“…the present is all lit up with eternal rays.”
I have a soft spot for glads, and even though I tried hard not to buy any more seeds or bulbs this year, a bag of these were on sale for two bucks (down from seven!) at an Aldi or Lidl late in the spring. What a bargain!
They are almost fluorescent. We’ll see if they all come in true to color (the dahlias certainly did not) but if so I have about 12 in this bed, fingers crossed. The deer love them (like irises) but when I remember to spray the anti-rabbit/deer stinky stuff at least once as they start to bloom, it keeps them off, albeit eating other things I don’t want them to eat, but so it goes.
My grandmom’s roses (actually a bush she gave my mom, which struggled in her backyard for 50 years thereafter & is now a smidge happier), formerly seemed very red but appear a bit ordinary as background of these glads.
Another extremely exciting development is sighting what may turn into flowers on my passionflower vine. I say ‘vine’ but the two seeds I finally got to grow last year (second year of trying) flipped the switch to invasive — they are everywhere throughout their bed and into the yard as well as down the fenceline. I don’t mind too much, since their purpose is or will be medicinal more so than flowers, and in fact have put some on another edge of the potting shed and a few around the mailbox with the tiger lilies, hydrangea, and gold mound spirea. (Somehow our savage deer haven’t murdered the hydrangea… yet, but it was a dying plant given me by a sister, so its survival makes me happy.) Back to the passionflower that’s possibly starting to think about flowering:
They grow via runners underground (like briars) so have popped up coming forward from the patch pictured below, and down to the side along the fence, and a few spreading up toward the breezeway. The dirt in this bed is awful (I still have not yet gotten to my early spring project of widening and improving it) so it may simply be seeking nutrients, although you can see the original roots aren’t being shy about putting up a wall of optimists. If last year was any indication, they’ll jump off this measly trellis, reach over to the drainpipe, and head up to the second floor, but they are weak vines that die back to the ground in winter, so no harm done. This suggests the profusion, from one last year to this year’s crop
They’ll eventually need to be discouraged, since I have poppies, calendula, and chamomile struggling along nearby, plus a few other things, but for now I’ll let them get their feet under themselves.
Down in the actual garden, a volunteer squash - or so I thought - has not turned out at all as I had expected. We have never grown anything remotely like this, so it must be from a hybrid I mistakenly planted in the early years. These are all on the same plant:
So, never a dull moment. Speaking of excitement, I meant to write this post yesterday, a morning surely lit with rays of eternity, but on so many days by the time I get back inside from my morning tour, the tasks of the moment distract me, or I need to look something up (like that quote), or I start a post and one of those things or something else happens in the middle. I must have five other posts half-written. Yesterday it was the need to celebrate shooting another groundhog from the family of juveniles that had figured out they were still small enough to get through the higher, larger spaces of the fence. That’s two this week, thankfully for my sweet potatoes (which will grow back). So I didn’t get any of this written, nor document the exciting first test of my new scuffle hoe, installation of elecampane, or progress on the second self-watering box (DIY of course).
Rather than think of a grand flourish to finish, I’ll wrap this one up as I finish a second cup of coffee and figure out containers to pot up my tiny alpine strawberries. It’s going to be another day of thick hot heat so not another minute to waste.
Happy July!