It’s the lazy days of summer. I hope you’re making the most of
the season. They will become the memories that’ll get you through
the dark, cold days of winter. Ignore the to-do list and savor the
pleasures of summer.
Summer Nights
Wrapped in the
thick air
heavy with heat
laden with moist
Watching
fireflies
mimic the stars
against black
velvet
Serenaded boldly
by tree frogs
and crickets
Fanned from on
high
wings of bats
on purposeful
sorties
While night moths
answer service
calls
of moonflowers
and gardenias
Spicy notes of
phlox
rise with the
night
perfumed with
clove,
oil of bergamot
essence of rose
Lulled into
well being
content to remain
Greet the dew
of a new day.
–
Shobha Vanchiswar
Summer Dive
Sunlight spills
brilliant
diamonds
blinding ripples
shimmering winks
sliced apart
by summer’s first dive.
-Shobha Vanchiswar
Summer Joy
Summer
spreads wide
a
picnic blanket
of
meadow flowers and green, green grass
For
legs to brush against
bodies
to lie back
To
gaze upon
lofty
images of dogs and bears and hunting giants
From
dazzling day to evening glitter
Dew
gathers to mist
sun-warmed faces and naked toes
Summer
seems
like
an endless ride
filled
with ice-cream cones and fireflies
Of
water fights and watermelon wedges
children’s
laughter intoxicated
on
improbable tales
An
ephemeral age, an ephemeral time
summer passes overnight.
– Shobha Vanchiswar
Note:The Small Works exhibit is on through August. Do make time to see it!
July is coming to a close and what a month it has been in the garden. Hot, messy and erratic. That poem by Pasternak describes it so well.
Dictated by the
weather, I’ve been negligent of my garden duties. It’s just
really hard to get outside and work when merely standing still brings
on the sweat and sends out irresistible invites to all the biting
bugs near and far. Consequently, the chores get done in fits and
starts, bits and pieces. A little weeding here, some deadheading
there. The automatic watering system set up for the pots broke down
and needed fixing – mercifully, the preceding days had been wet so
the plants were relatively unharmed.
The heat wave put
paid to the plants in the pots on the wall on the side terrace.
Despite the daily watering, they simply could not take those high
temperatures. I’ve decided to empty out the pots and not replant.
With a very busy August schedule coming up, it’s time to simplify
matters somewhat.
They say this June
was the hottest one in recent history and July is turning out to
match it. Who knows what August will do.
Sunflowers have
appeared as happy surprises in one of the large bay standard pots. A
lone sunflower grew in the vertical garden. I’d stopped planting
lilies a few years ago because I lost the battle with the red lily
beetles. Well, as though waking up after a long slumber, a couple of
lily plants re-emerged this summer. Their leaves are ugly and chewed
up but the flowers look fine and are busy perfuming the front garden.
The garden might
look a bit unruly but it is fragrance heaven. Lilies in front soon to
be followed by phlox, gardenias and orange-blossoms on the side and
jasmine in the back. Heaven.
The meadow has been in serious need of attention. First, the jewelweed took advantage of my apathy and spread itself all over. Once they were deliberately reduced to more manageable numbers, a nettle of the sting-less variety moved in with a vengeance. It needs to be completely and ruthlessly removed all together. It’s been a real task trying to help the many new plants planted in late spring establish themselves. Fingers crossed …
The
hydrangea are in bloom – they provide much needed color in the
meadow right now. Elsewhere, the Echinacea
in their brightness are drawing the pollinators. I
really ought to plant more of these stalwarts and get rid of the
fussy, finicky members of the
garden. With harsh weather
becoming the new normal, it behooves a gardener to rethink the
plantings.
Tomato
season has begun. We’re enjoying the golden cherry tomatoes and
savoring the bigger varieties as they ripen. At this stage, each
fruit is precious. Soon, there will be a glut and we’ll take them
for granted as we make soups,
salads and sauces.
It’s so easy to obsess over the disheveled state of the garden, complain about the heat in July. But, looking around, amidst the green jungle, I see heroic flowers splashing color and fragrance all over. The herbs, leafy greens and, early tomatoes grace our meals. Ripening grapes and pears hold the promise of an autumn harvest. The asters are coming up strong for a good showing to close out the summer.
Under stressful circumstances, the garden is working hard to deliver. I must move to do the same.
