Dark form female Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly nectars on butterfly bush
… While the calendar may promise cooling temperatures, we continue baking in the late summer heat and high humidity here in coastal Virginia. The plants are tired. We find freshly fallen leaves each day now, and the dogwood trees have already begun to turn towards their scarlet finale. Spiderwebs shimmer across pathways and openings as the zipper spiders grow fat and shiny. There are plenty of smaller prey for them to feast on, still.
So many leaves on trees and perennials grow ratty in September as insects eat holes in them and dry days leave them with crispy edges. Perhaps that is why the elephant ears stand out so beautifully in these closing weeks of the growing season…
See today’s photos and read more on Our Forest Garden, which is a continuation of A Forest Garden. I hope you will follow the new site so you don’t miss any new posts.
Ferns grow with Ajuga reptans ‘Black Scallop,’ Vinca, Arum and Hellebores
Have you ever noticed how some gardeners want to show off their mulch? Every plant or species group is carefully set far enough apart from the next to grow neatly, like little islands, in a sea of brown mulch. These curated clumps of vegetation may be arranged into an arc or grid or another clever scheme.
If shrubs, they are neatly sheared often enough to keep them in their intended shape. And the whole scene is surrounded by a sharp bordered sea of fresh mulch to demarcate the planting space.
I see these neatly manicured beds at the entrances to shopping centers and upscale neighborhoods, always anchored by a few rounded, evergreen shrubs. The color plants usually get switched out seasonally, with a few dozen little Begonias planted in April or May, replacing the ornamental cabbages and pansies planted last October. Once the cabbages flower, they look weedy, and are goners.
Of course, one must weed to keep it in shape. Seeds blow in from everywhere, so one must weed by hand, or spray periodically with an herbicide, to keep things neat. And often the answer is simply piling on more shredded bark mulch over the old, hiding what has faded. Mulch piles creep up the trunks of any larger trees like little brown mountains, beneath their leafy canopies.
This Aristotelian garden style asks us to make a lot of choices. First, and most importantly, what is a desirable plant, and what is a weed? What makes one plant desirable, and another not? The gardener always gets to choose.
The second part of an order as it arrived on April 11, 2014. Michigan bulb did replace these plants when notified of their condition on arrival.
Back in the day, I loved finding a plant or seed catalog in the mail. I studied each one carefully, marking up my wish list and then winnowing it down to something almost reasonable. I read the descriptions on each shrub and perennial, compared tomato, bean and squash varieties, and stayed abreast of all the latest and greatest plant introductions.
Over the past thirty years (plus or minus) I have ordered everything from fruit trees to roses, ferns, geraniums, tomato seeds and Caladium bulbs.
I have received some fine, healthy plants that grew well, and I’ve received some duds. Like you probably have over the years, too. I used to collect heirloom roses and fruit trees. There weren’t deer or rabbits in that garden, and I could grow vegetables and strawberries, too. I grew at least six varieties of apples and three different peaches, all purchased through the mail.
I remember those days fondly. The mail came every day, efficiently and without long delays. Prices were fair and nursery companies were honorable and cared about their reputations.
July 2014
But things change over time, don’t they? For the last few years, most of the nursery catalogs that make it to my mailbox go straight to the recycling can, just as soon as I can remove and shred my address label. A quick glance shows me how ridiculously overpriced the most common perennial can be when ordered through the mail. What I can buy locally for $5 suddenly becomes a $20 a plant before tacking on the postage.
It has been a long time since I have found a good deal on anything other than my favorite Caladium tubers. A few years ago, I took a chance on ordering a rare, hard to locate Iris. I ordered from a huge national company that advertises heavily, used a coupon code, and waited excitedly for my Iris to arrive. The stock looked good on arrival and I potted up the several I had purchased. They didn’t bloom the first year, and so I had an entire year to anticipate these inky, almost black, species Iris flowers.
And then there were buds, and finally the buds opened…. blue. What had been sold as an Iris chrysographes bloomed as a pale blue Japanese Iris. It was a pretty enough Iris, but not what I had ordered. And so instead of refunding my purchase, the company sent me a letter promising store credit on my next order. That letter sat in my filing cabinet for a couple of years, because I truly wasn’t interested in buying anything else from them.
And then temptation struck me this past February. February does strange things to an otherwise sensible gardener’s sensibility. I found this fern I just had to have, and this company had it at a fair enough price. And so one freezing February day I ordered the golden fern and a couple of Calla lily bulbs, and paid for it with my letter of credit, plus a few extra dollars to cover the difference.
We are fortunate to have Brent and Becky’s Bulbs close enough to shop with them in person.
