Fifty And Free

Just over one quarter of a century ago, fifty and free was my frequently spoken motto.  The purchase of thirty-six acres consisting mostly of glacial deposits that were anything but flat was where I intended to spend my retirement years.  In my relative youth we found outdoor activities during all four seasons.  February frequently found us outside hiking on snowshoes or riding down the steep slopes on our Swiss Bob sleds.  Now the wisdom that sometimes comes with age finds us mostly looking out of the windows.  That is not all bad as yesterday we saw our fox.

Maidenhair spleenwort is the first pictured plant.  It has been with us for several years and all of these transplants survived.  In nature it occurs close to fractures in bedrock stone cliffs.  In our wildflower garden, we first built the broken stone level surface then the wall.  Finding a green growing plant outside today was quite a thrill.  The tiny red spheres are Sumac berries that have fallen from the trees that make this area a shade garden.  Both birds and rodents see them as winter food.  They are bright bits of red color.

This Woodland phlox has an interesting history here.  Many years ago Becky was weeding around the base of a new transplant when she broke off a piece of it.  I was instructed to find a place to plant this rootless piece if green expecting that it would certainly perish.  It was regularly watered and look at it now.  The fallen Oak leaves grew on a tree located on the other side of the lane.  The phlox grows inside of a wire fence circle since the deer find it tasty.

Rattlesnake plantain has been with us for years.  One purchased plant became several but they all remain tiny.  A natural location finds them growing at a much higher elevation but nothing can be done about that issue.  Perhaps a light deposit of crushed limestone would improve their appearance here.  Although they have never flowered, their veined leaves are attractive year round.  They certainly lifted my spirits today.

This is a purchased fern whose label stone is hidden under Fall litter.  Becky's memory says Polypody but that name has no meaning to me but is correct.  The lighter colored undersides of several leaves display brown spore circles that appear to be actively providing material for new plants.  So far this plant has been well behaved and is only slowly expanding its ground.

 

A Locust tree fence rail is home for this lichen.  It has a visual appeal but its presence on tree trunks is a sign the tree is approaching death.  Nothing can be done to halt that process so we feel only a small measure of guilt for providing the lichen with a home.

This moss covered stone was planted here to define the edge of the planting area.  The glaciers left huge deposits of stones similar to this one on our land.  The smooth rounded surface speaks of this stone's long trip in torrents of melt water.  The size of stones similarly placed as path edging has diminished out of the reality of the impact of age on the gardener.  We had to walk on smooth wet slippery ice to take these pictures.  A slow careful pace while firmly grasping tree trunks kept us upright.  Our outside temperature reached fifty degrees today and for awhile we were free to move among some of our plants.

A Promise Of Spring

Perhaps we are experiencing a genuine January thaw since the driveway has softened.  If snow precedes cold weather's return we will be plowing gravel.  Finding flower buds is a much more pleasant experience than worrying about snow removal.  Pinxter is a native plant that forms its flower buds prior to the onset of winter.  This picture also includes spent brown colored seed hulls from last year.  Just what advantage is realized by carrying flower buds exposed to the entire winter remains completely unknown here.  It is simply one of the marvels of plants.

This picture of the same bush was taken last June.  Look carefully and you will find the same stones in both pictures.  Both the sight and remembered scent of these flowers is something worth waiting for.  If these buds can survive winter so can we.

Despite the century old belief that Arbutus cannot be successfully transplanted, this recently moved plant is thriving.  Its white flower buds at this time of year serve an easily understood purpose.  Early appearing flowers need a head start.  Their perfume defies description and is well worth waiting for.  Chewed leaves show that evergreen leaves serve as a food source when little green remains.

Yesterday remaining snow cover kept these Snow Drop's early growth hidden.  Moved here last season, they were expected to survive the move.  They are not native to North America but their early white flowers will be welcome here.  Those red Sumac seed berries paint quite a picture.  We will be weeding out buckets of new trees.

Daffodils are not native here either but no garden would be complete without them.  A friend buys a big bag of these bulbs each year and plants them in her woods.  She now has a huge display of bright flowers on land that really serves no other gardening purpose.  As these photos show, Spring is definitely coming here reasonably soon.

Still Here Waiting For Spring

2020 is a year that I never expected to see.  In 2005 cancer was found on both kidneys.  I found in Albany a skilled doctor that used two procedures that removed only the cancer.  88% of my original kidney mass remains.  I have truly enjoyed the past fifteen years doing what I love.

This native  moss was moved this past year from our woods to our developing shade garden.  Only recently have we discovered the magic of mosses.  So far winter seems to have had no effect on these plants or the moss covering the rocks that define the walking path.

The day before the moving van was scheduled to snatch Steve and Elaine away, I was given one last chance to make some of their plants mine.  There is nothing appealing about the name slime mold but that day was a now or never situation.  Once home some quick reading resulted in placing well rotted wood in the acid soil previously lifted from our woods.  It may be that the pink spheres are reproductive organs.  They swell in response to moisture and nearly disappear when dry.  The grayish green blobs are the body of the mold.  Sumac berries are the deep red balls.  It appears that this slime mold intends to survive in its new location and we will carefully weed out any tiny trees that grow from the red berries.

