Wedged In Wisteria

Day 43: Over the course of years, I have attempted to identify the crustose lichens growing on the trunk of my wisteria, but have not been able to nail them down. I rather doubt I'd have any better luck putting a name to the wisteria's newest accessory, an LBM of medium size which has sprouted in several locations about a foot and a half up from ground level. Since 'shrooms are decomposers, I'm inclined to believe that this means my wisteria isn't as healthy as it appears. Fungus generally appears on weakened wood. The wisteria has never been particularly happy with its northside location, producing only a few flower clusters over its thirty-year life span. It may be time to change up the front yard landscape.

Lecanora Pacifica And Friends

Day 108: I'm taking advantage of the shelter afforded by my carport to acquaint myself with the luxurious lichen population growing on the wisteria. I'd never really looked at it closely, and therefore was unaware that its main trunk, as big around as my biceps, shows hardly any bark at all between colonies of assorted Lecanoras and some sooty-black Mycoblastus. Lecanora pacifica seems to dominate, its greenish disks often layering over one another on the shady side. In fact, I've spent a lot of this month analyzing bark and fence rails in my yard, unwilling to brave the incessant rain.

Let me put this in perspective for you. I've been keeping weather records more or less continuously since March 1975, here since 1990 and near Olympia prior to that date. Average annual rainfall at my present location is roughly 45" per year. There have been years when it was substantially lower, and there have been a few when it was significantly higher. We usually get our heaviest precipitation in November and March and occasionally in January. We are having one of those drenching January deviations. There has not been a single day in 2020 that I have not recorded precipitation in some form or another, maybe a few snowflakes or a light shower, or maybe an utter downpour. In any event, as of 1:59 PM today, my gauge shows a total of 10.38". We still have two and a half days to go.

I do not hike in the rain. I did my time in the rain when I worked at Carbon River, penetrating rain which demonstrated that the Goretex of the era wasn't quite as refined as the manufacturers claimed. I often came back from my patrols soaked to the bone and mud up to the neck (or farther). I figure I've put in my share of drowned hours, but now I can pick my hiking days according to the forecast. That's not to say I won't hike in light drizzle, but I will not, repeat not go out in a frog-strangler unless I am compelled to do so by unassailable reason. Today I am wondering: does wanting to kill something count? I NEED OUT!

Cool Quartet

Day 226: I'm really jazzed about my garden right now. Who wouldn't be, when this quartet is playing upbeat blues? I'm ashamed to admit that the wisteria surprised me. I hadn't noticed that it was in bud, and here it is, in full flower. The clematis is a new addition ("Multi Blue"). I thought my beautiful "Vancouver Sea Breeze" had died off after being buried under snow for a month, but when I went to plant its replacement, I discovered a pair of new stems. Two clematis isn't a bad thing, although they're going to have to share the same trellis. The Siberian iris and Bachelor's Buttons are old-fashioned favourites without which my flower beds would feel incomplete. The blues are cool!

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!

Wisteria

Day 190: Unseasonally warm weather (read, "temperatures in the upper 80s") has brought several plants in my yard into early bloom, notably the red dogwood and wisteria. The latter was barely showing buds a week ago; today, a purple cascade tumbles down the east corner of my carport. In past years, this untidy, rampant vine has been a sporadic producer, generally showing less than a dozen clusters before its leaves emerge and dominate the display. I've pruned, and I've not pruned, learning in the process that the plant has a mind of its own. No measure on my part seems to make a difference to its behaviour, so other than taming it to prevent its invading the rafters, I'll allow it to have its run.

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.

Wisteria

Day 233: Although my wisteria is far from the spectacular, thick vines you find blanketing other peoples' porches and trellises, it keep my carport shady and has provided an excellent foundation on which many generations of robins have built nests and reared their young. It rewards me with a few scattered, pendant blooms and an abundance of leaves with little care but for the occasional radical pruning. It tends to invade the trusses of the carport's interior when I'd rather it crawled over the roof, so every few years, I take down the brittle stragglers in the hopes of encouraging outward growth. Its main trunk is as thick as my upper arm, and several lesser branches have wound themselves around each other to the point of appearing braided. It clambers over itself, having long since destroyed the lattice I put up for its support when it was but a stripling vine as it coiled about the laths like a boa constrictor. Despite its paucity of blooms, it is a fascinating study in textures, and in the force which Nature can exert in the simple development of cells.