Browsed by
Category: flowers

Too Soon!

Too Soon!

Comments 0 Comment

Warm winters are always a treat, and so far we seem to be in for one. But I worry when I spot green shoots pushing through the soil or spy the creamy center of a Lenten rose already taking shape amidst the brown leaves from last fall’s raking. 

Lenten roses are some of the earliest plants in the garden. But January 12th? 

Go back to sleep, I tell the plant, treating it like a still-drowsy baby rising too soon from a nap. Slumber on for a few more weeks, until we know the world is safe for you. 

The Annuals

The Annuals

Comments 0 Comment

They lasted almost till Thanksgiving, but last night finished them off. I’m talking about the summer flowers, the impatiens I transplanted after a deer took them down and the begonias that took their place. 

I snapped a photo of these plants the other night, after I realized how cold it would be. I may have snapped a shot of them earlier, but I was taking no chances. I wanted to preserve their bounty in some way. 

Surely the begonias by the front door were princes of plants, their lift and height, their regal presence. And another begonia on the deck, the one pictured above, already wilting a bit, was resplendent in its youth, a gift from a green-thumbed friend, which  apparently imbibed some of her plant goodness at the start.

Annuals are the victims of seasonal change. They lack the immortality of the perennial. For that reason, they draw our attention to the fleetingness of life. And for that reason, among others, I honor them. 

Ignoring the Roses

Ignoring the Roses

Comments 0 Comment

It’s nothing personal, but sometimes I ignore the second bloom. Roses seem out of place this time of year — even a tease. 

Their petals are so smooth and soft, not fluted and dry like the chrysanthemum.They belong to spring, to longer days and shorter nights.

But here they are, a final benediction, a farewell to summer. So I try to take them philosophically, to see in their freshness a promise of spring.

Extraordinary

Extraordinary

Comments 0 Comment

In the continual quest to match music to landscape, today’s choice might seem a bit odd. Who tramps through the suburbs listening to Brahms’ German Requiem?

Someone who loves the piece and believes it ennobles whatever they see while listening to it, I suppose.

And so the stilt grass, that long-legged invasive, looked more like slender bamboo fronds waving. And the Joe Pye weed was more elegant, more proudly purple, than its usual shaggy self. 

The shaded trails embraced me, the meadow views broadened my vision, and the pond gleamed golden in the morning light. 

It was an ordinary walk made extraordinary by the music in my ears. 

Plant Food

Plant Food

Comments 0 Comment

The first hummingbirds of the season arrived in late April, right on cue.  They cased the joint, supped on the nectar we’d left hanging from the deck, then vanished. We hoped these were scouts who had flown south to share the news with others. 

Since those early sightings, though, hummingbirds have been scarce this summer. Only the ants seem to be enjoying the feeders.  

But in the last few days, I’ve been spying the little critters. They’ve been feeding not at the feeders but on the zinnias. Turns out those bright happy flowers aren’t just pretty to look at. They’re nutritious, too. 

The Deer Did It

The Deer Did It

Comments 0 Comment

Sometimes the deer do us a favor, although not often and not directly. Because the rapacious critters ate my impatiens while I was away, I wanted to put something in the large flower pots that flank the front door. Begonias have a reputation as deer-resistant, so I found a good deal on four plants.

The favor part of this is that the errand landed me in a part of town I don’t usually visit. And that meant a walk on a sunny and unfamiliar path. I cruised along a road for part of the route, then circled a pond that was luminous with bird and insect life.

Dragonflies buzzed, frogs croaked, birds chirped as they landed on lily pads. A gazebo let me view the scene from a shady perch. Afterwards I took a series of tree trunk steppingstones through the wetland bordering the pond, then strolled through a cool glade. 

It was lovely midsummer moment, brought to me (sort of) by the deer. 

Happy Flower

Happy Flower

Comments 0 Comment

Zinnias have long been on my list of must-grow flowers, but previous attempts to coax them from seed have come to naught. 

But this year, thanks to careful planting (not by me!) and well-timed rain, we are enjoying these bright, cheerful blossoms.

I’m not sure what they say in the official language of flowers, but to me, zinnias are the frank and friendly kid sister. They lack the creamy beauty of the rose, the showy splendor of the iris and the delicacy of the forget-me-nots. 

But they more than make up for those in their color, durability and their winning personality. Zinnias are the happy flower.

Fleeting

Fleeting

Comments 0 Comment

I’d forgotten there were lilies of the valley in the side yard, so running into them last week was a surprise and a delight. There were those delicate, bell-like flowers; there the white against the green.

I marveled, I stooped down and snapped a few photos, then I promptly moved on to something else: weeds to pull, chores to do.

Day before yesterday, I thought I would go and look at the flowers again. Surely they would still be blooming. But no, they were not. 

The day I’d glimpsed them was one of their few on earth. How fleeting was their time here! How glad I am to have caught them when I did. 

The Rhododendrons

The Rhododendrons

Comments 0 Comment

Every year is some plant’s year to shine. Last year the redbuds stole the show. Or at least the ones I saw were resplendent in their budding show of strength, their pinks and purples peeking out from amidst sprays of dogwood white.

This year, it’s the rhododendrons’ turn to shine. Whether it’s just that I’m noticing them more or that certain meteorological conditions are favoring them I’ll never understand, inexpert gardener that I am. 

All I know is that our own specimen aside (and it has its hands full thriving in the midst of a bamboo patch), other area plants are standing up to rain and wind and alternate blasts of warmth and cold. They are sending us big-fisted flowers that remind us, as do their compatriots, of how much we need spring. 

(I cheated a bit with the photo: it’s from last year’s May trip to Seattle. I know of no Virginia plants that look like this.)

Out There

Out There

Comments 0 Comment

I spent almost every minute Sunday outside: reading on the deck, bouncing on the trampoline, weeding in the yard, swinging on the hammock. 

It seemed the best way to honor the day, to be in it as much as possible. Because in this place, in this clime, spring is the season. 

Now I’m back at my desk, finishing up work for class tonight, trying to channel any intellectual energy I have to the difficult task at hand. Deconstructionism: there’s a reason why the prof saved it for last. 

But my heart is out there with the wood poppies and the lilacs, with the azaleas and the begonias, resplendent and dear.