Photo courtesy Flickr
One of the joys of having a rustic backyard retreat is the thirty-second commute. The other joy is the deep bathtub at the other end of the path.
When life is going smoothly, I enjoy the prospect of passing two uninterrupted days visiting my green friends outside the house. Before I shifted the landscape to native species, spending time in the garden was a matter of volunteering for yet more hours of housework, but colder, wetter, and dirtier. Since I gave the land back to its rightful owners, it has given more back to me.
In the last week, I have noticed that the native plants are growing more gracefully than the imports. The weather has been unusual, but it always seems to be unusual, and so far those plants are taking it in stride. It’s been especially cool and wet, and the native ferns, conifers, rhododendrons, and elderberry have grown lush to the point of looking tropical. Low temperatures have protected them from growing too fast and becoming fragile in the process.
Imported ornamentals like lilies and old roses on grafted rootstocks are looking wan, and this season may give me just the excuse I need to find new homes for those relics of my English gardening phase.
-30- More after the jump.