Home Through the Garden

The new gate bars unwanted intruders from my garden, but you are with me, so lets go inside with the night insects to see what is blooming.  

As soon as we shut the gate behind us, the soft lavender blooms of irises catch our attention. Right before the irises, against the stone wall we see a patch of cup plants Silphium perfoliatum the plants are already close to three feet tall. They will be seven or eight feet high by the time they bloom with a profusion of yellow sunflowers, each three-four inches across. Notice in the back, near the arbor gate how the white peonies shine.  How could a moth or other night creature resist?

Lets go a bit further. Behind the log blacksmith shop are some delicate white irises backed by an airy blue flower whose name I don not know.  I have been told that it was a bottle brush flower, but it doesn't look like any pictures in the books or online.  The unopened iris buds look like paintbrushes dipped in thick white paint.

 I wonder if any night creatures visit the bird bath sitting amid the hostas beneath a Kousa dogwood? Its center is painted with a large blue and yellow sunflower. There is a pair of thrushes that visit it in the day.  I suspect they have a nest nearby but I haven't found it yet. Tonight the bath is unoccupied.

Before we leave the garden, exiting through the bell gate let's take one last look back toward some Siberian irises, their graceful stems gently swaying with the night breeze. 

All is now dark in the garden.The dim light from my kitchen invite us in for a cup on tea but first let's admire the pink blush of an opening peony. For tonight we say, "Good-bye."

Life Continues

The wild wood poppie poppy population is larger than last year. Their glowing yellow blossoms brighten up dark spots in the damp woods they have chosen to make their home growing amid the white violets and fiddleheads.  The two plants I transplanted last spring have were lovely blooming in my garden a couple weeks ago. 
It always amazes me how much difference a week makes.  I can walk by a place year after year, but if I am not there the right week or even the right day, I might easily miss a wildflower that is so obvious during its blooming time.  I've walked this path for ten years and never noticed the wood poppies until last year.  There are too many of them for them to have come overnight. The same is true for the bloodroot of which I wrote about a few weeks ago. Their bloom lasted only four days in the woods.  Many flowers, without their blooms are unnoticeable.

In other garden news, my garden has shifted from its bulb phase to the bushes.  My lilac is opening into full bloom and filling the yard with its spicy scent. The dogwoods are clinging to a last few blooms while my oak leaf hydrangea is just starting to leaf.  Rhododendrons are starting to glow pink and fuchsia as the last baby's breath spirea bloom falls to the ground.

The garden has a new gate at the stone wall. 

Jeff decided on the design for the gate after being inspired during a Celtic spirituality  class.  A Celtic knot is eternal in that it does not have a beginning or an end, a very fitting symbol for a garden where life is continuous. The seed that starts the plant is the last fruit of a fading plant. The gate is a visual symbol of this circle of life. It, too is made of old metal parts reformed into this new creation.

After many drawings and considering the welding practicality of several knot designs, he chose the the triquertra for the gate's center. The triquertra has been used for centuries in Celtic art, symbolizing three natures in one. 

For Christians, it has become a symbol of the trinity - Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

For the top of the the gate, Jeff chose some old fence finials, welding them to the top of the vertical posts representing how life grows toward its source of light, the sun

I'm very proud of his work and how it fits into the stone wall. I have a can of blue paint to highlight the triquetra at its center.  Blue is the color that represents the Presbyterian denomination, personalizing the design for our particular home.

Night Walk

Night time is most often reserved for cleaning up supper dishes, getting ready for the next day and watching some escapist comedy on television.  Mornings are when I usually take my walks but how could I resist all that snow.  The night glittered with white and all the "stars" were on the ground or in the trees. The snow was up to about five inches, still lightly falling.  
I invite you to join me in a walk through the night, winter garden.

As gardeners, we tend to repeat the message on this slate sign, apologizing for what our gardens lack rather than accepting a compliment for its present beauty.  I think it isn't really so much an apology as it is a response to truly being sorry that a friend didn't get to share what bloomed last week as well as what is currently in bloom.  That is not a problem for us tonight. Blooms will sprout from our minds. If you are are a gardener or have enjoyed visiting them, you, like me might conjur up visions of blossoms.  If not, just enjoy the glittering colors suggested in the snow's reflection.

There is no tinkle as snow mutes wind chimes and decorates the "hangy things."

The earthen pottery chimes perhaps might remember with longing their Caribbean birth.

Father Time and Family huddle against the cold, well dressed in their snowy hats and scarves.

A rare albino forsythia in full bloom, its delicate white blossoms becoming more numerous as the snow clings to its branches.

Come along. Let's not take advantage of this rustic bench tonight. though its plush white cushion might tempt us, we have more to see.  We'll rest later.

A couple herons, impervious to the cold seem to be enticed by hydranga blossoms

that only yesterday appeard faded to ecrue but now shine in white rejuvination.

Time to leave the garden to search the field for tracks then back home where we'll lay our shoes and gloves by the wood stove to wait for morning.