roses from Buck
At A Glance: Light On A Slant
The 2012 fall equinox falls of September 22 this year. At that time, the sun is crossing the celestial equator, and the days will start to get shorter. As the sun igoes lower in the sky in the northern hemisphere, it illuminates everything it touches on a slant. Beautiful light, this.
grass amphitheatre
next to the last of the Sally Holmes
Little Ollie olive
lemon grass
Honorine Jobert beginning to bloom
tree geranium
hydrangeas
garden terrace
stone staircase
Posted on: September 16, 2012 1 Comment
At A Glance: Great Veins
Nervure-so you know this word? I didn’t either, until I started reading about plant veins. A nervure is a vein, or a rib. The veins, or ribs of a leaf, support the tissues that comprise a leaf. The ribs can be vascular bundles-meaning that they transport vital materials from one place to another. The science of travel and feeding aside, great veins endow leaves and flowers with a graphic beauty worthy of note. Nervure-I like the idea of a new word better educating me.
Coleus is noted for its leaf color. The dark veins in this coleus make a pattern, a fretwork-a map. Could not the layout and streets of a beautiful city be designed from such a map?
These yellow petunias have creased flowers-I doubt the lines I see are veins. Veins usually support leaf life. They move life giving nutrients from one place to another. They provide a structure that keeps a leaf parallel to the sun. They give that thin wisp of a leaf, or that incredibly thick leaf, some neccesary structure.
The veins of this alocasia leaf are prominent, as they need to be. An alocasia leaf covers a lot of square footage. The leaves are thick and heavy. Lacking the structure from veins, these leaves would collapse in a sorry heap. Lots of square footage requires strong ribs. Nature made provisions for this. Water and nutrients need to move along the supply lines provided by the veins to keep this big leaf healthy. Should I ever retire, this picture might inspire me to write a book about supply lines, food, water, healthy structures, flow-and the miracle that is nature-great veins. The alocasia leaf depends on its great veins to thrive.
Who knows why I had the idea today to take a closer look at the veins in leaves. That question aside, I am quite sure a love for the garden runs through my veins.
The veins in leaves are functional, and remarkably beautiful. Veins are a structure which is first and foremost a life line. Make of this what you will.
The structure of leaves varies enough to defy and confound the imagination. Those veins that empower those leaves-extraordinary. Make no mistake, I can barely keep up with what nature has in store. I so like this playing field. The miracle that is nature helps keep me awake.
If you have the chance, take a closer look.
Posted on: September 2, 2012 Leave a Comment
At A Glance: Home On Sunday Morning
The last two weeks have been incredibly busy and demanding. Multiple plans needing tuneups sufficient to submit to planning boards for permit review. A drawing for a fence for permit review. Landscape plans for a new house just about finished. A detailed proposal for a large garden sculpture. Big problems with drainage needing a big plan of attack, and small problems with the garden needing individual and very focused attention. The shop is on the brink of a change of seasons-this means new things coming in needing a place to be.
In the mix-Buck’s 65th birthday. We had friends from out of town. A party for 30 that included dinner. The flowers for those tables and a birthday cake.
My life is no different than anyone else’s. Everyone has much to much to attend to, and a time frame which is short. In the garden, the demands can be endless, and the work hard. It seemed like a good morning to just dawdle.
The morning light was so beautiful. And after all, I did need to water the pots. I dialed all the demands down, and took my time. The Corgis were impatient-they are used to leaving for work at 6am. I ignored them. The morning light, the peace and the quiet, was too beautiful to ignore. The pots have grown so much since May. That subtle color scheme that seemed so sleepy in the beginning has grown on me.
Light can wash over a landscape in a very soft and forgiving way. This Sunday morning was all about what looked good. What managed to be inviting. What seemed fine. I was not about to make a list, and rush to get through it.
The garden is a great place to putter. Meaning that I had no tools, no mission, and no task in mind, other than a little water. I had work to do in the afternoon for a Monday deadline, but that could wait a little while.
I am rarely home in the morning, so this was a treat. The days getting shorter means that soon enough I will be leaving the house in the dark.
I have been watching this pot develop over the past few months. The lemon grass is taking a leading role here. I had no idea it would grow this large, and grow so fast. Several weeks ago its spread was threatening to overwhelm its neighbors-I cut some out. That did not seem to slow it down one bit. It’s time to quit tinkering, and just enjoy the show. It has a very gracefully droopy look that I like.
My roses were terrible in June, and more than terrible in July. Given our cooler August nights and some rain, they have had the idea to grow and bloom some.
The driveway garden gets the lion’s share of my visual attention, given the daily coming and going. Everything looks remarkably happy, given how tough the summer weather has been. Plants are amazingly resilient. They show little sign of what they endured.
Out the front door, all seems well. The boxwood are flushing a second time-this a sure sign of how long we have had hot weather. The hydrangeas are loaded with flowers.
What a beautiful morning.
Posted on: August 26, 2012 8 Comments