Temperature's Rising...

The rain of the last few days has brought on the flowering of the wild daisies. These guys will actually go on more or less all summer, as long as I keep up with the deadheading. That hot red you see down below this flower is another clump of dianthus that's lately begun showing off.

They probably aren't "wild" daisies, per se. At least they seem fairly well-behaved to me. What I mean is they aren't some cultivated species, like the Shasta Daisies, or the "Becky" variant on the Shastas, with the large flowers we'll see somewhere around the first of July.

I found these growing in some grassy area and transplanted them into the garden, where they have mingled with the other plants. They like to seed themselves around, which is a quality I like in a plant, especially one so pretty. To my mind, a garden can't have too many of these.

It was a grey morning, though we had picked up ten degrees over the 51 we had when I'd retired for the evening and you could already feel the humidity closing in over us at 8:00 a.m., or so.

This pair of cardinals seemed to be enjoying one another's company, as they flitted about here and there along the fence.


As the work day progressed, the clouds cleared away and the sun came out...and it was hot.

Here's a bit of rose campion blooming out back of the restaurant, which I noticed on a break.

That great purple in the background is some more money plant--I told you it was everywhere.

We were at 71 by lunchtime and 81 an hour later, which seemed to be our high for the day. Thankful for air conditioning in the banquet hall.

I'd brought shorts and my new Tevas to change into, so I wouldn't have to suffer the heat in work attire on the ride home. As it turned out, it was around 6:00 p.m. by the time I got free of the office and by then, the temperature was already sliding back down to something reasonable (it's 66 now) and a nice seabreeze pushed the humidity away for the evening.

Tomorrow's supposed to be warmer still. I'll count on the ocean to keep us from getting as hot as places like New York (sorry, Patrick) and Boston, but also count my blessings that it will be a day when I can dress more casually and cooly for my time at work.

Back at home as the sun sank in the west, I poked around the garden a little and spotted some unexpected buds on this clutch of iris. This was a little slow to put up leaves this spring, so I was assuming I wouldn't see any flowers this years, but clearly, i was wrong.

I expect this will be one of those yellow and brown irises, since that was primarily what we had at the old garden and what I expect made the move. However, I'm a little intrigued by the purple streaking down at the base of the leaves, which may indicate a bloom of a different color. We shall see.

A few bits of business: First, my thanks go out to Richard, who emailed from Pittsburgh to suggest a mild solution of Dawn dish detergent and water (just a drop or two of the soap in a spray bottle full of water) to spray on the roses to address the aphid issue whilst I figure out where to get some ladybugs.

I'm very happy to say that I did so Thursday evening and the problem seems to have cleared up already by today! I have a few damaged flower heads and leaves to pinch out to make things a little tidier, but the aphids are gone. How I love a simple solution. Thanks Richard, both for your suggestion and also for stopping by the Garden!

And now, the links portion of the evening: I read a great New York Times article earlier about the phenomenon of "guerilla gardening". Essentially, we're talking about people who have no gardens going unbidden to do gardening work on land with no gardeners...abandoned lots, public places, etc.

The article focuses primarily on the efforts of Richard Reynolds, who's been organizing massive work on this type in London, England. If you go to read the article, be sure to watch the video about how to make a wildflower seed bomb which you can chuck over a fence or a wall into some otherwise unreachable area. Gods, I love this stuff!

Richard keeps a blog about those efforts, as well, which you can find here.

Stay cool, everyone!

A Friend To Dogs Everywhere, Apparently

I woke to another overcast morning today. We seem to be getting the less delightful weather out of the way before the long weekend starts, which is a nice change of pace.

The forecast for the weekend is fairly stellar, as such things go. Either we're finally catching a break from the holiday weekend blues, or the local chambers of commerce have finally strong-armed regional meteorologists and said, "Look, you don't know what you're talking about, anyway. Tell them it will be nice so they'll come to the Cape for the weekend." We'll see...

Inside, the thriving morning glories are eager to climb something. They'll be high on the weekend's list. There wasn't lots to see outside in the short time I had to visit the garden before work today...just a host of things I hope to accomplish with some free time this weekend.

The money plant's still giving us a nice range of purples, as its flowers fade, replaced with the beginnings of the papery silver-dollar seedpods that inspires their most common name.


But other things are on the way, as is evident in this recently discovered iris bud just outside the front door.

These irises predate us in this location, so the color of their blooms is unknown. I'm suspecting they'll be some light color, like white or yellow...but I've been surprised before. And on this topic, anyway, that's rarely a bad thing.

Despite being early out the door, I was later arriving to work than I expected since I met a new neighbor. As I got into the car, I spotted this long-legged dog booking down the street in my direction. She turned into our driveway and leaped up on the side of the car, a goofy smile on her face. It was like she spotted me and said, "Hey, WE'RE going to be great friends!"

