my garrulous garden-- plants gab in their own language away from ours.

amidst the blur of busy days and a thankful yesterday of some much-needed rain, i can supplement visitors here with a quick view of my garden. the opportunity always charms my eyes and then, through the yarn-like strips of energy in life stitches, my heart.

a prized eye-scoop here is the now fleeting scene involving a daylily called you are my sunshine. some white salvia finished off in the background.

the bright white of the shasta daisy in booming clusters lulls me in, every time.

most of my hydrangea are persuaded in their soil spots to bloom in blue, but this one screeched lightly in faint purples and lavenders.

and this one spoke clearly petal-wise in blue.

a few black eyed susan are popping up, with some sadly dried out and bleached hosta behind them. i've transplanted some hosta and bartered others, but for some reason, the previous homeowners planted these hosta in full-sun. they need shade. so much work, all around ! in shade, they are pure lovers.

my queen anne's lace fluffed out madly this year. it is a weed, technically, but so are many plants we cherish in our gardens. i planted a single little sprig of queen anne's lace last year, and this is what it looks like now, snow-topped and all.

for a year or two, my trumpet vine barely spread at all. but this spring, it crawled far across my fence line, ants dancing along the orange-soaked petals.

the asiatic lily has so many kinds in its family that i wouldn't know where to begin to describe this one by name, but i'm sure it's out there, if i'd take the time to search for it. the last time my niece lillee grace visited, i walked her around and introduced her to the names of all the flowers in bloom, with this one of course a special almost star-like trailing sweep in the scene.

maurice river queen is another daylily tucked away in my garden.

this somewhat hidden bee had no problem showing his fuzzy butt to the lens of my camera as he worked along the fragrant purple of this butterfly bush.

a true tiger lily, perhaps ? it's in the asiatic family.

the gushing red of cardinal flower is one plant i haven't added to the garden yet. it's still in a pot patiently waiting for me to add it in with the other affectioned ones.

this ruby star coneflower is also in waiting for planting times.

the ones plumping up their persuasion in my garden are similar in color, but i'm not sure which specific kind they are.

the botanical name for coneflower is ecinachea. if it sounds familiar, that's because it's a plant often used in teas and other medicinal endeavors for helping you out when you are dealing with a cold.

for a year or two, i didn't know the name of this weed, but i loved it and added it to my garden. it reminded me of a tiny snapdragon and popcorn by its petals, although its foliage looks much different than the snapdragon. i finally identified it as yellow toadflax.

night embers is the final daylily in my garden aside from some wild tiger lily in a tall patch with the blooms done for the season.

merry plant-love, all !

rolling in nasturtium-speak.

while i power-walked along strip after strip of sidewalk tonight with the fur kid a few paw-skips ahead of me, i noticed how unreasonably captivating the sky is where it offers the illusion of it meeting the tops of buildings, when you look up and everything is slowly soaking to darkness after the sun as dipped low for nighttime.

this reminded me of a man i don't know in real life, but here on blogspot, he notes himself a resident of new york state boasting of haiku as his every single post. i recall the last one i read involved a pond and light-- by sun or moon, i can't recall.

when i eye-skimmed his blog, it made me realize, as i do every few months, that i should write more haiku in my days. and thinking back about haiku i've written, i observe that apparently, i am really into the sky, as it's a common word or partial word i douse through the knifed lines.

i did a few posts, or maybe one with several haiku, after his suggestion, some months ago. and i have to admit that it felt wonderful to write them. so obviously, my smartest move is penning more haiku, or any poetry, really. now it's time that's the obstruction-- that and my unnamed lethargy concerning what i should do but never usually in fact do.

so even if i tell myself i'll stick to this regiment and it doesn't end up happening, at least there is tonight, one night when i kept a promise to myself briefly.

this nasturtium screamed new ! to me this year, as i wasn't familiar with it before i saw it for sale as a pack of seeds. i bought the seeds and have some growing out of my old bicycle planter and a few others. the orange flower juxtaposed daisy-like is osteospermum, a perker always and often available in variants of purple petals as well, and sometimes in lemon yellow.