We’re just emerging from a brutal heatwave. Whew. This one was
fierce. If it weren’t for air-conditioning I’d be a blob of
melted flesh in migraine hell. I’m acutely aware of how heat
affects me and I’m so grateful for everything that allows me to
keep cool.
This got me to thinking about how the garden must cope when subjected to the stress of a heatwave. Do they sense when the temperatures are going to spike? I imagine they’re in better shape to deal with it if up until that time they’re provided with adequate water and decent soil conditions. Just as in humans, all other living things must face adversity better when they’re healthy. So, I figured my garden ought to at least be grateful for all the tender, loving care it receives all year round. Well, except when I’m on vacation, unwell, in the thick of other work or, being lazy. In general, the garden this year has little to complain about its human carers.
A timely thundershower just ahead of the heatwave saturated the ground handsomely. The roots must’ve plumped out and fed their above ground parts nicely. I was glad I’d deadheaded and cut back some vigorous growers recently. A round of weeding was accomplished as well. Therefore, at the end of the first super hot day, things did not look too bad. Some plants such as the Joe Pye appeared to droop but by late evening they perked up. I wonder if the roots slow down and measure out the water/nutrient supply when conditions are adverse. Then, when they sense that temperatures have dropped below the dangerous numbers, do they speeds up in damage control mode? Or, like me, do the plants have poor appetites when it is so hot? Perhaps when I’ve overcome my own heat related ennui I will research this matter – surely some laboratory must be studying the subject. The results could potentially help us deal with weather related challenges better.
I noticed that during the heatwave, there wasn’t much critter activity. I didn’t see many bees or butterflies and the birds seemed to be limiting their flights and singing. The heat brought on a quiet that seemed appropriate. I too was not inclined to exert much energy. The languor connected us all.
The potted plants received water daily. The high humidity kept the
ground from drying out but, the soil in the pots dried out. Those
plants must have been stressed so much more than their counterparts
in the ground. A friend had dropped off two pots of sizable hibiscus
a couple of days prior to the heatwave. Until now, they had always
been kept indoors so the fact that they were suddenly out in the open
must’ve been a shock. Despite being watered, within a day, the
leaves on top were wiped out – they got totally dry. So ahead of
the canicular days, they were given a cut back and moved to shadier
quarters resembling the indoors they were familiar with.
Fingers-crossed they will toughen up in due course. After all, they
hail originally from warmer climes.
Given water regularly, the vertical garden and tropicals ( in pots)
like the jasmine, gardenia and citrus seem unscathed by the high
heat. The perfume of the flowers of the jasmine and gardenia are
almost overpowering at the beginning and end of day. The lemons are
coming along nicely. The pelargoniums have also come through very
well. Ditto the tomatoes – we enjoyed the first crop of cherry
tomatoes over the weekend. And the meadow looks none the worse for
wear.
Any long term effect of the heatwave will no doubt make itself known. I’m hoping there won’t be any. And with any luck there will not be any more heatwaves either. But, I’m not holding my breath.
Note: I would love to see you at the reception to Small Works at The Stable Gallery, Ridgefield, NJon August 8. 7:00 – 9:00pm. The show runs August 2 – 29.
The
slow, sultry sway of summer has taken over
and it is sweeeet. I’ve taken my cues from the season and slowed my
pace, lightened my load and simplified my days. I get work done but
no new projects are started. Meals focus on fresh, easy to put
together ingredients. Garden chores are limited to only what is
needed – weekly weeding,
watering as required
and deadheading only what’s
obvious. The garden seems to be enjoying doing its own thing –
free-spirited, alive and lush. Kinda bohemian. I appreciate that.
Heck, I aspire to it.
I finally got around to cutting back the asters and other fall blooming perennials by one-third and more so they will be fuller and less leggy at that time. During the cut back, I noticed that the Sanguisorba was under attack by Japanese beetles and there was also a general over-presence of slugs. All the beetles I could see were picked off and dumped into a hot soap solution and then a neem oil spray treatment was applied to the plants right after. It’s been a few years since I’ve had to deal with Japanese beetles. Let’s hope the neem does the trick.
An
unexpected
positive outcome – the
allium sphaerocephalon were completely hidden until the asters were
cut back. Now, their deep maroon-purple heads lend bursts of color
amidst an otherwise
overwhelmingly green bed.