Well, the fern arrived just fine in early March, but no bulbs. They said the bulbs would be along shortly. And so I waited patiently through the time frame they indicated, and still no Calla bulbs. When I called customer service last week, the sweet lady apologized profusely while telling me that the next time frame for mailing them would be mid-May. No thank you.
I cancelled the order, scolding myself the entire time, and requested a refund. Well, I’m still waiting for that refund. Are you surprised?
I tried a new company last February, too. The Tennessee Wholesale Nursery has a professional looking website and carries a large selection of bare root ferns. I was in fern bliss ordering species never found in stores. The order arrived a few weeks later in March, and I was pleased with what I received.
Pleased enough that I had the botanical garden where I volunteer place an order for a project I was planting there. We were a bit shocked to pay around $30 for postage for a few packages of bare root ferns, but there was no stated shipping policy on the website other than a statement that they would determine the shipping on each order. Those ferns were shipped the same day they were ordered, and I was a very happy gardener to open that order, too.
The silvery underside of each frond is this fern’s distinguishing feature. I brought this fern home from Oregon in my luggage in 2019.
Perhaps I should have been satisfied and left it at that. But no, I wanted a few more ferns for my spring projects, so I placed the third order with Tennessee Wholesale Nursery in mid-March. The website indicated it would ship out in March, and my credit card was charged on March 20.
And I’m still waiting for that order a month later in mid-April, while getting nothing helpful or encouraging from their customer service agent. When they told me last Monday that they wouldn’t be able to dig my ferns for several more weeks, I asked that the order be cancelled if they couldn’t ship by today. Numerous attempts to call the available numbers led only through the phone tree to full voice mailboxes.
Well, the order wasn’t prepared last week, and so on Friday, I requested that it be cancelled, and my payment refunded. No acknowledgement, just an apology. It is getting too late in the season here for me to want to start off with bare root plants. Our cool spring is history, and it is stressful for plants to have to grow new roots in our heat.
I requested again today that the order be cancelled. And I followed up with an email to the owner. Still, no acknowledgment that it has been cancelled, or that my refund is in process, even after writing to the owner. Instead of happily planting my ferns, I am left pondering next steps . . .
2013, An Afghan Fig, newly arrived in the mail, ready to plant. It is still thriving in our garden today.
I have one more plant order ‘out there’ that is supposed to ship this week from Plant Delights in North Carolina. This will be my first order with them in several years. Once their shipping costs went above $30 for even a single plant, it cooled my plant lust considerably. All it took was a few moments of ‘doing the math’ to figure out the actual cost of the plant to convince me that I didn’t need it that badly.
But I was given a gift of cash and asked to get something I had been wanting for a while. And after several days of thinking about it, I decided to support the work that Plant Delights does for the horticultural community with a purchase/donation. I say donation because the prices are so high. But they are quite honest and let you know that your purchase helps support their botanical garden where the plants are trialed and cultivated. Fair enough.
These three Colocasia plants were all purchased through the mail. The tall Colocasia “Black Runner” arrived from Plant Delights Nursery on April 2, 2014, in perfect condition. The tiny Colocasia, “Pink China” plants arrived from another company in poor condition. You get what you pay for!
I am waiting to hear that the order has shipped. Plant Delights has a good track record of customer service. If you don’t mind paying $20-$30 a plant for a little something in a 3.5” pot, you can source plants from them unavailable from anyone else. And, the plants are healthy and correctly labeled.
Buying new plants should be joyous. We all want to be treated fairly and to receive good value for our expenditure. The plants we receive should be healthy, arrive at the correct time, and we should be able to communicate with the nursery staff if problems arise.
Many of the old names in the mail-order nursery business have gone under in recent years. Others have consolidated. This past year has presented special challenges for every sort of business, including mail-order nurseries. I appreciate the work they do and the opportunity to purchase unusual plants few others carry.
This past week I unsubscribed from the emails of all but two nursery companies. Why read the emails and see the sales when I’ve decided to stop ordering from them? I am still allowing emails from Plant Delights, because I enjoy seeing their new introductions. And I am still impressed with the quality, service and selection at Classic Caladiums, in Avon Park, Florida.
Beyond that, I have placed my final plant order. I will shop locally or find happiness with whatever wildflower or sapling pops up in my yard. Because peace of mind is priceless.
Native dogwood is our state flower, and the Virginia Native Wildflower of the Year for 2018. Best of all, it seeds itself around our garden for free.
Rainy weather and frequent storms over the past few years have presented a particular challenge. We are situated on a sloping bit of land on the side of a ravine. A creek runs through the ravine below us and empties into a small lake.
