Plant of the month: Viola sororia

Or is it V. papilionacea? Apparently, either is correct (see the USDA classification and the comments on this post for more information). We're talking about the common Wood Violet here.



Now I realize this plant is one of the most common in North America, and it's considered by many to be a weed. But at this point, I can't wait to see the bright periwinkle blooms and lush green, heart-shaped leaves of this ubiquitous plant.



Also, part of the reason I'm keeping this blog and highlighting "plants of the month" is to document the plants that grow here...even if they have "issues."



In my garden, the Wood Violet isn't terribly invasive, although it is plentiful--especially at the edge of the woods.



The Wood Violet:

• Is the state flower of several U.S. states, including Wisconsin;
• Blooms here in mid-spring;
• Spreads by vigorous runners and seeds;
• Is a common flower featured in myths, paintings, and literature.

The American Violet Society offers a wealth of information about all types Violets. What I find most fascinating is the section about Native American folkloric, medicinal, and nutritional uses for Violets. For example, did you know that the Blackfoot used an infusion of Violet roots and leaves to treat asthma, or that the Cherokee soaked corn seeds in a solution made from Violet root to repel insects?



Plus, just looking at the tiny blooms improves my mood!

(Linking in with Dozens for Diana at Elephant's Eye on False Bay.)

Dancing on a winter breeze

Keeping the "No Winter Whining" meme in mind...

The other day, as I braced myself against the bitter cold and secretly cursed the snow and ice, I was in a crabby place.

Another day of winter!

After briefly heading outside to retrieve the mail, I turned back toward the house.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a solitary Oak leaf dancing on a gentle breeze from somewhere on high. It wasn't a quick drop, but rather one of those graceful, ballet-like movements--floating here and there, and seemingly travelling in slow motion. Kind of like the feather in the movie, "Forrest Gump."

All around me were snow and gray and lack of life.

And then, that Oak leaf--dead, yes, yet full of life bouncing on that gentle breeze--twisted and flipped and floated slowly toward the ground.

A simple thing--and of course no major meaning to it--but it reminded me that warm breezes, colorful blooms, and new life are just around the corner.

And the Oak leaf will still be there, supporting the next generation.

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The theme for this last installment if No Winter Whining is "What I Love About Winter." I guess my favorite thing is the time it gives me to pause, reflect, and plan for the next growing season. Check out the other entries on Heather's blog!

Dreaming of Camellias

It's an interesting aspect of the human condition that we tend to desire most the things that are just beyond our reach...especially when those things are highly desirable to start with.

When we're talking plants and gardeners, the effects can be particularly powerful.

Here's the thing. My garden is located in the northern Midwest, in USDA zone 5. I like Camellias. Dang. They're hardy in zones 6 to 9. So I'm stuck drooling over them whenever I see them during my travels, or on other gardeners' blogs.





"But wait," you say. "There are a few cold-hardy varieties."

I wouldn't have really registered that thought until I found a few encouraging articles from:

• The Southeastern Camellia Society, and
• An eHow article about growing Camellias in Wisconsin.

The latter source makes the case for a particular group of Camellias--Winter's Charm, Winter's Beauty, and Winter's Star--rated to -15 F, which is about as cold as we get here. Carolyn at Carolyn's Shade Gardens also recently featured some excellent posts about cold-hardy Camellias.

But just because it's "possible" to do something, doesn't mean a person should. Just because I covet my southern neighbors' Camellia bounty doesn't mean I should try to push the zones and grow one here. Or should I try it? The warm microclimate near the rock wall would be near perfect for a Camellia, right?

What do you think? Should I be content to enjoy Camellias from afar, or should I act on my Camellia dreams?





(Note: The Camellias shown here, to my knowledge, are not cold-hardy. For more information on cold-hardy Camellias, visit Carolyn's blog or the U.S. National Arboretum website.)

Good news about the goldfish

Back in August, I reported on how the fishman had constructed an above-ground pond and stocked it with plants and goldfish. As winter approached, he trimmed the waterlily, inserted PVC pipes for the fish, and inserted a de-icer to keep the pond from freezing. He also slowly weaned the fish off food to prepare them for "hibernation."

I'm happy to share that the goldfish are still alive--even after three months of below-freezing temperatures, and several nighttime lows below 0 F (-18 C). The de-icer is doing its job.

Here's what the pond looked like after our first big snowfall in December:



Brrrr...

The fishman occasionally checks on the fish, and on one recent occasion I snapped a quick shot when he opened the lid. We didn't want to keep it open very long, so I didn't get a very good capture. But you can see that the water, on this particular day, was completely unfrozen. And the fish appear to be using the PVC pipes for shelter:



A few days ago, he reported there was a thin layer of ice on top of the water. But apparently, if there's even a small bit of open water, they'll be fine. The goldfish go into a sort of torpor, and survive for months without food.

Today, the fishman checked again. While the outdoor air temperature was 18 F
(-8 C), the water temperature was 54 F (12 C), and the fish were swimming around. It appears his techniques are working. The de-icer; our bright, sunny days; and the greenhouse effect of the clear, insulating lid are keeping the water plenty warm. Here's what the pond looked like on a recent sunny day:



Next, the trick will be deciding when to start feeding again, and when to remove the insulating lid. Obviously, those decisions are many weeks into the future.