She was only a pup, I could tell, though nearly as big as thirteen year old Emily. All legs and tongue. I think this may have been a mastiff, tho I'm often a little vague on specifics like that. Do mastiffs come in white and pale brown? Do their faces smush back a little like there's a pug in the family tree? I'm not sure. Maybe she's a distant relation of Hagrid's dog, Fang. Anyway, her temperament was great, thank goodness--friendly as anything, slurping me through the open window as I stroked the top of her head.

I got out after a moment, when it became clear she wasn't going to leave me or the car alone...much less get far enough away for me to comfortably drive away. It's a long ride to Orleans, and it'd be a longer run behind the car, I thought, which seemed like exactly what I might expect of this eager girl, so I thought I'd see if I could figure out whose house she came from. At that point I was pinned against the side of the car and solidly slurped.

Once I extricated myself from that, and offered a half-hearted admonition through laughter, I must confess (don't tell Em) that it was refreshing to walk down the street beside a dog (not on a leash, just a chain prong collar) who walked alongside me and listened when I suggested sitting and such. Everything seemed to fascinate her, though, as she noticed and woofed at each bird that flew by. Wait'll she meets the bunnies and butterflies.

There's a house down the street where I've noticed they have multiple dogs, so I thought perhaps this one came from there...but there was no human present, and the reaction through the window we got from those multiple dogs made it clear this one wasn't one of them. We walked back to the house of one of the neighbors I know, and she told me the dog belonged to the people who'd just moved in next to her.

They weren't home, of course. And they had apparently left their dog out in the backyard, where she'd easily gotten underneath the flimsy coated wire fencing they thought would discourage her. Just as easily, she went back under when I lifted it, sat down and grinned at me.

I don't think I left with illusions that she was going to stay in the pen for any great length of time once my back was turned. But at least she stayed in there long enough for me to walk back to our place, two houses down. I hope she decided to be a good girl and stayed put, because she certainly was too sweet and I wouldn't want anything to have happened to her. But as much as I was falling for her, she's not my dog or my responsibility...and a half hour had passed since I'd first set out for work...so off I drove, fingers crossed.

It'll be interesting to see how quickly this dog and I cross paths again.

The day continued graying as the afternoon came on, when I was able to get a break from work things to drive to the bank. I caught these clouds over Boat Meadow Creek on my way back.

I'm not sure what these low shrubs are growing on the edge of the marsh. I feel like I have known their name in the past, but if so, it escapes me today. However, their honeyed fragrance was not lost on me, as it hung thick in the air when I stopped for the picture.

It was, though, nothing compared to the scent that greeted me when I stopped a little further down the road, at a spot where there's a great hedge of lilacs. It's quite spectacular, stretching three or four car-lengths, along a bend in the road. There's one pale flowered plant (like the one I showed you the other day), but the rest of the hedge is this darker variety...the shade of which was really popping on such a grey day.

We've had some off and on showers since late afternoon, though I noticed through the windows of the banquet hall that the sun returned, glorious and gold, just in time for sunset. But it rained pretty hard for the ride home.

At the moment, though, stars are visible everywhere in the sky.

Orioles Return

I was giving the garden a little attention this morning when I heard a familiar voice behind me. I knew it was about the time the orioles would be returning, but I didn't know if I should expect them here in this neighborhood. But there he was, a flash of orange, sitting up there singing to let us all know he had arrived. I'll have to pick up an orange or two to cut up and leave out for his enjoyment and use in courting.


I remember watching the oriole couples frolicking in the apple blossoms in Eastham. As it turns out, the apple tree outside the kitchen window is about to burst into flower, so we might be in for a similar show this year and right outside the window. The cat will have a happy stroke.

The larger, earlier purple tulips are starting to show a little signs of wear, but the smaller ones which have appeared alongside the first flowers are looking quite enjoyable.

I wouldn't mind if they all came up this size. Perhaps that's something I can look forward to as the bulb ages.

I hope you all will indulge me another long lingering gaze at these delightful bleeding heart blossoms. It's been so long since I've had one of these around. Does anyone else see Marlo Thomas as That Girl (but with pink hair) in these pendant little hearts?

Our neighbors to the west are almost never over there, so the grass and other denizens of the green are having their way with the backyard. Here's the view through a break in our own fence. It's a delightful sort of chaos that happens when plants get their way, isn't it?

That little splash of purple by the break in the fence is more money plant--it really does seed itself in everywhere. Oh, and I also took this photo to show you all the LEAVES which have suddenly appeared in the treetops all around!

Every spring this happens. Meteorologists apparently love to f*ck with me. They tell me we've got four out of five days coming full of rain and so I leave the hose and watering can aside for other pursuits. And then the storm changes track, or breaks up over Cape Cod Bay...and there's my garden, unwatered.

This week, it was supposed to rain Monday and Tuesday...and we didn't see Drop One of that. The storm moved out to sea, so all we got was some serious wind. And in a week where tropical cyclones and earthquakes have killed hundreds of thousands of people in other parts of the world, how do I find it in me to complain about a sunny day?

It hadn't been that warm, so I really wasn't too worried about watering...especially since it was still going to rain on Thursday and Friday. Now that schedule's been revised, too, with rain currently predicted/guessed at to show up Friday and last the weekend.

I'll be watering things in the morning, just to guarantee it.

Check out these crazy clouds over our street tonight. I swear I didn't photoshop them, but doesn't it look like the winds just going in all different directions?

The Color Purple

Sunday Garden Report

Here's those orange tulips soaking up the wonderful and warm sunshine we were blessed with today.

I enjoyed taking a cup of coffee out front in the warm early light to have a nice close look at the border, to see the progress of everything.

Just about every plant out there has gotten a bit taller, or sent out a second level of leaves.

But the biggest news, for me anyway, is the appearance of the first lilies thrusting their way out of the ground.

To the right is an asiatic lily stem. I actually spotted this one in the rain the other day, but wasn't able to get a proper photo until this morning. Since it was, I suspect (I didn't take notes while I was moving everything, so I can't recall with certainty how many other lilies made the move from Eastham), part of the bag of mixed lilies I planted earlier, I won't venture a guess about it's color or habit--that's just one of the things to look forward to over the next two months.

This one below, however, I know very well. It just appeared for the first time this morning and it is the Casa Blanca lily, oriental in variety (which means it blooms a little later, the flowers are larger...and the scent is exquisite.). This is one of my favorite flowers of the whole summer, and so I had carefully made note of where I planted this one during the garden move last fall.


Elsewhere, all the peony plants are coming along nicely, the larger ones already a foot tall or better. And today, I spotted the first tiny buds on a few of them!!

For a week or so now, I've been trying to get a good shot of the bleeding heart in it's setting, to show you how large it is, and how nicely it gets along with its neighbors.

There's an understory of purple and white violets, the single white daffodil I showed you the other day, and further away are the purple blossoms of money plant. Way in the distance against the fence, is evidence that--when I refer to my Great Big Hoe--I really do mean a piece of garden equipment.


Once my review of the troops was complete, I turned my attention to the morning glory seedlings inside. As most of them are already showing their third leaf--the first true one--I wanted to carefully get them into larger pots, since I don't anticipate putting them into the ground before Memorial Day weekend. I think eight out of a possible thirteen is pretty reasonable, as indoor amateur germination goes.

To make sure I've got a great crop of them this summer, tonight I planted another twenty-four of them!!

I leave you tonight with another look at the much-discussed slender speedwell. Say what else you like about it, the tiny flowers are terrific.

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.

Run For the Roses

Another beautiful day today...and such a lot to it. First off, it was Cinquo de Mayo, though I never did get around to a celebratory Margarita.

I'd have preferred a Mint Julep, but I wasn't in Kentucky...and anyway, our mint has only just started unfurling from the ground in the last 24 hours.


Here's a closer look at the blossoms of the money plant. Pretty, eh?


Out in the back garden, the sun had the latest tulips open wide in invitation of pollinators. I haven't seen any bees out here yet this year, though am keeping my eyes open for them.

I saw a pretty little orange butterfly the other day, and there are assorted other insects flying around, though.


I even got in about half an hour of tugging out more errant clumps of grass from the winter, in preparation for adding some fresh topsoil to the back garden beds in the coming week.


But pretty quickly, I had myself organized and on the road to Hyannis, for assorted errands and what turned out to be my own "run for the roses."

First, there was a visit to Le Mart de K for the purchase of the afore-mentioned top soil and a package of crocosmia bulbs, for blooms later in the summer. I'm a little disappointed that I was distracted from picking up a package of cannas in matching colors, but oh, well, all in good time.

Then a visit to Borders and also Newbury Comics--it was Free Comic Book Day, so impossible to pass that up.

And then on to Ocean State Job Lot, where I found two promising looking roses...a pink hybrid tea and a deep red flowered shrub...and a nice assortment of flower seed packets, to put that new top soil to work once it's been added.


And then off to work, where the cherry trees are in full-on bloom, and alive with bumblebees. Really nice to see them, as it is the first sighting for 2007.




This evening at Churchill Downs, there was the usual musical remem
brance of that Old Kentucky Home, a great thundering of hooves, and a dark bay colt named Street Sense and a jockey named Calvin Borel came from next to last to win this 133rd Kentucky Derby by two and a quarter lengths.

Good show, old chaps!

There's a frost warning for us tonight, so the roses (and a six pack of dianthus I made the acquaintance of last night) will stay in the relative safety of the car for the overnight.

Frost isn't such a bad thing, though, as I contemplate other weather alternatives, and spare a thought tonight for the folks in Greensburg, KS and Sweetwater, OK, who've suffered great losses in tornados there today.

Time to count those blessings!

Two Years Later

It's sort of a big occasion around here at the Midnight Garden, as we celebrate my second "blog-o-versary". I'm opting away from environment unfriendly balloons and streamers, though, and just going on giving you plenty of the latest bloomers!

Two years of blog postings, two years of living in this particular place...two years of gardening and watching and exploring. Long enough to have gotten to know these gardens, their rhythms and attractions, and long enough to have done something to encourage them.

Of course, these yellow primroses need no encouragement, coming on with their show whether I pay attention or not...and to be honest, I'd almost forgotten to look for them, tucked against the foundation of the house. Glad I did though.

Tonight I spied about a dozen new columbine plants in various gardens, the result of my spreading around the seed of a few large and floriferous plants in the back garden.

In a vaguely related note, I've come up with a plan to bring a bunch of the foxglove (it's legion out back...) up to the side yard, along the driveway, along with a bunch of the violet from the back house garden, and then later I'll scatter some columbine seeds in that part of the yard. I have a feeling they'll all take nicely there.

With another variety having joined the club, here's a class photo of some of the daffodils in the garden under the bedroom.

Not far from the daffodils are a few Money Plants (lunarius biennus) just coming into bloom. I had been mistaking them for dames rocket, until I compared foliage in some online photos. Dames rocket (hesperis matronalis) has a narrower leaf.

This is the stuff that makes the big round flat white seed pods later in the season, thus also earning it the names Silver Dollar, Bolbonac, Moonwort, and... interestingly enough... Honesty. There's some more in the front driveway garden, as well.

Near the daffs and honesty, there's a small stand of red and white Trillium, also known as Wakerobin one of my favorite springtime plants. I hope to carefully transplant this to a part of the garden which will showcase it a little better. At the moment, its humble nodding heads are almost lost behind the others. As it is, this photo was taken with the camera sitting on the stone path beside it.

Here's the view of our meadow, recently mowed for the season's start. If the last two years are any indication (not to mention the current level of the pond) this area should be flooding in soon. I look forward to that, since it might mean the return of the green herons I spied out there our first year in residence.

You can see another fantastic forsythia on the far side of the pond, glowing bright in the gathering gloom. The showers forecast for today never materialized. But it was sort of an overcast day here anyway.

Here's some more of my favorites, the grape hyacinths. These are coming up at the feet of some curly ornamental grass in the back garden, which I've not yet cut down from last year.

For a grand finale this evening, I present to you an interior view of one of my early species tulips. Quite something, hmmm?

Thanks to all those who've been visiting the blog these past two years(even if you don't always leave a note to say you've done so)--It's a pleasure to share the garden with you!!

Before the Rain Comes

With the details for the size of this weekend's storm firming up over the course of the afternoon, I wasted no time in getting out to do some gardening when I got home. 

After all, there's nothing like getting a whole lot of transplanting done just before the arrival of a real soaker. I know, it's lazy, but why not take advantage of what Nature provides, and get those major transplanting operations done on a handy schedule.

And so I rescued the last of our left behind garden friends from a garden that was not meant to be, but held them safe for the winter. The hosta "Big Daddy" was chief amongst them, only now visibly sticking out of the ground, along with an echinacea and some creeping yellow lamium that's a family heirloom of sorts. There were also two clumps of boltonia, an ornamental grass of some variety, a few of the foxgloves I'd raised from seed, a slip of coreopsis, a daylily, a handful of [I'll have to edit in it's name later, as I'm having a blank spot on it's name...nice ground cover...ajuga, that's the stuff!], a small fern and a whole bunch of lilies. Apparently those bulblets I carefully planted last fall had decided to succeed handsomely.

Anyway, I got them all transplanted in here, some in open parts of the old beds around the house, but many others into the new beds I'm just getting lined and dug out. God, it's fun to watch it all take shape. Actually, it's always reminded me of directing a play. Doctor Ruth was right: sometimes it is all about imagining a pretty picture and making it so.

By the way, that plan about Mother Nature watering in the new arrivals is working out quite nicely, as it's raining now. No one hopes for a spring storm with the ferocity this one might pack, though. We'll see what kind of winds we get, and be glad that those lilies are still fairly low to the ground.