Dear friend and gardener. It is a warm afternoon but with a slightly cool breeze drifting through now and again; sitting outside is tolerable. During the warmer months, I try to make it a point to enjoy my lunch outside as often as possible. I just glanced westward, and heavy gray clouds are heading this way. Maybe we will be blessed with rain despite the forecast indicating otherwise. Once can hope! I have spoken about this before but living in an arid climate, every drop of rain is so precious.
In my last post I mentioned that I have had some great successes this year. So begins the story of Sweet Cicely and The Maple Tree.
This story began in May of 2013. I created a post describing my delight in planting some sweet cicely seeds. That was also the day I discovered I have high blood pressure. I would subsequently learn I have diabetes as well. That aside, it turns out May is not the time of year to plant sweet cicely. Cicely seeds need cold treatment to germinate so the ideal time to sow is in the autumn. Not knowning this, I thought something was wrong with my seeds. Months passed without germination.
I belong to an online community called The National Gardening Association. I cannot recall all the details but somehow, I reached out to other members of the site asking for advice on growing cicely. A very kind soul from Belgium reached out and explained I should sow my seeds in autumn. Thinking nothing would come of the seeds I originally planted, she was kind enough to send seeds from her garden. What a blessing! I planted this new set of seeds in December 2013 or January 2014. Because I planted at more or less the appropriate time, I hoped they would germinate after winter released its grip.
Winter blew in then melted away. Then, it happened! I believe it was April when I noticed small fern like foliage emerging. Success! Sadly, the plants did not put on much growth and they did not flower at all. All throughout the season, the plants declined and eventually faded away to nothing as the gardening season ended.
Over the next couple years, I contemplated, and attempted to correct whatever I was doing wrong. Is it too warm to grow this herb in Colorado? Possibly, but cicely should still perform well during the early part of the season. Maybe the bed I chose to grow this plant was too crowded? I had raspberry plants in this bed and if you have ever grown raspberries, you know they spread very rapidly. My raspberries never produced fruit, so I dug them all out. I thought maybe this would help. It didn’t.
I even tried digging up the clump and moving it to a berm in full sun and that failed miserably. The plant languished in its new location and eventually perished. I was certain my desire to grow this fine herb had finally been thwarted.
April came around once again and thankfully the delicate fern like foliage emerged again ever so faithfully. I am sure I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I didn’t kill it by trying to move it. Whatever root system that remained was enough to produce foliage once again. As it turns out, the root system of sweet cicely runs deep so that is most likely why I didn’t kill the entire plant when I tried to move it.
As the months passed, there were a few leaves but nothing remarkable. I kept the area clear, but the plant once again languished.
2017 faded away as did the leaves of the plant. 2018 arrived, a few leaves emerged but then nothing. By this point, I was determined to successfully grow this herb! So, at the end of last season, I formulated a plan and put it into action.
…To be continued!
Thank you so kindly for reading. This story may be comprised of three parts so please stay tuned. The rest of the story shall be told.
Until next time! Happy gardening and thank you for being a part of my community!
As always, here are some recent photos of my garden.
Dear Friends:
Well now, it seems I have once again been remiss in keeping this blog up to date. Take this post for example. It was actually completed back in February. I really need to step it up and update this blog in a more timely fashion. With that said, thank you for reading and thank you for your patience!
Originally written February 7th 2018
It always happens around this time every year – right around the time of my birthday. The winds are shifting, the days are staying awake longer and the sun is warming the earth. As in all previous years, I see signs of life. Already, daffodils are beginning to poke through, the flax is greening up, irises are poking through and insects are darting about. Yet, it is still only February and just the beginning of February at that.
Spring officially returns March 21st but here, in my little Rocky Mountain garden we will be flirting with winter well into the third week of May – typically. I mean, this could be an off year but I won’t be planting anything that doesn’t like the cold until after Mother’s Day. Just like The Who once lamented … I won’t be fooled again.
