how does it feel?”
.
Duane Michals

~

October 2014

Advertisements

Six on Saturday: Camping Out Indoors

This is one of our favorite Alocasias, often called African Mask. It spends winter in the living room and summer in a shady part of the garden.

~

We love big and colorful leaves in our summer garden, and we end up growing a pretty good collection of tropical plants each year that can’t make it through our coldest winter nights outdoors.  By the end of October, we are deciding which plants will get to camp out inside for the winter, and where (and how) they will overwinter.

~

This Alocasia, originally from Trader Joe’s, wasn’t labeled. It reminds me of A. ‘Regal Shields,’ but grows a bit larger.  It died back to its tuber in the basement last winter.  This winter it is still in growth in our sunny garage.

~

Some plants get to grow on in their pots in our sunny living spaces.  They will stay comfortably warm from November through April or May.  Aside from living with a little less light than they’d like, they have a good winter of continued growth and minimal disruption.  I continue to fertilize many of these plants to encourage winter blooms.

Others come into the garage.  It is a good deal chillier, and they get even less light.  But they remain active, with very little new growth, and most manage to survive the winter.  I water these only as needed to keep their soil barely moist, and don’t apply any fertilizer until the weeks before they move back outdoors.

~

Begonias live in our garage and living room through the winter.  Some may lose their leaves, but often return from their rhizomes in the spring.  this one is growing well this winter and is still producing new leaves.

~

A few sturdier plants, Alocasias, Zantedeschias and Colocasias, are re-potted into much smaller quarters and overwinter in the basement near a window.  Most of those that get this treatment have a dormant period built into their annual life cycle and are at least marginally hardy here in Zone 7.

I spare them a real period of freezing temperatures and make sure that they stay barely moist through winter.  They lose most, or all of their leaves and may survive as a tuber with a few active roots.  The Zantedeschias we are overwintering this way have continued to throw out sturdy new leaves, reaching for the feeble winter light from our basement windows.

~

Begonias with Caladium ‘Moonlight’. Cane Begonias can be overwintered in vases of water as cuttings. Once the stem has roots, it can be potted up in a much smaller pot, indoors, until time to plant it outside in late April.  Cuttings of this Begonia rest on my kitchen counter, waiting for spring.

~

Finally, most of the Caladiums and some Zantedeschias go fully dormant in November, with all leaves and roots dying back.  Once their tubers have dried out, I pack them away in rice hulls, in bags, and put them in an out of the way spot indoors for the winter.

They slumber through winter without any moisture or light, and must be re-awakened each spring by planting them in moist soil.  They send out all new growth each spring and are ready to back out doors in May or June.

~

Caladium ‘Burning Heart’ was a newcomer to our garden this summer.  Its tubers are resting, waiting for me to wake them up next month.

~

The alternative to going to all of this trouble would be to treat our beautiful summer tropical plants like annuals, allowing the frost to kill them each fall and starting over with new plants each spring.  Some gardeners may go this route, especially if you don’t have the space indoors to let the plants camp out in comfort for a few months.

It would be an outrageous expense for us, and there isn’t a guarantee that you will even find the plants in spring to replace those lost.  We lost our Alocasia ‘Stingray’ last winter, and then didn’t find it in any catalogs for spring.  We were delighted to find A. ‘Stingray’ in Brent and Becky Heath’s spring catalog, and have several on order.

So every fall we bring as many as we can indoors, care for them through the winter, and then begin moving them all back outside again in April.  They may look a bit worse for the winter in doors, but all soon grow new foliage and perk up in the sunshine to enjoy another summer of beauty and growth.

~

Zantedeschia, calla lily, blooming last June.

~

Woodland Gnome 2019

Many thanks to The Propagator for hosting Six on Saturday each week.

 

 

Fabulous Friday: Changes in the Air

~

Do you remember stories from your childhood about ‘Jack Frost’ turning the leaves bright colors ?  I remember stories and poems about Jack Frost, and making Crayola drawings with a wild assortment of brightly colored leaves on my brown stick trees.  It seems a ‘given’ that leaves change their colors when the nights begin to turn cool.

But neither our nights nor our days have cooled substantially, and yet the community is definitely taking on autumn’s hues.