( haiku )

to pronounce your name,
nasturtium-- cut in four
syllables of sky

the humble yet still infamous tulip fence near the high school.

simply put, this is my favorite fence in all of boyertown.

where there are brightly hued plants 
all-year-round, even if faux-styled, there is love.

when plants turn bad-- the case of poison ivy and poison oak.

what comes in a set of three leaves per stem, screams of irritation on your skin a day after you touch it, and makes you itch all over ? poison ivy and poison oak, of course !

i say this with near enthusiasm, but we can all guess that my optimistic  angle is only so real here and is actually more geared toward prevention or treatment of the devilish problem that begins in patches of outdoorsy spots where these plants thrive.

last weekend, while visiting a friend, i realized she didn't know how to identify poison ivy and that we had nearly wiped our legs across some at a log that acted as a bench. but i can't say much better for myself, as i only in the past few years made the serious effort to start using selection vision to pick out poison ivy when i'm out and about in the sweep of greenery.

oftentimes, it appears shiny and oily, but not always. once you learn to distinguish it in a snap, your brain ticks, and you think, ut oh, bad news ! at the sight of it. but it's important to get to that point because if you are susceptible to it, your sensory spots, caked with the need for you to itch the rash zones, you will be claiming symptoms of misery later. and that doesn't even touch upon the fact that it loves to be difficult in departing from your burdened epidermis.

my brother scott told me that one agenda item he always tries to teach his landscape customers is how to identify poison ivy. this is an incredibly valuable lesson, as the mistake of jostling your limbs near the unfriendly, usually oily-topped leaves will pull out your sorries later.

the first aid aisle of most stores has at least a few variants of products for helping these awful disturbances to dissipate, but i've had minimal luck with any other than a calamine spray and a clear gel, both menthol-y and by the band-aid brand. another super-drying agent that has helped me out is fels-naptha, which is labeled as a heavy duty laundry bar soap.

tammy abraham of amber hills herbs & gifts gave me a little sample of rhassoul clay, which helps to draw out the oils and built-up moisture of this skin-angering ailment, when you mix it with water into a slight paste.

no one ever envies those who wear the fresh scars of poison ivy or poison oak. i believe that is agreeable enough ? learn the look of these leaves and avoid them like the plague.

a mostly fourth, franklin, and washington streets view.

it's been weeks since i've been for a camera-aimed walk around the streets of boyertown, but finally, i have a brief eye-happy tour to offer.

this light blue salvia is almost spent, but more blooms can be provoked if it is cut hard back to the ground. this is a bit of a perk in the realm of perennials.

i love seeing collections of annuals and their colorful throws beyond what i'm used to seeing at the garden center. so it's a good to eye-scope some variety in what's offered by local nurseries and greenhouses.

these daylily were probably quietly complaining for some water. i tell everyone i see who has children to ask the little ones to do a few rain dances ! we are in desperate need of rain, but at least the air cooled off in recent days.

this crape myrtle appears to be an early bloomer compared to others. i know the homeowners keep it extra protected with burlap in winter.

i'm not sure if this is lobelia, forget-me-nots, or something else. it is on the tip of my proverbial plant-talk tongue !

sky rocket juniper is a frosty contrast to brick and annual baskets, along with those blue mystery flowers.

i love this ribbiter's gape !

in a short stretch of street, you can see so much love and care doused outside of homes.

and dutch affections are evident !

this pond is set away behind the playground at franklin street. tomato plants line the inner side of an outer fence.

and these jumpy-topped coneflowers crawl their way slowly along the house where the pond is perched.

lilies of all kinds, while short-lived, are making their festive mark in yards and tiny stretches of space across town, and on any stroll, they are a pure delight to absorb vision-wise.

another pond ! it's refreshing to see even a handful of ponds tucked away into small townhouse yards.

