Fabulous Friday: Mystery Visitor

~

“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious.
It is the fundamental emotion
that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.”
.
Albert Einstein

~

~

Its shape first caught my eye, a different shape and size than other butterflies we’ve enjoyed all summer.  But it was moving so fast, and far enough away that I couldn’t quite see it clearly.

~

~

At first, I wondered whether it might be a sphinx moth.   As I drew closer, it would fly up and away.  And then when my attention turned elsewhere, I’d soon find it sipping nectar nearby.  It was quick and agile, wary and focused on the important business of survival.

~

~

This mystery visitor seemed alone, elegantly formed but unfamiliar to my gardener’s eye.  Later, looking at its portraits, I decided it must be a butterfly because of the shape of its antennae.  I am hoping that one of my Master Naturalist friends will recognize our mystery visitor and supply its name.

Other more common pollinators fed nearby.  A Buckeye, bumblebees, skippers and other small feeders enjoying the Solidago and Verbena, Buddleia and Rudbeckia that drift in tangles in the upper garden.

~

~

“The important thing is not to stop questioning.
Curiosity has its own reason for existence.
One cannot help but be in awe
when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity,
of life, of the marvelous structure of reality.
It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend
a little of this mystery each day.
.
Albert Einstein

~

~

This morning was the first in a while that I dedicated to spending in the garden.  And it shows….

I’ve been timid about going outside to work after a sting that took weeks to heal.   And there have been things to do, and people to meet, and promises to keep.

I lost the rhythm of it, and the garden has grown on without taking any notice of my absence.

Rain and heavy dew has kept it well watered.  Wildness has grown dense and beautiful and has filled the paths.

~

~

Flowers bloom and seeds ripen.  The beautyberries have turned deep purple.  Vines twine where they will, and everywhere bees and all manner of small winged creatures have their way with the flowers.  Plumes of intensely gold Solidago sway in every breeze, leaning under the weight of their blossom.  And the greenness is so intense I can almost taste its cool and pungent bite.

February’s dreams are made of this.

~

~

I was torn, this morning, between photographing every beautiful thing and getting down to the business at hand.  Japanese stilt grass has claimed more real estate than I care to admit, and all the pots wanted a drink of water.  There is an ever growing collection of pots with plants wanting their roots freed into the soil.  There is some dead wood to prune away and Caladiums to dig.

Oh, so much to do before this warmth fades into November’s chill! 

~

~

But I chose the meandering path of a dilettante.  Up the hill and down the hill, hose in one hand and rake in the other.  I took inventory of the tasks at hand.  One must get one’s thoughts in order before accomplishing much of value.

~

Re-blooming Iris ‘Rosalie Figge’ has returned, so fragrant and beautiful.

~

But it is too soon to disrupt the magic of our autumn garden with digging and trimming back, and too warm, still, to begin planting the bulbs waiting in the garage.

I’d rather watch the butterflies, secure in the knowing that the first hard frost will do much of the work of weeding and clearing for us.

Soon enough, the garden will appear cleaned and tidied by the elements, soothed and covered in a blanket of fallen leaves.  And then there will be plenty of sunny mornings to prune and plant, tidy things up and mulch, undistracted by the flowers.

~

~

Better to appreciate it now, and celebrate its tremendous growth on this Fabulous Friday.  And wonder about our mysterious visitor, who shared the garden with us this morning.

~

~

“Love is an endless mystery,
because there is no reasonable cause
that could explain it
.
Rabindranath Tagore

~

~

Woodland Gnome 2018

*

Update: 

Many, many thanks to Master Naturalist Joanne Sheffield, who identified our mystery butterfly as a Long-tailed Skipper, Urbanus proteus.  Native to South and Central America, this butterfly does turn up in the Southern United States and can be sighted up into the Northeast. 

Its host plants include beans and other vine legumes, hog peanuts and Wisteria.  Its caterpillar is considered a pest when it feeds on snap beans.  We grow none of these, but this individual must have been attracted by the nectar rich flowers we offer.

What a great treat to see him today!  I will be curious to see whether more individuals show up this fall, and whether the Long-tailed Skipper becomes a regular visitor in our area.

*

Fabulous Friday: 

Happiness is Contagious,  Let’s Infect One Another!

Advertisements

Moss: Let It Grow

~

I love plush, moist green moss.  And I am always interested in reading about how other gardeners grow their moss.  Imagine my delight to come across a beautifully photographed feature on Dale Sievert’s gorgeous Wisconsin moss garden in the Fall 2018 Country Gardens magazine.  If you love moss, please treat yourself to this issue.

