Time Will Tell

Oregano plants sometimes come back in the spring if they get enough water throughout the winter. Though the cold outdoor weather turns the once bountiful stems into brown sticks overwintering outdoors usually works better than bringing them in since indoor air is too dry.

I always leave some of the dead stems in place to remind me to water and that there are live roots beneath. New growth comes from the roots but I was excited to find lots of tiny seedlings in its pot; wow, I could have a superabundance of oregano—my husband’s favorite cooking herb! But…were they really oregano? I didn’t want to declare anything to you if I wasn’t positive so I searched internet images of oregano seedlings and unfortunately they don’t match very well. They may be the interloping tiny white wildflower I found in another pot—but why such an abundance in the oregano pot and only one other? Time will tell.

The More You Pick

My grandmother’s garden was full of flowers but our childish eagerness to pick flowers was curbed by strict instructions, “Don’t pick the flowers,” except the pansies. Pansies were different since, “the more you pick them, the more you have,”(This is true of many annuals and biennials, sort of like pre-deadheading; it stops the plant’s process of seed production).

So now that my pansies have begun blooming again, I’m taking my grandmother’s advice and making more pansies. I’ve put the cut ones in her green glass vase along with a sprig of peppermint—a frost survivor.



The sun eventually broke through the thick morning fog. Welcome sun.

Color on the Rise

The Bradford Pear outside our window seems eager to open its buds! I wish I had taken my camera on our weekend excursions! The flowering crabs are in their full soft red violet array. Entire streets are now lined with the young trees!

We even saw forsythia blooming! My husband says, “Now I know it’s spring when the forsythia blooms.” My grandmother used to talk about the lovely bushes with their four point yellow star-shaped flowers but I never saw one outside of garden catalog photos until we moved east. They’re now some of my favorites. Maybe I should have bought the cheery bouquet of yellow-flowering branches; they would have surely brightened this chilly gray day.

Are We There Yet?

The daffodils have bloomed for weeks; the flowering crab trees are covered with diaphanous pale red-violet blossoms—on a recent night I saw some surreal-looking ones with light-wrapped trunks. Today’s the second day with temperatures in the mid-70’s. The birds think it’s spring. Who am I to argue with the birds?

However, yesterday’s happy chatter has turned to nervous twitters. The birds know that the weather isn’t right. We’re under a tornado watch all day. I don’t wish it on anyone else but I don’t want it here either. Please pray.

Distinctive

One of things I’m enjoying about this prayer plant is the unusual way it holds its leaves. In the evening they fold up in a prayer-like position, which is where it gets its name (maybe I’ll remember to photograph it then) but during the day this particular plant opens its leaves into a cascade of sorts, almost like a modern dance pose.


A new leaf has opened with red-violet showing through the green with deep red-violet markings--a richness of color that the others lack. I suppose this plant is the unique, creative one.

Venturing Out

I heard it was nice outside so I ventured out. It is! The birds agree. And look what I found—the first Sweet William blossom of the year!

But what is that creature in the foreground of the picture?! Why garden sculpture of course, a.k.a. silly straw. When I saw packs of silly straws at the grocery, I knew they had the right combination of color, translucency, interesting shapes, and sized to fit my small garden—the price was right too! I’ve not heard of this anywhere else. Now you can try it—remember, you saw it here.

Planting Eden

As an artist I often hear of God being portrayed as the ultimate Artist, the One who created everything. Therefore, since he created us in his image (Genesis 1:27) we too are creative—in one way or another. This morning though, as I continued my rereading of the Old Testament (first in a while), I saw that not only did God create all the plants but he planted the Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:8)! Before he put Adam there to “work it and take care of it” (Genesis 2:15), God was The Gardener who arranged particular plants in particular places. I like that a lot. And since we’re all made in his image, we are all, to one degree or another, gardeners—underdeveloped gardeners maybe but gardeners nonetheless.

I also felt affirmed as a visual artist in reading that God made the trees in the garden “pleasing to the eye” (Genesis 2:9)—even the food trees. Making things beautiful matters.

*Oil Painting Glorious Garden

Party Worthy

A fellow art student fascinated me with the story of the Night Blooming Cereus given to her by a friend who inherited it from her mother. The plant was so valuable her friend said that in case of fire, it would be grabbed to go. It had, I was told, a wonderful short-lived flower with a glorious fragrance.

While looking through some of my old photos for something “new” to paint, I was elated to find a picture of my California aunt’s Night Blooming Cereus.

When I exhibited the resulting painting another artist gifted me with a cutting from her special plant. When her Night Blooming Cereus blooms, she throws a party so her friends can enjoy the fragrance with her!

I’ve been growing the cutting in the same little pot for about twelve years; it hasn’t grown very much though it’s happiest in its current space. More sun and more water seem to suit it well. I’ve been hesitant to repot it since I had heard somewhere along the way that they need to be pot bound in order to bloom; I’m always hopeful. However, I think this year is its time to spread out—and maybe get it some fertilizer.

*Oil Painting Night Blooming Cereus

Reaching

The avocado plant has now lost all of its old leaves and the new branch is reaching for the ceiling—at a slight angle, one of the branches, that is. The second branch, tiny as it is, is still green and may just make it; last time the second branch just turned black and fell off. I read the other day that after a year or two, avocadoes begin branching naturally. Though it’s not been the case with my other avocado, which did respond to pruning, maybe this one will decide that the pass-through window frame is the limit and begin branching—or it might curve. We’ll see.

The sun warmed the morning; I soaked in some vitamin D while I could, but now clouds are already gathering for tomorrow’s rain. I hope the sun returns today; I need it.

In the Pink

The Hawaiian Ti plant has a lovely new leaf. Overall, the dark green leaves have a hard, shiny appearance—nothing spectacular though they do reflect light. But oh those pink edges! The sun and even today’s pale “liquid sunshine” shines through the pink and lights it up. What a creative touch God, the Master Painter, added to this plant!

I’m ready for him to brighten up my edges—I’m still recovering from a nasty cold. But recovering is the operative word—I am rounding the corner!