48 hours later

 

They come and go so quickly, these peonies. I love this white one, that I grew from a root piece. Unfortunately I have no idea who she is, though the 'Sarah Bernhardt's are coming along soon. In Pennsylvania I grew peonies by the armload. I haven't had that good fortune in any other place, though they did well enough in Boise.They seem to struggle a bit in the sandier higher pH soils in our current garden.

 

 

 

 

 

So for the first time this year, I decided to put together some flowers to bring indoors. I do this less and less. I like enjoying them outdoors, but it also feels so Civilized to arrange them. Bring them into our world for a bit. Our Honeysuckle is blooming and growing crazy. . . she's the orange specimen. And the Siberian Iris' are especially prolific this year.

They're arranged in John's Grandmother's cut glass vase.

 

Industrial strength rhubarb

 

 

While we're at it, I'll show you a couple of other images. The rhubarb is out of control. They have the biggest stalks and leaves I've ever seen. I want to make a rhubarb platter using one of the leaves as a pattern, but I'm not quite up to that much clay. 

And the potatoes (below, front row) were so pitiful early on, but they're outpacing the tomatoes now. Food Glorious Food. Love that stuff.

 

24 hours later. . .

 

Peony 24 hours later

Once again, I saw this peony from our kitchen window this morning. I decided to follow it every 24 hours until she reaches full. That thought sparked a memory from my childhood. When I was a kid, I would wander around our yard, which was 1/4 acre suburban lot. It was one of those houses that was built in the '50's to accommodate those moving out of the city to the tamer (less colorful) climes of the burbs. Not a lot of land, but boy did I love that backyard. 

Developing raspberries

I loved to wander around, touch the various plants (spirea, forsythia and arborvitae, lined up against the fence line like so many soldiers), and just Look at things. Dandelions were the bane of every homeowner back then, but I found them fascinating. I couldn't figure out how they bore flowers, seedheads, and then a sort of umbrella'd thing that you could pluck all of those seeds out of. How could one plant produce all of those different things? So I started following one plant regularly. I don't remember if it was every day, or every couple of days, but I eventually figured out that first came the flower, then the pluck-able seed head, then that glorious little open fluffy seed structure.

We didn't have the internet then, of course, but we do now. Check this out. Neil Bromhall has made a time lapse video of the whole process. What a world. Be sure to notice the aphids (little green guys) wandering on the stem throughout the video. Dandileon progression

Developing apples

I don't really have a point, except that someone should have figured out early on that I had a serious bent for plants. I'm sure my Mom was just relieved that I kept myself busy out there. 

There was, however, the time when I picked a bunch of the neighbor's roses. . they were growing on the fence between our two properties. My Mom dragged me crying profusely over to Mrs. Bond to apologize for picking her roses. She was most gracious. I was most humiliated. Good times.

Peach Leaf Curl

Other images! There is a lot of fruit developing out there. All looks pretty good, though in the spirit of full disclosure, notice the curled peach leaves in one of these images. 

This is Peach Leaf Curl (inventive name), and I am partly to blame for it. Somehow, putting on the dormant oil spray this spring completely slipped my mind. The fungal spores that cause this disease overwinter in the bark of the tree, and its development is favored by cool wet weather. Lesson learned.

Developing blueberries

Pollination on the apples and peaches is adequate, though I don't think I'll have a lot of fruit thinning to do. Notice the unpollinated flower husk next to the developing peach. We had a lot of bumble bees, but honey bees are scarce in these woods.

Developing peach

 

Bloom

Our kitchen windows extend to the floor. When I looked out this morning. . . an overcast drizzly specter. . .I saw that this peony is just on the brink of blooming. Decorated with rain drops. Nearly broke my heart, it was so beautiful. So I slipped into my trusty wellies, grabbed my equally trusty phone, and ventured forth.

The day promised  extended overcast-ness, with occasional drizzle, and I thought "Wow. Perfect weather for photographing up close".

So after showering, tooth-brushing, and dressing for the weather, I ventured into the world of our gardens, and brought back images of most, but not all, of the things in bloom. What. Wealth.

