It’s a Jungle in Here!

Saturday evening prior to freezing temperatures, I made “The Great Plant Haul.”
In an hour or so of clearing spaces, cleaning saucers, and heaving plants, I brought in all the plants that would still be too cold-- even under the covers. Though the freeze was too cold too soon (as was the snow on the upper east coast) I decided it was time to bring them in for wintering-over. For the most part, once they’re in—they’re in for the duration since it takes so much time and effort to haul them back and forth.

This year, I’ve brought in more plants than usual, wanting to “protect my investment”; maybe I won’t have to buy new ones next spring. As it turns out, some of the new to me plants do well as houseplants. For example, one houseplant book says that pentas bloom in December and January; what a treat to have them bloom all spring and summer then indoors in winter too (maybe they actually will)!

The plants are definitely too crowded so I’ll have to continue to discover better configurations to spread out “the jungle.”

Double Blessing

On the rare occasion that I find one of my favorite herbs--Pineapple Sage, I buy it quick; what a treat! The leaves really do smell like pineapple and give a hint of pineapple flavor to fish and chicken. The pointed leaves also add flair to salads.

I also enjoy their magenta stems but their red flowers are what I seek. Though small, these bright red jewels are rare among herbs and stand out. Red flowers aren’t usually my favorites, though you can probably tell that I’m smitten by red hibiscus (the attraction to those is a special memory), but Pineapple Sage flowers make my favorites list. The plant was blooming when I bought it but not since; I missed photographing it then and hoped it would bloom again so I could share it here. I was delighted to discover that it had indeed bloomed again.

Sometimes the herb can last two seasons outdoors, dying back and sprouting again in the spring, if you keep it watered but that can vary with how severe the winter is.

It’s a very cool and cloudy morning in the 50’s with temperatures expected to drop throughout the day as the clouds drop rain. Tonight’s temperatures in the 30’s may be the turning point of bringing in the more fragile plants that can be overwintered. The window areas are beginning to get crowded but once the pear leaves outside drop I can place plants farther away from the windows since there will be more sunlight.

Amazingly, the pear leaves are still green; they usually turn red and yellow but I only see a tinge of red. The autumn foliage in the mountains is reported to be the best in years; hopefully our hills will be dressed in similar finery!

Call & Response

A crow sits atop a pine sentinel. Instead of the usual cawing sound, its whole body jolts forward with each high “ack ack ack.” A call to a missing mate or will any crow do? A response comes from a distance—twice, but the crow continues for a few minutes, “Stay there; don’t move! I’ll be there in a minute!”, then flies in the direction of the response.

I can hear the breeze whooshing through the treetops before it stirs my hanging vines. It’s cool in the garden this morning but when I retrieved my sweater from the east window where I shed it, I found it toasty warm.

The nights are still cool but everything seems hardy to temperatures in the 40’s so I haven’t had to tuck the garden in lately.

Here in the Southern Piedmont, the maples and oaks are turning gorgeous reds and yellows. Sometimes my eyes believe that they’re back in New England, where we lived for two winters! Beautiful.

Just Getting Used to the World

My avocado plant is much happier indoors where it’s evenly warm though an avocado tree that has seen more than a hundred winters outside the Alamo—many with temperatures in the ‘teens, and ice, at last encounter, still branches broadly. But this young avocado is just getting used to the world.

Its temporary perch crowds and gives only moderate sunlight so I’ll be discovering a better spot soon. I’ll have to watch it closely to keep it from drying out (brown- spotted leaves are the price to pay) or I’ll have to transplant it to a plastic or glazed pot. I’d rather not disturb it unless it’s necessary, so I may be able to hold in some moisture by putting it in a jardinière (Wow, my spell-check recognized the word and automatically added the French accent. A jardinière is a decorative glazed pot in which to place a plainly-potted plant).

The painting in the photo is my mixed media painting, The Kingdom of Light based on Colossians 1:13,14.

Cracked Pots

“You have more success with your container gardening than I do,” my friend C. said. Sometimes. At times I have more success than other times but I just keep going—my only option would be to not garden at all. Unthinkable.

