Summer Daze

The verbena bonariensis just keeps on blooming and blooming. This plant is a wonderful staple for the garden and I just can't recommend it to you strongly enough.

I've cut a little for a bouquet or two, and had to trim off a flowerhead that had been damaged...but that has only caused side shoots to begin blooming. The rest of the flowerheads just continue on and on, producing ever more of these tiny purple flowers. And there's just nothing at all wrong with that. Plus the butterflies love them.


These purple pansies are continuing to bloom regularly and their cheery faces never fail to make me grin. For that alone, I'm grateful that they are continuing to bloom, nestled amongst the neighboring overgrowth of allyssum.


The lamp post garden is doing well, despite not being in the zone serviced by the soaker hose. There's a whole lot to see here, starting on the far left with yet another sunflower climbing toward the heavens.

Moving right, there's shasta daisies, allyssum, down low is a slight flush of pink in the form of some sedum only just coming into bloom, and further back is a yellow african marigold.

In the background there's some corn...and more sunflowers...and then this massive cloud of morning glories where there once was a fence post. All the way right are yet a few more sunflowers and the morning glories are just beginning to reach out to twine themselves around these latest tall stalks.



Speaking of the sunflowers, here's yet another cheery flower from one of those first plants who began growing on my bedroom windowsill way back on the first of April.



In talking about things that were steadily blooming yesterday, I may have done a few of my favorite plants a dis-service, including the dianthus. While they are not blooming as heavily as they did early on in spring, they are continuing to offer a some color down low, where it is quite welcome.

Additionally, the loosestrife continues to put out its tiny star-like flowers. I'm a little sorry to have discovered this plant's identity, as I became quite fond of it before realizing it was the dreaded invader.

Here it shares the stage with one of the legion of bachelor's buttons blooming all along the border.





There are several lychnis plants along the fence as well, which have continued to bloom steadily throughout the summer, moreso when I remember to snip off the faded flowerheads.


Badum is a pretty good natured kitty. He generally spends his life alternating between the pretense of a sedentary lifestyle, and tearing from one window in the house to the next. No doubt, the regular parade of chipmunks, birds, bunnies, wild turkeys and who-knows-what-else through the yard keeps him happily occupied with plenty to watch.

This afternoon I happened upon the gardener's cat peering out the window. "Hey, buddy, what you lookin' at?" was met with the withering feline disdain no other species can quite muster, as if to say, "It's cat stuff. I wouldn't expect you to understand. Please don't crowd me at the window."

Of course, it was a little finch foraging in the lawn outside that had his attention. But I concede there were probably also a dozen other things vying for his attention that I couldn't possibly have noticed.

Heaven knows my own attention was challenged today. It was my first full day off in about two weeks, and with such lovely weather (bright and sunny, with temps in the high sixties), the temptation was to let my senses lead me through the day, or maybe just find a patch of sun or shade and settle in with a good page-turner.

Alas, there are other things I really needed to spend some time working on...and so I made my best effort to focus on some of that, spending some time up in the steamy attic, as well as working on other less lovely, but important projects.

But it was the sort of stuff done in small doses, and so I was happy to walk away regularly to explore the garden at different times of the day, playing with the camera as I found new subjects and different angles and the varying lighting effects that an ever-moving sun provides.


This bumbler was happily plundering the remaining blossoms on the agastache during one of my breaks. And while I was out there, I spotted a hummingbird buzzing along the border, exploring and examining the sunflowers and morning glories and corn plants before taking a breather on the power line high above.

I wish the canna lilies would start blooming - they are certainly tall enough now - and I think their red flowers (if indeed they are a red-flowered variety; I realize suddenly that I'm not certain of that.) would be a welcome addition to the garden, as far as attracting hummingbirds.


The Burpee Big Boy tomatoes are beginning to ripen, so I am continuing to hold hope that a tasty and sweet tomato sandwich is in the cards for me sometime real soon.

I ended up getting a fair amount accomplished today, in between exploration breaks, and so I felt the deep nap I stumbled into at the end of the afternoon was well-deserved.

It also allowed me to miss the newstime spoiler reports of the latest event results from the Olympics. Not knowing how things will turn out always makes watching a little more interesting, I think.

