• Img_1865

    This winter,
    our five pond fish were much entertained by the antics of the newly-arrived Little Fishy (pictured above). Little Fishy
    would have us believe that she swam across the Atlantic Ocean from her home in England. We humour her because she is a much-loved member of our family. Fishy can weave tales to rival those of any plant that grows in my garden.

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    Last week, when the day finally arrived for the five fish to return to the pond, Fishy insisted that she watch the proceedings from an adjacent Dogwood. The large Elm tree, she decided, simply did not show her colouring off to advantage. Who were we to argue?  The Dogwood turned out to be a perfect place for Fishy since she hung by a lovely brass ring overlooking the  pond.   There was much excitement as my son and I put the fish back in the pond. I was only able to photograph four of the five fish together in the photograph here.

    Little Fishy is the creation of the talented and lovely Gretel.  When Fishy made her appearance in Gretel’s blog, Middle of Nowhere, I knew that her home was with us. If you have not visited Gretel’s blog or her Etsy shop, Red Flannel Elephant, then you have a treat in store for you. How Gretel can needlefelt such lovely creatures is magical and mysterious to me. Fishy arrived in a beautiful package along with a beautiful set of cards featuring Gretel’s toy illustrations.   

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    Now that the fish have been restored to the pond, it feels as if summer has arrived. Weather-wise it certainly has as the temperatures zoomed up to 27c late last week and have been hovering in the low 20s for the weekend.

    Fishy spends part of each day outdoors and accompanies us inside at night. Her days are filled with much excitement as Lytton, the dog, keeps neighbourhood cats and pesky pigeons away from the pond.  Every morning we have been relieved to discover that none of the fish have disappeared.

  • Img_1602_2 This year, we’ve had the time of our lives,  happily surviving several
    frost-filled nights and putting forth more blooms than ever before. As the days grow warmer, the time will soon come when we must say goodbye.

    We
    aren’t ready to take our leave just yet. If by chance you were to  happen upon us, you would almost certainly be charmed by our cheerful beauty, especially on a sunny and warm spring day.Liverlily_2

    When our blooms are gone, what will be left are quiet remembrances of our beauty. Our odd-shaped seedheads will linger for a time before disappearing, while our reddish-tinged, liver-shaped leaves will  remain healthy all summer long. That’s because we are partially shaded by trees and plants.Img_1607

    We like to think that we are still noticed in the garden all summer long though, even if our sunny buttercup-like blooms have become distant memories. Sometimes we fancy that the gardener is smiling fondly upon us. We watch and we listen to the world unfolding around us.

    There are now five clumps of us (Liverlilies – Hepatica nobilis)
    in two different places in the garden. Each spring we race to see who
    will be the first to toss up blooms. Every year, the eldest of us wins, but that doesn’t stop us from trying. We are ever hopeful.Llily03

    A long time ago, it was thought that we played a role in curing liver ailments.  Just because  our three-lobed leaves were thought to resemble human livers does not mean that we had any special healing powers.  Now we are mostly left in peace in gardens and also in the wild places we still inhabit. 

    The thing about gardens is that everyone thinks they go on growing, that in winter they sleep and in spring they rise. But it’s more that they die and return, die and return. They lose themselves. They haunt themselves.

    Every story is a story about death. But perhaps, if we are lucky, our story about death is also a story about love.

    And this is what I have remembered of love. (Helen Humphreys, The Lost Garden)

    (more…)

  • It isn’t every spring we deign to make an appearance. Some years, our gruelling schedule takes its toll and we break from our usual, annual touring schedule. Last spring, was one such time.Img_1720_2 None of us can recall the source of our fatigue, but no matter. This year, we decided to appear with our full touring entourage. 

    Usually we like to perform solo from every corner of the garden. This year, however, we’ve decided to do things a bit differently.

