Early light

A fall morning

The early light cuts through the mist.

It's almost as if a window in heaven has opened

to give us a glimpse of the glory.

One for the bugs, one for the weather, and one for YOU!

A good gardener always plants 3 seeds - 

one for the bugs, one for the weather and one for himself.

- Leo Aikman

I have seeds for the bugs, the weather, and for you!

The seed pods on the moonflower vine (ipomoea alba) are plentiful and I want to share.

I harvested the first seeds from the moonflower vine in November with my grandchildren.  

(See my post about that on my other blog here.)  

Those seeds are stored and waiting for Spring to arrive and the earth to warm - but there are yet more to harvest!  Would you like some? 

  The moonflower vine, which is in the Morning Glory family, is an annual where I live in zone 7.  I grew it for the first time last summer, expecting it to grow in a pot with a trellis on my deck.   I nicked the seeds with a sharp knife and soaked them overnight before planting them and they quickly germinated.  (Because Moonflower Vine waits for hot weather to perform, there's no benefit to starting them early indoors.)  Once started, the vine took off, quickly outgrowing its pot and modest trellis.  I moved it to the foot of the birdhouse post, where I could see the blooms in the evening from my deck.

This vine will cover an arbor, a large trellis, a fence or any other similar structure.  The blooms last only a single night but are profuse, beautiful, and fragrant.

Moonflower Vine is hardy in zones 9 - 11 and may even be invasive.  But if you live in a cooler zone as I do, it can be treated as an annual for summer beauty.  It likes well-drained soil and full sun.

If you would like to share in my bounty of seeds, leave me a comment saying so and I'll put your name in the straw hat for a drawing a week from today.  I'll announce the winners in another post.

Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has

been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed

there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.

- Henry David Thoreau

"An aspect tenderly illumed"

Departing summer hath assumed

An aspect tenderly illumed,

The gentlest look of spring;

That calls from yonder leafy shade

Unfaded, yet prepared to fade,

A timely carolling.

- William Wordsworth, September

I came home from work Friday evening and walked around the garden, thinking of all the chores I had planned for the weekend.  I had my camera in hand, thinking I might take a picture or two of flowers or plants that haven't been totally disfigured by whatever is eating holes in so many leaves.  But what I wanted to capture on film wasn't a plant, it was the light.   The late afternnon light has begun to change as September approaches.  It makes me feel peaceful and wistful and sentimental.  Though, it's not something the camera can adequately record, the light is what I tried to photograph - 

I especially love the way the light filters through the trees.

Mums are budding - I should be seeing blooms soon.

These dogwood leaves have already turned - maybe the dogwood is as eager for autumn as I am.

The lone coreopsis bloom.  I'm hoping for another flush of blooms before they fade away.

The zinnias are standing tall.   I sowed some seeds late and the birds are eating the blooms even before they open.   (Notice the light through the trees in the background.)

The sun had almost set when I  took this picture, but I couldn't resist taking a picture of the moonflower blooms.

The temperature won't feel a thing like fall this week - the forecast calls for temperatures in the upper 90s with no rain.  But September will be here and cool, crisp air can't be too far in the future!

Dog days

According to Wikipedia, "Dog Days were popularly believed to be an evil time "when the seas boiled, wine turned sour, dogs grew mad, and all creatures became languid, causing to man burning fevers, hysterics, and phrensies" according to Brady’s Clavis Calendarium, 1813. [1]"
It has felt hot enough for the seas to boil and wine certainly would have turned sour had we left it out in the heat.  I have been languid, but I have avoided hysterics.

Last week, while out in the early evening to mow while I weeded and watered,  my husband spotted a dog day cicada nymph.  These are not pretty, but they are amazing.

 Fortunately, there are still plenty of pretty blooms in the garden, despite the record high temperatures.

And each morning when my husband and I go out for our early morning walk, we're reminded that the days are getting shorter and summer will soon be waning.

The first blooms on the moonflower vine opened this week.

I started this from seed in a large container (with a trellis) on my porch, but it became obvious that it needed more room to grow, so I put it in the ground by the birdhouse.  Now it can grow up the birdhouse post.

The Sienna Sunset Coreopsis and the Fireworks Clematis are both blooming again, though this second round of Clematis blooms are smaller than the first.

The Summerlong Basil, the Pentas, and the Tricolor Sedum are all doing well in the summer heat.  

We enjoyed some of the basil in a pasta sauce for dinner tonight.

I'm looking forward to an evening cool enough to sit outside and smell the fragrance of those moonflower blooms!