i associate gerbera daisies with pure smiles.

sometimes, i forget that my shadow affects lighting ! vinca vine adds such a worthy element of difference to planters, and these pansies and marigold blend well with the variegated sway.

i barely walked even a few blocks, taking in these garden-nestled sights. think of how much more beauty is out there waiting to be appreciated, all from people's expression of love for the outdoors, the green, the good in the world in summer via plant efforts. i'm anxious for another spin around boyertown streets. and we could all use some quieter time of reflection while on foot, with the help of botanical bumpings.

until next time !

potted water lily galore, compared to before.

the garden center is mostly phasing out of selling pond plants and supplies since several years ago, as it's more of a specialty arena in the home and garden business kind of setting. but one item we can sell, when we have the time to prep the pots, is hardy white-blooming water lily pads.

our pond just steps away from the shop in the barn had just four pots of water lily pads placed about three to four feet below the water level probably close to a decade ago. despite being contained in pots, the knobby roots that are the main growing parts of the water lily have spread exponentially and are often floating under the pads at the surface of the pond. 

while searching through a list of plants requested by select customers a few weeks ago, i saw one request for water lilies. i knew i just had to find the time to get them potted, as we had none ready this season so far for selling.

so i had the weekend workers help me with finding appropriately sized black pots along with a load of 2b clean gravel for drainage, some screened and blended soil to cover the roots, and 3/4" river rock to decorate the top layer.

we ended up potting up probably ten to twelve lilies. these pads are about as big as paper plates and are aggressive spreaders. but the pads are quite ephemeral and soon brown out with squiggles of sunburn before sinking away, replaced by more ambitious pads.

water celery and wild mint are two very tenacious growers in pond settings, accompanying the big pond's lily pads.

 

wild mint of course thickens out fast in dryer plots of land too, like in my garden where it is taking over and has to be thinned out every few weeks. 

out of the nearly dozen lily pads we potted up, i think five sold pretty quickly. so if you know anyone who wants a lily pad, send them on over ! 

we've had some in from a pond supply company we used to buy from, and the lily pads were only about as big s your palm. 

customers told me the blooms were beautiful (white, possibly yellow, light pink, and a slightly light red) but that they pads never grew much. whereas on the other hand, the lily pads we pot up and sell-- i only recommend for those who have a big pond, nothing small. but i suppose you can always just rip off the pads and stems if they become too dense.

this is an example of the knobby root from which a lily pad grows. these have floated to the surface away from the originally placed pots at the bottom from years ago. they're a compromise between roots and wings, in a sense, perhaps. and the pale green dots  clustered all around it are duckweed, an invasive floater, which can be a good thing if you are looking for coverage to keep algae at bay.

anything miniature always pulls out the awh's in me ! this is a small lily we potted.

and that frog hanging on the left side of the pot may or may not be the weeks-ago smaller version of the one i posted about a few days ago.

the first three tomatoes ! and a splash-happy frog.

alas, my garden has finally sprouted three red and ready, miniature tomatoes ! they are sweet 100s, and i tested out that flavor factor with a bit of salt on some sliced halves.

after the first bite, i was ready to smack myself for my former picky palate. how did i miss out on this for so many years ? my mom used to cut cherry tomatoes into bobbing halves, sprinkling them with salt. she'd plop some onto a paper plate and eat them at the kitchen table. now, i finally get it.

honestly, i'm just giddy. plant-love turned food-love is clearly exciting when you're the garden harlot.

in amphibian news, a disruptor of silence carved his dent in my day the good way outside of the shop at the garden center yesterday. with heat in exhaustive degrees, i figured out his pattern quickly. 

every so often, i'd hear a tiny splash. this frog must have been sunning himself, but his outer layer would bake too much too quickly, and he'd jump back into the water. 

it stood as a pleasant interruption, every time i'd be bumped out of my train of thought by his need to cool off in the water in the rectangle pond where he had himslf perched on the edge atop old wood.