January 13, 2015

Plant of the Month: Agastache foeniculum

potpourri

As we move through the depths of winter, many of us treasure tangible reminders of the garden's plenty. Dried seed heads and flowers, including the Anise Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum) in my potpourri bowl, fulfill this purpose.

snow depth

Outdoors, the plants (and the picnic table) are coated with a few inches of fluffy, white snow--just enough to keep the landscape fresh and sparkly. We awoke this morning to a new dance of gently falling snowflakes ...

snowflakes

Those huge, puffy flakes that are so large you can easily see how each one is different from the next, and the air between them creates depths of beneficial insulation. (Did you know that fresh, uncompacted snow typically is 90% to 95% trapped air?)

As I contemplate the perennials under their winter blanket and smell the licorice/mint scent of my potpourri, I remember how beautiful, fragrant, and soft the Anise Hyssop was during the growing season.

flowers

It was a perfect partner to the Rudbeckias, Echinaceas, and Calaminthas in the pollinator garden I helped establish as a master naturalist volunteer project.

hyssop

Each flower stalk was fluffy and soft as a cat's tail.

bumble

Pollinators like this bumble bee ...

hyssop pollinator

And this Goldenrod Soldier Beetle found it irresistible.

hyssop post

I liked the way it wrapped around and hugged the fence posts. Very romantic.

golden1

While the straight-species seeds I winter sowed last year didn't germinate in my garden, I did have luck with small seedling plants of A. foeniculum 'Golden Jubilee.' I'll try the straight species again this spring, but in the meantime, I sure enjoyed the pretty flower spikes and the bright, chartreuse color of the cultivar's foliage.

golden2

As the days progressed, the flowers gained character. I snipped them to encourage new blooms and, although that didn't pay off with my young plants, I'm happy I saved the flowers for my potpourri. The scent became even more concentrated as they dried.

late autumn

At the end of the season, when very few plants were still flowering, the Anise Hyssop was still blooming away--a great companion to late-season Goldenrod (Solidago rugosa), and other fall bloomers.

I didn't realize until recently that both the flowers and the foliage of Anise Hyssop are edible. Other fast facts, based on information from the Missouri Botanical Garden, the USDA, and the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center:

  • Native to a large portion of the northern U.S., the Appalacians, and Canada;
  • Height: 2 ft. to 4 ft. (a little shorter for some of the cultivars), with a similar spread;
  • Hardy: zones 4 to 8 (a little warmer for some of the cultivars);
  • Bloom time: late June to hard frost (in my experience here in Southern Wisconsin);
  • Light requirements: Full sun to part shade (bigger flower spikes in full sun; foliage of 'Golden Jubilee' remains more vibrant in partial shade);
  • Attracts butterflies, beetles, bees, and hummingbirds, and is of special value to native bees and honey bees, according to the Xerces Society;
  • Flower spikes provide form, texture, and color to fresh and dried floral arrangements;
  • Tolerates drought, but prefers average to moist, well-drained soil.

All I know is that I like it, I don't know why I didn't have it in my garden until recently, and I'm looking forward to seeing it bloom again!

hyssop and susans

January 05, 2015

A Misty, Mysterious Hike

trail

About a month ago, on a mild day, the fishman and I took a hike not far from our house.

Most of the snow from November had melted--leaving the trails slightly muddy and soft with autumn leaves ... although firm enough for an easy walk.

train

The park where we hiked is a familiar place, which I've featured on the blog many times. On this day, however, it seemed eerily different. A thick layer of fog shrouded everything in a mysterious haze, which was pleasing in its own way.

foggy trees

The fishman started out ahead of me, and called my attention to two raptors, high up in the trees ahead of us.

eagles

eagles2

eagles3

As we approached, the fog lifted a touch. The fishman thought perhaps the birds were juvenile bald eagles.

eagle fly

They flew away before I could zoom in. Drat. Still, it was fun to see them--even from a distance through the mist.

critter home

As we started along the trail, we found this hole at the base of a gnarled old tree. It had me wondering who lived there.

dogwood

Dogwoods (Cornus sericea) were plentiful, lending accents of deep red to the bleak landscape.

dew

And dropping fresh dew on this magical, misty day.

sedge

false rue anemone

Several evergreen plants poked through the soil--including sedges, mosses, and False Rue Anemone (Enemion biternatum)--reminders of new life waiting patiently for the next season.

lake3

But the most dramatic scenes were those overlooking the lake, where the ice, land, and sky blended cooperatively to confuse the eye.

lake2

lake1

(This post is linked to Michelle's "Nature Notes" at her blog, Rambling Woods.)

December 29, 2014

Twelve of My Favorite Things (2014)

At the end of last year, I started a personal tradition. I've always had a habit of "wishing away" the winter and a bit of trouble adjusting to some seasonal transitions.

So, at the end of December 2013, I created a list of favorite things for each month to help me live in the present and appreciate each season in its time. Did the list help?

Yes! As the days rolled along, I found myself thinking about my "favorites" and enjoying simple magical moments.

I've decided to make it an annual tradition. For each month, I've identified a favorite nature-related "thing." Here are my reminders for the year ahead:

January

The long shadows of the Oak trees on the back garden can be mesmerizing. This effect is particularly dramatic on bright, sunny days after fresh snowfalls. I don't even have to go outside in the cold to see this!

February

New buds on the Cyclamen are almost as pretty as the blooms, themselves. This photo is from last February. I'll be curious to see if, and when, it blooms again this year.

March

Like any gardener, I'm thrilled to see the first shoots of spring-flowering bulb plants as welcome signs of new life. Some years these appear earlier, so mulch and snow help to protect them from the cold.

April

Some Cedar Waxwings are with us year-round, but they seem to gather in great groups and sing their high-pitched songs in great exuberance during the first mild days of spring. They're always a joy to see and hear!

May

There are so many plants and events to enjoy in May. My problem is less about finding a favorite thing than narrowing it down to one. But finding spring ephemerals, like Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) shown here, is an all-time favorite activity.

June

June is a prime hiking month in Wisconsin. I enjoy discovering native plants along the trails, like Pussytoes (Antennaria neglecta).

July

Wildflowers at the cottage are plentiful in July. Shown here: Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annuus) and Spotted Beebalm (Monarda punctata). Both are pollinator favorites.

August

If I'm lucky, I'll find a Monarch caterpillar in my garden. Luckier still--to see it transform into an adult butterfly and nectar on my garden's flowers.

September

Nothing says "September" like regal Sunflowers (Helianthus spp.). When I saw these blooms reaching for the hazy sun during a late-summer hike, I knew this memory would supply warmth during the cold winter months. I believe this plant is either H. decapetalus or H. tuberosus.

October

Maple leaves in warm reds, oranges, and yellows make October in Wisconsin a truly stunning place. If you enjoy autumn foliage, this is a great destination for an October trip.

November

Most years, November is a grey, brown, misty month here. But it's still a great time for hiking. The temperatures aren't too cold (usually) and the leaves form a soft cushion on the trails. Several new trails are opening near my home, and I can't wait to explore them!

December

What's more fascinating than a simple seed head? (Said the plant nerd.) This one, from Clematis 'Nelly Moser,' looks soft enough for a bird's nest and pretty enough for a decorative pin. I enjoy photographing seed heads on milder December days.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

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'll find many simple "favorite things" and gifts that will bring you much joy.

Happy New Year!