Yarrow and Yellow in the Yard

Yellow rose of Virginia.... sorry Texas.

“'Twas a yellow rose, By that south window of the little house, My cousin Romney gathered with his hand On all my birthdays, for me. save the last; And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough, For roses to stay after.” ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Aurora Leigh (bk. VI)

In Victorian flower language, a yellow rose meant or was used to convey jealousy. However, in the western U.S., the yellow rose came to symbolize a familiar, native and humble love, including feelings of home and domestic happiness, joy, and friendship.

Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) in my yard

"Thou pretty herb of Venus’ tree,
Thy true name it is Yarrow;
Now who my bosom friend must be,
Pray tell thou me to-morrow.”
~ Halliwell’s Popular Rhymes

The old Myth concerning the yarrow's name sake, Achilles, states that his Mother made a strong tea of yarrow and, at his birth, dipped him in it, thus making him totally invulnerable except for the heal that she held him by, the Achilles Heal. Another bit of yarrow lore declares that if you sew a bit of yarrow into a flannel pouch, place it under your pillow, and say this poem before going to sleep; you will learn the name of your future bride or groom in your dreams.

Placed in the garden it discourages beetles, ants and flies! If a handful is added to the compost it will speed up the breakdown of the plant material. In the garden it is a very good companion plant improving the health of all plants around it.

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ABC Wednesday ~ Letter "Y"

Annuals: To Plant or Not To Plant, That Is The Question

Lobelia erinus (Blue Cascade) & Calibrachoa hybrid (Yellow)

"To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy, than to attempt to fully understand." ~ Henry T. Tuckerman.

I have never been a real fan of annuals; those flowers that do not survive the cooler zones of winter. I've never loved the cycle that the yard guy does in the front beds... spring brings the impatiens or vincas and fall brings the pansies. For one thing, the impatiens don't really love the sun that much and they don't seem to spread well. In Mississippi, our house had quite a few trees which made growing a good lawn a problem (St. Augustine was almost the only grass to grow under those pines), but the impatiens grew and spread, sometimes to three feet tall and a few plants would fill an entire square bed, hiding the boxwoods. Not here. They don't really start filling out -- if they survive the heat and my antipathy towards them -- until September or October when it finally begins to cool off and at their height of blooming, the yard guy comes along and rudely pulls them up. He replaces them with pansies. Now, I love pansies much more than the impatiens; still, while pansies may bloom her in winter, they are wimpy. They really don't like the cold that comes with snow and spend much of the winter looking wilted or frost bit. It really is the spring... usually here this includes late February and March, perhaps into April... where they are at their best. I have managed to nurse a few along in a pot on the deck, but now in June, even these are on their last leg and wobbling. In the front beds, the pansies only start looking really good and trying to spread when March gets here. And again, at the height of their beauty, they are snatched up and replaced in May. The endless cycle. It seems wrong. And so this is why I seldom plant annuals... at least knowingly.

When Stephen was here, he found this hanging basket of bright yellow million bells (I think a petunia relative), blue lobelia and (not pictured) red flowers (the name escapes me.. this happens more and more with each passing year.. though I doubt I ever knew the name of the red flowers). They are all annuals and won't make it until next summer, but I have to admit they are beautiful. Downside... must be watered every day and I mean, everyday. You cannot be two hours late before they start to wilt. It must be something about the planter they are in because I have a homemade basket of million bells and petunias that is not this sensitive.

I love to see the plants and don't mind pruning back or deadheading (except tickweed which is tedious), but I really like to plant only once and then watch as the little shoots and stems poke through the ground in spring again. I tend to look like a giant mudball when planting, not my favorite thing to be. So I tend to plant perennials. However, this year the monarch and black swallowtail have been slower to show up and my fennel is six feet tall, just waiting for some caterpillars and the milkweed overfloweth and the bees of all types are having orgies in the bee balm and lavender and agastache. So where are they? On the annuals. On this plant.

Black Swallowtail with red... verbena?

Perhaps I SHOULD plant a few more annuals... sigh.

