This all looks so nicely composed, doesn’t it? The hanging impatiens above the ferns and the container below, with all sorts of nice contrasting textures from the ferns and the Japanese maple.
You can see by the title of my post that very little of it was planned. Lately, my best gardening just seems to “happen,” (although perhaps that is my imagination and my perfectionism talking).
But I will tell you that I didn’t plant any of those ferns. Nature sowed them for me. I just encourage them by watering (which is a feat, some years, like this one, when I am getting precious little help from nature!)
There is one spot where they don’t want to grow so I put a planter there. It has an impatiens plant the same color as the one in the hanging basket but you can’t tell. It’s been completely overrun by the oxalis. Oh well.
The color of the oxalis at least picks up the foliage of the Japanese maple leaves, and the cordyline. So you don’t miss the impatiens much.
And after I went out to get the impatiens plant, the Spoiler said, “oh. I thought you were going to plant a pot for the lawn.”
So I had to make a second trip to the garden center–not generally a hardship except in a pandemic–for more plants.
And that’s why he’s called the Spoiler.
You probably remember this photo from Wednesday. It’s not one of the ones that has the real mist and fog behind it.
If I want to work around these plants, I try to do so either very early in the morning or later in the evening. As soon as the sun hits them, the bees find them–and they are covered in bees.
You may remember my remark from Monday about not being able to get good photos of bees. I see lots of good photos of bees on social media and I marvel.
I think with me it stems from 2 things: the first is my own limitations. I am not nearly patient enough to wait for the right shot, to set it up, etc.
I also don’t use the right equipment. A tripod would help steady the camera and a macro lens would get me closer to the bees without getting on top of them.
But all of that comes from me believing that a bee has to do its thing without any more interference from us humans. Isn’t its job already hard enough? Do you really need to see a picture of a bumblebee? We all know what a cute fuzzy bumblebee is.
But I digress. And yes, bumblebees are one of the bees on my hydrangeas. As are honeybees. And smaller bees that I haven’t identified.
And even a couple of steel blue cricket hunter wasps.
So you can see that these hydrangeas are magnets for pollinators. Or you can at least hear about it.
Hate is really the wrong word for the way I feel about my tree peony. Colossal waste of space would generally sum it up much better. I am not one who generally hates blooming plants (or any plants or other living things).
What generally happens to this glorious plant is that its bloom tends to coincide with our first heat wave. And so its flowers tend to want to do this.
Notice the flower in front hiding behind the leaf. They tend to bloom for all of one day, then fry, and burn up and they’re done. It’s so disappointing.
This year, we didn’t have an early heat wave. The plant bloomed for over a week. In over 25 years living in this house, I have never seen this. It’s been spectacular.
So all is forgiven.
Something’s clearly not right with the leaves of this hydrangea. Several of them are all glued or stuck together at the top.
If you look at this photo of the peeled opened leaf cluster, you can see several holes that have been chewed in the leaves, as well as small black dots. That’s caterpillar frass (the polite term for its excrement).
And here, just barely visible, (look for the tiny black head) is the creature known as the hydrangea leaftier.
It doesn’t affect all hydrangeas. As the title of my post indicates, only smooth hydrangeas are susceptible. If you’re not sure what smooth hydrangeas are, they are ones with names like ‘Annabelle,’ Invincibelle Spirit and Incrediball. The botanical name is hydrangea arborescens.
How do you treat these? It’s very simple. You prune them off as soon as you see them. Since this type of hydrangea blooms on new wood, the sooner you catch them, the better it is.
Insecticides are unlikely to work because the insect is so deep inside the leaf pocket so don’t waste your time.
The sooner you get them, the fewer you’ll have. So keep your eyes open if you have this type of hydrangea. A little preventative pruning goes a long way to keeping them happy!
I am not sure that I have ever talked about this before but this is an idea that I used when I worked in retail gardening and I still use it for myself as a handy “marker” to remember important things. I often talk about it in my lectures.
What am I talking about? Well, I key important things in the garden to regional or national holidays. And of course, this is not original to me.
The famous fertilizer company “4-step plan” is based on something similar–the concept of phenology, of when plants bloom.
I found, however, that folks had no idea when plants bloom (or in some instances, what the blooming plants referenced by the fertilizer company were!)
So I changed it up a bit. Here in the United States, everyone knows when Income Tax day is (April 15) or that Mother’s Day is the second weekend in May. Memorial Day is the last weekend in May.
For us here in Connecticut, the lilacs (above) bloom at Mother’s Day. It’s true even in this exceptionally cold spring. So that’s a good marker for folks.
There are some particularly nasty sawfly larva that come out some time between Mother’s Day and Memorial Day, depending on temperatures. One skelatonizes rose leaves; the other attacks mugo pine. If I were to say “watch for these in May,” that’s pretty vague. But to say, “keep your eyes open between Mother’s Day and Memorial Day,” now folks have some idea of the timeframe to check their plants.
I even use it to remember that one of my favorite migratory birds, the catbird, usually returns around Mother’s Day. This year it returned May 6.
So “holiday gardening” can be helpful for reminders. And who doesn’t need reminders now and again?