One thing that helps me succeed is my almost exclusive use of terra cotta pots outdoors because they have good drainage and can “breathe,” though they must be watered often in the heat of summer. Of course they eventually break down after years in the elements. The other night I picked up this pot of peppermint to put it under the table to protect it from the cold; the problem is, I picked it up by the rim. Oops, the rim stayed in my hand but the pot didn’t; I had some soil to sweep up. Perhaps I can glue it back but if I do the pot will have to be empty and clean—so I’ll wait ‘til next season. I’ve had it for many years so I’m not worried; I definitely got my money’s worth.

Plastic pots break down too—and fade in the sun. While broken pieces of terra cotta pots can be used for garden decoration or drainage in the bottom of another pot, broken down plastic pots can only be thrown out (not a good idea for the landfill!) or in some areas, recycled. However, plastic pots (or glazed pottery ones) can be preferable for indoor gardening since the dry air of homes from the furnace or air conditioning can dry out the plants more quickly than you expect.

The new growth on the peppermint plant has fuchsia stems!

Flawed Beauty

Once in a while, I get to visit a public garden and see wondrous things. For many years I snapped hundreds of photos in these gardens for painting references. If I photographed flowers such as these orchids I found at a university greenhouse, my painting would ignore the blemishes and “paint them out.” However, I captured this image of formerly white cattleya orchids because of their blemishes; though they’ve been damaged either by drops of something falling on them or (more likely) aging, they still had a lovely fragrance. In fact, it was their heady fragrance that first drew me. I was intrigued that such a wonderful scent could be produced by such a flawed beauty and saw a parable.

It’s a great temptation to judge people by their appearances—or lack thereof but there’s a lot more to people than the way they look. Though as an artist, I find the visual the most interesting, I’m glad God didn’t stop there.

It’s been a cool, crisp morning filled with bird symphonies. One bird sang, “Figaro, figaro, figaro!”

Late Sleepers

I hadn’t had to cover the garden for a couple weeks but last night’s cold told me it was time. It’s usually a hassle to take everything down and cover it but this time, experience made it go quickly.

Since the temperature was to be only in the mid-30’s at 7 am, I left them covered until it warmed more, so they got to “sleep in." The sun doesn’t make its way over the roof to the garden until early afternoon.

I’ll have to bring more plants indoors soon—the ones that will last the winter in furnace-dry air. I’ve tried bringing oregano in, but it gets too dry; it has a better survival rate outdoors. I’ll need to plan a space for each plant that meets its needs for light and my need for it to fit in with the décor; I prefer to not have plants bunched up by a window without design.


I always bring the bougainvillea in. I just found some tiny beginnings of blossoms (bracts)! Bougainvillea’s space has been taken up by books during the summer as most any space in our home may well be. Oh well, it’s time to sort through the bookcases anyway. I used to buy books without knowing much about them; now I’m a lot more selective.

Warm & Cozy

It’s a cool blustery day! I didn’t cover the garden against last night’s 43 degrees and most seemed no worse for the wear since it had rained most of the day yesterday. However, since the Angel Face Angelonia tends to droop in the cold (the other variety has no trouble), I made a place for it last night in front of a window. I had to move a couple other plants around but it worked out fine. The Angel Face seems to be happy in its sunny spot that will get brighter as the pear tree outside drops its leaves. I'm happier in the sunlight too.

I don’t think the new neighbors will be gardeners, but you never know.

Mini Water Towers

A few years ago, I was given some glass water globes for my garden. They’re advertised as able to water your garden for up to two weeks while you’re away. Everyone who sees my garden asks me if they work. “Kinda sorta.” Somehow, they work better on some plants than others but I’ve never seen one dispense water for two weeks.

It’s really important to make a hole in the soil with a pencil or small diameter dowel first before sticking the tube end in the soil though or the sharp-ended tube will take in a dirt clod that will block the water flow. A skewer will dislodge the dirt but as soon as you turn the tube down to push it into the soil; the dirt blocks the flow again. Experience is not the best teacher.

A few months ago, I bought several more glass globes of various sizes when I needed to be away for a bit. After a week, some still had water and some were empty. I had saturated all the plants before situating the globes and leaving; a few plants were worse for the wear but most did fine.

The globes help a bit with plant watering but the real reason I like them is the beauty of sunlight shining through their colorful blown glass. I have lots of blue ones, a couple green and some with blue, white and orange or magenta—all on one globe. They’re sturdy enough to hold up to the ravages of summer and winter in the Piedmont and will add some color to my otherwise barren winter garden (though I’m dreaming up what seeds I can grow for winter color—stay tuned).