~

~

We noticed it as we drove across College Creek today, admiring the first hints of yellow and gold in the trees along the opposite bank.  But we also see it in our own garden, as scarlet creeps across some dogwood leaves and the crape myrtle leaves begin to turn, even as the trees still bloom.

~

The Williamsburg Botanical Garden shows its autumn colors.

~

We are running 12 to 13 degrees above our ‘normal’ temperatures most days lately, and it is a rare night that has dropped even into the 60s.  And yet the plants are responding to the change of season.   Perhaps they sense the days growing shorter; perhaps they are just getting tired.

~

I. ‘Rosalie Figge’ has just come back into bloom in our garden.

~

Our ‘re-blooming’ Iris have sent up their first autumn stalks.  We’ve been blessed with plenty of rain, recently, and so the Iris will have a good second season.  Some of our neighbors have Encore Azaleas covered in flowers

I was dumbfounded to see how gigantic some of the Colocasias, Alocasias and Caladiums grew in the catalog garden at the Bulb Shop in Gloucester.  I can’t remember ever seeing these plants grow so huge in Virginia.

~

The catalog garden at Brent and Becky’s Bulb Shop is filled with some of the largest Colocasias I’ve ever seen. Do you recognize C. ‘Tea Cups’?

~

But with good soil and near constant moisture, these amazing tropicals have shown us their potential for growth when they get all the warmth and moisture and nutrition they could possibly want.  I spoke with some of the staff there about how popular tropical ‘elephant ears’ have become in recent years, as coastal Virginia becomes ever more hospitable to them.

~

~

We ventured up to Gloucester this week to pick up our order of fall bulbs.  It is admittedly too warm, still, to plant most spring bulbs.  But I retrieved our order, shared with friends, and now will simply hold most of the bulbs for another few weeks until the nights finally cool.

There are a few bulbs that need to get in the ground right away, like dog tooth violets and our Italian Arum.  Both are actually tubers, and shouldn’t be allowed to dry out.  Our Muscari, left in pots over the summer, are already in leaf.

~

I’ve planted the first of my autumn four season pots filled with bulbs and mulched with moss.  This one will begin with autumn Crocus and Cyclamen in a few weeks, and then begin the early spring with snowdrops, Crocus, Muscari and dog tooth violet.  Finally, it will finish the season with late daffodils. The pot is anchored with an oak leaf Hydrangea and a deciduous lady fern. 

~

If the daffodils and tulips get planted too early, they might grow too much before the really cold weather finds us.  We can continue planting spring bulbs here into late December, maybe even early January.  I’d much rather do it in October though, wouldn’t you?

As the weather cools down a bit, I’m wanting to get back out in the garden to do a bit of tidying up before the fall planting begins.

~

Pineapple Sage is already blooming in our garden. I have several still in 4″ pots I need to plant one day soon.

~

I’ve got a backlog of plants sheltering in pots, just waiting for their chance to grow.  I visited a friend today who was weeding and digging her Caladiums to store for next summer.   Some of our Caladiums are beginning to die back a little, so she was probably wise to dig them while she can see a few leaves and find their roots.

~

This is one of our favorite Alocasias, often called African Mask. It spends winter in the living room, and summer in a shady part of the garden.

~

Bright orange wreathes are showing up on neighbor’s doors, and by Monday, the calendar will say ‘October.’  I suppose it is time to get on with it and embrace the changing seasons.

While I believe we will have another month, or two, of ‘Indian Summer’ before our first frost; I suppose we all just assume it is time for pumpkin lattes and chrysanthemums.  Some of my friends are already setting out huge mums and pulling their annuals.

~

Hardy Begonias are at their peak, blooming and so beautiful this week.

~

I’m not there, yet.  I’m still admiring our many ‘elephant ears’ and Begonias and watching for butterflies.  In fact, I came home from Gloucester with a sweet little Alocasia ‘Zebrina,‘ that  I’ve had my eye on all season.  They had just two left, and then they had one….

~

Alocasia grown huge at the catalog garden

~

The display plant, growing out in the catalog garden, was a bit taller than me.  Its leaves were absolutely huge!

I don’t know that my pot grown aroids will ever get quite that impressive, especially when they are forced to nap all winter in the basement.  But we enjoy them in their season, and their season will soon close.

~

We found both Monarchs and a few chrysalis at the Williamsburg Botanical Garden this week.

~

I have been admiring our garden today, and celebrating the successes we’ve enjoyed this year.  I am intentionally procrastinating on any chores that hasten our passage into autumn.

