Showing posts with label lilies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lilies. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Finding the Blooms in July.

Today is Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, hosted by May Dreams Gardens. Usually, my biggest problem for July's Bloom Day is the overbearing South Carolina drought. 

Not this year.

This year, my challenge is to find blooms in the garden that haven't melted away due to the enormous amounts of rain Upstate SC is experiencing. Did you hear the sad new about the South Carolina Botanical Garden? They recently installed the Natural Heritage Garden, an exhibit that included many rare and endangered plants, and the torrential rains caused horrific damage to the garden.  If you'd like to donate to help rebuild the garden, you can find information here.

Crazy, crazy weather.

Still, even with our daily deluge of rain, I found a few blooms to share with you.



Casa Blanca lilies...my favorite. I fear a vole snacked on many of the bulbs, because these are the only few that I've seen this year.


The large kitchen garden is a tumble of overgrowth and unripe tomatoes. Honestly, the foliage is lush and green, particularly in the herb garden at the front of the raised beds.


The flowering herbs are major pollinator havens.
 

But although the garden is green and bursting with vines, everything is late. I've yet to find one cucumber. Last July, we were already searching for recipes to use up our insane harvest of cucumbers.


Tonight, we ate the first beans harvested from our Three Sisters Garden. The corn definitely likes the rain, but the squash vines below melted. I planted more squash seeds, hoping for a fall harvest.





I can only hope that the veggie garden experiences a quick burst of productivity in the bit of sun that reached it today. Bruschetta is calling my name...but I need my heirloom tomatoes to ripen! 



Everyone is confused. Typically, by July the gardenias are sleeping. Not this year--they continue to infuse the air with their delicious scent. 


In the newly planted pollinator garden, the monarda is a good example of too much rain. Don't you just want to hand it a towel? Poor thing.


The lemon balm, while usually just a bit of a nuisance, truly became a bully this summer due to all of the rain. Fortunately, its tiny blooms attract lovely little pollinators, so I'm giving it a warning. If it continues its ill behavior, there WILL be consequences.


The tall verbena is bent over, beaten by the rain. I'm too embarrassed to show you the full photo, because it proves that I'm a softie for trying anything to keep a few blooms in the garden, even when they need to be yanked out by the roots. I keep crossing my fingers that I'll walk out tomorrow morning, and it will be standing at attention, nice and straight.

I know. I'm pitiful.


'Rozanne' seems to have withstood the worst of the rain. 


But even the poor stargazers are too saturated to last long in bloom. 

Sigh. 


The blooms of the phlox also succumbed to the rain. Surprisingly, though, I haven't battled powdery mildew on the plant like I normally do.
 

Also, I'm typically battling black spot by now on the roses--but so far, not this year.


The buddleia seems to enjoy the gallons of water each day, thankfully. Our bees and butterflies congregated on the three bushes today, making me think I should keep the Epi-Pen a little closer while I took photos.

Fortunately, the bees were too busy with the flowers to bother with me. 


The beautiful daylilies I recently purchased revolted against their soggy new home. They're growing well, but they refuse to show their pretty faces. Yeesh, what prima donnas. These few daylilies planted last year were kind enough to add a bit of color to the perennial bed.




However, my trusty friends, the Japanese anemones, are preparing for an early show. They're full of buds, just about to burst any day. 
 

The little ice plant isn't loving all of the water, but it's a trooper and continues to produce a few cheerful blooms...
 

...and the gaura also tries to hang in there for me, withstanding the moisture and the attack of Japanese beetles. 



Have I ever mentioned how much I despise Japanese beetles?


Fortunately, the nasty beetles haven't damaged the lantanas throughout the garden. However, only the lantana in the mailbox garden is blooming. The others need Mr. Sun to shine down on them to encourage some color. Soon.







Now, we all know hydrangeas should enjoy water...right? For about a week, the hydrangeas looked magnificent. The Brides Blushed beautifully, the Twist & Shout partied hard in the garden, cute little Pee Gee beamed with blooms in the shade, and the oakleaf bushes drooped dramatic cones.

And then, the lovely flowers turned mushy.  

So. Depressing.



Thank goodness for the garden cheerleaders! Bright little Black-Eyed Susan vines add a touch of cheer in hanging baskets...


...while perky purple coneflowers refuse to melt under duress. 
 

I admit, I often curse rudbeckia. It's such a bully in the front perennial bed. The more I thin it, the more prevalent it becomes.

However, I'm rethinking my aversion to it. It's been a trooper during the summer storms, and I have to give it credit for the bright, lovely patch of cheer it's added to the entryway. 



Both Rose of Sharon bushes just began blooming--and they're heavy with buds. Thank goodness. I need some color in the back sitting area.


Mandevilla is so reliable. Honestly, I love this vine by the pool. Even the rain can't dampen its spirits.



The poor hardy hibiscus, though...it experienced a tough spring. First, the leaves served as a snack for every caterpillar and Japanese beetle in the garden until the leaves resemble lace. Then, the rain makes the blooms rather...sad. Normally, they're so perky and cheerful, but right now they just look so tired from the effort of opening.

  
My very happy surprise, however, is a new addition to the back garden by the pool: blackberry lily. A gift from my friend Janet's garden (aka The Queen of Seaford), these adorable little lilies produced blooms one week after transplanting them--and they just keep on going without complaint. I think they may be my new favorite plant! 

