Chickadee Nest

A few weeks ago, I decided to make a chickadee nesting tube from instructions I found on the web at http://web2.uwindsor.ca/courses/biology/dmennill/nestbox.html

I followed the instructions with one exception: instead of using metal strapping to attach the tube to the tree, I used heavy-duty Velcro for outdoor use. The Velcro is more flexible, easier to adjust, and it can be attached so tightly that it doesn't need to be nailed on. Here's my finished project, painted in the only exterior latex that I had on hand, and stuffed full of wood shavings:

I'd hardly put it up on our old pear tree before it was already being checked out by a prospective tenant. Now the pair are busy excavating the tube to their liking.These little birds move so fast that I resorted to making a movie after taking at least half a dozen photos that completely missed the birds. It's not a very good movie,so I'll try again and hope to have one good enough to post.

Equinox enthusiasm

It's astonishing how promptly some plants respond to the coming of the equinox. Daily I see more green growth, and daily more flowers open tentative petals.
The spring bouquet under the Corylopsis is vivid with colour now.

Among the blooms are double pink Hellebore 'Amethyst Gem', blue Anemone blanda and a creamy yellow species tulip, T. turkestanica. At the back are the pale green bells of Helleborus foetidus 'Wester Flisk'

Along the side of the house the primula-like flowers of Cardamine trifoliata shine crisply white in the shade.

At least I think that's what it is. The leaves are not three-lobed so it might be a different species.

Nearby is Ranunculus 'Brazen Hussy', with suitably bold yellow daisies above its dark, polished leaves.

It would probably flower better in more sun, but I'm wary of the spreading tendencies of its family. Here, with a concrete pathway on one side and a fence on the other, I've got it safely confined, I hope.

The flowers on Salix 'Melanostachys', which I mentioned a week ago, are fading already from black to silvery-grey with red tips, but  are just as pretty. It will be a lovely spring bloomer when it puts out a few more stems.

Colour Comes Back to the Garden

As the temperature settles into double digits, early flowers take it as the sign to bloom. Hellebores are always among the first, the buds shouldering their way up even through a late blast of snow.

It was after this episode that we had milder weather, and suddenly all the hellebores were in bloom. The clumps grow bigger every year, and so does my collection.

These are the stars of the spring garden, but other plants are also noteworthy. The tiny black tufts on Salix gracilistyla 'Melanostachys', the black willow, were so subtle that I had to photograph it against the snow to get a decent image.

This is such a pretty plant in bloom, with its contrasting red stems, but it's not very exciting the rest of the year. I keep it in a pot for that reason and because it has a tendency to spread rather too enthusiastically for a small garden. Not that mine has yet: growing from a cutting, it still has just this one stem.

Corylopsis pauciflora, a witch hazel relative started out slowly,

...but is now in full bloom and attracting early bees whenever the sun deigns to shine.

 

Although the snow crocus in full sun are over already, some in shadier locations are going strong.

And Iris reticulata 'Clairette', which I bought last year, is also blooming later than its relatives. It's a pretty colour combination, but not elegant in its proportions: big flower on short stem. I hope that's just because it's not established yet.

'Rijnfeld's Early Sensation' daffodils are living up to their name, flowering well ahead of my other narcissus. I need to plant a ground cover around them to prevent them being splashed with dirt whenever it rains. Fortunately, from a distance you can't see the dirt, and they add a cheerful sparkle to an area that doesn't have much in it yet. That will change once I start visiting my favourite nurseries.

At Last, a Few Signs of Spring

A little sunshine and a slightly warmer temperature is bringing all the early bulbs into flower. Snowdrops, all gifts from friends, are coming up through last year's fallen leaves,

The first slightly battered blooms have opened on a clump of the little netted iris (Iris reticulata),

and on winter aconites. Both have suffered from wind and rain, but splatters of dirt don't diminish their charm.

Snow crocus are all showing colour, and some are even opening when the sun hits them, which isn't as often as I'd like. At least with 'Gipsy Girl', you get the added bonus of the stripes on the underside of the petals when the flower is closed. When it's open, you get the solid gold interior - bright and cheerful but not quite as interesting.

 

The early spring hellebores are beginning to flower, too. They aren't making much of a display yet, especially the dark-coloured ones that blend into the bare earth beneath,

 but if I get down on hands and knees and shove the camera under the drooping blooms, I get a good view of how pretty they are.

Last Gasp of 2013

December brought sharp morning frosts that sparkled on the few remaining flowers, fruits and foliage.

Sedum 'Autumn Joy'

Anthemis tinctoria "Sauce Hollandaise'

Rosa 'Lykkefund'

Then in the week before Christmas we had snow, making Vancouver briefly part of the Great White North.

It smashed my luxuriant rosemary, but  Mahonia 'Winter Sun' came through unscathed.