Speaking
of color, that maroon-purple hue is having a moment in the front
perennial beds. The echinacea, alliums, acanthus, butterfly bushes
and geraniums are all in variations of that shade. Soon the
Eupatorium will join in. It looks like I planned it that way but no,
I cannot take that credit. One of those happy accidents of nature
that I’ve come to rely on.
The
Swiss chard is showing up frequently at meals. Easy to cook and so
delicious. The first cherry tomatoes and figs have been savored and
now I’m impatient for a regular supply. Zucchini
blossoms
are the current
favorite. Stuffed with mildly
seasoned ricotta
and fried tempura style, they are just soooo good. Using the flowers
also prevents having the inevitable surplus of zucchini to contend
with later in the season. We leave only
a small number to reach fruition. Just enough for a few ratatouille
meals and several
loaves of tasty breads to sweeten winter mornings (the bread freezes
well).
I
made a big batch of arugula pesto last week. There was an abundance
of the leaves and it seemed a good thing to make. I froze a large
portion and refrigerated some of the pesto to use this week in pasta
and also in sandwiches. With all the outdoor concerts and plays we’re
attending, picnic meals need to be put together. Sandwiches of
arugula or basil pesto with sun-dried tomatoes with or without fresh
mozzarella elevate the repast.
And
yes, the mojito mint is thriving and being put to good use! FYI –
the leaves also make for an
appetizing Indian chutney that we
use in sandwiches and as a condiment to pair with crackers, samosas
and such.
Watching
the butterflies and bees make their rounds has become my go-to method
for decompressing. It’s very effective – I highly recommend it.
Ditto for spending some time taking in the show of fireflies at
night.
Before
you get lulled into taking it too easy, this is the time to order
bulbs for fall planting. It
might feel strange to think about next spring right now but take my
word – you will miss out on bagging some special and/or unusual
bulbs if you wait too long. It’s a nice thing to do when you’re
indoors in air-conditioned comfort on a sweltering hot day. You will
only be charged when the bulbs are shipped in the fall at the
appropriate planting time for your zone. So
just get it done!
Now, back to my summer reading and a tall glass of lemonade …
Note:I’m participating in two upcoming art shows in August and September. Do please mark your calendars to check them out.
It’s July. Fireworks, fireflies, picnics, barbecues, beaches and
books. In addition, for me, mosquitoes, mojitos, air-conditioning,
heat, humidity and guilt. I have very mixed feelings about summer.
The light filled days promise endless hours of outdoor pleasures and
the nights punctuated with bursts of firefly light and the fragrance
of summer phlox and gardenias bewitch and yet, I find myself banished
indoors for a good portion of the day seeking solace in
air-conditioned rooms redolent with gardenia in budvases and
rose-geranium infused lemonade. During the day, prone to migraines
triggered by the heat and humidity, I succumb easily to those
conditions. At night, the mosquitoes turn out in full force making it
near impossible to sit without itching and scratching. I’m loathe
to reach out for the only truly effective deterrent – a DEET spray.
Using it every now and then is fine but slathering it on everyday
makes me uneasy.
What works for me is to get some garden chores done in the cool,
early hours of the morning. It is actually quite pleasant working at
that time as the chorus of birds keep me company and the bees getting
a head start to their day inspire me to get cracking with my own. At
this mostly quiet period of the morning, I find myself occupied with
what needs doing whilst still enjoying the garden in its rather
riotous state of summer growth. A good couple of hours go by before
I’m made aware that I’m hot, uncomfortable and quite ready to
escape to cooler confines.
I’m certainly not inclined to deprive myself of the joys of
spending summer nights watching fireflies and inhaling the sweet
perfumes of flowers that I’ve grown for that very purpose.
Spritzing myself with a blend of citronella and cloves I go forth
into the evening. A fan is brought out to do double duty – deter all
flying bugs and keep us relatively comfortable in the circulating
air. The DEET spray is always on stand-by – it’s a love-hate
relationship.
At a party last week, I was introduced to a new anti-mosquito gadget
brought to the event for a test run by another friend. It seemed to
work as I was not bitten that evening. So I’ve purchased one for my
own use. Before I rush to endorse it, I shall use it a few times
first. Stay tuned.
