Tuesday, August 26, 2014

9 AM

I'd rather stay home





















And meditate





















On the wonders of editing.





















7 PM. I went to work of course.





















An hour or so of gazing and wandering ever so slow twice a day is pretty good.





















I can sit for a while down on the Great Lawn in the cool of the evening and gaze up.





















I saw the tiny hole and buzzing swarm after the last mowing and thought, should I spray the hornet nest before the sisters arrive? No. It won't last long. In less than two days some varmint dug it up and ate the whole thing. That hole was all nest just below a thin covering of grass.





















The garden is truly buzzing now.


Monday, August 25, 2014

Seen In A Meadow

Fresh Butterflies





















And their dark mates.





















The Great Blue Lobelia





















And Green Headed Coneflowers





















White grasses with White Snakeroot





















And Solomon's Seal


Sunday, August 24, 2014

My Imagination Made Real

I weed whacked all the paths, I mean all of them, the Great Lawn and then some in the wild cultivated gardens today. I want them to look good and be traversable when the sisters arrive next weekend. The gardens are show ready again.





















Making sure the gardens look good is far more important than making sure the house is clean. I expect them to start spending a lot more time up here one day and wouldn't want the wildness to scare them off. A filthy house won't scare them, particularly Sister #2.





















I might also be trying to wow the niece and her boyfriend that are coming along. You never know what if any kind of relationship young people have with the 'aina. Between the floral explosion in the wild cultivated gardens and the fresh produce from the roadside vegetable garden they will be eating all week, I hope to make an impression. That certainly can't hurt.





















I kept stopping and staring while I was mowing. Am I really seeing what I think I am?





















Ever since I was a wee baby gardener fresh out of college I have dreamed of creating a garden like this. Nature was always my inspiration. Some where along the way the idea of a garden full of wild flowers got lodged in my head. It very well could have been caused by a trip to these mountains as a child.





















It only took twenty seven years, but I think I have finally done it. I have a garden full of wild flowers that tower over my head.





















I didn't imagine that part. I assumed they would be shorter.





















But it is pretty amazing when you walk the mowed paths down there in the Lush and are swallowed inside of a living bouquet. I can live with that.





















All it took was being in the right place with the right raw materials.





















I certainly had fun with all the outrageous looking tropical flowers on Maui for twenty years. There were next to no herbaceous wild flowers though. I went looking. There is even photographic evidence of me collecting seed of the few there were. And before I left I made every effort to distribute as many Zephyranthes lilies as I could knowing full well they would self sow and bloom where they got enough water.

I wish I could grow them up here on this mountain. I miss my Rain Lilies. I have tried. They died a frosty death no doubt.





















There is more than enough to keep me occupied though and plenty of bulbs that will grow here just fine. I should get some colchicums. They look a bit like zephyranthes in bloom.





















I think the sisters will be arriving at just the right time for an amazing peak bloom in the tall flower meadow. It's a bit early for some of the mums and asters. There is so much more yet to come. I don't think they will be missed when there is so much else to see.





















There will be even more in the years to come. I added four new flowering perennials, that I can remember at the moment, out there in the Lush in just the last two months.





















Nature of course is always adding to things as I edit out the unwanted and create open space that needs filling.





















All the while I am paying attention to who has the stamina to compete successfully in the tall flower meadow. There are winners and losers.



























The garden paths are mowed and ready. The dung piles are artfully covered with pumpkins and squash. I suppose I'll clean my house a bit before they get here. I have to. The clean sister is staying with me.





















Seven years ago a little house on the mountain surrounded by wild flowers was only in my imagination. It has been made real.


Saturday, August 23, 2014

I Went To Asheville

For the two day Speaking of Gardening seminar at the NC Arboretum.





















There was a full schedule of speakers on a lot of interesting and plant lust inducing topics. Jenks Farmer was one of them. I bought his new book which I doubt I will get to reading until the snow starts falling. I resisted buying any plants. It was tough. I now also have a whole list of gardens to visit in Columbia, SC next time I drive through which happens every year.

I will not be growing any cold hardy cacti and succulents in pots that can be left out in the winter. I will not. I will not do it. I will not. At least I don't think I will. They might look good on the basement patio when I get that done. Thanks a lot Panayoti Kelaidis.





















They kept us busy so there wasn't a whole lot of time to tour the Arboretum's gardens. Then at the end of day one I headed to Fairegarden East due to a plea to yank the dreaded Asian invasion, Clematis terniflora, the near identical cousin of my native clematis nemesis, before it was to late. It appears that I have an Asheville job for a bit while Fairegarden shuffles her life around.





















Then on day two I slipped away for a spell to go to Wamboldtopia's open garden day and blowout art sale.





















Wamboldtopia is for sale. There is no way of knowing how much longer I will be able to visit. I go when the chance arises.



























It is still a magical and ever changing tapestry of art and garden.





















Quite a bit of the art that is Wamboldtopia will stay with the buyer. It can't really be moved or sold. If you want a Bathtub Angel you will have to make your own.



























My favorite little Anti Gnomes always make me chuckle inside.





















It was a quick visit then back to the Arboretum for the rest of the seminar.





















Back home in the wilderness a tall flower meadow has been gaining more color.





















I did not resist buying some of Damaris' art. Several pieces of Wamboldtopia's mana came home to Ku'ulei A'ina.





















Which is looking incredible right now.





















And there is still so much more left to bloom.





















So many other gardens are winding down. Mine is still aiming towards the end of season blowout.





















It's not like I planned to have the really big show at the end of summer and into the fall.



























Nature had a big say in the matter.





















I didn't resist. It's more like I am an enabler.





















I stand on the front porch and gaze over this kaleidoscope of color in awe. Some how I made this happen. The unedited section at the lower boundary line is still completely green.

And I am not done editing.


Thursday, August 21, 2014

As I Wander

When the weather permits I walk next door to supper. I never walk fast. I amble. I try to leave a few minutes early since I move so slow. Not that it matters. Dinner will still be there when I arrive.





















The Southern Harebell, Campanula divaricata has finally appeared. I have been looking for months, not remembering when it bloomed. This is a rare native wild flower in that there are only two or three of them that I have found and they do not appear to multiply with any vigor.

You have to walk slow to find some things.





















Going back home I don't move any faster. As the light grows softer and the colors intensify, I start to see jungle foliage through the eyes of Henri Rousseau.





















I see a humble abode through the older eyes of Claude Monet.





















I can't draw worth a toot, but that idea still comes. I should at least try. Is there a painting in me trying to get out?





















There is a quiet moment in the roadside bed when the flowers are few and the texture of the grasses dominate. In quiet moments I dream of other things.