On this glorious day of days, I am afforded the opportunity to just sit outside. I wish you – you being any kind soul who happens upon these words and reads them – could be here sitting with me now, outside under my pergola, on my dusty, dirty chair and enjoying this quiet… this solitude.. this moment with me. Perhaps I would make us some iced tea. That does sound good and I was halfway tempted to stop writing this post and go inside and make some but this white tea I have is so strong, I find the effects of the caffeine to be too long lasting. So, perhaps, if you were here, I would make an iced tea but some sort of herbal blend. Hibiscus perhaps.
Oh, the GLORY! The sun is warming my aching bones and I can feel the healing transformation. There is a breeze and it is cool but not cold. It is blowing my wind chime about. Don’t you just love the sound of wind chimes? I would love to have them all over my garden. This one above me is a soprano chime so I quite fancy a bass or alto chime to accompany it.
As each day lengthens and warms, already I am feeling it. If you are here, reading this post, you must be a gardener of some sort or at least someone mildly interested in making something of a bit of earth, or container or something along those lines. I say this because if you have any appreciation for the natural world and how it invigorates the gardener, you know what the ‘it’ is.
“It” is abstract in form and changes with each passing day. “It” is a desire, a passion, a longing and a purest form of love. “It” is what is inside me, you and well, everyone really. “It” is what makes me feel alive. “It” is the perfection of a connection that is discovered – and not by accident. In my life, there are only a few core desires that equate to need. Beyond the tangible, the “it” for me is to sink my hands inside the warming earth, letting it slip through my fingers – but not before inhaling its aroma and mold it into something beautiful. It is this love I breathe into it that produces a garden.
My friends, I thank you so kindly for reading. Please accept my apologies as always for any and all delays in between posts.
Until next time, I wish you all the very best of all things. May this day and all days be blessed. Happy Gardening!
Please enjoy these photos of my Rocky Mountain garden in February:
As the snows finally subside for the season and the chances of evening frost have finally passed, it is easy to get lulled into a sense of complacency when it comes to gardening. All that snow has melted deep into the ground and there is no need to worry about watering. Each day of spring presents a brand-new miracle to behold as the earth comes alive. Nature’s magic is in full swing.
As spring matures into summer, the plight of the gardener becomes apparent. Clouds are rolling in. Will it hail? Or, as it was this year, there were no clouds, only baking hot sun. Then the question becomes will it rain? Our rains came late this year but I will talk more on that later. As the garden transcends spring, the true tribulations of the gardener begin.
Quite simply and even more apparent, the typical garden will not survive without supplemental irrigation if you live in an arid climate – as we do in most of Colorado. I personally feel it is irresponsible to create a landscape that requires constant watering. Water is by far the most precious resource and conservation is of paramount importance. With this in mind, my garden primarily consists of plants native to this area or plants that are easily adaptable to our climate and (at times) extreme weather conditions.
Adaptability was certainly put to the test early this season. All around me plants were wilting, the earth was drying and cracking and I was losing plants. I started the habit — which continues to this day — of bringing a five-gallon Home Depot bucket with me into the shower. I position it in a way that manages to catch a lot of the water that would normally flow down the drain. Despite only turning on the water to get wet so I can lather and then again to rinse off, the bucket ends up nearly full. That is five gallons of water every day. I pour this water out on all the beds and if I am feeling generous, the grass. I gravely dislike grass. Beyond the recycled water, I will sometimes get the hose out in the mornings but I am very careful with the amount of water I apply and where.
With so many things that can go wrong in a garden (weather conditions are just the tip of the iceberg), it is a wonder anyone gardens at all. I know I have personally sunk deep into my outdoor chair many times in exasperation. It is arduous work but you know something? Just as Tom Hanks said in ‘A League of Their Own’, “It is the hard that makes it great.” If it was easy and required no effort, there would possibly be gardens everywhere just like the old times — when folks didn’t mind a bit of hard, soul-enhancing, satisfying work.
Oh! The old times! There once was a time when most everyone HAD to garden. That’s right. There wasn’t always a fancy, lit up, refrigerated aisle full of ‘fresh’ produce. If you wanted vegetables – and of course you did as they are paramount to proper nutrition – you had to grow them. You had to not only grow them but harvest them and then prepare them for storage through the winter. Oh, the humanity! I speak facetiously of course but this is an honest reaction in an age when very few bother to make something out of a bit of earth.
