Ghostwater Garden

Visitors

My friend Liz is bringing her mom out to see the garden tomorrow. Am I nervous? Well. Yeah.

Today as I was weeding, my dog was acting cute and one of the hummingbirds buzzed my ear. Tomorrow, the dog will bark incessantly, and the birds will make themselves scarce.

I wish I could say I trained my dog to point:

That is a japanese beetle he is nosing. It's odd, and I probably shouldn't say it, but this year I have had very few of the dreaded beetles. I've seen them, singly, on and around the plants. But not in numbers. And many of the ones I have seen were already dead. Of course, I have not seen many insects this summer, despite our plentiful rainfall, which makes me wonder if they haven't been spraying our area to keep down the mosquitoes, and just 'forgot' to inform us of that small matter. I then I wonder about this persistant headache I am currently cursed with...

At least there will be a few things for them to see. My favorite daylily is in full form. This plant came with this house, planted in one of the low areas, and struggling to keep it's head above the wet. I potted it up in a whiskey keg and it has been lovely. It's time to give it a repot for next season, as the texture of the petals has changed. I think it needs a good dose of compost.

Fish in the Sky

Every garden needs a water feature. It took me years of yearning before I finally got mine. It's just a half whiskey barrel with a pond liner that sits on the patio. Elon the fish lives there in the summers; his very own summer cottage, complete with a non-stop fresh food buffet.

Fish are devilish photo subjects. The digital lets me take photo after photo of tailfins slipping out of frame before I manage a potential shot. And the camera is never quite sure where to focus - deep, at the rocks I've placed at the bottom? Or high, where the leaves of the Japanese maple reflect so artistically? No matter, it is a Zen exercise to sit, to wait, and to slowly press the shutter release and to catch that fleeting image.

I still need to figure out how to rig my pump so I can get a water noise. The first pump I used in the 'pond' was from a tabletop fixture, it had a faux bamboo riser and the water exited above the pond's surface to land with a pleasing burble. Unfortunately it wasn't long before the amount of water in the pond exhausted that little pump. At some point I will get creative and fix something up, but for now, my water is silent.

Water, however, is always in motion. From the subtle and barely discernible motion caused by the submersible pump - a concave distortion of the water's surface in the direction of the water's flow - to the rising of the fish and the landing of myriad insects, the pond always draws the eye.

And my little pond proves that it's not the size that counts.

I'm Not An Expert...

But I do get lots of questions... all my friends think I know everything, which is very flattering. If they only knew!

But this question came up in my comments:

I wanted to comment here because I had the weirdest thing happen with poppies this year.

I planted them for my first time, from Burpee - live plants not seeds. The leaves grew nicely, but I never got a tall stem on any of them. Then I noticed a bud in the middle of the leaf cluster, which eventually bloomed for a day or two. Just the flower right down at ground level in the middle of the leaves. The stem was all of 1/2 inch or so!

Any idea what might have caused this? Is it because this is the first year? I heard that some perennials don't bloom the first year they are planted...

-=kt=-

I gave it my best shot:

Well. Sandy soil or clay? And when did you plant them, as in: how soon after being put it the ground did they bloom?

I'm going to do some guessing.

These are probably the big oriental poppies. Burpee will propagate these by root division, and the plants themselves will be smaller the first year while they build up root strength. That would be part of what you witnessed.

My big guess is that you put them in only a few short weeks before they bloomed. Lots of plants are programmed by nature to bloom during a certain time of year - when the days reach certain length, the plant knows it is time to bloom. Poinsettias are a prime example of this. Many of the plants that lightly rebloom late in the season are blooming when the day hits that target length again. (Poppies, unfortunately, are not in this group.)

So if you put them in late enough, the plant only had so much time to prepare a flower, and it took a shortcut on producing the stalk.

As for the short bloom time, that is typical of poppies. They don't last but a day or two of glorious bloom. When the plants spread a bit, and they will, you will have a series of bloom stalks that will flower at slightly different times and the show will last a bit longer.

I think that next year your plants will perform to your expectations. If they don't, it will be time to write to the nursery.

What is Joy?

A friend asked me recently, what brings you joy?

I answered: "Realizing suddenly, as I go from point A to point B, that it is a beautiful day and I should take thirty seconds or so to just stop and appreciate it.

Usually what will knock me into the aware state will be birdsong. "

As I lay back on a bench and saw this shot, I think I changed that answer to:

"Seeing things like this that make me run to fetch my camera."

It was a beautiful day in my garden.

{The tree, I should add, is an Acer palmatum var. 'Atropurpureum' - otherwise known as a Red Japanese Maple}

I Love Hostas

I have entirely too many of these plants, most of which are hanging around the driveway in pots, waiting for me to decide where they will find homes. They are just coming into bloom this week.

It's a long season for them, as the different varieties bloom at different times. And are there a lot of varieties of this plant! Miniatures to giants, from yellow leaves to blue. Seersuckered, wavy, variegated, lanceolate... they do it all.

Their flowers are the least of their attractions, but are quite lovely if you take the time to enjoy them. My favorite come in to bloom in august - they came with the house, but they look like Sum and Substance. They have the sweetest, most lovely perfume!

Garden Thugs

Thugs in the garden come in many varieties.

One that is especially bothering me these days is the dog or cat that insists on traveling through the Siberian Irises. Ordinarily, the foliage of the iris stands until mid winter. This year, I am tying them up in odd looking haystacks to keep them from smothering the plants at their feet. Grrr.