As an aside, sorry about the weird spacing. Blogger.com is really hard to work with. And what you see is never what you get. Oy.

Chive flowers

Buttercups (wild)

Primrose

Creeping phlox

Winding down: Double file viburnum

Wild-type columbine

 

 

Cultivated columbine

Cranesbill (Geranium)

A good start on the pots

Purple Siberian Iris

Rhododendron (pink, not light red)

Ready for a party: Cornus kousa

Honeysuckle

Unknown wild bramble (fruit will tell)

Forget-me-nots

Lupines

Kale flowers in their 2nd year

Petite Lilac

Weigelia

 

 

 

Moving along toward Summer

Hummingbird click-bait

Not being able to do much has its advantages. I wandered around the garden on this distinctly summer day (80's, hot sun), and photographed What's Next. The Honeysuckle variety on the left is on an arbor by our patio. She brings hummingbirds, but I was surprised to find that a Ruby-throated Hummingbird also spent a good bit of time visiting our Siberian Iris. I was on the other side of the window, so I got a very good look at her/him flitting from one blossom to the next. I didn't grab my phone, so I don't have an image. I did, however, take a picture in my mind.

Siberian iris, blueberries, rhododendrons

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Friend Mary bequeathed a number of perennials to me a couple of years ago, and I wanted to include some images of them for all to enjoy.

I have previously been unfamiliar with Forget-Me-Nots. I know. Crazy that a plantsman/gardener would not know them, but there I was. Ignorant as a newborn. 

Forget-me-not. Do not underestimate me.

 

 

I have since been impressed with not only the beauty of their delicate flowers, but also with their take-no-prisoners attitude. These little beauties think nothing of going toe-to-toe with lawn, ferns, and creeping thyme. And they don't lose. At worst, they hold their ground, but more often than not they take new territory.

Forget-me-nots spreading out

Mary also brought some Yellow Siberian Iris as well as Marsh Marigold (another plant I was unfamiliar with). She warned me that the latter could be invasive, so I put them in less than ideal conditions. They're surviving, but I'm thinking I may have to move them to a more amenable place at some point.

Marsh Marigolds along the side, iris behind the rock

In general, plants are not impatient. They may not thrive, but they generally survive a lot of less-than-ideal conditions. And forests. I am just starting to glean how one manages a forest. But while experienced woodlot owners emphasize that starting sooner will get a woodlot on better footing faster, they also confess that the forest isn't going anywhere. Well, except from fire, global warming, etc. But I won't go there today. The forest will be there tomorrow. Next month. Likely next year. Likely long after I move on.

Cornus kousa Let the show begin

On the other hand, growing a garden is all about timing. When you select the site and prepare the soil. When you start your plants. How soon you remove weeds. . .an easy hoeing early on avoids a dastardly day of weed pulling later. And lets the plants you are growing thrive rather than just hang on. Yes and No. Timing, procrastination. You don't have to garden for long for these things to become obvious.

Cornus kousa, Japanese dogwood

Other sharables:

One amazing Lupine

I'll try to get a better image of the Japanese dogwood later. But you can see that she's donning her party clothes. Now, if only we can have a garden party. . .

The Lupines, below, were planted by the previous owners. Thank you. They are both magnificent and wonky. Perfect.

Dwarf Lilac

Likewise, the Dwarf Lilacs are in full throat now. Their bloom follows their larger cousin, so we get that seductive smell for several weeks.

And that's the picture from the recovery ward. Be well.

 

 

Spring keeps springing. . .

Pink Lady Slipper on Mt. Phillip

My attentive consort took this picture of a new addition to our forest chorus. . .a pink lady slipper. Now that we know what to look for, I'm hoping to see and thank as many of these fellow travelers as possible.

I got a thumbs up on my first post-op review today, so my first task was to bend over and give Jasper the greeting and pets he deserves (we've both been missing that); and then took my phone out to record what's happening in the yard.

I was intent on getting some images of the candles on our hemlocks, but honestly we're a little past candle stage. Still, the new growth is obvious, and I can't think of a more graceful tree than a hemlock.