By the grace of God, the heat of June and early July dispersed and for the last several weeks we have been blessed with afternoon thunder showers. This coincides with our monsoon season but the cooler days and the plentiful moisture is so very welcome. The garden is responding in kind. The wilted plants have given way to robust, green stems and the struggling vegetables are flowering and will soon bear fruit. In some cases, they already have. For example, I have already harvested enough pickling cucumbers to create several jars of delicious pickles.
Oh, to garden! Just when you are about to throw your hands in the air and wash your hands of the whole affair, it rewards you with bountiful blessings.
The tomatoes are ripening, a small petunia formed from a seed of plantings past is flowering, ears of corn are forming on their stalks, perennial 4 o’clocks are blooming for the first time ever, ancho peppers are forming (those that were planted from seed), sunflowers are blooming everywhere, hummingbirds are flitting about the impatiens and penstemons, birds are darting from feeder to feeder and worms appear in every shovel of earth disrupted. Yes, gardening is hard work but it can be ever so rewarding!
As always, thank you very kindly for reading. I pray your day has been blessed.
And now, some photos from the garden. Enjoy!
I surreptitiously slip in softly, quietly, gliding along the winds of spring. The last remnants of cold and winter soon become just a fleeting memory.
Spring O! spring! What a vibrant, multi-colored tapestry you have woven! I offer all this precious new life my protection with my warmth and long days.
Heraldry! No other mornings compare to the aubades sung with such fervor by the growing numbers of my winged followers.
My fiery sun glowing strong provides all the radiant heat welcomed by the earth below.
Days o’ days. They are long, lazy and meandering which is the intent. The rising moon graces the sky albeit briefly before my sun chases it away to bask the earth in glorious splendor.
Life is flourishing, life is everywhere, life is inescapable, life is alive with love, passion and energy. Emerge my children and let me cradle you in my warmth. Sleep in peace secure in knowing you are safe.
Days o’ days passing without care, breeding happiness, excitement and laughter all the while. My strength continues to grow as does everything beneath me. My personal flowers, O! Flowers of faith, you are bounding each day only to ready yourselves for your days of endless adulation.
Helianthus annuus they have called you. You are the embodiment of the season. You reach higher and higher, yearning to be closer to me. We were once one, you and me and so we will be again.
SHEER JOY! The virtues of patience have paid off and the day has come! Your blooms have opened and with each passing minute, your face sways, turning and contorting so that we may look into each other’s eyes until I drop out of view.
Beauty is fading. Your days are expiring and as the finches come to feast upon your leaves, your precious blooms begin to wither. I am fading too it seems. The solstice has come and gone.
Preparations of moving on. My freshness of youth is transforming into something more mature as I feel myself losing my reign with each passing hour, day and week.
Soon there will be nothing left of me but a memory.
Your flowers are gone now but you have procured enough nutrients to gather seed. Prolific you shall be when a new season comes around again. A year. Annuus.
The dog days are here and in protest I shower all below with a heat not as yet known this season. Fiery blasts upon the earth as I lament my inevitable passing.
The earth turns are constant. Days o’ days. I am forced to let go. The dog days are over now. The footsteps of the autumn equinox are drawing nearer until the inevitable day when we meet face to face.
Grinning shyly, I bow gracefully knowing I must be off to bless another part of the earth as a new spring in a different land approaches. Perpetual motion. As I bid the northern lands adieu, I embrace the southern lands. Cycles.
The land ever coaxing prompts me to stay as long as I can but autumn is waiting patiently and with her arrival comes the much needed preparation for another type of solstice – winter. One of shortened days and much needed rest. Autumn’s hands are careful and intentional as her winds summon the northern winds. Colder nights, shorter days. She sees winter approaching and knows she has much work to do before her arrival.