Another common thug is this little monster:

Japanese beetles love to munch just about anything. They have a particular fondness in my garden for my shasta daisies and my ostrich ferns. I don't have chickens, and I don't like to use poisons, so I use a by-hand method to get rid of some of them. I recycle a margarine or cottage cheese container, filling it about 2/3 with water. Add about two tablespoons of vegetable oil. Approach the pants with the sun facing you and position the container under the place where the bug is. Touch the bug - their flight mechanism starts with a straight drop - if you position the bucket just right - in they go. The oil clogs their pores and drowns them very quickly. This is not for the squeamish but is very effective.

The third type of thug is a plant thug.

Kathy mentions one of these in my comments. She's having problems with a self-introduced thug, Campanula rapunculoides, and asks me how to tell them apart from Adenophora (Ladybells, shown above). The best I can come up with is a few minor differences. The campanula seems to have a hairy stalk. It's leaves are not as lanceolate as the Adenophora. In other words, boy are these plants similar. (Kathy, if you send a photo of your thug I will post it here to compare)

And sometimes we are our own worst enemies. I have introduced many plants that I have later attempted to eradicate. Euphorbias, perennial sweatpea, species toadflax, Queen's Anne Lace, Tansy, Violets... all are plants that are entirely too successful under cultivation. For the toadflax and the euphorbia I have turned over the entire bed and let it lie fallow for a year, pulling up any and all sprouts as I saw them (daily at best, or at least weekly). The tansy I have yet to begin removing, as it has encroached upon plants that I want to try and save... and July might not be the best time to pull them out of the ground.

The violets and queen anne's lace I pull when they get out of hand, and I try to catch the lace before it goes to seed - these are easy enough to deadhead when the flower is spent.

And I will forever be pulling the sweatpeas out... the birds have carried the seed everywhere and they crop up in the oddest and most unexpected places.

Shasta Daisies

The Shasta Daisies are all aflutter. Shastas (Chrysanthemum maximum) are dependable performers. Come full summer, they burst open with enthusiasm. I love this semi-double version I received in a border planting mixture. I moved a bit of it from our townhouse in Pontiac to this place. In January. Did I mention I love this flower?

Unfortunately, they are universally loved. Both the japanese beetles and the earwigs move in quickly, often before the flower is fully open. I evicted and stomped three earwigs this evening after taking this image. Nasty bugs!

The last poppy is fading in the stone border. This is a loose planting between my driveway and my neighbor's. Here you see the poppy in the foreground, flanked by an unknown daylily variety (possibly 'happy returns.') Behind are Coreopsis grandifolia (tickseed) and Adenophora (ladybells.) The yellow to the far left is a variety of sedum.

This hot number is Lobelia cardinalis (cardinal flower.) I have a couple of pairs of Ruby throated hummingbirds that vie for the territory of my two feeders. To lessen the pressure, I've planted several of the flowers that they are known to favor. I love the drama of this plant's dark stems and burgundy tipped foliage.

Dragons on the Water

I was out a good part of the day today, doing the kind of onerous garden work that nobody wants to see.

I moved a good bit of salvaged fencewood to the far side of the garage, in an attempt to clear out the back of the garage for the composting bins I eventually hope to construct there. I pulled the clippings from the christmas tree and the junipers off the loose pile where I've been tossing everything and put them in a bin to be shredded. I pulled out all the larger pieces of wood and started a pile for my firebowl. In a year I may have the place cleared and the money for the bins. We'll see.

This little fellow came over to see what I was doing.

Mark came out with Hoggle for a walk and I took a break. I've got a half whiskey barrel with a liner in it sitting on the 'patio.' (The patio is the end of the driveway that I have appropriated for my potted plants and sitting areas.) Every garden needs some water.

Another Dragonfly had decided that our little pond was first rate, and was laying her eggs carefully along the tall stalk of a papyrus. This is pretty cool stuff. Nature, right here in my constructed facsimile of nature.

I had a similar visitor last year, a fact I know solely by the evidence of shed skin the larvae left behind as it moved from water to air.

Dragonflies and Damselflies are garden allies, eating mosquitoes and other pest insects. These predators love mosquitoes at all stages of their development, helping to keep the West Nile virus at bay in my yard.

Hoggle of Hogglebog

This is the fellow I affectionately call 'monster.' We adopted him from a shelter 3 hours away based on a photo on Petfinder.

He is an oversized chihuahua, topping out at just below 8 pounds (breed standard is 6.) He is either a giant chihuahua or, as a friend said upon meeting him, a miniature boxer. He came with the clipped tail. I don't know if somebody thought it was cute, or if he had some problem with it. We do know that he had spent six months in various kennels before we adopted him, and was suffering from pneumonia when the rescue shelter brought him out of the pound.

He came with the name 'Elvis' and officially, that remains his name on all his papers. Mark thinks that Elvis fits him. I just roll my eyes at that. This dog? Com'on... look at that face. Is that an Elvis? No. And he didn't answer to it. But he answered to 'dog' just fine. So when I decided he looked like a goblin and named him Hoggle, he was right there with me.

Hoggle at rest.

The miniature boxer.

Mead Moon

Dog wanted walking at half past ten this evening. Usually he is tucked in his kennel for the evening by this hour, but on days that he is up late he tends to ask for one last walkaround.

It's one of those nights out there. Perfect summer on a Saturday. The stiff breeze we had all day has died down to an eddy. The temperatures are comfortable. The neighbors a street over have a small fire going - through the chain link fences I can see it glowing, and can hear the occasional snap and pop as it settles.

Hoggle heads out to the back yard, and I stumble along after, grateful for the light that is casting my shadow across the lawn ahead of me. It takes me a few moments to realize that it's not my neighbor's lamp but rather the moon tapping me on my shoulder.

Knowing my little point and shoot digital won't capture a clear image, I fetch it anyway, and take a few shots. I like the milky atmosphere in this shot. Those are clouds, of course, the gauzy veils of grandmother moon. As Mark and I stood and looked at the crisp silver light she was throwing off, the fireflies winked back at her in homage.