The BMX races are postponed this evening, due to rain in Beijing, which is a shame, because I'm just fascinated by them...and the crazy course the races are run upon. To me, it's quite similar to the moguls skiing events of the Winter Games--it looks sort of painful and wild, but I just can't look away!

Meanwhile, there's been some gymnastic exhibitions. Everyone always performs so nicely when the pressure of competition has lifted a little. Just amazing performances there.

I'd sort of hoped that the rain delay on the BMX might've opened up some primetime space for the kayaking/canoe events, but I suppose that isn't the sort of big ticket thing you broadcast in the evening. I'll have to look online for that.

But also tonight, platform diving! Talk about crazy...I think I may once have jumped (I hesitate to use the word "dive" during this Olympic week, when it is clear I am not worthy to associate with the word) from a high diving board back during childhood swim lessons, but knowing my irrational fear of heights, it's also entirely possible that I just climbed back down instead. And in any event, it wasn't nearly as tall as what they are diving so gracefully from!!

Oh, and what a fantastic way to end the evening's post: Kerri Walsh and Misty May-Treanor just locked up another gold medal for the USA in the arena of Women's Beach Volleyball!!

By the way, I have been remiss in making a recommendation: if you, like me, are enjoying submerging yourself in this summer's Olympic Games in Beijing, you may enjoy visiting TR over at From the Faraway Nearby. Tim's working the games over in Beijing, and his experiences in the city have been a fascinating and fun counterpoint to the television coverage. His blog has been one of my favorite new discoveries this summer.

By all means, check it out!

Morning

Lily bulbs are such amazing things. Each one contains everything that its resulting plant will be, down under the ground. I don't think I realized that until I had grown some perfect, first year bulb plants...and then, after nicking a bulb with a shovel while transplanting, saw the misshapen, lopsided plant that resulted. It's made me a very cautious digger, where lilies are concerned.

That wasn't what caused this unusual four-petaled stargazer lily flower, though. I think this was one of the bulbs in the mixed bag I purchased way back in early spring. They've all been short bloomers this year, which I think is more a product of their being smaller, second-rate bulbs (Six for four dollars was a bargain, after all).

In time, I'm sure they'll grow large and strong and tall...but meanwhile, I'm still delighted with these perfect-looking (to me) flowers and their heady fragrance!

Tomorrow is a day off and I'm looking forward to accomplishing a few assorted things with the precious time to myself. I've probably got in spent ten different ways with all I have in mind to possibly accomplish, but hopefully, one of the things I'll successfully complete would be the rescuing of my fence flags from the binding tendrils of the morning glories.

They need a little tough love, I think...though it's hard to be annoyed with such eager healthy plants. But it would be nice to see the flags flapping in the breeze once again.

That the morning glories match the magenta lychnis was unplanned, just one of those happy accidents. But then, when you welcome all the colors, some are bound to be the same.

I'm also fond of the pairing of the lychnis and the Queen Anne's lace, but then again, Anne looks good with just about everything!

It was odd to water the garden this morning. I haven't had to do so for about a week, with all the rain and overcast days, and I'd almost forgotten the routine it requires. But it was hot and sunny yesterday and the forecast called for more of the same today, so after an uncertain start, all went well and everything enjoyed a good drink.

I have also noticed (and added to that long list of Things To Do) that there are a number of things I do consider weeds, growing quite tall and robust, along the fence. I'll need to extract them as carefully as Java spoke of in her recent allegory, so as not to disturb their neighbors.

Meanwhile, I have some non-garden, non-blogging things that need tending to, as well, so we'll see what the day brings.

In another part of the forest, a pale pink bachelor's button came into bloom today. It was a sunny part of the "forest", though, as you can see. I didn't get out to take pictures quite as early as I might've liked, so the light was a little strong and washed out the already light color. Still, very pretty.

I think this pink pretty revealed something pretty interesting to me, as well. But I'll save that tale for another time.

These deep blue bachelor's buttons are still my favorite.

Invasions

At first I took it for the wet roof of a house, but one flash following another showed it to be in swift rolling movement. It was an elusive vision—a moment of bewildering darkness, and then, in a flash like daylight, the red masses of the Orphanage near the crest of the hill, the green tops of the pine trees, and this problematical object came out clear and sharp and bright.