“The color green engenders a great sense of tranquility,

peace and serenity.” 

Dale Sievert

~

~

I am always looking for simple and effective ways to get moss to grow both in shady spots in the garden and also in pots.  The keys to good moss growth remain steady moisture and reliable shade.   Wonderfully, moss spores are often carried on the wind, ready to grow when they land in a place that offers the moisture and shade that allow them to grow.

~

A moss garden I constructed in February of 2012 using stones picked up on the beach in Oregon.

~

The first stage of moss growth looks more like algae than like typical moss.  It is low, smooth and moist looking.  From this, the buds and rhizoids will form, soon growing into recognizable moss plants.

If you live in a wet area, you likely see this early growth of moss on brick and stone and clay pots quite often.  If you love mosses as I do, you might also be looking for ways to assist this process to get moss established exactly where you want it to grow.

~

~

And I think I just discovered a new way to encourage moss growth that doesn’t involve organic milkshakes made with beer, buttermilk or yogurt.  Some writers swear by the efficacy of whirring up moss with one of these in a blender and painting it onto stones and walls.  Others say they’ve only ended up with a smelly mess.  I’ve put that experiment off to another day!

But I noticed recently, that the perlite topping off the soil mix of some newly potted up little trees, has turned green.

~

~

I potted up these rooted Acer cuttings within the last month, and moved them out to a shady spot on the deck to grow on.  You can imagine my delight at seeing a fresh green sheen on the perlite!  Is this an early growth of moss from airborne spores?

Think of perlite as ‘popcorn rock.’  It is volcanic rock that has been super heated to more than 1500F, where it puffs up and expands, now riddled with airways.   Perlite is light, soft and fine grained, making a valuable addition to improve texture and drainage in potting soil.

It is also very good for rooting cuttings because it holds moisture so well, while also allowing air to permeate the soil.  This helps to prevent rot in the stem and new roots of the cutting.

~

~

So it makes sense that moist perlite is a great medium for growing moss.  It isn’t a smooth base, like so many gardeners recommend for getting transplanted mosses established.  But it is a wonderful material for the moss rhizoids (not roots) to anchor onto as the plant develops.

Remember that mosses don’t have any roots.  They absorb moisture directly through their cell walls into the structure of the plant.

~

~

That is why rain, fog and mist encourage moss to grow.  If you are trying to encourage moss to grow, remember to keep the plants and their growing medium misted and moist.

I’ve been wanting to grow a sheet of moss for a while now, and picked up a terra cotta tray recently for that purpose.  Once I saw Dale’s gorgeous moss covered stones in the CG article, I’ve been thinking about how I can replicate the effect for my own pots.  Once I saw the moss growing on perlite last week, an idea began to form to make it happen.

~

 

A layer of perlite covers a thin layer of peat based potting soil in this terracotta tray. Terracotta also helps to hold moisture.

~

I’ve poured a thin layer of regular potting soil into the terra cotta tray, and topped off the soil with a layer of perlite.  I moistened the medium well, and then went out into the garden hunting for a few clumps of moss.  Some moss gardeners recommend breaking found moss up into tiny bits to sow into a new medium.

~

~

You don’t have to worry about having roots as you would with a vascular perennial.  Moss just wants to grow!  So I broke my hunks up into very small bits, and pushed them firmly down into the perlite before watering it all in.  I’ve set some stones among the bits of moss, hoping that by keeping it all damp I can encourage moss to grow on these small rocks.  I’d count that as a major victory in my moss growing efforts!

It is still damp and rainy today as the remnants of Hurricane Florence bring us a bit more rain even as they blow northwards and out to sea.  It is a good day for moss, and our garden is still very damp from days and days of rain.

~

~

I have this terra cotta tray set in the shade on the deck this afternoon.  When the weather turns dry again, I may tuck it into a plastic bag or cover it with a clear plastic box while the moss establishes.  But the moss in the Acer pots didn’t get any special treatment; this may not need covering, either, as our weather cools.

I want moss to grow on these stones so I can use them as decorative accents in our winter pots.  I haven’t decided whether to simply keep the tray of moss growing for its own sake, or whether to use sheets of the moss in pots.  Either way, I’ll show you what this experiment does in the weeks ahead.

If you love moss as I do, then you may want to try this simple method for growing it, too.

