To the Forest

The local

 I have not been hiking/walking in the woods much since Jasper died. It's been 11 months. Every walk I take, even with John, just makes me miss him so much. He would trot along, go smell this or that, glance back at me occasionally if  he got ahead, wait for me at turns in the trail.

Protection

 

 

 

 

Today was an odd choice to walk out the door to our woods. It's been raining like crazy, and while we had a break in the downpours, it was still cloudy, a little threatening, and very humid. To be fair, it is only in the 60's so the humidity actually feels just fine.

And I, of course, am wearing the protection trifecta: Wellies, an umbrella, and a healthy dose of insect repellent. I just realized that Jasper would have made that a. . . Quadfecta? I always felt so protected walking with him, or any dog that we've had the good fortune to live with.

Beech Leaf Disease

I feel like I've lost my faith. . . the faith in the power of a long walk in the woods. I regained some of that today. These walks (though they have to be long-ish, and unhurried) provoke reflection and inspiration for me.

Beech Leaf Disease is heavy on my heart and mind. It's hard to get a good image of an entire tree that's affected (the background trees tend to drown out the image), but these leaves are infected. The small trees die quickly, the larger ones take a longer time. But all of the beeches in the forest will die unless some resistant genotype is found.

Deepest Darkest

But. Artistic inspiration. I've been using leaf imprints in some of my functional pottery these days. So I found some unaffected beech branches, and will "immortalize" the species in my pottery. Of course, pottery itself is somewhat ephemeral, so it really won't immortalize it.

These Maine woods have such a fecund, almost tropical, feel after this much rain. All of the seasonal streams are full, the ferns are large and wild, and it feels like I could be hiking in Deepest Darkest Peru. Ha. Thank you, Paddington.

Jungle!

While a lot of the small low flowering plants, like Trillium, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, violets, so many, are done for the year, there is some flowering going on. The daisies are coming up in the sunnier areas, and the black berries (so abundant in this ecosystem) are blooming.

 

Future food

The cockle burrs are getting ready. I need to pay attention to their blossoms. I usually only notice them when I have to dig their seed heads out of dog fur. 

 

 

 

 

Daisies blooming

I close with a thought about loop trails vs there-and-back trails. Many hikers disdain the latter type. The thinking is that they're already covered that ground, see what you can see there, and they don't want to back track.

My own experience is that things in the forest, or in the mountains, or anywhere really, look different when one approaches it from another angle. Sounds like a metaphor, and I guess it is. 

Cockleburr

The mess not taken

 

I didn't make a loop today because it includes a rough road along the power corridor that was full of mud puddles where motorized vehicles had made a mess of the trail. (Folks: Don't ride on it when it's muddy. . .) 

 

 

 

 

So I turned around to walk back home, the trail I had come in on. I was really struck by this. I passed along an open field area that led to the forest trail. Where the trail began, two hemlocks seemed to form an entryway to the trail. I hadn't noticed them when I had come from the other direction. They reminded me of the huge statues of kings marking the way into Gondor in the Fellowship of the Ring. If you're a Tolkien reader, that will make sense. If not, sorry.

Welcome to the land of your forefathers. And Mothers.

 

 

Peony rescue

The peonies were really knocked around after a hard rain/wind storm yesterday, in spite of being tied up. For many, it was bring them in or let them hang there looking pitiful. I know how much I hate the latter, so the work began with re-tying, thinning and rescuing. The chives were also beaten down, but they were past their prime anyway. 

 Tomatoes needed a third tying up and some more support as well. It has been nice to not have to worry too much about drought. And while it seems we've had a lot of rain, it really hasn't been too much. Yet. 

The cow-peas I'm growing as part of a cover crop for the south garden make wonderful additions to a vase of flowers. Serendipity.  

Party Clothes

Cornus kousa, 'Greensleeves' makes me sing "Put on your dancing shoes", because she's obviously dressed in her party clothes. After 3 years, she still takes my breath away with this display. Every year. There is nothing I don't love about this plant. She develops these gnarly looking fruit that the birds and rodents just love. They're also lovely to look at while they last, which is rarely long.

I'm thinking I should use this image on a pot. I've used Cornus florida, the native flowering dogwood, on bird feeders and other sculptural pieces, but the kousa has very distinctive bracts. A mug or a bowl, I think. Or maybe something non-functional.

