Say hello to George
one of the most handsome fellows around.
He is quite small
but very generous.
A single bulb produces more than one flower
and 10 bulbs cost less than a burger and fries.
Everyone who gets hungry for spring
needs to plant small bulbs.
They appear early
and when its cold/cool/chilly
they bloom on and on and on.
the bees
and we peeps
are lovin' these
So, you ask, where are the bees?
They were abnormally shy yesterday
and chose to fly off to other fleurs as i approached
rather than be included in this shoot.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR JON
(What's on your birthday dinnner menu?? Please eat some cake for me!)
it begins!!
for the past week
"Tommies" (Brit-speak for Crocus tomasinianus)
have been popping up
all over the garden.
the slender leaves and tiny buds appear
then suddenly
one warm, sunny day
little lavender cups
with bright orange-gold stamens appear
opening and closing as the sun warms the earth
and evening chills it again.
you can actually reckon temperature & windchill factor
with these little beauties:
the little cups refuse to open on days when
the thermometer hovers in the thirties
even in full sunshine
if it's cold or the windchill factor is
low they keep closed up tight.
the other day the thermometer read 42 degree-f with
brilliant sunshine but the stiff wind made it
feel much colder...to humans as well as all the
shivering little crocus
keeping their petals wrapped up tight
waiting for a warmer day.
click to enlarge
i am a bit late posting these
but maybe not too awfully far behind
i do not know for certain because i did
not go visit their garden this year
whoever planted these Japanese iris fooled us
beautifully for they were tucked into the
soil along the edge of a woodland
garden...among wild grasses that give way
to a mown meadow (in nj's skyland botanical
garden)
you find them only when you venture
away from the formal flowerbeds out in the sun
toward the evergreens and birch trees
suddenly you see a bit of color
floating above and gently swaying with
the grasses like a flock of exotic
resting birds
these are only two of the collection
scattered about
heaven
okay, snippets of heaven
every morning we work together in the garden
even just an hour
until we can stand the clamminess no longer
or the sun moves up above the tree line and
chases us indoors
weedingweedingweeding weeding
will we ever fully reclaim this garden?
i have serious doubts some days
but the bending pulling and stretching
feels
GOOD
the heart pumps the lungs expand
and contract and i brush against
lavender, sage and yes
monkey weed that is so pungent in
the wet air it is almost painful in the nose
it is larkspur time here
a whole forest of them are in flower
i love the buds
that look like flooks of miniature birds
perched on fragile looking but remarkably
resiliant stems
j collected a quart of larkspur seed from
our plants last year and has begun spreading them
along interstate 80 road stops and other local
neglected spots here and there
a la miss rumphius
i come inside, pat baby powder
over all the sweaty creases of skin
and sit in front of the fan until i cool off
and decide to make a lemonade slush
to cool off the inside of me.
as i sit down to begin work on the computer
i can still smell the garden on me and
see it under my fingernails
heaven
to be out with the leaves and blossoms
invigorated after thirst-quenching rains
back inside the discomforts are soon
forgotten on a muggy cloudy morning
and
all i can think about this moment is
i forgot to pick a few leaves of
lemon verbena and nutmeg geranium
how nice it will be to stand up in a little
while and go outside to correct that
oversite.
when all else fails
go into the garden
in the middle of days like today
i have to remind myself of this
i cannot stay out very long in the heat of the day
in the middle of a heat wave
but sometimes it gets so stifling
inside my own head
(workmoneyproblemsolving woes)
that i must leave this small, air-conditioned
space. i spend most hours working at a desk
in front of a window that looks out onto
the garden...still when i hit overload
i have to remember to get up
out of the chair and
out of the house
into the garden
but mornings are always a gift
always
especially now
these morning glories came from
seeds dropped by the beloved
'Heavenly Blue' flowers
that appear in every neighborhood
probably in every town in the country
obviously 'Heavenly' has a very colorful
ancestry
added to and edited the next morning
my friend A and i were driving along
the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware
River one june afternoon when we saw
a homemade sign advertising irises
for sale. always on the lookout for
something unusual, we followed the
arrows to a modest home by the side
of the road wherea mother and her
daughters were outside digging irises
for those of us who could not resist.
their home and "garden" sat on the
ancient flood plain of the river. "what
beautiful soil this must be, i thought."
but i did not envy the anxiety they must
experience every spring when the river
rises or summer thunderstorms bring
torential rains.
there were no other flowers on the property,
just a long rectangle of bearded iris
planted in straight rows."five dollars a plant,
any one you like" we were told.
until that day i never thought i could like,
let alone be entranced by a black flower.
but i could not leave this one behind.
true, it is not entirely black. it is the play
of bronze, gold and plum-purple with the
black falls that drew me to it.
"this one please," and i stood next to it
until one of the daughters came and
dug it up for me and plopped it into a
used brown-paper grocery bag.
it took two years for the plant to recover
and flower again for me, but once it got
over the shock of being dug "in flower"
and settled into its new soil it has increased
very nicely and produces dozens of flowers
every year, just about now.
i happen to be reading one of Annie Dillard's books
at the moment, so when i saw a link to her writing
on another blog (Duane Keiser, A Painting a Day), i clicked:
"There are many things to see, unwrapped gifts and free surprises. The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside by a generous hand. But- and this is the point- who gets excited by a mere penny? If you follow one arrow, if you crouch motionless on a bank to watch a tremulous ripple thrill on the water and are rewarded by the sight of a muskrat paddling from its den, will you count that sight a chip of copper only, and go on your rueful way? It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won't stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get."
Annie Dillard
from "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek."
