Thursday, June 4, 2009
The June Garden
June is such a lovely month for gardens. Out here in the Idaho rangelands, July & August tend to be extremely hot & extremely dry, & while there are some very lovely hot weather flowers such as day lilies & sunflowers, I think the real peak starts sometime in May & last well into June. It’s the time for lilacs & poppies & columbine & geraniums & roses & calendula & California poppies (which last very well thru the hotter weather), all following the fruit blossoms of mid-May. The weather is warm enough, & can even be a bit warmer than one might ideally like, but it’s not the dead oppressive heat of late summer, when a 90-degree day feels cool, & temperatures rise to 100 or better on many days.
The songbirds are flocking to the feeders & to the shrubbery & the willows—goldfinches, blackheaded grosbeaks, redwing & yellow-headed blackbirds, lazuli buntings, cowbirds & all the sparrows—white-crowned, English, chipping & song! The evenings are very long—not only are we close to the 45th parallel, but we’re also in the extreme western part of Mountain Time—places to the east of us in north Idaho are actually on Pacific Time (an hour earlier), so there’s still daylight after 10:30 p.m. (of course this will seem much more remarkable to our friends to the south & probably pretty humdrum to our Canadian friends & friends in the British Isles).
In celebration of the peak garden season, here are some photos of Eberle’s garden, which I think is extraordinarily beautiful this year, even by her very high gardening standards. There’s also a slideshow with yet more pictures, & with background music by Eberle herself—an accordion piece titled “The Picnic” from our 2008 Moominpappa at Sea soundtrack.
The columbines have hybridized & created some lovely colors.
Calendula - part of the xeriscape garden that Eberle has planted next to the south wall of the house. All the plants there like harsh desert-like conditions.
Wild rose - part of a hedge you can see out the music room window. You can also sit amongst this hedge on a cedar bench I made, or in some metal lawn furniture. Morning coffee, anyone?
A lovely & delicate flower called Snow on the Mountain, presumably because when it blooms there still is snow at the highest elevations.