Design flaws

When the Sanctuary Natives guy replaced the ailing ninebark, he took a look around the yard to see how things were doing. He was a bit surprised to see that the 'October Skies' aromatic aster in one bed now has a baby brother growing next to it; he didn't think that would happen. Now that the weather has cooled and I have been handweeding, I see that the aromatic asters are rampantly reseeding themselves. Argh! An online search validates my findings, with the recommendation that one prune the plants once the blossoms are done.

Two of the asters apparently don't get enough light and splay instead of growing more upright - the better to spread their seeds. I wrapped a bit of hardware cloth around them to prop them up (now they are shaped like sheafs of wheat), but I'm considering replacing them. (BTW, the blossoms of the aromatic aster are not aromatic; instead, its the leaves, which smelled wonderful while I was wrestling the plants into their new confines.)

BUT I feel bad about altering the landscape design. Or I did, until I read this article in the New York Times about the High Line in NYC. Piet Oudolf designed the High Line, but after fifteen years, plants grow - and outgrow their space. Ten horticulturists care for this urban oasis, trying to maintain the original vision as much as possible, but adjusting where needed.

Which brings me back to my yard. I'm allowed to make adjustments of my own when something is not working out. I will try to do it carefully and deliberately, instead of willy-nilly like I have in the past. Besides those two asters, the hairy beardtongue is not very happy in its somewhat shady location, so maybe I will move that and find a replacement. The status of the butterflyweed is also questionable; I've never had much luck with it.

The bluebird parents are busy feeding their young. A (presumably male) wren keeps singing up a storm around the wren box in the backyard, while I don't think anyone has taken up residence in the one in the front yard.

We've had rain (yay!) and cooler temps, so I've been working away on the weeds. Better get back at that chore while the weather holds.

Under the (heat) dome

The past week has been HOT. It's not so bad when there is a breeze or when there is a cloud cover. But when there is sun and no breeze? Ugh. And HUMID. And DRY - no rain. Tomorrow's high should be 80, which will feel chilly. There may be rain, which would be a relief.

My day used to start with coffee and news, breakfast, then dog walking. Then it shifted to coffee and news, dog walking, then breakfast. This past week each day started with a token dog walk, then coffee and news, then breakfast. Once we reach the driveway, Clio turns to go in because she is DONE.

I'm still a bit flummoxed about how few bugs there are this year. The bee balm is now blooming, which is attracting bees, naturally, but not as many as other years. I wonder if our crazy weather has thrown Mother Nature into disarray. Maybe that is why the robins did not eat the serviceberries this year - bad timing.

The coneflower I planted last spring is blooming, and so tall I can't see the rudbeckia behind it. Goldfinch love the coneflower seeds; we'll see if they show up. I'm losing faith in what's "normal" in the backyard gardening world.

I'm behind in weed control while I've been busy watering all the newbies (and a few oldies). Speaking of which, I'd better get to that right now.

Word of the day: foliaceous

I've complained here about how my native plants are not very showy. By that I mean that there isn't much color besides green, green, green. It turns out that green is not green is not green. There are shades of green and textures and shapes that, when combined, create interest.

Foliaceous means resembling or pertaining to leaves. Mother Nature is very foliaceous. (Photo by my daughter while we kayaked at Chain o' Lakes State Park.)

And so is my yard. You just have to look with fresh eyes.

I finished transplanting the seedlings. Well, sort of. Some Profusion zinnias went in empty spots in the beds in the front yard, some volunteer zinnias moved from a container to the coneflower bed, a dozen or so Profusion zinnias went into the containers, the amaranth is now in a bare area on the south side of the house, and the leftover Profusion zinnias are now in a bed along the driveway at my SO's house. All that remains are the wild strawberry and wild petunia seeds in the refrigerator that I have been ignoring.

Two of the 'Amber Jubilee' ninebark were replaced this week, as they were more than half dead. They never developed roots. It's a mystery why one is doing fine but two did not.

My neighbor's lawn treatment guy has been a bit too generous with the pellets he spews about. Enough landed under the 'Perfect Purple' flowering crab to kill one catmint and seriously damage two others. I talked to the neighbor and she talked to the lawn treatment company, but I decided to be proactive and protect the replacements. (Said replacements had been in a container, transplanted to the coneflower bed where they were seriously overshadowed, so they are happier now under the crab.)

It sounds like the baby wrens have flown the nest, while a new (or same?) pair of bluebirds is inhabiting the bluebird house. The coneflower is starting to bloom, which means it is summer. The weather certainly says so. We've had some delightful days, but a heat wave is on its way. All I have to do at this point is keep all the newbies watered.

It's a goose parade!

While walking the dog the other day, I witnessed this multi-family gaggle of geese marching down to the neighborhood pond. There are at least 25 of them, maybe three sets of parents. This is something Canada geese do after hatching their brood - they combine families, the better to protect them.

The butterfly weed is starting to bloom. I'm keeping an eye on the plants to see if any caterpillars start munching on them. They need to get more fully established before becoming a food source. Not that I've seen many butterflies so far this year.

After my kvetching about the lack of wildlife in my yard, the other day I spotted the first hummingbird of the season amongst the penstemon. And I've seen goldfinch as well. If the robins don't eat the serviceberry, though, I'm going to harvest it myself.

What's that noise?!?

On our way back from a quick trip to Milwaukee, we stopped at the Chicago Botanical Gardens. The parking lots are surrounded by trees which are full of Brood XIII cicadas. And they are LOUD. Inside the gardens themselves, things were relatively calm, although some shrubs and small trees were covered with netting, presumably to protect them from the cicadas.

The previous time we were at the CBG, I came home all excited about the experience. Now - meh. It's not the gardens' fault. I think my interest in expanding my garden exposure has abated. My own yard is enough.

Despite my efforts to attract the birds and bees, there isn't much wildlife activity in my yard. The serviceberry fruit is abundant and dark purple, but the robins don't seem interested. There is no fruit on the chokeberry shrubs, probably because they bloomed too early for the pollinators. Despite the honeysuckle vine and penstemon blooming, no hummingbirds have appeared yet, although it is a bit early. And the bee population seems lower this summer.

The winterberry holly is blooming, but one might not notice it as the blossoms are so small. Last year the bushes next to the house produced no fruit. I have both male and female plants; I wonder if it is a pollinator problem.

At least the wren box sounds like it is full of (noisy) babies.

My house has lost power twice in recent weeks, once from a squirrel in a transformer, today from something else. I've been getting estimates for a whole house backup generator. Holy cow - are they expensive! I like the idea of having automatic backup, but the price is giving me pause. I will get one more quote, then decide.