The trees are starting to change, leaves are starting to drop, and the colors in the garden are beautiful.
Tag: Garden
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Bronzes and golds and garnet reds Guess it’s time to put the hammock away View from the back deck I cannot get enough of these grasses. I love the gold and copper tassels. Autumn joy sedum. It’s color just keeps getting deeper. -
Sometimes decay can be beautiful. I walked the garden one day looking for dried and cracked textures, for discarded parts, for nature in a state of decomposition. For something different than I usually look for. There is so much to see when when you look beyond the fresh bloom at the beginning of life. This was a a wonderful reminder to observe more than the obvious: flowers and butterflies are beautiful in all their colorful glory, and so are brown branches and brittle dry flower petals.
Remains of cut flowers in the compost pile 
Hydrangea in the compost 
A rose bloom in its death throes 
Hydrangea in the leaf litter Of course, all of these dead and dying things are fodder for other life: ants, fruit flies, centipedes, and worms all feed on them. Rain and wind, friction and feet, biting mouths and digestive tracts break them down until they are dirt again.
And sometimes, before that happens, a creature will gather these shed strands, forgotten fragments, and castoff clumps into soft shelters for new life to be born.
Bird nest and egg -
I don’t branch out much with photography. I think I take the same photo of dogwood flowers, the same photo of lilac flowers, and the same photo of salvia every year. I use the same lens on the same subjects. I did shoot in the soft evening light the other day and was really pleased with how it illuminated my tulips and columbine.
I want to branch out with photography. When I was young and less self-conscious about portraiture, I took some photographs I was proud of. It helped that I had willing friends to go out shooting with me. Now I’m shy of getting my camera out and photographing people. I’d like to get better at it, but I’m not ready for that yet.
I’ve got a couple of other places to start. First, I can work on being patient for good light. This is really the secret to photography. Also, it is hard. I am not patient.
Second, I’m eager to try a different perspective. We’re going to Iceland at the end of the month, land of landscapes, so I want to try a wide angle lens. I bought one, and it arrived while I was away last week. I finally took it today for a test run in our back yard. I still took standard shots with my 35mm lens, but I was excited to play with my new 16mm. I could capture the whole garden while standing nearly in the garden, and I particularly like trying to focus on something in the foreground while still being able to capture a wide angle background. I need a lot more practice, but I’m having fun.
The entire hill garden, with new plantings in the raised bed and the adjacent new bed 
The rue is about to bloom 
Back bed before it fills in 
New plantings: cuphea, straw flowers, red salvia And of course I took tried and true shots with the 35mm lens.
The nepeta is blooming 
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Late April is a time of year where things start happening in the garden, but slowly. I walk the garden every day and can see small changes – a new leaf, or one bud in scores opening up. I was eager to leave town for a week because I knew the garden would make noticeable progress by the time I came home. When I returned, the night was dark and I couldn’t see. But when the sun rose the next morning, I was not disappointed: the grass is lush and green, the yarrow is filling in, the salvia is blooming, tulips have opened by the mailbox, and the columbine I planted last year finally bloomed. I’m happy to be home again.
Pink columbine 
Tulip and salvia 
Burgundy columbine 
Purple columbine 
Salvia and tulip -
We are in the middle of a fool’s spring, and I took full advantage of it this weekend. From after breakfast to before dinner yesterday, I had shears, rake, shovel, loppers, wheelbarrow, bungee cords, hose, and bags of dirt scattered all over the yard. I pruned roses, cut back ornamental grasses, raked leaves out of flower beds, moved lavenders, transplanted hydrangea, and kicked poor performers to the curb.
As I worked, I smelled fresh mint in the mint patch. I listened to birds chirp and leaves rustle in a warm breeze. When I pulled away dead debris and raked out dry leaves that have insulated the ground these last 5 months, I found green emerging underneath.
Sedum (Autumn Joy) 
Columbine (Aquilegia ‘Biedermeier`) 
Transplanted hydrangea 
Goldenrod 
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Today was warm and windy. The dry winter grasses whipped like ponytails out back. When I took the compost out on my lunch break, I carried my camera, too. I thought the snowdrops might have come up, and I was delighted to see that they have.
One crocus has opened as well, despite its greenery being nibbled to the ground.
snowdrops 
crocus
Butterfly Mind 