Spring, how I long for thee.
Your warm embrace
Caressing my face
Brings out the joy in me.
I am a wife, Mom to two precocious tots and a Certified Master Gardener. Gardening is my therapy and one of my greatest joys. I make mistakes of course, but do my best to learn from them and move forward with as much grace as muddy jeans will allow.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Winter Blues & Hues
In spite of the cold weather, there's been a lot going on in my gardens. I expanded the flowerbed by my mailbox area to include some evergreen euonymus shrubs so it's not just a dormant sea of brown mulch in the wintertime. Also planted were a few muscari (aka grape hyacinth) bulbs which have began sprouting, dahlia tubers and peacock orchid bulbs which have yet to emerge.
Throughout the rest of the yard, I sprinked more dahlia tubers and muscari bulbs which are doing fantastic, spider lilies which I took way too long to plant (fingers crossed here), and firepower nandina & loropetalum shrubs to the northside flower bed for the same reason as above.
Yesterday, my daughter and I braved the chilling winds to transplant a few irises. As I raked the mulch aside, I was pleasantly surprised to discover last winter's tulip bulbs poking through. Afraid to cause them damage, we left the irises alone.
So why plant in this frigid cold weather? Apparently, the soil temperature will remain in the mid seventies for a bit, which encourages root growth. Who would have thought? And the nurseries have started receiving their spring stock. No better time to select the best of the bunch. Just couldn't resist the $1.50 shrubs at Lowe's.
I'm still a little concerned about the effect of six nights in the lower 20's on my newly planted shubs. The bulbs and tubers have been in the ground for a few weeks so I'm hoping they have a little added protection.
Gotta love this roller-coaster Alabama weather. I'm totally expecting beach weather by the end of next week.
Throughout the rest of the yard, I sprinked more dahlia tubers and muscari bulbs which are doing fantastic, spider lilies which I took way too long to plant (fingers crossed here), and firepower nandina & loropetalum shrubs to the northside flower bed for the same reason as above.
Yesterday, my daughter and I braved the chilling winds to transplant a few irises. As I raked the mulch aside, I was pleasantly surprised to discover last winter's tulip bulbs poking through. Afraid to cause them damage, we left the irises alone.
So why plant in this frigid cold weather? Apparently, the soil temperature will remain in the mid seventies for a bit, which encourages root growth. Who would have thought? And the nurseries have started receiving their spring stock. No better time to select the best of the bunch. Just couldn't resist the $1.50 shrubs at Lowe's.
I'm still a little concerned about the effect of six nights in the lower 20's on my newly planted shubs. The bulbs and tubers have been in the ground for a few weeks so I'm hoping they have a little added protection.
Gotta love this roller-coaster Alabama weather. I'm totally expecting beach weather by the end of next week.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
It's Sooooooo Cold...
Winters in SE Alabama are supposed to be mild. But every so often, we get a doozie. Remember the snowstorm in February...
http://rosegardenadventures.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-day.html
Anyway, this December we've been on a roller coaster weather ride. One mild day followed by an overnight low of 16F. 16F!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (And then we wonder why everyone around us has a persistent hacking cough.)
The day after one such blistery cold night, I went to check on a few newly planted perennials and found a block of ice in one of my birdbaths. Too cool.
http://rosegardenadventures.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-day.html
Anyway, this December we've been on a roller coaster weather ride. One mild day followed by an overnight low of 16F. 16F!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (And then we wonder why everyone around us has a persistent hacking cough.)
The day after one such blistery cold night, I went to check on a few newly planted perennials and found a block of ice in one of my birdbaths. Too cool.
Monday, November 22, 2010
A Trip to the Pocosin
Pocosins are densely vegetated, unspoiled forests. Derived from the Algonquin word for swamp on a hill, pocosins can be found along the southern Atlantic Coastal Plain. Perhaps their most important value is that of providing habitats for endangered species and species adapted to living in untouched areas. See http://www.eoearth.org/article/Pocosins.
I had the opportunity to the Pike County Pocosin this afternoon. It is a 190 acre nature preserve tract with the Forever Wild Program.
Image taken from
http://www.outdooralabama.com/public-lands/stateLands/foreverWild/FWTracts/PikeCountyPocosin/12_Pike_County_Poscosin.pdf
I have a pretty vivid imagination. Combined with tales of legend, you can picture how my imagination can get carried away. Prior to the visit, I pictured exceptionally neat walking trails dotted with exotic floral species and small wildlife a safe distance away. Sounds fantastic (and a bit naive) right. What I actually got was a two-hour hike downhill through brush and bramble, dotted with Carolina Jessamine (if you don't remember these from a previous posting, they're the super poisonous vines I tossed from my garden). Let me interject that I had a fun, learning experience. But there were some really scary moments for a city girl like me.
