Grand Finale

Day 249: The flower beds are winding up in a grand finale, with a last, lavish display of colour from the columbines, honeysuckle and delphinium, and will soon yield the stage to the lesser players of volunteer snapdragons, Nigella and the rest of the supporting cast. I have never been one for putting in bedding plants, although every year I give the thought a brief moment of consideration. It seems so wasteful to plant something, only to have it wither in the hot summer spotlights. Let the stage crew have its day in green workman's overalls. Foliage! Without it, the show could not go on.

Garden Colour

Day 230: Today, we are having garden colour because what else can you do in between phone calls to CenturyLink to see what the newest "estimated repair time" will be for restoration of internet service? You wander around in the yard taking pictures of flowers, common flowers like Columbine and Bleeding-hearts. And then you dig out some old wooden fence posts, plant some lettuce, pull some weeds, do some needlework, read a little, play with the kitty, feed birds, and engage in the most purple blasphemous words when aforesaid CenturyLink changes the time frame from 9:30 AM to 2:30 PM, from 2:30 PM to 7 PM, from 7 PM to 9:30 AM tomorrow, and when tomorrow has dawned, from 9:30 AM to 3:30 PM. "Our technicians are already working on it." And on Memorial Day weekend, of course they are! And my grandmother is a bicycle. Hello. I'm back. And as Eeyore once remarked, "At least it isn't raining."

Columbine Constellation

Day 220: I'll admit it. I have a profound fondness for "old-fashioned" plants: lilacs, lily-of-the-valley, Shirley poppies, honeysuckle, delphiniums, blood-red peonies, hollyhocks, bleeding-hearts, columbine. My grandma grew most of them...well, if the truth be known, the gardener of the family was my grandfather, but by the time I was old enough to walk, he was confined to his bed by a stroke. I think of my grandparents' yard as being my grandmother's handiwork if only because she was a major figure in my upbringing. Admittedly, a lot of modern varietals were unknown in those days; I don't recall seeing any double columbines or hollyhocks until I reached adulthood. Consequently, I lean toward the singles for my own garden, although I have to admit that those with ruffled and abundant "petticoats" are attractive in their own way. In fact, the double hybrids have become so popular that it's almost impossible to find singles of some species now.

I've Got The Blues

Day 207: I've got the blues, and I mean that in the best possible way. I had never realized how difficult it was to find plants with vibrantly blue flowers until I started trying to theme my flower beds. I started with delphiniums because they came with the house, planted lobelia to fill in and then promptly regretted it when it turned weedy. What other possibilities were available for a true blue? I tried cornflowers, but could only find them in a mix of colours which leaned strongly toward pink. Blue columbine was a must-have, and I found several variations, pulling out the old pink-rose ones and replacing them with blues and purples. Then I discovered Lithodora, a creeping groundcover which is as blue a blue as you could possibly ever hope to find. Little by little, my garden began singing the blues. My, that's music to my eyes!

Cool Hues

Day 220: It's taken close to 30 years, but I think I have finally achieved a sufficiently cool-hued garden to meet my esthetic requirements. The theme has been somewhat more challenging than I expected to maintain throughout the season, and I'll admit that toward the end of summer, it shades into reds and yellows. That said, at least I've phased out most of the pink (or relocated it). The most dramatic change has been in the columbines. Now blues and purples dominate where once only one pale yellow broke up a wash of pink. The colour change hasn't affected the hummingbirds' interest in the nectar-rich blossoms. In fact, hummers are drawn to blue with the same passion they exhibit for red, and they love the delphiniums which are just now setting buds. There's more blue to come!

Oh, My Darling Columbine

Day 211: Whenever possible, I tag my plants with their varietal names, and of course this helps when I'm plant-shopping for something new. I'm not totally OCD about it, though, and therefore three of these go in the class of "unknowns." Top left is "Spring Magic," a shorter, larger-flowered variation of the typical wild columbine seen in the Rocky Mountains and surrounding areas. Center top is "Black Barlow," a fully double tall variety. Top right and lower left are unidentified, both tall. Middle bottom is "Winky," an enchanting double dwarf with an upright flower form. Odd man out (lower right) is the pink and yellow variety which came with the house. I've eliminated most of them, but decided to keep a few for reasons of nostalgia. I have one other pale double pink which isn't showing signs of buds as yet. The hummingbirds aren't picky. They love them all, but for me, blues are best, and obviously, they're far from boring.

Chance And Choice

Day 232: The columbine pictured here is one of the "pinks" which came with my house. While the yellow skirt makes it almost acceptable, it is still one of the colours I have been systematically relocating to other parts of the yard because when I see it, I think "pink" despite the fact that it is almost dark enough to qualify as red (if not the bright red of our native variety).

On the other hand, this is the calibrachoa ("Million Bells") I selected to go with bright red geraniums in my hanging baskets this year. Okay, it looked redder at the nursery, but even so, the overall palette is almost identical to that of the columbine. I think I owe the columbine an apology; clearly, my logic is not consistent.

Virtual Tour

Day 227: My readers have often heard me speak of my lackadaisical approach to gardening, but over the last several years, I've put more effort into it than previously, putting in new flowerbeds, planting trees and shrubs, working in soil amendments and so on. Well, I am reaping much greater rewards than anticipated for the little effort those labours have actually been, and this year, I am pleased to say that my yard actually looks like a gardener lives here. Please join me for a virtual tour of a few of the plants currently in bloom.

We'll start in the upper left corner with Bachelor's Buttons. They are regarded as something of a pest by many people, but they remind me of my mother's garden when I was very young. I nicked my plant from a roadside ditch where it had strayed from someone's garden. It grows like a weed, so I maintain it to keep it from spreading.

The second image is of the Bridal Wreath Spiraea I added to the front yard last year, again a plant which recalls the gardens of my youth. My grandmother had a huge one. Mine is only about two feet tall, having grown about a foot since I planted it.

Next in line is a commercial cultivar of the blue Columbine familiar to most Montanans. I purchased it as a tiny start a year ago as part of my colour replacement plan to substitute blues for pinks. It is my favourite Columbine.

The daisies in the fourth photo are Delospermum, an annual. They fill the top of a small strawberry jar. They are succulents, and therefore can survive near-drought conditions. I couldn't decide which of three colours I liked best: orange, yellow or red, so I got all three.

The bottom row starts with Siberian Iris, and yes, these can also become quite a pest. Mine came with the house, and I thin them out every few years to keep them from taking over the yard.

Next is the lilac, and thereby hangs a tale. It was not in good shape, so I took the recommendation of a gardening handbook and hacked it off a foot above ground level. The manual assured me that it would come back to full glory in four years. Only this year, approximately fifteen years from its major surgery, is it in full and lavish bloom. Lesson learned. I'll never do that again.

Oriental poppies are a flower I can't hate but can't exactly love, either. They also grow like weeds and spread wildly. It took me ten years to remove the last traces of this one's forebears from the east-side flowerbed, but I couldn't bear to kill it off entirely. It now lives in the "Barren Wasteland" between my house and garage, happy as Larry and providing a blast of colour where it's really needed.

Lily-of-the-valley brings back memories of sitting on my grandmother's back steps when I was three or four years old, surrounded by sweet fragrance. The scent was one Grandma also wore as perfume: Muguet de Bois.

Last is Lithodora, its vibrant stars so shockingly blue that visitors can hardly believe they're real. As far as I'm concerned, it can take over the entire bed beside the driveway, a spot in which it seems to be quite happy.

There are other things in bloom in my yard as well: Bleeding-heart, Kerria, fat blood-red peonies, heather, snapdragons, the Akebia vines...and there are even more things to come, to say nothing of shrubs and ferns and other foliage plants. When I look out over the garden now, somehow I forget all about those days of weeding until my back ached and my fingernails were broken and filthy. It's been worth it all.

Colour Replacement

Day 218: I do not have it in me to kill a plant which has graced my garden with colour even when that colour has been PINK. My readers can't have forgotten my avowed abhorrence of pink, nor the occasional rare exception which almost always has had a connection to the garden. You will not find a scrap of pink in my personal attire, but the occasional plant slips in under the radar (most likely if it attracts hummingbirds or pollinators). That said, the columbines which came with the house were all shades of pink but for one lovely yellow, and the hummers do love their sweet nectar. For years now, I have been scientifically relocating the pinks to other areas of the yard where I'll see them less often, putting blues and purples in their place. The issue is that in some cases, the plants have grown so closely together that I can't tell which root goes with what flower so that despite marking the stems of individuals destined for moving, sometimes bits of pink are left behind. And sometimes, age being what it is, I forget whether the stake with the ribbon indicates a plant I want to move or a plant I want to keep. As the buds are beginning to swell, I see my plans went somewhat awry this spring. I've put the last pink right smack in the center of the bed!

Vancouver Sea Breeze

Day 215: In the Pacific Northwest, you cannot beat Clematis for putting on the best show in town, and "Vancouver Sea Breeze" is the star in my garden. Still a young plant and barely four feet up the trellis, it has at least ten fully open flowers and more buds waiting in the wings. Off to the right, a yellow columbine was resurrected during my spring digging frenzy. I thought it had disappeared. I'll mark it to be moved to a better location next year because at this spot, it's only an extra in the play.

Nostalgia Garden

Day 200: As I walk around my yard, I can't help but notice how strongly my choice of plants has been influenced by what was in my grandmother's garden. When I began selecting perennials for the beds, my "must-have" flowers were almost exclusively those I had seen in cultivation before I had attained the ripe old age of five. I recall clearly sitting on her back porch step, enveloped in a thick perfume of Lily-of-the-Valley, and braiding coronets of the stiff, arching stems of Bridal Wreath Spiraea. No garden of her era was complete without Bachelor's Buttons and Columbine, nor without single Hollyhocks growing against a sunny back wall. Ironically, it was my grandfather who was the gardener; my grandmother simply reaped the rewards, and although the garden dwindled after Grandpa's death, my association with sweet-smelling, beautiful flowers is firmly tied to her.

A Day In The Garden

Day 225: Since moving into this house 25 years ago, I've gardened in varying degrees. At first, it seemed that the battle against the weeds would never end. The flower beds were overgrown with grass when I took possession of the property, and with the help of a friend, we excavated them to a depth of 18", sifting out weeds and rocks, replacing anything which looked like it might turn into a desirable plant. It took three or four years of diligent weeding to bring any semblance of order to the chaos, and during that time, I planted mostly annuals so I could pull up anything green which sprouted the following spring. Later, I began to add a few perennials to the ones we'd unearthed, and now I've abandoned annuals almost entirely. The garden is at last manageable with a minimum of care.

This year, however, good weather came early, and I went a bit berserk when the grubbing-in-the-dirt mood came over me. I laid new beds, planted shrubs and trees, shifted perennials to better locations and added new ones to fill in the gaps. Finally, I can honestly say that I am enjoying gardening rather than looking upon the activity as something more or less demanded of any homeowner. Now I am seeing the real rewards!

From left to right, top to bottom:

This variety of Osteospermum carries the enchanting name "Spoonflower." Can you see why?

An old-fashioned favourite, this yellow Columbine was one we salvaged.

The Wisteria was one of the first things I planted. It has borne more flowers this year than any time past.

Lily-of-the-Valley was a must-have because as a child, I enjoyed it at my grandmother's home.

Sarracenia "Carolina Yellow Jacket" is my newest carnivore. It stands in a dish of water to keep its feet wet.

The pink Columbines came with the house. Not my favourite color, I am phasing them out gradually.

Columbine

Day 231: A very "grandmotherly" flower, Columbine always calls up images of old-fashioned sitting rooms and parlours in my mind, with delicate crocheted antimacassars, leather-bound books and lamplight rounding out the scene. An air of nostalgia surrounds the spurred flowers, as if alongside a vase filled with such fragile grace, a calling card from an afternoon guest might not seem out of place. Columbine is a flower which invites you to tea, demands that your napkin be spread upon your lap and that you adhere to the social niceties of conversation. It brooks no common gossip, no harsh language or vulgarity. No improprieties can be uttered in the presence of Dame Columbine.

Steering Toward Better Blooms

Day 226: Mother Nature had a substantial hand in bringing my flower garden into its best-ever display by providing several days of hard rain right after I'd laid down a thick layer of mixed compost and steer manure. I have to admit I've only made minor soil amendments in past years, and the application of fertilizer was instituted as a last-ditch effort to control the moss which was slowly taking over the flower beds. Almost overnight, I noticed a change in the color of the peonies' foliage, and within a week or ten days, the garden was lushly green. I am being rewarded with larger and more abundant blooms as well as fewer pests, a bonus which can be attributed to the better health of the plants overall. Three bucks! That's all it cost to bring my flowers into vibrant bloom. I should have done this years ago.

Basic Still Life

Day 246: Still life photography is an exercise in artistic principles. Arranging simple props such as draped fabric, flowers, fruit and vegetables, vases and baskets, the artist-photographer strives to create a visual flow from one component to the next, effectively tying together a composition in such a way that although the primary subject dominates, the remaining elements nevertheless capture the viewer's attention. In even the most basic still life, a fold of fabric may mimic the contour of a vase, background drapery may subtly frame a flower or provide visual balance. The key to a good still life is in the interaction of the elements of the composition. These are things the artist must keep in mind.