Azaleas! Dogwood! Dandelions?

There's nothing much more spectacular than a blooming azalea. Our red azalea insists on pouring through the patio railing, making certain we don't miss its glory, and to make sure we don't forget that it is the first of two dwarf bushes to bloom in the Spring. Then, about the time it starts looking a little tired, along comes lovely Miss Orange Azalea, not to be outdone. She pours out the other way, into the yard, where I have to surround her with bricks lest she get in the way of the mower (or the mower in her way, I should say!)
I wondered, when we first moved here, why the previous owners didn't plant two of the same variety. It's easy to understand now that having two of these lovelies guarantees a prolonged Springtime. They're both simply gorgeous, and we look forward to them every year.




Along about the same time of the year, and often close to Easter Sunday, the dogwood trees come into bloom, making splashes and clouds of white here and there through the woods and at the edges of fields. There is a legend about the shape and color of the blossoms. The dogwood has been "adopted" by the Christian religion as a symbol of the crucifixion of Christ. The legend says that a flowering dogwood tree was used to make the cross of the crucifixion and as a result it now grows as a living memory of the event. The cross is represented by the four petals; the petals' brownish marks represent the nails; the center of the flower sometimes resembles a crown. Take it or leave it, it's an interesting story.


And then, of course, there are the ubiquitous dandelions! This picture shows how obnoxious they can be, infiltrating themselves into areas where it is most difficult to dig them out without destroying something else. I still remember, though, how my children, when they were small, would pick handsful of dandelion blossoms and present them to me as a bouquet. A mom can't ever forget those dancing eyes and cute smiles. I'm certain the same tableau continues today with other moms and kids, because we've never found a permanent dandelion slayer... so that's a good thing.

Lessons from Mother Nature

Yesterday I pulled old electric-powered pathway lights and put in new solar-powered lights and got to thinking how we take for granted the changes in the seasons and the new growth in the spring, but in actuality it’s a mind-boggling transformation and a recurring miracle. I know for certain that springtime is invigorating to flowers, trees and humans alike. We have more energy; we make plans, plot gardens, start projects, do some spring cleaning; we’re inspired to dance to the music (as if no one is watching); we feel grateful for what feels like a reward for doing something great that we don’t remember doing.

We struggle along. Take a lesson from this poor little Japanese maple tree. It has been in the ground for six years and is still not quite three feet tall… a real slow-grower. I’ve babied it through several seasons, never being sure if it was going to leaf out again in the spring… but here it is again in all its glory. I really want that tree to grow right where it is, even though it does have wet feet most of the spring. There’s a lesson to be learned from its determination to grow where it’s planted.

Can you guess what this is? Looks a little like that poor, stunted tree. When it’s mature (which will happen within days), it will look totally different, and will support many very large, pink, many-petaled blooms right around Memorial Day. It’s surrounded by lilies-of-the-valley that spread in circumference every year. They’re all about to bloom… stay tuned. A lesson here? Even “ugly” has the potential to be beautiful… watch and learn… wait and see.

The Japanese maple could take a lesson from this blue fescue that has re-seeded itself from the border along the north side of the driveway into the driveway itself, growing up out of the gravel. Mike and I have guessed that maybe the ground is less acid there. Even so, it’s something of a miracle that anything other than a weed could take root in a driveway. It’s pretty there, though, so there it stays, and maybe it will continue to re-seed. I like this daring-to-be-different little guy.

Here’s an example of how unpredictable and contrary Mother Nature can be. This Washington Hawthorne tree has the most beautiful clusters of flowers in the spring, pink at first, gradually changing to white. The leaves are dense and the tree itself is quite beautiful. However! It has long thorns on the trunk and on the branches that make it very un-friendly. Also, the roots are shallow and insist on coming up through the ground, trying to make more thorny little trees. It’s a Washington Hawthorne, and I think it’s going to struggle to have its way, no matter what this human wants.

Life happens. Rejoice and be glad.

Planning the Planting

The only good thing about all the rain we've been getting lately is that the puddles show me which areas of the garden are especially in need of topsoil. As far as I know there aren't any vegetables that grow well in a bog! So, I slogged around the garden perimeter, walking off measurements in preparation for planting the garden on paper. That's the fun part.

It's not a very big garden, barely a small plot compared to the humongous garden we had at Lost River. Now THAT was a garden!

Double-dug soil, enhanced with compost and various organic fertilizers, terraced with two-foot-high rock ledges, and with grassy paths alongside each row. The vegetables were easily harvested from either side, and we never had to worry about compacting the soil because we had no need to walk on it. There was room for strawberries and asparagus and peas and beans and beets and corn and beans and tomatoes and lettuce and spinach and radishes and all sorts of herbs and flowers, as well as winter and summer squash, zucchini, cucumbers, carrots, onions, garlic, potatoes and yams...... It was a dawn to dark garden, that's for sure.

This year's garden is going to look like an old lady's hobby, which it is! I pulled out my old copy of Rodale's Herb Book and our battered, much used Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening today and set to work plotting it all out on paper. I'll buy five tomato plants and three green pepper plants. The rest will grow from seed, a little bit of this and a little bit of that, with flowers and herbs scattered throughout, partly for looks but mostly because there are plants that like and encourage and protect one another. That's why it's called "companion planting".

