"At last the truth dawns on us: autumn is stealing into town....Soon the leaves will start cringing and roll up in clenched fists before they actually fall off....But first there will be weeks of hypnotic colors so sensuous, shrieking, and confetti-like that people will travel for many miles just to stare at them -- a whole season of jeweled leaves."

--Diane Ackerman, Cultivating Delight

What's The Story, Morning Glory?

"My garden...was of precisely the right extent. An hour or two of morning labor was all that it required. But I used to visit and revisit it a dozen times a day."

--Nathaniel Hawthorne

The weather has been so glorious that I have been spending at least 2 hours in the yard per day (what was I doing with that time before??); it's so nice going to bed being really physically tired, muscles aching -- and sleeping like a champ. The last week or so most of my time has been spent doing a few chores, exercises in tedium, but great thinking time.

First, I tended the strawberry patch. I had read that you should clip all the little stems that connect one clump to another, that each clump should only have about five stems growing from it. This strawberry patch was already here when we moved in, and I assure you that this exercise has never been done. So I painstakingly clipped all the extra tiny stems and made sure each clump was independent of its neighbor. We usually get about 6 - 8 pints of berries from this patch; I'm curious to see how different the crop is this year.

Secondly, the large area that we have spent 2 years clearing of blackberries (with thorns by the way), and honeysuckle is now quickly growing weeds. I figure we got rid of Layer 1: I have only had to pull up 1 or 2 blackberry vines this year. Layer 2 has appeared: Morning Glory vine, possibly some wildflowers, and a large weed that looks like something we used to call "skunk cabbage" when I was growing up, but it doesn't smell bad. It is growing out of a tuber and the stem is pretty fragile so I didn't get to the root of much of these. However, the good news is that Layer 3 is beginning to appear: grass.

In the meantime, the tulips and daffodils are done and I have finished tying up all the daffodils. There was a big variety this year, more flowers keep popping up in areas that I've cleaned up. Some of these guys are pictured up top. The tulips are such a lesson in symmetry. These blooms would slowly open up during the day, close at night like little origami boxes.

Solomon's Seal

"One way I cultivate delight is to abandon myself to individual sensations, savoring them until they vanish. A garden pleases all the senses, including the kinesthetic sense of moving through space. For example, smelling a peony's blossoms until the nose quits from the sheer abundance of scent. In that moment, the universe -- from the dirt below one's feet clear out to the farthest stars, and beyond that in time back to the Big Bang -- all of it vanishes. Nothing exists but the citrusy smell of one peony. How long can I hold the sensation in my mind before it evaporates? I don't care. I cultivate delight."

--Diane Ackerman, Cultivating Delight

The Solomon's Seal is up. I had never seen this versatile plant until I moved here, now I see it at nurseries occasionally, surprisingly more expensive than I'd imagine. But worth it I suppose. Fortunately for me, it was already here, in 3 places and 2 varieties. I've been moving it to other places too. It transfers so easily, comes early and stays green for months, and looks great cut in vases. Interesting how it starts out as a little red bud peeking through the earth, like a peony. Each year, I think, What is that? Then I see it everywhere and remember. I have it in shady areas and sunny areas, it seems generally agreeable with anything. One version I have is tall, about 1 1/2" - 2', so it's a nice plant to put in the back or against a fence. Delicate little white pods appear, not quite little flowers, and also last a few weeks.

I am always amazed that you can take one little plant, and how quickly it multiplies itself over and over again. I have given away so much Solomon's Seal, but you'd never know it, it's so prolific. One of the lilies I planted last year has become 6 this year, what gifts nature gives us!

Here is the Solomon's Seal as it began to emerge, and after it's up.

More March Madness

"miracles are to come."

--e.e. cummings

It's incredible how fast things grow now. I see something start to appear one day, it rains, and the next day the plant is two inches higher. My little Japanese irises are preparing to explode, and a yellow and red primrose is blooming, I don't remember planting. The dainty yellow march (marsh?) marigold has been in bloom for about a month. I got a little bit from my mother a few years ago, similarly this euphorbia/spurge. I pulled up a bit with some roots, put it in the ground and now it's going crazy. I am starting to see euphorbia at a lot of nurseries and I don't remember seeing it before, but maybe it just wasn't on my radar. The color is so nice -- the top becomes a beautiful chartreuse. I have 3 kinds now, each a little bigger than the next. It stays green all season and is a great filler plant. I have actually transferred it to several places in the yard, have to be careful to not let it take over.

"What would become of the garden

if the gardener treated all the weeds

and slugs and birds and trespassers

as he would like to be treated,

if he were in their place?"