Working with the continual erosion has remained a constant theme of our gardening here. Our challenge is to slow the flow of water to increase opportunities for rain to soak into the soil for later use, while reducing the amount of flowing water that erodes the soil and runs off into the ravine.
Read moreabout the construction of this new series of raised beds, and see photos of some of the ferns we’ve chosen at my new site, Our Forest Garden.
If you enjoy these posts. please follow my new site, Our Forest Garden, so you remain up to date with all of the activity in our garden.
The original Pollinator Palace at the Williamsburg Botanical Garden has been renovated this month. Read more here
Did you know the majority of bees that pollinate our food crops and wildflowers do not live in hives and do not produce honey?
Hive-dwelling honey-producing bees did not even exist in North America until they were brought here by European immigrants in the early 1600’s. That means the honeybee, which has become important to commercial agriculture and has captured press attention due to hive collapse, is not a native insect species.
There are roughly 4,000 species of native bees and they are all in grave peril because all of them are in population decline.
Informed gardeners know and love native bumble bees, carpenter bees, mason bees, leaf cutter bees and sweat bees, to name only a few. This branch of entomology is still expanding as scientists are now beginning to understand just how important native bee are to healthy ecosystems. Many native bee species haven’t yet been thoroughly studied.
There are things that gardeners and enthusiasts can easily do to support our native bees. A gardener’s most important role in protecting and supporting bees (and other pollinators) is to grow plenty of flowers to provide them with nectar and pollen. Bees come out earlier in the springtime now than in previous years, and so it is helpful to provide early blooms to feed them.
Flowers vary in the quality and nutritional value of their pollen. Native plants provide the highest quality food for native bees.
Any gardener who supports wildlife simply must not use pesticides or other chemicals in the garden that will poison them. Pesticides and herbicides get into the ecosystem of the garden and have a profound impact on pollinators, birds and small mammals, in addition to the problem insects they target.
Bumble bees are probably the largest and most recognizable of our native bees because they are large and easily observed. They are ‘generalists’ and will visit almost any blooming flower. While other bee species will only forage from one type of plant at a time and may prefer certain flower species or flower forms, bumblebees will freely visit most flowers in bloom. Bumblebees often live in communities underground with a queen and her daughters managing the hive and caring for the young.
While some native bees prefer to live in the ground, many other species are solitary, and make nests to lay their eggs in wood or the dried stems of plants. When we thoroughly clean up our gardens each fall, cutting the drying, dying stems of perennials, picking up all the sticks and raking all the leaves, we also dispose of many larval bees and other important insects.
Only recently have I come across the term ‘Carbon Garden’ in the current issue of Horticulture Magazine. You may be ahead of me on this one, but the picture that came to mind when I first saw the term wasn’t very pretty. The reality of it is much more attractive, and this garden style proves easier to maintain than many other garden styles.
Like other elements, carbon is an atom that can manifest as a solid, in a liquid, or as a gas. Carbon dioxide (CO2) and carbon monoxide (CO) remain in the news because they contribute so much to our warming environment. Gasses like carbon dioxide and methane (CH4) trap heat from the sun near the surface of the earth, causing warmer weather and heavier rainfalls. Conversations around reversing the current warming trends usually focus on reducing carbon emissions and finding ways to scrub carbon out of the air.
Magically, we have living tools for removing carbon from the air right outside our windows. You see, every green plant cell uses carbon dioxide in its daily efforts to feed itself and sustain the entire plant. In the presence of sunlight, carbon dioxide and water transform into glucose, used to power plant growth, and the waste product oxygen, which of course we need in every breath.
When you contemplate a leafy tree, imagine each leaf inhaling polluted air and transforming that air into pure food and oxygen.
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Japanese Maple
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Glucose is further transformed into cellulose, which structures the cell wall of every plant cell. Now, imagine a tree’s roots growing deeper and wider into the earth with each passing year. What are those roots made from? Cellulose: largely, carbon.
A tree, and most any other plant, can stash carbon deep underground where it will remain for many years in solid form. Many plants also store nitrogen, filtered out of the air, on their roots. In fact, any plant in the pea family stores little nodules of solid nitrogen along their roots. Knowing that nitrogen is a major component of fertilizers, you understand how this stored nitrogen increases the fertility of the soil in the area where these plants grow.
Plant leaves are also made primarily of carbon. When the leaves fall each autumn, they hold stored, solid carbon. If returned to the soil as compost or mulch, the carbon remains stored, or sequestered, in solid form in the soil. This is how ordinary garden soil may be transformed into a ‘carbon sink.’
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Turkey tail mushrooms help decompose the stump of a fallen peach tree. Leaving the stump in place and allowing vegetation to cover it conserves its carbon in the soil.