(end of post)
Mellow Yellow Monday
Ruby Tuesday

Hot Lips

Salvia x microphylla 'Hot Lips'... a changeable diva!

"If one consults enough herbals...every sickness known to humanity will be listed as being cured by sage." ~ Varro Taylor, Ph.D. (herb expert)

We already had a large pot with a bush sage planted and growing and showing off the bright red blooms that are so irresistible to hummingbirds; but this little gem was too gorgeous to pass up. I nestled it between the milkweed and the coneflowers and it loves the area. When first planted, the little flowers were totally red; but as the days grew hot, the flowers changed color....

From a deep crimson red all over......

.....to a fabulous stripe of red against a background of pure white... very 'Hot Lips' indeed. According to several sources, the flowers may also be all white -- pure as the winter snow-- if you want to believe such a saucy flower can do so. I am going to try and collect some of the tiny seed and see what I can do with it. For now, the flowers are going strong and the hummingbirds have been dining, as have the bees and a few butterflies.

This is a variety of sage, though not the typical herb used in cooking. Still, when you crush a couple of leaves together or break off a spent flower stem, the aroma of pungent sage is left on your fingers and in the air. Heavenly.

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Ruby Tuesday

My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose

Mr. Lincoln... hybrid tea rose.

"O, my love is like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my Love is like the melody,
That's sweetly played in tune."
~ Robert Burns (1759-1796)

We've had a spring -- a real spring -- with cool temperatures and moderate rain and then the yo-yo factor thrown in. As a reward punishment, we now have summer -- late summer, July and August summer -- with temperatures approaching triple digits, the air heavy with humidity, and no breeze to speak of. Plants are confused and befuddled, as are the butterflies. The black swallowtail have still not bombarded the fennel as last year and I have only six monarch caterpillars chomping away on the milkweed, safe in the sunroom. Each day, I expect the Japanese beetles to show up in the delicate roses (the black spot has already arrived); so I enjoy each small triumph of bloom on the rose as it happens. Mr. Lincoln was planted last year and gave one bloom, a glorious bloom to be sure, but only one. This year, two. Twice as many deep garnet soft petals, captured in digital image but now gone, whisked away by a fleeting gust of wind. Perhaps it will surprise me and produce more; yet, if not, I will be grateful for the rich ruby light it added to our day.

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Ruby Tuesday

Sensational Sizzle; But, Short Stature

I had to call these my "munchkin" tulips.

"The flowers of late winter and early spring occupy places in our hearts well out of proportion to their size." ~ Gertrude S. Wister

I planted tulips this year...literally, I planted them THIS year... 2011... even though I was supposed to plant them in November 2010. As usual, I have an excuse..explanation for my tardiness. For one thing, I tend to be tardy on planting whether it is seed, bulbs or plants. Other life gets in the way, it's too hot, it's raining, my strangely unique anti-tick outfit is in the washer, it's snowing and too cold; these are just some of my rationalizations. This year it was the snowing and cold thing.... but, really, it WAS snowing and TOO cold to plant the bulbs. My bulb bag said that for our area they should be planted the last two weeks of November and I had the bulb planter and food and all the things ready. The second week of November was a typical balmy coastal Virginia late fall week. Then it all came to a screeching halt... it got cold... really cold... cold enough for a two inch snow to stick. And it didn't really warm up... perhaps it got above freezing in the day a bit, but still the north wind blew and at night it was cold. I quickly got reams of bubble wrap and wrapped all the patio plant containers and covered the bottoms and tops of the soil. I moved Japanese maple tree (the one in the pot) and others to the south side of the patio next to the brick wall and the leaves that had blown up on the patio.. I gathered them all around the wrapped pots for an added layer. I grouped all the wrapped pots together in protected corners and even tried to wrap the mock orange bushes ... but knew that at a hardiness level of 20 - 30℉ they would not likely make it and they didn't. Other plants I brought inside.

