Outdoor Writing

Today is another Red Hibiscus Day. The weather was so mild, I was able to sit outside for awhile to write. Now, it’s not so mild. Lots of plants are blooming or on the verge of blooming and the birds are singing. It’s good.

One Way or Another

My search through the local garden centers for an organic basil plant was fruitless and we haven’t had time to make the trek to the distant multi-vendor farmers’ market so I bought a packet of organic basil seed. Though I’m getting a late start and the packet instructions say that it will be seventy days until harvest, I’ve decided that it’s better to grow organic (though I confess I gave in on the golden oregano and hope for the best). Perhaps with judicious fertilizing (too much and the flavor disappears), the seedlings will grow quickly. To keep the birds from breakfasting on the seed, I’ve temporarily clustered my mini garden sculptures (aka silly straws) to crowd them out. But then again, they may just use them as handy perches; if so, I’ll pull out my seed packet and plant again.

Prodigal?

This morning as I opened the blinds I saw a young bird (a birdling?) perched on the edge of my birdbath. It looked around furtively then, apparently assured that no one was watching, jumped into the water for a quick bath and flew out again as quickly. Then it caught sight of me watching through the slats and flew toward me, grasping the screen in its feet and clinging there—not very far from my face; I was glad for the window in between! What did it want? Was it trying to get in? The little wren looked frightened. I worried about it. Was it sick or injured? I didn’t know, but I prayed and was reminded that Jesus said that not even a sparrow falls to the ground without his Father knowing it. And you know, other than being hunted by cats or crashing into reflective skyscrapers, I’ve rarely seen a dead bird along my way. The Lord assured me that he takes care of little Carolina Wrens too. The bird was still clinging to the screen when I came back for the camera—a seemingly long time for the odd angle. After a bit, it flew under the eaves and hunched against the wall. That seemed like progress but it still looked like a fugitive. I finally went about my other business, being concerned that if I opened the door to go out to the garden, the bird would change places with me. The next time I looked, it hopped from plant to plant, hopefully eating unwelcome bugs—definitely a good sign! A little later, I heard a chiding sound much like that of a squirrel reprimanding a cat; it was a mother wren. She hopped about with her strained cry, looking all around for her runaway. Don’t ask me mama wren; I have no idea where your baby has gone so don’t fuss at me.

Long Awaited!

My pink daylily has bloomed again at last! It hasn’t bloomed in at least five years; though I had wanted to give up on the grassy-leaved plant I persevered. And now my patience has been rewarded! Isn’t it lovely? I’ll bring just the blossom (no stem) in this evening and put it in water to enjoy indoors since it will only last a day, hence its name—daylily.

Soaking Wet

Last night’s hard rain slanted in on my garden without harming it. The plants are wet—most of them, and the air is drenched. This morning the heavy moisture escaped the soil as a misty fog. The sun’s getting through the clouds a bit now but hasn’t made it very far into my home; it’s dark in here! It’s another Red Hibiscus Day and the garden is flowering.

Popping Up

Nasturtium seeds have often been slow to germinate in my garden but this year they’re popping up right away. I tucked them here and there among my herbs with plans to add the flowers to not only my flower arrangements but to my salads!

My new clematis stopped blooming almost as soon as I brought it home but here it is sporting a new bud. I hope the forecast storms this afternoon don’t trouble it. I’m being brief this week since I’m holding my own personal art camp to try new things and push old ones further. Today is a Red Hibiscus Day.

Their Own Space

The more I garden, the more interesting “new” things I see. I’ve grown “baby lettuce leaves” before but this is the first time they’ve flowered though I had heard of lettuce “bolting” or going to seed. Since seeding isn’t what I want from my lettuce, I cut the white flowers’ long stems and gathered them with a few other cut flowers from my garden in my favorite yellow-green glass vase. When I worked in flower shops I learned that each flower should have its own space-- “light and airy,” we called it. The wayward, curving stems certainly have found their own space!

