Just when it seems like the trees have finished their spring bloom show, the grancy gray beards burst into a shimmery cloud of white. The fruit trees were lovely, the dogwoods were elegant, but God saved the best for last. Apparently my tree enjoyed the wet winter because this year's blooms are so bright they practically glow in the dark.
Also known as a fringe tree, these native trees can be grown with multiple trunks or pruned to a single trunk. They prefer woodland borders but are hardy in the full sun and will tolerate a great deal of shade. When full grown, they are a lovely shade tree in a smaller landscape.
This tree is a fabulous alternative to dogwoods, which are susceptible to disease, and to the bradford pear trees, which are structurally unsound.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Saturday, April 18, 2015
"Un"common fleabane daisy
Everywhere you look during these spring days, you will see the common fleabane daisy. It grows anywhere it finds a bit of soil. In the garden we think of it as a pest--popping up in places where we didn't intend, but along the roadside and strewn across wild meadows, the common fleabane is a delight to behold on a sunny spring day.
I recently attended a seminar on spring wildflowers taught by Dr. Ellen McLaughlin at Samford. We collected flowers along the roadside, which we then took into the lab to examine under the microscope. I was amazed at the incredible diversity growing along sidewalks, parking lots and roadsides, most of which we completely ignore. The microscope revealed how even the tiniest wildflower is uniquely beautiful.
One of the wildflowers we studied is the common fleabane daisy. Each one of these one-inch daisies is really hundreds of flowers; each petal and each tiny section of its yellow center is a separate flower! Under the microscope it was unbundantly clear that there is nothing "common" about this flower.
The following afternoon, after our tour through God's creekside garden, we took a looping ride through some of our favorite nearby meadows. As we rode through a wooded path into a large hay field, we were greeted by thousands of fleabane daisies dancing in the gentle breeze.
So often, what we think of as "common" is anything but common. I am constantly humbled and amazed at the extraordinary beauty of God's creation.
I recently attended a seminar on spring wildflowers taught by Dr. Ellen McLaughlin at Samford. We collected flowers along the roadside, which we then took into the lab to examine under the microscope. I was amazed at the incredible diversity growing along sidewalks, parking lots and roadsides, most of which we completely ignore. The microscope revealed how even the tiniest wildflower is uniquely beautiful.
One of the wildflowers we studied is the common fleabane daisy. Each one of these one-inch daisies is really hundreds of flowers; each petal and each tiny section of its yellow center is a separate flower! Under the microscope it was unbundantly clear that there is nothing "common" about this flower.
The following afternoon, after our tour through God's creekside garden, we took a looping ride through some of our favorite nearby meadows. As we rode through a wooded path into a large hay field, we were greeted by thousands of fleabane daisies dancing in the gentle breeze.
So often, what we think of as "common" is anything but common. I am constantly humbled and amazed at the extraordinary beauty of God's creation.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
God's garden
In the beginning, God planted a garden. There are very few places left on this earth where we can visit a garden that God planted. I had the privilege of visiting one of these gardens today. Unbelievably, it is right here in Shelby County, Alabama. I suppose a person could hike to it, but it is only easily accessible on horseback. Here are some photos of what God's garden looks like today. I've visited many gardens but this one is my favorite. (The layout for this blog entry has proven to be impossible to get "right." Please enjoy the photos and forgive the blogger.)
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Mistakes happen
About 10 years ago a former neighbor decided to build a privacy fence around their backyard, which was fine with us. However, he constructed it with the business-side out so we didn't see the lovely fence, we were looking at about 40 feet of the "wrong side" of the fence. The obvious solution was to grow my own privacy hedge to hide it. At the time, the easiest and fastest hedge for me to plant was nandina. It was free and grew fast. I knew nandina could be invasive but I figured I could manage it.
In just a few years, I knew I had made a horrible mistake. Of course, I could "manage" the nandina. Each spring, I just have to pull up thousands of seedlings! After the first year of full "management" I knew that the nandina hedge was going to have go.
The question has just been "with what should I replace it." I've been carefully listening to landscaping experts and researching their suggestions for creating natural privacy barriers. They suggest everything from the mundane to the exotic.
Because I am incredibly frugal (some people call me "cheap") the "newest" landscape plants are too expensive for me but neither do I want the standard "landscaper's favorites."
While strolling through one of my favorite garden centers this past week, I noticed some fabulous Norway Spruce trees, balled and probably left over from Christmas. Being from Minnesota, I love spruces but I know better than to plant one in Alabama. The nurseryman pointed out that he had not one, but two full grown Norway spruces right there. I was immediately hooked.
It took a full day to dig up the 12 feet of nandina and two large barberry shrubs to make room for my Christmas tree. But when I went back to purchase the tree, it proved to be too heavy to slide into the back seat of my car. The owner of Cedar Creek Nursery offered to deliver it to my house at no charge.
I am now the proud owner of this fabulous Norway Spruce. When it grows up, it will completely hide this section of the fence.
My three blueberry bushes grace the other end of the fence. Although they are deciduous, their bare branches seem to "work" to keep our minds distracted from the fence background.
There is still about 12 feet of nandina in the ground. I'm still hunting for just the right evergreen shrubs to correct my landscaping error.
