Spring Colour

Day 209: My yard is beginning to colour even though the flower beds immediately below my windows are only beginning to bud for the most part. Lilac scents the air, the pink dogwood wears a rosy crown although its lower branches are rather thin, the Sitka mountain-ash promises a bounty of fruit for the cedar waxwings and robins this fall. A few straggly Lily-of-the-valley survived my remake of the front bed, and will soon be overtopped by alliums, now still in the "knobby-wand" stage of development. The peonies have walnut-sized buds with rich blood-red peeking through the initial cracks, and a few columbines have spread their skirts. Still, it feels like we're off to a slow start here. Nights remain chilly even when daytime temps hit the 70s. I have to keep reminding myself that it isn't even mid-May yet.

Repurposing

Day 33: The "fall" has finally arrived, nearly six weeks past the customary point when the dogwood and Japanese maple drop their leaves, and that despite several nights in the low and mid-twenties. The contorted filbert's foliage has barely changed colour, and that silly fool begonia on my front step is hanging onto its leaves in an inexplicable act of defiance. I want to know why this year is different, why the abscission layer hasn't formed, why the leaves haven't dropped when they should have done so in mid-September. "Curiouser and curiouser," said Alice, and I would gladly follow her down any rabbit hole which might lead to an answer. But all this aside, you really didn't want to rake, did you? I'm here to give you reasons to justify your position.

It goes without saying that leaves were not meant to be raked. If they are to be moved at all, the process should come about at the whim of an autumn gale; a redistribution of resource, if you will. Decaying leaves contribute to a healthy soil base. Okay, they mat your grass, but lawns are an affectation, to say nothing of being a pain in the neck to mow. Leaf litter adds nutritional elements to the soil both directly and indirectly as frass excreted by insects which consume decaying vegetation. Fallen leaves also provide protection for small critters such as overwintering butterflies and moths. Other wildlife may insulate their nests and dens with shed foliage. If you simply must maintain a lawn because you're legally bound by a homeowner's association contract or other human ridiculousness, then repurpose the "fall" by using it as mulch. I spread mine over a particularly nasty patch of buttercups I'm trying to kill, and also bed a loose layer around my fig tree to prevent frost damage to its roots. If this is still not to your liking, compost leaves and till the result into your garden in the spring. You'll have happier vegs for the effort. The moral of this story is clear. In the words of Zeno of Citium, "The goal of life is living in agreement with Nature."

The Cultivated Jungle

Day 217: When I moved into my home thirty years ago, the yard was an almost barren canvas. Aside from a 10'-wide wooded belt separating my property from the one adjacent to it, the only "landscaping" (a term I use in a very loose sense) consisted of a hedge of yews, a 150' tall, 13'-around Douglas-fir and a short weeping, flowering somethingoranother tree in a rock circle in the front yard. It was a lovely little tree, but I was never able to identify it. It had leaves like a cherry, flowers like an apple and formed fruits similar to chokecherry, which it definitely was not. It became known as the Whatzit Tree, and for years, it stood as the only relief in an otherwise empty yard. It eventually succumbed to a combination of insects and the Sapsuckers which loved to drill for them, but by then, I had begun planting trees and shrubs or, as I thought of it, habitat. These days, the planting urge is still upon me, but I'm running out of space for things with strong root systems which can't be planted too near the septic tank. My yard is still a long way from being an impenetrable jungle, but the birds love it. "Build it, and they will come," they say. I planted it, and they did.

Adopt A Rock

Day 5: I've adopted a rock...which is to say that I was hiking in an area where taking something home with you was not prohibited (i.e., allowable from an old logging road) and came across a more or less loose 7 x 10" rock covered with my favourite lichen, Pilophorus acicularis, and...well...I mean, how could I resist? Pilophorus is native to the immediate area...no sins committed against the environment by introducing a non-native species. I can give it exactly the conditions it likes best, and I can even be sure that it doesn't get too dry in the summertime. Okay, I had to carry it about half a mile to get it back to the car, a process which inspired me to think about leaving it behind several times, but it was Pilophorus! It just seemed to have "Take me home!" written all over it. I bedded it comfortably at the base of the dogwood where I can admire it daily even if I don't go outside. Much better than a chia pet, I think!

Rainbow In The Garden

Day 8: Time for a confession, here...yes, I arranged this shot, but when I saw the brilliant colours of the dogwood leaf in proximity to the Lithodora, I couldn't resist the opportunity to capture a rainbow.

Most of the leaves are still hanging on our deciduous trees despite some rather windy conditions of late, the exception being the big-leaf maples which are starting to look weary of carrying their gold. Nearly all of the vine maples (a species with much smaller leaves) took a miss on turning red and went straight from an unenthusiastic yellow to a shopworn brown. The dogwood (a "red" cultivar in my yard) is green but dull and without its summer luster, though a few leaves like this one seem to insist that autumn is for celebrating. I'm sure it will convince its cousins before too long!

Bloomin' Beautiful

Day 227: Because I am so proud of my garden this year, here are a few more photos from around the yard! There will be more to come at a later date. The irises are just budding and the delphiniums are only starting to put up flower spikes. I see nodding heads currently the size of hazelnuts on the poppies, and several other perennials are still in the vegetative (non-blooming) state. This promises to be a colorful summer!

I put the hardy fuchsias ("Genii" and "Dollar Princess") in the ground yesterday, but I am not quite brave enough to commit the tomatoes ("Sweet Million" and "Oregon Spring") to Mother Nature's whims. Although the forecast would seem to indicate a trend toward mild temperatures, we've had killing frosts here as late as mid-June. Consequently, the tomatoes will remain in their pots until the first of June. I'll have to risk them then or take a chance on going fruitless due to our short growing season. Tomatoes are a hit-and-miss proposition any year (and the only edible I try to grow, with the exception of some herbs).

The yard suffered one fatality, however. The Whatzit Tree was ailing, so I had my neighbor take it down. I still have to dig out the roots (a project which may wait until next year). The front yard wants a fast-growing shade tree, and I am entertaining three options to replace it: black walnut, horse chestnut or a big-leaf maple. Decisions, decisions! But that's what makes gardening fun.

Red Dogwood

Day 223: A little over fifteen years ago, a friend of mine asked if she could plant a Dogwood tree on my property in celebration of the birth of her daughter. I said I'd be glad to host a Dogwood, but admittedly, I was thinking of the standard white variety. So was she, but when they went to the nursery to purchase it, there were no white ones. When they arrived on my doorstep with a "red" Dogwood, I winced. I knew "red" was just another word for "pink." I couldn't very well withdraw my offer of space, so we dug an enormous hole beside my driveway and installed the tree.

In past years, it's shown very little color other than a mahogany-red tinge to the early leaves. It would occasionally put forth a few or partial "blossoms" (the "flower" of a Dogwood is not the showy part, but that little tight cluster of dark buds in the center). In short, it was rather disappointing in its lack of pinkness. This year, however, it's simply a mass of color, and in spite of my aversion to pink, I find myself rejoicing in its splendid display.