I swing between elation and despondency upon returning from an absence to be confronted by a garden that obviously carried on beautifully while I was away.
Bravo, everyone is alive and thriving vs. sniffle, I am clearly superfluous.
As usual, I overstate the case just a bit. I was away for only a week, and rain arrived while I was gone. Never a threat of frost. A garden that couldn’t survive for a week in such cushy conditions is less a garden and more an intensive care unit for plants.
But still, it is surprising how quickly my tenuous ownership of the garden cedes to other creatures, like this guy cheekily casting his web now in high-traffic areas.
And what on earth was making those strange snuffling sounds in the creeping fig-covered wall?
No doubt animals who had taken up residence in my absence and were now beating a hasty retreat upon my return. Yes, that must be what it is.
A red-tailed hawk landed in one of the garden’s trees this morning. Never has this happened before. Evie the white cat must have been under raptor surveillance while I was away.
Unseen tempests caused cannas to crash and Solanum pyracantha and golden tansy to cling to each other for support.
Echium gentianoides ‘Tajinaste’ opened its first flowers with no one to pay the slightest attention to this momentous event.
(If a flower blooms in a garden, and no one is around to see it, is it still a garden? Hmmm…)
The “end of times” rain we had, as the son who remained behind for classes described it, scrubbed the agaves clean of the accumulated grit of summer.
Velvety Agave attenuata ‘Kara’s Stripes’ (who I’ve mistakenly referred to on the blog as’ Kara’s Choice.’)
The medio-picta agave was due for some rainy spa treatment after a recent pruning for work on the house.
‘Yellow Gem’ anigozanthos hoisted five flower scapes.
Which prompted me to appreciate the inadvertently brilliant choice of planting the orangey-gold Libertia peregrinans at the kangaroo paws’ base.
(Which prompted me to race to the nursery and buy another pot of libertia to emphasize this newly intentional pairing.)
The oddity from the pea family, Amicia zygomeris, planted a couple weeks ago, put on lots of fresh growth.
The ‘Campfire’ crassula burst into bloom, but what happened to the smoldering leaves?
The trailing crassula, C. sarmentosa, suspended from a height of 4 feet, is nearly touching the ground.
So nice of you all to carry on without me. (But how dare you!)