How's the weather in your garden? Wishing you rain (but not too much), pleasant days, and happy blooms!

XOXO ~

Julie


Wednesday, February 15, 2012

A Blooming Escape from the Winter Blues


It's been a strange morning. I'm not sure if it's the lack of good sleep or a severe sugar crash after yesterday's festivities, but boy—I need some motivation. Do you ever have those days when you have so much to do that you just can't start? That's me today. An overwhelming amount of projects coupled with a hint of melancholy—I feel a little like I have postpartum depression this morning. Is that possible, six years—eek, almost seven years!--after the last munchkin arrived?

Hmm. Perplexing.

So, in honor of Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, hosted by the lovely May Dreams Gardens, I decided to combat my lethargy as I did in my long ago post-baby days.



When our girlie arrived almost 11 years ago, Hatcher Garden was my escape. Since our darling daughter tended to nap only when lulled to sleep in a car, I'd bundle her up, drive to the garden, and carefully transfer the car seat onto the stroller. We'd stroll a bit until we came to this area:


Then, while she napped, I'd read and enjoy the change of scenery.

Hatcher Garden truly saved my sanity on many days.

 


Founded by Harold and Josephine Hatcher, the garden is a three-acre gem tucked into the westside of Spartanburg, SC. The Hatchers moved to South Carolina in 1969, purchased a small home, and then expanded their property by buying three acres behind their lot--for $2,000. The land, a former cotton field, required extensive work to turn it into a usable garden space. The Hatchers amended the soil, built paths and ponds, and planted more than 10,000 trees, shrubs, and flowers.

(They certainly didn't laze away their retirement!)

In the 1970s, community volunteers joined forces with the Hatchers to expand their vision for the garden. They designed trails, a series of ponds, and added more trees. A gazebo became a focal point upon entering the garden, new flower beds were added, and a wildflower garden became Josephine's pet project.


In 1987, the Hatchers donated the property to the Spartanburg County Foundation. The Hatcher Garden and Woodland Preserve became the official name of the garden, honoring the couple whose vision provided a retreat for school children, workers on lunch breaks—and new moms with their babies.


When Josephine died in 1999, Harold restored the wildflower garden in her memory.

When Harold died in 2003 at the age of 96, he gave his life's savings to endow the future of the garden.

While there are many private gardens that become community sanctuaries, the beauty of the Hatchers' garden lies its humble beginnings. The Hatchers weren't wealthy landowners—they simply loved to garden. And they worked diligently to share their love with the community.

The last time I went to the garden was in October. Once or twice a year, my amazingly talented friend, Jessie, takes photos of the kiddos. (You can see her work here.)
Let me tell you: our kids give Jessie a work out. Still, she manages photos that make our children look sweet and civilized...



 
 

...but I actually love these honest photos even more, because they capture our kids' crazy personalities so well! 


Anyway...

When I strolled through the garden today, thinking that Hatcher Garden would be a perfect location to find blooms, I was amazed at the changes:

The Garden of Hope and Healing...
 
 
...plus dozens of newly paved paths, water features, and memorials.

When Peter and I first visited Hatcher Garden years ago, we took our oldest son (who is now 21) to scout for turtles. He was in a serious turtle obsession at the time. Once, when we were poking around in the ponds and not having any luck, we met an elderly gentleman who guided us to a different pond to help ensure our turtle hunting success.

Mr. Hatcher.

The garden has changed. It's more formal, more structured. Master Gardeners flock there to volunteer. School groups are guided through the garden by horticulturalists. And now, signs like this are a feature at the ponds:



I wonder if Mr. Hatcher would approve?

Still, the camellias were lovely.





After my visit, I felt better. Maybe it was the change of scenery, maybe it was a dose of vitamin D. Maybe it was the realization that spring is only 33 days away.

Also, I realized that while I bemoan winter, I'm pretty lucky here in Upstate SC. After a quick walk through our yard, I found plenty of blooms to share for Bloom Day.

Crocus...



Hyacinth...


Ice Follies Daffodils galore...

Muscari...

Hellebores in every shady corner...and we have a lot of shady corners!

 

Tulips, popping their heads out of the soil...


Forsythia buds...
 

Daphne. OK, technically, it's not mine. I'm claiming this daphne, even though it's not in our yard. The fragrance reaches our front door from the neighbors' yard...delicious.


Daylilies, popping up a little early....

Iris, "Harmony," I believe...
  
Blueberry buds...

And look! Fraise des Bois are producing flowers already! Bliss!


Of course, my days are mostly spent in the greenhouse, prepping my babies for the selling season ahead. Sweet Peas, ready to pot up...
 

160 varieties of heirloom tomatoes...future bruschetta factories!


Basil...is it summer yet? Why yes, when I run my hands over these babies, it smells like June.

Nasturtiums in every color...

And heirloom hollyhocks, also ready for bigger homes.

And finally, the kitchen garden is still hanging in there, even after some 20 degree nights.
Pac Choi...(and weeds.) 

Rainbow Chard...

Broccoli...grow, baby, grow!

Huh. I didn't need to leave our yard to participate in bloom day after all.

But I'm glad I did.

My funk faded, and I've gotten a few things accomplished.

Finally, I loved this stone that I found at the entrance to the Garden of Hope and Healing. The words, in memory of a loved one, somehow spoke to me today.

Happy Bloom Day, everyone!

XO ~

Julie

P.S. If you'd like to know more about Harold Hatcher, this is a lovely book: