Trees

The sound of a bulldozer,kept me wondering what was going on in the farm-belt right across the cul-de-sac from our place. Then I heard the unmistable "THUD" of a falling tree. In no time a great number of trees were felled and while it opens up the vistas there is something painful in watching these trophies of many years growth sink to their knees in the blink of an eye. I had taken pictures of this view three months ago (May 20 blog post) simply to record the shadows falling on our street from trees on our yard. Now I'm glad that I've got pictures of before and after.
Before:

After:

The Poem, Trees by Joyce Kilmer,learned in my high school years keeps ringing in my ears:

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

I like to sit in my recliner when I'm on the phone and enjoy the view across the way while I'm chatting. It is tranquil and serene. I especially have enjoyed those tall graceful cottonwoods in the winter, when bereft of leaves they wave their bare arms, half of them swaying one way and the others in the opposite direction - it is a most amazing sight! It always reminds me of that couplet: "A tree that looks at God all day, and lifts her leafy arms to pray..."

There are still a lot of trees left but we've learned they'll all be taken down...the birds, racoons and squirrels will be scrambling. The city is encroaching...already we've not heard the coyotes for several years, and it's only a matter of time and this tract of land will end up as a housing development...but for now we'll enjoy the view.

A Posy - a gift

Earlier this summer, as I went to see my daughter's family, I was greeted at the front step by my three-year-old grandson clutching this delightful posy...a new hydrangea and a cluster of early roses from their garden. What a very special offering...so endearing to my soul.

Unfortunately I didn't take this picture until a few days later after I'd had the posy in a small vase with water and so it wasn't as "perky" as it was initially. This picture will help me remember that awesome moment when I saw the love and joy sparkling in that handsome little boys eyes as he thrust his little bouquet, along with his little body, into my open arms.

The Rose

The Rose

R eds and yellows, pink and white

bursting bright with color.

O verwhelming all in sight,

never growing duller.

S cents that take the breath away,

permeate the air.

E nchanting all they meet each day,

chasing every care.

Rebirth

Four days
Her petals furled
Gainst chilling wind and rain.
Came sun-and rose disclosed her heart
Pure gold.
-Emma Berthelot

A Hiccup

For those of you who view the blog regularly, you might want to check two entries that aren't in the order I had hoped. I composed them earlier but didn't post them until today. The Alysum is just below the Lily and for "The Posy" you need to scroll down to July 12. Thanks for checking! :)

The Lily - lilium

This year I replanted my two asiatic lilies in pots in order to be able to move them from one sunny spot to another. This has worked out well and now that they've done their job I can take them out of the limelight.

The first two pictures are of lily that bloomed later but was much richer in color than the first. My trusty "Flower Expert" tells me this is the Lilium 'Imperial Crimson'. This lily is particularly fragrant...but don't get too close since those showy anthers love to paint their orange pollen on anything that comes near.

Much earlier than these are my hardy "tiger lilies", that's what I call them anyway - both yellow and orange. They grow year after year and I keep those in the ground.

“The Lily"

L ong in stem, the lily grows, Behold them in the field.

I n purest white, like driven snows Their beauty will not yield.

L ovelier than Solomon, Or so it's been revealed.

Y ears shall not, them, see undone Those lilies of the field.

"I am a lily of the valleys." Song of Songs 2:1

Alyssum - Sweet Alyssum

Lobularia maritima( Sweet Alyssum )

Over the years I've come to appreciate the marvelous white Sweet Alyssum for many reasons. The alyssum, a cousin of sorts to the yellow early flowering perenniel which I featured in another blog (see May 11), comes up faithfully year after year, although it is classified as an annual or biennial. Being a bienniel allows for continual white blooms to flourish throughout the summer months right up until frost, since this years blooms are products of a parent alyssum blooming two seasons earlier. (That's how I understand bienniel flowers to bloom - the foxglove is another example of this kind of reproduction).

Of course I really like the alyssum because it is hardy and drought tolerant and fills up spaces in flower beds in great profusion, off-setting red geraniums, hot-pink impatiens, or brilliant magenta petunias. As alyssum grows and expands rapidly, it is necessary to pull out and clip its borders. Early next spring I'll find a multitude of tiny alyssum popping up all over the flower beds. I like to catch them early enough and place them where I'll need them, since alyssum do better being transplanted when they're tiny.

But the greatest bonanza comes when the alyssum emits its sweet honey-scented fragrance on a hot summer's day, effusing its intoxicating scent with great delight and spectacular generosity throughout the garden, for all lucky enough to enjoy.

There are many other heavenly scented flowering shrubs, vines and flowers which I'll post separately.

ps for those following the blog I posted one today which I'd had in my draft folder and it kept the original date (July 12) and so it's in that chronological order now. Can anyone tell me how to adjust the date so that I can post items from my draft folder on the current date?

The Trumpet Vine

 

 

 

 

The trumpet vine has masses of gorgeous orange trumpet-shaped blooms on it. It adds the perfect backdrop to the far reaches of the yard. Cascading over a sturdy arbour which Al had built for it, this vigorous and prolific "bloomer" shouts its song reminiscent of the quote below:

"Fairest of the months!
Ripe summer's queen
The hey-day of the year
With robes that gleam with sunny sheen
Sweet August doth appear."-
R. Combe Miller