--T.H. Huxley

My gardening this year actually began before March 1st. We had three major snowstorms this winter, very unusual for Richmond. I love the four seasons, love the snow, and try to enjoy each time period for what it offers. That being said, there was something sneaky and extravagant about watching the blizzard outside and being inside looking to spring. With each snowstorm I ordered more plants. I loved dreaming about all of the little gifts I had coming in, little pops of color and fragrance, while the outside remained cold and dreary.

Before spring arrives and the garden starts to wake up a little, a lot of restraint has to be shown, in case any warm days are just a fluke. One of the first things I knew I could safely do was to cut back all of my roses. We installed Knock Outs in the front of the house two falls ago and I have slowly been adding roses here and there to make a rose garden up front. I have ordered a few, bought a few, and transferred a few from other places in the yard. I think there are about 11 now. It reminds me of my grandmother, ZouZou, who had a large rose garden outside her kitchen. She would wrap newspapers around them and add lots of food bits to fertilize them. Mine, I gave them some rose food, will add some epsom salts (makes their leaves shiny), and eggshells from time to time.

I cut the roses way back and was briefly worried about what I had done, but now, a few weeks later, they are sprouting all kinds of leaves and new growth. A friend told me years ago that most gardeners keep up with the names of their roses, so I am trying to figure out a way to put their names by them permanently. I tried writing with a sharpie on old pottery shards but over time, it washed off. I have ordered my few roses here and there included with my other orders from Dutch Gardens, but I think the premiere place to order roses is David Austin. There are so many varieties offered, how do you choose -- by the color of the rose or its name? Some of mine include "Maria Stern", "Arctic Flame", and "Apricot Princess". I love these other names: "Stars and Stripes", "Wild Blue Yonder", "Happy Happy", "Welcome Home" and "Dream Come True". Below is one of my roses, the way it looks now and what it looked like shortly after pruning.

Here Come The Peonies!

"People pull up in cars, get out, stand and stare. Nothing need be said. We all understand the visual nourishment we share.

--Diane Ackerman, Cultivating Delight

I'm in a frenzy nowadays. Everything is popping, blooming, exploding in color. Daffodils going crazy, redbuds laden with pink buds (did you know you can eat them?), tulip magnolias unbelievable -- I have to order one --, tulips of all colors opening up, forsythia, japonica, azaleas -- Mother Nature sounded the horn and the world is waking up! I have been fortunate to be home for the last two days and do little else than work in the garden (while 4 boys were having a playdate all over the back yard). I have planted (2 nursery trips in the last 2 days...), transferred, divided, planned, cleared, inspected new things coming up. Here come the peonies!

If you haven't read any Diane Ackerman (see quote above) then rush theeself to find something of hers. She is an anthropologist, sociologist, poet. She has the most beautiful way of expressing words I've ever known. She wrote a great book, Cultivating Delight, that is sort of my gardening Bible. She describes her garden and the different critters in it, in detail, over the course of a year. I have read it several times and leave it near a reading chair, where I pick it up when I have a few minutes to indulge myself. She's written a lot of other great books also.

"But by early June the southwest monsoon breaks and there are three months of wind and water with short spells of sharp, glittering sunshine that thrilled children snatch to play with. The countryside turns an immodest green. Boundaries blue as tapioca fences take root and bloom. Brick walls turn moss green. Pepper vines snake up electric poles. Wild creepers burst through laterite banks and spill across flooded roads..."

--Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

A huge storm last night with enough thunder to keep the dog up all night. Getting up this morning, more reminders of our low water table, with areas all around the yard flooded, under water. Luckily we didn't put the vegetable seeds in yet. We have just finished clearing two fairly large new areas under some large trees. We hung a hammock there last year, it's nice and shady, and yesterday I transferred a bunch of hostas to under the trees. When we moved here there was a long border of hostas planted in full sun, that by mid-summer look burned and half dead. I have slowly moved them to areas they will be happier, shady areas, and have two large clumps left to move. I don't absolutely love hostas, but they are sure handy to fill in shady open areas, spread quickly, and you can practically throw them on the ground and they will take off.

With the rain still coming down, no gardening outside today -- will tend to the seeds my 4 year old and I planted inside a few weeks ago. He picked them out according to the picture on the packet, most of them annuals. I also planted some lupine, zinnias, pastel daisies, black eyed Susan vine. Plants do really well on the east facing radiator in our bedroom, we have great light, but I've noticed the ones in the south facing window look even better.

A friend came by yesterday and asked for a "tour" of the garden, and as we walked around, there is evidence of a lot, but I realize I have a much clearer view of what different areas will look like, at least in my mind. It might take another 10 years to get things where I want them; have been thinking of doing some paintings to show what the areas already look like IN MY HEAD.

The photos here are of one of these newly cleared areas, a blank canvas.