Enjoy Them While You Can

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."

When the poet John Keats wrote this line, I'm pretty sure he was thinking of art.  I do know he wasn't talking about spring flowers, because the beauty of spring flowers certainly doesn't last forever.  We admire and write about spring ephemerals, those short-lived woodland beauties, but really, everything about spring seems ephemeral.  Spring brings me so much joy, but if I have one complaint, it's that it simply doesn't last long enough.

For example, this was the view from my front porch just two weeks ago--the scene in my header gives an even longer view of the flowering crabapples lining my driveway.

I look forward to this sight every year and enjoy every moment of it I can.  We were lucky to have a few nice days of sunshine to enjoy them, but the rain and strong winds can make short work of all these beautiful blossoms.

The redbuds, too, show off their glowing pink blooms for only a short time before they begin to leaf out and turn a pleasant, but ordinary green.

The tulips have also been short-lived this spring.  A week or more of unusually warm weather in April--in the 70's and even reaching 80 F some days--put the tulips into overdrive with all of them blooming about the same time and fading quickly in the heat.

In my last post I lamented that all I seemed to have were yellow tulips, but I needn't have worried.  After the early yellow blooms, other tulips opened up revealing that I had indeed planted a multitude of colors.  There was the delicate pink of 'Angelique,' one of the latest to bloom.

Shades of peachy-pink in the new 'Marit.'

Darker shades of pink in the new 'Mata Hari.'  This is an interesting tulip--

the petals get darker as they age.

There were orange tulips, too, including the 'Princess Irene' which bloomed just in time for my mother's birthday.

There were even pink tulips that opened to a near white bloom--'Lady Jane,' a species tulip.  And, of course, what would spring be, without a few dandelions--one bloom that sticks around for a long, long time.

Deep dark purple 'Queen of the Night' and the white of 'Marguerite' added even more colors.

And to add even more, there were several bi-colored tulips as well.

No, my garden wasn't just a monotone of yellow this spring after all.

There are still a few tulips blooming this first week in May, but most have disappeared, and the few remaining are fading fast.  This is the first year that I can remember when the tulip display didn't last until at least mid-May.

There were other fleeting blooms as well.  The Pulmonaria bloomed before I even had a chance to get a decent photo of it, but I did manage to capture the tiny blooms of the Epimedeum above before they, too, faded.

While I am sad to see some of my favorite blossoms leave so soon, there is an upside to spring, of course.  Later blooms appear to take the place of that early show of color.  Camassia is the perfect late spring bloom, tall enough to command attention amongst all the green foliage.

And then there are bluebells.  I was so excited to see these this week, nearly hidden among the Solomon's Seal and emerging hostas.  The reason I was so happy about these bluebells is that I've planted them before, and they've always been a no-show.  I'm pretty sure these were some I planted two or three years ago, and I'd forgotten their name.  These are Spanish bluebells, Hyacinthoides hispanica, not the native Virginia bluebells.

Spring is such a busy season in the garden, but its blooms remind us to slow down every now and then and just enjoy the moment.  A "thing of beauty" may not last forever, but we can delight in it for as long as it is here.  We can also take joy in knowing that there is more--much more--yet to come!

The Colors of Autumn

The "S" word is in the forecast for this week.  It's far too early for wintry landscapes, in my opinion; I want to enjoy the remaining colors of autumn for as long as possible.  Predictions of snow and temperatures in the teens always remind me of Frost's poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay."  We've had a beautiful fall, and although the colors have not been as dramatic as some years, there has been no shortage of golden hues.

The locust tree in the front yard is nothing spectacular during the summer, but in the fall it glows.

Is there anything better than gold sparking against a blue, blue sky?

Amsonia Hubrichtii proves why it's more than just a pretty spring face.  We have a very large specimen of this in the section of the Idea Garden where I volunteer, and I noticed this year how many visitors were drawn to this plant and asked about it.  In the late fall everything in the garden is cut down for the winter, even the amsonia.  I understand those in charge want a public garden to look tidy over the winter, but it makes me sad that they are missing out on a beautiful late-season show of color.  I'm almost glad I didn't have time to help on "Putting the Garden to Bed" day--I wouldn't have had the heart to take the pruners to this lovely.

For the last month, I've enjoyed the spectacle of autumn at its finest around town and while driving to meetings and appointments or running countless errands, but never the time to stop and capture the scenes, even if I had a camera handy, which I didn't. But it doesn't matter--I'm not a great landscape photographer, anyway, and there are small scenes of beauty to be found even in my own back yard, like the foliage and fluffy seedheads of the asters.