Hemlock Candles/new growth

There are so many different greens this time of year. I got up feeling sad from lack of sleep and not a lack of pain this morning, but as soon as I "stumbled out of my rack", got coffee and stepped outside it was easy to forget that malaise. Greens upon greens upon greens. All of that energy. All of that power. All of that beauty. All of that hope.

The ostrich ferns are on full throttle display  now. These forest ferns and others like them are one of the many things I love about living in Maine. They are as tough as they are beautiful. And that not-quite-lime green.  Like seeing good dark soil, it makes my mouth water.

Ostrich Ferns

The cultivated columbine, as well as the woodland natives, are also blooming now. These purples were planted by previous house owners. What luck to inherit them.

Purple Columbine

 

 

 

 

 

Purple Columbine almost there

Best ever Bread

 

 

 

 

 

 And to finish up, I'll document two more beautiful things in  our lives. The first is Attentive Consort's fabulous bread. He just keeps getting better and better at making this. What better symbol of the civilization we hope to save?

The last is our newly painted house from the driveway side. Our poly-culture lawn is doing well, the Copper Beech in the front is just getting coppery (it will be green by mid July), the Pink Rhododendrons are halfway through their warm-up to full bloom and the remaining perennials are just tuning up. The house is getting another chance. A rebirth of sorts. I'm hoping that in a month or so I'll see that as a metaphor for me as well. Good growing.

Home

 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch. . .

see me if you can. . .

My alert consort found this when he took out the compost today. Can you see it? I couldn't at first. He was attracted by the trilaterally symmetrical leaves, thinking we had missed a Trillium. But no. Two Jack-in-the-Pulpit flowers are living by our compost and brush pile, just off the edge of the cultivated property. Can you believe it?!? Right in front of our noses. What else might we be missing? Welcome, small beautiful things. Now I'm wondering if Trillium and Jack-in-the-Pulpit are related. . .

There is a lot of other excitement in the yard, of course. Blueberries are in full bloom, as are the Lilys of the Valley, the Weeping Crab apple is just finishing up her reproductive display, as are the real apples (Malus domestica), and the Peach (Prunus persica). Sorry about the Latin names. It's nice to know they're still in my brain.

sorrel and kale from the garden

 

 

 

As I am still limited in movement, I asked J to bring in some kale and sorrel for tonight's salad as well as a bunch of rhubarb for a pie. I can hardly bear to look at that wonderful rhubarb without using some if it. I love how rhubarb looks like some kind of exotic African plant with those huge leaves and their wonky flowers. 

Rhubarb

I guess I should take a picture of the pie. Not my prettiest by any means, and I had to go lay down after I made the crust. What a weenie.

Apples post bloom

It's hard to tell how much fruit set I have on the apples just yet. I'm hopeful. The bumble bees have been major players every day I've been out, though as usual, we see few honey bees.

Fledgling peach

But I'm pretty sure I see a peach on the residue of the peach flower. . .

Lily of the Valley flowers are hard to see, but their smell whops one upside the head as one walks past. 

 

 

Blueberry flowers with developing fruit

 

 

The blueberries deserve documentation. Such delicate flowers. And the bees love them. There is also visible fruit developing in that last image, so we'll have blueberries this year, if we can beat the chipmunks to them.

Two beauties to finish up with. First are the Double File Viburnums, which I oddly want to call "Rank Viburnums". Not a great subsitution. . .makes them sound like they're stinky, which they most definitely are not! In the foreground, the Siberian Iris are threatening to upstage them, but they are conveniently next-in-line-to-bloom, and don't offer any real competition. This makes me so grateful for the planters of this garden. We've added a lot to the house, but the fundamental structure of the gardens and the perennials are all due to the first owners of this place.

Mary's Yellow Iris

To the right is my first Siberian Iris of the Year. This is one that my friend, M, gave me. Pretty sure, since it's Yellow. And earlier than the purples by the Viburnum.

Rhubarb. Nicely delineates the edge of the yard

Ok. I can't resist one last image. Rhubarb. Food for the eyes and the belly.