That said, the pumpkin bagels that showed up at Trader Joes this week are truly delicious.

~

~

Woodland Gnome 2018
Fabulous Friday:
Happiness is Contagious; Let’s Infect One Another!

Fabulous Friday: Under the Storm

~

The cloud shield of Hurricane Florence crept across our area in the night, blotting out the sun and bringing sporadic showers so that by the time we first looked out on Thursday morning, the world was damp and grey.

But quiet.  Very quiet, with barely a breath of wind.

~

~

We watched the storm’s progress throughout the day as it slowly ground towards the coastal islands of North Carolina.  I’ve loved those broad, sandy beaches and beach towns since childhood and know them well.  I’ve seen many storms come and go there, and watched the tough, resilient folks of these communities re-build their beach cottages and their communities time after time.   They love the ocean in all of its moods and seasons.

Life along the coast is a gamble.  Only this monster storm has skewed the odds towards devastation.

~

All was calm along the coast of Yorktown on Wednesday afternoon, before the storm moved in.

~

I remember one childhood Sunday afternoon lunch at our favorite Topsail Island sound side restaurant.  Our family calmly ate hush puppies at a big, round table by the windows, as waterspouts whipped up on the Inland Waterway, spinning bright and beautiful against the black and purple storm clouds behind the trees.  The restaurant was packed; the staff calm and friendly as ever, the food delicious.  By dinner time we were back out walking along the beach, picking up shells, and admiring the sunset’s golden rays stretching towards us through the line of cottages.

~

The ferry approaches the dock of Ocracoke Island, autumn 2007.  Ocracoke has been especially hard hit this time with overwash and torrential rains.

~

We saw Topsail cottages dismantled by the storm surge’s waves on CNN last night.  Another reporter stood in the middle of the deserted road through nearby Hampstead, buffeted by the wind and rain as the hurricane’s eye paced slowly towards the coast a few miles further south.  When the eye of the Hurricane finally came ashore near Wrightsville Beach early this morning, it was so huge that the geography of landfall almost didn’t matter.

~

~

Except it wasn’t here.  And for that we are enormously grateful today.  Tropical force winds haven’t quite made it far enough up the rivers to reach us, here in Williamsburg, and the rainfall has been relatively light.  The power’s on, the roads are clear, and our forest stands intact.

We keep in mind and heart everyone along the coast, and all those living on farms and in small towns whose lives are upended by the wind and rain.  We remember the thousands of workers even now rescuing families from flooded homes, patrolling the roads, running shelters and putting themselves in harm’s way to tell the story to the rest of us comfortably watching it unfold from home.

~

Our appreciation to Lesley, Don and the gang at Classic Caladiums for their good luck wishes ahead of the storm.  This is our favorite Caladium this season, ‘Peppermint’, well grown now from a single tuber.

~

The rain squalls come and go and the wind whips up from time to time.  The day is cool and fresh.  When I walked up the drive this morning a cloud of goldfinches startled from their morning meal in the Rudbeckia, flying in all directions to safer perches in the trees.  They chirped and chatted at the interruption, and I was so happy to see them still here.

~

Can you spot the goldfinch in the center of the Rudbeckia? I caught his photo the instant before he flew away.  He was the bravest of his small flock, to linger this long as I approached.

~

The flowers have taken on that intense hue that comes when they are well watered and the nights turn cool.  Gold and purples, scarlet, pink and purest white pop against fading leaves.  But also brown, as petals drop and seeds ripen in the undergrowth.

~

Rudbeckia with basil. The goldfinches love ripened seeds from both of these.

~

We’re happy to see that the routine continues in our Forest Garden.  Huge bumblies make their way slowly from flower to flower.  Birds peck at the muddy ground.  Clouds of mosquitoes wait for a chance to land and drink on unprotected flesh.  Hummingbirds dart from flower to flower.  But where are the butterflies?  Have they taken shelter, or taken wing?

~

Native mist flower, Conoclinium coelestinum

~

Even as beautyberries ripen from green to purple, and the mistflower bursts into bloom, we anticipate our garden’s closing extravaganza of beauty.  Summer is passed, and Indian Summer is upon us.  Cooler, wetter, milder; this season is a celebration of the fullness of our garden’s annual growth.  It stretches from mid-September until first frost.  Some might say it is the best part of the year, when acorns drop and leaves turn gold and scarlet against the clear, blue sky.

