Just like a real garden

Robert Frost famously wrote in his poem The Mending Wall, "Something there is that doesn't love a wall..".  I maintain the same thing applies to paths.

No sooner have I cleared our walkways of weeds and overhanging branches than they repay my opening up of the space to the sun and breeze by growing right back in.  Under some circumstances, I'd swear the regrowth begins in the space of a day or less.

Lately the mornings have not been particularly cool and the humidity is punishing. The hours I've spent weeding and pruning and digging out under the circumstances are what I consider "hard labor".  I'm quite pleased with the results but fear they won't last long, so up go these photos as a record of the work done so far.

Two BEFORE views.  There are an equal number of weeds and self seeded garden plants at play.

As you see, these portions are half cleared.  As is so often the case I nearly forgot to take a "before" shot at all!

And now the AFTER shot.  Reasonably pristine and for all its brevity, a thing of beauty:

The side and far back paths still need work but they remain in shade a greater portion of the day and so are easier to address.  I'll spend 90 minutes each morning there until I finish, while entertaining the hope a majority of the weeds have called it quits for the summer. (I know - that is a ridiculous presumption but I need to pretend or I'm afraid I'll simply throw in the trowel!).

Why bother to show such nuts and bolts, potentially boring photographs of something as simple as a cleared path?  Because I feel many blogs are often filled with spectacular photos of garden successes alone, presenting a deceptive idea of what it takes to garden.  Some blogs remind me a bit of Disney properties, where teams of clean up crews appear from underground tunnels, do their work out of the sight of the public, and then disappear again leaving behind the impression the grounds have somehow maintained themselves.

I am here to say it outright.  These spaces do not maintain themselves! For most of us there are certainly no tunnels, and potentially no "teams". There are only our own hours to spend and our willingness to do the work, whatever it is, when it is pleasant to do so, and as importantly, when it is not.

In the meantime, I'm focusing on the parts of the path already cleared, and enjoying the view for as long as I can.  Weeded! Trimmed! Just like a real garden....

Photographic Memory

Going outside with my camera is a more frequent occurrence than going out to weed or water either one.  Bottom line, taking and even editing photographs is simply a lot more enjoyable than hauling watering cans or yanking weeds. Both watering and weeding are important precursors to having anything worth taking photographs of, naturally.  With a sketchy memory like mine, having photographs on hand as reminders of the potential rewards sure comes in handy as motivation.

If one day I am scratching my head and wondering, hmmmm....how long did it take to get from hauling water to baby along the plants shown here...

Bluebonnets! March 10, 2014

past here...

I cut these mature seed pods prior to predicted heavy rain (3 inches!).  May 3, 2014

to here?

Harvested bluebonnet seed futures May 18, 2014

I simply pull up the photos I've taken for the blog and check the dates.  Then when doing that triggers a desire to go back,

March 18, 2014

back,

February 24, 2014

all the way back

February 18, 2014

to see how long it took to get from here...

February 14, 2014

to here?  Rinse, lather, repeat.

April 2, 2014

Occasionally, a before and after set helps remind me of lessons re-learned. Guess what happens when I stubbornly put a cheater pot out front filled with proven delicious-to-deer bloomers?

So pleased with myself for planning ahead, tra la! April 14, 2014

Sigh...Yup.  It might not occur the first night, it might not occur until after two or three nights, but the key takeaway is that The Munching always happens eventually and things ends badly.  For the plants, at least.  I'm supposing the deer was delighted.

I moved the pot out front May 1, 2014.  The morning of May 3rd it looked like this.  Bambi wins again!

Finally, when it comes to jobs that won't, simply can't, last as long as I'd like, such as weeding?  Oh such a thankless job, weeding.  Because I never get ahead, I can never stay ahead.  The seed bank accounts in my garden beds unfortunately represent multiple seasonal deposits.  One withdrawal barely makes a dent.

Rather than reaching for a flamethrower, I find looking at before and after shots encouraging.  A "You've done it once, you can do it again!" approach.  A reminder that these spaces look pretty good, given the chance to shine they way they were originally intended.  Because while this is everything I could hope for in a garden tableau...

April 19, 2014

unfortunately then it morphs into this....

Weedy weedy gone to seedy. May 18, 2014

and takes hours of stoop labor to get it back to this, again.

The reappearance of the ceramic shard mosaic mulch is fussy work but worth it.  The colors underneath the bench function as a reverse shadow all summer long.  May 19, 2014

Are all the weeds in this bed one hundred percent gone?  Ha! Not even close. I'll allow myself a generous accounting of ninety-nine percent gone, and know that if I can get back to this space every week or so for just a few minutes of work, I'll have the summer's worth of joy as my reward. That's a pretty fair trade.  And not if, but when I forget?  The photos will be right here to remind me.

In the eye of the beholder

According to online sources, the term "weed" is typically applied to any plant "that is not valued where it is growing and is usually of vigorous growth (especially: one that tends to overgrow or choke out more desirable plants)."

But that term cannot possibly be applied (in my garden beds at least) to the Bristly Mallow (Modiola caroliniana).  Not only do I love the way it looks in bloom, far from choking out more desirable plants, it grows and blooms when and where little else seems happy, in early Spring around the base of our back yard bird feeder's post.

Round fruit forming, referred to as "wheel shaped schizocarps".  A schizocarp is a dry fruit that splits into two or more one-seeded portions at maturity.

Low growing, with the most amazing tiny (half inch wide or less) coral to orange flowers, it takes a good lean-down to observe the starburst of red anthers dancing above the familiar mallow form of its blossoms.

Reportedly people traditionally prepared medicinal infusions of the leaves (the seeds are toxic) along with using the leaves in fresh salads.  But I wouldn't dream of harvesting these plants at the moment.  I'm too busy being captivated by the delicate coral colored blossoms highlighted against the contrasting chartreuse colored fruit.

In other news - I spotted the first hummingbird of the season at our back yard feeder this afternoon.  I put both our feeders up about 10 or so days ago when I noted other local bloggers were reporting their first sightings.  This photo is from another year but is a close match to the bird I saw today which I believe is an immature black chinned hummingbird.  Hummingbirds put on quite a show each year and I'm always happy to welcome these visitors back.

Given my oak allergies (readers will be freely forgiven for wondering how many more mentions this topic will get) I admit at this time of year it might seem only sensible to limit my garden observations to whatever I can see from our windows.  But with tiny birds and even tinier flowers out to play, any definition of sensible will have to yield to the delights on offer.