 

 

 

The peonies are just starting to bloom, with this white one first to the finish line. This is another favorite. Her smell is divine. I have had so many people ask me about ants on the buds and flowers, but in all the years and places where I've grown peonies, I have never seen ants crawling on them. In Pennsylvania I had armloads of peonies. I had dug them up from a colleague's yard who hated the fact that he had to mow around them. Yes. This was another horticulture professor, but he had no patience for ornamentals. I figure they're just another kind of food, and I'm always good with food. 

This is the first year that my climbing hydrangea has bloomed. It's been establishing itself, and climbing for more than 3 years, so I'm glad to see it.

On the other side of the same arbor, this honeysuckle has started as well. This is a leftover from the previous owners, and I considered completely taking it out, since they can become weeds. I'm glad I didn't. The humming birds love it, and put on quite a show later in the season. It was a bold choice to put the hydrangea and the honey suckle on opposite sides of the same arbor, and I may come to regret that.

The Siberian Iris' are also starting up. I have mostly purples, but a few yellow ones as well. I also have a bed that I dug up last year because it was getting too crowded. I think every single transplanted crown lived, which was a huge surprise to me. It all looked pretty desolate last fall, and I wasn't sure any of it would "take". I shouldn't be so surprised when science and education works. . .

And the season of cut flowers has begun, along with rhubarb harvest, soon to be followed by kale. The Sweet 100 cherry tomatoes have their first little tomatoes, and a lot of blooms. Let the time of anticipation begin. . .

Glory Days

 

Early summer is when the garden really starts to show off. Many of the perennials I planted our first spring here (now 4 years ago), have established themselves and gotten a little bossy. I plant herbs for their beauty and usefulness, but really, how would I ever use this many chives? French Tarragon, Sage and Thyme all come back with vigor. The thyme, which I planted by seed, is truly an out-of-control invasive now, but I weed it as I can, cut it back, and love the smell those activities leave lingering.

 The lavender, unlike in Idaho, has had to be replanted every year. I'm not sure why I keep it, since the smell makes me think of old ladies (!), but the idea of lavender shortbread is calling me, and I have the space. The rosemary, of course, has had to be replanted yearly every place I've ever lived (except for that brief stay in California), but It is not an herb I want to live without. I was able to overwinter 2 plants inside, so at least I didn't have to buy them this year.

The Cranesbill, or wild geranium, is in full flower now, and will offer some beauty for the remaining summer and fall. Even when not flowering, the leaves are interesting, and green is my favorite color.

The white bleeding heart plant is continuing to bloom for longer than the pink ones, though the smaller dicentras will bloom for at least 

 

 

 

 

 

 And the primroses self-seeded this year, so they've put on a show that is new to me. another month.

 

Tomato plants are coming along nicely, in spite of some scary cold night temperatures. No frost, though. I've gotten used to not expecting tomato fruit until August, but it's still a long wait, and I'm always hopeful that maybe THIS year they'll come sooner. 

The star of the Green show, though, is the rhubarb. I love how it looks so much like some crazy tropical plant. I've made rhubarb cake (thanks, Rika!), rhubarb pie, and John made a new recipe call Rhubarb bars. They are wonderful. They are a shortbread with a fruit layer.

I also made my first leaf embossed vessel (clay) yesterday, using a smaller rhubarb leaf. Some of these leaves are too big to fit into my kiln, so I have to chose wisely. More on that in a later post.

I know this looks like a weedy bed, but it is a cover crop in the south vegetable bed. It's coming along nicely. My plan is to grow it, cut it before it goes to seed, and then work the organic matter back into the soil. This is often called a Green Manure Crop. Our soil here is a sandy loam, and it can always benefit from increasing the organic matter.

 

 

 

Once again, the Forget-me-nots are showing up everywhere. I mostly love them, especially because they were a gift from a friend (Thanks, Mary!). But like buttercups, they are a plant that you underestimate at your peril. Violets are like that too. Tend them, and discourage them where they'll displace other most favored plants.

 

 

Last in this show are our asparagus. We've had a couple of meals from them, but now they're starting their lovely vegetative show that will last until a heavy frost.

A lot of other plants are Beginning. And I have treated my Copper Beech with a trunk spray that the Forest Pathologist recommends to reduce the infestation of the air-born nematode that causes Beech Leaf Disease, which is killing our local Beech trees. There are always new challenges in the growing of things. Climate change may speed up certain pests and their movement, but change is all but certain in this world. In every aspect of it.

