Fall Foliage of a Different Sort

When I first bought my compact croton, the leaves were small, upright red spears. Now in their home in my garden they get full sun half of the day and the new leaves are larger and spreading. They’re also more green than anything else, which can be a sign of a lack of light. However, since they get lots of sun, it may be a sign of immaturity. ☺ Apparently, at least in the croton clan, "the older and wiser" you are, the more colorful!

I’ve long been fond of the multi-colored, spotted gems. This is a painting I made in art college. What a challenge to paint all the colors and spots; I often lost my place! But I persevered in “capturing” the beauty.

I saw the little lizard again the other day--with a beautiful long, intact tail.

Souvenir—To Remember

For the first morning in awhile I raised the blinds on a window without raindrops and a parking area without puddles. The weather is sunny and in the low 70’s—perfect.
The geraniums are blooming again. Though my family has long avoided geraniums because of allergies, I’ve enjoyed having a few in a hanging basket each year.


Since they grew nearly everywhere I looked in Europe, well, I just had to get some—for the memories. (I had however, grown pink ivy-leafed ones in prior years.) Mine though, are a hybrid that makes magenta and orange flowers—on the same flower, one of my favorite color combinations.

Desperate for Sunshine

I looked out the window this morning and saw what looked like a large ball of tan fur in the high bushes. What was I seeing up in the air like that? Was it a paper bag? No, it moved in a living way. I watched, then grabbed the camera and ran out to the garden for a better view, as I saw that it was a cat! First it preened, then settled in to bask in that lately rare feature of the earth—sunshine! I didn’t hear a peep out of the birds… Now, the crickets, frog and train make an interesting symphony punctuated with a few car horn blasts.

Rain once again poured over us last night—off and on all night. The forecasters said the earlier storm would be it. Wrong. We seem to be stuck in a pattern of “all or nothing”. I’d prefer to spread it out more.

But the “rain” of the Holy Spirit I’ll gladly stand in, dance in—in buckets, in torrents, indefinitely. I don’t ever want to go back to the way I felt before this revival came upon me! Today, on this tenth day of revival, the Holy Spirit has made very real to me—inside and out, that Jesus “carried our sorrows” (Isaiah 53:4)so that we don’t have to!!! When painful memories come up as those little darts tend to do, I can say, “Jesus carried that sorrow, he took the pain for me. It is finished!” The deep understanding of this lightens my load so much that I’ve been laughing for joy all morning! It’s like having rain and sunshine at the same time—in the best possible way!

Progress

The hyacinth bean vines have made some neat-looking purple seed pods, hyacinth beans—the very thing they were created to do! I like the way they’ve arranged themselves as a cascading “mobile”.

Still more heavy rain fell this morning but now we have sunshine! We’ve not seen much of that stranger since last Wednesday or Thursday. I was beginning to think we were in the Pacific Northwest!

Now that autumn is officially here, maple and oak leaves around town are beginning to turn reddish.

No more white stuff has turned up on the soil. The avocado plant that I pruned has the smallest beginnings of new branches! This morning a moth delicately sipped from the pink pentas; I’ve never before thought of moths being delicate. The butterflies didn’t accept the invitation so I guess the guests will come from “the highways and byways”.

Too Early for Snow!

White fuzzy stuff has spread over the soil of three of my pots. At first I thought it caused by the excessive moisture from four days of torrential downpours—maybe. I have seen some tiny white flies buzzing around. Could they have “woven” these “blankets”?

Until I have time to search the books or internet for the answer, I’m dealing with it in a direct manner; I’m skimming off the top layer of soil with a plastic spoon, then throwing away both the soil and the spoon to avoid contaminating other plants.

Yesterday, after another series of downpours, my husband and I saw both ends of a rainbow! The big round clouds were golden, while long white ones had blue and golden stripes—perhaps some silver lining as well. It’s good to be reminded by a rainbow that God will never destroy the earth again by water!