And this Thing I saw! How can I describe it? A monstrous tripod, higher than many houses, striding over the young pine trees, and smashing them aside in its career; a walking engine of glittering metal, striding now across the heather; articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder. A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly as it seemed, with the next flash, a hundred yards nearer.

Well, no. Actually, that's just the water tower here in Harwich, and those words are worshipfully lifted from Chapter 10 of H.G. Wells' sci-fi classic, The War of the Worlds, always good summertime reading. But with July 4th coming this Friday, we on the Cape are dealing with an invasion of another sort.

It's true that ever-rising gas prices have had their impact on the sheer numbers of people visiting Cape Cod, but things are still busier here than a few weeks ago. There's longer lines in stores and more cars on the highway. Wailing sirens fill the air, both day and night.

We haven't lived this far up-Cape before, so it's a little hard to judge just how much the economy has impacted things, but you can see the difference at the restaurant. We've not yet seen those crazy nights where there's a waiting line for hours. Surely that will come soon, though...probably as soon as the weekend.

Still, the other day, as I waited at the end of the on-ramp to the highway while a long line of cars passed by, a red car came dashing up beside me, doing close to 50, slipped around me and inserted itself into the flow of traffic, expertly fitting between two cars there was barely enough room to fit. It seemed carefully choreographed, but it was clear to me: the idiots always find the money to go away on vacation. If only they could leave their fast-paced lives behind them, instead of treating a day at the beach like another business appointment.

Here's some of those lychnis flowers I keep talking about. I've got a few of these plants now and I see plenty in the neighborhood. They are one of those plants that likes to sow itself around with impunity and so once you've got one, you seemingly always have it.

I wanted to show off this pair of toymaker gnomes /elves, who are nestled into a bed of holly along the walk into our backyard. Granny painted and fired these at her ceramics class in Florida not too many years ago, shipping first one and then the other to us. They've stood sentinel in several of our gardens now.

My most sincere thanks to all of you, who have expressed your concern, offered your comforting words, good wishes, thoughts and prayers to us and for Granny. We wouldn't be at all surprised to see her make a good recovery from this--that's just the kind of person she's always shown herself to be--but it's become clear this week that it will be perhaps a bigger challenge than she's faced previously.

Dad's flying down there tomorrow and I have no doubt that the sight of her Number One Son's smiling face and the warmth of his hand in hers will go a long way toward bolstering her spirits.

Here's one of those spectacular shasta daisies, about as tall as the top rail of the fence. Others are even taller. More of them open each day and some of them are showing lots of side shoots, so we should see a nice, long-ish show from them this year.

Also notable here is the fly who's doing some pollinator work on the daisy. Notable because these are the pollinators I'm seeing most in the garden this year. There have been some of those round black and yellow bumblebees, though none I've yet managed to photograph...and honestly, they were mostly brought to the yard by the sweet smell of honeysuckle and took little interest in the rest of the border.

I haven't seen a single honeybee this year.


The zucchini seedlings are now almost all sprouted and doing pretty nicely, completing the trio of plants which comprise the Three Sisters garden. I look forward to watching them trail and ramble around, covering the ground and trying to take over.

A warning to you all: now's the time to arrange to rent a guard dog for your front yard, to fortify the locks on your doors, or boost your virus protection: one way or the other, I suspect I'll be trying to sneak great sacks of the slender green vegetables into your life come August.

Here's that yellow rose, now fully in bloom. I still can't quite fathom that the Victorians designated this flower to represent jealousy (did they forget the whole "green with envy" thing? Or did we come to that notion later, when money became so very important?), although I suppose, if you have it growing so delightfully in your yard, there's a possibility your lesser gardening neighbors could hate you for it.

Em and I saw a hawk (I'm pretty sure it was a hawk, anyway, but considering the speed with which everything was happening, I suppose I ought not rule out an osprey) down at the end of Not Wisteria Lane last night, stirring up trouble with a host of smaller birds, who were all ganging up to drive him away from their homes and young ones. Troubling for all those other birds, but still, hawks are so darned cool to see close up, and this one was not far overhead. Of course, the camera was far behind me, back at the house.