In Its Place

Ever on the lookout for plants with colorful foliage, I spotted this pretty oyster plant at a local greenhouse. It seems to take little care and its leaves are attractive from either direction—pink and green-striped in front, and red-violet on the back, so I added it to my garden.

Also known as Moses in a Basket or Boatlily, Tradescantia, can be a good houseplant and can make a quick-growing groundcover but you can probably guess what’s coming—it’s invasive. I’ve read reports of its rhizomes and seeds taking over entire beds unbidden. Dogs love to lie in said beds because its smooth leaves feel cool—momentarily. Unfortunately, dogs are highly allergic to it. People can be too. So, as long as I keep mine in a pot by itself (which I was doing anyway by default) and don’t touch the lovely smooth leaves, everything will be colorfully fine. http://davesgarden.com/guides/pf/go/650/

Similar Yet Different

Today both my hibiscuses are blooming! Though the differences don’t show in the picture, the red hibiscus plant is tall and lanky, and the orange one is a small mound of dark green leaves. The red flower measures seven inches across while the orange is only four inches in diameter. And of course they sport different colors and petal structure. The red petals are long and curl back gracefully while the orange petals are shorter and curve only slightly. Yet they’re both hibiscuses. They’re both flowering plants. They’re both green, leafy plants. They’re both created by God to beautify his world. People also come in a variety of sizes, shapes and colors but we’re all people. In fact, every person who has ever lived on the face of the earth can trace their lineage to the first people on earth—Adam and Eve, and more recently than that, to Noah and his three sons and daughters-in-law. We’re all kin. We’re all God’s creation (though not “all God’s children” see Romans 8:14). One person is really tall and another is really short—so what? One person is black, another brown or white—so what? There’s only one race—the human race. Though we’re all one people, God likes variety in his plants and animals and in his people—it’s the spice of life.

Say “Ah”

I’ve added something new to my garden-a dahlia. I once tried unsuccessfully to grow one from a tuber; maybe this time with that part done for me I can grow these beautiful flowers. My childhood ten-cent garden catalogs would proclaim, “Dahlias—flowers as big as dinner plates!” or a picture of a child standing near a dahlia plant was captioned, “Flowers as large as a child’s head!” Wow! Though labeled as large, my dahlias aren’t anywhere near as big, only three and one half inches in diameter. One of the keys to size, it seems, (besides the particular variety) is to clip the side buds before they open, leaving the main one of the set of three. The second one is opening. I can’t nip it in the bud; not yet--not this time. Most people I’ve encountered pronounce this lovely as, “dalya” as in dally (including myself) but one of my flower shop employers made a point, “Well of course it’s pronounced, ‘dah-lia’; just think of Arlene Dahl.” (U.S. Actress of 1940’s and ‘50s)

Oh Deer!

My miniature pomegranate is settling in and blooming well--but only on the less sunny side though its tag says that it needs full sun. The tag also says that it’s “deer resistant”. That’s a good thing I’m sure, but if a deer ever leaps up here to my second floor balcony, though technically it’s probably possible, it will be a strange day and I’ll be leaping somewhere else! Fortunately we don’t even have squirrels near us. The last place we lived was overrun with them; they ate my plants down to the nubs. They seemed to especially like purple flowers—my specialty. Though I tried really hard to think of them as cute, I couldn’t any longer. I prayed to be able to appreciate this creation of God’s. And I prayed some more. At last, I focused on their amazing acrobatic ability and praised God for his wonderful creation. But I was reminded of the time, in the movie Fiddler on the Roof, when the village rabbi was asked if there was a blessing for the Russian Tsar. The rabbi responded, “May the Lord bless and keep the Tsar…far away from us!” Ditto the squirrels. However, I’m the one who had to move.

