Tuesday, June 17, 2008

The Full Rose Moon

We had a nice heavy rainfall last night, starting around 12:30, but none of the lightning or hail that accompanied the storm as it mades it way toward the coast. The hail I could do without, but I was looking forward to some exciting thunder and lightning action.

The forecast had suggested rain continuing throughout today, but I awoke to warm golden sunshine and took my coffee out to the garden to enjoy the Camelot-like weather and to marvel at the magic a night of rain works in the garden. And also to doing the edging, trimming away all the tall bits of grass a lawn mower can't cut around the rocks.

More of the red roses on the fence had opened in the morning sunshine and I tried again to get a better sense of their fragrance, even to the point of tasting a rose petal.

It's a scent as lovely as the flowers themselves, but I'm no closer to being writer enough to make you think you can smell them.

This tiny white flower has appeared in the garden this week. I've not a clue what it is, and no doubt someone will come forward to snark about it being a weed which we must eradicate.

But I'm kinda grooving on this little one (the flowers are about the size of the tip of my pinky finger), so for now, it can stay.

The garden's turning into a sort of rainbow flag now that all the dianthus have come into bloom alongside the pansies, and just in time, too. You can see in the shot above that the curly grass is now half as tall as the split rail fence, and keeping pace with the beebalm and the rudbeckia, both yet to bloom.

Here's a closer look at some buds that are forming on one of the rudbeckia plants. I've sort of lost track of which one was which, so these will be a great surprise when they do get started.

For a day supposed to feature much rain, it was wonderfully sunny today, with a toasty 74 degrees to encourage the plants to make the most of last night's rainfall.

On the way home tonight, I swung by the beach to see what sunset was looking like. It was, it seems, muted by these clouds, the eastern edge of another lightning and hail storm which fizzled out as it reached the bay.

Mary from City Garden has tagged me with a meme thing, but I'm just not going to get to that this evening. I'll try to work it in tomorrow, when I'm not so tired.

But meanwhile, you should surf on over to see Mary's blog if you've got the time, and read about her family's allotment on the Greek countryside. And we think we have challenges in the suburbs.


Bird said...

I am going to have to go and smell the pale pink rosa rugosa we have scrambling about in our back garden, as I reckon the scent will be similar to that of your red roses :)

Greg said...

Good morning, Bird! That might do the trick. The scent is lovely, nay, indescribable!

Really, the very point is that everyone *ought* to be out there, smelling as many roses as they can this month!!

Anonymous said...

I love our lightning and thunder storms as well. It's been eons since a hail storm (thank goodness). Beautiful colors you have shared with us, particularly the roses. The shoreline shots and sky are calming. How close are you to the beach? It's nice to be so close.

Greg said...

The roses grow more delightful each day, as more open, scenting the air all up and down the street, it seems.

Skaket Beach, where I took last night's bay photo, is about two minutes drive from work. At home, there's a beach probably equidistant from our house (but there sunset happens over buildings, not the water).

On the Cape, you are never very far from open water, that's for sure.

The moon photo was shot from in front of our house, right around midnight.

RainforestRobin said...

Another lovely post. You are so comfortable in the garden and that comes across. It's like you are a million gardeners across the country, the world. At least I think so, because you sound like me and other friends I know who are like me as they wander through their garden at dawn and dusk. Very beautiful!

I am wondering if the little white flower is a native to the "back-east" woods. I think we used to call it "star flower" and it's tubers we called "Indian Cucumber" and they are edible. BUT BUT BUT...:) I am not sure on this as I can't see the leaves as clearly as the flower. So DON'T eat Indian Cucumbers in your salad tonight. :) It may be a totally different plant. :)

I know I said this last time but I ENVY you being so close to the ocean. Looking at the photos is almost painful...you are torturing me!! LOL No, actually I love that you include them in these post. So next time just say "HI" to the Atlantic for me.

And, thanks for your kind comment on my blog. The first photo is some type of ornamental crabapple or plum tree...I forget which. It is a neighbor's and is double petaled. The second is a large rose and the third is a flower my sister gave me which I do not know the name of. Don't you just LOVE flowers. They blow my mind in that they grow in COLORS. I once studied wild edible and medicinal plants, but I would love to study the reasons why plants grow different colors and shapes. Probably much has to do with attracting their pollinators. Such a fascinating study it would be. Regardless, I just love them.

Greg said...

Robin, thanks for the possible ID of the small white flower...I'll do a "google" (actually, I prefer Ask.com) and see if there's a match. Meanwhile, I shan't be adding it to the salad just yet.

The colors and patterns and shapes of flowers are indeed little miracles.

I remember seeing some Discovery or similar program a few years back, which attempted to show the world through the eyes of bees and other pollinators, as they have different eye structures and see different wavelengths of light than we.

It was remarkable because suddenly it became clear that what seem like little decorative fiddly-bits, stripes, ridges, lines, colors and so on, on flowers were in fact sort of landing lights for the pollinators, big arrows that all indicate "The sweet stuff is here in the center" in no more subtle a way than the coyote calling the road runner's attention to a pile of seed.

I will surely whisper your best regards to the Atlantic when next I am in her company.

ThriftShopRomantic said...

Greg- it's a serious gardener who not only weeds, waters, feeds, nurtures and smells his garden, but tastes it, too. :)

You know my fondness for roses, and those new blooms are lovely. :)

Sh@ney said...

Your roses are exceptional! Love them!

Butch said...

The roses are so beautiful and I like the wee lantern among them.

Nice sunset.

Anonymous said...

I'm glad to hear you didn't get that hail on Monday -- we were driving through it midway through the Pioneer Valley, and I really thought one of the windows would shatter at any moment. When the hail finally died down, the roadway was still difficult to see through the rain, making for a stressy ride through Connecticut and lower NY State.

On the bright side, there was a lot of fantastic lightning, and we didn't get hit by any of the many tree branches strewn across the roads...

Greg said...

Jenn, a great garden must engage all your senses, eh? This one's sucked me *right* in.

Sh@ney, aren't they great? I'm loving the way this bush is adapting and responding to my training it along the fence. I haven't played with roses in sun like this before.

Rhet, glad you survived that storminess...it looked pretty intense on the radar map. I was a little sorry it fizzled before reaching us, as I am looking forward to that first great thunder-boomer of the season!

Curt Rogers said...

Not being a gardener myself it's very easy to have high opinions about all sorts of garden issues. Concerning the beautiful little white "weed," I must say this, a weed is simply a plant which appears in the wrong place at the wrong time. In a different garden your beautiful roses would a weed. I'm not one of those people screaming about invasive species because in the order of things, all species were at one time invasive. There is no such thing as isolationism in nature. If your little white flower makes you happy, be happy!

Patrick said...

I think the scent of roses is one of those primal, letters-of-the-alphabet smell, one of the ones we use to describe other scents.

Another gorgeous, evocative entry, my friend. I really ought to go visit the Atlantic more.

Greg said...

The ocean calls you, my friend...but with all the roses monopolizing the breezes, you'll have to get right close to smell the sea salt!