Celebrating Turkeys, Native Plants, and Aldo Leopold

Last week, I visited the UW-Madison Arboretum; it surprisingly turned out to be great day to stop by. Children's programs were in progress, so it was fun to see the kids interacting with the critters and learning about the plants. The turkeys, in particular, seemed "excited" about the youthful activity.

I regularly volunteer at the Arb, but is was nice to wander around, observe, and enjoy at my own pace. Many plants in the Native Plant Garden were blooming, budding, and thriving after plentiful rain and sun, including:

Spiderwort



White Wild Indigo



Canada Anemone





Wild Roses



Field Oval Sedge



Smooth Phlox



Common Milkweed



Lead Plant



Oxeye Sunflower



Also, I had time to observe and enjoy the "Preserve" art installation, near the Arboretum Visitor Center. If you live in or near Madison, or plan a visit, check out the display.

It draws inspiration from Aldo Leopold, author of A Sand County Almanac, and research director for the Arboretum for 15 years, from 1933-1948.



The display showcases 1,000 documented species, demonstrating local ecological richness while inspiring conservation action and environmental stewardship.



The display is beautiful and educational.

Visitors can "sit awhile" inside the enclosure, on comfortably arranged Leopold benches. "Preserve" is definitely worth a visit if you're in the area. It will be in place through September 27, 2025.

Next up: more coverage of the Memphis Garden Fling. It was a stunner!

Fond Memories of Chanticleer

Chanticleer is a magical place.

I shared a few of my thoughts about it and photos last September, after the Philadelphia Garden Fling. But when I couldn't attend this year's recent Puget Sound Fling, it had me thinking about Chanticleer again.

My words and photos can't do it justice, but it seems like a good time to share a bit. I don't have tags for all the varieties of plants in my photos, but I did my best to ID most of them. Mainly, while at Chanticleer, I wanted to simply take it all in at this special place instead of focusing on the details too much. I definitely want to go back again...

The plantings were regal throughout the grounds, including these groupings of Birds-of-Paradise (Strelitzia nicolai), Elephant Ears (Colocasia esculenta), and Spider Plants (Chlorophytum comosum).



The pathways throughout the grounds were well-maintained and great for visitors of all abilities; subdued, but also beautiful.



The meadow edges were naturalistic, but at the same time artfully arranged.

This grouping of hedges and border plantings was organized, yet comfortable.



The Ruin Garden was fascinating--combining the beauty of historical structures with lush, beautiful, draping plants.



Here and there were surprise combinations, like this potted grouping of succulents.



The naturalistic, yet creatively placed, elements throughout the grounds really appealed to me--like this pollinator house paired with beautiful rocks, mosses, plants, and structures.



The wildlife seemed at peace at Chanticleer, too, like this juvenile great blue heron.

While I don't have all the variety names, here are some individual blooming plants that captured my eye:

Tricyrtis formosana

Physostegia virginiana

Lantana camara 'Samantha'

Hydrangea macrophylla

Echinacea purpurea 'Green Jewel'

Dahlia pinnata with Symphyotrichum spp.

Dahlia pinnata

Colchicum autumnale

Anemone x hybrida

The water features, perhaps most of all, really captivated me during our visit. Many who reported on Chanticleer after the Fling noted these lovely floating displays of mixed colorful blooms and foliage.

Nymphaea mexicana with koi

The koi fish enjoyed the Waterlilies as much as we did.

Nymphaea nouchali

Nymphaea mexicana

Our time at Chanticleer was enchanting and way too short. I must go back.

To learn more about the Garden Fling--past, recent, and future--visit gardenfling.org.

I Miss These Plants

I've been thinking lately about plants of the past: in particular, blooming plants no longer in my garden. Some were species I planted, others were presumably planted by the previous owners decades ago, and still others were natives growing in the woodland.

I glanced through old photos, and while there weren't as many "disappearances" as I expected, some are particularly missed like the Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) in the photo above. For most of the years we've lived here, I found patches of Bloodroot each spring. A beautiful native ephemeral, it only blooms for one to two days. The foliage remains throughout the spring, and the plant reappears the next year. Why is it missing?

While I don't truly know why any of these plants disappeared from the property, I'll try to guess. In the case of the Bloodroot, perhaps it's the changing conditions of several years of floods followed by several years of drought...or other factors relating to climate change. Or, perhaps the fox (and family?) that now lives in the back woodland dug around in the limited spots where the plant was located.

Another plant that's gone is the Toad Lily (Tricyrtis hirta). Unfortunately, this plant is long gone from my garden. It's a fun little bloomer, but it only lasted a couple of years. Either it didn't like the growing conditions (although they matched its described preferences), or the rabbits ate it, which seems more likely since rabbit foraging is a noted issue.



Meadow Evening Primrose (Oenothera pilosella) bloomed here off and on for two decades. I'm assuming the previous owners planted it, although it is native so it might have occurred naturally. I haven't found it in its "spot" for several years now. Such beautiful bright yellow flowers: I miss them. I really have no idea why this plant is gone.



I planted Russell Lupines (Lupinus polyphyllus) in the side garden many years ago. They're stately, tall bloomers, regularly visited by pollinators, and they're great cut flowers. I don't remember when they disappeared, but they are listed as short-lived perennials, so perhaps I should plant more.



Cushion Spurge (Euphorbia polychroma), planted by the previous owners, was a reliable bloomer in my garden from the first growing season here (2000) until a couple of years ago. It's not native, but it's not invasive, and it certainly was a reliable stalwart for most of my time here. As with the Oenothera, I have no idea why this one disappeared. Rabbits leave it alone, and the fox doesn't hang out much in its open area of the garden. It's also drought-tolerant.

Finally, I truly miss this beautiful bloomer that graced the side fenced garden. I don't remember which Delphinium (D. elatum) hybrid it was, but what a stunner! Delphiniums are noted as short-lived perennials, too. I don't know if I'll plant them again in this garden, because the growing conditions have changed and other plants are in this spot. But, maybe...?

Wordless Hungry Squirrel on the Shagbark Hickory

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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!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

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!