We got about an inch and a half of badly needed rain last night. Also tons of lightning & thunder. I went to sleep awash in ozone and a state of open-tuned receptivity of negative ion soothing and healing. When I got up I went out with the cat almost immediately. The landscape is much refreshed and enlivened.
The peonies are very happy. The buds are literally twice the size they were before yesterday's heat spike and then the rains.
My brainstorm to use one of the extra peony hoops for the massive volunteer foxglove in the evolving sanctuary appears to have been solid. Have used the other three support sticks for unruly strapling retraining and stabilizing. Thinking of weaving an enormous wreath with the other ring. Or wrapping (how tedious but possibly worth it ...) with brightly colored yarns and thread. May well continue to think about it and not-do.
as you can see, the milkweed volunteers are plentiful despite my inadvertent removal of two long root systems. You energized us I was assured. Every morning when I come outside to greet this particular garden, I discover new milkweed stalks arriving . Last year we had a few Monarch butterflies. I dare to dream...
This is the part of the evolving sanctuary that I first began to reclaim as some kind of new Thing. For a long time - four years or so - I thought of this area as the evolving corridor. Then various other forms of sentience began to shift my awareness of the entire garden as an evolving sanctuary. As you can see, the majestic Fleece Flower is intensely shrub-like. As I'd hoped, this impromptu addition really anchors that part of the original landscaped garden. Now being re-ordered and organized.
Here's the same general area looking west to east. In the background, note how happy the joe pye weed appears to be. This is one of my favorite plants I first got to know during the summer of '05, up on the hilltop, and SL2's adjacent landscape
a lot of the blank areas are either seeded or sitting in reserve for the sunflowers.
they're doing well, and I got some great email tips for gently successful transplanting.
and look. a flower stalk is forming ...
(smiling & happy)
also was very smiling and happy as i worked for twenty suspended minutes of listening to birds in the sun while pruning and weeding in the above pot. It was left behind by the previous owners. The first summer we lived here, I bought a small lemon thyme plant and put it in this planter. By the end of the summer, it was overflowing. This went on for about five thriving years and then one year the thyme died back and revived itself in little air-layered clumps like those above.
There are also self-seeded dill seedlings because I apparently had some in there last year, I just didn't remember. About a month and a half ago, on a super-warm day, I poked in the two borage seeds. I have a few more in different containers. Love picking the fresh flowers for morning tea. My standard fave in the summer months is a small dill frond, plus a borage and anise hyssop flower. Growing tea herbs in containers is very rewarding as well as a fresh opportunity to get creative.
In the later afternoon I went out to the field and planted two of three young lemon thyme plants in the garden. I also planted the third in a re-purposed hanging pot to grow on the deck container garden right beside this pot. Additionally, I put in the two lavenders, although not where I'd originally imagined putting them. The garden...the landscape...the setting sun, day before yesterday. This triune made the suggestion. the timing is ideal. tomorrow it will only be 60 degrees, then rain all the following day at lower temps as well. So I'll get a lot more done then, too. I gave thought time today to inter-planting some of the green fennel seedlings with the new lavender. And then scattering my remaining California Poppy seeds amongst.
have been procrastinating a lot of the planting honors/obligations because it's been so baked out there. Like brick in some places, and during earlier planting sessions, I've been obliged to soak the ground for awhile. And then chopping with a hoe for almost twenty minutes to mix in compost and put in some stuff 3 or 4 days before the rain. It was good solid meditative work and I enjoyed being part of the field community. But it's not at all ideal for transplanting stuff that will have 11 or 12 hours of sunlight - in temps between 80 and 90.
I kept getting the sense it was wiser to wait.
J saw one of the snappys about a week ago. I haven't seen them but it's obvious they've been housekeeping amongst the nightshade wallow they've created directly across from where I stood to take this picture. I never used to take pictures here but lately I've been enjoying stringing them together to enjoy the variety of water reflections and how they shift depending on time of day and amount of sun or clouds.
here's the volunteer foxglove flowerhead rising through the very center of the flowering quince. The rain coaxed her final buds open. I got close to one of the blooms as I found my angle to capture the stalk rising towards the sunlight.