More Rain!

Today was forecast to be sunny but it’s raining yet again—a lot. My friend in Phoenix and my friends in Texas say, “Send it here!” So I agreed with them in Jesus’ name to pray that it would rain a gentle, soaking rain in those places.”

“Elijah was a human being, even as we are. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops.” James 5:17,18

Tropical Rain Forest?

The rain keeps coming but the red hibiscus doesn’t mind. My garden is getting a good soaking but the overhang keeps it from getting beaten down.

But I’m thinking that after three inches of rain in an hour (!) and since some areas are flooding, it might be time for the rain to stop and move on to an area that needs it more.

The Garden Watered by God

It must have rained again last night, then again this morning so the garden didn’t need much watering.

Since it didn’t need much tending otherwise, I cut some flowers and brought them in. I’ve not used pentas as cut flowers before; I’ll see how they do. Maybe they’ll even root (though clear glass containers are better for rooting). I’m enjoying their star shapes. I added some Victoria Blue Salvia, some Parrot Leaf, and peppermint to smell good.

I had time to do another kind of planting today. In day 4 of revival, the angels are rejoicing because another person is added to the family of God. And so am I!

Well Enough?

A couple months ago, a neighbor gave me some of her plant multiplications. When I brought them home my goal was to get them in soil or water as quickly as possible. This once-broken lavender bowl seemed to suit the prayer plant well; the plant has even sprouted a baby of its own. It’s been very happy here in its sunny window but today was the day for re-potting. Why mess with a good thing? The leaves overcome the shallow bowl, brushing against the shelf. Plants—and people, do better when given space for deeper roots.



I had recently gotten a good deal on a red-violet pot at the large blue and yellow box store that turned out to be just right for the prayer plant. When I removed the plant from its shallow bowl to repot it, I discovered that the root ball was also shallow. Now, in its new pot, not only can the roots go deep, it can hold its leaves up high and they’re less likely to get damaged.

When pots, such as this one, don’t have holes always put some broken pottery, gravel, etc. at the bottom of the pot (before you put the plant and soil in) for drainage.

After two weeks we finally got some rain last night with more to come today; it had been forecast for every single day this week. And I’m still in revival.

Same Song, Second Verse

Occasionally a hibiscus flower stays open into the next day—a bonus. This is the same one that bloomed yesterday (see yesterday’s picture). Something bloomed in me yesterday afternoon that has continued into today, and I hope it never closes. Though I’ve known all my life about Jesus’ death and resurrection paying the penalty for our sins and study the Bible closely and teach it—until yesterday I didn’t get as much of the impact of it. As I dug through the Greek word meanings, I found that the words themselves say that Jesus’ sacrifice is complete! When we turn away from our sins (repent) God forgives (sends away) our sins and cancels our guilt and punishment! The sin is gone! The debt is paid! No more guilty conscience (Hebrews 10:22) no “paying the consequences”!

The Lord washed his joy over me with an even fuller understanding of that freedom. I’m so excited that I can barely sit still! This is in no way to advocate “cheap grace” because scripture makes it clear that we are to turn away from sin and the devil and turn toward God, obeying everything that Jesus taught. (John 14) This is such good news that I just had to tell you about it!

I’ll likely be writing in more detail on this on my other sites. Meanwhile if you want to know more about the freedom, you can write me at leafyjournal@yahoo.com

The joy I’m feeling gave me the energy to at last get the fertilizing done. The lawn crew was back today to plant grass seed so we’ll soon have all kinds of new growth. The sky is still a white blanket but rain is expected.

Acclimating to Change

I must be getting acclimated to the weather change since I gardened outdoors without a sweater though temperatures were in the 60’s! Two days ago, I wore a jacket and scarf to go out.

Sadly, some neighbors had to leave quickly—all too common these days. They left plants behind; I hope they will be able to retrieve them. I hate seeing plants in distress.

Autumn is unofficially official now since the produce market now has row upon row of mums. Pumpkins too.

A Change in the Air

The hyacinth beans are forming. I managed to keep from deadheading the flowers so that the glossy purple seed pods could form, though they follow the flowers very quickly.

The temperature has dropped considerably—from yesterday’s upper 80’s to today’s low 60’s. Cloudy and blustery with no rain. I had to hunt for my sweater but even then, it was too uncomfortable to stay in the garden. I'd love to stay outdoors all day every day—as long as the weather is nice. I even took an official test one time, which assessed that I liked the outdoors a lot—but only on my own terms. It also said that I must have music so I’m indoors writing this post and listening to music. Still, I’m surrounded by my indoor garden, and garden colors.

Too Soon to Quit

While my friends’ vegetable gardens are “pretty much over” by now, my garden is at its height in September. The plants that have survived the summer heat are gloriously full of colorful flowers or foliage.

Two coleuses came potted together. Once again, the one I planted in the larger pot has flourished the best—though they both have to share the pot with other plants. This one gets morning light while the other gets afternoon sun.

I’ve long enjoyed coleus for their wide range of beautiful patterns and colors, from yellow-green to magenta. Though they root readily in water I’ve not succeeded in overwintering fully-grown plants or cuttings—yet. My friend C. has however, kept her grandmother’s coleus growing for over twenty years!

Today is a slow day for me. I’d planned to fertilize but it will have to wait yet another day. In my highly caffeinated, hyper society I often feel that I’m supposed to accomplish a zillion projects each day at warp speed. I’m reminded though, that Jesus never seemed to be in a rush though he clearly had a limited time in which to accomplish. He took naps, sometimes left the crowds for hours to pray but he always stayed on course, knowing why he was here and what he was to do. He stood firm when people tried to get him off course. So while I may not “leap tall buildings”, I can stay on course and keep on doing what I’m here for.

Tuning Out

My garden can be idyllic with its flowers and birdsong but gardening in the city requires some selective listening. I hear birds serenading with crickets and frogs adding their choruses but that’s not all I hear. Compressors from the nearby light industry chirp, punctuated by occasional air hose blasts. A Dumpster-dumping truck clunks, alarming car horns repeatedly blast, occasional parking lot quarrels rage and radio talk shows suffocate the air. A train rattles down a nearby track—as many as five times a day. Once a week, the lawn crew descends with their mowers and blowers. Below, large air conditioner fans blow their regular cycles.

Cats sometimes howl as though it were night and birds have territorial spats—these I inform that they are to, “Stop that right now. We can’t have that around here,” the birds often obey but cats, well they’re cats…

Thankfully, not all these things happen at once so I can often tune them out; choosing what I listen to. And sometimes, surprisingly often, there’s no sound at all; I’m not altogether sure I like it that quiet.

Mystery Fragrance

This morning as I rearranged a couple of my plants to their better advantage—and mine, a lovely fragrance attracted me. Where was it coming from? Not the scant honeysuckle on the back fence; I know that scent. It was right there in front of me, under my nose—literally; the Angelonia Angel Face exuded a new dimension of beauty. I don’t know why I haven’t noticed it before; were the purple flowers making this perfume before now? Or did I have to get down on my knees for it to reach me?

The hummingbird flitted in mid-morning to sip from the orange Million Bells. Two Red Hibiscus are blooming today as are hyacinth bean vines, Angelonia, the Victoria Blue’s, pentas, and earlier—a few four O’clocks.

Though the temperatures have been in the upper 80’s and low to mid-90’s, the drier air makes being outdoors delightful, especially when there’s a warm gentle breeze. I could have stayed…

Redirection

My trailing yellow green sweet potato vine has trailed so long that it blocks the plants below from the sun. I have all the cuttings I need,so instead of letting the branches grow down, I’m redirecting them along the railing to grow out.

Branching Out

I’m trying to be positive about this. When I was a teen, I grew my first avocado from a pit leftover from dinner; I had probably seen a magazine ad by the California Avocado Council, which heavily marketed the green marvels in those days. I punctured the pit with toothpicks (no easy feat) and balanced it in a jar of water rather like a hippo on a tightrope. I was thrilled when it grew taller and taller; I knew I should prune it so it would branch but I couldn’t bear it.



Somewhere along the way I ordered Richard W. Langer’s The After-Dinner Gardening Book from the garden book club, which gave more incentive to prune. This morning I reread his account of letting his first avocado, Arthur, grow unfettered to the nine foot ceiling of his New York City apartment. Their solution was to take it to live in Pennsylvania with family. But how to get it there? He and his wife put Arthur on a skateboard and hailed several cabs to take the “three of them” to Penn Station, finally convincing a driver to allow them to shoehorn in the avocado tree. Langer wrote, “The ride down was uneventful, except that the [train] conductor looked somewhat askance at me as I stood beneath the shade of my tree in the passageway, observing the passing, avocadoless landscape.”



I had forgotten my current avocado planting; stacking another pot on top of one that seemed unoccupied. In rearranging one day, I remembered the pit. I gently dug below to see whether it had rooted or rotted. It had rooted! In time it sprouted up and made some healthy leaves. But I had to cut it. I’m over my reticence to cut avocado plants. Mostly. But prune it I did. It’s a little sad looking but I know it will be better for it. Now it will branch out.

The other day as I read the Biblical book of Zechariah I came across a man who was to be prophetic of Jesus, ”Here is the man whose name is the Branch, and he will branch out from his place”. (Zechariah 6:12) We Christians talk a lot about Jesus being the vine and we the branches (John 15:5) but tend to forget that branches branch out.

The Beanstalk Has Blossomed

The lovely hyacinth bean vine is presenting her beautiful purple flowers (I use purple in a general sense to cover all versions of the color). I’ll have to sit on my hands to keep from “deadheading” these flowers (cutting off spent flowers to keep a plant blooming). I’ll have to remind myself that beautiful glossy purple bean pods and eventually artistic black and white seeds follow these flowers.

In one of my earliest gardening attempts, my parents let me plant English pea seeds in their front planter box. They came up nicely and bloomed. I had read about deadheading in my garden books—my first book club books were gardening books, so I dutifully deadheaded my pea flowers against my parents’ warnings. I unfortunately didn’t make the distinction between decorative flowers and flowers that “produce fruit”. I never did get any peas on that round. (I think there’s a parable in there somewhere. When I find it, I’ll let you know—or if you find it, you can let me know.)

A ladybug has made her way to my garden. May her tribe increase. The hummingbird darted in this morning for a visit while I was sitting in the garden. He or she briefly investigated the hyacinth vine flowers, flitted over the rest and darted away. The garden likes the cooler weather; yesterday the temperature only reached 73 degrees. As a result, more plants are blossoming, the four o’clocks were still blooming at 9 o’clock am and crickets are singing.

Bougainvillea Beginnings

I’ve had a special fondness for bougainvillea since my teens when my family made several trips to New Orleans. Always a lover of color, the bright magenta flowers trailing from Jackson Square wrought iron balconies caught my attention—permanently. When I met a Katrina evacuee and listened to her stories, I also asked if the bougainvillea had survived. Yes! A symbol of hope.

I was thrilled to find, when invited to merienda at a home in Spain, this huge, gorgeous, mother-of-all-bougainvillea! This picture is only a small portion!

I’ve been growing my own hanging baskets of bougainvillea for a few years and this is how the latest one bloomed last year. I bring it in for the winter and even get a few blooms indoors. But this year, once I set it out in the spring, it’s had nothing but leaves! I’ve watered it, fertilized it and given it plenty of sun but got nothing. I’ve even reminded it that it has everything it needs in order to do what it was created to do. Nothing.


Until today. When I brought it down off its hook to water it, eureka, I found the beginnings of a blossom (technically a bract as with poinsettias)! At last!