~

Mist flower grows among obedient plant, black-eyed Susans and goldenrod.  All are native to our region.

~

Even as we sit and wait out this monstrous storm, we notice the subtle signs of change.  Dogwood berries turn scarlet as next year’s buds emerge behind them.  The first Muscari leaves emerge in pots, and the Italian Arum begin to appear in the shadows.  I’m looking forward to a trip to Gloucester next week to pick up some Cyclamen for our winter garden

~

Oakleaf Hydrangea heads persist all summer, mellowing into shades of cream and brown towards fall.

~

All things change to their own pace and rhythms.  Flowers bloom, berries ripen, families grow, and leaves turn and fall.  Storms grow and subside.   Sandbar islands move along the coast.  Communities suffer loss and rebuild.  And life grows richer and more beautiful with each passing year.   It is the way of things. 

~

~

Woodland Gnome 2018
*

Fabulous Friday: 

Happiness is contagious;  let’s infect one another.

~

Hedychium coronarium, butterfly ginger lily

~
“There are times when the world is rearranging itself,
and at times like that,
the right words can change the world.”
.
Orson Scott Card
~

The first ever flower blooms on a volunteer seedling Hibiscus.

~
“It is change, continuing change, inevitable change,
that is the dominant factor in society today.
No sensible decision can be made any longer
without taking into account not only the world as it is,
but the world as it will be…
This, in turn, means that our statesmen, our businessmen, our everyman
must take on a science fictional way of thinking.”
.
Isaac Asimov
~

Autumn’s Textures and Layers

Our Forest Garden is filled with growth this first week of September.

~

Last Friday, I had the rare privilege of tagging along on a garden tour led by one of our region’s most beloved and respected horticulturalists, Brent Heath.  And he began the tour by reminding us that color in the garden is secondary to texture and form.  He reminded us that only about 10% of the vegetation in a good garden design should be flowers.  Considering that his business sells a rainbow of geophytes that bloom in every season of the year, this bit of advice seemed important to note.

~

Late August at the Heath’s display gardens

~

Although Brent and Becky’s catalogs may be filled with seas of golden daffodils and page after page of bright lilies, tulips, Iris, hyacinths and other garden delicacies; their display gardens around the bulb shop are more of an arboretum, filled with interesting woodies set in beautiful lawns.  And yes, within the vast green spaces grow beautiful beds of perennials.

~

Brent and Becky Heath’s Gloucester display garden December 4, 2015

~

In the spring we crave those crazy bright yellow daffodils and clear bright tulips, crocus, and hyacinths.  We revel in fluffy pink clouds of blooming fruit trees and early Magnolias.  But by late summer, I am cooled and soothed by layer upon layer of green.

~

Oakleaf Hydrangea, Edgeworthia, Camellia, Rudbeckia, Solidago and the surrounding trees create many layers of texture in our garden this week.  How many different shades of green can you see?

~

By early September, our garden approaches its maximum growth for the season.  It is filled with leaves of many shapes, sizes, and shades of green.  Tall stands of Solidago reach up for their bit of sunlight, their tops feathery and alive, shifting and shimmying in every breath of a breeze.  Likewise Cannas, Hibiscus and ginger lilies have grown taller than me, and moving through the garden feels like winding through a living, breathing maze.

~

~

I feel sheltered and cocooned standing in the midst of it, marveling at how much has grown over the past few months.  The secret to this garden magic comes from planting in layers.  Literally, one might have several plants sharing the same square foot of real estate, that grow to different heights and that take center stage at different times of the year.  Herbaceous plants come and go with the seasons, while the woodies and evergreen ground covers remain.

~

Obedient plant, Black-eyed Susans, goldenrod and other natives grow against shrubs in our front garden. This area is underplanted with spring bulbs and perennial ground covers like Vinca and Ajuga.

~

But even beyond seasonal layering, we build more permanent layers with trees and shrubs of various statures, ground cover vines, evergreen ferns and perennials such as bearded Iris, and the architecture of pergolas and pots, walls, gates, paths and raised beds.  Everywhere the eye can rest offers a layer of structure.  Much of the structure is green, and every layer offers its own special texture to the mix.