Obviously, I did no posting last evening--jeez, I gotta take a break sometime. I did manage to get a little weeding done and edged the beds in advance of Kelly and Carol's visit later today, but I was also on the phone with Mom and Dad for a while and the day's heat lingered into the evening. It took only a minor camera battery SNAFU to encourage me to check email, surf some blogs and then to YouTube (we can make anything a verb, eh?)for a little while instead, before heading off to bed.

Here's another look at the ever-lovely verbena bonariensis, soaring over the rest of the garden bed. Woo hoo...is that a pretty color or what?

The Midsummer Revels

A hot morning in our June garden, but there's lots to see, so sit back and be ready for a long post. Today, I'll kick things off with a more fantastic shot of the moss roses.


The first lychnis flowers are coming into bloom this week. I wonder if there's a more common name for this plant I'm not familiar with.

The official name I've found is the Latin, which is lychnis coranaria...and in search of a warmer, friendlier name, I found it also referred to as Purpurklatt(Oh, great...German...).

I'm totally entranced by these red roses on the trellace, so you know I'm going to make you look at another one today.

Here's an orange calendula blossom, getting a little shaggy looking as it nears the end of its life.

But never fear, not far away is a straw-colored variation just coming on. And these guys really do bloom like crazy over the summer, as long as you dead-head regularly.

The red snapdragons are currently ruling the central garden bed.

Here's one nestled amongst the stalks of some drumstick allium, whose flower heads are growing larger each day and beginning to split out of their onion-skin pods.

The last of the peony bushes came on this morning, with only a single blossom this year. Of course, with all the others, its sort of an embarrassment of riches!


The numerous stalks of milkweed are sporting their big flower balls now. Their colors are a bit muted, but they're pretty popular with pollinators. Actually, though, I'm a little concerned on that subject.

I've been hearing a lot about the American Honeybee and Colony Collapse Syndrome, and have been keeping my eyes especially peeled for some these guys. And so far, I'm not seeing them. I hope they'll appear with the blooming of the Oregano That Ate Eastham, as they've swarmed that in years past.

Down at the far southern end of the back garden's field is a rosebush, overgrown and probably too shaded by tall pine trees.

Despite all that, every year it puts out a few of these simple and delicate flowers. I hope to find a sunnier sight for this special plant. Can't you just imagine the plant covered in these?

Doing battle against the Oregano That Ate Eastham is this fantastic sweet william, which actually looks just a little more maroon than the red the sun was bringing out here.

Over on the edge of the grape madness is this rose, which has a double blossom that always reminds me of zinnias.

After a while, I left the back garden to explore the rest of the yard and as I wandered out to the road to snap a photo of the pond, I spied a mama duck and at least four ducklings.

She seemed to be herding them into the tall pond grass at the water's edge. I wonder if their nest is in there.


Here's a great pink sweet william from the front garden I thought you'd enjoy. So much variety in this species.

Along the driveway are some leggy single pink roses.

And right outside the front door, our Chrysler tea rose is blooming for the first time in...sweet Gaea, I think it's been like nine years!


Not far away, Mr. Lincoln has put out half of a red blossom. Considering we'd declared him dead last summer, this seemed a pretty terrific effort.

Meanwhile, in the living room window, it's been fun watching the baby catbirds in their nest(Interestingly, our actual cat seems to have no interest in these goings-on).

We try to just look in on them now and again, since both parents shoot us dirty looks when they spot us checking them out. But its fun to peek in on their progress...and to watch both parents swooping in on seemingly-endless food runs.


After work, I found myself drawn back out into the garden, where I found a catbird bathing in the new birdbath.

He was really getting into it, splashing around and having a good time, but suddenly glanced up at the sky and took flight, making room for a thirsty robin.

Once she was sated and took wing, the catbird returned from his perch in the apple tree, to splash and bask a little more.

Another gazania blossom glowed in the evening light.

There's plenty of magic in the garden this time of year, from the birds to the roses.

Tonight we also had the special effect of lightning bugs taking wing, their trademark chartreuse flashes appearing randomly around me in the air.

Here's one on a milkweed plant.

And for good measure, a three-quarter moon rose in the south.