~

~

Woodland Gnome

~

The Mossy Creek Pottery Garden, Lincoln City, Oregon

~

“There is an ancient conversation going on between mosses and rocks
poetry to be sure. About light and shadow and the drift of continents.
This is what has been called the “dialect of moss on stone –
an interface of immensity and minuteness, of past and present,
softness and hardness, stillness and vibrancy, yin and yan.”
.
Robin Wall Kimmerer

Sunday Dinner: Pay Attention

~

“You are one of the rare people
who can separate your observation from your perception…
you see what is,
where most people see what they expect.”
.
Tsitsi Dangarembga

~

~

“To acquire knowledge, one must study;
but to acquire wisdom, one must observe.”
.
Marilyn vos Savant

~

~

“Do stuff. be clenched, curious.
Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead.
Pay attention.
It’s all about paying attention; attention is vitality.
It connects you with others.
It makes you eager. Stay eager
.
Susan Sontag

~

~

“Observation is at its core an expression of love
which doesn’t get caught up in sentiment.”
.
Takashi Hiraide

~

~

“Only when you observe with the intent to understand
you will discover the deeper truth.”
.
Tatjana Urbic

~

~

“For a Photographer –
Having an OBSERVANT MIND
is more important than having
an expensive camera.”
.
Sukant Ratnakar 

~

~

Photos by Woodland Gnome 2018
*
“The waves of probabilities collapse
into a physical reality
through observation by a conscious mind.”

.
Ilchi Lee

~

~

“The beauty and mystery of this world
only emerges through affection, attention, interest and compassion . . .
open your eyes wide
and actually see this world
by attending to its colors,
details and irony.”
.
Orhan Pamuk

~

 

 

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
~

Wild Life Wednesday: All Calm Before the Storm

~

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.

~

An early morning bumbly enjoys the sweetness of Rudbeckia laciniata.

~

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.

~

The Solidago, goldenrod, has just begun to bloom.

~

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.

~

Rose of Sharon

~

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.

~

~

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.

~

Ginger lily with orbs

~

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.

~

~

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.

~

Yorktown Beach, looking northwards towards Gloucester Point and the Virginia Institute of Marine Science

~

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.

~

~

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.

~

~

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…

~

Jones Mill Pond, near Yorktown on the Colonial Parkway

~

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.

~

~

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.

~

The York River, looking eastwards towards the Bay.

~

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.

~

Our Muscadine grapes are ripening over a long season.

~

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.

~

~

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.

~

This beautiful cluster of lichens was waiting for me beneath a shrub this morning.

~

Woodland Gnome 2018
*  *  *
“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.”
.
Alan Watts

~

~

“But when does something’s destiny finally come to fruition?
Is the plant complete when it flowers?
When it goes to seed? When the seeds sprout?
When everything turns into compost?”
.
Leonard Koren

~

Begonia

 

Fabulous Friday: Appreciating Small Successes

~

Every smitten gardener learns these two life lessons:  patience and appreciation.  Patience  helps one bide one’s time while nature’s processes unfold.  Sometimes the greatest skill in gardening is to simply wait and see what will happen.

I’ve been writing about the Alocasia plants that I saved over winter in the basement.  I didn’t have space to overwinter these huge plants indoors, and so allowed them to die back to just their tuber and roots in a paper grocery bag in our frost free basement.

When I brought them back outdoors and repotted them in May, it took quite a while for them to show new growth.  But, they finally  both awakened from winter dormancy and are back in gorgeous leaf again.

~

Alocasia ‘Regal Shields’ grew beside our front porch last summer, and moved into this pretty new pot a few weeks ago. The little one beside it was also slow to return this summer, even though it overwintered in its pot in the garage. I was ready to dump out the contents and re-plant its pot with something new, when I noticed the Alocasia leaves beginning to emerge in mid-June.  Alocasia are jungle plants and need summer’s heat and humidity to thrive.

~

I had potted them, this spring,  in black plastic nursery pots.  And then I found a great deal on a beautiful blue ceramic pot a few weeks back, and potted up the slower, smaller of the two plants in the pot and brought it out where we would enjoy it and it would be encouraged to take off.  Now it’s growing so fast, we can notice daily changes as it enjoys our Virginia summer heat and humidity.

I left the larger, more developed Alocasia in its nursery pot, tucked back into a stand of Canna lilies.  And my patience paid off on Saturday when I discovered the ‘scratch and dent’ pots at one of my favorite Richmond area nurseries.  The perfect blue pot sat there waiting for me, shining in the sunlight, with only a little chip out of its rim.