~

Perennial native mistflower, Conoclinium coelestinum, grows at the base of Canna and Colocasia in this sunny spot.

~

“Green’ describes a multitude of shades, multiplied further by the ever changing light and shadows.  This is, perhaps, a reason to favor perennials over annuals.  Perennials fill the garden with interesting texture and color, both before and after their much shorter season of bloom.

The annuals certainly charm us in March in April when we crave color.  But by late August and September, most have begun to wane.  They show the ravages of drought and time.  If we’ve not cut them back hard, the growth may be a bit old and rangy, perhaps dying off in spots.

 

~

Annual Zinnias fill beds at the Williamsburg Botanical Garden.

~

But worse, annuals may not improve that much over the long coastal Virginia summer.  You lose the subtleties of change enjoyed as perennials grow, bud, bloom and fade.  I look at so many pots of summer annuals now and think, ‘Ick.’  Many looked tired out and nearly ready for the compost pile.

And good riddance, as we approach another ‘golden season’ of Rudbeckias, goldenrods, Chrysanthemums, Lycoris, ginger lilies and soon autumn’s golden leaves.

~

~

The garden will revel in a final burst of gold and scarlet and orange before it finally settles and fades again to browns and grey; and before the first frosts of winter transform it, yet again.

~

Scarlet Pineapple Sage has just begun to bloom in our garden this week, to the delight of hummingbirds and butterflies.

~

Woodland Gnome 2018

~

~

Sunday Dinner:… at Relative Rest…

~

“Stone and sea are deep in life
Two unalterable symbols of the world
Permanence at rest
And permanence in motion
Participants in the power that remains”
.
Stephen R. Donaldson
~
~
“Newton’s work on gravity
led to the discovery of the Lagrange point,
a place where opposing forces
cancel one another out,
and a body may remain at relative rest.
This is where I am right now;
the forces in my life confound one another.
Better, for the moment, to be here and now,
without history or future.”
.
Nick Harkaway
~
~
“You rest now.
Rest for longer than you are used to resting.
Make a stillness around you, a field of peace.
Your best work, the best time of your life
will grow out of this peace.”
.
Peter Heller
~
~
“Each wave that rolls onto the shore
must release back to the ocean.
You are the same.
Each wave of action you take
must release back to the peace within you.
Stress is what happens
when you resist this natural process.
Everyone needs breaks.
Denying this necessity does not remove it.
Let yourself go. Realize that, sometimes,
the best thing to do is absolutely nothing.”
.
Vironika Tugaleva
~
~
Photos by Woodland Gnome
~
~
“True restfulness, though, is a form of awareness,
a way of being in life.
It is living ordinary life with a sense of ease, gratitude,
appreciation, peace and prayer.
We are restful when ordinary life is enough.”
.
Ronald Rolheiser
~

Fabulous Friday: White Butterfly Ginger Lily

~

The very first blossoms on our white butterfly ginger lilies opened yesterday morning.

~

~

Their fragrance is indescribably sweet.  With pure white flowers over a long season,  they are one of the flowers we love most as summer slowly melts into fall.

~

~

Our patch of ginger lily has grown a bit shaded over the years, and I see them leaning out for the sun.  By October they will be at least a foot taller, and covered in white flowers.

The hummingbirds love ginger lily flowers, too, and we’ve even seen hummingbirds feeding on them at dusk.

~

~

These elegant perennials are one of the few ginger plants hardy this far north.  Hedychium coronarium grows in zones 11-7b, so we are right on the northern edge of their range.  Last winter was hard on them, and they were slow to return this summer.  In a good year, and in good sun, they can grow to 7′ high.

We are happy to see them coming into bloom now, and look forward to weeks of their beauty.

~

~

Also blooming for  the  first  time  today is the red spider lily, Lycoris radiata.  After last night’s heavy rains, we expect to find many more stems emerging over the next few days.  These  bulbs  wait  for  a  good  soaking  to  finally  bloom in  late  August  or  September, often  after  a spell of  hot, dry weather.  Which  is  how  they  earn  their  other  common  name, hurricane  lily, when  they  suddenly  appear  after  a  big  storm .

~

~

It is always interesting to watch the garden unfold day by day and week by week.  It is always changing, and there is always something to look forward to as the seasons come and go.

