You know its August in Alabama . . .

You know its August in Alabama . . .when the outdoor plants try to come inside for some relief from the heat and humidity.

This confederate jasmine lives in a large container on the driveway between our garage doors.  Although it officially blooms in the spring, there are usually a few fragrant blooms on it most of the year. 

This summer's weather has been characterized by high humidity and frequent rain showers, stimulating the jasmine to extraordinary growth.  It has sent out extremely long runners that began wrapping around the garage door facing and into the garage. 

While I thought this was fantastic fun, Bob was beginning to feel like he was in one of those plant horror films in which the plants begin to overrun the universe.  He was sure the jasmine was reaching out for his car every time he drove through the doorway. 

I trimmed the runners back about a week ago but when I watered yesterday, I noticed two or three runners on their way back into the garage.  The poor vine is just trying to find some shade and relief from the August heat.  Don't tell Bob.

Learning to landscape

When we purchased our home 28 years ago, the foundation planting consisted of overgrown holly that literally prevented the use of the front steps.  After several years of trying to contain those monster shrubs, I realized that a new landscape plan was definitely in order. 

My first try was barberry because I loved the nearly true red foliage.  This turned out to be a disaster, I just replaced sticky bushes for a thorny ones.  Even though they are semi-evergreen, in my front yard, they were totally deciduous.  For several months each winter, my foundation planting looked like Sleeping Beauty's bramble patch, not very inviting and seriously painful if you happened to bump into them.

It became obvious that I needed to make another try at landscaping the front of my house.  This time, I carefully researched and decided on Ruby Chang loropetalum, red evergreen foliage but without any thorns.  Since my house has two levels, I wanted to create a little vertical interest so I picked out two dwarf crepe myrtles that the tag said would have dark pink flowers and whose height would max out at about 10 feet.

The loropetalum have performed beautifully.  They have filled out the space and require only an annual trim to keep them from growing too tall.  The new growth is dark red and each spring we are treated to masses of bright pink blossoms.

The crepe myrtles have not done so well.  Once again, my choice didn't grow in the manner I had envisioned.  They grew and grew and grew some more until they towered over the house.  At eye level the only part of the shrubs we could see were naked stems.  The shrub on the side of the house grew into a full grown tree, requiring me to carefully keep a section pruned out of the center to accommodate our power lines.  I even tried a version of crepe "murder" in a attempt to return these overgrown monsters back to the dwarf size I was promised.

I finally resigned myself to removing them entirely.  My long-suffering son-in-law, Skip, spent a couple of hours with me yesterday to cut them down.  The landscape looks better already.  I must fight the urge to replace them with anything, although I may propagate one more loropetalum to wrap around the side of the house.

Professional landscape designers use the phrase "right plant, right place" to remind all of us to make sure we think first, then plant.  Maybe someday I will learn my lesson.

Following in the footsteps of greatness

My son, Rob, recently visited Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, in Virginia.  He brought me a book about this historic plantation and some seeds that were harvested there. 

While we all studied Thomas Jefferson in school as the writer of our Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson considered himself a farmer and Monticello as his opportunity to learn as much as he could about growing plants.

I was amazed to read that Jefferson was passionate about farming and gardening concepts that we think of as quite modern ideas.  He developed good soil through the application of mulch and compost (manure), loved native plants, used the topography of the land to extend growing seasons, and was willing to try new ideas and plants even if that meant failure occasionally.  He journaled all of his gardening experiences to keep track of his efforts. 

While my backyard is not an Alabama Monticello, I love the idea that I am following in the footsteps of a great American gardener.  I am already looking forward to growing some of his seeds in my backyard.

The "new" crocosmia garden

In its previous incarnation as a shade garden, the only plants that seemed to thrive among the matted root system of the silver maple tree were the crocosmias.  They balanced their bulbs on the roots and managed to send tendrils through the mats but their bloom stalks tended to fall over when they were fully blooming.  I left them in place after the tree was cut down last summer but wondered how they would do in the new full-sun garden.

The wondering is over.  I am proud to report that the crocosmias love their new sun garden!  They are already thicker, are standing completely upright, and are covered in orange-red blooms that remind me of fireworks.

It's a jungle out there

For the past several years, whenever I acquired a new plant for which I didn't have a planned location, I would plant it along the back fence line.  The fence line is my most recent cultivation so it always seems like the right place for any plant.

With the loss of the silver maple tree, the sun hours for the fence line garden have increased significantly, changing the growing dynamics proportionately.  Add to that, the near tropical nature of this summer's weather patterns and suddenly it feels like a jungle out there.

While very little is blooming at the moment, the plants are bursting with energy and the cream peas I planted in the "empty" spaces are over running their trellis poles and crawling onto the shrubs and taller perennials.  It will soon be a challenge to navigate the pathway.  Who knew I would have jungle in July?

When God has other plans

After several years without experiencing any significant severe weather, my backyard was slammed with two major wind events on two consecutive days.  The weather station at the airport registered 35 mph gusts but in our neighborhood the winds were much, much stronger. 

The wind filled our backyard with debris, pruned a multitude of branches from a dead tree on our neighbor's property, and a huge branch high in the canopy of our sweet gum tree crashed through the canopy of the nearby southern long leaf pine, creating a major disaster in the middle of our yard.  Unlike some of our neighbors, we were fortunate that none of the branches fell on our home.

Saturday was clean up day in our backyard.  My sweet husband purchased a small chain saw and we spent the bulk of a hot, summer day, sawing up branches and dragging them to the curb.

The garden that was buried under the debris looks very sad today, but nothing was completely destroyed.  Amazingly, not a single branch landed on our garden bench, and not a single container was damaged.  We will just have a little more sunshine in the shade garden.

As we worked on our backyard yesterday, I was reminded that we often have expectations for our gardens that change in moment because of unforeseen changes in the weather, events that we can't anticipate or change.  Life is often the same way.  We plan and have expectations that change in a moment because of events that we cannot control.  We have to depend on our heavenly Father who knows what is coming, and who will make the journey with us.

One of the truths from the Bible that I keep in mind is written in Proverbs:  Trust in the LORD with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. (3:5-6)

Wild about wild petunias

Some of my favorite flowers come from ditches.  When I walk or ride (car or horse) down small roads and streets, I always pay attention to what is growing in the ditches.  Amid the weeds, grass, and trash there are always wildflowers thriving in the mess. 

Much to the embarrassment of my husband and friends, I will stop to rescue a wildflower specimen for my garden.  Those ditch flowers are extremely hardy, exactly the characteristic I am looking for.

Many years ago, I introduced wild petunias to my front garden.  I chose to plant mine in the filtered shade because that is the environment from which I rescued it.  While it has reseeded and spread gently throughout the garden, it has definitely migrated over to the sunnier side of the flower bed, interspersing itself in the liriope border. 


I hope to capture some seeds in order to transfer it to my sunnier gardens in the backyard.  I love observing the way the garden naturally redesigns itself.