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A log is made largely of stored carbon. When you burn it in the fireplace, those chemical bonds break down, and much of the carbon rises back into the air as smoke. If the same log is made into a cutting board or other wooden object, then the carbon remains in sold form.
Just as burning can break chemical bonds to release carbon back into the air, so will decomposition. We’ve come to understand that bare dirt, including tilled fields and gardens, releases carbon back into the air. But ground covered by mulch or living plants doesn’t allow that carbon to move back into the air.
All of this helps explain the science behind the principles of Carbon Gardening, whose goal is to scrub as much carbon as possible out of the air and sequester it in the earth. Forests have done this very efficiently for untold ages.
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Only in recent times, with so much natural forest cleared and land exposed, has our planet begun its dramatic warming. Think of all the carbon stored over the centuries as coal, petroleum, peat, and held close under a forest canopy that has been released into our atmosphere over the past century.
So, the point of Carbon Gardening is to use one’s own garden to sequester as much carbon as possible, using gardening methods that hold the carbon in the soil, without burning or releasing any more carbon than possible in the process.
Every breath we exhale contains carbon dioxide. Our cells produce it as they produce energy. We live in harmony with the plants we grow, taking in the oxygen they exhale while giving them back our own carbon rich breath. That said, please don’t try to hold your breath as you make your Carbon Garden.
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Camellia sasanqua
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Here are a few principles of Carbon Gardening that may help point you in the right direction.
Plant intensely in layers: The more plants in growth the more carbon will be scrubbed from the air each day. Trees are most efficient because they support a huge volume of leaves. Include evergreen trees that continue respiration through the winter months, and plant a shrub layer, perennial layer, and ground covers under the trees to maximize the amount of carbon absorbed by your garden. Evergreen perennials and ground covers continue absorbing and storing carbon through the winter months.
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Feed carbon (and nitrogen) back into your soil with plant materials. Use wood chips, bark, and shredded leaves as mulch to minimize bare ground. Remember that roots sequester a large amount of carbon and nitrogen, so leave those roots in the ground. Cut weeds or spent annuals at ground level instead of pulling them up. Compost trimmings and leaves, kitchen waste, and unneeded cardboard, newsprint or brown paper.
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This is a very thin layer of compost covering collected branches, bark and leaves from our fallen tree. We added additional layers of organic material to build the new planting bed.
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Instead of tilling soil and exposing stored carbon, sheet compost in the winter to prepare for spring planting. Cover the garden area with cardboard or paper to protect the soil and smother any weeds. Build up layers of composable materials, or even bagged municipal compost, and allow it to decompose in place so that planting seeds or transplants in the spring is possible without tilling or excessive digging. Coffee grounds, tea bags, rinsed eggshells and other kitchen scraps can be ‘buried’ in the layers of a sheet compost pile, but be careful not to discard of seeds in this way unless you want them to sprout in the spring.
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Paper grocery bags covered with several inches of compost smother weeds and soften the ground for this new planting bed, eliminating the need to dig the area up first. Pea gravel helps hold this area, which is on a slope.
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Remain mindful of garden ‘inputs’ that burn carbon. This includes garden equipment that burns gas, commercial fertilizers, and maybe even those fun trips to the garden center….?
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This bin of new Caladium bulbs was ready to be planted out in mid-May. Ordering bare root perennials, bulbs, tubers and seeds and starting them at home reduces the carbon footprint of a garden. The red leaf is C. ‘Burning Heart,’ a 2015 introduction from Classic Caladiums in Avon Park, FL.
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If you normally buy flats of annual plants each spring for pots or borders, consider how to plant those areas more sustainably. Consider all of the carbon releasing ‘inputs’ required to produce those plants, including the plastic containers they are grown in, the transportation to move them, and the chemical fertilizers and peat based potting soil used in growing them. While all plants sequester carbon from the air, commercial nursery production of short-lived plants releases carbon into the atmosphere throughout the process and should be considered by conscientious gardeners. What can you raise from seeds, cuttings or divisions, or obtain through trade with gardening friends?
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Saxifraga stolonifera is an evergreen ground cover that is easy to divide and share. It grows here with Ajuga ‘Black Scallop,’ Hellebores and ferns.
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Choose native perennials or ones that will naturalize in your climate, so your plants spread and reproduce, reducing the number of plants you need to buy each year to fill your garden. Design a sustainable garden that grows lushly with minimal ‘inputs’ and intervention from the gardener. Native and naturalizing perennials won’t need much watering during dry spells, will make do with nutrients in the soil, and will expand and self-seed.
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Woody plants sequester carbon in their roots and branches and live for many years. These are the most efficient Carbon Garden plants. A garden made mostly from trees, shrubs, perennial ferns and groundcovers, will work most efficiently. Some more arid areas have great success with long-lived succulents. Consider replacing turf grass with plants that don’t require such intense maintenance.
