I have seen rain this week, every day, off and on, all day long. My husband is grumpy, the dogs are grumpy and I am getting gardening stir crazy. But, the Firebush is very happy and flowering magnificently.
If anyone remembers James Taylor’s song Fire and Rain here’s a link, before you click on the link realize there is always advertising and I had nothing to do with it: James Taylor.
I decided a vintage copper teapot filled with warm colored flowers was necessary to lift my dreary spirits. After trimming some fiery flowers, I donned my red plastic raincoat and headed into the garden to see what I could find to join the Firebush. My greyhounds declined the offer to join me and sulked in their (sort of) dry beds.
My neighbor’s Mexican Flame Vine (Senecio confusus) long ago left its bounds and was hanging down over a hedge that grows between us. Beaten down from all the rain (myself, my husband,my dogs and the Mexican Flame Vine) I cut a few stems to drape over the side of the teapot. Then I discovered some Tropical Red Sage flowers (Salvia coccinea) for the back of the arrangement; added some Beach Sunflowers (Helianthus debilis); and found a few Parrotflowers (Heliconia psittacorum). I have been missing the Parrotflowers. Hurricane Irma followed by a mid thirties temperature in January nearly did them in. The few I found are about half the size they were last year. The flowers and foliage from the flourishing Firebush (Hamelia patens var patens) filled the framework of the flower arrangement. Say that 10 times fast.
Here is a close up of the flowers:
It is raining again. The good news is the Frangipani loves it and I have my first blooms this year.
As winter turns to spring in South Florida, I often wonder if fairies have been in my garden waving their wands to create magical flowers in my garden. Floral fireworks explode from green buds in magenta and orange, followed by apricot flowers painted with sage green tips; burgundy foliage reveals charteuse edges. Mother Nature and magic are the only things that explain this beauty.
The fairy standing sentry over the rock belonged to my mother and has resided in my garden since she left this world. The flowers are; in orange, Mexican Honeysuckle (Justicia spicigera); in the front of the arrangement, Soap Aloe (Aloe saponaria) with Solar Sunrise Coleus and Asparagus Fern foliage; the pink flowers are from our native Sunshine Mimosa backed by Alabama Coleus and a bit of Copper Fennel. The rock is another family piece and was covered in my blog yesterday, here is a link if you would like to read about it Heirloom Rocks .
This flower is the one that always brings fairies and wands to my mind. It is a Sunshine Mimosa (Mimosa stringillosa) a low groundcover perennial with ferny foliage and tiny pink mophead flowers with yellow (I think) pollen granules at their ends. Sunshine Mimosa slumbers in the garden until spring rains wake it up to send up stems of pink magic.
Wishing you Happy Spring Gardening and magical flowers this Monday.
My father was a geochemist. A Geology professor who taught for 35 years. Needless to say, he liked his rocks. When my parents were young and during summers he worked in the field and collected what he called ‘specimens’. Working primarily in North Georgia and sometimes North Carolina there were a lot of bits of granite around the house, some wonderful chunks of quartz and even some fossils.
My parents built a brick patio with their own labor and coerced my brothers into thinking pounding sand to firm the foundation was fun. They bought some Sears Roebuck ‘redwood’ chaise lounges, poured some Carlo Rossi, and proceeded to lounge. The collection of rocks was repurposed into a waterfall and fish pond for my mother. My father eventually collected so many rocks they formed an edging for my mother’s perennial garden around their patio.
This went on for years until my father retired from teaching; he still went out in the field, but rarely was able to carry the larger rocks home. I had the smaller specimens for my fish tank and potted plants, but not the bigger pieces; they stayed in my mother’s, the venerable Miss Betty, garden.
My father passed away suddenly at the age of 80 while I was on vacation. One of the first things I did upon returning home was to help my mother fix her waterfall. She poured Coca Cola into the copper line to unclog the concrete lady with the jug my father had placed to pour water into the pond. The lady was unclogged and the waterfall worked again; I spent more than one Saturday rearranging all those rocks so the waterfall didn’t leak. The waterfall’s health had declined along with my father’s. I finally got it fixed and my mother enjoyed it for several years before she passed away as well.
The task of getting the house ready to sell fell to me as Executor of the Estate. The inside was cleaned and painted, but the outside had to be faced eventually. Especially my parents garden and patio. They had spent countless hours in the backyard arguing about politics and discussing life. My siblings and I grew up and went our separate ways but always came back to the garden filled with the fruits of my parents labor. It was a bit of a dilemma for me to decide what to leave back there; I liked the rocks and waterfall as well. Eventually, I determined I should thin the rocks and leave the waterfall intact for the next owner as there was a certain spirit of the place contained in those stones and bricks my parents had so enjoyed in their backyard.
In my garden I have some of my father’s marble from his work in the Tate marble mines in North Georgia and some granite (always) and a few other specimens I can’t identify anymore. The one rock I will always keep is Miss Betty’s favorite rock. This particular rock is tan with a series of rings like a big cinnamon roll. I am sure I was told a hundred times what it was but this knowledge eludes me now. I tried to get another geologist to identify it after she passed, but all he could say was it was layers of something he couldn’t precisely identify. Maybe it is a metaphor for my parents’ life; many layers but now gone. I keep it in my Rain Garden where I pass it several times a day. I think my father would be pleased to know that particular rock is still being enjoyed.