Then a glance through a season's photos, my but there's been some changes. It wasn't all bad was it?
The flower bed that started out like this in April. Weedy and bare. Grass creeping in.
At the end of summer, although not complete, the flower bed actually had flowers.
I still have frustration that this bed isn't complete. Part of me asks why it wasn't possible to finish the darn thing. But then, what's the hurry? Regardless of what I accomplish this season there will still be weeding, mulching and planting next season.
I was surprised and delighted to find how quickly columbine will grow from seed. On the far right of this bed you can see a bare triangle of dirt. I threw some columbine seed taken from my Bowen garden into that triangle patch. Would they take hold?
Obviously columbine seed has a fairly good shelf life. Several years and several moves later not only did the seed take hold they GREW.
|To the left and behind the hosta are the bright green leaves of columbine|
I recently discovered a lovely triumph. After a very hot and very dry summer I thought the transplanted spruce we put in the meadow and hedgerow might be done for. The grass and plants grew up around them and we couldn't find them to water during the summer months. They should have been toast. But in November as the grass died and fell back we discovered lumps of green. The shade of the weeds preserved these evergreens and they appear to be growing just fine thank you very much.
|These tiny spruce were planted in spring and then disappeared under a wave of grass.|
|Elderberry buds held such promise in spring. Now most of the branches have died.|
This is a dreadful photo but there's no point dressing it up, this plant looks awful. Buried in grass, some leaves at the base but otherwise dead branches poking everywhere. I'll try and clear out around it next season and dump some compost but I get the feeling this plant just doesn't like me. We were not meant for one another?
And then there's my never ending urge to dig things up out of the ditch and bring them home. You can blame my mother for that tendency. She never left home without a shovel. The problem is I never seem to know what it is I'm digging up. The Cornus alternafolia I was so gleeful about has turned out to be a Beech. Nothing wrong with that particularly. In fact, beech should be preserved as they are falling prey to canker and this one would otherwise have been taken out by roadwork that was completed shortly after I took it away.
|Those ridged leaves mean beech not dogwood!|