Garden Diary

2012-01-15T12:58:00.000-08:00

Now where did we leave off recording the Garden in July, - right after the first week?

The days are long and warm

I am up early, in the cool of the morning, to enjoy the lilies.

Especially the fragrant ones.

And then we got terribly busy and didn't take any more pictures of the garden on the hill until August, when we were settled a little in town and I could find time to go up the hill and commiserate, - but not with the fllowers. They were as gay as ever, and responding beautifully to the regular watering Sid was giving them...

In town I prepare the raised veggie bed with bags of compost,

ready to transplant peonies first, and then all

the other perennials I can squeeze in!!

October arrives, and I visit the hillside garden to gather flowers for the church

The roses continue blooming, enjoying the quietness and the cooler autumn weather.

As the days go shorter, and fall gathers in, the pot marigold and the chamomile

flourish and brighten the days I go to visit them.

Charles's curly willow have released, and make magic of the lane to the house.

I gather visitors from the Chinese Underground Railway and hang them out to dry!

The lady fountain, the benches and the bird feeders come to live in the shade of the

town gasrden, behind the white picket fence. What will they think of this confinement?

Will they find it cosy and loving?

and in the meantime, back at the ranch, the mums and the leaves

of the peony combine with the scarlet maple to provide a riot of colour.

Finally, in November, I go to the garden one last time and find

this gorgeous poppy making a valiant and beautiful effort to say 'goodbye'

Now the snow embroiders the sedum, and crystallizes the roses and their bright red hips

Next month, in February, I will go back to search for hellebores, and the beginnings of buds,

and to help tidy the garden for spring so neither she, nor I, will feel woebegone!!

2012-01-07T15:05:00.000-08:00

The garden, unaware of packing boxes, downsizing and general confusion,

continues its fertile and beautiful dance with sex, all during July

The end of the first week of July

and there are scandalously beautiful things going

on in the garden! Right

under our very noses, which alas, are too often in packing boxes.

2012-01-04T21:41:00.000-08:00

Late June in the garden on the hill

Iris from the back garden

the sun on the mountain and poppy time

in the garden

Canterbury bells that will have to come to town in the spring.

The Philadelphia Orange that smells so delicious

and that I will miss so sorely....

Pink Climbers

Morning sunlight filtered through orange poppies

and so we go into July....

2012-01-03T22:14:00.000-08:00

January 3rd, 2012

My last post here from the Garden on the Hill was in June, just before the confusion of moving descended upon us and there was no time for blogging.

But there was time for wandering in the garden, a little for weeding and pruning back, and the camera went with me each time I wandered the garden path or knelt to pray over soon to be abandoned plants. Well, not really abandoned, but I wouldn't be there to watch them mature, to bloom, to fade, to be replaced by the rich colours of fall.

Now, with winter upon us, - short days and long evenings, I have time to go back into the files and find the record of the garden that I snapped on brief visits until the frost took over. Some of the peonies and daisies and delphiniums and roses and hellebores have come with us, and are tucked into the erstwhile veggie garden at the new house, and perhaps more will come in the spring, but for now, here are the remaining flowers of June, 2011.

This is the garden until the 17th of June, and my next posting will cover the rest of that most perfect month.

2011-06-10T21:53:00.000-07:00

"And since all this loveliness cannot be heaven
I know in my heart it is June".

Abba Woolson

It is the time of the Iris, out in the garden

and they are really quite beautiful

The 10th of June and the garden is still a little slower than last

year, but the plants have been loving this cooler weather and are growing

quite stupendously, vigorous and green and bursting with energy.

The peonies are heavy with buds and in the last few days the first of the

beautiful rich blooms have opened and I smell their perfume as I walk the

garden path or clear my way through the beautiful green jungle that the garden is becoming.

Words from Vita Sackville West

"It always seems to me that the herbaceous peony is the very epitome of June. Larger than any rose it has something of the cabbage
roses voluminous quality; and when it finally drops from the vase, it sheds its petticoats with a bump on the table, all in an intact heap, much as a rose will suddenly fall, making us look up from our book or conversation, to notice for one moment the death of what had still appeared to be a living beauty."

I walk in the cool of the morning and the fragrance of the evening

and all around me new blooms are calling to the bees

with great exuberance.

a work in progress along the lane

I am watching for the pretty pink prairie princess to cover herself with flowers

in time for Pentecost

or perhaps a poppy or two will be out to lend their brightness

to the red hangings at the altar and the hovering scarlet helium balloons

tied to the pews.

Tomorrow should see a few canterbury bells, and maybe some delphinium.

And what is so rare as a day in June
Then if ever come perfect days.

James Russell Lowell

2011-05-26T13:16:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 26th, 2011

The garden loves this weather. I gaze at it through the windows that this morning were streaming with rain and see the alium, a lovely glistening purple globe, and the tree peony with its beautiful blooms that only last for a short time, but the common peony is all budded up, and the true scarlet flowers on the Oriental Peony linger on.

I go out to admire them, but once I am bent over my eye sees only the recalcitrant coutch grass and I go immediately into eradication mode! Such a saucy grass - when I figure a plant is finally in a neat and beautiful mound up pops the Coutch grass, waving at me from across the pathway, all but thumbing its nose at me.....

The new little Bridal shrub we bought last year is coming to the end of its blooming period, - still small and lovely. The hawthorn tree, on the other hand, had taken off and is reaching for the sky with its pale pink blooms.

Of course those beautiful but invasive buttercups that arrived with the Oriental Peony fill in all the blank spots in the garden and provide a rug to lay at the feet of the taller plants.

I stop to admire the first of the columbine, and the lovely new white tulip alongside the trailer/cum loom room.

As well as the lone bloom on the little lilac bush that loiters in between the curly willow and the sumac trees.

It quite evidently needs a new home where it can grow like all the rest of the lilacs in the valley.

It is veritably awash in pale mauves, double french and dark royal purples.

It is time to tidy up The Lady Fountain, - give her a sprng scrubbing and start the fountain flowing.

Things are late, - but as lovely as ever.

2011-05-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

May the 14th, 2011

The Eve of Easter 4

And I have been away from this blog since Easter Day. Is it the cold, unfriendly spring that has deterred me from enthusiasm?

Goodness knows I have been constant in the battle with the weeds and coutch grass, but when I went out into the garden yesterday to fill small pots with contributions to a plant sale I was horrified - absolutely horrified!!!! Everywhere I stepped the grasses and yarrow, the dandelions and Chinese Lantern were conducting a massive invasion, - and the violets were beautiful but calling for a bed all their own far off on the other side of the pasture as they encircled the roses and daisies and grew up between iris corms and just generally made the garden their own.....

If you take a quick snap of the flowers and the luxurious growth all those weedy things manage to duck down and make as if they are not there, but real hands on gardening reveals all. I'm sure they couldn't have all grown in the last few warm days, but I did think I had things pretty well under control, - sigh....

