Autumn Sun

Fortunately the good weather for working outside came on the same days that I am able to do the work.  The fall clean-up work that is.  The lawn mowing started last weekend, and I could finally finish it this weekend. 

This is also the time when I can go back down the sides of the ravine, because the soil is stable again, and the ticks and chiggers are gone with temperatures dripping into the 30's.  So yesterday I spent a lot of time working on things that will never be noticed.  I pulled out what seemed to be a mile of honeysuckle out of tress and bushes.  It is always a slow process, because I try to follow every stem down to the ground, and dig out as much root as possible.  But I did find several very big and old roots that are now out of the soil and roasting in the sun on top of the compost heap.

As the trees are dropping their leaves, the view of the Chesapeake is opening back up.  The blue of the water seems brighter against the yellow of the remaining leaves.

Now it is time to enjoy the sun warming up the porch and take a nap before go back into the city.

August Glory

 I know it has been a few months since I have updated this blog.  Simply said, my focus as been elsewhere.

This has been a summer with abundant rain, so much that our neighbor had a landslide on the opposite side of the ravine.  The soil was saturated with water. 

Because of all the rain, everything has grown tall and wide, with many leaves spreading out across the path of the labyrinth.  There also has been a bumper crop of weeds and crabgrass needing to be regularly pulled out.

Yet, even with the rain, two types of Siberian Iris, which love water, have died back substantially.  It is possible that some moles have moved underneath them and taken to nibbling the roots.

Critters have taken their toll.  The deer ate off all of the buds from the Lily of the Nile.  The remaining Black-eyed Susan plants have been eaten to the ground, I suspect by a ground hog.  It is frustrating, and I am tired of the continual onslaught.  Plants that seem to be safe from one pest get eaten by another.  I have had success with several new Veronica plants, which have been left alone by all of the animals, and bloomed through the summer.

What has been most interesting is the dwarf smoke bush.  For several years it has stayed 3 feet high, but with all of the water this summer it put up multiple new stems that are blooming now.  It is quite dramatic, and fun.  Even though they will need to be pruned back in November, each will sucker out several new branches in the spring. 

I wish I had known in the spring that it would be such a wet year.  I would have planted many things in places on the side of the ravine that are impossible to water.  I might have been able to establish plants to help hold the soil and avoid earth slides.  It is one of the ongoing concerns about living on a site with such wonderful views over the Chesapeake Bay.

Raindrops Keep Falling

On Saturday I went to the Plant Sale at the National Arboretum, an event I have attended for over two decades.  The peony above is just one of hundreds of plants I have bought there.  Unfortunately, many of those plants are now compost, returned to the soil, eaten by animals, frozen in cold winters, or not watered enough in the months after their arrival.  But, like any gardener filled with hope, I bought 23 new plants spending over $300 dollars.

It began raining, again, after I drove home.  At least it was a light, soft rain, not like the recent storms that have flooded the basement.  Early yesterday morning, with the sun filtering through thin clouds, there were little drops of water on much of the garden, collecting and shining the soft light back out from sparkling crystals resting on the leaves.  Even though I should have been getting ready to go to church, I grabbed my camera, and spent 20 minutes following the sparkle.  The rain on the new foliage was too appealing, and I would just have to be a bit late for choir rehearsal!

Looking at these pictures, I see how the peony, pheasant berry and smoke bush all have a rich red color on their new leaves, providing a dramatic contrast to the light yellow green color.  Each plant retains a slight amount of red in their leaves throughout the summer, but here at the beginning, it is prominent. 

All of those Arboretum plants are in their pots on the front porch, waiting to be planted in their new home.  I hope these will all live and settle into their new site which I have chosen for them.  Spring brings hope.

Hellebores Finally Opening

Looking back over the last four years I have been keeping this blog, it is clear that this has been the longest winter.  Last year I had Hellebore pictures a week earlier, and in 2013, they were almost three weeks earlier!  So now they are up and blooming after so much cold and rain. 

These first two pictures are of the same clump, my earliest bloomer, from different sides.  It grows in a place near the entrance of the labyrinth garden that disappears behind other plants in the summer, so it enjoys the opportunity to shine forth with the yellow and pink shades.

