Showing posts with label Happy New Year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Happy New Year. Show all posts
December 24, 2024
January 04, 2024
New Year, New Growth
Sometimes little surprises bring tiny hopes and pleasures.
Back in early December, I posted about an arrangement that included Chrysanthemum foliage and a flower that was still blooming.
I was lazy about removing the vase of foliage and berries, although I changed the water a couple of times. Imagine my surprise when new foliage started shooting up out of the top.
Yes, the Mum cuttings were forming new roots! I couldn't just throw them out, so...
I repotted a few, and I'll replant them in the garden in spring. It's a circle of life moment. Happy New Year!
[Alternate title for this post: "Unintentional Propagation." ;-) ]
January 06, 2023
Strange Weather, But Happy Plants
After a cold snap during the holidays, we're warm here in the Midwest--we've been consistently warmer than "normal" since late December, and projected to continue through the 10-day forecast. I'm not complaining: It's definitely more comfortable than normal for this time of year. We've had rounds of light snow, which melts quickly with highs in the 30s and 40s F.
The garden seems OK, but I'm a bit worried about lack of insulation if we suddenly get colder again.
I checked the Hellebores (H. orientalis), and they're definitely budding. I re-covered them with layers of leaf litter to protect them in case of future colder days.
I leave the stems and seeds of last year's plants for overwintering insects (in the stems) and birds (food from the seeds). The Wild Senna (S. hebecarpa) seeds are attractive in their own right.
The mosses are fascinating to study--in every season and all types of weather.
'Autumn Joy' Sedum (Hylotelephium spectabile) has an attractive burgundy cast and looks lovely coated in light snow.
In most winters, the Epimediums (E. x rubrum previous and E. x warleyense here) are ravaged by rabbits, but our rabbit numbers seem lower lately. Maybe they'll snack more in the spring.
I checked the Hellebores (H. orientalis), and they're definitely budding. I re-covered them with layers of leaf litter to protect them in case of future colder days.
I leave the stems and seeds of last year's plants for overwintering insects (in the stems) and birds (food from the seeds). The Wild Senna (S. hebecarpa) seeds are attractive in their own right.
The mosses are fascinating to study--in every season and all types of weather.
'Autumn Joy' Sedum (Hylotelephium spectabile) has an attractive burgundy cast and looks lovely coated in light snow.
In most winters, the Epimediums (E. x rubrum previous and E. x warleyense here) are ravaged by rabbits, but our rabbit numbers seem lower lately. Maybe they'll snack more in the spring.
Climbing rose (Rosa setigera) foliage is still attractive, even as the color fades.
I was surprised to see the Mums (unknown species/cultivar) still show some green; probably because of our mild temperatures.
That's a brief overview of some of the outdoor plants. Shown here is the potted Passion Flower (Passiflora incarnata) that spends the winter in the sunroom. Stay tuned for an update on the indoor plants soon.
Happy New Year!
December 21, 2022
December 21, 2021
December 31, 2019
Twelve of My Favorite Things (2019)
It's the end of one year, and the beginning of another; time to remember and time to hope.
For several years now on this blog, I've created end-of-year lists of my favorite garden and nature "things." They help me appreciate each moment and each season in its time.
This time, the remembering and the hoping are overlapping more than usual; I'm not sure why, but I'm finding this phenomenon interesting. Also, while looking back over the memories, I realized that with the exception of a couple of the months, these were experiences that were new to me. And of course, I hope to experience them again.
In any case, here are 12 moments from the past year that give me hope for the year ahead.
I cheated with this January memory; it actually happened in February...but it was awesome. I was heading down to the lake for a hike and noticed the sky. The photo doesn't really do it justice, but the light and the clouds and the bare tree branches...it was all so dramatic. I look forward to more dramatic sky moments in the winter weeks ahead.
We had a mild February in 2019--most of the ice on the nearby lake melted at one point, and the waterfowl congregated in large numbers. While this is not really normal, it's always exciting to see the lakes melt because it means spring can't be far away.
After the mild February, we had a bit of a relapse in mid-March with some heavy snow. The robins were already back, and they had to find little patches of open ground to dig for worms. I hope this particular memory doesn't repeat itself in 2020.
I'll never forget the masses of butterflies that covered the Pachysandra in April. While there are always many migrant American ladies, painted ladies, and red admirals in the garden each spring, I've never seen so many at once in my garden--everywhere I looked. Yes, please: I hope this will happen again this spring.