I cannot maintain my protection much longer and with each passing evening, I feel myself slipping further. Frosts have already fallen upon the land like a blanket as if to say, shhhhh, it is time for sleep.
Life is fading, drifting wearily and preparing for protection against the cold. Shutting down. Life functions become slower, disciplined and minimized to the bare essentials.
The clocks, ticking in unison all point to my hour of departure and I shall leave grandly with a fiery exit. Your pleas have not gone unnoticed; O! Beautiful creations! Let this be my final gift in honor of autumn. The fiery colors of my palette I shall infuse into all the leaves of all the plants below. Emblazoned now below the autumnal sun are the tones of earth, fire and sun setting the world alight with an elaborate fireworks display. Take solace, breathe in the cooler, stiller air, reflect and prepare for rest.
As my robust, energetic, invigorating, warm days end and new days of frost, cold and stillness begin,
Summer has become autumn
Young has become old
Then has become now
I leave you with your memories.
Images of Autumn. Please click on any of the thumbnails below to start sideshow. Thank you.
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Images of the Garden in Late Summer. Please click on any of the thumbnails below to start sideshow. Thank you.
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Hello friends. Before I get started I wish to thank Flora Jamieson over at Through the Round Window for her kind permission to use the photo for this blog entry. Please take a moment to check out her blog and her wonderful stained glass creations. You are a wonderful artist Flora and I thank you so much for allowing me to use this image for my blog post.
Here in the northern region of the northern hemisphere, there is a definite feel to the air that intimates autumn’s pending arrival. The winds are cooler and the recent heavy rain is something many in our state have never seen. Today for the first time in a few days, the sun meandered beyond the clouds and provided a welcome relief to the soggy ground below. My concrete bird bath converted to a planter looks now more like the actual bird bath it was originally meant to be. After taking this photo, I scooped out as much water as possible. It is funny to me that when you experience something for an extended period of time you long for the opposite. Take the rain for example. I have longed for it to rain properly all summer and then all it once it was here with a mission to make up for lost time. The clouds and damp have been constant so when the sun arrived I could immediately relate to those immortal words from John Lennon and Paul McCartney.Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it’s all rightLittle darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been hereHere comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it’s all rightSun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
The rain aside, our growing season will be ending. Soon, we will have our first frost and not long after, our first snow. I can take a moment or two now to reflect on my successes and lessons learned this season. One major lesson since time immemorial for any gardener is that of creating a good foundation (soil) for which to garden. Why did that plant die or why did that plant struggle? A trowel plunged into the earth for which the plant sat languishing revealed subpar conditions. Whether it was a soil that was too wet, too dry, too many nutrients, not enough, etc., it seems I fell into the trap of not preparing enough before I planted. I thought I did enough. For example, the soil under the pine tree was meant to be good, rich soil only to discover it retained so much water and now it is no secret why I did not have daffodils or why other varieties of plants gave up the ghost.
Another victim of my carelessness was the cone flower patch. They sat in a soil too wet and too rich as well resulting in having to cut them all down to nothing and placing them in average soil with a nice top dressing of compost in hopes they will recover next year. Cone flowers are tough so thee is hope they will come back strong in the spring.
Beyond these lessons, I am pleased with my successes. First, I have Kiss Me Over the Garden Gate. I will write a feature on this in my next entry but despite hail damaging the leaves, etc., I have beautiful long strands of hot pink flowers swaying in the sun.
As I prepare for September’s tasks, I already am becoming sentimental about the inevitable changes that will transform all the greens, pinks, purples and yellows to brown and grey. The lawn will be fertilized with alfalfa meal now and once more before the first frost. Plants will soon be cut back and soon it will be time to place straw around the tender perennials such as a newly purchased cardinal flower and a salvia greggii. Their slumber will soon be here but before that I will take joy in every communion with all my garden has to provide.
The garden creates so many memories and memories are like starlight: they go on forever. I thank you all so much for reading and until next time, happy gardening and blessings to you all!
Articles to look forward to!
Patience Rewarded (Success with impatiens)
My Personal Harvest
Flanders Poppies
Now for some images of what has been blooming since my last post.