    We formed several quartets that live up to the name most people know us by – Northern Fairy Candelabra (Androsace septentrionalis). There are also the usual solo performers who provide us with backup. ‘Most years, we limit our touring to western parts of Canada and the United States. Some people call us Pygmyflowers too. We prefer to be thought of as Candelabra though. Img_1721

    While we are sometimes viewed as weeds in farmers’ fields, we are mostly beloved as native wildflowers. What isn’t there to love about us? Our white flowers appear high above our slender, toothed leaves and remind people of flickering candlelight. Each of our performances make every garden and field a much lovelier place.

    When we have completed our final performances, we "do not go gentle into that good night." Rather, we  finish out the summer setting seeds for next year’s possible return. As our leaves turn a beautiful reddish colour, we "rage, rage against the dying light."

    Whenever we start blooming, one gardener is reminded of the song, Wildflowers, by The Trio  – Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris and Dolly Parton (1987).

    I hitched a ride with the wind
    and since he was my friend 
    I just let him decide where we’d go 
    When a flower grows wild
    It
    can always survive
    Wildflowers don’t care where they grow.

    Stay tuned for our much-anticipated performances. We prefer to wait until the Liverlilies are finished before taking front and centre stage.

  • It was a cool and sunny morning, with the robins making it known they had returned from their winter vacation spots.

    "Maybe we should have delayed our spring trip Robinpondfor a few more weeks," the robin observed to no one in particular, "since I am rather parched this morning and our gardener’s pond is frozen yet again."

    "Well, the sunshine feels quite divine and so I shall rest for a brief spell. Hmmm… it looks as if I am being observed. I can’t recall from last year’s photographs,  if my profile looked better from the left or from the right. No matter, I will simply turn slowly so that the gardener, at least I think that is she in the window, will see me at my best."

    Such simple delights in spring … a glimpse of a robin,  slowly-emerging Scilla  and quiet moments in the warmth of the sun.

  • If I lived in the front of the garden, then I’d have had a haircut by now," mumbled the Sedum.
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    "Because I’m large and  exuberant, I seem to be neglected unless I shout.  This morning, I almost caught the gardener’s attention, but then she began looking for the Shooting Star (Dodecatheon pauciflorum) and forgot all about me.

    I could have told her that the Shooting Star was not yet ready to make an appearance. Some plants spend far too much trying to make themselves beautiful before appearing at the spring fête.

    I am in desperate need of a haircut. If only I could find the garden shears, I’d trim off my old hair and look just as dapper as those little Liverlilies. Truly I would.
    "

  • Spring2_003_2

    "My how lovely the sun feels on my back. I think I shall rest for a spell on this soft, comfortable bed."

    "Oh, please do," murmured the woolly thyme. "The world’s coming alive again. It’s always good to make the acquaintance of one’s neighbours."

  •  Can you make out the three buds in this photograph?   They certainly weren’t in evidence this morning when I brushed leaf debris
    from the Liverlilies (Hepatica nobilis). 
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    But by mid-afternoon, with warmer
    temperatures and much sunshine, they made their
    appearance. I was excited, to put it mildly. This was an entirely unexpected treat.

    For those who read my blog
    last spring, you might be thinking – oh no, not the Liverlilies again. I am falling even more in love
    them because they seem to do so well here.  Their foliage also looks great throughout the summer. Their beautiful sky-blue flowers are simple, but elegant. Two neighbouring
    Liverlily plants will soon be in bud, while two others are still
    under snow on the shadier and cooler side of the garden.

     
    This past winter, I entertained myself by imagining my
    plants with their own personalities and inhabiting a world constructed
    entirely in my mind. In this world, plants slowly wake in the spring and
    carefully fold their leaves to sleep in autumn.  During their waking hours, the world
    is brimmi
    ng with activity – there’s drama, comedy, music, mystery, the odd chase
    scene and so much more.
     
    Here is a short tale of the first day of the three
    liverlily blooms
    :

    "What is that rustling noise I hear overhead?," I
    murmured. Ah finally … some light and warmth on my back. Maybe if I
    poke my head up, I’ll know if it’s time to emerge from m
    y cosy world. One tiny
    push and here I am, braving the world for the first time.

