Showing posts with label daisy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daisy. Show all posts

Sunday, July 7, 2019

Oh deer

I was afraid this weekend that a fawn had taken up residence in our yard, after it stayed there overnight. Would it be "our" deer now? Were we to adopt it? Luckily, I needed not answer that question because it finally left in the morning.

Evening


Evening

Evening

Morning (deer in center of picture)


The most wonderful thing has happened in the front: a mystery snapdragon has appeared. The only time I have ever planted a snapdragon (and it was possibly only one) was in 2015! See https://aylwardgarden.blogspot.com/2015/05/spring-planting-front-yard.html
Could that four-years-ago snapdragon be the ancestor of today's snapdragon? Is it silly to get excited about one tiny, possibly immaculately conceived plant? I don't care, I'm thrilled! Wouldn't it be cool if it self-sowed and there were more next year? In the photo below, it is the pinkish-red blossoms at the bottom.



Several weeks ago, I was alarmed about things dying in the garden, but things have turned around. I even think some of my long-ago-sown pepper seeds might be coming up in front of the peony. I wonder if it was just simply too wet through mid-June. It's been a lot drier over the past 1-2 weeks.

Clockwise from crepe myrtle below: sage, rosemary, basil, cilantro.




Below: another couple blooms on my California Poppy 'Alba'! It's described as an annual but a self-sower....let's hope so! Also the self-sown purple Larkspur (being crowded out by the Shasta daisies).



Below, the sweet pea is climbing cooperatively up my netting on the lamp post.






Sunday, May 5, 2019

I made this seed bed...

A week ago Emma and I transplanted what was left of our mini-greenhouse seedlings (none of which looked too robust; I would say we waited too long), and I threw a lot of random seeds into the garden just because a moment was here and would pass and they'd never get planted if I didn't take immediate action. I remember foxglove and poppy and pepper and sweet pea seeds but was overall just not worrying about documentation. Sometimes you just have to see what happens, because you don't have time for careful plotting and recording.

But now I spend some time every day staring at the ground and wishing things would appear, and I'm fuzzy about what I'm expecting. There's a lot of green stuff sprouting, but who knows whether they are weeds or seedlings? I made this (seed) bed; now I must lie in it.

In other news:

Perennial tulips wide awake on Apr 23

Perennials tulips waking up on Apr 25

This is actually the first time I have spotted a rabbit on my property, remarkably, even though I have occasionally seen them elsewhere in the neighborhood. Just another critter to eat my beloved plants. Sigh.

A more welcome creature: mourning dove with fluffed feathers. Note the allium getting taller on April 28

Last year, I got a free pot, and when I emptied the soil, I found mystery bulbs. So I threw the bulbs in other pots just to see what would happen, and two of the pots sprouted these things. Lilies? Random weeds not from the bulbs at all?

If you look at the photo below, you'll see our azalea being glorious in front of the house, but my new favorite part of it is this random branch that has grown back through the other shrubs toward the house, such that I can see it from the front window, though not from anywhere else. Lovely!

May 1

What the heck made this huge hole on the right side of the front garden? Was it something burrowing, or just a deer stepping into a soft spot?

Poor dianthus

Lilac, obviously, but also transplanted Shasta daisies on the left, in front of hydrangea. The daisies have been getting a little uppity on the left side of the garden.

In front of the street number sign, there used to be a thriving anemone - now it is just sending up a very few tiny leaves. Will it recover? Close-up below. Interestingly, this was the anemone that replaced the one that didn't make it after the first winter when we redid this front garden.


I think this shrub is pretty, in front of 14 Brookside Dr., in Maplewood, on May 2

Another view

I passed these pots in the city on May 3. Love the Columbine.

The cherry tree blossoms are now more on the ground than the branches, like a fluffy pink carpet surrounding each tree. This is in front of the library.


Sunday, April 7, 2019

Garden happenings

Today was so lovely - close to 70 degrees, and mostly sunny. I dealt with the long-neglected compost, and did a lot of pruning. And then I just took a close look at everything and when you look hard enough, you see a lot of signs of life! It gave me a very glowy happy feeling. This is why I love gardening.

This was yesterday

I am crossing my fingers that these foreground plants might be self-sown larkspurs. Or they're weeds. We'll see!

These new alliums are looking great. I am looking back at a photo from Sep. 14 last year, and I am hopeful that what's sprouting anew between them is a transplanted foxglove from the backyard.

These are the alliums transplanted from the back garden - they are looking splendid and already sending up buds!

Daffodils are starting to bloom; geraniums are starting to leaf out. Looking back at a photo from last year, I am surprised and sad to see that a lot of daffodils didn't come back.

I think I planted these daffodils new last fall. I think.

Oh, the magnolia! It is so very splendid, just starting to bloom.

What mystery plant are you, in the foreground?

While my other peony is going gangbusters (see below), I was looking in vain for signs that this one on the right side would come back, and finally there is a shoot! It did not do well last year and I'm not getting my hopes up this year, but at least it's coming back.

Gangbusters peony

Perennial tulips in their second year

The poppies look very promising, and with any luck, the tiny seedlings between them will be self-sown larkspurs 

Wider-view shot of the poppies, also Shasta daisies in foreground (and a onesie daffodil I am always meaning to transplant). And baptisia in background, not yet looking alive.

I am not positive, but I am thinking here that one of last year's allium is not coming up in the front right, and the other one has made itself into two plants. 

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood





These are starting to look overgrown.

I believe it was a strong storm that tore the sweet peas from the post.


Mystery vine

Look! The portulaca grown from "let's see what happen" seeds sown last fall! (And note that the parsley next to it also fell into that category)

Monday, July 9, 2018

Persisting in the face of death and destruction

Before we delve into the ugliness, here is a lovely arrangement of salvia, lavender, and Shasta daisies on July 3 that still looks pretty good today.


And now let's get real, below: the vile deer have chomped the blooms off my new hydrangea. I don't think they've ever been after the hydrangea in back, so it didn't occur to me this was among their interests. But I looked it up, and sure enough, deer "occasionally severely damage" hydrangeas. So I have set myself up for failure, or a lot of anti-deer spray.


But now back to the soothing things that have not been eaten (yet) (and only thanks to anti-deer spray).

Cornflowers and zinnias.

Zinnias background; peppers foreground. Peppers are flowering now too.



July 3 - the unmolested hydrangea in back.


As it did last year (http://aylwardgarden.blogspot.com/2017/07/late-bloomers-and-revolting-beetles.html)  this rhododendron bloom so much later than the others. This is on July 4!

Speaking of late bloomers, the magnolia threw out a few additional blooms in the past few days, too. I'm not complaining. But I'm maybe a little confused.

The first tomato has been born in defiance of the squirrels that will surely spell its demise, not that I care, because I absolutely am not attached to my accidental tomatoes. [Inwardly steeling self for impending tragedy]

What is this hen-and-chick doing? Is this normal? OH MY GOD I JUST LOOKED IT UP AND IT'S GOING TO FLOWER AND DIE. No one prepared me for this agony.

This grasshopper(?). I have nothing good to say about him.