Patiently Seeking

I finally got my magenta impatiens over the weekend for the shadier part of my garden and planted them this morning. For some reason, this year magenta ones have been harder to find with the nearly day-glo red ones and white ones dominating the garden centers. However, I’m finding that locally-owned garden centers are more likely to have what I’m looking for. Even this exotic plant from tropical Zanzibar! Impatiens don’t need much sun; keep them moist and they’ll bloom profusely when nearly everything else has given up for the summer. When I find the right color of coleus, I’ll add it for a colorful combination that lasts. As it turns out, the name impatiens, apparently does come from impatience because their seed pods will spring open with little prompting. http://landscaping.about.com/od/flowerseed/p/impatiens_plant.htm I like to leave a few spent flowers un-deadheaded so that I can have the fun of opening the little spring-loaded seed pods and watch the tiny seeds fly out to their new home in the soil—sometimes I don’t have to buy any new impatiens the following spring! With my last round of planting came a backache and stiff legs that didn’t loosen for two days so this time I brought out my folding art studio chair rather than my kneeling pad. Hopefully, I’ll survive this round better. I spent quite a bit of time gardening outdoors today. The rainy air felt good. The frogs and birds sang their pleasure and the plants basked in the humidity.

Outdated?

More years ago than I can remember, I decided to plant my old, outdated packet of wildflower seeds in an available pot. Maybe they’d come up—maybe not; I had nothing to lose. Surprise! This ferny-leaved white yarrow sprouted and grew. It’s fern-like leaves often stay green right through the winter; it has bloomed a couple of times every spring and summer for probably five or six years. Just when we thought that the cold weather was over, last night’s temperatures were forecast for the 40’s! It was so chilly this morning I had to bundle up in my afghan when I sat in the garden. Another beautiful day is ahead, Lord willing.

Stress Relief

I finally got around to planting my latest garden additions today. I don’t remember the name of the red-leafed plant but fortunately the locally-owned garden center had a sign that said to plant it in the shade—otherwise, I would have put it on the sunnier side and wondered why it didn’t do well. This garden center has begun posting full-color printed signs with name and care instructions for various plants. Not only are they helpful but they look neat (in both senses of the word☺) And the good old cobalt blue lobelia can do reasonably well in part shade or mostly sunny. I feel as though my garden isn’t complete without it. The intensely deep blue flowers cascade over the edges of pots until it gets really hot and then again in the fall. Deadheading the tiny flowers is tedious but when it gets overwhelming you can give them a full haircut. However, once you cut them back, depending upon how hot it is and how far back you cut them, they may or may not come back until fall. I had to buy a six-pack of lobelias in order to get a couple—I wish that retailers would make 2-packs or even 3-packs. The slightly larger individual plants that sell for almost as much as six of them isn’t all that helpful either since they’re harder to fit into small spaces in container gardens. It was a beautiful, sunny morning to do my planting. While I was at it I added some organic nasturtium seeds to my salad pots and hyacinth bean vine seeds (not edible) to a hanging basket. We’ve had so much stress, and activity lately, it felt so good to be outdoors working in the garden then sitting in it, enjoying the fruit of my labor.

Orange-flowered Bush

Prettiest Petunias?

These white-edge fuchsia petunias that have come back for a second round may be the prettiest and healthiest ones I’ve ever grown! The leaves are larger, their cascade is more graceful and they’re blooming profusely. And I haven’t done a thing except water the stumps all winter.

I discovered that they make good cut flowers as well; who would have thought it? I accidentally broke off a branch and joined it with a bouquet I already had; it has lasted several days and is still in good shape.

Just the Thing

When I was a child I thrilled at ads for garden catalogs in the back of my mother’s magazines . I’d carefully tape my nickel or dime to an index card inscribed with my name and address, seal it in an envelope then with anticipation send it on its way to the wonderfully colorful nursery! Day after day the mailbox called to me until finally the catalog arrived! One of the glorious flowers that always caught my attention as I pored over the exciting pages was the clematis. They didn’t grow in our hot climate so I had never seen one in person and didn’t even know how to pronounce the name—until I moved east and often saw them vining on mailboxes—just like in the catalogs.