    "Come on, hurry, it’s warm up here," I whisper to my
    friends as I nudge them awake. "Wake up, wake up. We’ve slept long enough and
    there’s nothing quite like the feeling of warm sunshine."
     
    "Not so quickly," cautioned the tattered, elderly
    brown-leaf  high above us. "Take your time – there’s no rush. The
    sun isn’t going anywhere, at least not for a few hours."
     
    "I hope that big brown dog won’t step on us like he did
    last year," grumbled a neighbouring bud, slowly stretching and yawning.
     
    "It wasn’t his fault," said another elderly brown leaf.
    "Don’t you remember that bothersome squirrel? I don’t mean the nice one he
    liked, but the other one – the one with the fluffy tail?"
     
    This brought talk of our memories of last summer when we were
    still under the earth, but listening to the world above. "That’s the squirrel who
    ate our tulip neighbours just before we went on our long sleep," 
    said our brown-leaved friend as she prodded another bud
    above earth.
     
    Now that we buds were happily sunning ourselves, the
    brown leaves swayed gently above us and talked among themselves of their happiness in seeing the blue sky. We listened intently and looked everywhere,
    thankful that our world was bright with light again.
  • This
    seems to be my year for reading books by Michael Pollan. I had just finished
    reading his latest book,

     In Defense of Food, when I delved back into Second Nature, published in 1991.Secondnature2_2 This was the  selection for the February/March edition of the Garden Bloggers’ Book Club, a bimonthly reading
    group hosted by Carol at May Dreams Gardens.

     

    In
    Second Nature, Michael Pollan chronicles his experiences from
    a newly-minted and idealistic gardener to a battle-seasoned one. This book does not tell us how to garden specifically, but rather is a series of essays on
    subjects that most gardeners think about inevitably at some point in their
    gardening lives.


    Through topics as diverse as compost, rose growing, tree
    planting, seed catalogues and weeds, I felt as if I had embarked on an eye-opening journey of discovery with Mr. Pollan.  There’s drama in this book
    too, just as there is in our gardens. From his first mention of woodchucks,
    I wanted to read on and discover how ultimately Pollan makes peace with them. Or
    does he? Who among us hasn’t planted a garden only to discover some critters
    or night-time insects happily feasting on our gardens?

     

    In
    several essays, Pollan challenges the romantic ideals and assumptions that held
    sway in his mind before he began gardening in earnest. As he discovered, 

    I
    assumed that I could make a garden and at the same time remain on warm terms
    with the local flora and fauna. The process of overcoming my failures taught me
    how much harder it is to get along with nature as an active participant than as
    a distant admirer. (123)
     

    Pollan talks at length about what he sees as the competing and conflicting forces between nature and culture that have long been part of our North American heritage. It makes me want to delve further into the perennial discussion over how much human intervention is acceptable in our role as stewards of this planet. Pollan’s take on this issue makes for interesting, although outdated, reading. In 1991, when this book was published, environmental issues hadn’t quite reached the general public’s consciousness to the same degree as they have now.


    There
    are many interesting insights into the history of gardening as well. One of my favourite parts was reading Pollan description of how
    Americans (and Canadians too, for that matter) came to plant lawns across the US, no matter
    the climatic conditions.

     

    He writes with such wit and candour
    that I suspect most every reader will be chuckling or nodding in sympathy or understanding. A
    discussion of seed catalogues has become a classic in garden reading and, if you don’t read any other section of Second Nature, this is one that shouldn’t be missed.

    If you haven’t already done so, I encourage you to read Second Nature. At the same time, you might enjoy reading Michael Pollan’s guest blogging posts on his book at Amazon.com.


  • Bengal20clock20vine20021
    When I moved my blog to this new location, I began to wonder if I wasn’t perhaps unconsciously looking for a fresh start. I think it’s too early to tell if that’s the case, but I do know that I’ve spent some time lately soul-searching about what blogging means to me.