Ah well, here are a few pictures of the burgeoning greeness and I will cast a blind eye at all the happy little weeds and plants that are entirely out of place.

The gorgeous golden perennial alysum that spreads along the driveway near the steps.

A few bright cheerful red and white tulips

their more flamboyant yellow cousins, who returned rather sparingly this spring

lovely rows of bright blue grape hyacinth that encircle the beds of daffodils who are busy now storing up goodies for next spring, having put on a splendid display this year.

The flowering almond was fragrant and most exuberant, but the blackbirds

feasted on Forsythia buds, and the shrubs are just now starting to look respectable,

having leafed out quite beautifully.

And the pretty pink double tulips have begun to lose some of their vigor,

and were smaller and more delicate this year.

each year is different than the one before it, or the one to follow it, and I suppose

that helps make gardening such a precarious adventure.

Will the roses survive the early bitter November winds, and the sudden cold snap?

Most of them did, but the lovely grocery store roses were blooming their

little hearts out when the cold came, and one is completely dead this spring.

The others are trying valiantly, but not sure the prognosis is that good.

I lost all the foxgloves (except for maybe one that might make it) but, although a disapointment,

it wasn't a surprise. The Canterbury bells that are coming into their

second year are developing lovely green skirts and will probably

bloom before June arrives.

Today, after we had taken plants to the sale and I had purchased a three or four pots

to bring home, we drove around by the old garden to inspect the Korean Viburnum.

It is about twelve feet high, - has never been pruned since we moved away and

had to abandon it, and was in full scented bloom, enough to make one quite giddy with the perfume.

Unfortunately, no small runners that we could salvage, but I brought a bouquet home.

The lilacs are on the verge of full blossom at the old garden, - here the little one I planted has just one bloom.

I think it needs to move house!

I leave with a bleeding heart, but will be back soon!

2011-04-24T19:44:00.000-07:00

April 24th, 2011

Easter Day

Daffodil time in the Garden

A few red tulips

Some fading Hellebores

The vibrant peony stalks

and the perennial alyssum on the verge

of glorious yellow blooms.

Some visitors to the garden...

Still waiting for the hummingbirds and the orioles

their feeders hang in the curly willow with a welcome sign....

Everything has been watered, - the cutch grass has been engaged in a couple of skirmishes

Tomorrow the cloudy skies return

but the garden flourishes despite inclement weather

and a late and fickle spring.

Ah, who will tell me, in these leaden days,

Why the sweet Spring delays,

And where she hides - the dear desire

Of every heart that longs

For bloom, and fragrance, and the ruby fire

of Maple buds along the misty hills

and that immortal call that fills

the waiting woods with song?

Henry Van Dyke

2011-04-13T16:11:00.000-07:00

The fad is all for doing things SLOWLY, and I think that Spring has cottoned on to this idea and is applying it to her visits to the Garden. A little here, a little there, - sip slowly and savour it all; the leisure with which the rich red peony stubs emerge from slumber and the slow ballet of leaves, opening in tiny increments their glorious greenness.

It is so very awesome that it happens at all, and the very slowness reminds us not to take Spring for granted, but to relish every gift, every bright green blade and every pregnant blossom, - yes (sigh) even the cutch grass!!

An hour in the iris and peony bed this morning, with the shovel and the trowel, digging up great lengths of cutch grass. I can't believe how quickly it takes over, - the narrow bed along the fence line, where two years ago the sunflowers reached high for the heavens and the bees and the birds gloried in their lushness, last year became a nursery for curly willow cuttings, and somehow made great patches of cutch grass welcome as well.

The Canterbury bells I planted last year are lovely, large rosettes, but the foxgloves are a dismal failure. I will go early to Don and Anna's greenhouse and try to get some second year plants. The one out of a dozen that bloomed last year was so beautiful, and I can't understand why I have never been able to foster the great elegant patches of this wonderful plant that is so prevalent in English gardens. Is it because it is so dry here, - or did I not give them adequate winter protection? They looked so promising in the fall, and now I search in vain for any small green shoots. I won't give up on them, - perhaps they too are luxuriating in spring's slow march into May and will surprise me as time goes on.

I brought in a dozen daffodils to put in a pitcher with some forsythia branches, - the few that weren't denuded by the mischievous blackbirds. And some small daffodils and lenten roses to make a small bouquet for the table.

We are still under a pewter sky and as I look toward the Cawston Bench I see the tops of the hills are shrouded in what appears to be a small snow squall.

Slow indeed!!!!!

2011-03-26T20:21:00.000-07:00

Spring, Spring, Spring!

Two months I have been watching for signs of awakening underground, and now, finally, the garden shows sweet green shoots and lovely clusters of small tender leaves, no longer hesitant and shy, bur prepared to take the stage and join the dance!

These beautiful bright shoots are heart warming, although not very photogenic. Still, here is a picture of a pussy willow catkin, and the scarlet maple, pushing its swelling buds and delicate branches even further skyward this year.

This morning I added four great wheelbarrow loads of stems and twigs, dried flowers and soggy leaves to the compost heap, and gloated over the dark rich loam at the bottom of the pile.

I have been reading Diane Ackerman, - Cultivating Delight, a natural history of her garden. It has given me so much pleasure. Her intimate knowledge, her awareness and the marvelous turn of phrase and captivating descriptions, not only of the flowers that live in her garden, but all the other delightful creatures that inhabit it as well. What draws me to her even more is our shared love of Abraham Darby, that lovely peachy, apricot rose, fragrant with the most appealing scent.

And here she is amongst the lilies

My morning inspection of all the roses was most satisfying - the Abraham Darby seems to have survived the winter in good health, judging by her swelling buds and vibrant stems, as have all the others lovelies.....

Such a gorgeous rose.....

I must go now and light some candles

Tonight we observe 'Earth Hour" and turn off all the power between 8.30 and 9.30.

What shall we do by candlelight!!!!!!

January blahs

2011-01-15T07:38:00.000-08:00

Here is January again, - the remnants of Christmas keep us going the first week or so, but when you arrive at the middle of January there are definite signs of the blahs that low clouds and misty greyness do nothing to banish.

A mild day seduced me to linger outside after filling the bird feeders.

I had brought the camera out, in foolish expectation of maybe poking around and finding the Hellebores sending up even the tiniest little bump of promise. Only the spring flowering shrubs, - the forsythia and the flowering almond - show any signs of sap rising, although across the fence the neighbour's peach trees have taken on a lovely amber hue.

I wander down into the orchard where the occasional tree bears a forgotten apple, plump with fermented juices, ready for a spirited Saturday afternoon spree when the starlings discover them.

I examine the curly willows for any sweet spring swellings, but they sleep on, and along the fence line the naples yellow of the fall grasses glow in the intermittent rays of sunshine that peek out through the clouds.

This little apple spur is the only hopeful sign I found of rebellion against January's miserable countenance.