~

Checking the fit, to make sure Alocasia ‘Regal Shields’ root ball will fit into its new pot.

~

It is a good thing that I finally found the right pot and took care of re-potting our larger Alocasia, as its roots were already growing out of the drainage holes of its nursery pot.  Funny how quickly they grow, once they get started and have moisture and heat!

~

~

I always like to line my pots before planting them up.  I’ll use anything from coffee filters to paper towels, plastic mesh, fine wire screens, or burlap.  Lining the pot keeps fresh soil from washing out of the drainage holes before the roots can fill in to hold it.

~

A scrap of burlap lines the pot to prevent loose soil from washing out of the drainage holes before the roots can grow in.

~

The lining also serves as a barrier against the small creatures who might want to crawl up into the pot and make their home among the roots.  How often have you unpotted a plant and found the soil rife with pill bugs, ants, or even earthworms?  All sorts of creatures can find shelter in a pot, given the chance.

~

The soil in the bottom of the pot is important. I like to mix some gravel or perlite into the bottom inch or so for drainage, and mix fertilizer into all of the extra soil added to the pot around the root ball, to empower new growth.

~

Burlap lasts longer than paper. And it also absorbs excess water, holding it, and then releasing it back into the soil as the soil begins to dry.  It is especially useful in a pot that doesn’t have drainage, as it helps to keep the whole pot evenly hydrated.  I’ll often cover the burlap with a shallow layer of perlite or gravel, to make a little reservoir in the bottom of a solid bottomed container.

~

Remember to finish a pot with a mulch of pea gravel.  This helps keep the plant clean on rainy days, reflects the sunlight up into the plant and holds moisture in the soil.  I transplanted cuttings of Dichondra ‘Silver Falls’ to add a little graceful ‘spiller’ around the edges of the pot.

~

Eventually, even the burlap will break down.  Use the plastic mesh or metal screen to hold roots in and creatures out on a more lasting basis.  This is a good way to recycle those mesh bags our bulbs come packaged in each fall.

~

~

Patience nearly always pays off in the garden.  We watch and wait as our plants grow and the creatures come and go among them.  And that is where we also learn appreciation.  I’ve come to notice that the more we slow down, the more appreciation we can savor.

~

~

I was ready for the butterflies and hummingbirds this morning, camera in hand, and stood waiting in the front garden near the Lantana patch to see who might visit.

I noticed a friendly little Silver Spotted Skipper watching me from the highest point of the Lantana, and she let me take her photo.

~

~

We played for a while, with her flying around a bit before coming back to rest on the Lantana, a little closer each time.  She paused while I snapped, and then took to the air once again.

~

~

I heard the buzzing beside me even before turning my head to see the female hummingbird hovering near my shoulder, watching us.  She was very interested in our play, and waited until I began to turn my camera her way, before looping up and away, back to the comfort of a large Rose of Sharon.

Again, no photo of a hummingbird!

~

Hibiscus coccineus

~

But she and her partner have been hovering nearby most of the day.  They came to play in the spray of my hose this morning, and have been making the rounds of our garden’s Hibiscus offerings.  She paused to sip from the Salvia while I was working nearby.  Perhaps she and her partner can feel how much I delight in seeing them nearby.

~

Our hummingbirds visit these blue Salvia flowers regularly. Conventional wisdom tells us that hummingbirds prefer red flowers, but that isn’t always the case.

~

Why else would we expend such effort to tend a garden, if not for an August morning such as this, to stand in the midst of it all and appreciate its beauty?  We can savor the fragrances of herb and flowers, listen for the birds and watch the progress of each plant’s unfolding.

~

~

It is when we slow down to appreciate such rare beauty, that we may notice the  creatures who share it observing us, in return.  The skinks skitter away as we approach, watching us from beneath and behind their shelter.  Later, we may notice them peering in through the glass doors to the deck.

The birds follow us around from shrub to tree to see what tasty bit we may dig up and leave behind for them.  And now even the butterflies want to play, posing for the camera, and waiting patiently for us to see them.

Woodland Gnome 2018

~

~

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

 

 

 

 

Blossom XLIV: Brilliant Hibiscus

Hibiscus coccineus

~

Brilliant Hibiscus, Hibiscus coccineus, blooms in our August garden.  Its first blossoms unfold weeks after the Hibsicus moscheutos and Hibiscus syriacus begin their annual display. 