So did a ground-hugging Skimmia, although almost submerged in the snow.

Even a few dying seedheads on brittle stems held up well.

That's another reason not to rush the trimming and tidying of these spent blooms. I leave them for the small birds to enjoy and also for the structure they continue to provide when so many plants other plants have collapsed or disappeared for the winter.

By Christmas Day the snow had largely melted and for the remainder of the year we were back to traditional Vancouver weather, i.e. rain interspersed with sunny but cold and clear periods.

More Fall Colour

It's been a busy few months so I never found the time to write about how well the garden is beginning to perform in the fall. However, I did manage to get out with a camera and record some of the highlights.

I continue to be impressed with Enkianthus perulatus, which grows bigger and colours more deeply with every passing year. I love the way it complements the colour of the house and yet stands out from it.

Across the path, the deeper colours are echoed by the year-round purple foliage on Nandina 'Plum Passion', which looked stunning with silvery drops of water on its leaves.

Fothergilla 'Mt. Airy' is another good multi-season plant. Having produced its creamy, honey-scented flowers in summer, it became a riot of orange and gold in October.

Nobody expects roses to have good fall colour, but Rosa pimpinellifolia is a favourite of mine in part for just this attribute (No, I didn't tweak the saturation in these images, but I did take the photographs in late afternoon golden light.)

It's pretty much a good all-year plant with elegant fern-like foliage through three seasons, lovely scented pale yellow flowers in summer, and shiny black rosehips. Even in winter, its stems have what Gertrude Jekyll described as "a warm brown presence" in the garden. I will post a photo of it in January to illustrate her comment.

October wasn't entirely about leaf colour; there were still some late-blooming flowers in the garden as well, asters (or Michaelmas daisies) in particular. I have several different varieties now. Earlier I posted photos of  'Little Carlow', so intensely blue, but I also like the pink prettiness of 'Anja's Choice'. This is its first year with me and I'm hoping it keeps its present short stature and won't require support the way not-so-little 'Little Carlow' does.

A quite different aster is A laterifolium 'Lady in Black', whose little white daisies with their raspberry centres are visible at the bottom of the following photo, underneath the fluffy white flowers of Eupatorium 'Chocolate'. Both plants have names that describe their dark stems and young foliage, not their flowers. I'm surprised and pleased by how well the flowers combine.

There is also a charming little member of the onion family that looks rather like a clump of grass until this late in the year, and then sends up numerous stalks of bristly little lilac-pink bells. Its name is Allium thunbergii 'Ozawa'.

 And finally, there is my favourite hydrangea 'Beni-Gaku', whose praises I'm always singing. Flowers and leaves have taken on tints of burgundy that contrast boldly with a dying hosta at its feet.

Fall colour

It's only the beginning of October, but we've had such wet, cool weather for the last week that it feels like much later in the fall, even though the deciduous trees have only just started to change colour.

A few stalwart plants are continuing to bloom in spite of being soaked. Several stems of Aster 'Little Carlow' ( which isn't little) have snapped and the whole plant is leaning precariously on the adjoining Hydrangea quercifolia 'Sikes Dwarf' (which isn't very dwarf.)However, the combination still manages to look good.

I'd like some more asters, but will be careful to select shorter varieties. Even though I shortened the stems of 'Little Carlow' twice during the summer, it still got too leggy. It's a fabulous colour, though, so worth the trouble of staking.

In the background, Persicaria 'Fire Dance' is still blooming, as it has for weeks now. Interspersed among its blooms are the seedheads of Phlomis russeliana, too dark to see in the photo above.

Actaea 'Brunette' has finished flowering, but it also has attractive drooping caramel-brown seedheads with an added bonus this year of foliage that has unexpectedly gone from dark brown to a rosy pink. Note to self: don't rush to cut it back at summer's end.

There are still a few slightly bedraggled flowers on Rosa 'Darlow's Enigma',

while Clematis rehderiana has leapt from the fence into the pear tree, producing a whole new flush of flowers in both locations. The red hips are on Rosa 'Lykkefund'. I planted these two together, hoping for just this effect.

Unfortunately the cool weather has greatly reduced C. rehderiana's usual heady perfume, but the little bells with their turned-up edges are delightful anyway.

Another great combination, not planned, is that of Penstemon 'Garnet' draping a few remaining flowers over an ornamental clover. I bought the clover for its crimson flowers, never suspecting it would have such dramatic fall foliage.

In the front garden, Nandina 'Plum Passion', one of this year's purchases, is demonstrating why it is so named. I'm hoping it will become more bushy as it settles in.

A late planting of sunflowers in the vegetable garden is fighting against time to open some flowers before the first killing frost.

The flower hanging head downward, whose stalk got pushed over early in its life, was first to bloom, probably thanks to heat reflected from the paving below. I squatted under it to get a close-up.