A l

Catching up

Weeping Crab Apple

Spring has seemed so slow to come, and then suddenly. Two days in the 80's and everyone is singing. The forest went from light-green haze to the dense leaves of privacy. This weeping crab apple was in bud for at least a week, and yesterday she just gave up and let loose. Other things are happening, or being done, as well. 

Weeping Crab blossoms

All of my transplants are now in the ground, though we are threatened with 39F tomorrow night. I'm a little worried, but I think they'll do fine as long as it doesn't frost. They may be insulted, but better that than dead. A healthy life philosophy when you think about it.

Also of note, I finally finished the base for the vase in the previous post. It's ok. Not my favorite, but I'll keep it as an example of the water-etching process. And it's huge, for when the time of the long stems comes on us. . . iris, day lilies. . .there are more.

Also. A big lesson learned. I've had trouble producing decent transplants indoors since we moved here. I finally had a head slap moment when I realized that germination was fine, they were just too leggy. Light! We need more and longer light! After telling John that I needed to get a plant light, HE did a head slap and remembered that we have one. We moved it with us from Rockridge, where the light was particularly stingy in the house. Voila. Just to be sure, I also bought some tomato transplants from our local Agway. To the left is a comparison of my plants on the left, and Agway's plants on the right. I need to start growing more of my own plants, clearly. They are all in the ground now, and we'll see if the smaller, commercially produced, plants catch up. I hope they do. Last year we had too little basil and too few tomatoes. Not acceptable. I'll forgo the potatoes and pumpkins to have an abundance of tomatoes and basil.

Also of note. My friend (Hi, Mary!) sent me this image of a tree. It looks like it must be two trees, but there is only a single trunk. I had no clue, being a pomologist by education, so of course I tried to find information online. I searched extension websites. I know the top was a spruce, but the bottom? Then. I somehow managed to upload the image into an AI platform (no idea how I did this. . .I usually just punch random buttons and see where it takes me), and Darned if AI didn't have the exact right answer. It was a Dwarf Alberta Spruce that had reverted to the original phenotype. Most of me is appalled that AI figured it out before this human with 15 years of education and that much experience didn't, but the other part of me sees the power in it for the first time. To be fair, I had to know enough about how reversion works to know that it was the correct answer, but still. Amazing.

I'll post some images of the garden now. I've blathered on enough!

 

Brunnera (Siberian Bugloss)

Bleeding hears

Herb garden with lovage and enough basil

Blueberries in bloom

Dawn redwood begins

Apple blossoms beginning

Plum blossoms

Peach in full bloom

Rhubarb. Time for cake!

 

Eggplant, Kale, Zuchinni

New Raspberry planting: 'Anne'

Tomatoes begin

Spring work

I made this vase using underglaze (graduated greens) and water etching over commercial stencils to see if I could make the technique work. It's pretty ok, though the base is small, so I'm making a separate base that I'll somehow attach to this fully vitrified piece. Or maybe I won't. We'll see.

This technique is dicey, and works a lot better on this white stoneware than it did on the Very Sad porcelain box featured in an earlier post. The issue is that the clay needs to be cut and prepped and then dried to just-the-right leather hard stage before the surface can be underglazed and etched. THEN, the pieces need to be scored and slipped to put them together while stiff enough to hold their shape, but moist enough to make a good bond. It's a tedious journey of waiting then working quickly. I once heard someone say that war was long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of terror. It's like that.

 

I do love the look of the water etching. The branches are slightly raised, though the final glaze makes the surface smooth, even though it still has a dimensional look.

 

I also made a mug using the same technique, but of a new brown speckled stoneware. I like the look of it, though the stoneware fires to be darker than I had expected. 

 

This mug is a smaller size that John prefers. I made the handle larger than usual so that all of the fingers fit under it, rather than floating the pinkie on the outside of the handle. I'm not sure why I don't absolutely love it. It's ok, though.

 Finally, I had some clay left over from all of the slab building, so I made labels for some new plants in the garden. I used under glaze to color the dark clay, then stamped or scrafito'd (scratched) through the under glaze. The contrast between the color of the clay and the under glaze wasn't as sharp as I would have liked, but these labels will work. And it's a great way to use up bits and pieces of clay.

The red won't get lost in the garden, but the green is harder than I'd like to read.

It remains cool this morning, after weather that was cold-ish and rainy for the past couple of days. I'm ok with all of that, though I would love to get my transplants into soil. We're supposed to reach 60 today, so garden work is imminent. Spring still merely threatens, though. I'm looking forward to seeing her for real.