This purple beauty grows in the North garden.  I had planned on trading its location with day lilies last fall, but with all that I was doing and bad weather on the weekends, nothing got moved.  I hesitate to move them all in the spring, but that might be what is necessary.  This coming autumn I will again be busy all week, and unable to do many projects.

Finally, there is this more demure variety.  The flowers will be more dramatic as the flowers open up, but even so it brings color into a still dreary landscape. 

The crocus in the grass have finished their bloom, and there are a few crocus blooming in the labyrinth.  They are survivors of the rabbit rampage last spring.  I hope a few more show up in the weeks to come.

Freezing Rain

So there has been freezing rain all day today, and all the plants are getting a think coat of ice.  The most vulnerable are the pencil hollies, with very long, thin, vertical branches that are now bending over sideways from the weight of the ice.  I hope nothing breaks, and that the bent limbs will return to shape once the air warms up tomorrow morning.  But there is nothing I can do without potentially causing greater danger to them.

Here you can see the paperbark maple, with its flaking layers of red bark underneath the ice.

Then there is the Christmas Folly, built by my beloved out of left over magnolia and spruce branches.  It looked like an exotic Christmas tree! I was ready to take it apart because it is getting quite brown, but this is a fitting way to have a dramatic last fling.

Usually by the end of February I have cut the tall grasses, cleaned up the flower beds and gotten them ready for a new layer of mulch.  That is going to have to wait. I wonder how long. I am tired of waiting for better weather so I can go outside.

10 Inches of Snow

While New England is getting another layer of snow to deal with, we got our first significant snow for the season.  It is a very dry, fine, fluffy snow, and has been pretty easy to shovel or even sweep off the sidewalk and road.

I was out early to shovel off the snow from around the cars, the parking pad, and on the road. 

There is always something magical about snow in the garden, changing the way I see it.  All the shrubs and still uncut tall grasses stand out in dramatic contrast to the snow.  Low plants, even the early growing daffodil leaves, are covered up making a smooth, sculptural surface.  Shadows become visible and provide a slowly moving layer of detail on the white surface. 

This snow, since it came down so fine and light, doesn't endanger the health of anything.  There is no need to brush it off to prevent it from breaking off limbs and disfiguring the bushes.  It sifts down, into the inside, like confectioners sugar dusted over the leaves. 

That is why I was surprised to see the snow gathered on the plumes of the pampas grass.  The heads of the stems had enough small pieces that the snow was collected.  Neat.

The Feast of the Holly Berries

Bird Parking Lot

I declare a new liturgical holiday on February 2nd.  It is a much more important day than that over-blown and now commercialized groundhog day.   It will be the Feast of the Holly Berries.

Each year in February the ever larger holly tree that grows behind the house feeds hundreds of birds with its berries now softened by the freezing temperatures.  In the photo you can see the edge of the holly tree on the left.  In the distance is the broken, bare branches of the wild cherry tree with two clusters of birds.  On the top are the Cedar Waxwings.  On the lower left side are the Robins.  Further down the hill is a Tulip Tree with another flock.

Other birds are visiting, including Bluejays and the first Bluebird of this season!  Keeping it lively, a squirrel is scampering around trying to get to berries that are close enough to the larger branches that can carry its weight. 

I am glad I can be here to watch them all eat to their heart's delight!  Anytime a visitor asks why we don't cut down the tree to improve our view of the Bay, I tell them how important it is to feeding wild birds for a week or two every year.  I can now claim it a Holy Holly that is central to the Feast of the Holly Berries!

I keep looking for any sign of new growth and new life in the garden.  The last few weeks have been cold, with lots of rain.  Everything is so soaked, I do not dare go out to work.  If I were to walk through the cultivated areas, it would pack down the soil, collapsing all the pockets of air essential to good soil structure.  If I were to try to work in the wild areas, my feet would be constantly sliding since the wet soil cannot bear my weight.  

Even the Hellebores have kept their buds tightly shut, just barely protruding above the soil.  They wait for slightly warmer, sunnier days, biding their time.  And so do I.