Or the glowing foliage of the spirea.

Even the hostas go out in a blaze of gold.

Gold is definitely the predominant color of fall in my area, surrounded as we are by fields of ripe corn. For a time, spots of green (or red, depending on the farmers' preferred brand of machinery) were also seen throughout the fields.

 

The harvest was completed a few weeks ago, but not before a little boy had the ride of his life.  I posted this photo on my Facebook page, but thought it was worth posting here, too.  My youngest grandson, now 2, is obsessed with combines, and so Grandpa made arrangements for him to get a ride on a real combine and see the harvest up close as they made two rounds through the fields.  It is all Grandson has talked about ever since--his favorite fall color is definitely green!

Gold is not the only color of autumn, of course.  This time of year I wish I had a red maple, but the burning bushes at the end of our drive provide a dramatic dose of red.

The white crabapple changes its hue, too. 

Unlike last year, when fruit was sparse due to the drought, the tree is loaded with tiny red crabapples this year.

The birds are happy about this, too, and have made this their favorite tree of the season.

The old apple tree was also covered in apples this fall, and I spent a good deal of time preparing sliced apples and making applesauce for the freezer.  There were so many that I didn't get them all picked, though, before Husband gave the lawn a last mowing before winter. I guess this is applesauce for the birds:)

There are some non-traditional fall colors in the garden, too, if you look closely enough.  The purple berries on the beautyberry bush are another winter treat for the birds, but I hope they let me enjoy them first for awhile.

More purplish-pink in the late blooms of a potted mum.

Less dramatic, but pleasing all the same--the muted pink undertones of the fading 'Limelight' hydrangea.

The fall color show begins in my front yard each year with the ash tree and its purple and copper-colored leaves.

And it climaxes with the turning of the large maple which shines even on a cloudy day.

Autumn's winds are stripping it a little more each day, leaving only remnants of the colorful show--and one more fall project to do before winter sets in.

"Then leaf subsides to leaf 

 . . . Nothing gold can stay."

I hope you are enjoying the colors of Autumn wherever you are!

Garden Muse Day: September Apples

The Apple Orchard

Come let us watch the sun go down
and walk in twilight through the orchard's green.
Does it not seem as if we had for long
collected, saved and harbored within us

old memories? To find releases and seek

new hopes, remembering half-forgotten joys,

mingled with darkness coming from within,

as we randomly voice our thoughts aloud

wandering beneath these harvest-laden trees

reminiscent of Durer woodcuts, branches

which, bent under the fully ripened fruit,

wait patiently, trying to outlast, to

serve another season's hundred days of toil,

straining, uncomplaining, by not breaking

but succeeding, even though the burden

should at times seem almost past endurance.

Not to falter! Not to be found wanting!

Thus must it be, when willingly you strive

throughout a long and uncomplaining life,

committed to one goal: to give yourself!

And silently to grow and to bear fruit.

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Garden Muse Day is brought to you on the first of each month by Carolyn Gail at Sweet Home and Garden Chicago. (I'm a little early, but I wanted to post this before Labor Day.)

I had an entirely different poem planned for today, but when I searched for it on a poem site, I found this one instead. Not as full of the images of ripened apples and the coming fall, this poem instead has a wonderful message, I think.

I have two apple trees--not an orchard--which seem to produce an abundance of apples every other year. This year conditions must have been just right, because the branches seem to groan under the weight of all the fruit. I have been waiting to make sure they were completely ripe, but quite a few have already fallen from the tree and have been mashed into unwilling compost by the lawn mower. This week I will pick some, and if they are indeed ripe enough, I'll try to make use of them all. I'm not sure what variety they are--a Jonathan or something akin to it, I think, because they are better cooking apples than "eating" apples. I plan to make a lot of applesauce, but there will be enough for apple cake, apple bread, and my children's favorite--old-fashioned apple crisp. Ymmmm....the smell of cinnamon is already in the air!

More apples . . . but of course these won't be made into applesauce! The flowering crabapple trees have been full of fruit for several weeks. Years ago, my mother used to pick crabapples from a relative's trees and make crabapple jelly. Those crabapples were much bigger than these, but I still can't help but think how much work was put into each jar of that jelly. These fruits instead will provide a banquet for the birds who have already been enjoying the feast.


"A mind always employed is always happy. This is the true secret, the grand recipe, for felicity."
---Thomas Jefferson

"The strongest bond of human sympathy outside the family relation should be one uniting working people of all nations and tongues and kindreds."

--Abraham Lincoln

Have a happy and safe Labor Day!