Ah, the Animal Kingdom

There is no shortage of members of the animal kingdom that are heavily invested in cooling my jets this season.  In all my years of gardening I have never had a tick attach himself,  but my perfect record was broken a few days ago, so I'm on the ten day regimen of antibiotics now.  Lesson learned.  Check daily.  Cover up. Use Deet.

In a near-future posting I will address the issue of my snakes/my squeamishness.  But let's start with something cute.

This baby bunny IS irresistably cute, isn't he?

I discovered him in mid-May, nesting in a comfy, grass-lined depression under my poppy plant along with a sibling or two.  He's already chubbier than when I first saw him. Certainly, that is due to the salad bar known as "Lauri's Garden."  So far they have eaten my Achillea Pearl, Creeping Phlox, Coreopsis, Lupine, Dianthus zing rose, Aster, Echinacea Harvest Moon, Saponaria, Scabiosa and Veronica Spicata.  This morning I noticed he was adding Pomegranate Yarrow to his list of epicurean delights. I was introduced to Deer Defeat at a garden show in March.  In the Deer Defeat booth there was a binder of testimonials from customers who said it was the most effective product they had ever used to deter rabbits.  Anticipating a small problem, I purchased a small spray container.  I  used it selectively on plants I thought might appeal to rabbits, but as my problem grew, the container emptied. This product is very hard to find in local stores, but it can be purchased online.  Vile smelling, if it ever broke in transit my mailman would never speak to me or deliver my mail again.  While I await my refill, I'm liberally applying Liquid Fence, though that has not been terribly effective against rabbits in the past.  I welcome suggestions from any readers.  I would like to trap them in a Have-A-Heart trap and transport them to the middle of nowhere or even to the pastures of our land in Connecticut, but apparently that is against the law.  Due to the configuration of my gardens, a fence isn't even remote possibility. They certainly have slowed down purchases of new plants.  It seems rather pointless, doesn't it?  But I do console myself by rejoicing that there are flowers that are not on their diet, like my apricot iris.  Thank you, little bunny for finding this unsuitable to your palate.

Breathless in Hawaii

My own garden experienced a three week interruption this Spring.  I'm happy to say I had an "excused absence." My husband and I had an opportunity to visit Hawaii with dear friends.  What a delight for the senses. I just can't help myself - I have to share a few flowers of Hawaii.  In addition to Oahu and Maui, we visited Kauai, which is also known as the "Flower Island."   The lush greenery and flowers took my breath away at every turn.  The picture above was taken at the Allerton Garden in Kauai.  In 1938 Robert Allerton, artist/landscape architect purchased a portion of the plantation of Queen Emma, who reigned as Queen to King Kamehameha from 1856-63.  Before Allerton's death in 1986 he was able to fulfill his dream of establishing a tropical garden on U.S. soil.  His trust has maintained the gardens for preservation of rare species and enjoyment of all who appreciate flowers in rich settings of statuary, gardens, water features.

 This is the Allerton home  against a background of bougainvillaea tumbling from the mountainside: 

It's a challenge to select just a few pictures of and from the Garden, but here are some highlights:

Angel Trumpet Tree:  So lovely, and all parts so very poisonous:

This is Naupaka, which grows along Pacific seacoasts.  Here's an interesting tidbit for snorkelers - the leaves can be crushed and rubbed inside a snorkle mask for a natural de-fogger.

Like a teen-aged boy, this bamboo is busy growing eight inches a day!

In my opinion, the most heavenly aroma of the entire island belongs to Plumaria.

The construction of the Mermaid Fountain is such that it results in a small but regularly pulsing waterfall at its end, 54 pulses a minute.  It is said that if a person were to quietly reflect upon this for five to ten minutes, that person's heartbeat would become synchronized with the waterfall and this synchronization is known as "The Neptune Effect."

Moreton Bay Fig Trees:  These were brought in from Australia, but they obviously delight in the Hawaiian climate where they grown ten times faster.  These were planted only 70 years ago.  They are also known as Jurrasic Park Trees, for it is here in Allerton Garden where Steven Spielberg filmed the scene in which the raptor eggs were discovered.

I love a Secret Garden.  The Estate of Robert Allerton states that no statuary may be replaced or even repaired.  Ever.  He wished for his pieces to age gracefully and naturally:

The most unforgettable garden sight was of the lotus garden which seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see - huge blossoms sporting every shade of pink:

And finally, elsewhere in Hawaii, I snapped a picture of the beautiful state flower:  Yellow Hibiscus

I'm back home now, and ready to turn my attention to my own little paradise, my diminutive cottage garden, which is humbled by my recent experience, but yet so loved!  It is showing me a few visible signs of my neglect.   So, Aloha!  It's back outside for me.

