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