Archive for the 'garden snapshots' category
Big, Fabulous, Gay Flowers!
4:37 pmI got to my garden this morning after yet MORE rain, and found that my tree peony, a gift from my dear friend and former roomie, Chuck, was OUT and in full bloom:
Now, I have to admit, I am a fool for peonies. They look like big, slutty, drunken, over-the-hill roses. They have none of your typical rose’s pretensions. They don’t act all dainty and demure. They don’t pretend to have too much class. They’re like your fun, crazy aunt. The one who spiked your drinks at holiday parties when you were twelve.
And the ones in my garden are as big as your head. They’re freakishly huge for the size of the plant itself. It’s a tree peony, so eventually the tree will catch up to the size of the blossom, but for now it has to be spiked. It’s got two more big blossoms about to pop, and the limbs aren’t yet big enough or strong enough to support the weight.
Talk about big-headed and acting all demure. All my neighbor’s poppies, and the ones that have sneaked under the fence, are doing their best to pretend like they aren’t about to burst into absolute fabulousness any minute now:
They look humble here, but they’re just pretending. You’ll see.
The Fenway was buzzing with activity this morning. Everyone was out taking care of business. In the last two weeks I think I’ve had maybe two opportunities to get out and garden. The good news is that aside from some scattered thunderstorms tomorrow it looks like next week is going to be gorgeous.
5/20/06
after the flood
7:05 pm
I stopped by the garden yesterday afternoon. It had not yet cleared up, but the rain had dissipated to a drizzle. The plants that are in bloom have definitely taken a beating, but all those yet to bloom are going great guns.
Unfortunately, thanks to the deluge, I have not been able to enjoy my lilacs at all, and the blooms are fading now. But my bleeding hearts have just started dripping off their vines. My neighbor’s were out two weeks ago–either his were early, or mine are…well, let’s say they’re right on time.
My poppies (which have happily migrated from my neighbor’s plot) are plump and look about ready to pop:
And the grass is coming in nicely, if still a bit spotty at this point. Here’s three views of the part of the plot that’s been seeded:
I’m very pleased, though there’s a lot to be done yet. The thing you have to realize is that the plot looked like this when I got it around this time last year:
So, I think I’ve come a ways.
5/16/06
baby grass update #3
5:12 am5/9/06
It’s getting downright lush down there…
more garden porn
6:14 pm5/8/06
None of the tulips coming up in my garden are mine. I mean, I took over the plot mid-summer last year, and, while I had the best of intentions as for planting bulbs, the garden itself was a jungle when I took it over, and a mudpit when I got finioshed with it last fall, and I still hadn’t quite worked out the lay-out to my satisfaction. So it would have been a headache to deal with bulbs I’d planted in random spots coming up everywhere in the spring, when I wanted to get the hardscaping sorted.
So the ones popping up now are all little surprises. Colorwise, they’re not my favorites–I prefer something a little more delicate, but I’ll take ‘em anyway. Here’s a little garden porn for a cloudy Monday…
the tale of a tulip
6:24 pm5/1/06
baby grass update
6:08 pmNothing quite as exciting as watching grass grow, is there?
It’s coming along, though.
5/1/06
Fire in the Fens
8:25 am
Note: this post has some adult-type themes.
Finally repaired my fence yesterday. It was a pretty labor-intensive little task–I had to dig a new post hole, and then attach fencing. I still have kind of a lousy gate, which I’ve got to do something about, but the fence problem’s been around since last summer, when someone basically pushed one of my posts over to get into my garden for an amorous liaison.
Speaking of. There was another fire in the phragmites while I was working in my garden. Phragmites is the tall “grass” that grows on the edge of the Muddy River. It’s an invasive species and very hard to control. There are “controlled burnings” on occasion, and then there are the, er, uncontrolled burnings, like yesterday. Sometimes it’s people hanging out there, smoking cigarettes—especially when it’s as dry as it has been, and sometimes it’s somebody who sets a fire on purpose, for whatever reason.
Love it or hate it, the phragmites is probably the most popular place in the park. It can get to be ten-twelve feet high, and there are lots of little nooks and crannies where people can meet. And where that’s the case, there’s lots of drugs and sex. Care for some crystal and a blowjob? This is the place!