Margaret Roach - Gardener, Author, Speaker

     Simply put, this is the best gardening book I have ever read, so I was not surprised that my drive to Salisbury Connecticut led me to one of the best gardening lectures I've had the privilege of attending.  Margaret Roach did not disappoint as she spoke upon the same tripod of excellence with which she wrote "The Backyard Parables,"  that of passion, knowledge and humor.  As I began her book several weeks ago, I had only reached page xvi (before chapter 1) when I read,   "Do tackle the philosphical equivalent of double-digging every time you step outside; please do." That was it for me. I tucked my feet under, and read on......and on..........and on.
     From beginning to end, her unbridled enthusiasm for gardening resonated with this gardner.  I know that if she were to come upon me at 7:00 a.m. in my garden, in my bathrobe,  floppy boots  and scissors she would not find it at all odd that I couldn't walk away from something that screamed "DEADHEAD!"  I am the one, after all, who ruined a pair of white shoes while on the way to the car to go to a wedding (and really didn't care.....I saved the vine).   It is because of her passion that she crawled through snow drifts in 7 degree weather to plunge her hand into an icy fish pond to repair a faulty de-icer.  It is this passion that brings out the best and worst in us by writing, "Never stop wanting more plants!!!"
       Margaret Roach honors every moment of  the 365 days a year in her garden as part of a cycle of life - conception, birth, youth, adulthood, death and afterlife.  As we navigate our way through the seasons, we are charmed, entertained and informed in equal doses. Numerous side-bars make it easy to reference the how-to's on numerous subjects from seed shopping to discouraging deer to mosaic underplantings to making refrigerator pickles. I was especially interested in her words on "Phenology,"  the relationship between plants and animals with weather and climate. An example she used was the wisdom of planting peas when the peepers are singing.  Makes so much more sense than "by St. Patrick's Day." I never actually knew there was a word for this.  It brought to mind my father, who probably didn't know the word either, but told us that the time to look for morel mushrooms is when the apple trees are in blossom.
      The writing and the speaking are sprinkled liberally with her humor, often comfortingly self-deprecating.  In this, her 25th year with her garden, she wishes her garden a Happy Silver Anniversary with an apology for being a control freak and critic "walking around with a stupid clipboard."   Preferring to garden in an old pair of khaki pants, she pokes fun at her own legs, which she describes as the "light deprived white asparagus of lower limbs." She admits, like the rest of us, that she greets visitors to her garden with  apologies rather than a welcome, "If only you'd come last week when the big rhodie out back was peaking......"  She advises us with the finesse of a sledge-hammer not to mourn the loss of a plant.............. "Bury your dead and fast."
        Margaret Roach's offerings are woven together with stories of her past, her childhood, her relationships, her memories, all of which support her abiding faith in the seasons of life.  We learn that Jack the Demon Cat was a stray that she found in her driveway at the end of a terrible day, September 11, 2001, when she had driven away from New York City as fast as her car would take her.  We feel the pain and sorrow she experienced when, as a young woman, she nursed her mother through early onset Alzheimer's.  We can understand the tender vulnerability of a relationship with a sister.
     Not to be left out of my barrage of good things to say is her way with words.  An  invasive plant is a plant with "imperialistic tendencies."  The sound of branches snapping from trees during a heavy snowstorm is "arboreal artillery."  Is it no wonder that this is an absorbing book?
    I could not leave the event without asking her to sign my book with my favorite words of hers, which are of course,

Thank you, Margaret Roach, for the book, the lecture, and the advice (not that I ever needed anyone's permission!)

   

February Stirrings

     This is the view from my kitchen window.  When we planned this house, significant consideration was given to the placement of a window from which I could see the garden while washing dishes.  It is within this viewing area that I try to have something that lightens my heart no matter what the season.  In Spring it is the mound of Bath's Pink Dianthus stretching their slender stems toward the stone wall.  In early summer it is the soft but stately apricot iris.  In autumn the Anenome Sylvestris and Helenium Bruno will give joy rather than sorrow about another season drawing to a close.  One year I had planned a pairing of Pink phlox and purple balloon flower to take care of late summer.  But the phlox became mildewed, the balloon flower was just uncooperative. Every time I washed the dishes I saw something that "bothered" me.  And so, OUT with the bad, and in with a favorite white salvia and a couple of friendly daylilies to restore my kitchen window "happy place."
     Now it is late February, the wind has not let up in days, making mid-twenties feel like single digits. But this is what I see.........I see hope!!  The trellis marks the spot of the Angelique Clematis that was afflicted with wilt last year. I cut back all the foliage, the plant disappeared but I will be checking this spot daily when Spring comes, to see if Angelique fought back.
     At times I have felt guilty for letting my blog go during the winter.  I had every intention of featuring   a favorite gardening book or a gardener or two who have inspired me.  But the larger part of me knows that just as the roots and bulbs go dormant, perhaps my blog needs a dormant period, too.  Maybe after eight months of gardening passion my central nervous system or my heart needs a rest.  And that is just what I have taken.
     I think the reason there are bare spots at the base of the plants in the picture is because energy is returning to the roots as they seek the sunshine.  Likewise, I feel the deep inside stirrings.  It is certainly not from warm temperatures.  Maybe it is from longer days of brighter sunshine.  Or that I folded down a few corners of the Burpee Seed catalogue yesterday. Or that I am certain I heard a bird on my walk that I never hear in mid-winter, a sound so surprising and fleeting that I couldn't even place it.  Or that a friend in Connecticut reported the sap will soon be running. Whatever the reason, I am filled with gratitude that another season is just around the corner.

November

"To be interested in seasons is a happier state of mind than hopelessly in love with Spring."

        - George Santayana-

Boo!

     

I snapped this picture just before Jack Frost crept in to kiss my annuals good-bye.   The temps had not dropped below 36 all season until last night when the mercury plummeted to 22, affording very little chance for annuals to survive.  But it is time.  I almost finished all the Autumn chores before Jack's deadline.  Tomorrow I will put away my garden accents and dig up the dahlia tubers for storage.  My back is aching and ready for winter's rest.  My cardboard carton of garden clippings, notes to self, magazines, garden maps, plant labels etc is in total disarray.  There will be many chilly nights ahead for bringing order there.  As a schoolteacher, I loved my work, but looked forward to summer as a time to renew my energy for another year. There was a rhythm there.  And so it is with gardening.  But March will find me poking around where the snow has receded to see if the helleborus likes the spot I moved it to.  And so will begin another season.........