April's Prank

Day 174: Shame on you, April! Or as my grandmother used to reproach me as a child, "He who fools when Fool's is past / Is the biggest fool at last." My daffodils have collapsed under your humour, the Porch Parrots are in high dudgeon, and the first few venturesome swallows have apparently had second thoughts about their decision to move north, disapproving of the white carpet rolled out to welcome them. While a flake or two is not uncommon here in April, to have snow stick to the ground is not a frequent occurrence. It came in the night, following an afternoon of "snowy mix" and small hail from battleship-grey skies. By all rights, it should have melted immediately, rather than dragging the plow driver from his bed for a nominal sweep of the roadway. Perhaps he was grateful for one last chance to topple trash bins where they were set out for today's collection, or to take another swipe at those pesky mailboxes some contrary people just *will* put up along the roadside. He earned no points for either here, not this time around, but may have found a better opportunity further up the hill where the snow deepens. And here we thought the time for winter sports was done!

Heather, Comma

Day 166: March is a little early for the Commas to be out and about, so I was rather surprised to find one on my heather yesterday. The day was quite warm for March, peaking at 62 degrees, and in addition to the Comma, there were some small black and white butterflies I couldn't identify as well as a few honeybees and one fat bumble whose weight caused the tips of the heather to droop when he latched on, so that he was always hanging upside-down by the time I'd got the lens trained on him. I am assuming this is a Satyr Comma (Polygonia faunus), since that species is what usually comes to my yard. However, I was unable to observe the underside of the wing where the shape of the white marking which gives the species its common name would have confirmed the identification. Satyr's "comma" looks like a check mark; Green's is rounded, and resembles the comma of punctuation. In any case, both species nectar on the nettle flowers which at the present time are still tight buds. I'm glad Mr. Comma found heather to be an acceptable substitute.

Resilience

Day 141: Landscape heather (genus Erica) as is commonly seen in gardens is not too far removed genetically from that found in the alpine meadows (Phyllodoce) and in the highlands of Scotland (Calluna). Like its relatives, it is a resilient, yet vulnerable plant, able to withstand the relentless weight of winter's deep snow and the bitterest cold, yet one which dies beneath an idle, heedless foot-fall when in its full summer sap. It requires an acidic soil in order to thrive, and does not take well to pruning. Its flowers may be pink or white.

Heather

Day 157: "Tenacious" is a good word. The blooms on my purple heather are not this spring's crop; they've held on all winter, despite temps in the teens and being buried under more than a foot of snow for a couple of weeks. New buds are not yet in evidence on these plants, although they've popped out on the white-flowered variety and will soon be in full bloom. Planted a few years ago, these and the junipers are starting to spread nicely along the north side of my driveway.

When I first moved in, the landscaping consisted of one unidentified flowering tree and a few persistent primroses which managed to poke through the compacted ground. The flower beds beneath the windows were entirely overgrown with grass and, with the help of a friend, were dug out to a depth of 18" and the soil was carefully sifted for anything which might have been salvageable. We found delphiniums, peonies, grape hyacinths and a few daffodils, as well as unwanted English wood hyacinths which still occasionally pop up from time to time. Since then, I've added a number of trees to the yard, and have laid in new flower beds bordering the driveway and carport, as well as to the main areas under the windows. Now my yard is leafy and colourful, but I still have the Urge. Where can I plant something new this year? And what do I want to grow? The spring geas is upon me, and I must dig!

Easter Blooms

Day 185: The colour in my garden is patchy, but there's no denying that Spring has arrived. My earliest memories of Easter involved searching for eggs in my parents' garden, and I think it's fair to say that I was more entranced by the flowers than by the treats the famous Bunny had left beneath them. Invariably during my hunt, a few stems of Grape Hyacinth would be broken, and of course these were gathered up to be accompanied by a few deliberately-picked daffodils and the obligatory do-you-like-butter dandelions. Lilacs came later, in time for May Day, followed by the blood-red peonies which my father so dearly loved. Sometimes there were sweet peas, a plant I have never successfully grown here at the foot of the Mountain. Today, my complement includes daffodils and narcissi (we won't quibble over semantics), Fritillaria meleagris, grape hyacinth, pigsqueak (Bergenia), heather, a Patty Plant, wild currant, abundant hellebore and snowflakes. If the Bunny were to bring me eggs today, he'd have no trouble matching them to a hiding place, whatever colour they might be.

Heather

Day 153: Among the ground covers I've added to the garden over the last two years were several heathers, selected primarily because they were a lovely shade of dusty lavender. I was surprised to find that not one of them kept its original colour. Some have faded to white while others have reverted to the pink one typically expects of heather. Why? At first I suspected that the roots had taken up some of the dye in the bark mulch I applied to the bed. That accounted for the blush which appeared on some, but leaves me without a reason for the others to have lost their colour entirely. I am not aware that heather is sensitive to soil pH like some other plants are (hydrangea, for example), and in any event, a similar response should have been noted in all examples if that was the case. "Curiouser and curiouser," said Alice.

Purple When Purchased

Day 335: It was a pretty lavender colour when I bought it. I swear it was. I would not have bought a pink-flowering heather (or a pink-flowering anything else for that matter because I despise pink). It was a nice shade of greyish lavender, the colour one expects heather to be. Maybe it's the pH of my soil, although acidic soils generally influence flowers toward the blue end of the spectrum, as anyone who's ever tried to grow a pink hydrangea in western Washington will know all too well. Maybe it's taking up some of the red dye in the bark mulch I laid around it. That seems a more likely explanation. In any event, when I put in new plants this last spring, I added not one but two pots of heather. The second one isn't quite as rosy, but it's definitely not the same purple it was when I put it in the ground.

Making More Work

Day 183: I had to go to town today and wanted to pick up some more bark mulch for the garden, but wound up with a little extra time on my hands before an appointment. What happened next was as certain as death and taxes: I came out of the garden store with a full cart. My acquisitions included two more Blue Star Junipers, two "Furzey" Heathers, a Vinca minor, and two sedums and a stonecrop (a taller plant) which will be the centerpiece of the strawberry jar, presently under conversion to a succulent garden. This phenomenon is known as "making more work for myself," something I do all too frequently when planting season rolls around. With snow sprinkled on the hills above the house like powdered sugar on gingerbread, I successfully resisted the temptations offered by zonal geraniums and calibrachoa. Neither is frost-hardy. However, I did fall for the lure of a wrought-iron trellis which barely fit in my car.