In and Out of Fog, Sun and Shrubberies

Inside Top Garden Looking Out - Wisteria, Late Lilac, Viburnum plicatum facade

Outside Top Garden looking in - Viburnum plicatum

Viburnum plicatum

Viburnum floret suspended . . . unintended catch

Tree Peony

Female Baltimore Oriole and nest

Tree Swallow in nestbox

 Hawthorns Crataegus

Looking up towards Top Garden . . . Fading Lilac (brown now soon to be cut) Magnolia ever bloomer

Miss Kim Lilac over towards 'Three Graces' Crabapples and weeping Japanese Maple

Tree Wisteria (somewhat) looking over towards sad old shed

Tiger Swallowtail sipping from Korean Lilac

Tiger Swallowtail drinking the last of the Lilac nectar

Days become longer

through sun and rain fog remains

casting crystal globes

Blossoms unfurling

bright blazing heat and rainfall

painting bloom parade

Reaching for summer

busy birds and butterflies

life of a garden

Suspended in time

flowers and being are one

grateful for this way

'Anniversary Post' Birds in Review Part XV 'Living Bird Feeders'

 It was on a cold gray day . . . very much like this day . . . exactly two years ago . . .  I clicked 'Publish Post' and thus began this blog. This is my three hundred forty fourth post. You have honored me with six thousand two hundred sixty seven comments. I treasure each and every one of your thoughts, and all the dear people following Flower Hill Farm. Thank you for your continued support and the enduring inspiration you give through your gardens and words. 

In honor of becoming two years old, I have given my blog an additional page. Just under my header photo, you will see Flower Hill Farm Beginnings and I have just added Media Scrapbook. These pages give more history and meaning to the creative process and stewardship of my land and gardens. The offshoots that have formed into small modestly profitable enterprises . . .  in flower arranging, photography and a B&B Retreat . . . have allowed me the privilege of continuing to work with the land in creating this humble . . .  yet magical . . . garden and habitat . . . for wondrous wildlife and gracious guests from around the world. 

For the last thirty years, my life has truly been formed by the dirt on this hillside. It is hard to assimilate . . . to fully determine . . .  if I am creating the garden or if the garden is creating me and the way my life has unfolded. The land has been my muse . . . my guiding light giving me a sense of place . . . of connectedness to a deeply cultivated part of my being . . . ever entwining with the intricacies and marvels of the natural world surrounding me. It is my duty and responsibility to be a wise and caring steward.

So I step into year three of blogging with equal joy and excitement . . . with a deeper understanding of why I am sharing my stories and love of this land. Thank you so for sharing the journey with me. It is remarkable to me that I can scroll down my blog list or visit Blotanical or Best Garden Blogs and discover countless, incredible people sharing their love of nature . . . then enter your worlds with a simple click. Knowing you all . . .  has greatly enriched my life. You have given me hope . . . in times when it seemed there was little to hope for and inspiration when I most needed it. Gardeners the world over are pretty amazing folks! How lovely to connect across continents . . .  often without a common language and with many cultural differences . . .  which adds a richness to the tapestry . . .  through our woven threads of mutual respect and love of gardening and wildlife.

And now . . . without further ado . . . allow me to introduce a lavish living bird feeder - Sambucus racemosa L. Red Elderberry. Her fruit is off the charts in favorites for Grey Catbirds and Cedar Waxwings. The Catbirds are frequently flying over to this shrub in animated anticipation, as soon as the buds begin to swell.  A member of the Honeysuckle family, this Elderberry offers lovely, fluffy blooms in early spring.

The berries will disappear long before they might become red, for the Catbirds will work on the clusters at a frantic pace. I can never get a photo of the ripened fruit. The birds have planted a few other bushes around the gardens. I would love to have a hedgerow of them . . . then perhaps I might just get to see a few in their brilliant scarlet skin.  To have many more would allow other birds to enjoy them as well, for the Catbirds are very greedy, when it comes to Elderberry fruit.

 This little House Wren is not interested in the berries . . . unfortunately for the Chickadees . . .  he is eyeing their little nest within an old replaced light hole that was carelessly left uncovered. A pair of Chickadees have enjoyed raising their young in the tiny hole for years. The year featured here, they grieved the loss of their babies for the Wren would not allow them to live. Nature can be so hard to understand sometimes. 

Moving further south along the middle-terrace garden, a much beloved Magnolia stellata glows before a brightly lit Paper Birch. This dwarf variety is a lovely feature in this part of the garden. She is the first to bloom and is covered with a cloud of star-like, multi-petaled, snow-white blooms. Star Magnolia is another name often used when referring to this jewel of a tree. 

A light fine brush stroke of pale pink graces each thin petal. The whorl seems to dance around the center crown . . .  which holds a secret . . . beginning to form for feisty Flickers. There is a subtle sweetness lingering in the air around this unique and ancient flower. We are old friends, these twenty-five years, by now. A gift from Japan to these United States . . .  an offering of peace. I transplanted this Magnolia and her sister, all those years ago, from a lovely, neighboring plantswoman's garden. She had become overwhelmed with the size of her garden and was selling many small specimens like these. 

It is about this time of the stellata seed pod's growth Northern Flickers take notice. 

They flock to the small tree and literally shake the stellata up, while harvesting these oval, orange fruits. 

I saw a number of Flickers all over the Stellata last year and it was a startling sight, with sound effects as well . . . fluttering of wings against leaf! They were so quick and in such constant motion, that I could not capture any photos, but one. This beauty perches in the old apple, whose branches reach out towards the Magnolia stellata. It is rare for me to see the Flickers flocking in one tree this way. The fruit or seeds must be a tasty treat. The fact that I was lying in the hammock, trying to rest, made it all the more difficult to get any good photos. I had to pretend not to notice, so as not to frighten the Flickers off.