Lots of rain today. I’m told that the new neighbors are moving in today; moving is difficult anytime but heavy rain definitely makes it worse!

A Touch of Autumn

Now that the roar of the lawnmowers has stilled, the cawing crows remind me of Girl Scout camp mornings. Crickets and at least two other bird choruses fill the air. What a relief that the nearby light industry is quiet today!

I love autumn! The sunny days in the low 70’s to low 80’s with a slight breeze ruffling golden leaves are almost too wonderful to bear. Thankful, I want to soak up every bit before winter blows in!

Gardening tends to be visual but I’m exploring my garden now with all five senses. Not only are the hyacinth bean pods a beautiful shiny purple, when I touched one I found not the slick surface I had expected from their shine but a soft, slightly fuzzy texture.

Another New Thing

At the farmer’s market my attention was caught as I overheard a plant vendor telling a couple about a plant with bronze-colored leaves. It would eventually cascade, she said—two good reasons to grow it in my hanging basket. When she added that it would produce magenta blooms, I was sold. “Of course, it has to be really, really hot for it to bloom.” This summer was really, really hot—no blooms. But it did cascade and have bronze leaves. That was good but since my space is at a premium, I’m unlikely to grow these small trailers again; I didn’t catch its name.As I’ve often said, it’s good to try new things but there’s not enough room to keep all of them forever.

Reason to Smile

The return of the sun isn’t the only reason I’m smiling—even laughing today. I’m moving quickly through my gardening and other activities today because I want to spend the bulk of the day reading the Bible and praying about the next step or layer in the revival the Lord has sent me. The fire hasn’t gone out—the embers are still glowing and sparking back into flame. Now that I know deep down in my spirit how marvelous and complete Jesus’ payment of the penalty for my (and your) sins is, I want to get the same level of understanding of how God wants his people to live here on earth. Salvation absolutely affects life on earth but is more about getting to heaven. I need to fully grasp the here and now as a follower of Jesus. Since love is the major command of Jesus and the reason he came, the next step is to really learn about God’s love and have it overflow to others.

Today in my gardening, I replaced ragged-looking cuttings of sweet potato vines with fresh yellow green ones and purple ones, planting the worn ones in a pot where they can cascade over the front landing. In the process of transplanting the cuttings, a purple mum branch (not blooming) and a yellow, green and red coleus branch broke off; I’m not sure why the branches are so brittle. It was however, time to refresh my flower arrangement. I added the broken branches, trimmed the other stems and poured fresh water. Since mums have woody stems, I had to lightly pound the end of the stem with a hammer so it can take in water. I was pleased to find that the Parrot Leaf had rooted, though nothing else had; it now has a new home in a front planter where its roaming tendencies can be admired. I had been looking for something colorful in that spot—I love it when I can fill a “need” with something I already have. (I also have a site on stretching money: http://www.stretchednotbroken.blogspot.com ).

See you later, I have more “blooming again” (reviving) to do! (I’d love to hear from you at leafyjournal@yahoo.com if you’re starting to “bloom again!”)

True Colors

It’s another rainy day though the sun shone for about five minutes—I’m grateful for every ray. We seem to have been in a pattern for a while now of two weeks of rain, a week and a half of sun, a week of rain.

On my walk yesterday, I noticed that more of the local leaves are showing their true colors. The reds, oranges and golds that autumn leaves display are the color they really are. The wonderful greens we see in the spring and summer are chlorophyll, the trees’ food; my botany instructor was adamant—“fertilizer is not plant food, chlorophyll is!” Since it’s produced by the sun, as the days shorten the chlorophyll recedes, displaying the leaves' gorgeous true colors.

The Tropicana Canna’s red and green stripes are especially gorgeous today. Though it hasn’t bloomed its anticipated orange flower, the colorfully striped leaves are a beautiful addition to my garden. If all goes well, it will survive the winter outdoors to grow again in the spring. The key to overwintering such plants outdoors is to keep watering them.

Raining, Cats, Dogs, Bees

Though it’s been raining again, the giant “bee” is back doing some loud and serious cutting. Its handlers are chopping bushes that obscure the view between our homes and their business. Hello goldfish bowl.