To take advantage of the warmer months, I ease up on chores and find
myself slowing down my pace. More books are read, outdoor summer
concerts and plays replace screen-time almost entirely. It seems only
right to linger over al fresco meals and sip a cocktail or two slowly
as one walks around inspecting the garden. Impromptu picnics, sunset
viewings and star gazing stretch out the season. Time is taken to
savor the bounty from the garden and farm stand. I love to slowly
roast corn on the cob directly over the coals and then, with a
sprinkling of flakes of sea salt and a dusting of cayenne pepper
brightened with a splash of lime, it explodes in the mouth in a burst
of sweet, salty, spicy and sour. Divine. And how about a watermelon
salad tossed with fresh cherry tomatoes, feta and torn up basil? I
think I even eat ice cream more slowly and mindfully in summer than
at any other season.
While I’m reveling in the unhurried rhythm of summer, there is a
fair amount of guilt that shadows me. The garden looks like a small
child allowed to dress herself. Sweet but quite messy. I’m not
keeping up with the pace the plants grow and need deadheading,
staking and trimming. Weeds shoot up even as I work to keep them at
bay. The tiny lawn looks ragged beseeching me for a regular feed of
compost and the meadow quickly gets overrun by jewelweed smothering
out less aggressive but more desirable plants. Still consumed with
guilt, I’m determined to go on fully engaging with summer. It’s
all too short and I know I will regret it if I have too few memories
of it to keep me warm in winter.
And so I keep dancing with summer. Barefoot and guilty.
Note:Images of the neglected state of my garden – they should make you feel good about yours!
Exactly one week ago, it was frightfully hot with intermittent downpours that caused flash floods in my part of the country. We had to run the air-conditioners to mitigate the oppressive heat and humidity. Today, it is cool and dry – cool enough that the heat has been turned on. Kinda crazy right?
In the garden, the fall flowers are still blooming nicely and things are generally green. Not much leaf color at all. Are the vivid colors of the season ever going to make a showing? Hiking at a local preserve yesterday, there wasn’t much to indicate that summer was well over. I’m afraid we might just transit straight to brown and bare which would be such a shame. After all, the best reason to love autumn is that display of sunset hues lighting up the landscape. One likely feels cheated. Give us one last celebration before we move indoors to hibernate please!
The soil is not quite ready for bulb planting – the ground temperature needs to be around 55 degrees. In fact, the shipments of bulbs haven’t even arrived. While the greenhouse is fully occupied with tender plants and the heat is keeping them warm, it feels as though the remaining seasonal work is at a standstill of sorts. There’s too much that’s looking good to be cut down just yet. Despite the current cold weather, I keep thinking we might still have a few more days of milder temperatures so I’m holding off putting away the outdoor chairs.
It’s a bit unsettling to be thrown off the normal schedule of seasonal garden chores. However, the bigger worry is how this erratic behavior of the climate will impact globally. From migrating birds and animals to farmers planning their crops there will be an effect that will ultimately affect us all. I’m also concerned that all that humidity and warm conditions that was our summer will spawn disease and a glut of pests. One can no longer ignore the signs – each of us bears a responsibility to care. Care enough to do something. Every bit of action will matter. From conserving water and other resources, preserving and protecting the land, reusing, planting predominantly native plants, recycling and reducing all waste … you know what I’m saying. It worries me that the problem is seen by too many as not in our control or that we humans do not play a part. If we are willing to listen to the scientists about new cancer treatments and developments why then do so many resist their warnings and reports about climate change? We might not be able to reverse the change in the near future but, at the very least we’ve got to try to stop it from getting worse.
Not making any effort would be inexcusable. After all, if ones own home were threatened would we do nothing? Well then, Earth is the big home and the only one we’ve got. So let’s get busy. This is a call to action.
I’ve felt all along that 2018 seems to be rushing. Yet, the fact that it’s already October is taking me by surprise. It’s going to be a very busy month in the garden. Much to get done before putting the garden to bed.
Just for a moment, allow me to bask in the afterglow of September’s final weekend. The weather could not have been more perfect. The sun shone bright, the birds winged their way around in jubilant song, the air was kissed dry and cool and, the plants sparkled. It was breathtaking.
