This post is SO yesterday

I can't keep up. As soon as I snap a photo, it's out of date. Things are changing moment by moment in the garden now.

As I've glanced out the window and passed by at various points during the past few days, the Shagbark Hickory buds have opened before my eyes.





Pretty dramatic, huh?! And that last photo is now out of date.

Other captures that are seriously passé:


The Lilies-of-the-Valley are now starting to bloom.


The Hyacinths are a pleasant memory.


The Hellebores are still lovely, but fading.


The Sedums are larger and spreading.


And these Redbud branches, captured at dusk last night, are just about to burst into their full glory.

I surrender. I'm taking a bit of a break from posting. In the meantime, I'll be visiting other blogs and snapping a few photos. Otherwise, you can find me in the garden. I'm way behind on chores ... and way behind on taking it all in and living in the moment. The moments are passing way too fast!

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As some of you are aware, I'm teaming up with Viaggi di Gusto to plan an Italy Garden Tour for you in mid- to late June 2014. This trip is open to anyone who's interested, with a specific focus on gardens in central and northern Italy. We're planning to visit Rome, the Garden of Ninfa, and Boboli Gardens, among many other exciting destinations!

If you've already requested it, you're on the email list and you'll continue to receive trip updates. If you'd like to join the list to stay informed, please email a request at plantpostings[at]gmail[dot]com. Ciao!

Wordless emerging ephemerals

Sanguinaria canadensis

Enemion biternatum

Claytonia virginica

Trillium erectum

Podophyllum peltatum

My 40-hour sojourn in Milwaukee

Last week, I began training to become a Wisconsin Master Naturalist volunteer. Over the course of the next several weeks, our group will complete 40 hours of training in natural history, interpretation, and conservation stewardship.

Since the program is new in Wisconsin, we're the first group in the state to be officially certified!

What does that have to do with a "sojourn in Milwaukee"? The training is held at the Wehr Nature Center, in southwestern Milwaukee County. It's a lovely 220-acre property, with more than five miles of trails linking the center's five natural communities: woodland, wetland, prairie, Oak savanna, and lake.

At our class this week, as we explored the forest, I found myself thinking about different types of forests, and how they can feel welcoming and intimidating at the same time.

Related to this thought, back in January I decided to write at least one post a month that includes a nod to John Muir. And when we went to Florida last month, I found myself thinking about Muir's "A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf." In it, Muir recounts his adventures and impressions of the back roads and trails he traveled on his way to Florida.


Though I'd been to the Sunshine State several times before, I'd never really "hiked" in a Florida forest until last month's trip. People warn you about alligators if you go too far off the beaten track, so we stuck to a trail in a planned community. (I didn't have my camera along, so photos shown here were taken at the Marie Selby Botanical Garden.)

The vegetation along our Florida forest hike was so different from any other forests I've experienced. Strange bird calls and unique animal sounds made me a little uneasy. And huge Philodendrons--the largest I've ever seen--covered the trunks and dangled from the branches of Live Oaks and other trees.


Muir had a similar impression: "Florida is so watery and vine-tied that pathless wanderings are not easily possible in any direction ... It is impossible to write the dimmest picture of plant grandeur so redundant, unfathomable ... Oftentimes, I was tangled in a labyrinth of armed vines like a fly in a spider-web."


As incredible as it is, a Florida forest can seem intimidating to a northerner.


But then, so can a northern forest--with all its seasonal changes--to someone from the south. And either type of forest might seem scary to a person who has rarely stepped foot in one. But a forest of any kind is an incredible resource.


The rich fertility of a forest offers some of the best opportunities to study incredibly diverse life forms.

I'm looking forward to more exploring in the Wehr Nature Center. As the weeks of training continue, I'll share some of the highlights.

Plant of the month: Tradescantia spathacea

Sometimes it's the people associated with a plant that make it dear to us.

When I was in college in Iowa, many years ago, I met an inspirational woman. The purpose of our introduction is unimportant here, but over the course of several months I visited her a few times. She was in her late 80s or early 90s, living alone, still gardening, cooking, and caring for her home and herself.



The first time I visited this independent senior--let's call her Mrs. C--I noticed this unique green and purple houseplant, with little bracts loaded with white blooms. I asked her what it was called, and she said "Moses-in-the-Bulrushes." On subsequent visits during mild weather, her window boxes on the front of her house were stuffed full of the Moses plant. Because of my interest, she gave me a cutting of the plant in a pot.

Though I was a college student (and terrible at keeping houseplants alive), the Moses plant managed to survive. In fact, it was quite healthy and I gave cuttings to friends and family members, including my mom.

At this point, all of the credit goes to her, because my Moses plant died or was discarded somewhere along the way. Over the years, my mother--who has a green thumb with indoor and outdoor plants--always had a pot full of the Moses plant.

Fast-forward to March 2013.



While visiting Mom in Florida last month, I noticed she had a Moses plant near a small fence in her front yard. Of course, this brought back memories of both Mom's house over the years, and Mrs. C.

After noticing the plant at Mom's place (and at Florida botanical gardens, where some of these photos were captured), I did a little research.



The plant's Latin name is Tradescantia spathacea (synonym Rhoeo spathacea), according to the USDA plants database. Common names, in addition to Moses-in-the-Bulrushes, include Boatlily, Oysterplant, Men-in-a-Boat, and numerous variations of "Moses-in... ."

Here's where things get a little tricky. The Moses plant--native to Mexico, Belize, and Guatemala, according to the Missouri Botanical Garden--is considered slightly invasive in parts of Florida and Louisiana. But it's a tropical plant and very sensitive to frost, so it doesn't survive as a perennial beyond zone 9.



For those who do plant it outside--during the summer or as a year-round perennial--it grows well in full sun or part shade. It's low-maintenance, evergreen, and spreads one to two feet wide and about one foot in height.

One warning: Dogs, in particular, seem sensitive to the Moses plant, according to several sources. Plant owners report that their dogs developed skin irritations after rolling in it.

If you keep it away from your dog (maybe on a shelf or in a window box outside), it's an excellent decorative plant, based on the experiences of Mrs. C and Mom.

What happened to Mrs. C? Unfortunately, I lost touch with her after I graduated all those years ago, and she has since passed on. But the Moses plant, which my mother has nurtured all these years, will always remind me of these two special women.