Back in the garden I looked for anyathing that might be photogenic, watching for waving arms and whispers that say 'pick me, pick me' but they were few and far between. A wisp of weed, throwing a faint shadow on the snow, the tracks of the troop of quail that come for morning goodies,

The bird chalet sits vacant, awaiting the return of any small birds it might appeal to as housing.

Behind the frosted windows of the big bathroom/solarium the geraniums and the last of the paper whites still bloom.

and inside the first of the amaryllis with their seductive sepals and brilliant scarlet satin lighten up the darkness of January.

If tomorrow it is still mild I will call for a drive through the valley to see what other signs of spring there are along the lanes and around Ginty's Pond, and I will continue to keep an eagle's eye on the garden, searching for little bits of green and swelling buds.

Early November Garden

2010-11-03T20:18:00.000-07:00

November 3rd, 2010

A touch of frost this morning, but not enough to damage any of the annuals, - the cosmos and the nasturtium keep blooming, along with the last of the roses and a magnificent display of chrysanthemums.

An Abraham Darby rose has passed through all its splendour, but still it's tattered petals cling in amongst the leaves after three weeks of blooming.

Two years ago this rose barely survived the winter storms, but has come back beautifully. With the prospect of another cold winter we will certainly do our best to protect it from the winds, hoping for a thick blanket of snow before the frost comes. I would be so sad to lose it.....

Here is the garden as we came to the end of October, a glorious month.

The whole blooming canvas, and some of its parts.

The garden is a delight, but when we cast our eyes to the far distance we see the

whole valley in a gold and russet glow, and down in the orchard

the trees arch across the aisles and create a cathedral effect

that is beautiful, peaceful and holy.

Before the rains come it is time to pile on the mulch and look forward to next year's beauty
(for which I am so grateful)

Garden, October 21st, 2010

2010-10-21T22:00:00.000-07:00

Garden Diary

Here we are, past the middle of October, and still the garden shimmers and shines in the sunlight, packed tightly with exuberant colour in the chrysanthemums and the remnants of the summer flowers and roses.

Yesterday I planted tulips in the back bed and along the west end of the house, and today I planted narcissus in the cutting bed by the patio, - used up all the bonemeal and luckily found the bulb planter.

The last full bloom and a little bud on the Abraham Darby, - will the weather hold until the bud opens?

The pretty yellow rose by the inner path.

And the shastas tucked away at the back.

Grocery store roses, - so hardy and so beautiful.

and the older yellow rose that grows along the roadway.

The sumac that Charles peers at threateningly because of its wandering ways.

but so vibrant in the fall.

The white rose

and the Prairie Princess

Some shaggy Mums

the scarlet maples are beginning to lose their vivid leaves

and here is the last of the sunflowers

Despite all this glorious bloom I know it is time to start thinking of mulching and preparing for the first frost and the end of Indian Summer

These are the days when birds come back,

A very few, a bird or two

To take a backward look

These are the days when skies put on

The old, old sophistries of June -

A blue and gold mistake.

O fraud that cannot cheat the bee

Almost thy plausibility

Incites my belief,

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear

and softly, through the altered air

Hurries a timid leaf.

O, sacrament of summer days

O, last communion through the haze

Permit a child to join,

Thy sacred emblems to partake,

Thy consecrated bread to break,

Taste thine immortal wine.

Emily Dickinson

Indian Summer

2010-10-07T21:45:00.000-07:00

October 7th, 2010

Fall is drawing in, but even though the Mum's have not yet added their full colour to the garden it is still looking quite appealing.

I post these pictures silently, but a little browsing will reveal which of the sturdy summer and fall flowers soldier on, and the fact that we have removed the sweet pie vines to the compost heap and the sunflower heads to a little pile on the lawn that attracts the small birds. Soon we will move them along the fence.

You have to look carefully to see the answer to the problem of weeds and grass growing in the garden path, - a vintage tarp from trucking days, cut up and tucked along the pathway.

Tomorrow I will cut flowers to decorate the church for Thanksgiving, - if it is sunny I will have to battle the bees in the large aster plant - at any one time there are probably between 217 and 263 bees, gathering honey......

Pay particular attention to the one lovely foxglove that deigned to bloom this year, - we will have to protect the other eleven through the coming winter, along with the canterbury bells that have put in their first year and are prepared to ring out all over the garden next summer!

2010-09-25T18:57:00.000-07:00

September 25th, 2010

Reminiscing the importance of this date in days gone by, - Charles' parents wedding anniversary......

Special fond remembrances of Granny's beautiful peony beds and the heritage sweet peas we still grow in our own garden and distribute seeds to others in the family. I am considering a little box of these precious seeds in everyone's Christmas parcel.

When I came home from town today Charles was busy harvesting the sweet pea seeds, putting them

in a barrel to give them plenty of room to pop open all by themselves.

Last night David sent spectacular pictures of the meadow, well advanced into fall

with the trees all the beautiful shades of Autumn.

Not so here, - I noticed this morning a dozen scarlet leaves had blown to the ground from

the scarlet maple and down at the bottom of the pasture the leaves on

the sumac are beginning to change into fall attire, but

the garden is not so flagrant. The changes are subtle, - the sunflowers are mostly

round seeded heads and the sedum glows in the sunshine, but is a softer, mellower shade

when the autumn clouds gather.

The star of the garden right now are the two grocery store miniature roses that

are putting on a fabulous show, - covered with beautiful buds and blooms

that just go on and on and on.....seen directly below

The remains of summer and the beginnings of Autumn.

The Chrysanthemum are not yet in bloom so, barring a heavy frost, we should have

brightness and beauty in the garden until the end of October

Many things grow in the garden that were never sown there - for instance,

here are the fruits of the Chinese Lantern that arrive by underground railway,

and are now hanging to dry on the deck, in all their glowing beauty.

It is good to be alone in a garden at dawn or dusk so that all its shy presences may haunt you and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought. James Douglas

2010-09-09T19:47:00.000-07:00

The September Garden on the ninth day of the month.

Looking slightly dishevelled and neglected

with the Sunflower Cafe open to its small bird customers

and with small bits of summer flowers blooming amongst the autumn asters and sedum

A straight soldierly sunflower volunteer stands guard beside the deep red climber.

and around the corner on the west side of the house the newly planted

Blaze has reached six feet or so, and celebrates with a scarlet farewell to summer

on each side the whorls of the spent clematis shine in the sunlight

in odd places the successful immigrants who arrived on the Chinese Lantern Express

smirk at me, even one tall plant whose hiding place had been discovered

six feet up the sweet pea fence as the plants fade and the seed pods form.

The remainders of the Roses bloom on valiantly

On Monday we shifted the large orange daylily from the middle of the

garden to various other spots, - along the west wall, a few flagging the patio and some

in the bed by the trailer. I wish them all well.....

I cherish them all, but still, it is the ladies who crashed the party who bring

the most vibrancy and generosity to the garden

as the small birds gather to feast among their lovely golden hearts.