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Mountain Laurel blooms each May, is native to our region and forms dense clumps over time.
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Use the I-Tree Tool to educate yourself about the power of trees in your landscape to sequester and store carbon, reduce run-off and scrub other pollutants out of the air. Use this tool when selecting new trees to plant in your own yard.
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From left: new leaves emerge red on this hybrid crape myrtle, small Acer palmatum leaves emerge red and hold their color into summer, red buckeye, Aesculus pavia is naturalized in our area and volunteers in unlikely places, blooming scarlet each spring. In the distance, dogwood blooms in clouds of white.
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‘Carbon Gardening’ can make a significant contribution to scrubbing carbon out of the atmosphere and sequestering it in the earth, and the total contribution multiplies as the plants grow and the garden develops year to year. A fully grown native tree can removed fifty or more pounds of carbon from the air annually. While the amount varies by tree species and size, every year of growth increases the tree’s effectiveness.
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Each gardener who adopts sustainable practices makes a sizeable contribution to off-set and mitigate carbon production in their area. Planting more plants and allowing them to grow densely also helps manage rainfall so it is stored onsite, rather than running off so rapidly. The plants sustain wildlife and build a richly integrated ecosystem.
We reduce our own annual costs for new plants, fertilizers, other chemicals and fuel, while also reducing our time invested in garden maintenance. It is a good approach for any of us who enjoy watching nature weave her tapestry each year, sustainably, while knowing that our gardens are part of the solution to climate warming and climate change.
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Woodland Gnome 2021
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Please visit my other site, Illuminations, for a daily photo of something beautiful and a positive thought.
Native sweetbay Magnolia virginiana, in bloom this week at the Williamsburg Botanical Garden, fills the garden entrance with its musky perfume.
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This Friday dawned humid and grey, and I set out as soon as we finished a quick breakfast to meet a friend at the Williamsburg Botanical Garden. While I am all about the plants, she is all about the cats and butterflies. Today, she was hunting for a few special cats to use in her upcoming program at our local library about protecting butterflies and providing habitat for their next generations.
We checked all of the usual host plants: Asclepias,, spicebush, Wisteria, fennel, Passiflora vines, and parsley. We weren’t equipped to check out the canopies of the garden’s host trees, like the paw paw or the oaks, but we were left empty-handed. There were no caterpillars that we could find today.
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A Zebra Swallowtail butterfly enjoys the Verbena bonariensis at the WBG last week. Its host plant is the native paw paw tree.
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In this peaceful nectar and host plant rich environment, where are the butterflies and their young? We both happily snapped photos of interesting views and blooms as we searched, took care of a few chores together, and then she was off.
By then the first Master Naturalist gardeners had arrived. All of us had one eye to the sky and another on our ‘to-do’ lists.
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Native Asclepias tuberosa is one of the Asclepias varieties that Monarch butterflies seek out as a host plant to lay their eggs.
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I have great admiration and affection for the Master Naturalists who work at the WBG, and I appreciate the opportunity to ask questions when they are around. I hope to join their ranks one year soon. The course is rigorous and the standards high, and the volunteer work they do throughout our area is invaluable.
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This is our native Carolina wild petunia, Ruellia caroliniensis, that blooms near the gate at the WBG.
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One of the Master Naturalists was also working on an inventory of butterflies in the garden today. He checked out all of the tempting nectar plants from Verbena to Lantana, the Asclepias to his blooming herbs, the pollinator beds of native flowers, the various Salvias and Agastache.Where were the butterflies today?
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Native spiderwort, Tradescantia ohiensis, also grows near the garden’s gate.
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I had the constant company of bees buzzing around my knees and ankles as I climbed into a border to weed and deadhead.
But no Zebra Swallowtails danced among the Verbena. Not a single butterfly fed on the Salvias where I was working. A Monarch showed itself briefly and promptly disappeared. We observed the heavy, humid air and decided they must be sheltering against the coming rain.
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Native Iris virginica blooming last week at the WBG.
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But as the storm grew closer, there wasn’t much time for sociability today. We could hear the thunder rumbling off in the distance as we weeded, cut enthusiastic plants back, potted and chatted with garden visitors.
My partner kept an eye on the radar maps at home and phoned in updates. When he gave the final ‘five minute warning!’ it was nearly noon, and the rain began as I headed back to my car. It was a good morning’s work and I left with the ‘to do’ list completed.
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Seedpods ripen on the sweetbay Magnolia
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But the rain has been a constant presence this afternoon, falling loudly and insistently all around us. There are flood warnings, the ground is saturated, and I am wondering how high the water might rise on local roads and along the banks of the James and its feeder creeks. It has been a wet year for many.
