Secret Places and Simple Pleasures

Recently the dog and I hiked at one of our favorite places. Several things about this location are special, starting with the fact that I wouldn't have known this beautiful place existed if I didn't have a dog. It's a designated dog trail at a Wisconsin state park near my house. When the park's other trails are closed during the cross-country skiing season, this trail remains open to dogs and hikers. While I've hiked at the state park many, many times over the years, I didn't discover this particular path until last winter!

Every time I've visited this trail since January, it has revealed new gems of beauty.



During our recent mid-November hike here, I found myself awed by the mature trees that line the trail.



Ferns, mosses, lichens, and sedges are still evergreen among the carpet of Oak leaves.



A particularly magical patch of the trail is hard to describe in photos and words, but I'll try: It's a little opening, about 3/4 of the way through the path, where the woodland opens into a meadow. My impression is that this section illustrates the movement of the glacier that formed the nearby lake.



On one side of the trail, there's a hill that appears to be a glacial drumlin.



On the other side of the trail, at the woodland opening, there's a beautiful meadow with a view of the lake. One senses how the retreating glacier formed this area.



The light is magical in this meadow--in all seasons, but particularly in spring and autumn and late afternoon, as the oblique light hits the grasses, sedges, wildflowers, and seedheads.



On this recent day at the park, the sky was beautiful, too. Seedheads of asters, goldenrods, and other autumn-blooming plants were sparkling--backlit by the low-hanging sun.

I love this place. I'm thankful I discovered it, and I'm thankful that Nicky and I can walk here just about any day we wish. Simple pleasures are so important during a global pandemic. I hope you all are finding simple pleasures, and I wish for those who celebrate it, a very Happy Thanksgiving!

Surprise November Blooms

The November view at my favorite dog park.

It's mid-November and most views in the surrounding landscapes are brown and gray, with spots of green grass red barns here and there. Just imagine the color in this field of native plants during summer and fall. Now most of the grasses and forbs have gone to seed.



But there are a few blooms hanging on here and there in area gardens and in nature. In my garden, the blooms of note include this surprise potted Mum (Chrysanthemum morifolium) from a mixed planter we received earlier in the year. I plopped it into the ground with low expectations, so I was thrilled to see the pretty blooms in early fall. They've lasted through several frosts and freezes now.



Most of the Blue Mistflowers (Conoclinium coelestinum) are gone to seed, but these blooms in a vase on the screened porch still sport that lovely shade of lavender blue. I have to admit the soft, fluffy, "warm" seedheads slay me even more than the flowers.



The 'Autumn Joy' Sedums (Hylotelephium telephium) are transitioning, too. I found this one chewed off by a rabbit, so I plugged it back in among the autumn leaves.

This tiny fighter is Calamintha (C. nepeta). Again, most have gone to seed, but a few stems near the warm house still bloom! Actually, this pollinator favorite blooms from late spring until the very end of the growing season.

What's blooming in your garden? Check out those highlighted for this November Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens.

A Vibrant End to the Growing Season

It's been a colorful October...

...starting with the bright pastels of the New World asters and the goldenrods, brightening up the prairies with colors that seemed unreal in their vibrance, like a child's watercolor painting.

The annuals in the cutting garden seemed to glow, too, including cultivars of Zinnias, Cosmos, and Angelonias.







About a week ago, when I thought the monarchs were long gone, I saw one floating on the breeze and then landing on the Mexican sunflowers (Tithonia rotundifolia 'Goldfinger'). The light was pleasant as the butterfly seemed at home on the bright orange blooms.













A hike this past week at the nearby state park shared its beauty of the warm maple foliage, rainbow-colored grasses, and a few remaining blooming forbs, including the lovely, but toxic-to-humans Wild Parsnip (Pastinaca sativa).



Now, mid-month we've hit peak fall color and the maples are aflame.

This is one of the most beautiful months of the year in my part of the world. The autumn season is too short, but it pops with color just before the freezing temperatures and winds take out what's left before winter sets in. I'm trying to live in the moment.

Happy 10th Anniversary, PlantPostings!

Ten years ago, I started this blog. I'm reminiscing lately: So much has happened in our world in that time, and so many plants have come and gone from my garden. I've learned so much in the garden and beyond. And as long as I garden, I'll learn something new every day and every year, which is a pleasure.

It's fun to look back and compare. One of my first posts describes the setting here, and that hasn't changed much. We've lost a few trees and so have our neighbors, while other trees have grown taller.

This all has changed the garden frame a bit, but the basic setting is about the same.

2010: More grass, fewer groundcovers, same and different trees

2020: More plants, less grass, a pond, same and different trees

In another early post, I decried the rabbits and mentioned my future dog ... which we did adopt eight years later (in December 2019). As described in that post, I'm still sticking with daffodils instead of tulips (except in pots).

Reminiscing is fun, especially with 10 years of posts to glance through. I'd say I'm looking forward to 10 more (and I am!), but who knows what blogging will look like 10 years from now. Will people still visit? Does it matter?

Which brings me to the most important part: Developing friendships with other plant-loving bloggers and communicators. These are among the most fulfilling friendships of my life because we share the same hobby/passion/pastime. As long as blogging (or something like it) is still alive and people are continuing to share ideas and updates about their plants and gardens, I want to be part of it.

Back in December 2010, I wrote about these special people:

"As I look ahead to 2011, I do so with hopeful anticipation. And a good portion of it is due to the new plant-loving, pleasant, lovely friends I’ve made through garden blogging. I’ve always known that gardeners are generous people. But I had no idea how many great people I’d meet through ... reading and commenting on fellow bloggers’ posts.

It’s interesting, actually, how most of our blogs are not about people at all, but about our garden successes, failures, and tips and tricks. But it’s the sharing of these that makes the gardening and the blogging so very rewarding."

Yes, this is what it's all about. Thanks, friends, for all these years of fun and garden-sharing conversations!