Wednesday, 29 November 2017

November doldrums

We were away for all of October, travelling in Indonesia (see my travel blog), and returned to find the garden preparing itself for winter.







With the exception of a few blue spires of monkshood (Aconitum carmichaelii 'Arendsii'), foliage colours of green, russet, gold and silver dominate the backyard.

A new acquisition this year, Cotinus 'Young Lady', a compact form of smokebush, is among the clearest golds, with dark red slowly seeping out between the veins.







Similar colouring infuses a native currant in a corner of the vegetable garden, although more of it has already deepened to red.







In front of the house, Disanthus cercidifolius, which looked so vibrant at the end of September...







...is now a scrawl of bare branches above the dying foliage around its base.







Not all is in decline however. This is the moment for Mahonia 'Winter Sun' to shine. Its buds are already bursting with the promise of winter flowers that will lure Anna's hummingbirds to join the juncos and chickadees who are enlivening the garden every day as they hunt for bugs and seeds among the debris.






November doldrums

We were away for all of October, travelling in Indonesia (see my travel blog), and returned to find the garden preparing itself for winter.


With the exception of a few blue spires of monkshood (Aconitum carmichaelii 'Arendsii'), foliage colours of green, russet, gold and silver dominate the backyard.
A new acquisition this year, Cotinus 'Young Lady', a compact form of smokebush, is among the clearest golds, with dark red slowly seeping out between the veins.


Similar colouring infuses a native currant in a corner of the vegetable garden, although more of it has already deepened to red.


In front of the house, Disanthus cercidifolius, which looked so vibrant at the end of September...


...is now a scrawl of bare branches above the dying foliage around its base.


Not all is in decline however. This is the moment for Mahonia 'Winter Sun' to shine. Its buds are already bursting with the promise of winter flowers that will lure Anna's hummingbirds to join the juncos and chickadees who are enlivening the garden every day as they hunt for bugs and seeds among the debris.


Clematis seedheads

By October the garden is in decline. Even so, there are some bright sparks if you look closely, and sparks is a good way to describe the spiralling seedheads of my various clematis. I have quite a few of these as it's hard not to like a vine that flowers so generously and then offers a wholly different aspect in fall.

'Gravetye Beauty' flowers late, so its last crimson blooms glow alongside bright green seedheads that remind me a little of kitchen pot scrubbers.











'Willy', on the other hand, flowered in late spring and has taken all summer to manufacture these feathery tufts, accented here by a green fly that I didn't notice at the time.







'Huldine' produces small explosions of gold, tipped with chocolate.







C.ochroleuca, a miniature sprawler, has a spidery look.







And C. recta, which I've pictured in previous years with cobalt blue seeds, this year has begun with pale yellow ones, each with a squirrel tail of pure white






Clematis seedheads

By October the garden is in decline. Even so, there are some bright sparks if you look closely, and sparks is a good way to describe the spiralling seedheads of my various clematis. I have quite a few of these as it's hard not to like a vine that flowers so generously and then offers a wholly different aspect in fall.
'Gravetye Beauty' flowers late, so its last crimson blooms glow alongside bright green seedheads that remind me a little of kitchen pot scrubbers.



'Willy', on the other hand, flowered in late spring and has taken all summer to manufacture these feathery tufts, accented here by a green fly that I didn't notice at the time.


'Huldine' produces small explosions of gold, tipped with chocolate.


C.ochroleuca, a miniature sprawler, has a spidery look.


And C. recta, which I've pictured in previous years with cobalt blue seeds, this year has begun with pale yellow ones, each with a squirrel tail of pure white


Saturday, 2 September 2017

Seeing Red








In spring and early summer, the garden is awash in blues, pinks and
purples, but with the hotter days of August and into September, just
when everything else begins to look tired, along come some hot
colours to match the weather and draw attention away from their faded companions.







  Lobelia cardinalis 'Victoria' with
scarlet flowers on tall dark chocolate stems is the most striking, and draws a lot of visits from hummingbirds.








Right beside it is Helenium 'Rubinswerg', which has clumped up nicely in only a year. It has more orange in it, and I haven't quite decided whether it complements or clashes with the lobelia.








Off in a shady corner, Hydrangea serrata 'Beni' is still putting on a show. As the season progresses, more red and purple tones will seep into its leaves.







In a back corner, Rodgersia aesculifolia 'Maurice Mason' has a single frond of a more dusky red. This is a plant that has been reluctant to bloom. I'll give it a good top-dressing this fall, but if it doesn't reward me with more flowers next year, it's on borrowed time.







Out in front of the house, my recent acquisition of Disanthus cercidifolius has a few crimson leaves etched with gold, anticipating its eventual autumn blaze. Since this is its first year here, I'm looking forward to the coming show.







I now have an urge to put more reds into the mix at this time of year and would welcome any suggestions.

Seeing Red


In spring and early summer, the garden is awash in blues, pinks and purples, but with the hotter days of August and into September, just when everything else begins to look tired, along come some hot colours to match the weather and draw attention away from their faded companions.


  Lobelia cardinalis 'Victoria' with scarlet flowers on tall dark chocolate stems is the most striking, and draws a lot of visits from hummingbirds.


Right beside it is Helenium 'Rubinswerg', which has clumped up nicely in only a year. It has more orange in it, and I haven't quite decided whether it complements or clashes with the lobelia.



Off in a shady corner, Hydrangea serrata 'Beni' is still putting on a show. As the season progresses, more red and purple tones will seep into its leaves.


In a back corner, Rodgersia aesculifolia 'Maurice Mason' has a single frond of a more dusky red. This is a plant that has been reluctant to bloom. I'll give it a good top-dressing this fall, but if it doesn't reward me with more flowers next year, it's on borrowed time.


Out in front of the house, my recent acquisition of Disanthus cercidifolius has a few crimson leaves etched with gold, anticipating its eventual autumn blaze. Since this is its first year here, I'm looking forward to the coming show.


I now have an urge to put more reds into the mix at this time of year and would welcome any suggestions.

Sunday, 13 August 2017

A Season of Birds (and a Butterfly)

(I wrote this post back in August, but couldn't get my video files to load. I think they are functioning now. Even if they're not, at least the still photos are on record.)



It's been a good year for birds.  I first hung my home-made chickadee nesting tube two years ago, and although a pair has investigated it every spring, this is the first year they've settled in and raised a family.















Hummingbirds have been frequent visitors too - ever since the roses began to bloom. The chickadees weren't happy when one came too close.









After the babies left the nest, I took down the tube to investigate and extracted the little cup made, as far as I can tell, out of the wood shavings I supplied, plus spiderwebs and cat hair.







More recently, sparrows have arrived to enjoy seedheads and the last of the blueberries. One little guy sat on my windowsill as I worked and gazed at me longingly.  Or maybe it was just his reflection he was admiring.







Bush tits are also coming for seeds, especially on my 10-foot tall lovage plant. They are very quick to take off in a flurry of tiny wings if they sense any nearby movement, so I've been unable to get a clear photograph.



Most of the butterflies I see are cabbage whites, but for a few days a swallowtail was a regular visitor to Daphne 'Eternal Fragrance'. Like the bush tits, it was always on the move and I had to discard a lot of photos with only the tip of a wing in the frame before I got lucky.