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The James River last week, before this last heavy rain brought it even higher.
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There was a timely message from the James River Association in my inbox. The river is brown with run-off, and has been for a while now. They are encouraging folks to address run-off issues on their properties. The best advice there is, “Plant more plants!” But of course, the right plants in the right places! Successful plants help manage stormwater; dying ones, not so much.
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I use both rock and hardwood mulch in our garden at home to help protect the soil during heavy rains. This is a native oakleaf Hydrangea in bloom.
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Rain gardens are encouraged to catch the run-off and allow it to slowly percolate into the earth instead of running off so quickly. There are programs available that help plan and fund new rain gardens to protect local water quality.
Where there is no good spot for a rain garden, then terraces help on slopes like ours, and solid plantings of shrubs and perennials help to slow the flow of water downhill towards the creeks.
Most anything that covers the bare soil helps with erosion. But deeply rooted plants help hold the soil while also soaking up the water and allowing it to evaporate back into the atmosphere through their leaves.
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Groundcover plants, like this golden creeping Jenny, also hold and protect the soil. Our Crinum lily is ready to bloom. This hardy Amaryllis relative gets a bit larger each year as its already huge bulb calves off pups.
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We’ve been watching flooding news roll in from all over the region this afternoon. Streets and sidewalks underwater, cars floating away, and families chased indoors by the weather. It looks like a wet stretch coming, too.
I’m glad have a new garden book, The Thoughtful Gardener by Jinny Blom waiting for me; the prose is as inspiring as the photographs. I love seeing how other gardeners plant and how they think about their planting. There is always more to learn.
Once these flooding rains subside and the soil drains a bit, I expect to be back outside and “Planting more plants!”
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Woodland Gnome 2019
Fabulous Friday: Happiness is Contagious; Let’s infect one another!
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Echinacea, purple coneflower, delights pollinators and goldfinches in our forest garden.
Iris perfectly blend color, fragrance, geometry and grace.
I’ve spent the last six months delving into the details of the genus and am delighting now in watching them unfold their perfect standards and falls.
The appearance of Iris each spring still feels like a bit of natural magic. From a slender green stem, the intensely pure colors emerge as each flower unfolds.
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Iris tectorum, Japanese roof Iris, can be grown on traditional thatched roofs. It was a status symbol in some Japanese communities to have a roof covered with blooming Iris. This is a crested Iris, like our native Iris cristata.
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Watching an Iris bud open reminds me of how a butterfly emerges from its chrysalis, ever so slowly stretching and unfolding its wings. Both grow so large one wonders how they could have possibly fit into their sheath. While a butterfly soon flies off in search of nectar and a mate, Iris blossoms remain anchored to their stems, hovering above the garden in motionless flight.
Our Iris continue to multiply in the garden. I’ve been collecting them, dividing them, and have even received some as gifts. Most bloom only once each year, and then for only a few weeks. But what an amazing sight to anticipate through the long weeks of winter, knowing that spring will bring Iris blossoms once again. Collecting different types of Iris extends the period of bloom, and planting re-blooming iris offers the tantalizing promise of an encore in autumn.
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Iris pallida, a European species Iris brought to Virginia by the colonists, is one of the species used in German bearded Iris hybrids.
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There is a fellowship of Iris lovers extending back through our recorded history. We see Iris carved into bas reliefs in Egyptian temples, and Iris flowers were admired in ancient Greece. The Babylonians grew them, and Iris grew wild across the hills of Turkey and meadows of Europe. There are more than 150 species of Iris, and many of our garden Iris are hybrids of two or more species.
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Native Iris cristata
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Tough and persistent, Iris are easy to grow, once you understand what each variety needs. It is easy to fall in love with Iris plants in bloom. And that is the best way to buy them, so you know exactly what you are planting. Since most are hybrids, gardeners rarely grow Iris from seeds.
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Some Iris grow from bulbs, most from rhizomes. Some may come in the mail as bare-root plants. You may have to wait a year or two for the first bloom when you buy divisions.
For immediate satisfaction, look for potted Iris plants in bloom. You will know exactly what colors you are adding to your garden and know you have a healthy plant to start.
Then, just wait for the beauty to multiply with each passing year.
It was gently raining when we awakened this morning, but the sun was breaking through along the horizon by the time we made it outside into the new day.
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An early morning bumbly enjoys the sweetness of Rudbeckia laciniata.
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We are all very conscious of the weather here in coastal Virginia this week as we watch the updates on the progress of Hurricane Florence. We are on high ground and so flooding isn’t a concern. But we live in a forest, and any amount of wind can change the landscape here; especially when the ground is saturated.
