I'll Be Missing You

Grabbing Moments While We Can

Everything seems to be on fast-forward now. We had the weirdest early spring I can remember (April was more like winter than March was), and now all the plants are catching up. In a rare display of florescence (floriferousnous? blooms on steroids?), the Crabapples, Redbuds, Lilacs, and some Magnolias were all blooming at the same time last week.

At the UW-Madison Arboretum's Longenecker Garden, which has one of the largest displays of Lilacs in the world, it was like a symphony of sights, scents, and even sounds. One woman sitting on a bench was quietly singing a lovely song.

This is old news now--sadly, many of these trees have lost their blooms. But it was splendid while it lasted. Here, in no particular order, are some highlights.

A Hummingbird's Nest

Wordless Wednesday
Wildlife Wednesday
Nature Notes

Update: Unfortunately, soon after I posted these photos, a predator raided the hummingbird's nest. I have theories on why this happened (cold night, deep torpor, a young mum, crows in the area, etc.), but there's really no way to know for sure. It was a sweet experience to see her constructing and guarding her nest--a first for me. I can only hope that she's OK and will be able to have another nest full of eggs to guard soon.

Lessons in Awe and Wonder

On a royal-blue-sky day in late May, a House Wren trills its energetic song of joy. Cottonwood seeds float their fluff on the afternoon breeze, sparkling as they capture the dappled sun/shade filtering through the Oak canopy.

A familiar Black-Capped Chickadee lands on a branch above the pond--an arm's length from where I sit. A blonde Eastern Gray Squirrel scolds me from a crook of the Redbud tree, while a young child's voice in the distance calls happily for "Daddy!"



In the front garden, three healthy American Robin chicks have just left their nest, the same day a Ruby-Throated Hummingbird now sits atop a new nest of avian wonder.

All these tiny "miracles" and many more prompt my quiet prayer of thanksgiving for the beautiful gifts I'm witnessing. And then a butterfly--an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail--flutters across the field of vision, as if on cue from the director of a feature film, at the perfect timing for full effect.



This spring has been a season of yo-yo weather and a whirlwind of personal and professional challenge and accomplishment. It was a busy gardening season, ushering in great promise for the months ahead. But these brief moments of garden reflection are the big payoff. They can't be learned in a textbook, nor earned through heavy labor. They're free and available for all of us, if we only take a little time to notice.

These are my moments of awe and wonder. They leave me breathless and filled with great joy.

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How about you? Did you learn new lessons or experience moments of wonder this season? Welcome to the "Garden Lessons Learned" meme. To join in, simply write a post or share one you've already written about lessons you've learned during the past season. Then share your links or simple observations in the comments. I'll keep this post up for a few days, and it will be available always under the Lessons Learned tab at the top of this blog.

I'll share your "lessons" posts on the PlantPostings Facebook Page closer to the solstice.

Happy summer to friends in the Northern Hemisphere, and happy winter to those in the Southern Hemisphere!

Twelve of my favorite things

Reflecting on the past year, I realized I tend to "wish away" the colder months in my northern climate.

That's not a healthy way to live.

Time marches on too quickly, no matter what the season.

To change my attitude, I decided to create a list of my favorite outdoor "things"--one per month--so I'll have something tangible to look forward to in each season. Selections for some months were easier, because true favorites came to mind. Others were tough--either because I prefer to stay indoors (January, February), or because there are too many favorite things (May-August).

Sometimes the transition months are the toughest emotionally--especially late August through September.

So here's my list. These favorites might change from year-to-year, but they're some of the highlights that will help me savor each month in the year ahead and avoid wishing away the days.



January is brutal here. But even on the coldest days (-20F/-28C), when most creatures are hiding under cover, the dark-eyed juncos still make an appearance and are very fun to watch.



Nothing beats the winter blahs like a walk to the lake to see fascinating ice formations. Sunny, "mild" days are the best.



Much of March is still wintry here, but under the snow and leaf mulch, the Hellebores are budding. Their emergence (late March or early April) is as miraculous as their full blooms.



April is a variable month in Wisconsin. It might be snowing one day, and 80F two days later. Often, the Star Magnolias bloom in April.



There is no earthly place more beautiful than southern Wisconsin in May. Since I had to pick a favorite, I chose Trilliums. But May overflows with incredible spring ephemerals.



And then the Roses bloom! I have very few in my garden, but June is the peak of their beauty here. I could spend hours gazing at a single Rose, even when it isn't perfect.



I made a slight exception in July. I chose a summer collection of flowers blooming alongside the vegetables in my potager as one favorite bouquet. The pollinators love them, too.



In August, I can have as many BLT sandwiches with fresh Tomatoes as I want. Need I say more?



September is a transition month, and is often difficult for me. Fortunately, the hummingbirds are especially active as they prepare for and begin their migration. Definitely something to look forward to.



In early October, the monarchs are still migrating through the area. As the Maple and Oak leaves change to red and orange, they mix with monarchs floating down from the heavens.



What can I say about November? Not a favorite month, although there's always so much to be thankful for--including Mosses. If you look closely, they're truly incredible!



December is uncomfortable in this climate, although stunningly beautiful with a fresh snowfall. Snow or no snow, the winter berries always add color to the landscape.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

When I think of these simple pleasures, and many more, the year ahead looks bright and hopeful. Each month carries its own unique blessings.

My wish for you in the year ahead is that you will find many simple pleasures and gifts that will bring you much joy.

Happy New Year!