Spring Star

The back yard is bursting with new life and activity: birds are building nests, spring ephemerals are reaching their peak bloom, and lilacs and red buckeyes are flowering before their time. All wonderful, yet nothing says “look at me, please” like this giant swath of pinkish-lavender azaleas. The grouping is about eight-feet tall, sixteen-feet wide, and completely covered with flowers that bloom before leaves appear.

I’m not certain of the plant’s name or origin (maybe a Korean azalea), or even the number of individual plants that make up the whole. The grouping was here when we moved and there are no distinctly separate plants. I am certain of how much the birds love to fly in and out of the dense branches and how much I look forward to the wonderfully fragrant flowers, so plentiful and reliable each spring.

I really do like to know the names of plants in my garden. Sometimes, though, it just doesn’t seem that important.

Magnolia Blooms in Flight

It doesn’t take much to distract me from my weeding chores. Last week, just before dusk, I looked up at the sky and saw…… pink butterflies!  Or was it a flight of exotic pink birds? No, it was the soft, fragrant blooms of Magnolia x ‘Jane’ that appeared to be fluttering everywhere …so much more entertaining than pulling out vinca.

‘Jane’ is part of a group of hybrids developed by the U.S. Arboretum in the mid-1950s. They bloom a little later than most magnolias. They only get about ten feet tall so they work well in small gardens. My Jane is planted a little too close to the woods, so it doesn’t get quite as full as it might in full sun. But I like the wispiness of it where it is and the way the slender, silvery branches contrast with the flowers.

Jane fits in well with trilliums and other spring bloomers. The fragrance is exceptional–similar to a gardenia, but more subtle.

Here, on one side of a path in the backyard, is evidence of my inability to make a decision or turn down an alluring botanical specimen. (And, no, that is not an illegal plant in the middle of the photo). I have a similar-size grouping on the other side of the path, just out of camera-range.

In my weak defense, there was a good chance last winter that the plants would be headed to a new home. We didn’t want to plant everything and then dig them up. Also, the deer have been so destructive I didn’t want to just give them my treasures for lunch. So, last fall, I surrounded the pots with a thick mulch of leaves for protection from the winter cold. Some plants have gotten this treatment for more than one winter, I must admit.

My son was over today and pointed out — as diplomatically as possible — that the dozens of black pots were “a little tacky” and detracted from the vision I often articulated for my garden. He is right, and I took no offense. Maybe I have a latent desire to have a nursery, so this is my cobbled-up version of it.

Of course, my dream is to someday have a garden with everything in its place, with no deer or voles lurking in the background to savage my efforts. But, then, that would not be a real-life garden and I would have to find something else to do with my time.

Winter casualties: mostly cinnamon fern.