Sunday Garden Report

Off the back porch, this bleeding heart plant just gets prettier every day. I've always enjoyed the uniqueness of this particular plant, the sentimental look of those dangling hearts.

The bleeding heart is joined in that location by an assort ment of older hyacinths.


There are fewer flowers on these than the younger, pink ones out front, but these blossoms are considerably larger and just as sweetly scented.

Here, it is complimented by the purple-blue flowers of money plant, so named for the silver dollar seedpods it forms as summer comes on. It's also known as lunaria, or moonwort...or honesty. Whatever the name, I like the simplicity of those four-petal blossoms. And those seedpods are pretty cool, too.

The star-gazing last night was phenomenal. To the east, some low clouds were backlit by the late-rising moon. But overhead and in all other directions, the skies were crystal clear. It was chilly, to be sure, but it was one of those nights when you can see the pulse of the stars' light and really understand what the first person meant who suggested that a star could twinkle. I even saw a shooting star, which is always sort of thrilling.

Clouds moved in during the night, however, and this morning there was a dull grayness to the sky. I was pleased to see that we are very likely (100% chance, they say, which sounds like a guarantee to me) to have rain tomorrow and Tuesday, which isn't a bad thing at all. Watering with a hose just isn't the same as the rain that falls from the sky.

April showers, after all.

To take advantage of that forth coming natural boon, I planted some white and purple allyssum seedlings this morning. I've put them along the outer edges of the front garden, being careful to work between the just-emerging allyssum seedlings I scattered seed for a while back. Eventually, they should all grow together and create nice drifts of tiny sweet blossoms to carpet the front edges of the bed.

It was very quiet this morning, save for the insistant clucks and tuts I've come to expect from the blackbirds in advance of weather changes. There was a brief outburst of activity from the house sparrows, and the distant sounds of other birds but it was generally still.

In the distance was a dull roaring sound which is easily mistaken for the sounds of distant traffic. Only after a while do you realize that it's actually the ocean. Even after ten years, this never fails to surprise and delight me.

(An unrelated sidenote here: speaking of delight, Amy Lemen, where are you? I hope you Google yourself and find this blogpost. I miss you!)


There was a brief shower this afternoon (in Orleans, anyway...) and some of the brighter stars are still visible through the thin cloud cover overhead tonight. Our temperature's at 45 now, which is actually the warmest it's been all day.


Meanwhile, another variety of cherry tree has begun blooming outside of work.