Whites Continuing to Shimmer Throughout A Sweltering July

Bid farewell to July with a stroll through the gardens still shimmering in white . . . more mature blooms . . . some nearly fading . . . the buzz, broods, trills and furls relaxing into August along the fringe of summer. July passed with days of torrid, sultry heat. Amazingly I withstood it all and each day went about the gardens and fields, during the hottest hours, in search of butterflies, discovering new species to add to my list.

As the Bluebird couple's second brood continues to grow within the nestbox, hydrangeas swell into soft, full panicles attracting bees and butterflies alike. In the background the flowers of Japanese Tree Lilac are fading. Yucca filamentosa L. is beginning to ring its waxy bells with the other shimmering whites.

Gooseneck loosestrife Lysimachia clethroides, in the middle garden is a favorite white of many butterflies.

Aphrodite Fritillary . . .  a frequent visitor to the white patch of tapered starry panicles. 

Very unusual here to see a Little Wood Satyr sipping nectar in the gardens. They are mostly sighted skipping around low to the ground. 

Numerous sorts of Skippers are seen flying and nectaring within the gooseneck raceme. In the eight by ten feet, or so, swath of flowers, just in front of the Bluebird nestbox, there might be up to 40 or 50 tiny butterflies darting about. Comical interplay abounds.

Here a Pearl Crescent, also in some numbers, approaches a content Skipper . . . a chase follows. Butterflies can be very territorial or could this little butterfly be thinking the Skipper is one of her/his own.

Days become weeks with the stifling heat blowing open silky petals of snowy white. 

The Hydrangea paniculata 'Swan' graces the middle garden just behind the nestbox.

Large heavy snowballs fall within this old fashion favorite. 

A Cimicifuga 'Candelabra' catches the light in the upper garden.

Earlier July

End of July

'The Swan'

Among the globulous buds of Cimcifuga, a Summer Azure comes in for a landing.

Birds are going for the Viburnum berries which are spilling over into the white pom-pom-like blossoms of Hydrangea.

Tree Hydrangea inflorescence begins with a chartreuse hue. 

Looking down towards the lower garden another Hydrangea paniculata is still offering a show . . . now in full white display. 

A Greater Spangled Fritillary harvesting Hydrangea nectar.

Milkweed's bouncy, bountiful and beautifully fragrant orbs have come and gone with not one sighting of a Monarch butterfly.

A Common Whitetail dragonfly rests on the birdbath. 

Meadowsweet offers tall, white, flame-like plumes up nearer the farmhouse and studios. 

My first ever Baltimore Checkerspot! Gorgeous crescent moons and other patterns on its wings. After a champagne lunch, my dear friend and bubbly cohort, Eva, and I took a walk about the gardens and there it was, a good twenty feet away from us, just resting in an overgrown section of the north field! I will be writing about this butterfly and other unusual guests in a later piece.

For now, Happy August! The days cannot get any hotter (I hope!) but the garden colors can.

Recalling Landscape Tapestries of Summer Twenty-Twelve

While many are shoveling out from deep blankets of snow-drifts, I would like to escape our white wintry hillside by recalling landscape tapestries of summer twenty-twelve. Storms of blossoms unfurl throughout the spring and summer here at Flower Hill Farm attracting pollinators, birds and other beasts to our gardens, fields and forest. It is this living tapestry of color, texture, fragrance and sounds that inspired me to create this blog four years ago . . . February 6, 2009.

Over the last four years I feel I have grown as a photographer, writer and gardener from sharing the virtual world of gardens and nature with all of you. Lovely and brilliant fellow blogger Sarah of Sarah Laurence.com expressed it so perfectly in her sixth anniversary post when she wrote . . .  "What I see, I want to share with you. I do not walk alone in the snowy fields thanks to your company."

It is a joy to see the snowy fields of Maine through Sarah's eyes, as it is to see the opulent world of fellow bloggers and now dearest of friends Jane and Lance of the acclaimed Hattatt Budapest and Brighton blog. Blogging builds bridges to worlds we might never have known. It connects kindred spirits and activists for wildlife and I am so honored to know and be a co-author with so many talented gardeners and photographers on Carole Sevilla Brown's Native Plants and Wildlife Gardens blog and Ken Billington's  Focusing on Wildlife blog. I have just published the fifteenth installment of 'A Bestiary' which is a compilation of many tales regarding the wildlife that share Flower Hill Farm.

