Portulaca In A Pot

Day 260: For all of Portulaca being described as "self-sowing," a phrase which inclines one to think it would be easy to grow, I have had very little luck starting it from seed. Late this spring, I found myself with one prepared container and nothing to put in it, so I wandered around in a nursery for half an hour until something caught my eye. A four-inch starter pot with several colours and a reasonable price of $2 made it irresistible. It has proven to be quite a worthwhile investment as it is now beginning to take over the container, and its patchwork of warm hued flowers rising above succulent foliage brightens my mornings when I look out the kitchen door. Portulaca is also known as "Moss Rose." It is native to South America and withstands heat and dry soils fairly well.

Honeysuckle, Lonicera Sp.

Day 259: If I'd taken a minute to think about it, I would have realized why the nectar level in the hummingbird feeders wasn't dropping as rapidly as it was two weeks ago. The Honeysuckle (Lonicera) had come into bloom! My plant climbs up one corner of the garage where it generally goes unnoticed until some point when I step out in the back yard and am assailed with a waft of sweet scent. It's leggy and ragged, but then, I knew it would be like that when I planted it, and it should be noted that I did not plant it for myself; I planted it for the hummers. My "landscaping" (a term which is laughably inappropriate when discussing my yard) is like that: tatty, not structured in the least, floriferous but undisciplined, yet purposeful in its chaos. Call it my botanical "junk drawer," filled with useful things all tangled up with one another: cabled shrubby habitat, nuts-and-bolts nectar producers, twist-tie pollinator attractors and the occasional "why did I save this" item which never seems to get tossed. There's probably something in it which would suffice to patch a leak, connect two parts, fill a gap, take care of any except the most major repair. And there are even some things in it which improve on the existing measures...like Honeysuckle, drawing the hummers away from the sugar water in the feeders.

Mac Is Back!

Day 258: Mac is back! Last year, my "pet" Corallorhiza maculata was nipped off by something (deer, slug, squirrel...I don't know who the culprit was) when it was only about six inches tall. This year, she's making up for lost time by putting up two stalks which, as you can see here, are just beginning to flower. I've done my best to protect the plant by installing an 18" high chicken-wire fence around it, staked to the ground with short lengths of bamboo garden wand. That said, the Corallorhizas are amazingly resilient. Many can remain in a dormant state for years without ever breaking ground. The key lies in the plants' companion fungi. Each species of Coralroot has one or more specific "companion" fungi on which they depend. The fungi break down nutrients in the soil which can then be taken up by the plant. Currently, there is debate among botanists as to whether this is parasitism (in which case the fungus derives no benefit from the plant) or true mycoheterotrophy (a cooperative arrangement in which plant and fungus provide some requirement). I hold with the latter view on the hypothesis that if a long-term partnership has evolved, then it must in some way be advantageous to both parties. Despite the fact that we haven't identified what that exchange might be, absence of evidence does not negate the possiblility of it existing in some way we cannot detect. Good science is inquiry, not denial.

Western Tanager, Documented

Day 257: I had a lot of help from Mother Nature in capturing this image of a Western Tanager (Piranga ludoviciana) who was visiting my yard. I've found these birds to be difficult to document photographically. They always jump out of the frame a fraction of a second before the shutter engages, or they hide among foliage, only revealing themselves with the occasional tantalizing flash of orange and yellow. How did Ma help me out? Well, we're building up to a heat wave here, and as a consequence, it's been quite windy. Mr. Tanager (yes, this is a male) was struggling to keep his balance on the wire and was so preoccupied that he didn't notice when I opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch. I had just enough time to snap four or five shots at 74x digital zoom, this being the best of the lot. I knew it had been too much to hope for his appearance on my Big Day because Tanagers don't often come to the yard. That said, this is the second time I've seen him this year.

Alliance

Day 256: For the first time since the pandemic began, Mount Rainier National Park will be sending a contingent of rangers to march in Seattle's Pride Parade. I will be among them. Yes, I am concerned about covid. Moreso (and particularly in light of recent events), I am worried about potential violence. I am going nevertheless. Why? Of the people in my close acquaintance, roughly 50 percent are either LGBTQ+ or have an LGBTQ+ family member. These are people I care about, people whose rights as human beings may very well be in serious jeopardy. It is one way I can say, "I am an ally. I respect your choices." I am fed up to the back teeth with groups of people telling other groups of people that their way is the only way, that their religious beliefs supercede those of others, that their opinions are the only ones that matter. I am tired of hypocrisy and of divisiveness. I am sick of people being judged by the colour of their skins, by what private acts they engage in with a consenting partner. If their rights fall, what next? We cannot stand idly by when the lives of friends and their families are threatened. Be an ally.

Brunnera "Jack Frost"

Day 255: First, a word of explanation: I often use my blog posts as a botanical record, referring back to them for details about a plant, its phenological cycle, and sometimes even its nomenclature, so when I attempted to look up Brunnera because I had forgotten its name, I was surprised to see that nothing came up when I searched on "forget-me-not." Okay, Brunnera is not a true forget-me-not (Myosotis), but that was something I would have mentioned when discussing it. I found Pentaglottis, another forget-me-not look-alike, but there was no post about Brunnera, so I will remedy that today.

Brunnera is a comparatively non-invasive alternate for people who want that "forget-me-not blue" in their gardens. It is far less likely to spread, and easier to remove if it does attempt to escape its bounds. Flowers aside, many people grow it for its foliage with the silver-speckled varieties like "Jack Frost" (above) being exceptionally popular. The relatively large heart-shaped leaves are borne on a compact plant which can be pruned to maintain a mound-like shape if it gets leggy. Best of all, it prefers a sun-fleck environment, and in dappled light, those beguiling blue eyes are a guaranteed winner. Mine was a gift from my botany partners, Joe and Sharon.

Sunflower Seed

Day 254: Let me introduce you to Sunflower Seed. That's the name I've given to any number of young visitors who are at great risk of getting their little Pine Siskin bottoms stepped on because they are so well camouflaged against the hulls scattered by the birds at the feeders. My vision is not particularly good, and several times during periods of low light, I have come narrowly close to tromping one of my dear children. Siskins are friendly creatures even as adults, but the youngsters are as innocent of the world as any bird I've met. They often take seed from my palm or perch on my hand to eat, and those feeding on the ground don't seem to understand that the great lumbering animal approaching them constitutes any sort of threat. I've taken to shuffling down the sidewalk, but even so, they often refuse to budge. I'd never forgive myself if I stepped on a Sunflower Seed.