Oh, Yes! I Love Texas

It's February 8 and the first wildflowers are appearing on the hillside in the backyard...JOY

windflower anemone 

Coneflower at Twilight

White Flowers of May

Yarrow in the south wall garden.

White water lilies in stock tank pond at twilight. 

Because You Can Never Have Too Many Black-eyed Susans

These are my happy flowers; they remind me of my momma so I planted gobs of them.  Oh yes, they're in the backyard too.   Happy Friday, friends.

The Truth of the Matter

Happy Spring, Happy Me

A few random thoughts:  April is the most promising of months.  This spring is so fabulous, I can hardly sleep. I'm completely falling in love with my camera again.  All I can think about is my garden. My back hurts and my nails look horrible.  I'm happy.  I hope you are too.

Seasonal Shift

S U M M E R

F A L L

Thinking Outside the Drive-Way

There's nothing like a long, pleasant spring and a bunch of garden tours to motivate and inspire.  These tours always cause me to come home and look at my garden with fresh eyes.  After gardening in the same spot for fifteen years, I can easily become narrow-viewed to the potential for new ideas.

While touring with my friend Pam, I mentioned not having much space left to garden and she simply replied, "oh, there's always more space."   Such a matter-of-fact statement that she probably doesn't even recall saying caused me to scrutinize any available spaces. 

So I came home and started ripping out grass in a skinny little strip at the drive-way's edge.  The soil is beautiful after years of decomposing leaf litter.  It gets morning sun and is shaded by the house during the heat of the day.  In other words, this is prime gardening real estate!

Then I went in and shopped the house.  This old iron piece was perfect for vertical gardening.  It probably comes as no surprise that I happened to have a few plants on hand.  Gulf Coast penstemon, a red passion flower vine, red salvia coccinea and fall aster (not shown) were among my choices.  The name of the plant to the left rear escapes me...anyone know?  **Edit: Many thanks to Steph at Rambling Wren for her id which led me in the right direction; the plant is called Persicaria microcephala 'Red Dragon'**

The passion vine is tender here in zone 8 so I will either grow it as an annual or if it's just too happy and I love it, I'll take a cutting this fall.

So far it's happy and I love it ♥

The best part of this new found little bed is that it sits right outside the laundry room window.  The transformed view is so much more inviting than the plain, worn fence ever was!
 

The Invention of the Handle

Evening closes in gently.

A meandering country road snakes along the river carrying a couple, a long time married.

There are scarlet buckeyes in bloom and ephemeral beauties with slow beating wings nonchalantly gathering nectar...confident of tomorrow's abundance.

We give thanks for the invention of the
handle.  Without it there would be many
things we couldn't hold on to.  As for the
things we can't hold on to anyway, let us
gracefully accept their ungraspable nature
and celebrate all things elusive, fleeting, and
intangible.  They mystify us and make us
receptive to truth and beauty.  We celebrate
and give thanks.
Amen   {The Prayer Tree - Leunig}

Do Something Today that Scares You

The sure, solid ground so long taken for granted rumbles, fractures and the context of my world shifts.  Simple pleasures that once brought tranquility and joy become insurmountable; a wall of false security carefully built around the cracked foundation to hold it in place begins to hold me in place, captive, immobile.

Acres have been cleared in our quiet neighborhood and wildlife is scrambling to find new territory.  Coyote sightings have become common place; spotted mid-afternoon, ambling calmly down the sidewalk in the front, stopping to forage on a neighbor's pyracantha, hunting small mammals in the greenbelt behind the house and often heard celebrating their kill in the early morning hours. 

I don't begrudge them their need to survive but if I'm being honest, the possibility of coming upon a pack of them unnerves me.  No, terrifies me. To the point that I've quit walking the trails.  I love the trails.  I've become afraid of the trails.

An unseasonably cold afternoon found me longing for a solitary walk.  I made my way out the back gate and up the trail.

It doesn't seem like much, this simple act of opening the back gate and putting one foot in front of the other but it was a step in obedience. 

A step toward the certainty that the ground will forever be shifting and it will sometimes crack and throw my balance; a step toward seeing the possibility of discovering goodness and light in shifting ground and another toward the tranquility and joy found again in simple pleasures.  
 

Move Along. Move Along. Nothing To See Here.

:: cotton tail and goldeneye :: fall in central Texas :: happy heart

She'll Be Back

Ah!  Look!  A butterfly!

These words drifted through the window and pulled me from the comfort of my chair.   A small girl excited by the sight of a butterfly stood open mouthed; transfixed by the acrobatic, graceful movements.  And I too stood transfixed, marveling at this small child's delight in her simple discovery.

She gets it, I thought to myself.  She really gets it.  A smile opened itself wide on both our faces as we shared the moment.  She reluctantly trailed after her companion and I wanted to yell, wait, wait ... you haven't seen the hummingbirds yet or the many lizards or the swallowtails.  But I think she knows.  She'll be back.

Joy was written all over her face.

Bliss Floating Above the Milkweed

                  

         Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, 

but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you. 

 Nathaniel Hawthorne  

This is Where I Would Bee Too :: Sweet Almond Verbena

Sweet almond verbena (Aloysia virgata) beckons from across the garden.  The scent of this sweetly flowering shrub compels pollinators and gardeners alike to seek out the wispy blooms.  So small and seemingly insignificant, they throw off the most amazing amount of luscious scent. 