Trilliums have always been plentiful in the backyard woodland since we moved here 20 years ago--mainly T. grandiflorum and T. erectum. Last spring, for the first time, I discovered a new volunteer. At first I thought it was T. sessile, but on closer examination of the sepal positions (downward rather than upward around the flower), I believe it's a Prairie Trillium (T. recurvatum). I will be hunting for this one again in May.
While I've seen many Penstemon plants over the years, this one blew me away: Rocky Mountain Penstemon (P. strictus). For some reason, I don't remember noticing it during previous visits to Colorado; maybe the timing wasn't quite right. While attending the Denver Garden Bloggers Fling in June, I was mesmerized by this beauty in several gardens. (In 2020, the Fling will be in Madison, which will offer more new discoveries!)
My favorite thing for July was not new, but it was as special as ever: more butterflies in the garden. In midsummer, the monarchs were plentiful here. Apparently, they had a great summer, overall, and people reported huge waves and roosts during the autumn migration south. Dr. Chip Taylor at Monarch Watch, however, predicts lower overwintering numbers this year. I do hope there will be many visitors to my garden next summer--laying eggs on the milkweed plants and nectaring on the garden flowers.
In August, I discovered a new hiking spot. I can't believe I'd never checked it out before, because it's only a few minutes from my home. One of the delightful things about this property is that it's filled with native wildflowers. It also combines waves of various ecosystems--woodlands, prairies, wetlands, rocky spots, and the edges of all of these. The biodiversity is incredible. Yes, I will be hiking here again in 2020!
Do you ever feel lucky to be in the right place at the right time? That was the case in September when I happened upon some blooming Indiangrass (Sorghastrum nutans). It wasn't necessarily a new experience, but viewing it and photographing it at close range at the peak of bloom gave me a new appreciation for its beauty that I will carry into the future.
It's always nifty to have garden visitors, but they're especially fun to see well into October. I simply enjoyed this little buddy hanging out on the Marigolds. Insects are fascinating, and I hope many more will visit the garden in 2020.
Snapdragons in the snow! That's a new one for me. I think they even would have bloomed again if I'd brought them inside to overwinter. You have to appreciate tough plants like that, and I'll plant more Antirrhinum majus in the new year.
Finally, in December I checked out a hiking spot I hadn't been to for a while, and I introduced it to the dog. He liked it! It's always a bonus to find a great place to hike that also allows dogs. Win-win! I'm sure we'll trek here repeatedly in 2020!
My hope is that you, too, will find many "favorite things" and gifts that will bring you much joy in the year ahead.
Happy New Year!
For several years now on this blog, I've created end-of-year lists of my favorite garden and nature "things." They help me appreciate each moment and each season in its time.
In any case, here are 12 moments from the past year that give me hope for the year ahead.
I cheated with this January memory; it actually happened in February...but it was awesome. I was heading down to the lake for a hike and noticed the sky. The photo doesn't really do it justice, but the light and the clouds and the bare tree branches...it was all so dramatic. I look forward to more dramatic sky moments in the winter weeks ahead.
We had a mild February in 2019--most of the ice on the nearby lake melted at one point, and the waterfowl congregated in large numbers. While this is not really normal, it's always exciting to see the lakes melt because it means spring can't be far away.
After the mild February, we had a bit of a relapse in mid-March with some heavy snow. The robins were already back, and they had to find little patches of open ground to dig for worms. I hope this particular memory doesn't repeat itself in 2020.
I'll never forget the masses of butterflies that covered the Pachysandra in April. While there are always many migrant American ladies, painted ladies, and red admirals in the garden each spring, I've never seen so many at once in my garden--everywhere I looked. Yes, please: I hope this will happen again this spring.
Trilliums have always been plentiful in the backyard woodland since we moved here 20 years ago--mainly T. grandiflorum and T. erectum. Last spring, for the first time, I discovered a new volunteer. At first I thought it was T. sessile, but on closer examination of the sepal positions (downward rather than upward around the flower), I believe it's a Prairie Trillium (T. recurvatum). I will be hunting for this one again in May.
While I've seen many Penstemon plants over the years, this one blew me away: Rocky Mountain Penstemon (P. strictus). For some reason, I don't remember noticing it during previous visits to Colorado; maybe the timing wasn't quite right. While attending the Denver Garden Bloggers Fling in June, I was mesmerized by this beauty in several gardens. (In 2020, the Fling will be in Madison, which will offer more new discoveries!)
My favorite thing for July was not new, but it was as special as ever: more butterflies in the garden. In midsummer, the monarchs were plentiful here. Apparently, they had a great summer, overall, and people reported huge waves and roosts during the autumn migration south. Dr. Chip Taylor at Monarch Watch, however, predicts lower overwintering numbers this year. I do hope there will be many visitors to my garden next summer--laying eggs on the milkweed plants and nectaring on the garden flowers.
In August, I discovered a new hiking spot. I can't believe I'd never checked it out before, because it's only a few minutes from my home. One of the delightful things about this property is that it's filled with native wildflowers. It also combines waves of various ecosystems--woodlands, prairies, wetlands, rocky spots, and the edges of all of these. The biodiversity is incredible. Yes, I will be hiking here again in 2020!
Do you ever feel lucky to be in the right place at the right time? That was the case in September when I happened upon some blooming Indiangrass (Sorghastrum nutans). It wasn't necessarily a new experience, but viewing it and photographing it at close range at the peak of bloom gave me a new appreciation for its beauty that I will carry into the future.
It's always nifty to have garden visitors, but they're especially fun to see well into October. I simply enjoyed this little buddy hanging out on the Marigolds. Insects are fascinating, and I hope many more will visit the garden in 2020.
Snapdragons in the snow! That's a new one for me. I think they even would have bloomed again if I'd brought them inside to overwinter. You have to appreciate tough plants like that, and I'll plant more Antirrhinum majus in the new year.
Finally, in December I checked out a hiking spot I hadn't been to for a while, and I introduced it to the dog. He liked it! It's always a bonus to find a great place to hike that also allows dogs. Win-win! I'm sure we'll trek here repeatedly in 2020!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
These simple pleasures, and many more, promise that the year ahead will be bright. Each month offers its own unique, simple blessings.
My hope is that you, too, will find many "favorite things" and gifts that will bring you much joy in the year ahead.
Happy New Year!
December 30, 2018
Twelve of My Favorite Things (2018)
For several years now on this blog, I've created end-of-year lists of my favorite garden and nature "things." They help me appreciate each moment and each season in its time.
Every day is a blessing, and here are some "favorites" of the past year that I hope to experience again in 2019.
In January, I look forward to a few mild days for winter hiking.
Perhaps the potted Purple Shamrock (Oxalis triangularis) will bloom again in February.
Will the garden Rhubarb poke through the soil in March?
I'll have to remember to cage or spray (with organic methods) the Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica) before the rabbits eat them.
Sauteed Fiddleheads (Matteuccia struthiopteris) will be on the menu in May. (Note: Some Fiddleheads can be toxic, so do your research before consuming them.)
How to pick a favorite flower in June? Impossible!
July (and earlier!) will provide plenty of opportunities to search for monarch eggs on various Milkweeds (shown here Asclepias syriaca). I'm sure I'll captive-raise a few caterpillars/butterflies, for the pure joy of the experience and to help the species.
Our friends, the sandhill cranes, likely will cross our paths as we hike the local prairies and woodland openings in August.
I'll spend hours observing the acrobatic ruby-throated hummingbirds in September before they all depart for points south.
In October, I hope to have 'Explosion' Dahlias and Mexican Sunflowers (Tithonia rotundifolia) blooming until the first frost.
If I'm lucky and prepared, I'll be able to refrigerate and display a few Zinnias in early November arrangements.
Finally, in December, I'll enjoy the late afternoon shadows and light effects over the lake.
These simple pleasures, and many more, promise that the year ahead will be bright. Each month carries its own unique, simple blessings.
I hope you, too, will find many "favorite things" and gifts that will bring you much joy in the year ahead.
Happy New Year!
Every day is a blessing, and here are some "favorites" of the past year that I hope to experience again in 2019.
In January, I look forward to a few mild days for winter hiking.
Perhaps the potted Purple Shamrock (Oxalis triangularis) will bloom again in February.
Will the garden Rhubarb poke through the soil in March?
I'll have to remember to cage or spray (with organic methods) the Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica) before the rabbits eat them.
Sauteed Fiddleheads (Matteuccia struthiopteris) will be on the menu in May. (Note: Some Fiddleheads can be toxic, so do your research before consuming them.)
 |
| (Clockwise from top left: Blue-Eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium), 'Little Henry' Virginia Sweetspire (Itea virginica), Woodland Pinkroot (Spigelia marilandica), and 'Pearl Glam' Beautyberry (Callicarpa spp.). |
How to pick a favorite flower in June? Impossible!