As I wander the garden a gnome whizzes by on the driveway, flashing a reluctant grin.

2010-08-29T17:04:00.000-07:00

As August sidles into September

The gates of summer, once open wide like the arms of absent friends

begin to close, haltingly, with rusty hinges creaking in cool mornings.

The fireflies that rose in steaming clouds from humid backyard lawns

have disappeared overnight as though deported to another country,

leaving thrumming cicadas overhead, pulsing like high voltage wires.

Now great baskets of tomatoes, sunset crimson and dusky orange,

delicate raspberries, their jeweled caps painting picking fingers purple,

with seed like tiny pearls, sweet and tart with days of rain and sun,

await the sauce pots and canning jars to hold their garnet ripening.......

Holin Kennen
Summer's End an excerpt

I was so very touched by the above words, and they awakened such wonderful memories and images in my mind - tried to contact the poet for permission to reprint, but my efforts were in vain.
I have included as much information as I can about her bio, and provide the above link which will take you there.

Summer is saying her prolonged farewells and the garden has shaded her eyes, watching for fall to touch the tops of the hills and slide on down into the valley, trailing gold and scarlet in its wake.

Since the last diary entry the glory of the gorgeous white phlox has faded, but for most of August it was a wonderful flower to place on the altar each Sunday and pass along to gardenless people when the service was over.

The bee balm are weary with the summer's dance, - their bright red tutus are tattered and torn and they droop their heavy heads. As a consolation the fragrant sweet peas have climbed the obelisk at whose base they were planted and proclaim to the world and its olfactory senses how beautiful they are and how perfectly yummy they smell!

The second flush of roses is fading somewhat, but they have been quite beautiful in the last two weeks, - especially the Abraham Darby and the little 'grocery store' roses.

The climbers have all given late summer the nod, and are blooming profusely.

The delphiniums and one solitary oriental poppy have recovered from their June orgy and are making another appearance on stage.

Down the road Charles tends his row of curly willows and they have responded with enthusiastic growth and the promise of a wonderful green hedge to line the driveway.

On the other side of the lane Caspar and I peer into the leafy dimness of the orchard, lit by ripening apples hanging like small gold and crimson lanterns.

The morning glory vine spreads along the side of the garage and holds court before noon and its afternoon nap.

But when all is said and done it is the time when the sunflower is seen in the land, nodding its golden head in varied corners and fields, along roadways and in the middle of gardens, - wherever its abundant and fertile seed has fallen it seizes the opportunity to bring sunshine to late summer days.

I walk out on to the deck and startle a dozen or so gold and rosy breasted finches, interrupting their breakfast at the Sunflower Bar and Grill. They rise into the air and fly off to take cover in the curly willow.

Last week a full moon shone down on the garden

and in the daytime smoke drifted down from the wildfire west of town

Here is the sedum, preparing for September days, - the bees eagerly anticipating full bloom and full tummies.

Every summer

I listen and look

under the sun's brass and even

into the moonlight, but I can't hear

anything. I can't see anyting -

not the pale roots digging down, nor the green

stalks muscling up,

nor the leaves

deepening their damp pleats,

nor the tassels making

nor the shucks, nor the cobs.

And still,

every day,

the leafy fields

grow taller and thicker -

green gowns lofting up in the night,

showered with silk.

And so, every summer,

I fail as a witness, seeing nothing -

I am deaf too

to the tick of the leaves,

The tapping downwardness from the banyan feet -

all of it

happening

beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And therefore, let the immeasurable come,

Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.

Let the wind turn in the trees,

and the mystery hiding in the dirt

swing through the air.

How could I look at anything in this world

and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?

What should I fear?

One morning

in the leafy green ocean

the honeycomb of the corn's beautiful body

is sure to be there.

Mary Oliver

Little Summer Poem Touching The Subject of Faith

2010-08-17T20:51:00.000-07:00

Mid August

And only occasionally the fragrance of autumn rises on a cool damp morning. Mostly the days still retain all the heat of summer, and the countryside is dry and vulnerable. Almost four hundred fires in the province, and some days are still and smoky.

The garden, though, is changing imperceptibly as the flowers of fall start to mature and the roses bloom in the midst of their midsummer flush.

My thoughts turn to dividing and moving the iris, and finding a new home for the great orange daylily that has risen like a high rise amongst its neighbouring cottages, - the statice especially has become hidden under the vigorous flaring leaves of the lily. The lovely low spirea has been invaded by roaming canterbury bells, and needs room to spread and form a little hedge. I think of it along the orchard fence at the back, with a border of sweet smelling alyssum.

Sunflowers against the smoky hills the first day of August

Some intense volunteers determined in their exotic beauty

the vibrant orange daylily ' flossing' - which I understand is American slang for showing off!

the garden on the 9th of August

and on the 14th, with the white phlox perfuming in the daytime and the evening scented stock at night.

the arbour climber blooming enthusiastically again

The roses bloom again, the big rusty spider spins his web outside the elegant birdhouse,

the sedum is in the pink and the first of the asters portends a great massive bloom well

into October.

Lots of weeding to do, -the large non-flowering violets to dig up and the Chinese lanterns

who managed to sneak into the country to be attended to, - lovely in their orange splendour and I'm glad I turned a blind eye to some of them!

2010-08-01T22:31:00.000-07:00

The first day of August, 2010

Well, July has come and gone in just the twinkling of an eye, the space of a heartbeat, - quicker than you can say Jack Robinson.

"Answer July—
   Where is the Bee—
   Where is the Blush—
   Where is the Hay?

  Ah, said July—
   Where is the Seed—
   Where is the Bud—
   Where is the May—
   Answer Thee—Me—"
- Emily Dickinson, Answer July

It has left us with memories of lilies and roses, a friendly swathe of whites daisies, the last of the delphiniums and the bee balm at it's very best. The gayest memory of all, and perhaps the most fleeting, is that of the volunteer poppies and wildflowers that made such a merry bed along the side of the trailer cum loom room, and swallowed the new iris and peony bed in their wonderful exhuberance.

The foxgloves and the Canterbury bells that I planted this spring are sturdy, but not showing any signs of blooming this year. However, they may be September belles.

In the centre of the front bed the large orange daylily has grown to gargantuan proportions, crowding the neighbouring phlox and the statice and peonies, - they are marked for removal to the perennial beds I hope to make at the back, with a half a dozen more inches of nice rich soil, - will the compost produce that much? Surely with the hundred of wheelbarrow loads that get dumped on it, - the results of weeding and deadheading and cutting back of spent plants.

There are other plants in the garden that should be divided and moved - the lavender daisy and the perennial alyssum, the bee balm and bits of delphinium that would probably flourish in new soil.

The sedum blooms are growing large and promising, and the delphinium that were cut down at the end of their blooming are once again a couple of feet tall, - healthy and vibrant and ready to bloom well into autumn.

