The first colors of Christmas

Several years ago an old friend brought me a couple of strappy-leaved plants, called them bromelids and told me keep water in their cup-like center.  I stuck them in a pot,  dropped the pot under a tree in the backyard and let them enjoy our humid Alabama summer.  When winter came, I brought them into the house because my cold frame is not warm enough for tropical plants.  The plants had spread to fill the pot but I wasn't impressed with the greenery . . .  then those bromelids bloomed!   This unassuming plant puts on an amazing show every year at the beginning of December.

This year, the bromelid has been spectacular.  We had six blooms at one time; with a secondary blooming coming right behind the first one.  While not traditional Christmas colors, they are a show-stopper as we begin the holiday season. 

It was a tough year to be an Owari satsuma tree in central Alabama

This basket of oranges is the total harvest from Bob's Owari satsuma tree this year, in contrast to the 67 oranges we picked last November.

I can only speculate as to why there were only 10 satsumas.   The first idea that occurred to me was that the tree was merely "tired" as a result of last year's bumper crop.

My second thought was related to the delay in our spring warm-up; spring was about two weeks "late" this year.  Although the tree was covered in blooms, they were later than normal; perhaps we missed contact with the best polinators. 

Related to that idea, summer arrived right on time which meant that the tree had very little transition time between pollination and fruit onset.  Did the infant oranges die off in the rapid rise in heat and humidity?

I will probably never know what exactly went "wrong" for the satsumas.  To add insult to injury, we had an early hard freeze this fall, forcing me to harvest before the oranges were completely gold.  I had read that they can be considered ripe once they begin changing color but it was scary to pick all 10 of our satsumas while they were still partially green.

Regardless of all the challenges to growing citrus in our backyard this year, I can report that partially gold satsumas, fresh off our own tree are fabulously delicious!

Giving thanks

Among many other things for which I am thankful, I have been reflecting on the amazing creations of God that live in my own backyard.

All through the year I observe the infinite variations in plants, shrubs, vines and trees that grow in my backyard.  The breathtaking beauty of each plant and bloom reminds me of the awesome God who designed each one; including the millions of genetic variations that people have been able to draw out from the original designs. 

Recently, I attended a presentation on the intricate relationship between all the flora and fauna that exist within the small ecosystems of my suburban neighborhood.  There are plants that can only be pollinated by specific insects which only feed on certain plants.  Those plants and insects are often the particular food favored by native bird species.  Every plant and creature plays an important role in God's grand design. 

I am amazed and grateful to participate in my tiny corner of God's creation.

Frozen

Farewell, sweet clematis flowers.

While the Disney movie is adorable, in my very cold backyard this morning, the reality is not as pretty.  I am always saddened at the arrival of the first hard freeze because it means the end of the growing season for the year.

It seems especially disheartening this year as we have experienced night after night of sub freezing temperatures weeks before the cold normally arrives.  Even the hardiest of my fall bloomers cannot endure this.  I noticed that even the leaves on the trees have frozen and faded in the unusual freeze.  Our fabulous autumn faded to dull red and pale yellow in one night.

Since we also experienced a late spring this year, along with our early freeze, the entire growing season felt cramped and abbreviated. It was lovely while it lasted. 

Good-bye, cheerful chrysanthemums

 

Autumn in Alabama

Autumn has come to central Alabama.   The colors are amazing this year, although I seem to feel that every fall has the brightest display of color I've ever experienced.

While the maples, hickories, and sweet gum trees are the stars of the show, I've been noticing some of the supporting, backdrop colors in my backyard.  The branches of the cedar tree are bending under the weight of millions of metallic blue balls.  The leaves of the dogwood tree have been steadily darkening from lime green to burgundy, contrasting with their bright red seeds.   The nandina bushes are already beginning to look like Christmas, sporting giant clusters of red berries amid their glossy green leaves. 

There is just nothing quite like the visual feast of autumn in Alabama!

I refuse to clean up my "mess"

My backyard will not look neatly manicured this winter.  This is not merely because I'm lazy (I may be); there are some very good reasons why I let my plants finish out their annual cycle in the way God created them.

The seeds and berries provide food for the birds and critters who live here.  If I was a more patient photographer perhaps I would be able to capture the picture of tiny birds perched on the stalks of cone flowers and zinnias, enjoying a feast of sun-dried dried seeds.

While the birds feast, they also scatter dried seeds about in the flower bed, this saves time, energy and money since I won't need to replant these beds next spring.  The birds and wind will have done it for me.

Cutting back the stems of woody perennials in the fall permits water to flow down through the cuts into the root system, which could cause them to drown if we have heavy rains or freeze if we have an exceptionally cold winter or rot if we have a warm, damp winter.  By refusing to clean up the woody perennials I am saving them from the risk of death.

And it could also be that I'm just a little bit lazy and am delighted to discover good reasons for not doing fall "chores." 

Meet Wilbur

My pig has a name!  My friend, Elaine, recognized my pig's strong resemblance to E.B White's pig, Wilbur, in his book, Charlotte's Web.  Like my piggy, E.B. White's pig was doomed until he was rescued by a little girl and a spider who recognized that he was a "terrific" pig.   While doing a little research on Wilbur, I discovered that E.B. White wrote other books about Wilbur, including one called Wilbur's Adventure.  The book jacket illustration looks exactly like my pig.

My Wilbur has already had his first big adventure since arriving in my backyard; branches from the fallen oak tree landed just inches from Wilbur's head.  It was a very near escape.

Thanks to all my friends who suggested marvelous names for my little pig.