~

~

Woodland Gnome 2018

Fabulous Friday: 
Happiness is Contagious; Let’s Infect One Another

Wild Life Wednesday On Thursday- Common Buckeye

This Common Buckeye looks quite uncommon to me… What colors!

~

I gave my students half credit when their assignments came in a day late.  They nearly always offered a credible excuse that didn’t involve a hungry dog, too.

My credible excuse is that it was simply too hot and muggy to go around chasing butterflies or any other wild life yesterday.  We had a heat advisory in our part of Virginia, and by the time I finished watering the hanging baskets on the deck I was ready to call it a day and hide indoors.

~

~

Today was much more promising for both working in the garden and for capturing butterfly portraits.  It meant a very early start this morning, but I joined our team at a  local garden with enthusiasm as we put in a few hours of watering, weeding, pruning, potting, and generally sprucing things up.  One of the naturalists among us was collecting seeds to package for events this fall.  And just as a few of us were standing around planning out our next task, I was blessed by a butterfly.

I’d been watching a beautiful Eastern Tiger Swallowtail visiting the Zinnias growing nearby, when it floated over and landed on my wrist.  This lovely butterfly mesmerized me because it was going about its business with most of both of its hindwings missing.  It had escaped some dire mishap with its life, and even with damaged wings had the strength and determination to fly, feed, and even visit with me.

~

A female Eastern Tiger Swallowtail feeds on Lantana in our own Forest Garden this morning.  The blue on the hindwings identifies the females.

~

It landed partly on my watch, and curiously uncurled its proboscis to search for something nourishing.  I was so hot and sweaty at that point that my skin was probably a bit salty, and butterflies need salts and minerals.  That is why you may notice them ‘puddling’ on the ground around a seep or puddle, drinking the moisture they find there.

We watched in amazement as it tried to ‘drink’ from between the sections of my watch band.  I gently carried this little butterfly over to one of the nearby flowers, encouraged it to drink the nectar there, and it soon walked off of my wrist and onto the waiting flower.

~

~

We continued working another hour surrounded by butterflies and goldfinches, enjoying the breeze on a beautiful August morning.

The mercury was climbing by the time I got back home to our own Forest Garden, but there was watering to do.  On these hot days, when it hasn’t rained, we schlep around hoses and watering cans to keep the pots and new transplants hydrated.  But the watering had to wait a bit longer today, because the butterflies were out in our garden too, enjoying the morning heat and delicious warm nectar.  I snapped a few photos to share.

~

~

Along the way this morning I also teased a toad a bit when he came to bask in the overspray of the hose.  He loved the bit of mud I left for him.  There were hummingbirds and cardinals to keep me company as I made the circuit of the garden.

It was well past noon when my partner came out to suggest that maybe it was time to come inside.  By then I’d moved down to the shade of our fern garden, and there was still a good breeze.  We knew there was rain in the forecast for this evening.

~

~

I sat awhile admiring it all, enjoying the breeze, and noticing the purple hue creeping across the berries on our beautyberry bush.  When the beautyberries turn color, we know that autumn approaches.

Which makes these late August days all the sweeter, and every visiting butterfly more precious.  They will feel the change in the air soon enough, and one day fly out of the garden, chasing summer’s warmth on their long journeys south.

~

~

Woodland Gnome 2018
~

 

Butterfly’s Choice: Aralia spinosa

Aralia blooms mingle with wild Clematis along the Colonial Parkway near Jamestown.

~

We stopped to admire the Clematis.  It was only once we pulled in to the parking area that we noticed the butterfly.

_

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail on Aralia spinosa.

_

And what a beautiful Eastern Tiger Swallowtail he was, contentedly feeding on the Aralia flowers.

_

_

Aralia spinosa is one of those wild trees we notice growing along the roadsides that appear, to our eye, rather weedy.  They grow tall and thin, eventually forming dense thickets, and sport wicked sharp thorns along their trunks and branches.  A native in our area, most sane folk would never allow them to take root in their garden.

_

_

But their thorns can be overlooked in late summer, when the Aralia produce huge, thick clusters of tiny flowers.  The flowers bloom, and after the blossoms drop dense purple berries take their place.  Butterflies love their flowers and all sorts of song birds love the berries.  These small trees produce abundant food for wild life each summer, before their leaves drop in late autumn.

~

“The Devil’s Walking Stick”, Aralia spinosa, with berries forming.  This stand grows along the Colonial Parkway near Jamestown Island.

