July in the Garden

July has been, historically, the "Month of the Great Blahs" in my garden. The sweetness of Spring blossoms which were nurtured by early rains are only a memory by July. The second putting forth of blossoms, encouraged by June's shearing back have not yet emerged. Japanese beetles, and a plethora of their garden pest friends chomp their way through foliage. Little diseases pop up here and there which leave me scratching my head. The soil hardens and becomes less hospitable to both my flowers and my camera. But forewarned by experience is to be armed for attack. I've tried to embrace the un-fun aspects of gardening and be more of a problem solver. And I have looked to plants that will actually flourish in this, the hottest month of the year. (And okay, I confess that I'm enjoying and using the "crop" feature of my digital photography as a sneaky way to eliminate patches of brown, defoliation.....)

Annabelle Hydrangea, liatrus and shasta daisy are my July friends.

My Aubrey Johnson daylily, in turn, is a friend to the hydrangea.

More on July's bountiful daylilies in a future posting.

And I finally, finally, have the sweet peas of my dreams.

Inhale, hold that scent to the count of four, exhale.

Astilbe Season

It's Astilbe season!! My shade garden this year has hosted columbine, lily-of-the-valley, astrantia, hosta, japanese fern, coral bell and lupine. But right now astilbe is holding court. Most of my astilbe came from my Pittsburgh garden so I feel as if I am greeting old friends when I see their feathery plumes.

But one astilbe is new to the garden this year. I saw Astilbe "Milk n' Honey" in a slide presentation at the Gardening Seminar I attended in April. It set my heart a-flutter! My husband will attest that on the rare occasion that I get tunnel vision about a plant, not finding it is not an option. I could only find one nursery in a 25 mile radius that carried it. I threw myself at their mercy on the telephone and begged them save one for me. They were happy to oblige. Here it is in its first year. The plumes have the puffiest, softest pink at the base. Only v-e-r-y gradually does the pink climb the plume. I hate to play favorites, but I think this is, shhhhhh, my favorite this year.

Location, location, location

I'm sure I've never before had an astilbe that is shoulder high. This one has blessed me this year. I can only believe that it must be the location, where it gets morning sun followed by filtered mid-day sun followed by afternoon shade. The "location factor" gave me pause to reflect on two comparisons elsewhere in the garden:

This is the sweet pea's "happy spot." They are in good soil which is protected from drying out. Early morning shade, sun most of the day with late afternoon shade. They have reached the top of twine I provided and today I had to string more twine up the railing to keep up with their exuberance to climb. I just can't wait to see and smell their blossoms.

But.... the flip side. This picture was taken at the "other" sweet pea location. When the very brown seedlings (which you can barely see at the base of the trellis) reached their maximum height of 5" and refused to climb I disassembled the whole system. The seedlings did not even dignify a toss onto the compost heap. Live and learn

Last year a friend invited me to help myself to all the myrtle I could dig from his lot. I put small transplants wherever I wanted to cover the foundation. It LOVED this spot on the North side of our house and one year later it has rewarded me with glossy green leaves in abundance.

And this is the myrtle that I planted where there is strong southern exposure. It is struggling, whimpering, begging for mercy. The experimentation and constant moving around are all a part of the fun, the challenge and the mystery of gardening.

Nature's Art

Look closely. Can you see it? It greeted me on my bathrobe garden walk this morning.

Lupines

I've enjoyed a long love affair with lupines. I especially love their peppery smell which reminds me so much of walking through the garden of my great aunts. But I have found them to be on the "difficult" side in the zones in which I have gardened. They do appreciate a bit of shade and they are leery of winter. I sometimes have to consider them to be annuals (albeit expensive annuals!). It's been tricky to buy them mature enough to flower the same season as purchase, yet young enough to set forth blooms without transplant trauma to the foliage. But lupines, I will never give up on you. I knew my lupines this year were "pot luck" colors. I couldn't have been happier. I had never seen a raspberry one such as the one pictured here.

I was also happy with my apricot and yellow lupine, especially when I looked past my apricot iris to see it. Which brings me to the dilemna with which I am always faced when the lupine begins to go to seed. If I leave it alone the seed pods will dry, burst and sprinkle seeds for new plants next year. But the waiting period leaves me with a plant that is unsightly such as ......

this. My solution this year was to cut back all but one stalk, pretend I didn't see that stalk and enjoy them while they lasted! I may lose the mother plant over the winter, but hopefully she will leave me in charge of her children.

Where Old Friends and Garden Tours Meet

June has been a good month for garden tours. The first of two I attended was sponsored by the Garden Conservancy and took us to the beautiful Hudson Valley garden of Peter Bevacqua and Stephen King (www.pbgardendesign.com).

Stephen and I graduated from 8th grade together in Falls Village, CT and had not seen each other since graduation night. I have been in the process of locating the members of that class for a 50th reunion. Not only was it wonderful to see Stephen again, but I was delighted to learn of his connection to this beautiful garden and to pay his garden a visit. English in style, two acres are divided into garden rooms, divided by unusual and well established trees and shrubs and woven together by lush perennials. It was like walking through a gardening coffee table book.

The Schenectady County Soroptomist Garden Tour was a little closer to home and featured the garden of a friend I have known for 30 years. Karen and I have shared many cups of coffee over the years and more school bus waits than I can count. Visiting her garden is like "coming home." I could almost hear our children's voices in the garden spot that used to be the sand box. Karen truly loves working in her garden and it shows.

I always have mixed feelings after garden tours. Part of me is inspired, hopefully the greater part. But the tours also speak to the defeatist making me believe that I am a very flawed gardener indeed. I brought one or two observations back into my own garden this time. One is that I need to work on order and neatness. The second observation is that I need to soften the chaotic cacophony of color. And so, in my "post garden tour stress syndrome," I sat looking at my garden, chin in hands, gave myself a generous moment to pout, pondered the challenges, then picked myself up, put on my gardening gloves and went to work.