It was easy to succumb to the steep downward slope and just sit on the grit of the ground. Small blooms of true blue drew me further down, face to gravel and greens. I called out to my son Alder, to show him my find, but the pervasive roar of falling water drowned my voice. … Read more
Spires of shocking pink rising from the greenery call to me. This is a color that says “look at me!” Closer, the fuzziness of Douglas spiraea (Spiraea douglasii) blooms beg also to be touched. I have to watch out that I don’t grasp a foraging bumblebee. These native summer flowers are popular with bees … Read more
In Heather’s kitchen, around plates of rice crackers and hummus, homemade chocolates and Best Day NA beer, the talk turned to Spanish bluebells. I held my tongue and listened, nodding along with Shannon’s heartache after digging and digging last year only to see just as many return this spring. Ryan would love to do … Read more
Bent at an unflattering angle to get the blooms backgrounded by the falls, I heard Alder call from the trail above. His long legs and distance runner’s lungs were constantly carrying him two or three switchbacks ahead of me. Plus, I had to keep stopping to admire the flowers. Last spring break, my son … Read more
The only ice I welcome is silk-tasseled icicles falling, a shrubby catkin chandelier, spike-inflorescence waterfall of pollen-laden drips. Watch me sneeze and persist jostling, releasing more fine grains to the winds. No ice in the garden, a frost-light winter, an ice-heavy, ice-weary country. No ice in the garden, only Garrya elliptica, the coast silk-tassel, … Read more
Hung with sparkling white lights, the old Japanese maple presided over the garden as matriarch. Her limbs cast shade on the patio in the late afternoon. Her plum-colored leaves smoldered a romantic mood. Then, one day, we noticed die back. One limb gone, followed the next year by the entire tree. A small spurt of … Read more
There’s a field I walk weekly with my friend Jamie and our two reactive dogs. It’s filled with a succession of wildflowers. There’s something blooming nearly every month of the year. The dogs notice the shift in smells, their noses ever curious. Jamie and I are more visual, noting the blues and yellows … Read more
1. Is it a coincidence that July is full of yellow flowers? The golden sun is hot and high, saturating the days with radiance. Wildflowers and garden blooms respond in kind, echoing the open-hearted hue. Sticky-budded blooms of tarweed and gumweed open this month in the wild fields. Their resin reminds me of sweat … Read more
When my mom tells me that my favorite thing to draw as a little girl was rainbows, it sounds right. I do love color. All of it. Still. Looking at photos of past Junes to choose a plant of the month, I was confronted with an array of rainbow colors. This is a peak … Read more
I never thought of irises as a plant that pollinators would like. They don’t have brushy wands of pollen like a checkermallow or radiant disks of the stuff like a fleabane. Iris keeps her treasures secret, hidden behind rainbow-colored flags. The bees know how to find her secret nectar, though. They’re guided by the … Read more