And this goes on 24-7 this time of year. You’ll always see people milling around down by the Muddy River. Men, of course. It’s a guy thing. And at night, the Fens becomes a different place entirely, and the gardens provide a perfect setting for lovers–or, if not lovers, exactly, at least suckers, blowers, lickers, and fuckers.
Most gardeners in the Fens know what they’re in for. Like I said, most employ some minimal deterrent, like climbing roses—I also planted a couple of those along my new fence yesterday. But the truth is, nothing’s fool-proof, and you can’t obsess over nocturnal garden invasions. It’s gonna happen. All you can hope for is that they’ll be gentle.
4/29/06
life in the neighborhood
10:46 amI spoke too soon, as for my baby grass. The rain really did give it that extra oof: Here’s a shot with the macro lens:
The magnolia has shed most of its blooms, but still people are streaming through row E to see it. There was a young jogger when I was in my garden yesterday, who came by once on his way to class and then again on his way back. He ran down the row, stood there in front of the magnolia, just looking, and then turned around and ran off in the direction he came. It’s interesting that merely looking at something can give us such pleasure (an interesting discussion of this can be found in the always insightful Elaine Scarry’s On Beauty and Being Just–which, if you’d like to buy it, feel free to go here and use my amazon link at right, or not–also the brilliant and big-hearted John Berger’s seminal Ways of Seeing is a must-read).
Anyway, here’s what’s next for the magnolia, in case you were curious:
I also wanted to post some pics of my neighbors’ plots. They are more mature than mine, and I’m getting all sorts of inspirations for mine from them. I told Eddy, whose plot is the bottom one below, that I was getting ideas for next spring from Daphne, whose gorgeous garden is the one in the center here, and he said: “I hate that! Everything with gardeners is about next year!”
I don’t know if I agree with him. I’ve got a lot to think about yet this year, but I definitely want to make a mental note about what to plant where this autumn, so that next spring I’ll have some early blooms in my garden. I mean, to keep it blooming from spring to autumn is the idea, innit?
Daphne was more philosophical. When I ran into her yesterday, she gave me some tips about planting lilies next to daffodils that she said she’d just picked up herself. She said that that was the thing she loved about gardening, that there was always something new to learn, something new to try, even if it’s too late to try it this year.
4/27/06
Well, things got a little wet these last couple of days, but not nearly wet enough. At least not here in Boston. I’m not having much luck growing my grass, as much as I have been sending those super gamma rays into the earth trying to get it going.
Here’s another view of the garden taken recently, looking southeast:
You know, all you need is a good, steady, sustained shower, over night, even, and you see everything POP. There’s nothing like rain. I mean, I get over there and water it, but it’s not like a good rain.
4/26/06
The Garden Gate
10:21 am
One of the interesting challenges of public gardening, particulalry in a high-traffic multi-use urban environment like the Fenway, is security. You probably don’t think about this when you’re walking through the gardens, but it’s definitely an issue for the gardeners.
Vandalism is a concern for anyone who gardens in the city. In the Fenway you can count on your garden being trashed at least once a summer. Which is unfortunate. It may be an eternal truth that every positive notion, urge, or action has its equal and opposite. It seems so, at least. Whatever constructive urges we humans have are at least matched, if not surpassed by the urge we have to destroy things.
I don’t think there’s much to be done about it, to tell you thed truth, because, like it or not, that destructive urge is fundamental to our progress as a species. But the problem is, the urge to destroy is not always married to that urge to rebuild. Sometimes it’s just the urge to destroy, period. And it’s up to someone else to rebuild.
Lucky for everyone, gardeners are used to rearranging, shaking things up and rising to the challenges nature and man throw in their path. That’s such a basic part of what gardening is, that wehen your garden gets trashed, you stand around stunned, scratching your head for a while, and then get back down to work.
Which is not to say that anyone wants to have their garden trashed. But it happens. It’s hard to understand in a rational way. But I suspect those responsible are generally under the influence of something–in the Fens it could be anything from crack to crystal. Not that that makes it less wrong, but somehow it’s more understandable.
Because razorwire is forbidden, and the fences are usually pretty easy to hop, most gardeners try to safeguard the fruits of their labor by planting thorny climbing plants along their fences. I’m off to pick up a couple of climbing rose bushes later this afternoon, which will be the extent of my security measures. The trick is not to make it look like you’re barricading yourself in. You want a natural barrier that whispers: “look, but don’t touch,” rather than screams: “Stay the hell out!”
4/22/06