Fragrant and lanky English Hawthornes are lovely, spring-blooming trees. They are highly prized for their bountiful blossoms and generous crop of fruits in the summer and fall.  Cedar Waxwings are particularly delighted with the fruit of Crataegus L. English Hawthorne, also known as Haws and thorn-apple. 

I am using this Crabapple trunk to illustrate what goes on constantly along that of the white and pink Hawthornes. The immature Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (thanks Randy!)  loves to drill up and down the trunks of both trees belonging to the Rose family. After years of this, there does not seem to be any damage to the trees. I like to think that his beak work is a bit like tattoos, which so many seem to love these days. There is either sap or insects beneath the bark . . . inspiring this activity and offering nourishment for the woodpecker. 

Profuse blooms attract countless, small insects that then entice many birds to comb the flowers for food.

A Chipping Sparrow has found a snack. Sometimes the birds remind me of large flowers, for they are so often within the Hawthorne blossoms, as this little guy here.

Hundreds of Honeybees visit the unfurling florets. Standing beside the tree, you would think the entire hive were there due the extreme buzzing volume.

Now is the time for the Cedar Waxwings to fill the trees, fetching the medicinal fruits. The English Hawthorne is another non-native but with attributes aplenty. The tree can live up to 400 years, reaching 25 feet and spreading nearly that distance. A great beauty and a fabulous feeder, just be careful for the sharp thorns, for they prick and hurt! I marvel at how a plant or tree makes a conscious effort to create thorns for defense. Our plant world is over flowing with remarkable creatures.

Just to give you an update . . . a pair of Bluebirds came by this morning for their breakfast on the fly. So dear!! Have a lovely week. THANK YOU again for making my two years of blogging so rewarding and memorable. 

Lightness of Being Amongst Wings in a Garden

Swirls of wings in French Lilac petals and Tiger Swallowtail butterfly drinking and sipping the light and nectar. Lilac nectar must be delicious heated up.

Oh, luscious French Lilac time is fading . . .  as the light falls elsewhere on smaller more delicate later lilac blooms. These French dripping blooms have been wonderful for so long due to the cooler spring days and frosty nights. Please imagine gently caressing this cluster, while inhaling it's perfume. Utter Joy!

Fully lit and fully blooming Lilacs and Viburnums create delicious air compositions.

Lilac topiary . . . one of several . . . blooms profusely this year.

Now it is time for the Dwarf Korean Lilacs . . .  Miss Kim's delicate florets and fragrance are bathed in light. Her colors are lovely juxtaposed with the striking dwarf Japanese 'Weeping' Maple nearby.

Along the edge of the Crabapple Orchard another dwarf variety or 'Fairy-tale' series aptly named 'Sugar Plum Fairy' begins to open amidst the dappled morning light. Later on the Tree Hydrangea . . .  to her left . . . will be in the spotlight. I must get the foot of the trees de-bishop weeded! 

The Bluebird, English Hawthorns and Japanese Maples all reflect and inhale the dawning light.

Looking through the sun filled English Hawthorn blooms . . . towards the freshly lit Rock Maples and balcony. Now these blooms are spilling their signature fragrance into the gardens.

Here there are many verticals at play in the sunlight. In the case of the apples . . .  the light etches around the limbs and trunks. The Peonies will need staking very soon. Pigments of green absorbing light! Chlorophyll to photosynthesis . . .  a garden is such a laboratory!

Unfurling sunlit leaves of Amsonia begin to reveal or unwrap their gift of starry flowers. They are drenched in early day light . . . every cell must be elated and gulping it in.

Fleeting colors flit through the 'Miss Canada' Lilac shrubs as light dances all around.

Sighting of a male Chestnut-sided Warbler just outside my open window!

His colorful plumes reflect and absorb the light . . . he puffs up to allow the heat within or to keep the coolness of the early morning air out . . . perhaps both. Then again it could be to frighten me!

Here in dappled light near the rock garden . . . I found a female peering around.

When she sensed she was being watched too . . . Oh, how she stretched into that moment of panic! How different they can look! Just like people, when in different moods. Note that she does not have the fullness to her chestnut brown color . . . nor the wide black band by the eyes that her partner has. There are so many warblers returning now and their songs fill the garden, fields and woodland air. I can hear the lovely melody of the Wood Thrush, as I write and see both male and female American Redstarts darting about. The Baltimore Orioles are weaving their nest in the same spot as last year. I can see them flying to and from the native Black Cherry branch while looking at my computer screen . . . well a glance to the left of my screen. I can type without looking at my screen . . . a wonder! A Wild Turkey is just outside . . . I am not leaping up to take it's photo . . . often I see both a male and a female walking around . . . dining on ticks I hope! She is stretching her neck in alarm too . . . poor things . . .  to always have to be on guard.  Here comes a Catbird with a rather large blade of dried something or other for it's nest just across the way in the rose bush. It is quite busy around here with the Tree Swallows dancing in the air and all the birds calling, singing and gathering materials for nesting. 

A magical time of renewal . . . I feel so lucky to be able to witness these returning rituals of light, blooms, plumes, songs and butterflies. That others the world over are merely surviving or struggling in very horrid and difficult situations never escapes my memory. I am very thankful indeed and hope that by sharing this way I may add some joy to other lives . . . to inspire others, as well, to want to be in nature. I call Congress too, but know I should do more towards working for justice.  For fellow gardeners I happily share and enjoy visiting your bountiful and beautiful gardens . . . for we are all so blessed to be able to grow . . . to create our own paradises. To bring our gardens into a virtual world and fly from New England to India, Sweden, England or countless other countries and states within my own in few moments via images and words is another wonder. I am ever thankful for my blogging community!