Three years ago, I planted a Redbud in an open area of the woodlands, under some oak and pine. I wait for its tiny pink blossoms and feel relieved when a few appear. They say Redbuds are slow to establish themselves. Cultivated by the Wampanoags for their edible flowers and […]
The mass of greenery is actually carefully cultivated chaos. I favor pachysandra, elderberry, sweet pepper bush, something evergreen with stinky white flowers, ornamental cherry trees, hosta, and the cedar tree. I rip out ivy, green brier, honeysuckle, errant maple and oak, and bittersweet. Pachysandra is a soft evergreen ground cover,
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Mid Spring, and the Garden is blooming. I love my weigela blossoms. My Gram had a weigela in her yard, and she would call me outside to see it bloom. I of course was resentful and sulky for this interruption. I made it clear to her that I could not
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I want to build a compost area, yet I am flummoxed by the prospect. Why do I have such a block about building a compost heap? As with anything, once I actually build one or two, I will have the hang of it. I could build a fish pond in
This morning is gray, windy, and fifty. I wore a trench coat and wool hat on my walk, and took no garden photos. The only thing I saw growing with vigor was poison ivy, which appeared suddenly on a vine ripping through the Persephone Garden and rocketing up a tree.
