Morning Memo

After a morning walk about, like the lord of his castle, I realize that much is happening in the garden, although some are not getting the memo. Directly next to the gloriosa lily is the support on which she is destined to climb, or so is my intent. Day after day I check in to see if the realization has set in. Not yet. Close, but so close. Maybe tomorrow.

My garden planting was late, the tuberose, gladiolus and other tender bulbs suffered the prolonged dormancy. Most successful were the gloriosa lily tubers and canna. The gardener is often reminded to be humble, if not for those occasional success stories we might not endure. 

Many others are right on cue, finishing June in grand style. My favorite newcomer (for me) is Lysimachia lanceolata var. purpurea, a Virginia native that spreads, growing 12 inches tall. Three weeks have passed since it first opened the tiny yellow flowers, where it grows at the feet of Echinacea 'Green Jewel' in a bed dedicated to native plants.

My rapidly spreading Asclepias verticillata has embraced several other perennials, a struggle is sure to come. Like a boa constrictor, I may need to add something of equal or more height to fend off the snaking roots. Ah, but she is beautiful.

The gray tree frogs are already transforming from tadpole to adult. I knew they could change their color to camouflage, but it seems that the texture of their skin may also alter. Here on a cinderblock wall, what appear to be goosebumps blend right in.

 The black swallowtail butterflies did get the memo. Lay eggs here, eat here. On bronze fennel and dill, they are happy.

Let's see how tomorrow goes. 

 

 

Comments

[Laura Stephens McDonald]

Still waiting for Black Swallowtails! The deer however found my sunflowers... Reinstalling fence and planting again - hoping for fall blooms!

[Karen Rexrode]

The deer ate most of my sunflowers last year. They love them. Hopefully some black swallowtails find you.

[Susan houser]

Been staring at my front garden thinking, hummmmmm, something didn’t come up. Now I know. My beautiful bronze fennel! Ugh

[Karen Rexrode]

I lost some of my bronze fennel too, but there was so much, it was a good thinning. It's always interesting how winter affects our gardens.