Upon arrival, we came across a dead doe and her baby, entrails hanging out. For a second, I thought I was in an Alan Jacobson novel. Both had been mutilated for their tenderloins. Apparently it's the filet mignon of deer. Then as we read the warning postings, my group learned that hunting was allowed on the grounds. None of us were wearing orange. The leaders of our group however surmised that because it was the middle of the day, the game would not be out frolicking. And the hunters would likely wait for the full moon tonight which would draw the deer out. Not exactly scientific, but made enough sense for us to continue. Just in case, we made a racket along the way, which included shouting 'I'm not a deer!'.
Just as I had relaxed about entering a hunting zone improperly dressed, one member of our team remarked that she wished she'd brought a pistol to shoot snakes. Great. Eyes peeled on the ground for mocassins and ears tuned for rattlers, I did manage to see several springs (my first), a creek bed, dozens of oak varieties, tulip trees, wild blackberry, nandina, the original holly tree, reindeer moss, peat moss, prickly pear, a squirrel nest, an armadillo hole, snake holes, and deer tracks. It was stunning. If I were more of a country girl, this would be the ideal place for some quiet time, but the forest noises kept me somewhat on edge. Case in point, the cow somewhere in the distance mooing that I would have sworn was an ATV backfiring. (I'm still trying to figure out what the heck a cow was doing in the middle of a pocosin. Either that was one lost cow, or we were near to pastureland that backed up to the forest.)
After a few hours we made it out safely. Although my group probably believes otherwise, I am really grateful for the experience and did enjoy it. Will I do it again? I don't know. I'd have to be wearing an orange vest and knee-high goloshes, armed with a machete and a pistol.
I had the opportunity to the Pike County Pocosin this afternoon. It is a 190 acre nature preserve tract with the Forever Wild Program.
Image taken from
http://www.outdooralabama.com/public-lands/stateLands/foreverWild/FWTracts/PikeCountyPocosin/12_Pike_County_Poscosin.pdf
I have a pretty vivid imagination. Combined with tales of legend, you can picture how my imagination can get carried away. Prior to the visit, I pictured exceptionally neat walking trails dotted with exotic floral species and small wildlife a safe distance away. Sounds fantastic (and a bit naive) right. What I actually got was a two-hour hike downhill through brush and bramble, dotted with Carolina Jessamine (if you don't remember these from a previous posting, they're the super poisonous vines I tossed from my garden). Let me interject that I had a fun, learning experience. But there were some really scary moments for a city girl like me.
Upon arrival, we came across a dead doe and her baby, entrails hanging out. For a second, I thought I was in an Alan Jacobson novel. Both had been mutilated for their tenderloins. Apparently it's the filet mignon of deer. Then as we read the warning postings, my group learned that hunting was allowed on the grounds. None of us were wearing orange. The leaders of our group however surmised that because it was the middle of the day, the game would not be out frolicking. And the hunters would likely wait for the full moon tonight which would draw the deer out. Not exactly scientific, but made enough sense for us to continue. Just in case, we made a racket along the way, which included shouting 'I'm not a deer!'.
Just as I had relaxed about entering a hunting zone improperly dressed, one member of our team remarked that she wished she'd brought a pistol to shoot snakes. Great. Eyes peeled on the ground for mocassins and ears tuned for rattlers, I did manage to see several springs (my first), a creek bed, dozens of oak varieties, tulip trees, wild blackberry, nandina, the original holly tree, reindeer moss, peat moss, prickly pear, a squirrel nest, an armadillo hole, snake holes, and deer tracks. It was stunning. If I were more of a country girl, this would be the ideal place for some quiet time, but the forest noises kept me somewhat on edge. Case in point, the cow somewhere in the distance mooing that I would have sworn was an ATV backfiring. (I'm still trying to figure out what the heck a cow was doing in the middle of a pocosin. Either that was one lost cow, or we were near to pastureland that backed up to the forest.)
After a few hours we made it out safely. Although my group probably believes otherwise, I am really grateful for the experience and did enjoy it. Will I do it again? I don't know. I'd have to be wearing an orange vest and knee-high goloshes, armed with a machete and a pistol.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Rain Gardens
Like I friend of mine said, 'I installed a rain garden in my yard before I even know what a rain garden was'. Essentially, I had an area on the top of my driveway that collected and held water after it rained. One option was to install a French Drain which would have run about $500. That was a definite no-go. The other was to find plants whose roots love to get and stay wet (and tolerate shade) and create a new garden. Bingo! In my search, I acquired Elephant Ears, Black-Stemmed Elephant Ears, perennialized Ferns and Louisiana Iris, all from friends happy to get rid of them.