~

Last evening’s bud opened early this morning.

~

Also known as scarlet rosemallow, this beautiful Hibiscus is native to our coastal plain, here in the Southeast.  We live along its northern most range, and it is found more commonly south to Florida, and west across the Gulf Coast to Louisiana.

Hardy to Zone 6, brilliant Hibiscus grows in full to partial sun in moist soils.  This is a great choice for rain gardens, along streams or ponds, and places where the soil takes a while to drain.

Though a white flowered form is available, we have only the scarlet in our garden.

~

~

This beautiful native welcomes hummingbirds, butterflies, moths and bees.  As you can see from its outrageous anatomy, it offers hospitality like few other summer flowers.

It’s a large plant, growing to 6′ or more tall where its needs are met.  The flowers are large and are carried near the top of the plant.  It eventually forms a small clump, and like other Hibiscus, will spread its own seeds around in late summer.

~

~

Unlike our Rose of Sharon tree Hibiscus plants, these woody Hibiscus will die back to the ground each fall, and should be cut back before spring.  New stems emerge from the ground in mid to late spring each year and quickly grow, eventually forming buds by early August.

The buds will open, one or two at a time, and then brown as their seeds ripen.  Seeds are a favorite autumn treat for many birds.  The stems may be left in place through winter, or cut and used to construct shelters for many bees, small wasps and other insects through the winter months.

~

~

Hibiscus coccineus is a dramatic and beautiful plant through all of its stages of annual growth.  I’ve never found it grazed by deer or rabbits.  It takes little care from the gardener, aside from keeping it watered in dry spells.

You’ll find many hybrid Hibiscus bred with this native as one of the parents.  It is prized for its unusual leaves as well as for its flowers.  Look for hybrid cultivars with burgundy or purple leaves and plants that remain a bit shorter over the season.

Untroubled by heat, humidity, intense sun or torrential rains, this is a stalwart and dependable native for gardeners in the Southeastern United States.

~

~

Woodland Gnome 2018
*
Blossom XLIII: Verbena
Blossom XLII: Carrots in Bloom

Sunday Dinner: Uncertainty

~
“Embrace relational uncertainty. It’s called romance.
Embrace spiritual uncertainty. It’s called mystery.
Embrace occupational uncertainty. It’s called destiny.
Embrace emotional uncertainty. It’s called joy.
Embrace intellectual uncertainty. It’s called revelation.”
.
Mark Batterson
~
~
“Let go of certainty.
The opposite isn’t uncertainty. It’s openness,
curiosity and a willingness to embrace paradox,
rather than choose up sides.
The ultimate challenge is to accept
ourselves exactly as we are,
but never stop trying to learn and grow.”
.
Tony Schwartz
~
~
“As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality,
they are not certain;
and as far as they are certain,
they do not refer to reality.”
.
Albert Einstein
~
~
“Have patience with everything
that remains unsolved in your heart.
…live in the question.”
.
Rainer Maria Rilke
~
~
“You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.”
.
Max Ehrmann
~
~
Photos by Woodland Gnome 2018
*  *  *
“Everything you’ve learned in school as “obvious”
becomes less and less obvious
as you begin to study the universe.
For example, there are no solids in the universe.
There’s not even a suggestion of a solid.
There are no absolute continuums.
There are no surfaces.
There are no straight lines.”
.
R. Buckminster Fuller

~

~

“There are souls in this world
which have the gift of finding joy everywhere
and of leaving it behind them when they go.”
.
Frederick William Faber
~

How many insects can you count on the Joe Pye Weed today?

~
“So what do we do? Anything. Something.
So long as we just don’t sit there.
If we screw it up, start over.
Try something else.
If we wait until we’ve satisfied all the uncertainties,
it may be too late.”
.
Lee Iacocca
~

Summer’s Passions

Can you see the raindrops?

“Color is my daylong obsession, joy, and torment.”
.
Claude Monet

~

Once again, I agree with Monet.  And I believe it is the intensity of summer’s colors which inflames my gardener’s heart.  How would we ever believe it possible for such vibrant color and intricate detail to emerge from the muddy brown Earth, if we didn’t witness it for ourselves?

~

Buddleia davidii blooms against a clump of fennel.

~

“I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life.
He taught me that if you are interested in something,
no matter what it is, go at it at full speed ahead.
Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it
and above all become passionate about it.
Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good either.
White hot and passionate is the only thing to be.”
.
Roald Dahl

~

I was very, very young when I discovered the wondrous possibilities that can be coaxed into life in a garden.  There was the monstrous climbing rosebush rooted in our neighbor’s yard, yet blooming with delicate, sweetly perfumed shell pink buds in ours.  I would linger by the fence, meditating on this miracle of roses.

A few years later, there was the gift of vibrant Iris magically emerging from tall green stalks and gnarly brown rhizomes we had buried in beds dug specially to receive them the summer before.  I had never smelled such fragrances as those Iris emitted from their red and purple and yellow and pink and white and blue standards and falls, all embroidered in furry golden velvet.

~

~

“Enthusiasm can help you find the new doors,
but it takes passion to open them.
If you have a strong purpose in life, you don’t have to be pushed.
Your passion will drive you there.”
.
Roy T. Bennett

~

As soon as my parents taught me the secret of opening the Earth, and planting some small something, and watching it and caring for it and celebrating its growth; I was smitten.  We grew things together, large and small:  Rhubarb and Salvias, coleus and roses; impatiens grown under thick pine tag mulch that grew as large as the azalea hedge behind them.

My mother planted vegetables and my father planted flowers, until his hands shook so much he could barely fit the plug into the prepared pot I set before him.

~

Ironweed, blooming at the Williamsburg Botanical Garden this week.

~

“It is good to love many things,
for therein lies the true strength,
and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much,
and what is done in love is well done.”
.
Vincent van Gogh

~

And I planted, too.  And what began as a child working alongside a parent, grew into a passion for wildflowers and shrubs, climbing vines and herbs and big bold leaves and every shape and hue of flower.

What magic we can cast with spade and shears and water and Earth.  Birdsong and windsong sing incantations over the garden as it rises up from the soil, animated by the sun!

~

Sunflower and bees, WBG

~

There is no day so hot, that an impassioned gardener won’t stand out under the sun watering with sprinkler or hose.  There is no back so sore that we won’t find a way to get our precious new plants into the Earth.  There’s no February so cold that we won’t find time to prune and clean up for spring.  There is no summer evening so long and lingering, that we won’t find time for one more twilit walk around the garden.

It is another madness born from love; a passion and obsession beyond reason.  Sweat and mud, stinging insect bites and soreness can’t dim the vividness of our enthusiasm when we are truly smitten.

~

Hibiscus syriacus

~

“Everyday I discover more and more beautiful things.
It’s enough to drive one mad.
I have such a desire to do everything,
my head is bursting with it.”
.
Claude Monet

~

Butterfly garden at the WBG

~

How can we not be driven a little mad, when surrounded by the intense colors and perfumes of summer?  Stand in the middle of the garden, and slowly turn around, savoring every vivid leaf and petal.  It is July, and the world is intensely alive.  The buzz of life surrounds us.

~

~

It is passion that keeps us young, and obsession which keeps us energized.  But it is light and color which mesmerize and inspire our spirits.

*
Woodland Gnome 2018

~

 

Sunday Dinner: From Your Point of View

~

“The cosmos is within us.
We are made of star-stuff.
We are a way for the universe to know itself.”
.
Carl Sagan

~

~

“When you have once
seen the glow of happiness
on the face of a beloved person,
you know that a man can have no vocation
but to awaken that light
on the faces surrounding him.
In the depth of winter,
I finally learned that within me
there lay an invincible summer.”
.
Albert Camus

~

~

“One person’s craziness is another person’s reality.”
.
Tim Burton

~

~

“What we do see
depends mainly on what we look for.
… In the same field the farmer will notice the crop,
the geologists the fossils,
botanists the flowers, a
rtists the colouring,
sportmen the cover for the game.
Though we may all look at the same things,
it does not all follow that we should see them.”
.
John Lubbock

~

~

“Nothing is really work
unless you would rather be doing something else.”
.
J.M. Barrie

~

~

“In all affairs it’s a healthy thing now and then
to hang a question mark
on the things you have long taken for granted.”
.
Bertrand Russell

~

~

Photos by Woodland Gnome 2018

~

~

“It is a narrow mind
which cannot look at a subject
from various points of view.”
.
George Eliot

~

~

“If we are always arriving and departing,
it is also true that we are eternally anchored.
One’s destination is never a place
but rather a new way of looking at things.”
.
Henry Miller
~

 

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

Join 624 other followers

Follow Forest Garden on WordPress.com
Order Classic Caladiums

This Month’s Posts

Topics of Interest