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The Solidago, goldenrod, has just begun to bloom.
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It looks as though the storm will make landfall far to our south, and the track no longer suggests it might travel northwards into Central Virginia. Yet Florence remains a dangerous storm, and is absolutely huge. We may start feeling its outer bands of rain and wind sometime tomorrow or Friday.
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Rose of Sharon
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Which made today all the sweeter. Do you know the Japanese term, Wabi-Sabi? The Japanese find beauty in the transience and ultimate imperfection of all phenomena. The impermanence and changeability of the world around us heightens our appreciation of its beauty. We can appreciate things while feeling a deep tenderness for their inherent imperfection.
I was pondering these things this morning as I wandered through our upper garden, wondering how it might appear in a day or so after wind and heavy rain have their way with it. Already, our tall goldenrod and black-eyed Susans lean over into the paths, making them almost disappear in the abundance of growth.
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It is my first time wandering through the garden like this since I got a nasty insect bite last Friday afternoon. It is still a mystery what bit me, as I was fully armored to work outdoors. It was a small bite at first, but quickly blistered and swelled up to a massive angry red blotch that stretched several inches away from the original bite on my knee. It has been a slow process of tending it, and I stayed indoors until yesterday, hoping to avoid another until this one was resolved.
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Ginger lily with orbs
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But today I was out in the early morning wetness, capturing the beauty of it, and trying to ignore the mosquitoes greeting me along the way. I wanted to see everything and admire everything on the chance that the coming storm will shatter its early September magnificence. It was the beautiful calm before the storm, and we have taken today to celebrate it.
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The rain was past and the day gilded with golden September sunshine when we set out along the Colonial Parkway to see the sky and watch the rising waters along the James and York Rivers. If you’ve never seen the sky filled with enormous, rain shadowed clouds in the day or two before a hurricane approaches, you’ve missed one of the most beautiful spectacles of atmospheric art.
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Yorktown Beach, looking northwards towards Gloucester Point and the Virginia Institute of Marine Science
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The clouds are arrayed in regular, rhythmic patterns, punctuated here and there with towering, monstrous storm clouds. The sky is blue and clear beyond them. They float rapidly across the sky, these outer bands of the approaching storm. These days of waiting are moody, morphing quickly from dull to golden and clear blue to stormy grey.
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One keeps an eye on the sky while pacing through the rituals of preparing. There is an edge to the mood as highways fill with strangers moving northwards, inland, away from home and into an uncertain future. We encountered one today at the next gas pump who needed to tell us he was traveling, just passing through, on his journey to somewhere safer than here.
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We found a nearby parking lot filled this morning with state police, huge generators, Klieg lights, and emergency response trailers. The lot was filled at eight, but emptying out just a few hours later. We’re still wondering where the equipment will ultimately end up. We hope not here…
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Jones Mill Pond, near Yorktown on the Colonial Parkway
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I wondered whether the butterflies would move out ahead of the storm. But we counted more than a dozen as we drove along the Parkway from Jamestown to Yorktown. We saw mostly small ones, Sulphurs, but we were glad for their happy fluttering along the roadside. We noticed the tide is already high along the way. Jamestown Island is closed as preparations there continue.
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The rivers lap high up into the reeds, mostly covering the narrow, sandy river beaches. The York River is already climbing the rip rap hardened banks constructed a few summers ago to protect the shoreline. Small Coast Guard craft patrolled the river near Yorktown, but that didn’t deter a few families here and there, determined to enjoy this bright and sultry day at the beach.
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The York River, looking eastwards towards the Bay.
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The lizards were scampering around the drive and back steps when we returned home. They’d been basking in the mid-day sun; our return disturbed their peace.
The squirrels had been at the grapes again, and we saw a pair of hummingbirds light in a Rose of Sharon tree nearby, watching us arrive.
It was too silent, though. We didn’t hear the usual chatter of songbirds in the trees. It was still, too. Though the wind was blowing off the rivers, here the air hung heavy and still.
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Our Muscadine grapes are ripening over a long season.
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I believe in luck and omens, and perhaps that is why I planted a few little pots of Baptisia seeds this morning. I’d knicked the seed pods from a plant I’ve watched growing all summer at the Botanical garden, and carried them in my pocket for weeks.
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With the seeds tucked into little pots out on the deck, I’m already thinking of the sprouts that will soon emerge. Life goes on. I believe that is the wisdom of wabi-sabi.
No matter the current circumstance, change is constant. We can’t outrun it, or stop it. Wisdom invites us to embrace it, observe its power, and find the ever-present beauty, come what may.