This photo contains two recent transplants, wintergreen and arbutus, as well as a jumble of fallen plant parts.  The maroon colored leaves belong to wintergreen as do two red berries located at the junction of its top two leaves.  All of the other red berries are sumac.  Green leaves mark the location of arbutus.  These plants were hastily placed here on moving day.  Fortunately acid woodland soil was already in place.  Just what to do with these treasures is presently under consideration.  Our usual habit is to segregate our transplants but this looks like a more natural placement. An unseen wire cage keeps the wildlife from eating these still growing plants.  These native plants will serve as a reminder of the debt owed these two people for all that they have done for us.  Extra care will be given to keep these plants alive.

This does not look like much but it may hold great promise.  Disregard the sumac berries and find the reddish stem that still holds a leaf.  Fringed polygala has a history here.  Invasive native plants ended what had been a highly successful transplant.  Last spring we tried again.  This plant is still alive under its protective wire cage.  Just at the soil surface is the cleistogamous  flower that produces only seed.  Here we have two chances for a surviving plant.  Most people would never see the promise of a possible native plant returning here.  Check back around Mother's Day to see if the paired purple flower petals are on display here.

Certainty

During the snowstorm yesterday, Amy and Ed saw a large group of robins at the bottom of the driveway near the sumac trees.  Today Amy and I went for a walk to try to locate some feathers that I saw down at the gravel bank. On the way, there were lots of tracks in the snow.  When I declared the above tracks in the snow robin tracks, it was easy for Amy to believe.  The sumac berries depicted are a favored food before the ground thaws.

I thought these tracks were made by a fox due to the double register.  Amy was not certain so Tracking and the art of seeing was consulted.  She still had some doubts.

Outside the living room window later in the morning, I actually spotted a fox.  We all watched as it walked, trotted, sat, scratched, licked and then got up and walked down into the notch and out of sight.  We caught a quick glimpse of her/him heading up the hill in the woods, but then s/he was gone.

Certainty is a wonderful thing so Amy and I headed back out in the cold to look at fresh tracks that were made by a red fox.  We saw it, so we were absolutely sure that the tracks were made by a fox. These were the only tracks in the fresh snow when we visited the location of the sighting.  They do resemble the older tracks spotted earlier.

This is definitely known to be a place where s/he sat.  This isn't the first time we've seen fox taking a moment to create comfort before going on its way.

Something To Eat

We are accustomed to seeing bird tracks on the snow under sumac trees.  The red berry clusters are a generous cache of winter food.  Both the footprint and the dig in the snow point to a deer also feeding here.  The path that this deer took went directly in front of an arbutus patch.  We have never seen indications of deer feeding on  our arbutus.  Others have written that deer do feed on this plant.

Our treasured four transplants are under a wire cage designed to keep out both rabbits and woodchucks.  Both of those animals have in the past eaten arbutus here.  Today it looks like this cage may have prevented a hungry deer from feeding here.

These more recent transplants also grow under wire.  Their location behind the arbutus wall places them in afternoon winter sunshine despite being under a white pine tree.  Remaining snow is in the shadow of the wall.

This was a glorious day to be outside.  Clear skies and ever strengthening sunshine combined to provide our first January thaw.  If the forecast for the rest of the week holds, we will see a daytime temperature in the 40s.

August Beauty, Photos By Amy

When Amy walks through the garden with the camera you can always count on having many fantastic pictures to choose from. It is not easy.  The Mammoth Pink chrysanthemums are beginning their stunning display.

I could not decide if I prefer the bold close-up, or this picture where the beauty of the mums is demurely concealed  by neighboring plants.  Of course we are always pleased to have one of Ed's walls in the background.  The remaining lily stalks, fine perennial flax foliage and speckled Gloriosa Daisies add a lot of interest to this picture.

There are few bee balm flowers left.  The hummingbird, butterflies and hummingbird moths usually seen on these flowers seem to have been replaced with ants.

The brilliant red of this cardinal flower would capture any photographer.  I can tell right away where this flower is growing.  It stands in front of the only wall I ever built here.  It lacks the perfect horizontal lines of Ed's work and has diagonal lines that make it mine. Just the same, it still stands together with his  in the garden square after all these years.

The red color and fuzzy texture of these sumac berries make me want to reach out and touch them.  This winter they will get the bird's attention.

Summer Sweet, Clethra, is a favorite plant of Amy and Ed.  It's sweet aroma is a reminder of hiking trips taken together.  We have both white and pink growing here.  The flowers open from the bottom to the top and all of the stages are here to see.  I have to wonder what is eating the leaves.

I love sunflowers.  They are so cheery near or far.  I do believe that is a real honey bee working the spiral of tiny flowers.  This sunflower has just begun to bloom. Its flowers will spiral in  until the last ones open in the center.  We get to enjoy its sunny face  all that time.

I saved my favorite for last.  A beautiful purple, prickly thistle and the garden wearing an asparagus fern veil is a study in texture and color.  It takes an artist's eye to turn my unweeded asparagus bed into such beauty.  Thanks Amy, I'm so glad to be able to see it that way!