pameladean (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pameladean) wrote2011-07-29 02:48 pm
pameladean) wrote2011-07-29 02:48 pm
Paint the meadows with delight
I think Shakespeare was talking about spring, but hereabouts, you get the mass of prairie flowers right about now. Most of Minnesota's state parks now show green on the DNR's Reopening page, and Raphael and I hope to get to one of them next week.
In very local phenology, mulberry season is almost over. There are still a few unripe berries, mostly being gobbled in their red phase by juvenile squirrels and house sparrows. But the time when you could stand outside and hear the patter of ripe berries dropping, and when the sidewalk on the south side of the house was a morass of pulped purple, so that Ari had purple paw pads and I had to clean my shoes carefully before I came inside, is past. The lilies are finished, except for a small volunteer near the giant hosta in the front yard. The rudbeckia is going strong, along with the twenty-one mulleins. I think it's twenty-one. Eric and I counted nineteen a few weeks ago, but since then several more have put up their flower stalks. I couldn't mow too close to them without destroying the lower leaves, so they stand in a cloud of common yarrow, daisy fleabane, and volunteer chives. The Shasta daisies got flattened by torrential rain and are blooming sideways. They are almost done too, and I may mow them if I ever mow the lawn again. I have no patience with mowing if the heat index is above 85. Lawns are overrated. Mine is far, far prettier run amok. But if I don't want the city to come in and hack up my mulleins and charge me outrageous amounts of money for not even taking the evidence of the carnage away, I have to mow bits of the yard to show I that I care.
It doesn't help that last year Eric showed me a book that said the first plants to take hold after the glaciers retreated were ragweed and plaintain. Who wants to mow down plants like that?
The daylilies, which are in flower beds instead of the lawn, are going very strongly. The phlox is very late. Starfire, in front, is putting out a single blossom at a time. The two types of David (how could I resist a plant named that?), white and pink, have buds, but haven't flowered yet. Moving to the animal kingdom, the cedar waxwings did not come to eat our mulberries. We have a lot of young rabbits. I've seen red and white admiral butterflies, and a monarch. There was also a green darner clinging to the blooming bee balm in the front yard. Oh, yes, that's blooming like mad, and so is the little hydrangea. I should get it some pine needles from the neighbors' yard so it will bloom blue.
Leaving the land of accident and moving to intentional cultivation: my tomatoes are making new greenery, but not blooming. The basil and the mint are doing pretty well. I think I put the thyme in too shaded a spot, but we'll see.
I must try to actually get something done today. As I run off, I'd like to thank LiveJournal Support for working on my posting problems in the midst of a DDoS attack. Now let's see if this will actually post.
Nope. It wouldn't. I had to use Firefox.
Pamela
In very local phenology, mulberry season is almost over. There are still a few unripe berries, mostly being gobbled in their red phase by juvenile squirrels and house sparrows. But the time when you could stand outside and hear the patter of ripe berries dropping, and when the sidewalk on the south side of the house was a morass of pulped purple, so that Ari had purple paw pads and I had to clean my shoes carefully before I came inside, is past. The lilies are finished, except for a small volunteer near the giant hosta in the front yard. The rudbeckia is going strong, along with the twenty-one mulleins. I think it's twenty-one. Eric and I counted nineteen a few weeks ago, but since then several more have put up their flower stalks. I couldn't mow too close to them without destroying the lower leaves, so they stand in a cloud of common yarrow, daisy fleabane, and volunteer chives. The Shasta daisies got flattened by torrential rain and are blooming sideways. They are almost done too, and I may mow them if I ever mow the lawn again. I have no patience with mowing if the heat index is above 85. Lawns are overrated. Mine is far, far prettier run amok. But if I don't want the city to come in and hack up my mulleins and charge me outrageous amounts of money for not even taking the evidence of the carnage away, I have to mow bits of the yard to show I that I care.
It doesn't help that last year Eric showed me a book that said the first plants to take hold after the glaciers retreated were ragweed and plaintain. Who wants to mow down plants like that?
The daylilies, which are in flower beds instead of the lawn, are going very strongly. The phlox is very late. Starfire, in front, is putting out a single blossom at a time. The two types of David (how could I resist a plant named that?), white and pink, have buds, but haven't flowered yet. Moving to the animal kingdom, the cedar waxwings did not come to eat our mulberries. We have a lot of young rabbits. I've seen red and white admiral butterflies, and a monarch. There was also a green darner clinging to the blooming bee balm in the front yard. Oh, yes, that's blooming like mad, and so is the little hydrangea. I should get it some pine needles from the neighbors' yard so it will bloom blue.
Leaving the land of accident and moving to intentional cultivation: my tomatoes are making new greenery, but not blooming. The basil and the mint are doing pretty well. I think I put the thyme in too shaded a spot, but we'll see.
I must try to actually get something done today. As I run off, I'd like to thank LiveJournal Support for working on my posting problems in the midst of a DDoS attack. Now let's see if this will actually post.
Nope. It wouldn't. I had to use Firefox.
Pamela
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject