The Tree

Damage from Hurricane Irene.

Around the corner from my house, a tree fell during Hurricane Irene, blocking the entire roadway.  By fortune, the tree did not land on a car or a house or power lines.  Had the wind shifted, had the break happened a little bit lower on the trunk, who knows what damage that tree could have caused.

Still, there is something sad about the loss of a tree.  As I looked at the site, I was taken by not only the enormity of the tree, but also by its age.  They say that by examining the rings of a tree, you can see the tree’s life, when it was a wet year or a dry year.  But the rings certainly can’t tell you what that tree came to mean to so many people; rings cannot tell you what any tree means to any person.

Staring at the tree, I thought about the trees in my own life.  There was the fir tree in the backyard, under which I would play with Matchbox cars and Tonka trucks, building roads so that a large root became an overpass.  There was the maple tree in the front yard, which would ignite with fiery leaves each autumn.  We would then rake the leaves into a huge pile and run and jump into the pile, or even have a leaf war with friends across the street.  My friend Thomas had a tree that was perfect for climbing, giving young minds a wh0le new view of life in suburbia.  My friend Bobby had a tree house, a simple platform high off the ground, a refuge from summer play and heat.

Bloomin’ Update 9: Hydrangeas Hate Hurricanes

It’s the day before Hurricane Irene is forecasted to slam into Long Island.  I took advantage of the calm before the storm to give my plants a little pep talk.  I wanted to prepare them for what Jim Cantore and the folks at the Weather Channel said we could expect.  I wanted to encourage them to stand strong against the wind and the rain, that we would get through this together, and to rest easy that sunny skies will return.  I was especially impressed with the Hydrangeas, all of which put on an outstanding show this summer.  That’s why they were featured so heavily in many of the “Bloomin’ Update” posts.

Hydrangeas are my favorite flowering shrub.  I love the fullness of their blooms, the variety of their colors, the look and the feel they bring to the  landscape, and the length of time they hold onto the stem until their glory fades away.  Now, in the waning days of summer with a hurricane breathing down our necks, I offer you a  last look at some of my Hydrangeas, their vibrant colors now antiqued and slightly withered.  We should all be fortunate enough to age this gracefully.

I know this post is about Hydrangeas, and this is a Zinnia -- but with Hurricane Irene on its way, there wasn't enough time to argue with a flower that wanted a moment in the spotlight.

 

For anyone dealing with the hurricane, please stay safe.  Like I told my plants, we’ll get through this together and sunny skies are around the corner.  At least that’s what Jim Cantore keeps saying.

Bloomin’ Update 8: Summer Finale

At this stage of the summer, I feel as if I am as exhausted as the plants in the yard.  In fact, I am hard-pressed to find blooms that have not already been photographed and posted in previous “Bloomin’ Updates.”  But the task was not completely impossible, thanks to some friends, some surprises, and some guests.

This Pineapple Lily was given to me by friends, Catherine & Robert, when they arrived for dinner. I had never heard of a pineapple lily, but after reading up on it, I learned that they are from South Africa and require little care. In my cold hardiness zone, however, I will have to bring it indoors for the winter, and then restart the growing in the spring. I'll keep you posted on this new project.

 

Last year, I planted a bed of Celosia "China Town." This year, I was treated to this surprise, self-sown, and very proud of its hot red stem. Yes, I could have weeded this out, but if a seed has managed to live against all odds, then it deserves the chance to live its full cycle. That being said, I think I'll plant them again next year. A full bed of red leaves, red flowers, and red stems truly looked gorgeous.

 

 

I know this is technically not a bloom, but try explaining that to this guy. This spider creates a web each night. Joe and I tried to get a photo, so between my camera flashing and Joe's holding a flashlight, this is what we captured. The spider and the web seem to sparkle.

 

Never mind Broadway's "Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark," this spider is probably telling us to turn off the light.

 

 

We turned off the light, and surprised ourselves with this photo. Actually, I'm okay with spiders, as long as they keep their webs away from where I have to walk. There's nothing like walking to the car and going face-first into a web.

A Boy & His Bug: It’s Like A Little Prayer

Now, don't start changing my station.

I admit.  I’ve been a little out of sorts lately, and it’s more than it being August and all.  It’s just — well – summer is almost over and I have yet to see my Praying Mantis.  Until today!

This morning, Joe and I packed up the truck with tools and a ladder to help my niece and her fiance repair their wood deck.  When we arrived at their house, and unloaded the truck, I opened up the ladder — and there he/she was.  My Praying Mantis, in all of his jointed glory.

My niece’s fiance was impressed; he hadn’t seen a Praying Mantis in a long time.  What’s a Mantis maniac to do?  Hand over my Praying Mantis as a house-warming gift?  Or, take my big-eyed beauty back home?  Hmmmm, I pondered.  Perhaps I needed to make like a Mantis and pray.  What would Jesus do?  What would a gardener do?  What would Jesus do if He hadn’t seen His Praying Mantis in His garden for a long time?

Searching For Peace On Common Ground

The path leading to the Peace Labyrinth.

I was Googling the other day, looking for information on labyrinth gardens and I was surprised to find one practically in my backyard.  I took the short drive to visit The Common Ground, a community garden in Sayville, NY.  Its philosophy is simple: “A place where getting to know your neighbor is as easy as a walk in the park.”

Through the efforts of volunteers, grants, and donations, the park is a social-cultural haven for the  local community.  Nestled in a quiet residential neighborhood, the garden was born in the wake of September 11, 2001, when local residents wanted

The Peace Labyrinth at the Common Ground Garden in Sayville, NY.

to create something positive for the larger community.  As more and more people and local organizations became involved, and with the help of fundraising, the little-used Rotary Park became a centerpiece for all.  Today, the garden welcomes visitors to enjoy yoga, concerts, and movies.  

If the pavilion in the center of the park is its crown, then the Peace Garden Labyrinth is the jewel.  The brainchild of Marianne Fulfaro, who designed, laid out, and funded the project in memory of her parents, the labyrinth is constructed of paving stones and red gravel.  To reach it, visitors walk down a paver path that is lined with shrubs

Echinacea along the path to the Peace Labyrinth.

and flowering perrenials, all planted by volunteers under the guidance of local master gardener Nancy Angermaier.  At the labyrinth’s start is a plaque with instructions on how to walk the circuitous path.

With a history dating back thousands of years, the labyrinth is symbolic of life’s journey.  While a maze has dead ends, the labyrinth offers the traveler a neverending path.  As the journey begins, the walker is faced with twists and turns, each one bringing the individual closer to the center and then sending them further away. 

I especially liked the blue of the evergreen and the yellow of the Black-Eyed Susans.

Ultimately, the center is reached.  The goal is that through a meditative walk, a visitor will feel more calm and centered, maybe even walking away with a solution to something that has weighed heavily upon his or her mind.

 The Common Ground Park and Peace Labyrinth is a true testament of what a community park can and should be.  For more information, please visit their website.  To find a labyrinth garden in your area, check out World-Wide Labyrinth Locator.  Special thanks to Suzanne Robilotta, this year’s Common Ground president, for helping me to fill in the gaps.

 

Bloomin’ Update 7: Before & After

I can never tell which I enjoy looking at more: the unopened bud or the full bloom. 

There’s something very exciting about looking at an unopened flower.  There’s promise and wonder and anticipation.  It’s like staring at a gift with your name on it that’s been sitting under the Christmas tree for weeks — only you can’t shake it or pry open the wrapping paper to get a peak.  But you know in your heart, that tied up in that puckered green bundle is a treasure of pure beauty: the flower that you always wanted. 

Since it is better to give than to receive, may I present two buds and the two ensuing blooms in the mid-August garden.

Before: Teddy Bear Sunflower

 

After: Teddy Bear Sunflower

 

Before: "Vancouver" Dahlia

 

After: "Vancouver" Dahlia

                                                              

Book Review: Anthill Antics In Alabama

A few weeks ago, I saw an excellent review of a new book, Anthill, by E.O. Wilson.  Still, after reading the review, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get bogged down in a book about ants and an environmentalist.  That’s what I thought until the other day, when I visited my local library and saw the title on the new book shelf.  Clearly it was calling me, and I took a chance.  I’m glad that I did.

The novel traces the life of  Raff Cody, an inquisitive, eco-friendly young man living “on the Gulf Coastal Plain, on the fringe of the North American subtropics,” also known as Alabama.  Throughout his boyhood, Raff is completely enamored of an undeveloped piece of pristine Alabama land.  His commitment to his environment follows him through high school into college, then onto Harvard Law and into corporate America. 

What is truly stunning in Mr. Wilson’s first work of fiction is the care the Pulitzer Prize-winning author takes in describing and celebrating the rich biodioversity that often comes into conflict with developers.  While most of the book follows the efforts of Raff to preserve his piece of the planet while balancing his corporate responsibilities, one section can stand on its own as an impressive piece of writing.

Angst In August

“What’s wrong?” 

That was the first question Joe, my partner, asked me the other day.  At first, I didn’t think anything was wrong, other than I felt a little sluggish and unmotivated to do anything.  Then I looked at the calendar.  August. 

I’m quite conflicted when it comes to the 8th month of the year.  I know it’s still summer, which I’m thrilled about, but inside I feel dread and sadness, as if the clock has begun ticking on the garden around me.   And once that thought takes hold, all other melancholic ideas start to sprout.  To put it simply, I’m summer saturated.

For starters, everything in the yard looks overgrown.  The Sunflowers can’t stretch any higher, and they are so crowded and top heavy that they are all falling over at odd slants.  The leaves on the trees are dull green.  Most of the annuals look tired.  The grass is burnt.   The Hydrangea flower heads have started to fade away.  Everything looks sloppy.  My impulse is to go out there and rip everything out of the ground and start all over again with new seedlings.  But that would be ridiculous.  As it is, the days of these plants are already numbered.

Then there is the change in shadow.  As the Earth and Sun have done their celestial dance on the way to the autumnal equinox, I have noticed that where there once was sun, there is now shade.  Just ask the Gazanias.  A week ago, they basked in hours and hours of summer sun.  Now, the shadow of the house lingers a little longer over their bed.

And let’s not forget about the quiet changes in weather.  While the days are still warm, nighttime temperatures have begun their subtle decline.  On some mornings, I can smell the faintest whisp of fall in the air. 

That is, perhaps, where most of my hostility toward August stems from: I know what’s coming.  Leaves will start to change, tropicals will have to be dug and stored for the winter, terracotta pots will need to be cleaned and packed away,  nights will become longer.  I can practically feel Light Deprivation Disorder bubbling up.

Bloomin’ Update 6: Glad To See Ya

There’s a lot happening in these early days of August, and here are some photos to prove it.

Gladioli Take The Stage:

I Canna Live Without You

My favorite Canna of them all: red leaves and red flowers.