Letting Go of the Bay Leaf: Poppies

Showing posts with label Poppies. Show all posts

Sunday, August 28, 2022

Mosaic Monday #188: Garden Gala 2

And there's more! If you enjoyed last week's post, you will be drooling over this one! July is the best month for the native plants, especially toward the end of it. I wish I could distill July into a genie's lamp, and poof it into existence when people come to visit at other times of the year. I want them to see the garden in all its July glory. Perhaps I will just show them this post ... although in my heart I know it is not the same as seeing the real thing.

To the left is Rocky Mountain Penstemon, with Paintbrush in the background.

Keeping with the purple theme, below is Walker's Low Catmint and Salvia May Night. Both have terrific symmetry and a compact nature that is pleasing to the eye. I have several Catmint "volunteers" - I am just waiting for them to get big enough to move to other spots in the garden. And I have been delighted this summer to find at least two Salvia "volunteers". Isn't Nature just the best propagator of them all?

The collage below has a better view of the Salvia, with Aspen Fleabane in the foreground. The other photo puts the Fleabane in the spotlight, with Paintbrush bringing up the rear.

Blanketflower.

The first year the native grass seed/flower seed blend sprouted, we had numerous orange and red poppies, plus some pink ones. We have seen very few since, except this one that came up within the "formal" flower beds. I will take it! The groundsel occurs naturally, and I saw it on one of my many walks.

In last week's post, I might have mentioned that I am obsessed with the blue of the Flax?

I am also enamored with the sea of Coreopsis that blankets the rock steps below our kitchen and dining room. It doesn't look like much now, but in mid-July it is nothing short of glorious.

As July marches on, the Prairie Coneflower and Bee Balm come into their own.

Harebell can be found throughout our property, but usually I only find one bloom per stem.

We have two Mock Orange bushes. One had barely bloomed until this year, and the one below had twice the blooms as previous years, which I attribute to the abundant spring rainfall.

Toward the end of July, the Goldenrod bursts into color. I remember, as a child, thinking of Goldenrod as quite ordinary, a plant found on abandoned parking lots, among broken glass and discarded beer cans. Now I know better. Like many things, a plant needs the proper environment to be at its best!

Mexican Hat first appeared in the prairie in the summer of 2019, and it is propagating across our property quite nicely!

Black-eyed Susans also arrived as part of the native grass/flower blend, and the simplicity has its own beauty.

And sometimes you find an interesting blend - two species cross-pollinating?

White daisies, another gift from the prairie blend, have long-lasting blooms.

Aster and Russian Sage are the last plants to bloom, and they do put on a show!

Meanwhile, the grasshoppers seem to be more prolific this year, and one of their favorite hang-outs is the Russian Sage, nipping off the top three to four inches of the majestic flower spikes. Another opportunity to remind myself that they, too, are part of the ecosystem!

*** I will be slow in commenting due to a backcountry camping trip!

Mosaic Monday

Welcome to Mosaic Monday, a weekly meme where we get together to share our photo mosaics and collages.

Please include at least one photo mosaic/collage in your post.

The link will be open from 1 p.m. Sunday until 11 p.m. Tuesday (U.S. Mountain time).

Remember to add the link to your Mosaic Monday post and not the one to your blog.

Please link back to this post so that your readers will be able to visit and enjoy more wonderful mosaics; taking the MM blog button from my sidebar is an easy way to link back.

As host I will visit every participant and leave a comment so that you know I stopped by.

Please try and visit as many other blogs as you can, especially those that join in later, so that everyone's creativity can be appreciated fully.

Thank you for joining in today and sharing your mosaics with us.

Sunday, September 26, 2021

Mosaic Monday #149: Golden Days of Autumn

It's 8 am, and the sun edges over the hillside to my far right - every day, its appearance is later, and the arc of its daily journey is lower and lower in the sky. The golden coats of the aspens seem lit from within, a satisfactory outcome of shorter daylight hours and cooler temperatures. Mist rises in lazy curls from the lake's edge, as the warmer air over the water encounters the cooler surface of the land. Autumn has arrived, and I like it.

Numerous plants in my garden offer their seeds to all those who would help with propagation - birds, the wind, me, and perhaps even the grasshoppers.

Plenty of blooms remain in the garden, whether from plants that produce all summer, fall bloomers or young specimens that got a late start.

Many of my fellow bloggers showcase the beauty of their gardens with cut flowers displayed in stunning arrangements. I will admit to envy. Until this year, I did not feel comfortable harvesting any flowers, reckoning that every cut flower represented lost propagation opportunity. At a dinner party we hosted last week, I created a few posies with Aster, Prairie Coneflower, Russian Sage, Yellow Clover, White Clover, Aspen leaves, and Kinnikinnick branches with berries. I am learning what has staying power as a cut flower - Russian Sage is long-lasting; Aster? Not so much!

Wild mushroom hunters know that Autumn brings the prime season for collecting these delectables. Make sure you know your varieties, and pick responsibly. (Shaggy Mane Mushrooms first appear as white cylinders emerging from the ground, then the bell-shaped caps open out. Shaggy Manes should not be eaten raw.)

Autumn is as predictable as taxes, but Nature can still bring pleasant surprises. On June 22, a friend gave me some Autumn Crocus (Colchicum Autumnale) bulbs. Autumn Crocus? I had never heard of an Autumn Crocus! I planted them and gave them a little drink every three weeks or so. Imagine my delight when they started to emerge on September 14! Here's how they look today.

But we can be honored witnesses of these miracles only if we are IN Nature. This week, Dear Neighbor Friend and I braved the morning frost and fog to kayak. The lake had a serene quality, shrouded in mist so thick we could not discern any familiar landmarks. Only the sound of our dripping paddles accompanied us. Slowly, the lake's margins were revealed, and we glided silently along copses held firm by Alder, wild grasses, and Red Osier Dogwood. Hundreds of cobwebs glinted in the sun, seemingly bedazzled by a band of fairies overnight.

I marveled at the realization that the cobwebs have always been there, but it took the mist to unveil them to us.