A Green Wideshot Wednesday

Is Wideshot Wednesday a meme? I don't know who hosts it, but I have an entry. I've been noticing how green everything is around here, so I snapped a few wide shots of the back garden. They show the mess and the fallen leaves and the lack of blooming plants, yes, but also how little fall color is in the woodland.





The ferns are senescing and some of the Oak leaves are falling, but most of the foliage on the trees and the plants is still very green. We've had a wet, warm September, which is unusual here. It's quite comfortable and lush, but strange.

Cooler weather in the next few weeks likely will bring on much more autumn color. Are you seeing fall color in your garden?

*****************

If you saw my last post, the monarchs in the classroom are making progress. Check it out. :)

Vignettes at the Solstice

I forced myself to get outside yesterday and take a short hike at a local park. I'm so glad I overcame inertia, laziness, and endless excuses, because it really was quite a beautiful day: 45F (7C), sunny skies, and no wind. Those days are numbered until next spring! No snow here yet, so the colors of the landscape are nuanced and mostly shades of gray and brown.

But there are always plenty of opportunities to notice nature's vignettes. Thanks to Anna at Flutter & Hum for hosting Wednesday Vignettes!



Where there's moss there are tiny forests of lush green growth.





Before and after buds ... evidence of rabbits?



With a largely brown and gray landscape, bright colors pop, like the Redosier Dogwood (Cornus sericea) and the blue sky.



Oh yes, the blue sky!



The nearly thawed pond soon will be frozen solid and covered with snow. Yesterday, however, it seemed like early spring, and the angled sun captured trees, dried stems, and grasses in magical ways.

After a little exercise on such a comfortable day, I felt energized and grateful to be alive. Not really ready for winter, but aware of and thankful for all the little blessings of each day.

Happy solstice!

My December Is Wordless

Finding Garden Treasures During the January Thaw

How does a hardy Wisconsin gal prepare for a garden walk-around on a mild day during a January thaw?



First, she looks out the upstairs window and surveys the landscape.

"Frankly, it looks kinda blah," she says to herself.

"Then again, the snow is mostly melted. Maybe there's something fun to discover out there ..."



So, she slips on her heavy-duty snow boots ...



Throws on a lightweight denim coat and gloves with fingers (for ease in operating her camera) ...

And begins to discover extraordinary beauty in very simple things.



Soft, evergreen Lamium plants under the receding snow.



A thriving sedge she transplanted into a pot last summer.



Evidence that birds have gained sustenance from the Echinacea plants.



The worn but welcoming backyard swing.



The surprisingly vivid glow of the dried Sedums.



Amazing mosses thriving in their perfectly cool growing conditions.



Buds on the Lilac bush waiting for their time to shine.



A long, decaying log covered in lacy fungi.



Is this Trametes versicolor? Or Bjerkandera adusta? Something else? (I'm consulting with mycologists behind the scenes to find out.)



Before she heads inside, she sits briefly on the bench at the back of the woods.



And as she approaches the house, she notices a large Black Oak leaf--larger than her hand. Why does this hefty, impressive leaf make her smile?

Perhaps because she feels so thankful for the great gift of a simple walk on a mild winter day.

Nature Notes on Rambling Woods

Lessons Learned Under the Cathedral of the Oaks

Every autumn, after the Locusts, Maples, Ashes, and other deciduous trees have faded, the Oaks seem to form a "stained glass" canopy overhead when the autumn light shines through at magical angles. While those Oak leaves are now long-gone in my neighborhood, the "cathedral of the Oaks" effect seemed appropriate for this introspective post.

Welcome to the 15th installment of the "Garden Lessons Learned" meme. I introduced this quarterly meme in June 2011, and looking back on all the entries amazes and humbles me.



Each season is unique. Sometimes, my own garden lessons are very practical--things I want to try to remember for "next time." Other "lessons" posts include facts I've learned during the past three months. Still others focus on internal reflections.



This post is the latter--a bit more introspective and personal (which tends to be more common for me in the fall and winter). This is in part because I was apprehensive about taking a break from blogging (my last post was more than two weeks ago). Turns out, the break was a healthy thing for me to do. It gave me a new perspective and a fresh focus for the blog going forward.



I'll share some plans in future posts, but for now, here are personal lessons learned during the past three months:

• It's fine to take a break from blogging. If you're like me, and you've settled into a routine of blogging once a week or more often, the idea of leaving that blank space of no posts for an extended period of time can be unsettling. I could say so much more about why I took the break and my reactions to it, but I'll simplify: I was busy, I needed an attitude-readjustment, and I'm refreshed and ready to begin again.

• You don't have to rush out with your camera every time you see a beautiful scene, an item of interest, or a personal life event. Social media--and blogging in particular--has the power to both enrich and taint our lives. Enrichment comes through meeting new friends, staying in touch with old ones, and sharing more experiences than was possible in the past. But social media also introduces the risk only seeing the world through the prism of what would be a good tweet, share, or blog post.

For example, the other day after a fresh snowfall, I saw a spectacular scene of a Maple tree with clinging autumn leaves, framed by a powdered-sugar landscape all around it. I was driving home, and once I arrived I had a choice: I could run back out with my camera to try to capture that scene, or I could spend those extra minutes with my daughter who's home for the Thanksgiving holiday. I chose the latter and I don't regret it. I don't mean to preach, because I fail on this lesson repeatedly and frequently. Life is a series of choices, isn't it? All I'm saying is that I, personally, must remind myself to live life fully and not always try to write, photograph, and post about it.

• Two weeks without blogging goes by very fast! Enough said.

• Blogging about gardening, plants, and nature is one of my favorite "things" to do. I guess I already knew this, but the break confirmed my feelings. Blogging has truly become a passion. If, when I was a young person, there had been an Internet, digital photography, and the concept of "blogging," I might have chosen this as a career. Alas, these options weren't in existence. No regrets; I'm simply joyful in continuing to share in this amazing community of garden and nature bloggers going forward!

Oh, and I did learn a few "practical" lessons:

• The fruit of Fuchsia plants is edible. In fact, depending on the variety, the plump, oval-shaped "berries" are quite tasty. I learned this lesson from Helene at Graphicality-UK. She commented about it on my blog (and discusses it a bit at the linked post in the previous sentence), so I decided to try Fuchsia berries. My cultivars tasted sweet and refreshing, with a hint of pepper at the end. My only warning is that some potting plants are treated with systemic pesticides at garden centers, so know your supplier before you consume Fuchsia berries.

• I found an eagle hangout near my home. I'll share photos soon, although I'll have to go back and hope the eagles will be there for better captures. The fishman and I saw two eagles through the mist in the distance when we were hiking, but they flew away before we got close enough. We believe they were Bald Eagles, but it was too foggy and we were too far away to tell for sure.

• The top of our heated fishpond makes a great cold frame. The fishman created an acrylic winter cover over the pond that lets the sun in but partially protects the plants from the elements. (Don't worry, there are vents on the sides of the pond as air exchange for the fish. They survived last winter's polar vortex in there!) The internal temperature under the cover hovers around 32F during the coldest of days when the heater is on, and rises to the 50sF and warmer on mild, sunny days. The lettuce plants are still alive, and the scallions are just about ready to pick!

What lessons did you learn during the past quarter? If you're in the Northern Hemisphere how was your autumn? For those in the Southern Hemisphere, how did your garden grow? Please share your lessons!

I'm switching things up again with this meme (I do hope you'll forgive me). As always, please write a post or share one you've already written about your "Lessons Learned" during the past season. Share your links in the comments to this post. I'll keep it up for a few days, and it will be available always under the "Lessons Learned" tab at the top of this blog.

One change: I'll forgo the "wrap-up" this time. Autumn and spring are long-gone for many of us already, and will seem like distant memories by the solstice.

At that point, we'll be deep in the celebrations of year-end holidays--the perfect hand-off to Donna's Seasonal Celebrations at Gardens Eye View! Feel free to join in with a post that fits both memes, or separate posts for one or both of them.

Bye for now!