Another harbinger of fall, - the sunflowers that shade what was the potted garden and is now a little cutting garden. Not too successful this year, - the white nicotiana turned out to be pink and the white flax is not what I had thought it would be, but the evening scented stock is glorious in the evening, and the scented sweet peas are just starting to bloom and spread their fragrance on the night air.

I am deadheading like mad, trying to keep ahead of the heritage sweet peas that have grown to the top of their extended support, and are beautiful to behold with their lovely delicate blooms - no fragrance!

Along the garage the morning glories are starting to make a nice showing, - - along with nasturtiums they seem the best bet for that particular spot, and I won't try to grow sweet peas there again unless the soil is greatly enriched and an enclosure built to extend it another six inches or so.

More July treasures.

"Fairest of the months! Ripe summer's queen
The hey-day of the year
With robes that gleam with sunny sheen
Sweet August doth appear."
- R. Combe Miller

2010-07-26T20:24:00.000-07:00

3rd update on the early summer Garden

" Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability."

- Sam Keen

But only in the afternoon, - in the morning we deadhead and collect errant weeds that grow in the shade under blooming plants. The compost heap grows by leaps and bounds.

"Blessed be the Lord for the beauty of summer and spring, for the air, the water, the verdure, and the song of birds."

- Carl von Linnaeus

Some purple nicotinia in a pot

the seeds of the fragrant white that I planted did not deign to come up - not this year, anyway....

Courting visitors on the old blue bird feeder

The daylilies grew well in their new spot at the end of the house

Early chrysathemums take the place of the lavender daisy

Just one lone lovely stalk of bells rising above the broad leaves of the agapanthus (I think)

The double shasta daisies come and go, so quickly. They require constant deadheading, but I find when I do the promise of new buds further down along the stem.

The small blue clematis that winds around the willow tree it came with

The perennial sweet peas grow ever fuller and taller, - beautifully delicate,

and dear because of the memories they bring.

The first sunflowers that have come unbidden, - but what would the garden be like without them.

A lovely summer moon rises early in the evening, bidding the sun begone.

and beckons one out to enjoy the cool of the evening

We are now up-to-date! It is the 26th of July and I will post again at the end of the month.

The beauty of the perennials is so transient, - here today, gone tomorrow.

It is necessary to be very aware, - to spend time in the garden with open eyes and an open heart.

To say farewell to the bloom that fades, and anticipate the bud that swells with promise.

2010-07-25T22:15:00.000-07:00

Part 2 of the early summer update......

“When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege

it is to be alive - to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.”

- Marcus Aurelius

"On this June day the buds in my garden are almost as enchanting as the open flowers. Things in bud bring, in the heat of a June noontide, the recollection of the loveliest days of the year - those days of May when all is suggested, nothing yet fulfilled."

- Francis King

Grocery store Roses

Some of the lovely lilies that grow in the garden

Some bright sunshine to carry us through until October

The Hollyhocks are sad this year, blighted and their leaves full of holes.

The garden at the end of June

Another grocery store rose

The poppies that came uninvited but welcomed with open heart

Sweet William that wandered over from the garden, along with the lamb's ears

Bee balm, a bright spot at the back of the bed

A fancy poppy in red tutu

More lilies

A medley of poppies and roses

The Shasta daisies come into their own

2010-07-24T19:39:00.000-07:00

July 24th, 2010

Too much digging in the garden, - not enough writing about it!

A little update on July amongst the current blooms.

Summer arrived on the 21st of June, - still cool and pleasant but since then the days of early morning gardening and snoozing afternoons have come upon us.

But here is the garden while yet the temperature was being kind to the tender fragile blooms.

The roses still flourished, at the height of their first flush.

The new astilbe, a dainty, creamy spire at this stage of the game.

Katie brought a lovely bouquet from her rose garden

A canterbury bell surprised me next to the pathway, blending in with the miniature bridal wreath.

The lavender daisies

Lilies and poppies and the remnants of the white delphinium.

Miss Callie sunning herself on the bench beneath the Philadelphia Orange

and at night a full moon smiles benignly down on the sleeping garden

Lilies and roses, again

a gorgeous bloom on the mock orange, pure and fragrant

So green, so vivid, and the evening scented stock smells so heavenly

and, in the evening, it is all just a little mysterious

Observe this dew-drenched rose of Tyrian gardens
A rose today. But you will ask in vain
Tomorrow what it is; and yesterday
It was the dust, the sunshine, and the rains.- Christina Rosetti

2010-07-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

Skywatch Friday

Frustration! Sunday and Monday we had the most spectacular sunsets and I could hardly wait for Skywatch time to arrive.

When it did I was not able to write a new post on my blog, Daybyday! However, my Garden Diary is so far intact, and so here is my contribution to Skywatch Friday today.

Monday, June 28th

Sunday, June 27th

For other beautiful skies from around the world visit here at Skywatch Friday.

2010-06-21T20:43:00.000-07:00

June 21, 2010

The First Day of Summer

Woke at 5 a.m. to pouring rain - Caspar and I both back to bed!

At seven the rain had stopped, - a few brights spots in the sky, and since then it has been dry and overcast, with gusts of wind bending the trees and stirring the flowers in the garden.

The fourteen day forecast predicts temperature below normal, and the little icons at the top hardly ever show a bright sun, - just various degrees of clouds and showers.

But the gardens have flourished in this cool rainy spring - they have grown tall and luxuriant, - the poppies especially have been like great orange bowls hiding their dark silken tassels in the depths.

June has not been merry and bright, but it has been kind to the garden.....

Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity. John Ruskin

To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat

Beverly Nichols

Flowers have spoken to me more than I can tell in written words. They are the hieroglyphics of angels, loved by all men for the beauty of their character, though few can decipher even fragments of their meaning.

Lydia M. Child

There is an appointed time for everything, and there is a time for every event under heaven - a time to give birth, and a time to die;

A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

On this June day the buds in my garden are almost as enchanting as the open flowers.

Things in bud bring, in the heat of a June noontide, the recollection of the loveliest days of the year - those days of May when all is suggested, nothing yet fulfilled.

Francis King

The flower offered of itself and eloquently spoke of Gods in languages of rainbows, perfumes and secret silence, Phillip Pulfrey

Gardening imparts an organic perspective on the passage of time.

William Cowper

I'm glad I am alive, to see and feel

The full deliciousness of this bright day,

That's like a heart with nothing to conceal;

The young leaves scarcely tremblin; the blue-grey

Rimming the cloudless ether far away.....

A profusion of pink roses bending ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring

William Carlos Williams

O Day after day we can't help growing older. Year after year spring can't help seeming younger.

Come let's enjoy our winecup today, Nor pity the flowers fallen.

Wang Wei, on Parting with Spring

Give me at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed. - Walt Whitman

Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes and the grass grows by itself.

The Gospel according to Zen

Flowers are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty out values all the utilities of the world.

Emerson

When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive - to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love. - Marcus Aurelius

And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;

Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,

And over it softly her warm ear lays.