In just a few years, I knew I had made a horrible mistake. Of course, I could "manage" the nandina. Each spring, I just have to pull up thousands of seedlings! After the first year of full "management" I knew that the nandina hedge was going to have go.
The question has just been "with what should I replace it." I've been carefully listening to landscaping experts and researching their suggestions for creating natural privacy barriers. They suggest everything from the mundane to the exotic.
Because I am incredibly frugal (some people call me "cheap") the "newest" landscape plants are too expensive for me but neither do I want the standard "landscaper's favorites."
While strolling through one of my favorite garden centers this past week, I noticed some fabulous Norway Spruce trees, balled and probably left over from Christmas. Being from Minnesota, I love spruces but I know better than to plant one in Alabama. The nurseryman pointed out that he had not one, but two full grown Norway spruces right there. I was immediately hooked.
It took a full day to dig up the 12 feet of nandina and two large barberry shrubs to make room for my Christmas tree. But when I went back to purchase the tree, it proved to be too heavy to slide into the back seat of my car. The owner of Cedar Creek Nursery offered to deliver it to my house at no charge.
I am now the proud owner of this fabulous Norway Spruce. When it grows up, it will completely hide this section of the fence.
My three blueberry bushes grace the other end of the fence. Although they are deciduous, their bare branches seem to "work" to keep our minds distracted from the fence background.
There is still about 12 feet of nandina in the ground. I'm still hunting for just the right evergreen shrubs to correct my landscaping error.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
A walk in the woods
Spring is the season for a deciduous forest garden to glow. All the ground cover plants and shrubs enjoy the spring sunshine and warmer soils that are shaded over when the canopy leafs out in a few weeks. Now, all sorts of plants burst forth from the rich leaf litter but it takes a quiet walk deep into the forest to see many of these plants--modern landscaping and invasives such as privet and honeysuckle have choked many of them out.
I have a miniature decidous landscape in my backyard. It is framed by some volunteer water oaks that grew up on the border of my property before it was mine. When I first moved here the area was overrun with privet and wild blackberry vines. After clearing the invasives it didn't take me long to discover that only natives were going to thrive in that environment.
Through the gracious kindness of many friends who gave me cuttings, small plants, and the privilege of being able to rescue plants from horse pastures and some private wild areas, my 500 square foot woodland garden is becoming a delightful wonderland.
Spring is my favorite season in the woods, but as spring heats up into summer and summer cools into fall, there are always new surprises in the woods.
Many woodland natives are difficult to acquire from retail outlets because their growing season is extremely short. Whenever possible I try to use shared plants from other woodland gardeners (and I'm willing to share as well).
Collecting plants from a wild forest is highly frowned upon and I agree that we need to preserve our woodlands. I have some very strict rules when collecting plants.
1. If there are only one or two plants in a natural setting, I enjoy it where it is; for example, I NEVER take a native azalea out of the woods. There are not enough of them and these shrubs are easily attainable in retail setting.
2. My first choice for collecting is a plant that is at risk--usually in the middle of a horse or deer trail or on the edge of a power line easement.
3. If there is a significant population of my desired plant, I never take primary plants, only marginal "babies."
My atamasco lilies came from a deer/horse trail and would have died from being trampled. My windflowers came from the edge of a huge natural planting of hundreds of windflowers. The liverworts, little brown jugs, may apples and trout lilies were single baby plants on the edge of groupings of 30+ plants.
This is what my woodland garden looks like today. I can't wait to see what it will look like tomorrow.
I have a miniature decidous landscape in my backyard. It is framed by some volunteer water oaks that grew up on the border of my property before it was mine. When I first moved here the area was overrun with privet and wild blackberry vines. After clearing the invasives it didn't take me long to discover that only natives were going to thrive in that environment.
Through the gracious kindness of many friends who gave me cuttings, small plants, and the privilege of being able to rescue plants from horse pastures and some private wild areas, my 500 square foot woodland garden is becoming a delightful wonderland.
Spring is my favorite season in the woods, but as spring heats up into summer and summer cools into fall, there are always new surprises in the woods.
Many woodland natives are difficult to acquire from retail outlets because their growing season is extremely short. Whenever possible I try to use shared plants from other woodland gardeners (and I'm willing to share as well).
Collecting plants from a wild forest is highly frowned upon and I agree that we need to preserve our woodlands. I have some very strict rules when collecting plants.
1. If there are only one or two plants in a natural setting, I enjoy it where it is; for example, I NEVER take a native azalea out of the woods. There are not enough of them and these shrubs are easily attainable in retail setting.
2. My first choice for collecting is a plant that is at risk--usually in the middle of a horse or deer trail or on the edge of a power line easement.
3. If there is a significant population of my desired plant, I never take primary plants, only marginal "babies."
My atamasco lilies came from a deer/horse trail and would have died from being trampled. My windflowers came from the edge of a huge natural planting of hundreds of windflowers. The liverworts, little brown jugs, may apples and trout lilies were single baby plants on the edge of groupings of 30+ plants.
This is what my woodland garden looks like today. I can't wait to see what it will look like tomorrow.
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