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| (I'll miss you.) |
Filed under Wordless Wednesday and Garden Bloggers Harvest Day.
November 07, 2012
November 01, 2012
Garden confessions
Do you neglect any of your plants or sections of your garden? Of course you don't!
But, alas, I must confess that I do. One example is a grouping of Chrysanthemums I've sorely neglected since we moved here 13 years ago.
I know I'm supposed to pinch, divide, and winter-protect Mums, but...well...yeah, I've pretty much ignored them beyond a little watering and cutting back in the fall.
I don't know why. Maybe it's because I take them for granted and they've always survived. Or because they're so underappreciated by many gardeners (kind of like Hostas that way). Or because they flower when I'm spending most of my time inside reading books or preparing for the holidays.
OK, enough with the excuses! I'm just a poor Mum gardener!
So, it surprised me this year when I noticed how pretty they are--maybe the prettiest they've ever been. When we moved here, they were all bright yellow. The kind of sunny, perky color that you can't witness without smiling.
But as I reported in a previous post, these Mums have developed "sports" in amazing varieties and forms! The mutations are as luscious as the original plants.
And the colorful foliage is as pretty as the flowers.
The pollinators love 'em.
The grouping looks like a planned collection of mixed varieties--but it's truly pure chance!
I'm not featuring these Mums as "plant of the month" because I have no idea what variety they are, and of course with the sports, that's even more uncertain.
Since they pleased me so much this fall, maybe I'll have to take better care of them next year.
But, alas, I must confess that I do. One example is a grouping of Chrysanthemums I've sorely neglected since we moved here 13 years ago.
I know I'm supposed to pinch, divide, and winter-protect Mums, but...well...yeah, I've pretty much ignored them beyond a little watering and cutting back in the fall.
I don't know why. Maybe it's because I take them for granted and they've always survived. Or because they're so underappreciated by many gardeners (kind of like Hostas that way). Or because they flower when I'm spending most of my time inside reading books or preparing for the holidays.
OK, enough with the excuses! I'm just a poor Mum gardener!
So, it surprised me this year when I noticed how pretty they are--maybe the prettiest they've ever been. When we moved here, they were all bright yellow. The kind of sunny, perky color that you can't witness without smiling.
But as I reported in a previous post, these Mums have developed "sports" in amazing varieties and forms! The mutations are as luscious as the original plants.
And the colorful foliage is as pretty as the flowers.
The pollinators love 'em.
The grouping looks like a planned collection of mixed varieties--but it's truly pure chance!
I'm not featuring these Mums as "plant of the month" because I have no idea what variety they are, and of course with the sports, that's even more uncertain.
Since they pleased me so much this fall, maybe I'll have to take better care of them next year.
October 26, 2012
When life gives you Oak leaves...
Sometimes the events, people, and happenings of life--like ordinary Oak leaves--scatter uncontrollably in a messy, unkempt mass.
Other times, as we attempt to take control, life appears a little more orderly and predictable.
But do any of us really have any control over either the big picture...
or the details?
To make sense of the whole big mess,
sometimes it helps to slow down,
and separate life's elements into smaller pieces.
Because examining life's memories one by one can be a rewarding, clarifying, and satisfying endeavor.
Each day, hour, and moment has its own beauty and its own flaws.
Even the imperfections, themselves, are striking. And they can point us in exciting new directions.
Often, the splashy, dazzling, seemingly "important" parts of life...
in retrospect, aren't nearly as treasured as simple memories with our closest loved-ones.
The most mundane events of life--like unassuming, brown Oak leaves--are worth examining more closely for their greater meanings and their under-appreciated beauty.
Most of all, a satisfying life goes beyond a big rush to put everything in neat piles and take control.
Because quite often, just when we think we have it all solved, controlled, and figured out, the next day or the next big gust of wind blows our orderly plan into a messy, unkempt mass once again.
Time to surrender...
and delight in the unexpected, simple moments of grace.
* * * * * *
Today is the second anniversary of PlantPostings' existence. I recently received a solicitation suggesting I could "breathe new life into the content" I created for my "old blog." Is a two-year-old blog an "old blog"? Have any of you received this same solicitation? Perhaps it's a good topic for a future post.
(Note: After reading some of your comments, I must add a disclaimer that my research leads me to believe the solicitation is an honest attempt to try a new platform. I was just curious about the funny wording. I wasn't really offended, just curious.)
(Note: After reading some of your comments, I must add a disclaimer that my research leads me to believe the solicitation is an honest attempt to try a new platform. I was just curious about the funny wording. I wasn't really offended, just curious.)
But today I'm kicking up my heels and toasting two years of interacting with so many truly incredible bloggers and gardeners. Cheers! And thank you most warmly!
October 22, 2012
Plant of the month: Sedum kamtschaticum
My garden is a mess. Or perhaps a gentler way to describe it is that it's in a very "naturalistic" stage.
We spent the weekend raking piles of (mostly) Oak leaves and hauling them into the woods to decompose. Unfortunately Oak trees have an annoying tendency to drop their leaves in stages. The ground is littered again, and some of the leaves won't drop until winter. After years of Octobers and Novembers, I've come to accept that the garden won't look tidy again until springtime.
One plant that still looks presentable is Sedum kamtschaticum, sometimes known by the common names Gold Sedum, Trailing Sedum, Low Stonecrop, or Orange Stonecrop. I can't remember how I got started with this plant, but I certainly found the perfect spot for it--growing in cracks between boulders in a stone wall.
How do plants grow in such places?
While it certainly is not currently at its best, Gold Sedum is among the few plants in my garden that aren't dormant, dead, or scraggly. In addition to the fact that this cultivar grows well on, and gives character to, the stone wall, it also helps to reduce erosion. It doesn't seem to repel the chipmunks, but I think it slows down their digging.
Here are some facts about Gold Sedum from two main sources--the Missouri Botanical Garden and North Carolina State University:
In my personal experience, this Sedum cultivar grows well on a north-facing slope that receives some morning and afternoon sun. I often transplant sprigs of it on a whim--simply lifting (by the roots) sections that seem overcrowded, and placing them in bare spots along the wall. They transplant well with next to no care.
When in bloom, they add bursts of color along the gray wall.
When the flowers fade, the fruits are nearly as interesting with their star-shaped clusters.
And the succulent foliage looks delightful during three seasons...especially when coated with raindrops or dew.
We spent the weekend raking piles of (mostly) Oak leaves and hauling them into the woods to decompose. Unfortunately Oak trees have an annoying tendency to drop their leaves in stages. The ground is littered again, and some of the leaves won't drop until winter. After years of Octobers and Novembers, I've come to accept that the garden won't look tidy again until springtime.
One plant that still looks presentable is Sedum kamtschaticum, sometimes known by the common names Gold Sedum, Trailing Sedum, Low Stonecrop, or Orange Stonecrop. I can't remember how I got started with this plant, but I certainly found the perfect spot for it--growing in cracks between boulders in a stone wall.
How do plants grow in such places?
While it certainly is not currently at its best, Gold Sedum is among the few plants in my garden that aren't dormant, dead, or scraggly. In addition to the fact that this cultivar grows well on, and gives character to, the stone wall, it also helps to reduce erosion. It doesn't seem to repel the chipmunks, but I think it slows down their digging.
Here are some facts about Gold Sedum from two main sources--the Missouri Botanical Garden and North Carolina State University:
- Plant hardiness: zones 3 to 9;
- Lighting preference: full sun to partial shade;
- Soil conditions: tolerates poor soils, but prefers well-drained, moist soils;
- Water requirements: drought-tolerant succulent;
- Bloom time: late spring in northern climates;
- Colors: Bright, golden flowers and bright green foliage that turns reddish in late fall.
In my personal experience, this Sedum cultivar grows well on a north-facing slope that receives some morning and afternoon sun. I often transplant sprigs of it on a whim--simply lifting (by the roots) sections that seem overcrowded, and placing them in bare spots along the wall. They transplant well with next to no care.
When in bloom, they add bursts of color along the gray wall.
When the flowers fade, the fruits are nearly as interesting with their star-shaped clusters.
And the succulent foliage looks delightful during three seasons...especially when coated with raindrops or dew.