In the chill of an early morning, damp with an earlier passing
rain shower, a huge crane fly hugs the door jam while the lady of the garden
passes through quietly to not disturb the gentle being. She’s aware of the errant ways of the Virginia
creeper’s tendrils rushing to claim new territory crossing beneath the
overgrowth of earlier risers, and yet she carelessly stumbles without a tumble
as one has just tried to trip her.
It is a day of promised work, so she dallies about the paths
with her new companion… a cane. The
dandelions have rushed into bloom, dropped their petals, and seeds dispersed in
the March storms. The second flush of
blooms have met the April showers with the same exuberance as the first, while their
upward smiling faces greet any honeybee passing by.
While the dandelions are as tough as nails, another nonnative
has suffered badly in the early March week of twenty-degree mornings. The lily stems are lying on the ground, stunted
and deformed… a miracle they have survived at all. Another early spring like this one will surely
see them meet their demise.
Crane Flies, large and small, hug the north wall of the house;
waiting for the day to begin it’s warming up.
A very short season for the species tulips, as the lovely fuchsia petals
are already turning a crisp brown along the edges. She will miss them. They are a favorite of hers.
Back in the warm house, she changes into jeans and an olive-green
wool sweater with a zipper down on each side around the hip area. It was meant to be a warm casual evening out
sweater, but there are no evenings out anymore, so she wears it as a work
sweater in the garden. It suits her with
her uncut frizzy hair twisted in the back, pinned in place.
She’s a site that can make one’s eyes sore, but she tries to
ignore that part of her faltering beauty and embrace all that crepe that drapes
on her so well. She’ll be spending the
afternoon weeding, and hopefully taking a break by June. April, indeed, has begun her quest to return the best of laid out gardens back to nature.
Barricade to keep cats off the plant table at night.
After several weeks, no more barricade is needed.
Crane Fly
'Little Beauty' species tulip
Shooting Star
Eastern Red Columbine
Fothergilla gardenii Shrub
American Dogwood
Spring ephemeral, Dicentra cucullaria, Dutchman's britches
Maybe this year it will bloom... maybe.
Trillium cuneatum,
sometimes called Little Sweet Betsy
Orange Eyed Fly,
scavenger of small carrion
Tennessee Land Snail
Virginia Bluebell
Pink buds,
wrinkled flower petals opening up,
and fully opened bluebells.
Baby Trillium on right bottom of photo,
tucked under the Bluebell leaves.
Since the Trilium patches are in the back meadow area,
ants have collected trillium seeds and brought them back to their nests,
where they eat the strophioles and discard the seeds.
This is the first year it has a flower.
it can take up to two years for fresh seed to germinate,
and another five to seven years for plants to bloom.
Wild Hyacinth
Not native to this area
Not easy to dig out through the roots of other plants, so it's left in place.
Eastern Redbud tree trunk with flower buds
Pallida Balmatica Iris
The fragrance of Concord Grape juice fills the air around it.
Erigeron pulchellus, commonly known as robin’s plantain.
A biennial that usually dies after it sets seed.
Allegheny Spurge growing with 'Tokudama' Hosta
Blackhaw Viburnum
No longer know the name of this pretty clematis,
which is sometimes tinged with pale pink or green.
Pupa attached to outside door, maybe a Hover Fly.
Wild Petunia, Ruellia humilis
Copper Iris, Iris fulva, in rain garden
Leucauge venusta, Orchard Orbweaver Spider
"My Mary' Azalea, very fragrant
Tulip-tree Beauty Moth (Epimecis hortaria)
About 2 1/2" wingspan
From the back deck
- Please bear with me until and through this coming summer when I will have cataract surgery on my right eye. In the meantime, I'm having a bit of difficulty with the quality of my photographs, and catching all the annoying errors in my writing.
I'm a bit wobbly on my feet on uneven surfaces, possibably from the peripheral neuropathy... I'm not sure. Falling has become a huge concern for me these days in the garden where the paths are not flat or made of rock instead of stepping stones. I feel like my husband has become a helicopter husband, always hovering over me. Drives me crazy.