This plant goes from erupting to gestating seedpods in two weeks.
We are roughly two weeks behind where we were last year, based on last year’s photographs. Everything I mention in this post was in bloom at this time last year. The weather changes so much from year to year that I cannot tell you which year is closer to normal—or if there is a normal any more.
Weather aside, I love spring ephemera and will search for them doggedly from mid-March on as long as it’s not pouring rain. They are mostly very small, so I have to actually walk away from the window, go outside, and exercise my eyes looking for changes. Changes are rapid, so there is plenty of incentive to go outside frequently.
Why on earth would I be writing about transplanting in the middle of the dog days of summer? This is not the ideal time to move plants, unless they are irises, but it is the time to note what needs adjusting in the fall. I moved these plants in mid-June. It couldn’t wait any longer, but ideally you want to move plants while they are dormant, preferably in the spring or fall when temperatures are more moderate, and especially when there is a promise of rain—my favorite time to rearrange plants is the day (or morning) before rain is expected. Continue reading “Three Quick Transplant Stories”
It’s been just over a month since I spotted this year’s twinleaf. It probably came up a couple of days before I captured it.
Within a week, it was blooming!
The flowers do not last long.
For now, we are in the only sober and serious phase this plant has: growing those seeds. If you look carefully, the swelling seedpods are hiding in the foliage.
As you walk by, there is no obvious activity.
It’s all very discreet, until the seedpods are ready to pop. That’s when twinleaf enters the botanically rare, but wonderful, silly phase.
Back on April 5, the twinleaf appeared.
Twinleaf just delights me, and this spring I caught them just as they broke dormancy. Like many other early spring flowers, the flower comes first, and leaves follow as the plants emerge from their capsules. Clearly, flowers are their first priority.
I mentioned that I thought it was rather dry in my previous post. I was quite surprised when I checked the weather Monday night and discovered a weather alert—a red flag warning. I have several cities listed in my weather app, so I thought I must have somehow switched to Arizona. No! Not Arizona—it was my hometown, as well as the rest of southeastern Michigan. Due to high winds, extremely low humidity, and high temperatures, there was a serious risk of fire starting and then spreading very easily. A red flag warning means no outdoor burning.
I watered the hostas that I had rescued and replanted when I removed the Scilla bifolia ‘Rosea.’
Meanwhile, my magnolia has bloomed. The house, partially in deep shade in this photograph, was such a distraction that I photoshopped it into a uniform blur. These flowers really were dancing in the sun.
We’ve had a very chilly April. While I have not heard anyone mention Alberta clippers lately, I see that the winds still seem to be sweeping down and over through western Canada. I wrote about what I hoped was the final April snow on April 10, which would have been roughly average. We had more snow on April 17, and a week in there somewhere with daily flurries. It’s only 43°F right now, and it’s late morning. The garden is moving slowly, but despite the temperature and some very hungry rabbits, there are flowers blooming.
Continue reading “Four Plants, Three Weeks: Budbreak to Bloom”
We have been stuck in a cold and dreary weather pattern, and I have been poking around for days looking for something beyond Scilla bifolia ‘Rosea’ and snowdrops when the sun peeks out.
Early Spring Bulbs
This year, the snowdrops bloomed first. The squirrels have done a pretty good job of spreading them out.
The Scilla bifolia ‘Rosea’ have survived the extremely heavy layer of leaves that I put on their bed in the hopes of tamping down their exuberance.
They are really beautiful, but their multiplicative tendencies are positively alarming. They are blooming in the lawn under the silver maple and in a big mass under the witch hazel. Continue reading “Cloudy and 37°F. Again.”
The twinleaf has revealed its true self. It looks like a cigar-smoking little alien, doesn’t it? This is twinleaf at its silliest. How many plants can you say have a well-defined silly stage?
But this toothy stage is hard to catch—from the time the first pod pops until the last seed is gone is less than 24 hours. Here is a seedpod very carefully clipped and held so that you can see its full seediness. Continue reading “Twinleaf Revisited”