His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 2 Peter 1:3

An Automatic Choice

I always look for Victoria Blue Salvia for my garden. Some years I don’t have to buy it since it is a biennial and returns the next season. Its small spiked purple flowers consistently bloom once it gets started. Though it’s called “blue”, there are very few truly blue flowers in nature.

This year, I planted the Victoria Blue’s in several pots—I got stuck once again with buying a whole pack (of 6) that I didn’t need. (The two big home improvement stores sold only 9-packs and large single pots. I don’t want or need that many. I’d rather buy one or two smaller plants that will grow into their places. With the return to downtown/center city living and the increase in multi-family communities, small gardens are the “in thing”—garden centers take note.) Location mattered. The ones in my long Italian terra cotta pots languish while the ones in the larger, deeper pot are flourishing to the point of overcoming their neighbors.


While the salvias’ arching lean is artistic, they were mashing and shading the heliotrope next to them. This heliotrope (the first one I bought) had enough trouble getting started, having severely dehydrated while riding home from the farmer’s market in the heat of the back window. Over the weekend I got a green plastic-coated heavy wire stake with a partial ring to prop up the Victoria Blue. (You can barely see it in the lower left of the picture) Though it now has an unnatural lean away from the sun, it will straighten its course when the sun returns.

Whenever that will be… We’re forecast to have heavy rain all week from Tropical Storm/Depression Lee. The humidity is bathtub high; the plants love humidity and they’ve got it. I’m not as big a fan though the birds don’t seem to mind. I could barely see the brown birds down the electric line loudly chirping their “call and response” but they looked like thrashers. A distant response answered their call.

Calling Card

Even small gardens can hold special discoveries such as this “calling card” from a flying visitor.

I see the hummingbird much more often these days since I’ve learned to look out at the garden as I raise the blinds in the morning. He or she is an earlier bird than I.

Joan and the Beanstalk

Unlike Jack’s beanstalk, my vigorous hyacinth bean vines and scarlet runner vines didn’t come from magic beans. However, the hyacinth bean vine seeds are
a work of art with white stripes around the edges; I’m continually in awe of the beauty God created. They’re also special because they came from my friend R’s garden.

I’m growing these “bean stalks” primarily for their colorful flowers—purple for the hyacinth bean along with their purple decorative (NOT edible as far as I know) seed pods, and red for the scarlet runner. Scarlet runner beans CAN be eaten. The hyacinth bean vine has purple stems with purple veins in the leaves. Both “bean stalks” have flower buds opening soon. I can’t wait. I’ll post pictures when they do!

Incidentally, there are lots of “Jack stories”; it appears Jack had many adventures. A few years ago, I saw a documentary about a man in the North Carolina Mountains who has maintained them throughout the generations—retelling them at storytelling festivals. I found it fascinating as well, that speech scholars had analyzed his speech and found that not only has he kept the “Jack stories” alive, the words of his everyday speech are Chaucerian English!

Another Month Another Grasshopper

While watering my hanging bougainvillea, I spotted yet another grasshopper! I could tell it was a different one because it was slightly smaller. I again put on my gloves and scooped it into a small plastic pot but alas, it turned up again on a Mexican Petunia leaf. I grabbed my camera and actually got a picture—sort of, of the pesky creature then scooped it up again and sent it flying. And sent it flying...and sent it flying. Finally!



My nasturtium had been doing so well in its trailing;“Would it bloom soon?”
Then the other day, I noticed something under my foot. The nasturtium. Did it trail that long? As I looked closer, I saw that it had been severed, undoubtedly by another caterpillar (cutworm?). This time I haven’t seen the culprit.

I can still put the leaves in a salad. I got out the seed pack and promptly planted more. Gardening, like life, is like that; some things are beyond control—or the “control” is worse than the original problem (in this case chemical pesticides). You just have to pick things up and start over—and keep going.