Basil and borage protect tomatoes against that ugly tomato hornworm. Marigolds and nasturtiums planted all over the garden deter many bugs. Green beans are happy around dill and savory. Cucs & squashes taste better interplanted with oregano and marjoram. Pyrethrum flowers protect beans and can be made into a very effective bug-killer spray. Green beans like garlic, too. Caraway protects radishes. Chives like carrots. There is absolutely no need to buy anything to kill the bugs, because they don't come around when you companion plant.

Truth time... I gave up on growing broccoli and cabbage and cauliflower because I never found anything that kept the worms out... Yuk! ...and I tried the entire spectrum of organic deterrents from mint to red pepper spray. I have to admit that there is no magic bullet, but companion planting works well for the most part, and it makes gardening kind of friendly and cozy, thinking about all these compatible little plants :D


I'll put in a packet of cosmos, too, because when I first experienced those lovely, free and airy blooms a couple years ago, it was like discovering I had a new best friend!

The Art (?) of Gardening

This clever and pretty little door hanger is going to experience some fairly heavy use this summer. My garden is going to be twice as large as last year, so this morning I was busy moving my compost piles and burning down an area of last year's leaves, small branches, clippings and garden trimmings. All last year I added to two compost piles on a regular basis; one of leftover food, eggshells and vegetable/fruit scrapings & peels; the other of yard waste, weeds, twigs, and spent flowers. Occasionally I sprinkled organic compost starter on the piles and watered them down. Probably I should have turned them on a regular basis, but the starter instructions said that wasn't necessary.

When I went after the finished compost at the bottom of the piles, I was glad to find about four bushels of rich, crumbly, dry stuff that was ready to be spread, and another couple bushels of not quite done compost that makes a good start for this year's piles. It is so easy to make good compost; if done correctly they are never odiferous; there is no cost and very little effort involved. Now if you want fast-acting, nitrogen-rich compost, you will have to ask a neighbor who has chickens or goats to donate some animal waste to add to your compost pile. We had large, steaming compost piles when we lived on the "farm" at Lost River, because we had both chickens and goats.

I'm going to get some topsoil in a day or so to add to my raised beds, and then beg, borrow or steal a tiller. Then it will be time to buy plants and seeds. Because I love flowers, there will be flowers galore, and because I like to use fresh herbs when cooking, they will have a place in my garden as well. Maybe my next entry will be about companion planting (and no, that doesn't mean my companion will help with the planting. Stay tuned!

Generosity

American Heritage Dictionary: “1. willing to give or share; munificent; unselfish 2. Lacking pettiness or meanness in thought or behavior; magnanimous”

Roget’s Thesaurus: Giving; magnanimous; tolerant; forgiving; benevolent; openhanded; bighearted

So, what does it really mean to demonstrate generosity? I believe that to describe someone as “generous” we are attributing to them all of the above qualities, for if you have ever known a truly generous person, you realize that you are in the presence of someone very special. Their hearts and hands are open; they do not judge; they are kind. They’re neither meek nor weak; they simply show true generosity of heart and spirit at every turn… and in their presence, I am in awe, and feel the lack of their qualities and the desire to develop them. They make it look easy, and maybe it is easy for them, maybe some people are simply born that way, but I tend to think that it takes a lifetime of trying and learning to give freely, to care and to share. Like many other things, it is an ideal for us all to strive for, and whether we reach it or not, it’s the trying that counts.

A very generous person opened her heart to me recently, and I am the lucky recipient of some concrete results of her magnanimity. She didn’t think it was any big deal, but that’s probably because humility is yet another quality of a truly generous person. Because of her I now have reading material that should last me five years… and I have three wonderful, matching, brand new storage chests… and I have a milk pitcher that matches perfectly with a cookie jar that I’ve had forever… and I have a wonderful antique yardstick that still has the original metal ends on it… and on and on. There’s no way you can adequately thank a person like that, much as I would like to!

New Life

Springtime is truly here at last. The first flowering trees are bursting forth, the daffodils are swaying in the breeze and the tulips are delighting my senses with their magnificent colors. It is always worth the wait, because Spring is so lovely. How is it possible that grass greens up so quickly to such a lush, deep green? Even the dandelions are forcing their faces into the sunlight. The very air had a soft feel to it as I walked around the back yard yesterday. These pictures are of some "junk trees" along the west side of our property. They always bloom very early and then the blooms are suddenly gone, and I can never tell which trees they were. These exquisite, feathery blooms make a delicate display that reassure me that "God's in His heaven and all is right with the world".

Growing Up

It's amazing how fast time goes by, and it's not just an old wives' tale that the older you get, the faster it goes. Here are some recent pictures of Naomi at age 5 and Leah at age 3-1/2. Weren't they tiny babies just yesterday? Will it be just tomorrow when they are teenagers? I guess that's a lesson on "enjoying the now" and "carpe diem", because even though we will always treasure the special moments of the past, they are quickly piled up under new moments that also, and too quickly, become memories. It gives me great joy to watch my grandchildren grow, but it also makes my heart ache. Perhaps only a grandparent could understand.