Stopping With Bees
As summer is slipping into clouds of yellow flowers heralding shorter days and whispers of autumn, the bees continue their work. It’s been a harrowing month as I deal with sciatic nerve issues and I develop new and higher pain thresholds. So I am spending time with bees.
Firefly Magic
Hello cuties! These are two male Photinus pyralis having a photo shoot before being released. Good luck with the ladies, lads!
Empathetic Gardening: Feeding Everyone Including You
As my garden aesthetic has evolved, it has become more empathetic. By this, I mean I have refocused my plant choices to those that feed me and my soul, but also as many species of wildlife as possible.
Katsura, Oh, Katsura
This katsura (Cercidiphyllum japonicum) is planted for remembrance. I chose it for its fall fragrance of burnt caramel with notes of apricot. In spring, the new baby leaves are maroon. Its naturally layered delicate habit offers a tall wispy cloud of bronze, backlit by the early morning sun.
Seeking the Ephemeral Beauty of Native Plants
There’s a low hum to the earth. It’s not just the boxwood buzzing with flies, wasps, and other tiny pollinators or the first bumblebee stumbling through the daffodils. Spring has arrived.
Heavenly Hellebores
As we knock on the door of April and true spring, the hellebores have arrived! Are they native? Nope. But anything that blooms cheerfully under snow, tolerates dry shade, and isn’t consumed by rabbits, is a winner in my garden.
Seeking Solace This Spring
In our house we’re attempting to adapt to our new reality of a pandemic. I’m filling my Instagram feed with flowers as a balm for the stress and anxiety of the huge uncertainties we’re facing.
Chives: First Taste of Spring
For me, one of the first signs of spring is the new shoots of chives spearing up out of last year’s leafy detritus. And my favorite way to use them is with a bright batch of scrambled eggs.
Coming Up Crocus
Spring is coming to call early this year. I’m not ruling out snow in April, though. As trees begin to slowly hum in the bright March sunshine, small bulbs are waking up and stretching.