The garden awakens

One of the best seasons in Alabama is springtime.   While many places in the USA are still struggling with snow, ice, and cold temperatures, February in Alabama is when the daffodils and forsythia bloom and the buds on the trees begin to swell in anticipation of summer.

I enjoy the daffodils and forsythia and eagerly await the first crocus blooms near my front steps, but there is also a sense of great excitement in the air as the spring growth begins to emerge from its winter sleep.  I can almost feel the ground quiver as my garden awakens to spring.

As I strolled through my backyard, I found flowers and tender green shoots rising to meet the spring sunshine.  Enjoy the bright daffodils, but also take the time to look for the quieter signs that the garden is waking.

Henbit heaven

In Alabama, weeds are seasonal.  We have summer weeds, spring weeds, fall weeds and even winter weeds. 

The winter weed that plagues my backyard in the worst way is henbit.  No matter how diligently I weed and mulch during each previous winter, the henbit comes back enthusiastically the following winter.

This year is no exception.  My henbit crop is absolutely heavenly.  In its defense, I must remind myself that henbit is highly prized by honey bees as an early source of pollen.  This year, we also discovered that our African sulcata tortoise, Mordecai, thinks it is a delicious treat too.

Winter Resort

Two ladybug beetles have taken up residence in our bathroom this winter.  Ladybugs are notorious for sneaking into human homes by the dozens to escape winter's chill.  They are relatively harmless and surprisingly difficult to remove because if you crush them, they release a permanent yellow stain and some of them release an unpleasant smell.

Bob and I have been enjoying our bathroom guests.  They are quiet and cute.  

We have hosted a few other critters in the past; the most memorable was a little tree frog who wintered in the bromelids.  As long as they don't make a mess and and don't bite, we enjoy our winter guests.

When spring comes, I'll coax them into a box and release them back into the garden.

Just in time

We are experiencing a chilly winter in central Alabama this year.  We've already had one significant snow event in December, with another one predicted for later today.  Temperatures continue to be much colder than normal for this part of the world.

In addition to that, I started a new job this fall and the project we are working on has required me to work six days a week.  Between the extreme cold (for us) and long work hours, I haven't been able to spend much time outdoors.

But God has a way of giving us just what we need at just the right time to bring us joy during the challenging times.   This very week, my precious Noble dendrobium orchid burst into bloom.

I've posted about this orchid before.  It amazes me that this orchid seems to thrive under my less-than-expert care.  Seeing its fabulous blooms remind me of my dear friend, Pam, who went to be with the Lord this fall.  She was an orchid expert who had confidence in my ability to care for this plant when she gave it to me several years ago.  When winter is at its worst, cold, wet and generally miserable, these gorgeous blooms grace my home.

Remind me of summer days

Now that we are headed into the darkness of winter, I need reminders of summer and my gardens to bring brightness to my days.

Early in the summer, I picked and pressed a collections of blossoms and leaves from my garden.  My son-in-law created a fabulous press for me that gives me the ability to press large quantities at the same time.  It is interesting to see how petals retain their colors and identities through the pressing process.  When the pressing process is completed, I enjoy the creative process of using the flowers.  While I'm not an artist, I enjoy crafting with them.  This year, I mounted the petals and leaves on wood letters, painted white.  They made lovely Christmas gifts. 


Of course, I also made one for myself, so while I'm working at my computer on cold winter days, I can gaze at reminders of the blooms that were and that will bloom again when summer returns.

One of my favorite garden annuals is an acutangula luffa vine.  I plant some of these vines on my less than lovely chain link fence each summer because they always perform with very little assistance from me.

This summer, the acutangula vines outdid themselves.  They covered the entire south side of the fence and quietly invaded the nearby shrubbery, as well as my cozy shady hideaway table and chairs. 

I started picking the vegetable form in mid-August.  This year, I mixed them in with the pipianes that my neighbor's vines produced for a unique and delicious mix of Asian and Central American cuisine. 

Of course, with vines this large, I often missed a vegetable and it would quickly grow beyond the eating size.  I ended up with more than 50 luffa sized acutangula to pick when the first frost reached central Alabama in November.

Peeling 50 luffas took some serious effort.  The only down-side to this year's crop was that the same wet summer that produced the massive vines and bumper crop also allowed mildew to grow on the luffas, resulting in some serious stains on them which required an extra step of bleaching.

If anyone wants some seeds, I have collected thousands.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

At 7:00am

This is the first December snowfall I remember in Alabama.  I decorate with a real snow shovel, a toy sled, and a sign that says "we believe" in snow, but I never have any real hope of actually seeing snow in my backyard for Christmas. 

At noon

It started snowing before sunrise this morning with a total of 1-2 inches in the forecast.  I went to work but when the roads started closing at 10:00am, they sent us home.  I was shocked to see more than two inches of snow on my car; the drive home was an exercise in prayer and caution.  I've been away from Minnesota for too many years to enjoy driving in the snow. 

By the time we finished eating lunch, there were a good four to five inches of snow in the back yard.  The only activity that made sense to me was to go outside to build the biggest snowman I could manage.  I soaked through three pairs of gloves but I'm pretty impressed with my handiwork.

My poor southern plants are less impressed with God's largesse.  I went around the garden shaking wet snow off branches burdened to the breaking point and I'm pretty sure the orange tree was begging me to bring it into the garage.

We won't discuss how I stepped into my own garden pond;  the snow had covered the screening I placed over it to keep leaves from falling into it and I was busy framing a photo and not thinking about where that pond was (sigh loudly here). 

Of course, the snow will all be gone tomorrow, this is Alabama after all.