Thursday, June 4, 2009

But all my life--sofar-- I have loved best how the flowers rise and open, ~ Mary Oliver

Thou didst not know, who tottered, wandering on high,

That fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind,

With those great careless wings,

Nor yet did I.

~ Robert Frost

There is so much blooming now. I want to record it all but not in just one posting.

A couple years ago I purchased a few small clematis at Home Depot for a ridiculously low price--something like $3.50 each. It was a whim, I wanted to try growing them on roses. Unfortunately that doesn't work well in northern Illinois. In the spring, when the super hardy clematis is up and blooming, northern roses are only about two feet tall. Not a good paring. This poor blue climber puddles at the feet of Austin rose Abe Darby. It looks well enough just winding along the ground among the other plants. Every now and then a blue patch appears at the feet of a lily or a foxglove.

I was really taken with photos of a tall bearded iris named GnusFlash. It's a black and white striped iris, very striking. Anyway I purchased Gnusflash and got this. It's lavender where the real GF is white and white where it should be black. Oh well;)

This is iris time, yellow, powder blue, lavender, pink, white and black. The view from any window features their fluttering silken petticoats.

I can't walk out of a garden center empty handed. Another whim and something I didn't need--but it was so pretty. How could anyone turn away from a silver leaved, pink flowered little charmer like this lamium Pink Pewter? (Funny, those were almost exactly the same words I used on my mother as a child when I came home with another stray dog.)

Below old faithful Superstition iris and a pink self seeded columbine. Superstition was the first iris I added to my garden almost 20-years ago when I moved here.

Too green the springing April grass,
Too blue the silver-speckled sky,

For me to linger here, alas,

While happy winds go laughing by,

Wasting the golden hours indoors,

Washing windows and scrubbing floors.

Too wonderful the April night,

Too faintly sweet the first May flowers,

The stars too gloriously bright,

For me to spend the evening hours,

When fields are fresh and streams are leaping,

Wearied, exhausted, dully sleeping.
~ Claude McKay