~

We got to know Aralia when our neighbor’s fell over under its own weight one year, and leaned its huge flowery head into our back garden.  Perhaps it was merely reaching for the sun; I was intrigued.  Within another few years, we had one sprouting in the upper garden.  I decided to give it a chance and let it grow.

~

Aralia spinosa, a native volunteer in our garden, looks rather tropical as its first leaves emerge each spring.

~

It lost its top in a storm in early spring this year, and just as I hoped, more branches and flower heads sprouted lower along its trunk.  Where last year we had one large flower cluster at the very top, this year we have several.  We often find our Tiger Swallowtails winging their way up to enjoy its nectar.

~

~

But here along the Colonial Parkway on Sunday afternoon, I was still surprised to see the swallowtail feasting only on the Aralia, and completely ignoring the Clematis.  To my eye, the Clematis flowers are far more appealing.  They fairly shimmer in the sunlight, and they are a bit larger and perhaps easier to access.

But butterflies perceive the garden differently than do we.  Something about the Aralia intrigued this butterfly and kept it satisfied.  The Aralia is a Virginia native, and this particular Clematis is a naturalized variety from Asia.

~

Clematis terniflora was introduced from Asia, and has naturalized in many parts of the country, including here along the Colonial Parkway.  Its fragrance is strong and sweet.  This variety is on the invasive list in several states.

~

As we garden, we have to come to terms with our purposes.   What do we intend to accomplish by planting and tending our garden?  Who is the consumer?  Who is to be pleased by it?  Are we growing food for ourselves, enjoying the latest brightest flowers, creating a peaceful green sanctuary of shrubs and trees, or are we gardening to nurture wildlife?

~

~

We can find compromises, but we can’t do it all.

What appeals to wildlife may not be our idea of horticultural beauty.  Maintaining a garden that is immaculately beautiful won’t serve the needs of the butterflies, birds, toads and other creatures we may hope to attract.

Wildlife will impact any food crop we cultivate, for good or ill, and we need to come to terms early on with whether we will use the many chemicals that promise garden perfection.

~

Native Asclepias incarnata grows wild in a marsh on Jamestown Island.

~

It helps to know what wildlife need and prefer if we want to contribute to conservation efforts to protect them.  But that doesn’t mean we want all of those plants surrounding our home.  Many have a short season of beauty, or are rampant, or simply prefer to grow in wide open spaces.

~

Native Pickerel weed, Pontederia cordata, may be used in water features in our garden.  Here is grows in one of the marshes on Jamestown Island, along with Phragmites.

~

Maybe our homeowners association has strict standards for how our yards must be maintained.  Growing vigorous native plants may be discouraged, in favor of more traditional landscaping.

There is a tension, sometimes, in how we resolve these apparent conflicts of purpose, intent and personal needs.  But there can be creative, and beautiful compromises possible, when we stop and observe closely enough, and plan with clarity and wisdom.

Our love of the wild and beautiful world around us helps us discover those compromises, and find joy in the result.

~

~

Woodland Gnome 2018
~

A wildlife friendly border, with mixed natives and exotics, in our upper garden.

Sunday Dinner: Evolution

~

“Life belongs to the living,
and he who lives must be prepared for changes.”
.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

~

~

“Keep your best wishes,
close to your heart and watch what happens”
.
Tony DeLiso

~

~

“All men make mistakes,
but a good man yields when he knows his course is wrong,
and repairs the evil.
The only crime is pride.”
.
Sophocles

~

~

“Change is the end result of all true learning.”
.
Leo F. Buscaglia

~

~

“The only way to make sense out of change
is to plunge into it,
move with it,
and join the dance.”
.
Alan W. Watts

~

~

“When you come out of the storm,
you won’t be the same person who walked in.
That’s what this storm’s all about.”
.
Haruki Murakami

~

~

“I give you this to take with you:
Nothing remains as it was.
If you know this, you can
begin again,
with pure joy in the uprooting.”
.
Judith Minty

~

~

Photos by Woodland Gnome 2018

~

~

“When she transformed into a butterfly,
the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty,
but of her weirdness.
They wanted her to change back into what she always had been.
But she had wings.”
.
Dean Jackson
~

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 635 other followers

Follow Forest Garden on WordPress.com
Order Classic Caladiums

This Month’s Posts

Topics of Interest