Subsequently I heard about the ACES' interest in installing a rain garden at the Pioneer Museum of Alabama (PMAL), where I also volunteer. I decided this would be a great opportunity to learn exactly what a rain garden is, what it does and how to correctly install one.
Very simply put, a rain garden is a depressed flower bed (about two feet in the ground), placed at least ten feet from a building structure, to collect rain water runoff, thereby:
After an extensive calculation to determine the ideal spot and size, a 250 sq/ft rain garden was installed at the PMAL on a rainy and very cold morning. It is filled with Coreopsis, Agarista, Stokes' Aster and Echinacea. It needs some time to grow in, but should be promising in the spring.
Obviously I unknowingly skipped a few steps in my personal installation, particularly the two-feet excavation, but mine does just about the same thing. Bear in mind, this isn't anywhere close to 250 sq/ft. Of course, most of it has now died back with the frost. But I'm looking forward to enjoying it in spring.
Subsequently I heard about the ACES' interest in installing a rain garden at the Pioneer Museum of Alabama (PMAL), where I also volunteer. I decided this would be a great opportunity to learn exactly what a rain garden is, what it does and how to correctly install one.
Very simply put, a rain garden is a depressed flower bed (about two feet in the ground), placed at least ten feet from a building structure, to collect rain water runoff, thereby:
- preventing the runoff from contaminating nearby water sources
- enabling the water to reabsorbed into the ground, which acts as a natural filtration system
- preventing erosion
After an extensive calculation to determine the ideal spot and size, a 250 sq/ft rain garden was installed at the PMAL on a rainy and very cold morning. It is filled with Coreopsis, Agarista, Stokes' Aster and Echinacea. It needs some time to grow in, but should be promising in the spring.
Obviously I unknowingly skipped a few steps in my personal installation, particularly the two-feet excavation, but mine does just about the same thing. Bear in mind, this isn't anywhere close to 250 sq/ft. Of course, most of it has now died back with the frost. But I'm looking forward to enjoying it in spring.
Guess Who Came To Dinner
The other evening while inspecting my gardens, my daughter and I noticed the wierdest half moth / half hummingbird freak of nature drinking nectar from my Ryan's Pink Chrysanthemum plant. I scopped up my baby and raced inside for the camera. Luckily it was still there happily drinking away. I was able to snap a few pics before it flew away.
Later that night I scoured the Internet for this species. You'll never believe it, it was a five-spotted hawk moth (aka sphinx moth or hummingbird moth). If this still means nothing to you, remember those pesky tomato hornworms I was so busy killing earlier this year? Well the five-spotted hawk moth is the tomato hornworm all grown up. Fancy that!
I came across several websites praising the beauty of moths in general, and five-spotted hawk moths in particular. I learnt that moths are nighttime pollinators as butterflies are daytime pollinators. Pretty important huh. This tidbit later influenced my perception of the five-spotted hawkmoth...I suddenly found them more beautiful. Don't get me wrong, they're no ruby-throated hummingbird or monarch butterfly, but there's something to be said for a creature that can go either way. It had the markings and wing span of a moth but the stealth of a hummingbird. Who knew. But don't take my word for it, take an evening stroll around your own garden and keep your eyes out for one.
Later that night I scoured the Internet for this species. You'll never believe it, it was a five-spotted hawk moth (aka sphinx moth or hummingbird moth). If this still means nothing to you, remember those pesky tomato hornworms I was so busy killing earlier this year? Well the five-spotted hawk moth is the tomato hornworm all grown up. Fancy that!
I came across several websites praising the beauty of moths in general, and five-spotted hawk moths in particular. I learnt that moths are nighttime pollinators as butterflies are daytime pollinators. Pretty important huh. This tidbit later influenced my perception of the five-spotted hawkmoth...I suddenly found them more beautiful. Don't get me wrong, they're no ruby-throated hummingbird or monarch butterfly, but there's something to be said for a creature that can go either way. It had the markings and wing span of a moth but the stealth of a hummingbird. Who knew. But don't take my word for it, take an evening stroll around your own garden and keep your eyes out for one.
Friday, October 29, 2010
What's In A Name
At a fall landscape workshop sponsored by the Alabama Cooperative Extension Service (ACES) earlier this week, I learnt the gardener's definition of a weed. Forget what you've been told. It is simply this...any plant that grows where you don't want it to. Seen those red, ball-shaped, pointy weeds in open fields, near the roadsides and lawns the last few weeks? They're not weeds my friend. They're Spider Lilies and people pay good money for them. Here's a tip...when you see one next fall, dig up the bulb, transplant it into your garden and save $5. BTW, they make excellent cut flowers.
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