James Russell Lowell

The garden, like the labyrinth, requires a going in and a coming out.

Happiness? The color of it must be spring green, impossible to describe until I see a just-hatched lizard sunning on a stone. That color, the glowing green lizard skin, repeats in every new lea.... The regenerative power of nature explodes in every weed, stalk, branch. Working in the mild sun I feel the green fuse of my body, too. Surges of energy, kaleidoscopic sunlight through the leaves, the soft breeze that makes me want to say the word 'zephyr' - this mindless simplicity can be called happiness.

Frances Mayes, Bella Tuscany

And this is the garden in the midst of June - I have put my knitting aside and closed my eyes to the dust that shimmers in the sunlight and the making of stews and the baking of pies.

Life is delightful, and the morning hours in the garden pass quickly, in enchanted moments, - even those devoted to the delicate weed removal from tender young annuals that will be charming in August. I throw aside my gloves and get lost in that wonderful green energy.

2010-06-02T20:25:00.000-07:00

The garden at the beginning of June....

A very liquid May has resulted in the garden rejoicing that its thirst has been quenched

and it has burst forth with gladness!

The Iris are magnificent, - strait and true, - spendid flags proclaiming the coming of summer.

And the peonies are lush and full blown, with satiny petals and lovely perfume.

In the morning the flax is awash in new heavenly blue blossoms that quiver and wave in the breeze, which today has been quite strong. Causing them more to bend and bow rather than quiver and quake.

The climbing roses are in full bloom, except for the newly planted Blaze (2009).

The other roses are covered with buds, - especially the Prairie Princess. I am curious to see what the Darby blossom will be, - some of the exuberant stems I am sure came from the root.

The poppies and the delphinium are in the beginning glory stages

along with the clematis. of course...

Two lovely anniversary presents grace the garden -

St. Francis of Assissi providing water for the birds from the dear Meadow people

and three pretty garden lights from my sister Dot

And now the program won't allow me to upload any more pictures so I will go and busy myself elsewhere.

2010-05-15T23:07:00.000-07:00

May 15th, 2010

Some pictures from the garden, this lovely May day.

Peonies

The little bit of cutting garden ready to be planted with fragrant night time flowers.

Late spring that feels like early summer, - at least today.

2010-05-08T22:14:00.000-07:00

The darling buds of May

Half an hour in the garden this afternoon and everything was vibrating...

Wherever I looked the plants were pregnant and pulsing with energy, - busy, busy, busy in the little green factory, making buds for June flowers!

Earth's crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes -
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

- Elizabeth Barrett Brownbing

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud

was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

- Anais Nin

Now that you've seen the preview, do come back for the SHOW!

2010-04-18T22:04:00.000-07:00

April 18th, 2010

Tulip time in the garden....

Ramona - a lovely favourite with sentimental ties

A delightful pink tulip whose name I have forgotten

Pat's pretty red and white tulips

The last few days of sunny weather with the occasional shower to refresh the thirsty flowers has made such a difference in the garden. Everything vibrant and growing, - and of course that includes the coutch grass and the dandelions (whose lovely golden blooms make the pasture glow but whose deep roots and spreading leaves are not welcome in the garden).

My time in the garden is a constant skirmish with the grass and the dandelions, but I am on constant lookout for the first sign of the underground Chinese Lantern Railway!!!!

The daffodils are looking sad and need to be snipped, but there are a few late double daffs which are really lovely.

A lovely pink blossom tucked behind the Elephant's Ear, and next door the yellow Alyssum reflects the sun.

The flowering almond flanks the little patio which is quickly being covered by a ran-a-way thyme plant.

In the orchard the apple blossoms are showing pink, and the cherries and plums and peaches are in full bloom.

Small bits of sky fall to earth and brighten little corners with the glorious blue of the forget-me-nots and the tender shade of the violet.

Soon, when the soil warms a little more, I must plant some annuals. Some nicotiania, nasturtiums, four o'clocks, morning glory, zinnias and oh, many more to put in pots along the front of the house when all the dandelions and others spreading weeds have been dealt with.

What a man needs in gardening is a cast-iron back, with a hinge in it. ~Charles Dudley Warner, My Summer in a Garden, 1871 - and a woman even so...... my thoughts tonight after two or three hours in the garden - my current battlefield.

2010-04-07T11:48:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

Yesterday was one of the occasional sunny days we have been having lately, and so I put in my alloted time in the garden (which alas diminishes every year - an hour at a time is pushing it these days). Nevertheless, it was productive and enjoyable and I dispensed with a number of dandelions and a few square yards of the prolific vine that escaped a few years ago from pots I put out to fill empty spaces.

Were there ever any empty spaces in this garden, - well, not for the last few years.

I noticed there were buds on the peonies, - both the regular ones and the oriental, and the red tulips are on the verge of blooming.

When posting pictures of the old Lost garden to Daybyday last night I jotted down a few plants I would really like to have in the garden here.

Astilbe / canterbury bells / pearly everlastings / evening primrose (the little ground hugging ones) and some lovely smelly regal lilies. I will try to do something about them this year.

Here are some pictures of the garden as it is.

sweet violets

a little clump of King Alfreds

first blooms on the bleeding heart

red tulips from Pat

the Oriental peonies after a shower

peonies, growing by leaps and bounds and starting to bud

the elephant ear hides its blossom before it starts reaching for the sky

the flowering almond on its way to becoming a vision in pink

the rhubarb which looks delightful but alas, seems woody again this year

K mountain, in a lacey cap this showery April day

2010-03-31T22:48:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, March 31st, 2010

I had planned my morning quite meticulously, and all was going on schedule until Caspar slid off the couch and let me know he would like to go outside, - urgently. So off we went, me with my blinkers on so I wouldn't get lured into the garden.

On the way back I couldn't help looking at the lovely daffodil blooms and the pink flowers of the Elephant's Ear - and of course one cannot look a these treasures without being assaulted by the coutch grass!!

Caspar was dumped into the house, and I went back to the garden, trowel in hand, and just for a few minutes! I didn't even have the camera, but here are some of the pictures I have taken over the last few days.

I forgot to photograph the ubiquitous coutch grass, - next time!

2010-03-19T20:51:00.000-07:00

March 19th, 2010

A great day in the garden with the help of Cindy Anne and Cam.

Moved the lovely barn flowers after dividing them into a dozen bags. Some C.A. and Cam took home for themselves and Louise, - some we transplanted and some I am saving for Dorothy and Sharon and anybody else who would like them making a great golden tower in the midst of their garden, - or along a fence.

C.A. and Cam took more perennials home with them, along with the looms and some wool, and then I went out and took some pictures of the burgeoning greenery and the winsome spring plants.

2010-03-06T21:04:00.000-08:00

March 6th, 2010

Grand re-Opening of the Garden Diary Blog got postponed last night because of nefarious activity on the part of the little men who have taken up residence in my computer.

I wrote a nice little record of the state of the garden, and posted some really great pictures depicting the return of Spring. Previewed the post, - all was well, - went to Publish, and some bodies snatched away all but the last sentence, right in front of my eyes!!!! Why didn't they take the last sentence too, - I don't know. Guess it just didn't tickle their fancy.

So here is tonight's effort, - a blessing on it and may it reach the Publish state successfully.

The weather has been beautiful the last few days, - the quail are coming in twos to the feeder. Sometimes threes, and then there is a squabble about which male has primary rights. The bees are buzzing amongst the Lenten Roses, and the trees have a faint aura of green - things are electric - everything is jumping!

Charles has been pruning shrubs and I have been removing old dead stalks and leaves from the perennials - it is beginning to look quite ship-shape.

The daffodils, - on the verge and passionate about being amongst the first on stage!

The Lenten Roses, delicately hosting the few bees that accompany the robins' song with a buzzing bass.

Over in the shade of the curly willow a bleeding heart unfurls its ferny stems and leaves.

Small clusters of violets hug the emerging iris and peonies.

The tiny Daphne is preparing to release its gorgeous fragrance as its petals open wider each day.

The sweet blue of the sky makes a perfect background for the maples, stretching out their white limbs festooned with scarlet buds.

A small border pansy from last year is the first spot of sunshine yellow in the garden.

The rhubarb is up, and yesterday I bought seeds for salad greens and peas which I plan to quickly plant in the veggie boxes.

We have been down to the Lost Garden and clipped a few branches from the Korean Viburnum in the hopes that we might be able to propagate it, - Charles snipped off extraneous bits, some of which contained buds and ended up in a small vase on the kitchen window sill. It has such a beautiful fragrance, and it has been impossible to replace it in the five years since we had to leave it behind when we moved.

While we were there I saw that the beautiful forsythia that Charles pruned so carefully and creatively is almost in bloom, as is the Star Magnolia. The Trumpet Vine has not been pruned and I longed to bring some of it home to see if it would grow roots for us. (large sighs)

It is a vulnerable time, especially for the fruit growers, but all signs point to a blessed and genuine early spring, God willing!

2009-11-16T22:06:00.000-08:00

Garden Diary
November 15, 2009

How desolate the garden has looked in the last couple of days as a wild wind sweeps through it, rustling the dry stalks and whistling through the shrubbery and the curly willows.

The pansies have succumbed to recent frosts, and although they still present little patches of lemon yellow the petals are limp and pressed forlornly against the frosty leaves.

Indoors, where the Christmas cactus are now living after a summer in the garden, they have decided to bloom early and make a pretty picture on the wide window sill in the big bathroom.

I hesitate to pot up the paper whites before the beginning of December in case they too jump the gun!

And the amaryllis I save for February to get us through that last month of winter (hopefully).

2009-10-31T21:22:00.001-07:00

Garden Diary
October 31st, 2009

Finally, blue skies and sunshine and a few hours to work in the garden.

Out with the snippers and I plunged right into the middle of all the confusion. Cut back the roses, especially the ones that were so badly damaged and have come up from below the graft, healthy and green but with no blooms.

All the sunflowers that sprang up in the garden have served their dual purpose, - first for beauty and then for food for the small birds, so they got pulled up, or snipped off, whichever was easiest. All except for one great potted one that had grown right through the pot and into the soil underneath. I got the pot up out of the soil and Charles managed to get the sunflower out of the pot. We will leave it in a handy spot for shelter for the birds, and any seeds that might linger.

The delphiniums and the lilies gave up their dried leaves and stems, and the shastas. I cut off a few peonies, and by this time the wheelbarrow came into play, hauling everything away to the compost heaping and leaving the garden considerably neater than when I started.

Charles brought some pumpkins around to the front steps, in honour of Halloween, and I hung up a black dress that a witch might wear, and a pointy hat, along with some witches shoes, a black umbrella that would be useful in the rain that came along about noon, and the witch's transportation, = a kitchen broom (the handle of which she flies off of when she gets frustrated....)

I took some pictures of the last of the leaves that glowed in the sunshine, and was grateful for these few hours of enjoyment as we put the garden to bed.

2009-10-23T20:58:00.000-07:00

Garden Diary
October 23rd, 2009

The garden is awash in Russett. Well, not really awash, - it has more or less settled itself into these earthy colours - the greens have faded into a soft grey, and the leaves that had an underlay of brilliance just a few days ago have taken on a more sombre hue.

It is still lovely, but oh, so badly in need of a loving hand bearing sharp snappy snippers.

2009-10-10T22:03:00.000-07:00

Garden Diary October 10th, 2009

First frost last night. Woke to a -4C temperature, and the nasturtiums all fallen around themselves, devastated by the frost.

Had picked the roses and the green tomatoes and brought the geraniums into the house to winter in the bathroom on the wide sill where the sun shines generously.

The chrysanthemum are still only partially in bloom, - very partially. Hopefully the weather will get warmer again and we will be able to enjoy their beauty on into November.

Here is a rose that got left behind, but weathered the frosty night quite nicely.

The grasses are delicate and subtle, - beautiful earth colours, - a naples yellow, the distinctive green of autumn and an occasional fiery red.

A couple of exquisitely elegant shasta daisies, entirely out of season and so a pleasant surprise.

The sumac, as seen through the curly willow, lend a certain delicacy to the more brilliant colours.

It is time to put the canna lilies to bed, - but first I have to find a place to bed them down where the temperature is just right....it is time to think winter.....

2009-09-30T21:15:00.000-07:00

Garden Diary
September 30th, 2009

How can September have flown by so fast....

The garden begins to look as if it is entering into October, - the roses in their last flush, the chrysanthemum buds about to open into riotous colour and the sedum still looking quite splendid as they mature.

The new Europa planted this year had done particularly well, and has some lovely rich red blooms as we go into October.

Another first year bloom, - the Pink Delight.

A little corner of the garden with asters predominating, - splendidly!

Another lovely rose, and below a new sunflower bloom.

The row of curly willows along the roadway....

and the man who planted them, tended to them, and flits by on the tractor every once in a while....

Tomorrow I will plant more double peony tulip bulbs, some daffodils and some tiny white narcissus around the forget-me-nots.

2009-09-24T19:24:00.000-07:00

Garden Diary
September 24th, 2009

A new steam cleaner has kept me busy with carpet cleaning this past week, but with the weather continuing to be sunny, not too hot and just perfect for being in the garden I ventured forth with the small garden shovel, a wheelbarrow full of top soil and my garden gloves.

I started the sprinkler at the end of the garden where the soil was getting dry and then moved on to devastate the couch grass and dig up patches of the large violet plants that have been filling in any empty space in the garden that they can find. A few bulbs popped up, but I reburied them in the freshly dug ground, and wished them well.

Charles cut the lawns yesterday with the garden tractor, so everything is looking quite spiffy up here in the back pasture.