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This beautiful cluster of lichens was waiting for me beneath a shrub this morning.
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Woodland Gnome 2018
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“To Taoism that which is absolutely still or absolutely perfect
is absolutely dead,
for without the possibility of growth and change there can be no Tao.
In reality there is nothing in the universe
which is completely perfect or completely still;
it is only in the minds of men that such concepts exist.”
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Alan Watts
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“But when does something’s destiny finally come to fruition?
It was just a little goldfinch. Yet I was so delighted to notice it gracefully balanced on a yellow black-eyed Susan flower near the drive, when we returned from our morning errands. He concentrated his full attention on pecking at the flower’s center. Though the seeds aren’t yet ripe, he was clearly hoping for a morsel to eat.
Once I took a step too close, he lifted into the air on outstretched wings, disappearing behind a stand of goldenrod.
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‘Green Envy’ Echinacea mixes with basil and more Rudbeckia, a feast for goldfinches and butterflies.
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Goldfinches and cardinals catch our eye with their bright feathers, but there are all of the other grey and brown and occasionally blue birds flitting from grass to shrub and flowering mass from before dawn until their final songs long past dusk. And then we listen for the owls’ conversations through the night.
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I heard a wonderful speaker yesterday morning, who pulled back the curtain a bit on the world of insects in our gardens. He is a former student of Dr. Douglas Tallamy, author of Bringing Nature Home, and is now an assistant professor of Biology at nearby Hampton University. Dr. Shawn Dash is a gifted teacher, keeping us all laughing and learning as he shared his insights into the importance of the insects of the planet in maintaining the web of life.
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Joe Pye Weed attracts more insects than any other flower in the garden this month.
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I am a total novice in this mysterious world of insects. But I will say that I am learning to look at them with admiration and respect… so long as they remain out of doors in the garden!
Joe Pye Weed is the best wildlife attractor blooming in our garden at the moment. It is simply covered with every sort of wasp and bee and butterfly and moth and sci-fi ready insect you can imagine. The ‘buzz’ around it mesmerizes.
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Our garden hums and buzzes and clicks with life as July finally melts into August. Dr. Dash talked about the musical chorus of insects as one of the wonderful benefits of a full garden; a diverse garden that includes some percentage of native plants to support them.
Creating a layered garden with an abundance of plant life from the hardwood canopy all the way down through smaller trees, shrubs, herbaceous plants, vines and ground cover offers many niches to harbor a huge array of insects. All of those juicy insects attract song birds and small mammals, turtles, frogs, lizards and yes, maybe also a snake or two.
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A fairly sterile suburban lawn may be transformed into a wild life oasis, a rich ecosystem filled with color, movement and song. And the whole process begins with planting more native trees and shrubs to offer food and shelter to scores of species.
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But even more fundamentally, the process begins when we value the entire web of life in our particular ecosystem and allow it to unfold.
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Hardy blue mistflower, Conoclinium coelestinum, grows wild in our garden. I stopped weeding it out after a few plants survived deep enough into the summer to bloom with these gorgeous blue flowers.
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I quickly learned that I don’t really need to go out and buy a lot of native plants. I only have to allow them to grow when they sprout from the seeds already in our soil. I have to allow the seeds that wildlife drop in our garden to have a bit of real-estate to take hold. And nature magically fills the space.
We guide, nurture, and yes edit. But as soon as we allow it and offer the least encouragement, nature becomes our partner and our guide.
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The goldenrod want to claim this entire area as their own… time to give some to friends!
This translates the science into the practical planning of an ecologically balanced home landscape, and is richly illustrated and laced with wonderful stories. It inspires one to go plant something and make one’s garden even more diverse.
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Our little Eastern Black Swallowtail caterpillar is growing fast, happily munching on the Daucus carota.
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Our garden is filled to overflowing, this Fabulous Friday. It is filled with flowers and foliage, birds, squirrels, butterflies and scampering lizards. Our garden is filled with tweets and twitters of the natural kind, the sounds of wind blowing through the trees and rain dripping on the pavement.
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fennel
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Our world is wet this week, as storm after storm trains up the East Coast. I’m grateful for the rain even as I’m swatting at the mosquitoes biting any exposed bit of skin, while I focus my camera on the butterflies.
I hope that your summer is unfolding rich in happiness and beautiful experiences. I hope you are getting enough rain, but not too much; that your garden is doing well and that you are, too.
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Fabulous Friday:
Happiness is Contagious; Let’s Infect One Another!
![The Living Landscape: Designing for Beauty and Biodiversity in the Home Garden by [Darke, Rick, Tallamy, Douglas W.]](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/61O4q4dy9oL._SX260_.jpg)
Forest Garden 