    In my early blogging days, I didn’t think much beyond writing on subjects of interest to me. Much of my attention was taken up with trying to make sense of Blogger templates and learning several new acronyms, like ‘html’.  Oh the struggle! Then I began reading other blogs, something I really hadn’t done before starting my own blog.

    This new and fascinating world of blogging was a revelation to me. It seemed as if I was making new blog discoveries every day. My view of the world underwent a  subtle change as I found myself no longer thinking in terms of foreign countries, but rather in climatic and garden zones.  Even if I was unable to understand the language a blog was written in, I could always look at the photographs. They had a way of telling me the story. 

    One of the most refreshing things about the blogs I read is that people were doing their own thing with their blogs. With the world of blogging being relatively new and uncharted, there is a sense of freedom in experimenting with it. Many of us seem to have started in much the same way, and as we have gained more experience with the technical side of blogging, have begun to try different things, like adding video or sound clips.  Most of us are not professional writers – we just have something to say about things that matter to us.

    Some of us keep our blogs focussed on one subject area, like gardening, while others, like me, talk about a  range of subjects. No one has seemed to mind overly that my blog goes from discussing flowers to knitting and then saunters off to painting, dogs and fiddling.

    It wasn’t until several months ago that I read an article stating that blogs should be kept to one subject area.  I began an email discussion with a blogging friend who encouraged me to keep on doing what I was doing, so long as I was happy. At that point, I decided that I would adopt the same philosophy with blogging as I did with other creative pursuits, namely that it was something I never wanted to feel obligated to do or, more importantly, to do in a certain way. If I feel as if I must be out gardening, fiddling or now blogging, I stop myself. These areas of life are too important for keeping my soul nourished. From experience, I know I begin to lose my interest if I feel something is becoming a chore or a duty. I know the importance for me too, of staying true to myself.

    This isn’t always an easy or straightforward thing to do. Recently, I signed off a garden blog directory site because I found my view of the blogging world differed too much from that promoted on this site. While I may not have as many readers to my blog now, that’s fine. I wasn’t comfortable trying to fit into a competitive environment. It felt a bit too much like trying to conform in high school and I wasn’t about to continue doing something which wasn’t good for me. Since this experience, I’ve realised how I cherish the sense of community I experience in my blogging world, especially the gardening one. I’m now back to using my Google Reader to keep up with the blogs I love reading.

    What’s important to me is knowing that  I’m doing what’s right for me. This is who I am. Having people read what I write is an added bonus – I love when people stop in and comment. I’ve made many good blogging  friends in this way.  I was drawn to their blogs, too, because I connect with them on various levels.

    And what I truly love is the variety of blogs in existence. When other bloggers come along and suggest what it is that we ‘should’ be doing with our blogs, might I make ‘a gentle plea for chaos’, along the same lines as Mirabel Osler did in her book by this name?  Although Mirabel Osler was writing about gardening, I think the same can be applied to blogging.

    I hope that our blogs grow along with us and that our individuality will continue to shine forth. As with everything else in life, people bring different life experiences and interests to blogging. It is this diversity that makes the blogging world such a dynamic and interesting one. No doubt there will continue to be ‘experts’ exhorting us or merely suggesting how we should be blogging.

    I hope we all continue to d0 our own thing and keep blogging from becoming bogged down in rules.

  • Last week, I was tagged by for this meme by Cake, at Whistling Leaf Blower. Violin_2

    The six word memoir rules are:

    – write your own six word memoir.
    – post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
    – link to the person that tagged you in your post.
    – tag five more blogs with links.

    This has been a challenging meme for me. Several six-word memoirs have come to mind . How could there not be, when I’ve lived for fifty years?

    Colour and music brought me joy.

    I will not tag anyone else to play along with this meme . If you would like to participate, please do so! It isn’t easy to condense one’s life into six words. As soon as I publish this, I’m sure I will want to change it.