July (and earlier!) will provide plenty of opportunities to search for monarch eggs on various Milkweeds (shown here Asclepias syriaca). I'm sure I'll captive-raise a few caterpillars/butterflies, for the pure joy of the experience and to help the species.
Our friends, the sandhill cranes, likely will cross our paths as we hike the local prairies and woodland openings in August.
I'll spend hours observing the acrobatic ruby-throated hummingbirds in September before they all depart for points south.
In October, I hope to have 'Explosion' Dahlias and Mexican Sunflowers (Tithonia rotundifolia) blooming until the first frost.
If I'm lucky and prepared, I'll be able to refrigerate and display a few Zinnias in early November arrangements.
Finally, in December, I'll enjoy the late afternoon shadows and light effects over the lake.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
These simple pleasures, and many more, promise that the year ahead will be bright. Each month carries its own unique, simple blessings.
I hope you, too, will find many "favorite things" and gifts that will bring you much joy in the year ahead.
Happy New Year!
December 31, 2017
Twelve of My Favorite Things (2017)
This year flew by so fast! It was challenging for all of us but, as always, there were so many things to be thankful for, and so many things to happily anticipate in the year ahead.
For the past several years, I've created lists of my favorite garden and nature "things" to celebrate as one year passes to the next. They help me appreciate each moment and each season in its time.
Thomas More wisely said, "The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden. If you don't want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don't have a soul." I certainly find an indication of paradise in the garden and in nature. In that spirit, I contemplated simple gardening and nature joys of this year that I look forward to in the months ahead.
In January, while much of the landscape will be dormant and covered with snow, the mosses will continue to fascinate--especially the ones that grow on the sides of the rock wall.
The days lengthen in February, and if I'm lucky I'll catch a few stunning sunsets down by the lake and elsewhere.
The first sturdy spring-flowering bulbs will poke through the leaf mulch sometime in March.
In April, the crabapple blossoms will explode with heavenly scents and delightful beauty.
May is the month of the woodland ephemerals, including the tiny pink-pollened Spring Beauties (Claytonia virginica).
Early in June, I'm likely to see the first Monarch butterflies of the season!
What could be sweeter than a July day filled with Coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea) and bumblebees?
Sometime in August, the Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) plants will reach their peak bloom--filling the air with the scent of vanilla and attracting more bees and butterflies.
In September, the side garden will burst with late-summer blooms.
October will be bright with blooms and fiery foliage.
In November, my garden will move indoors, but the little joys will continue as long as there are plants to tend.
As December ends the year, tiny buds of promise on Clematis 'Nelly Moser' will offer hope for the next season.
When I think of these simple pleasures, and many more, the year ahead looks brighter. Each month carries its own unique, simple blessings.
My wish for you in the year ahead is that you'll find many "favorite things" and gifts that will bring you much joy.
Happy New Year!
For the past several years, I've created lists of my favorite garden and nature "things" to celebrate as one year passes to the next. They help me appreciate each moment and each season in its time.
Thomas More wisely said, "The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden. If you don't want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don't have a soul." I certainly find an indication of paradise in the garden and in nature. In that spirit, I contemplated simple gardening and nature joys of this year that I look forward to in the months ahead.
In January, while much of the landscape will be dormant and covered with snow, the mosses will continue to fascinate--especially the ones that grow on the sides of the rock wall.
The days lengthen in February, and if I'm lucky I'll catch a few stunning sunsets down by the lake and elsewhere.
The first sturdy spring-flowering bulbs will poke through the leaf mulch sometime in March.
In April, the crabapple blossoms will explode with heavenly scents and delightful beauty.
May is the month of the woodland ephemerals, including the tiny pink-pollened Spring Beauties (Claytonia virginica).
Early in June, I'm likely to see the first Monarch butterflies of the season!
What could be sweeter than a July day filled with Coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea) and bumblebees?
Sometime in August, the Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) plants will reach their peak bloom--filling the air with the scent of vanilla and attracting more bees and butterflies.
In September, the side garden will burst with late-summer blooms.
October will be bright with blooms and fiery foliage.
In November, my garden will move indoors, but the little joys will continue as long as there are plants to tend.
As December ends the year, tiny buds of promise on Clematis 'Nelly Moser' will offer hope for the next season.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When I think of these simple pleasures, and many more, the year ahead looks brighter. Each month carries its own unique, simple blessings.
My wish for you in the year ahead is that you'll find many "favorite things" and gifts that will bring you much joy.
Happy New Year!