Something has agitated some unseen dogs—“Good Sam” cats perhaps (cats that make their home on the grounds and are fed by “Good Samaritans”)?

The rain has thankfully washed the ragweed pollen from the air. Even when it isn’t raining, the garden needs much less water since the sun isn’t as harsh and the days are shorter.

A nearby maple is painting a few of its leaves red.

An Ear Full

A buzz as though from an over-glutted bee swallows the outdoor air this morning. Ear plugs dull the affront only slightly. I’ve always thought the motors in leaf-blowers and Weed-Eaters were beyond the task and more about a feeling of power—are leaves and grass truly that unyielding?

Yet, a peppermint breeze cools the rain-soaked air.

Once the giant “bee” returns to its hive, the garden air will be pleasant. I often prefer to be indoors when clouds and rain dominate but I remember my grandmother sitting on her screened porch with her coffee on every possible morning—rain or shine, just to be outdoors.

Ahh, now a distant hum is all I hear.

To Grow Again

My “revived” avocado has sprouted two new sets of shiny bronzed leaves to replace the spindly top I pruned a month or so ago. Making the cut was a little scary but the plant will be bushier and more vigorous. It won’t reach as great a height but in a small garden that’s a plus.

Yesterday evening the full moon rose over a row of tables crammed with home-cooked foods as my husband and I and dozens of her other friends filled my friend B’s huge backyard. It was good to get out in the country in such beautiful weather. We tree-top dwellers are often limited to parks in order to spend much time with our feet in creation, so it’s especially nice when someone shares their yard. Thanks B!

I had some great art conversations, which sometimes turned to the subject of God’s speaking through his creation—the complexities, variety and sheer beauty of the things he has made. That’s why I’m so drawn to spending time outdoors and in my garden, why I’m refreshed there. God isn’t a part of creation but is revealed through it.

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made…” Romans 1:20

Trial Run

The new miniature hybrid petunias—Million Bells, have been the latest thing at garden centers for the last couple of years. The colors of red, deep magenta and orange are enticing. And can you believe it; they bloom all summer without deadheading! More orange flowers—I finally bought a plant this year. At $3.99 for a small plant it was an investment.

The flowers turn several colors of orange as they develop and they do bloom all summer; they’re still blooming—sparsely. It’s nice to not have to deadhead them in order to keep them blooming though the sepals turn brown so I remove them anyway.

The reason Million Bells don’t have to be deadheaded is that they don’t reproduce from seeds; they’re a hybrid reproduced by cuttings—both aspects contribute to the high price (being a hybrid and reproduction by cutting taking longer). Usually, when a plant has spent flowers it will go to the next step in its development—making seeds. Then when the seeds are mature the plant dies; if it’s an annual or dies back until the next season if a perennial. Deadheading turns back the clock on this process, causing the plant to continue blooming.

Will I buy Million Bells again? Since they bloom, for me—even with fertilizer, only sparsely and the small-sized flowers are best appreciated at eye-level, probably not. But it’s good to try new things. Perhaps next year there will be something else new or rediscovered.

Today is forecast to be another gorgeous day--sunny and in the 70's! It's still too cool to be out very long yet but the sun is warming up.

When Life Breaks Things

When life gives you broken stems—make a flower arrangement! Two of the Angel Face Angelonia stems were hanging at an angle, broken by the weight of the sheet that kept them warm.

I snipped the flowerful branches and put them in a vase with a tall, narrow neck. I added the smallest branch of Persian Shield and the straightest Parrot Leaf I could find. When I take cuttings, I always try to leave at least one set of nodes (growth joints) behind so the remaining stem will branch out (grow again or “revive”).

I needed a third flower to complete the arrangement since design, whether floral or art calls for an uneven number. The deep pink Penta’s color seems to be made for the Parrot Leaf’s beautifully “painted” leaves (a member of the Joseph’s Coat family), so I gave the star clusters the starring role. I stripped the Penta’s leaves before adding it to the arrangement, or they would have hidden the more colorful ones.

Much of art these days is made of things not often thought of as art, broken things, cast aside things. But this isn’t just modern art; in past centuries--even millennia as they are today, many artists’ pigments are made from soil/dirt. Pigments such as burnt sienna and burnt umber are made from baked dirt. We artists use what’s around us--granted, we have to pay a lot for art materials companies to process them, but we make something beautiful out of the ordinary, even the broken. God, the ultimate Artist does the same with people giving us—when we turn to him through Jesus, the most wondrous beauty, a reflection of his glory.

Good Things Come in Small Packages

Last week my friend when my friend L. came to visit she wanted to see the garden since she had enjoyed reading this blog. She wondered if my readers knew just how small my garden is. So in case you are a new reader—welcome, and didn’t see my earlier posts, my outdoor garden is on an apartment balcony that is slightly over eleven feet long and four and a half feet deep. It’s a bit smaller than the last place we lived but it’s amazing how much of God’s plant and “animal” creation can fit into it.

My main reason for blogging about my garden is the pleasure of sharing it with you. In addition to being a gardener, I’m a visual artist, writer and budding photographer. This blog makes a great place to put my various skills together. However, I can’t help but championing container gardens, even “tree house” (2nd story) gardens like mine. A garden doesn’t have to be large to be a great enjoyment. The photo is from a previous autumn. I’m amazed to see how much bigger certain varieties have grown this year—must be the fertilizer.

Living in a small space—especially if it’s rented, is so much against the way most Americans think. Though one third of all housing units are rentals, most think that unless you “own your own home”, you’re pretty much a failure. The thing is, it’s impossible to buy a home—homes are made. The idea of buying a home or being a “homeowner” is simply a realty marketing ploy; we get their ads in the mail all the time promising a “real home” for less than rent. (They don’t mention the taxes, the homeowners’ association assessments, the upkeep and repairs.) No, how you pay for a living space is not what makes it a home but a sense of welcome and refuge, a degree of comfort, good smells and sounds are some of the ingredients in making a home. These are priceless.

To Bloom Again

Yesterday I discovered to my delight that in the Greek language, a word that many English translations of the Bible translate as “revived” means “to grow again” or “to bloom again.” It literally applies to plants but the word “revival” has, throughout the last two or three centuries, been used to describe “a renewed passion for Christ”* that sweeps through churches, communities, even countries.

A revival began in me two and a half weeks ago as the Lord “restored the joy of my salvation.” I am definitely “blooming again!” These revivals often begin with one or two people and are spread through testimony or people telling other people what God has done; so I’m telling everyone I can! There is a feature at the bottom of each post that allows you to share the posts on facebook or twitter so that you can pass it on too.

Today it’s a bit warmer. I’m glad I didn’t have to cover the plants last night. The Victoria Blue Salvia actually seem to have liked the cold, the flowers are a deeper purple. The Angel Face Angelonia has perked up a bit but still has limp leaves. I’m not quite sure yet where to put it, though I’ll likely have to rearrange the plants in the front window to make room.

*Firefall; Malcolm McDow & Alvin L. Reid

Through the Window

This morning, I cleaned the garden window and enjoyed the garden from my indoor rattan chair with a cup of hot herb tea—it’s still too cold to go out. Okay it was in the 50’s and I’ll soon get acclimated to the cooler weather but not just yet.

Our last several nights have been unseasonably cold—in the 30’s, so I’ve taken all the hanging pots down and covered all the plants (except for the really tall ones) with old sheets. I’ve read quite a few organizing and simpler life books that would have me get rid of those old sheets but without them, the plants would have been very cold. After the first night the plants were bowed down by the weight of the sheets; the next nights I first draped the sheets over the balcony rail before spreading them over the “carpet” of plants (there’s no room to walk when they’re huddled). That took some of the load off but required a third sheet. The Angelonia usually does fine even after a frost or two (covered) but the Angel Face variety is looking rather limp so I think I need to go ahead make a place for it indoors. I rarely carry plants back and forth anymore. After a certain point, they come in to stay until spring or they take their chances outdoors.

I was amazed to discover in botany class that it’s not the “frost” or coldness, itself that causes damage to tender plants but dehydration. I don’t remember all the intricacies but the cold dries out the plants and soil so they’ll endure low temperatures far better if they’re well-watered. Though there is a freeze-protection method of spraying water on orange trees to ice them over, most plants don’t have such thick or tough leaves so it’s best to keep your watering to the soil.

It looks empty downstairs without our neighbor or her plants. I’ll miss her. New neighbors are coming soon. I’m praying for quiet, friendly gardeners.

I guess I’d better “bundle up” soon and water those thirsty plants.