With all this hustle and bustle at the unexpected cold snap... I forgot about the tulips, but only for four weeks. Yet, alas, it was too late. We had a couple of insignificant... at least insignificant for those in northern states... snows in the weeks before Christmas and much colder temperatures than usual. Here at the coast with the Gulf Stream it is not unheard of to have temperatures in the 50's and 60's at Christmas time. But this year it was COLD! The ground froze... I tried to plant just before Christmas and my bulb planter would not get past the mulch... the ground froze... it really did. We even had that frost heave they speak of where water gets in the soil and freezes, expanding and pushing up little bits of soil. Then it snowed twelve inches on Christmas night and the day after... and January was just as cold as December. So, it was February... the middle part.. before I managed to get them in. The bulbs had started to sprout in the garage, but at least they seemed viable. So I planted them.... 97 around the two trees in the front of the house.

The daffodils come up in March, early... and the tulips just after them. Everyone else had tulips and I finally started seeing the little pointy shaped buds pushing up out of the mulch... then the leaves started to form.... but no flowers. Across the street was a stand of tall shapely tulips... long slender stems and bulbous cup shaped red flowers swaying when the breeze blew. Mine... nothing. Then one day I saw a dash of red on the ground and thought it was a piece of trash blown into the yard. I checked and to my surprise.. it was a tulip! At ground level! No stem to be seen at all! A few days later... another... same size... and another and another. Pretty soon I had a bevy of blooms... sitting right on top of the leaves and less than three inches off the ground. They were supposed to all be red... they weren't... some were pink and some were purple with white stripes. But all of them were munchkin... short... petite.... very strange looking. I'm sure I saw people driving by twice trying to figure out exactly what they were.

I learned one thing... well, maybe two. First, did you know that after you cut a tulip the stem continues to grow for a few days? I didn't. But after the blooms were spent... the stems on my tulips decided to grow... about 8 inches. And again... people would wonder what these things were. The second thing I learned is... no matter how afraid I am that the bulbs will come up too soon in our usually warm winters and then be hit with a late spring freeze... I WILL plant my bulbs this year in the first week of November... NO MATTER HOW HOT OR COLD IT IS!

Oh, yes... I forgot... to get these pictures I had to lay down on the ground with the camera....again, neighbors wondering.......

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Ruby Tuesday

Spring Fireglow

Early Spring.. emerging embers.

"Tree, gather up my thoughts
like the clouds in your branches.
Draw up my soul
like the waters in your root.

In the arteries of your trunk
bring me together.
Through your leaves
breathe out the sky."
~ J. Daniel Beaudry, Breath

"Fireglow", if ever an appropriate name for a tree... this is. It is probably ten years old with three trunks and survived the move and planting last summer's end. At the nursery and when first planted, the leaves were only tinged with red, mostly green. I babied it, this tree that is my brother's pride and joy... watering carefully... not too little and not too much. How many phone calls to the master gardener at the nursery to see if all things being done were all right.... what about this tiny cut in one of the trunks... does it need anything....when to fertilize... when to cut back on watering... do I prune back those scraggly limbs that lost their leaves in transit? Then fall arrived and with it the flaming red of the leaves... but it was dry and there had been so much heat and stress and still it was hot and the leaves seemed small and curled on edge... will it survive? This tree held on to its leaves well into November, far later than all the other standard maples in the yard. It took in the snow and the winds of winter and I thought it would be late leafing....it was, or at least I thought it was. The standard maple put out its buds and little flowers a full month before any buds were seen on the "Fireglow". But then the standard maple had to form its seeds and these hung around forever... in the meantime, Miss "Fireglow" quietly budded with tiny small red flowers and equally small red seed flyers and then tiny perfectly folded and shaped red leaves began to emerge in quick succession... bypassing the standard maple and.....

April sun....flourishing fiery glow!

....bursting forth in the most deep, garnet red collection of leaves I have ever seen. The leaves larger this year, not shriveled or green... and when the sun shines through the canopy it takes your breath away.... "Fireglow"

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Ruby Tuesday

Lovely Little Ladybug, Coming Soon to a Garden Near You

Will ladybug season be early or late?

"The ladybug's a beetle.
It's shaped like a pea.
Its color is a bright red
With lots of spots to see.
Although the name is ladybug
Some ladybugs are men.
So why don't we say "gentleman bug"
Every now and then?"
~ Author Unknown

I love ladybugs... so round and bright and spotted.. and wonderful to keep the aphids off the roses. In these parts, the garden centers get their crop of ladybugs around the first of May.. though the aphids show up earlier. They are voraciously hungry and very efficient, as within a day or two they manage to eat all the aphids. Unfortunately, they usually move on, even though we have put out special ladybug food to entice them to stay. I love to see them walking along the rose stems and seeing the tiny aphids scattering as fast as they can. Now, if only someone would find a bug who loved to eat June bugs.... they are more destructive to the roses than the aphids.

One warning about June bugs.... DO NOT use those hanging sac traps.... all they do is attract the June bugs to the trap... AND YOUR YARD! I hung one out last year and in the time it took to go in the house, look them up on the computer and read about the pitfalls... fifteen June bugs had committed suicide by entrapment. But there were even more on the roses. Apparently, the only way to effectively use these (and then only if you really dislike your neighbors) is to give them to neighbors several houses away.... let the beetles be attracted to their yards. This really is not a nice neighborly thing to do. I did read that you could collect them in a jar of dishwashing liquid and water and then blend them up into an emulsion and spray the mixture on the plants. The writers said this would repel the June beetles; I guess no one like to nibble with the scent of one's relatives around.

My shade garden is returning... columbine about to bloom, ferns curling up spirals from the mulch, the astilbe leafing out and even the leaves returning to the hydrangea.... now... hmm... is it purple with acid or basic fertilizer. I did it wrong last year and the flowers were pink... pretty but I wanted purple with green centers. And the irises I planted last year... those I took from our old house... those that I thought would surely perish since I left them in plastic wash pans with no dirt for three years... those that instead multiplied and turned 50 plants into 175....well, it looks like at least some of them will bloom this year. And with my brother coming home in late April... he will get to see them in their glory!

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Ruby Tuesday

The "Yo-Yo" Season

Male cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) and common finch (Carpodacus mexicanus)... winter bright spots.

"You have to believe in happiness,
Or happiness never comes ...
Ah, that's the reason a bird can sing -
On his darkest day he believes in Spring."
~ Douglas Malloch, You Have To Believe

The weather has evolved into what I call our "YO-YO" season. Finally, the temperatures reached 50℉ for a few days and then it was back into the low 40's for a while with a four inch snow just two weeks ago. Then there was this past Friday... a balmy, sun-drenched but slightly breezy day more reminiscent of late May or early June; temperatures soared to 78℉. I started pruning back the roses and cutting back the remaining winter debris and (drum roll please).. I planted 100 tulips. I know. Late again. But at least this time the bulbs weren't completely mushy and all had started their sprouting process in the garage. We'll see.

Yes, I have once again strayed off subject.. weather. So, Friday was warm enough to get a sunburn... Saturday was still in the 60's but the wind was no longer a breeze but a stiff gale with gusts and blowing in from the north and west. I opened a window to about six inches in Nyssa's room and one in Stephen's room and my room to get a nice cross breeze. With this six inch opening the wind was strong enough to blow papers off a dresser in the room's interior.... I finally put a paper weight on them. So, Saturday felt brrrrrr cold.. simply from the wind chill. Sunday... highs back in the low 40's. Today? The mercury topped out at our house around 76℉. Wind was predicted with this but for most of the day.. it was really calm, cloudy and most pleasant. I worked outside pruning all the potted plants and finishing up the roses.

Around 4PM I was sitting out on the deck and taking photos of the titmouse, nuthatch, chickadee and the downy woodpeckers that decided to visit the feeders and just enjoying nature. The change was dramatic and sudden. From complete calm to a sharp wind from the northwest. From 76℉ and feeling comfortable in a short sleeved summer shirt to feeling a deep and slightly damp chill in the air. The temperature fell almost 20 degrees in just under an hour.. you could sit and watch the temperature sensors number fall like a rock. By 9PM it was 40℉ outside and windy. This wasn't a normal cooling on a clear day when the evening creeps in.. it has been cloudy all day. It was definitely a cold front and a strong one... so far, no rain; but I see on the map that once again places north and east of us, in Delaware and Maryland, there is ice and snow. I have seen fronts come through before, but have never personally experienced such a sudden change in the air temperature and wind speed in such a short time. Fronts come and go.. this one was physically noticeable.

You see the "YO-YO" don't you...78...62...40....75....45....etc. Such is late winter in coastal Virginia. I think these birds, however, will like it just fine... as long as no more snow comes our way.... yo-yos they can handle.

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Ruby Tuesday

Red Hot in the Greenhouse

After blizzards and ice storms, we could all use a little something "red hot".
Norfolk Botanical Garden. (Click picture to enlarge)

"Annette looked at the geraniums, very red against the blue sky.
'No matter how I try, I cannot find any thread of such a red. My bleeding hearts drip stuff muddy in comparison.'" ~ Amy Lowell, “The Basket” in Sword Blades and Poppy Seeds

Gray is the color of the day, the week, the month, the season; everything seems gray outside.. the grass, the trees, even most of the birds. Our snow melted and either ran off the yard or soaked into the dirt/clay mixture we generously call topsoil around these parts. Add to that a couple of inches of rain over two days and then more freezing temperatures before a single solitary balmy day that warmed to 70 degrees before plunging back down into the lower 30's and you have a recipe for frost heaving. Of course, those five crazy squirrels that keep busy digging and burying who knows what might have something to do with it. And it probably didn't help that last summer was horrible with the grass... too dry, too wet, too acidic, too basic, too.. well, just TOO. A layer of compost and heavy reseeding helped a lot, or would have had the monsoons not arrived the day after the seeding. Yes, they came and reseeded again... just before another monsoon session and a short time before that November freeze hit. Now, there are just small little tufts of compost/topsoil scattered around the yard with hibernating (hopefully) grass seed still visible in areas. Before the deep freeze the grass looked nice and green, but now it is spackled with a drab green and dead-gray. It's not dead... it's just resting.. that's my story and I am going to stick with it.

I was going to have tulips this spring.. bright red big glorious tulips. I was going to plant them on time this year... those 100 tulip bulbs.. around the trees and in the flower beds. I was going to get over my fear of planting bulbs here, having them come up too soon with the warm winter weather we usually experience and even risk them getting hit with a freeze just as the buds were beginning to form in the spring. I was going to plant them in November, just as the instructions said.. late November.. not in February or March as I did last year. The operative words are... "I was going to." But...the cold came and multiple small snows and more cold and the ground froze. I tried to plant them, really I did.. but the ground was too hard to dig in.. even the cutting bulb planter wouldn't make it into the ground. So...

I'll plant them late, just like last year and they will come up and make nice foliage and that's it. No blooms. No red. No respite from the gray of winter until the daffodils that have been planted for two years now come up. What to do? The only thing I can do... go to the botanical garden. Even though the butterfly garden is bare and wildflower field cut low and though the azaleas and tulips and daffodils are yet to emerge... they DO have a greenhouse for tropical plants. And though they are not tropical, the geraniums are blooming with the big balls of radiant red blossoms. Next to pastel orchids and bright masses of background greenery, they pop with fire and with the fire, heat. And my goodness, don't we need the heat this winter!?

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Theme Thursday ~ "Red"

Field of Rainbows

Yearning for summer flowers. Norfolk Botanical Garden.

"Everything is both simpler than we can imagine, and more complicated that we can conceive." ~ Goethe

In the middle of winter with the bones of nature rattling in the preserve, I yearn for the gorgeous flowers of summer. The botanical garden here has a huge field of wildflowers with a white washed rough hewn fence that is beautiful in summer and fall. The colors of the rainbow shine out from the foliage and the mixture of reds and yellows as well as purple and white are just lovely. I know that the red flowers are bee balm or Monarda, but I'm not sure about the yellow or purple. Most of these are either perennials or annuals that reseed themselves and the garden suggests this as a "wild" natural yard alternative. If I had a huge yard with three or four acres of land, I would let one of them become a beautiful and wild, complex and simple field of rainbows like this.

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People Who Have The Most Birthdays Live The Longest

The "??th" anniversary of my 30th birthday.

"You know you're getting old when you stoop to tie your shoes and wonder what else you can do while you're down there." ~ George Burns

I was trying to get through the anniversary of my birthday with as little fanfare as possible... then Judy spilled the beans on Facebook and floods of "happy birthdays" flowed in. So.. with much gratitude at such an outpouring of well wishes.. I say "Thank You!" You notice that I don't celebrate my birthday, but rather the anniversary of my birthday... my 30th birthday. I won't reveal what anniversary we are up to now, but let's just say that in a few, a very few years I will have to start celebrating the anniversary of the anniversary of my 30th birthday. Why 30th? Oh, I don't know.. it just seems like a nice round young number.

Laziness was the theme this year. I slept through half of it, but then my cousin David was on Skype the night before and we talked about everything for a very long time and it was almost time to get up before I finally went to bed and at my age, well.. you really need those eight hours of sleep. My brother called from Vienna, jet lagged from a 14 hour flight and with a cold from rabid fans in Japan. When Daisy and I finally dragged our ragged bodies down stairs I found two beautiful arrangements... one from my baby girl, Nyssa and one from my brother. Yellow roses and sunflowers to brighten the day from Stephen and an edible arrangement of the sweetest strawberries you have ever tasted in January, bananas dipped in white and milk chocolate, sweet red grapes and mellon balls. Oh, yes... flower shaped pineapple with melon ball centers as well and in such a cute teal green vase. I took pictures of the fruit and a good thing I did too... I ate them... all of them and they were great! The roses and sunflowers are still brightening the winter days... we had a bit of sun on Saturday but now clouds and rain are on the way for this evening. Still cold.

Mom decided to take Dad and I out to a fancy restaurant, The Vintage Tavern, for our birthday celebrations. You know it is a fancy restaurant when the first thing they do is exchange the perfectly good tan napkins for black napkins because you are wearing dark skirts or pants and you might get fuzz from the napkins on your clothes. It was an amazing meal... the menu is seasonal. So we had oyster stew, salad...watercress greens with fennel, sweet grapefruit centers, blood oranges and goat cheese with a creamy pomegranate dressing..broiled flounder over soft onion spoonbread with capers and cream sauce and sauteed mushrooms. At least, that is what I had. Dad had some of their gourmet mac 'n cheese as well and Mom had scallops, special cooked spinach and her scallops were over grits and with an orange puree that I think had carrot in it. We shared a creme brulee for desert. Mom paid the bill...she said this was Dad's birthday meal too, even though his will not be until February. We left the restaurant in what could only be described as somewhere between a waddle and a roll and I was still not hungry again well into Sunday afternoon.

So, thanks to all who helped make the "??" anniversary of my 30th birthday a raging success. At this age a success means you lived through it. Now, we continue... and another 12 months before we have to face it again.

"We've reached an age that when construction workers stare at us it's because they figure we might be considering a remodeling job." ~ Susan McClellan

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The Holly Bears A Berry...

Deciduous holly... winterberry, Norfolk Botanical Garden
(Click picture to enlarge)

"The holly and the ivy
When they are both full grown
Of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown
O' the rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry harp
Sweet singing of the choir.

The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To do poor sinners good.
O' the rising of the sun
And the running of the deer
The playing of the merry harp
Sweet singing of the choir."
~ Cecil Sharp, The Holly and the Ivy ( 17th Century Christmas Carol)

"It was a grey and dismal day"...as it does seem to be so often in winter and without the clean blanket of white snow to offset the damp and rain. We have entered that time of year when you can "feel the bone structure in the landscape" (Andrew Wyeth) and when the trees clack and crack together as the strong north wind blows. Everything is gray.. the sky, the tree trunks, even the grass that tends to stay a greenish tinge all winter here, seems gray. And yet when you look closely, you can find pops of color here and there.

Now is the glory of the holly. We mostly think of the evergreen holly with the scalloped spiny leaves and red berries often tucked in between the leaves and visible only upon close inspection. But my favorites (besides the soft evergreen varieties) are the deciduous hollies or native winterberries. I have seen these grow into tree forms and in the midst of winter you can see group plantings of them with branches covered by bright red berries. When framed by a gray winter sky, these pop with red fire and warm the space around them. The roses and coneflowers may rule the summer... but these holly are the queens of winter.

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Rosemary For Remembrance

Rosemary and holly...Colonial Williamsburg Christmas spray.

"Winter, a lingering season, is a time to gather golden moments, embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour. " ~ John Boswell

I was strolling through my Christmas pictures from Colonial Williamsburg and down the lane lined with memories associated with each one. This particular arrangement had been passed by and passed over many times without a pause to study or reflect on its beauty. Perhaps it was that this was the first summer past that I had really gardened at our new house or perhaps I simply had not noticed the rosemary before, thinking the greenery, often overlooked, was simply some other form of evergreen... at any rate, the rosemary suddenly lunged out of the screen and grabbed me.

The Colonial Williamsburg wreaths are all made of natural materials that grow in the area... except for the pineapples, I think they ship them in and did so even in Colonial times. I'm used to seeing wreaths of pine and fir and even magnolia leaves but it never occurred to me that rosemary would make such a lovely arrangement. I planted a bush rosemary and an upright rosemary in the flowerbeds and in a patio pot this summer and have discovered that they thrive in the cooler temperatures of fall and even winter. When most of the other plants have lost their color, the rosemary, sage, parsley and even the fennel (minus the black swallowtail caterpillars) has weathered the cold and the snow.

More sturdy than the fine feathery yarrow leaves and yet more delicate than the stiff and sticky fir, the rosemary finds that balance to support the strawflowers, red holly berries, lotus pods, golden yarrow and that one dried artichoke in the center. I think it is a lovely spray and what a heavenly fragrance as well. Rosemary is considered the herb of remembrance; how could I have passed it over so many times?

"As for rosemary, I let it run all over my garden walls, not only because my bees love it but because it is the herb sacred to remembrance and to friendship, whence a sprig of it hath a dumb language." ~ Sir Thomas More

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Fireglow

Japanese Maple... "Fireglow"

"A solitary maple on a woodside flames in single scarlet, recalls nothing so much as the daughter of a noble house dressed for a fancy ball, with the whole family gathered around to admire her before she goes." ~ Henry James

I read about the Japanese maple before the nursery fellows came to plant our tree. Stephen bought a ten year old tree, three trunks and I was nervous. The nursery delivered it on a large truck, they dug the hole, fertilized and planted it carefully. I watered it faithfully with the soaker hose, twice a day for three weeks and then once a day for another two weeks and then our more rainy season began. It has smallish leaves, but not as lacy and delicate as the weeping Japanese maple we have in the patio container. They said this was one of the most red of the red varieties and I kept waiting for the leaves to turn and fall.

It finally turned a flaming red for fall.

The color started to really change around late September. By this time almost all of our other standard maples had lost their leaves due to the extreme heat of the summer. But not this Japanese maple. I read some more... and discovered that this variety clings to its leaves until the beginning of December. For two months we were graced with a brilliant show of red.... flaming like fire as the sun shines through the canopy.. and then... on December 1st, they started to flutter to the ground; slowly at first and then at a more frenzied pace as if they were in a race for some grand prize. At the end of one week and just before the first and early snowfall, they were gone... scattered in the wind, mulched back into the grass... leaving behind the bare limbs of winter, ready for that first touch of white.

So these are for my brother Stephen.. pictures of his flaming red tree. He had to leave before they changed color, before they flew, before they "flamed" out for the winter. And now, I sit and hope they bud again this spring. Never before has one tree made me so anxious!

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Ruby Tuesday