SoS- 15/8/20
Gosh, snow last week, and flooding rains this week. It makes gardening difficult to say the least as spring begins to burst around us. I have plans and it seems as they’ll have to be put on hold for a while. At least the ground of the orchard will be wet enough to plant a couple more trees. We planted a 6 foot high flowering gum before the rain yesterday, and a slightly smaller bay tree. But knowing SoS was almost upon us, I dashed out before the resumption of rain today and snapped a few plants:
The bulbs are all beginning to jump. Jeanne d’Arc crocus are flowering, along with a very close to a bursting tulip (could be white, orange or black but looks white-ish, doesn’t it?). I just wish my garden would bloom these tubbed things all at once. I want a foaming effect, not this drip feeding process.
It’s the same with the auriculas which I am developing a ‘thing’ for. I want to see them all flower at once but no, ‘Jorvik’ is bursting now. How do people manage to have those superb Auricula theatres with everything blooming at once?
I planted white epimediums in tubs this week and also Astilbe Japonica in the ground and it looks very happy!
My favourite freesias, the common ones that smell so beautiful, are coming into flower and I long for filled vases in every room.
The fernery is beginning to show life. It began as one tree fern and then another and now we have four, although the two new ones are slow to reveal their fronds. I’ve filled in the bulk with a staghorn on the garage wall and with little ferns from the wild, Tasmanian natives whose names I am unsure of. But I was so pleased today to see a soft chartreuse frond just popping out of a lacy clump that is infinitely delicate amongst its broader leafed neighbours.
And finally, Ferdy the Fish has moved from the perennial border to the tub on the patio. He still seems as unimpressed as he ever was…
The Propagator is offering wonderful links on gardening today. Enjoy!
The garden is looking fab, happy planting in the orchard.
Thank you, Libby, it’s so wet tonight. The subsoil is saturated and they’re now forecasting flooding rains and part of the highway back to the city is subsiding so they’ll probably close that too. Last year of course, we were in the middle of THE worst drought and wondering how we’d get the farm through the summer. What a difference a year makes.
One of the great things about Six on Saturday is that we all get two bites of the seasonal cherry as your antipodean seasons are the opposite of ours. What’s not to like about spring flowers in late summer, even if we can only see them and not smell? I’m glad I’m not the only person who gives garden ornaments names.
Hi John. It’s why I love SoS. In the depths of winter, I can live vicariously. As for my garden sculptures – all have names. It’s mainly for my little two year old grandson. He relates…
I love Ferdy the fish.
He’s so glum and drear, I almost feel I should change his name to Grumps the Groper. I always think gropers look spectacularly grumpy fish. 😉
My robin sculpture is called “Robin”……original, don’t you think? Yes, different seasons’ pictures are most welcome. I must be more organised with my tulip planting this year. Interesting Six-on-Saturday again.
Very appropriate name, Granny. 😉
Glad to see spring flowers and a cooler weather than us. The heat wave is over, but reading your Six gives me a refreshing boost. I love the last picture with Ferdy the fish
We’re flooded today, Fred. The garden is fast becoming a vast lake as the rain tumbles down. Hoping that my spring garden is actually allowed to flower at some point and doesn’t just rot away. So odd – this time last year we were in the fiercest drought and wondering how our farm would survive the summer heat, bushfire and empty waterholes.
crocuses! i’ve forgotten to order crocuses. thanks for the reminder service!
You’re welcome, Jon.
Ferns don’t seem to get the sort of popularity they deserve, Prue. I’ve got just the one, and I am always amazed when I watch the slow unfurling process.
I hope you get decent weather to enjoy the coming of spring.
Pádraig, in my limited experience, it’s one of the best ways to fill a shady corner where there is a humid microclimate. It becomes its own little fairy glade. We’ve got some wonderful indigenous tree-ferns or man-ferns in Tasmania and beautiful rainforests that are actually World Heritage protected, so we grow up with an idea that fern-glades are something special. I’ve had four gardens in my life and every one of them has had a fernery. Must be the Tasmanian in me! 😉
Yes indeed. My single fern is in a definite micro-climate spot and it’s obviously very suitable. Isn’t fernery just a lovely word? Much softer than dahlia ery or even shrubbery.