The first annual Untermyer symposium “Great American Public Gardens – Successes and Challenges” that I’d been so excited about, was thoroughly enjoyable. I had a blast picking the brains of three of the rock stars of the horticultural world. Discussing their very different, uniquely gorgeous public gardens, Louis Bauer of Wave Hill Gardens, Andi Pettis of the High Line and Timothy Tilghman of Untermyer enlightened, informed and entertained an audience consisting mainly of gardeners both professional and amateur. The feedback I received was most gratifying – I think a wonderful annual tradition has been established. FYI – Untermyer is looking spectacular. Do go visit.
Then, on Sunday, a good seasonal start was made in my garden. The greenhouse was thoroughly cleaned in preparation for the plants that will reside in it through the winter. Said plants will be ‘power washed’ to remove debris and stowaway bugs, relieved of dead limbs, given a trim and, brought into their winter quarters during the week. An unexpected frost could occur anytime soon and I’d hate to lose any of these plants. FYI – in order to prep the greenhouse, it had to be emptied of the pots of tomato plants. Before tossing the plants on the compost heap, all of the still green tomatoes were harvested, individually wrapped in newspaper and, placed in a single layer on a shelf in a cool, dry place in the basement where they will ripen.
Work was also started on the meadow. Lots of weeds were removed, some plants like violas and wood anemones were ruthlessly thinned out and a few ornamental grasses and geums planted. More native grasses and perennials will be added in the spring. A few selectvarieties of plants and grasses but in quantity. In my mind, I think it’ll look more dramatic with swathes of grasses intermingled with flowering perennials. We shall wait and see.
A good half day’s work deserved a just reward. The rest of the day was spent in the garden of longtime friends. We lingered over a late, leisurely lunch, all sorts of libations, many spirited discussions on a myriad topics and a highly competitive game of Scrabble. We watched Monarch butterflies fuel up in the garden before their arduous flight to Mexico and a host of birds provided background music to our party. This is why we garden!
Perfect. Let October begin its reign.
Note: Save the date – November 2! That’s the reception to my art show. Details will be posted next week!
The autumnal equinox happened this past Saturday and with that, we’ve officially moved into the season. As if on cue, the temperatures dipped and it has been gloriously nippy. Yes, fall is in the air.
I celebrated by swapping out the summer window-boxes with autumnal ones and bringing home from the local nursery a vast array of gourds and pumpkins for adorning. These simple efforts have set the tone and I’m fully invested in getting on with the season’s activities.
With the ‘meadow’ now more opened up to light, I’m working on a list of native plants to add. I’ve ordered a few plants but the majority of the new additions will be obtained in the spring when its easier to get small plants that are not as hurtful to my pocketbook. The very large bulb order will arrive by mid-October so, before that time of planting, I intend to have the meadow cleared of the over-enthusiastic residents and with them the thuggish weeds. This is easier said than done because the wanted and unwanted plants are a jumble and sorting through will be a test of my patience and commitment.
I’m also looking sternly at the borders to see what needs to be moved/divided and what needs to be added to give them a more natural, cohesive appearance. It’s time to cut back many plants like the peonies and irises. More will be ready as the season progresses. I’m keeping an eye on the acanthus that looks ripe with seeds – I’d like to see if I can make more of them. For fun.
The drop in temperature has jolted me to the realization that the greenhouse needs to be cleaned and prepped for the plants returning to their winter residence. A frost can happen without notice and I’ll be very sorry if I lost plants due to sheer negligence. However, at present, the tomato plants are going strong in the greenhouse. There are still lots of fruit in various stages of ripeness. I’m torn between harvesting the fruit as is or waiting a bit longer. Maybe a week tops. Cannot hold up everything for the temperamental tomatoes. Yet, I’ve been enjoying eating them so much that I’m suffused with guilt for considering harsh action against the plants.
Russian and curly kale seeds have been sown afresh – they should be ready for picking well before winter truly settles in.
I’ve also got hyacinths cooling in the refrigerator – they’ll be ready for forcing in mid-January just in time to bring cheer to the post-holiday slump.
The newly seeded grass is coming up nicely and will be established by leaf raking time.
We’ve lost all our apples and pears to the vandalizing squirrels. This year, instead of covering the trees with ugly netting, I decided to experiment with the reusable bags from Japan. I’m guessing they don’t have the same hooligan squirrels that we have here. Every bag was shredded and littered all over the neighborhood. Nets will return next year.
Indoors, I’m getting ready to can tomatoes and have started to cull the recipes that call for hard-skin squashes, pumpkins and root vegetables. The sweaters and throws are coming out of closets and soon the fireplace will be called into service.
But for now, I’m still basking in the last few summer-tinged days. I want to hold on to the sounds of the birds in the morning, the perfume of the remaining roses at midday and the glow of the white phlox at sunset. Those memories will keep this gardener warm through the cold days of winter.
Note – Looking forward to seeing you at the symposium this Saturday, September 29!
Wet, humid, moist, damp, sticky, yucky. That about describes the way it is outside and how I feel about it. The weatherperson may talk about the sun being out and how it makes for “gorgeous” weather but, I’m not falling for it. It is so humid and buggy that every time I venture out, I’m attacked by all sorts of biting insects and covered in a sticky film of moisture within minutes. No kidding. This must be what it feels like to live inside a kitchen sponge. I’m trying not to be too grumpy about it.
Surveying my garden post-vacation, I notice that the flowers on the oak-leaf hydrangeas look toasted. They’re brown and crispy. The last heat wave must’ve done that. Meanwhile, ‘Limelight’, a paniculata hydrangea looks lovely. The pale green blooms are just beginning to turn rosy – a sure sign that fall is approaching. I must remember to bring some in to cheer up a dark corner in the living room.
The Concord grapes that looked so promising a month ago have succumbed to the weather and/or birds. No jam this season. The plants on the wall garden however, seems to have held strong-ish despite some glitches in the watering system while we were away.
A few days before we left, we took down a tree in the back. This has really opened up the ‘meadow’ and the sun can now gaze benevolently on it. I’d been eager to see how this part of the garden was doing under the new conditions. The turtle-heads and jewelweeds are blooming – their respective pink and orange are actually looking quite nice together. The surprise was that some Rose-of-Sharon have self-seeded and are in bloom. While these flowers look fetching, they must be removed from this area and replanted elsewhere. I’m thrilled to see the Calycarpa americana looking resplendent – the pink berries along the stems glisten like jewels in the sunlight. There is much work to be done in the meadow. Thuggish plants and weeds that took over under the auspices of that overpowering tree have to be eliminated. This will make room for specific native plants I’m really keen to establish here. In a month, bulb planting must happen. I sincerely hope weather conditions improve soon – the bugs are brutal at present.
The tropical hibiscus in a pot is also doing very well. Given the heat and humidity, it must think it is back in its native home. For some reason, the tomatoes are yet to ripen. Lots of green fruit. I ate such delicious tomatoes everyday in Provence and I’m hoping to do the same in my own garden. But, making up a batch of fried, green tomatoes won’t be such a bad thing either.
In front, the lawn was looking atrocious. So the first order of business was to rake up and reseed. The summer phlox is in full flower and yesterday, I spent some blissful time watching a hummingbird flirt outrageously with them. The eupatorium flower-heads look kinda fried but the solidago is blazing a fine gold. The asters are loaded with buds and just beginning to bloom.
Weeding is underway and some general order has been restored. All in all, wet weather notwithstanding, I’m pleased to see that the garden has not suffered too dearly. Maybe I should worry less and go away more.
I’m basking in that late summer – early autumnal glow here in Europe, it’s harvesting time both in gardens and farms. The crops are at peak and crates have been positioned ready to receive their bounty. Vegetable gardens and orchards are burgeoning and hold all the promise of family meals and healthy living. The horridly hot summer of 2018 is hopefully making a timely exit. I return home in a day and will do my very best to bring along some more seasonal weather. No promises!
After a glorious three weeks of R&R, I’m looking forward to getting back to home and garden. There’s plenty awaiting my attention and I know that all too soon my vacation will seem as though it happened a long time ago. At that point, I’ll just have to start dreaming of my next trip. For now, I’m ready and raring to get started on fall planting, seed collecting and clean-up. With any luck the squirrels will have spared us some apples and pears to enjoy and just maybe the birds haven’t completely polished off all of the concord grapes. Oh the perils of going away in summer.
Note: Hope you’ve reserved your spot for the symposium on September 29. I’m so excited about it – it’ll be fun, informative and a great opportunity to meet new and old garden-minded friends.
Enjoy these September images from France and the Netherlands: