What's Left Over

It's late fall. Even with this year's unseasonably warm afternoon temperatures edging towards 10C, Nature still follows its heart. Flowers shed their petals. Seed pods ripen and burst. The money plant's papery remains are one of the most unusual in the garden.

Only the hardiest leaves cling. This oak leaf hydrangea provides the last of the bright colours.

Less animals scurrying about at night gives the moss time to recover.

One last walk through the back garden begins here.

Here's the front corner, almost one colour, not green not brown not bare.

Every Garden Needs a Guardian

What's in Bloom?

After four years, Wisteria is having its best year covering half my pergola.


Doublefile Viburnum holds its lush branches out to offer these beautiful flowers.


Mertensia, Virginia Bluebells, peeps out from under the viburnum.


Here it is, the Chocolate Vine, Akebia quinata, that ate my fence. I had no idea this would happen. I'm still charmed by its delicate leaves and even more subtle flowers, but that could change if it starts to strangle my shrubs.


Here's a Chocolate Vine flower.


I thought my Kerria had died, so I moved it to a sunnier spot and voila!


I love the tiny ballet slippers of Solomon's Seal. Also, the plant reminds me of the old gardener, now passed, from whom I bought my first clump.


Soapwort. The sections that have seeded in my patio are even nicer than the main plant.


An early flowering White Clemaits climbing an old plum tree.

Full On Spring

Take a walk down the path to my garden.


Ferns begin to unfold.


Snakeroot reaches for the sun.


The bees seek out the earliest nectar.


Pasqueflower is bold and full.


Trillium for my Canadian home.

When The Sun Finally Warms Us

Two crows cawing and gamboling from one branch at the maple's peak to another until they find one that sways but doesn't bend under both their weights.

The red capped house finches flitting around the feeder for hours before one alights and then another and then they gorge.

Pistils lengthen, forcing the petals to reveal each gradation of colour.

It's the hunger season and I've got extra feeders.

Scattering Seeds

It's still too cold to do anything but putter in the garden, so putter I did. Where the leaves looked matted, I gently stirred them. The ground underneath had shrunk and there was a tidy air pocket for sprouting. I needn't have worried about plants smothering. As well, stiffer sprouts like Solomon's Seal and the Spring bulbs were already pushing through the blanket of leafy mulch. Plants know what to do. Best to just leave them to it.

Nonetheless, it's not Spring if seeds aren't scattered, so I picked the fluffy tops off the Asters, cracked the pods on the Turtleheads and ended up with a handful of seeds. I pressed these into gaps between the bulbs. Now I sit back and hope for a success or two.

Let's Get Started

The sun is absolutely shining. I am desperate to lift or at least shuffle around the layer of leaves protecting my beds and see what's happening under there.
Is it too early to lift the mulch? I think it might be. The frost is still in the ground and the forecast nighttime lows are still zero-ish. Darn.
Guess I can pick up the dog mess and hunt for greenery for another week.

Welcome Spring to the Garden

The Witch Hazel is in bloom. It's late but hugely uplifting after this cold, endless winter.

Feels Like Spring

Yesterday's raucous rocketing temperatures, eighteen Celcius, melted most of the remaining snow on my north-facing garden. I'm desperate for the sun to rise. I want to get out there and pick away at frozen mulch, not removing it but separating the leaves so that the Spring bulbs can think about nudging through to the sun.