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!

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

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.