While taking a little tour around the outside perimeter of the garden I came upon the beautiful purple clematis that climbs the centre of the willow that came along with it as a small seedling.

These cheerful yellow daisies have been blooming in the garden since June, enjoying the sun and the rain and the birds that come and feast above them. They show little sign of closing shop.

They are joined here by some late white delphinium.

Here are the Autumn Joy Sedum - they are scattered through the garden so their loveliness is shared in all parts.

Most spectacular of all is the fall Aster which stands almost six feet tall and is in full bloom these days, to the delight of the bumble bees.

The various roses, and the phlox, are enjoying the sunny days and cool nights.

Even these two pretty 'grocery store' roses....

I look at the garden, darkly, as through a veil of grasses...

I left the shovel and the wheelbarrow in the middle of the garden path - encouragement to spend another delightful hour gathering up the invaders.

2009-09-16T21:01:00.000-07:00

Garden Diary
September 16th, 2009

The Iris that needed more sun are now tucked in around the peonies at the back, and I hope this will be a happier bed for them.

Apart from transplanting I only had time to vanquish a few clumps of cutch grass and diminish the size of one of the mint plants. But I will be back!

The sedum are looking glorious now. And the white phlox has had a little burst of adrenalin, - lovely in their purity.

One of the generous sunflower plants that feed the little birds, who all rise up in a panic at the sound of a footfall.

Caspar and I wandered down the road to find the doors wide open and welcoming at another Sunflower Bar.

The apples grow red and round and rosy as they ripen....

Down the aisle a translucent light and the laden trees invite one to tread the soft green carpet, and rustle through the golden grasses.

The faintest hint of fall in the scarlet maple trees...

and the autumn asters.

I pick a few of the hardy yellow daisies that have been in bloom since June, to add a little cheer to the house.

2009-09-11T20:33:00.000-07:00

Garden Diary
September 11th, 2009

The days are simply scrumptious, - calm, cool and sunny with a lovely tang in the air.

This morning I started to removed some of the depleted annuals from around the peony bed, where I want to plant the Iris that Vince dug up for me, out of the shade. They have been in a little nursery pot for almost a weeek, and time that they planted their little corms over a hump of nice rich earth, with the roots dangling down on each side into the newly dug earth. They had not been doing well in the shade, - it is so important for the corms to protrude some of the ground in order to gather the sunlight to themselves and manufacture those lovely irises that bring such pleasure.

From early in the morning, all through the day, the goldfinches and other small birds are making themselves at home in the sunflowers and the cosmos. The leaves move in the sunshine as the birds flitter here and there, and at the least creak of the door they are all up and away, into the curly willow trees where all is safe and cool and green.

There are a few late delphiniums but many of the stalks were broken when a wild wind blew the barn flowers over on top of them.

Roses are meeting the challenge of fall, - the large purple aster plant is well on its way to domineering the garden (now that the barn flower has been cut back to a more civilized size).

There are pretty cosmos and nasturtium, - every where the plants are enjoying the cool fall weather.

Bedtime - more tomorrow.

2009-09-03T21:03:00.000-07:00

September 3rd, 2009

Neglecting the blog, but not the garden...

Yesterday I dug some wild buttercups that have been crowding out the iris and the oriental peony. And while I was at it I transplanted some of the iris that is growing where it is too shaded. Away from where it didn't bloom this year, into the peony bed where it is replacing newly planted peonies that just didn't take.

The barn flower is getting skimpy as I cut out long stems with withered blooms on them. Soon I will be able to cut them all down, and allow new growth, so that during September and October it will be a more civilized size.

My mind is busy re-arranging the garden, - making room where treasured plants have become crowded - especially where those enormous violet plants have taken over.

Here is a picture of Sheree in the garden when she visited on Sunday.

Lots of fall work still to come, but all of it a pleasure. Well, - digging not so much so. Not the next day, anyway.

2009-08-28T20:49:00.000-07:00

August 28th, 2009

Pictures from the garden, taken this evening. Just pictures!

Lovely parts, but the whole of the garden is badly in need of a general tidying and a selective 'move or remove' program..... What better month than September.....

2009-08-24T20:17:00.000-07:00

August 24th, 2009

Here is August. The heat lingers into the last week, but there is an underlying coolness that speaks of fall.

Early in the morning, while the air was still fresh, I gathered up another wheelbarrow full of errant weeds and non-blooming violets. (What are these large violets that grow so voraciously in every nook and cranny)?

Yesterday I pruned the east side of the barn flower as it was leaning heavily to that side and pressing the new growth of delphinium to the ground.

The Canna's increase in bloom each day, and are looking quite spectacular.

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One of my fall garden tasks must be to hunt up some yellow marking tape and tie it on each of the plants that need to be moved next spring, to make more room for its neighbour and give the garden a more civilized look.

I dream of a four foot swath around the outside edge of the garden as home to all these sturdy plants. Charles sees it as a spot for a thriving vegetable garden! He is pleased with the cucumbers and tomatoes and peppers we are enjoying from the garden.

2009-08-20T21:33:00.000-07:00

August 20th, 2009

The days are hot and sultry, - typically August. It is hard on the garden and the beautiful white phlox is looking tired and bedraggled, - even disheveled.

There is a faint and delicate flush of roses, (as opposed to a hearty one) and the Cannas grow more lovely every day.

The first of the asters is in bloom - the bush grows tall and elegant and soon it will be a marvelous purple bar for bees and butterflies. As the sunflowers are for the sweet gold finches that frequent the strip.

2009-08-17T19:48:00.000-07:00

Monday, August 17th, 2009

Here are the Canna lilies, as promised. Still not in full bloom, but showing promise of being absolutely spectacular.

I walked with Dorothy to the car when she left this morning, but didn't make it back to the house for an hour and a half. There are three quite enormous piles waiting on the driveway for the wheelbarrow to trundle by. The garden is beginning to look less 'jungle-like' (except of course for the barn flowers) The rain was welcome, but very hard on the phlox, and it bent the barn flowers side-ways so that they are leaning precariously atop the delphinium that are putting on tremendous growth right now.

Around the perimeter of the garden where the delphinium have spread, eager for a little space and a view of the meadows, some of them have budded and in a week or so we will have a second flush of lovely pastel bloom.

The nasturtiums remind me of my grandmother's garden where they grew along the pathways. And the chickweed. It grew abundantly under the back 'stoop', cooling the crawl space and making it green and moist and inviting when the afternoons grew hot and sultry.

The delicate pink poppies keep opening their paper thin petals to the hot sun, and are matched by a pretty pink double cosmos, a volunteer from last year.

2009-08-13T20:29:00.000-07:00

Thursday, August 13th, 2009

Some delicate fugitive poppies, fancied up a bit for dancing in the gentle breeze.

And a couple of painted ladies, tossing their heads!

The Cannas are just beginning to look like exotic birds, - a picture tomorrow, even if it's raining.