I want especially to thank all those of you who continue to visit and grace this blog with your thoughtful words even though I am not able to reciprocate as I once did. To gracious Eva, who has been with me since the beginning, who has no blog or link to share, please know that I am so deeply appreciative of your words of wisdom and endless support that always touches me to the core and inspire so much more.

The riot of life in these image memories is in such contrast to the cold and raw world that actually barricades me inside right now. I do have one door that opens inside but would have to trek through hip high drifts to get to other doors to shovel . . . and shoveling is not something I can do anymore either. Someone will arrive today or tomorrow to clear doorways and pathways, as well as, uncovering my little car. Having this medium to reach out to the world is fabulous anytime, but now, being literally 'snowed in', I appreciate it all the more. I am so grateful for not losing power and feel so for those who have. May it be restored quickly.

MANY THANKS TO YOU ALL! 

Mid July Garden Walkabout Warm To Cool Temperature in Color

Here in Western Massachusetts the horrid heat wave has finally fizzled out. 

Kinder weather patterns bring lighter, more clement days and crisp nights, but we truly need rain. 

I do so prefer intensity in colors rather than extreme temperatures on a thermometer. 

Here there are vivid, hot colors, from varying flower forms of sizzling Hemerocallis, 

found floriferous and in fine fettle within the July 'middle meadow garden.' 

A quick look back and in the opposite direction both in time and landscape . . . just for fun . . . to the cool colors of late May and early June in the 'middle meadow garden'.

Once again in Mid July surrounded by hot oranges and reds.

The tall sleek stems of this warm daylily stretch upwards towards six feet in height.
A bluebird house stands empty and quiet in the background and sadly, the gardener must report . . .
 she missed the virgin flight of the fledglings yet again.

Certainly a chorus of joy to our earth . . . if only we could hear the songs.

A parade of beauty lasting only one day.
Each sunrise swells open fresh . . . pure in intense colors . . . corollas designed and destined to collapse by sunset.

Stepping down towards our oldest apple tree and the lower garden . . . serene greens, softer yellows and washed-out-whites await. 

Looking up through the apple tree archway from the blueberry field. 

I am carrying water over to the 'lower garden' for this stressed Hydrangea and find it amazing how quickly the leaves perk up from the drink.

Walking into the north garden the scent of basil drifts amongst pure white panicles of Hydrangea paniculata, 'The Swan'.

Cimicifuga racemosa stands along side delicate clusters of another nameless Hydrangea. When standing next to 'no name', it sounds as if an entire beehive is visiting. Speaking of sound . . . I love the hisses which are formed when pronouncing Cimicifuga. Sometimes I just wish genera could stay the same . . . now black bugbane, black cohosh or black snakeroot . . . take your pick for a common name . . .  is scientifically labeled Actaea racemosa.

The ever faithful smooth Hydrangea arborescens 'Annabelle' or 'Grandiflora' sumptuously falling over . . . 

mingling among berried boughs of Viburnum.
Numerous birds are mingling within the red berries too.
Now that the blueberries are nearly finished . . . these Viburnum berries are a real hot item in the garden.

My heart goes out to all those who are suffering terribly from severe drought . . . it is bad here but nothing like other parts of our country and the world at large.
May rain soon fall . . .  for us all . . . steady and softly . . .  for several days with sunny day breaks . . .  throughout the season.

Lastly, I leave you with some fresh and faded oranges that float about the gardens these days.
Monarchs offer another warm color to the landscape and teeny intricately crafted eggs to our milkweed plants.
The second butterfly image is proof that the toxic cardenolides within milkweed do not always protect Monarchs from preying birds.
I have nearly thirty jewel-like chrysalises hanging about my studio and look forward to sharing this years magical metamorphosis with you.

The earth sighs as Greenland falls into the ocean . . . our world's soul dreams for our awakening and action for change . . . in our daily lives and beyond.
Do our legislators know our names . . . our ideas and demands?
Why not let them hear our voices on a weekly basis.
Let's unite our voices as a chorus for our earth.