Impossible to resist ...

What do Rebar, Shadows and Garden Tours Have in Common?

I enjoyed the company of fellow bloggers Pam, Shirley and David last Saturday while strolling several Austin gardens.  Gardens on Tour 2013, sponsored by the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, offered a glimpse into an eclectic mix of gardens featuring native and adapted plants.    

While sifting through the photos, these three captured my imagination with their form and light play.  This rebar awning at 2001 Westridge Drive was fantastic.  Just shows how much hardscape can play a vital role in design.

I'm sorry to say I still haven't regained my blogging mojo so please visit my friend's posts (just click on their names) to get a detailed description of the gardens.  You'll find tons of gardening inspiration and a variety of styles showcasing the many beautiful plants that call Austin home.

What Hope and Yellow Have in Common

The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring.

                                                                                                                 ~ Bern Williams

When One Gets Quiet

When one gets quiet, then something wakes up inside one, something happy and quiet like the stars.

                                                                                                                    W. B. Yeats

                                                                                                                                          

Wordless Wednesday :: Camouflage

A Broad View Reveals Micro-Climates

Here in zone 8 Austin, Texas it takes winter a while to arrive.   And it's not long before spring is hard on it's heels.

So in an effort to live more intentionally, I ventured out after our 2.7" of blessed cold rainfall and took a look-see.  It's a lot easier to really look hard at your surroundings when you're not so worried about stepping on a rattlesnake.

The soft, subdued winter hues were relaxing and it was so quiet ... no ac units humming, no noisy lawn equipment; just the trickle of water, bird song and the gentle breeze.

Taking my time I took note of how different everything looks after a winter's soaking rain.

I love the skeletal forms of the flame leaf sumac amongst the heavily textured grasses.  I even like the contrasting dark green background of juniper although its pollen makes me constantly clear my throat (which is mild compared to others who suffer 'cedar fever').   I love the evergreen quality that is Austin with its numerous Live Oak trees and junipers.

Coming back into the garden it was easy to see it.  Really see it.  While we've had several freezes, micro-climates throughout the garden have left pockets of tender plants to stand until the ultimate freeze comes along.

My garden is in this strange, wondrous state of in-between.  

Tender variegated flax lily (foreground),  dwarf palmetto (middle), nearly dormant Turk's cap (rear middle)

With the Turk's cap nearly dormant the flax lily is really stealing the show.  Although the lily is tender, it has escaped damage so far.  When frozen in the past, it has come back from the roots.

The palmetto is new, added last spring, and will eventually grow into the space serving as a nice textural, evergreen shrub visually softening the wood fence.  It isn't a dense shrub so the other plants will be able to grow amongst its foliage.  As it grows larger, the Turk's cap may need to be relocated but as the palmetto is a slow grower, they are fine for now. 

The shady garage bed; rear from left to right : Japanese yew, forsythia sage, cast iron, philodendron, variegated ginger, Japanese aralia, Japanese yew.  Middle from left to right:  pineapple sage (view obstructed), flax lily (struggling), yellow columbine, variegated ginger, Japanese maple, heartleaf skullcap, cast iron, sparkler sedge, oakleaf hydrangea, river fern, mondo grass.  Front left to right: yellow columbine.

Seeing this bed in partial dormancy is really unusual and it struck me the other day how pretty it is like this.  Still lush with lots of nice texture and color.  Typically the pineapple sage, philodendron and ginger would be dormant as are the forsythia sage, oakleaf hydrangea, Japanese maple and river fern.

The pineapple sage continues to draw in winter bees and butterflies on warm, sunny days.  

Tighter view of the heartleaf skullcap (just beginning to revive for it's spring show), Japanese aralia (behind the stump), sparkler sedge (right) and oakleaf hydrangea (lower right).

Cast iron (left), Japanese aralia (rear right) and sparkler sedge (lower right).  I love how the variegated foliage is brightening up this shady spot. 

The face of the coffee root sculpture watches over this part of the garden with a sage expression.  She stands out nicely against the brick wall and is more salient with the leaves of the maple (left) now scattered at her feet. 

Across the garden, the beautiful, silver bark of the native Texas persimmon grows amongst river fern (foreground of fountain), variegated ginger (behind the gate), star jasmine (trellis left) and Martha Gonzales rose.   Salvia mexicana stands tall at the back of the photo.  All the tender plants show a bit of damage but not enough to distract from the lush verdant display of the plantings.

Micro-climates are making a huge difference in my garden this winter.  It's the perfect marriage of a semi-dormant garden and no mosquitoes!  We've been finding a little bit of time here and there to relax out here and enjoy the unique view these micro-climates have offered.

What's growing in the micro-climates around your garden?

The Importance of Turning Around ...

You can't underestimate the importance of turning around.  I don't know why the view always looks so different, but it does.  While walking in Lost Maples park last week I was admiring the gorgeous sunlit grasses and thought to turn around to see how the light might be playing upon them differently to my back.  And I saw this amazingly lit tree.  It's always worth it, on so many levels, to turn around and see from where you came.