Tag Archives: pink

Itsy Bitsy Spider

11 Oct

This is the story of a small spider in my garden. It being a cloudy and rainy morning, I grabbed my camera and headed for the yard. When it’s wet outside, colors pop and raindrops pearl on flowers and foliage—a gorgeous sight. But I only got as far as the sole remaining bloom on a Hybrid Tea Rose “Perfume Delight,” because I discovered that a small but industrious spider had established a new home there.


For perspective, see the lone bloom below (amid some Montauk Daisies), and a close-up of the spider on it.

Rose 1  
It’s hard to see, but for a good part of the morning, that spider was busy making silk threads; the first photo below shows a thread at top left, and the other is a not-very good photo of the spider spinning  (I managed to focus on the thread and a few rain drops, but alas, not on the spider…).

    spider4
That rose bloom wasn’t there a couple weeks ago. The spider could only have happened upon it recently, not knowing it had chosen an ever-evolving and ultimately doomed home. Even in the few hours between this morning and this afternoon, the rose bloom unfurled a bit more, breaking some of the spider’s newly spun threads. In a couple weeks, the bloom won’t be there at all. And yet, the spider remains, a Don Quixote in disguise.

Troopers in the Autumn Garden

23 Nov

I have sadly neglected the garden. I’d like to blame it on work and family obligations, but the real reason is that I find the autumn clean-up far less satisfying than the spring clean-up. In the spring, when I gather up the detritus from winter, I am delighted to see tiny new shoots pushing through the earth underneath. I love seeing new buds unfurling. The atmosphere in the garden is of one of eager anticipation. The prep work then is like priming a canvas before painting in order to set the stage for a masterpiece to emerge. It is a fantasy, I admit–but in June, when viewed at just the right angle in just the right light by someone who is squinting slightly, the garden does look somewhat like an Impressionist work of art.

In the autumn, the garden is a much sorrier sight (well, my garden is). And the clean-up then feels more like chore than delight. But there is no camouflage in the winter, so if anything, making sure the garden looks neat and tidy is even more important. So what did I do today? Did I spend hours pruning, deadheading, weeding, or transplanting? No, I procrastinated–I took photos of the few remaining spots of color and bits of interest, telling myself tomorrow is another day.

Here are a few autumnal troopers: Echinacea ‘Southern Belle,’ a Montauk Daisy featuring a slightly lethargic bee, and Hidcote Lavender. Plus, something to look forward to: buds on Witch Hazel ‘Birgit,’ ready to burst forth very early next year for some welcome late-winter color.

   

Photo of the Month: June 2013 (Echinacea Ruby Star)

30 Jun

An Echinacea (Ruby Star), petals just beginning to open–in soft focus.

Postcard from Montpellier, France: Jardin des Plantes

10 Jun

The second leg of my work trip involved going to Montpellier, France for another round of meetings. I headed there straight from Senegal, which meant I arrived a bit early and could do some sightseeing. Montpellier has many lovely things to see, but I had to prioritize. And truthfully, my heart was set on one main attraction: the Jardin des Plantes–France’s oldest botanic garden, established in 1593 by King Henry IV and managed by the University of Montpellier. Armed with a bottle of water and my camera, I explored every inch of the Garden, spending almost 5 hours there; in fact, I was the first person to arrive that morning. It was so peaceful and beautiful (and a very welcome change from sitting in meetings all day). As the day wore on, people arrived to picnic on grassy areas, read books in shady nooks, and wander around admiring the plants–all in an environment that seemed far removed from the normal bustle of Montpellier life.

Here are a few sights from the Jardin des Plantes: the Garden’s arches, benches, staircases, and pathways; the famous Wish Tree (a phylliria) where lovers leave messages; and a few other plants (a pink Cistus, a spiky Agave stricta Salm-Dyck, and a close-up of the polka-dotted Opuntia microdasys cactus).

 
    
 
   

In the Blink of an Eye

8 Jun

At this time of year, every day brings some new development in the garden. You take each change into account, bit by bit. But when you are away for an extended time, as I was recently for work, you come back and feel that those changes occurred far too quickly–how did that peony bloom in such a short time? Where did that red-hot poker come from?

All this was driven home to me yesterday, when my youngest son graduated from high school. How did that happen so quickly? Now, like his two brothers before him, he will follow his own path, and we will no longer see those day-to-day changes. But we will continue to admire the growth and the blooming. Luckily, our daughter is still at home for one more year. And the garden will remain, though it, too, undergoes constant and rapid metamorphoses.

Before I left for my two-week trip, the brand-new peonies I had planted were only in bud; when I returned, the blooms were already spent. I never did see what the full flowers looked like–I will have to save that treat for next year.

Peony (Kansas)
 
The new roses I had planted last month were also just beginning to bud, but since they bloom for months, I was able to see the flowers when I got back.

Hybrid Tea Rose (Love and Peace)
 
And finally, I caught the Red Hot Pokers just in time; now, their color is fading and the flower spikes are drying up. Here is one seen from above and in full bloom.

Red Hot Poker (Flamenco)