A Golden Harvest

The bees have done so much work this summer. And now, in autumn, our neighbor returns to harvest the honey.



Some of the frames were almost empty. I think the additional levels of frames were added a bit too soon. Next year we'll wait a bit longer.

Jimmy took some frames for harvesting with a centrifuge. He left several levels for the bees' winter home and food.

And he gave this frame to me to harvest by hand. You can see the caps on top of the honeycomb. I scraped those off very lightly. The honey just glistens! I'm so grateful to the bees and want to give them more flowers in their garden next year.


These jars are from my harvesting efforts.

The honey is light and delicate. So beautiful.

A sweet golden harvest.

Little bundles

The garden is in its late autumn beauty now: seed heads mark where the full garden glory once stood.

The larch tree has dropped its needles, and a few fallen branches with cones are treasures to me.

The feverfew and lady's mantle are a froth of dried flowers at the edges of the beds. Rosemary and thyme offer still-green beauty; the rose gives its loveliness.

I gather bits of the garden into little bundles to bring inside. I'm not ready to say goodbye.

In the Autumn Garden

Amber hydrangeas

Little pepper ornaments

The angel with one wing

Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries

I love cherries.

I heard on public radio the other day that the cherry crop this year is abundant. All the cherry trees bloomed at the same time and so all the cherries are ripe for market at the same time. And cherries from the northwest are flooding the stores and are very cheap.

Unfortunately, not cheap around here.

I could eat bowls of cherries by myself. And I have.

On the little farm back in Michigan, my Grandpa had planted many fruit trees: lots of apple trees, a couple of pears, and some cherry trees. In the yard behind the house were the cherries. By the time my parents bought the house and all of us kids were born, only three cherry trees remained. Two were those dark sweet cherries – maybe Bing – and one was the yellow with red blush. The trees were great for climbing all summer; the massive lower limbs seemed arranged just right for our bare feet and grasping hands.

The best time to climb, of course, was when the cherries were ripe. Sometimes I’d climb up the tree, pick cherries, and eat them right up there, spitting the pits across the weedy lawn.

We'd pick and pick the cherries, and have large serving bowls of cherries in the fridge. And Mom would can the cherries and in the winter we'd have bowls of soft, syrupy cherries for dessert. Or when I'd feign illness and stayed home from school, I'd open a jar of those cherries, sneak it upstairs, and eat all the cherries, right from the jar. And then feel slightly ill.

I'd do it again.

I love cherries.

Remembering sound

The white coneflower and the Rudbeckia maxima right next to the beehive have never stood so tall. Is it the sound of buzzing coming from deep inside the hive that prompts them to grow so happily?



The first day that the hive was in the garden, I stood close to it and listened to the buzzing. I’d heard that buzz before – constant, insistent, low. I was transported back to my childhood – a foggy distant memory of Grandpa George and his beehives.

The hives were not in the small apple orchard that stood between our house and Grandpa and Grandma’s house. They were in the far-off orchard that was tucked back beyond the grape yard. The bees were there to pollinate the orchard and grapes, I suppose; I don’t remember any harvest of honey. I do remember the buzzing and the heat of a summer’s day and riding with Grandpa in his old pickup.

Memory is connected with our senses and I’m often taken back on the wings of scent – the smell of apple blossoms, of cinnamon and yeast, of muguet de bois and Coppertone and line-dried sheets.

But the sounds of memory -- harder for me to summon up. I'm mulling this one over.

What are your sounds of memory?

Patterns in the garden

On a quiet Sunday morning, finding patterns in the garden:


stripes . . .


and dots . . .

It's my favorite time of the week.

Festooning the nest

A little corner of my 'studio'


bedecked with thrifted ribbons and beads.

We all like to festoon our nests.

A day for garden visitors

The garden guest book for today:

lots of birds, of course, and the honeybees.

Also:

a baby toad, a hummingbird,

a doe and twin fawns (in a client's garden),

and a dragonfly.

And here is a lantern for the midnight fairies.

Honey Bees in the Garden

We have a beehive! Back in early May, our neighbor set up a hive in our little garden. He has quite a few hives, at his house down the street and near some cranberry bogs up in Wisconsin, and had asked us if he could put one here. Oh, yes!

A few weeks later the bees arrived. He opened the back of his vehicle and there were boxes and boxes of bees for the new hives he's setting up -- and a few strays just flying around.

He set up the first part of the hive and then put in the queen. (She's in the little rectangular box in his right hand.)


She's sealed in the little box with a bit of beeswax and when the other bees find her, they eat away the wax to release her into her new kingdom.




All the bees are poured on top of the racks and when they settle down, with a little smoke applied to calm them, the top boxes are stacked into place.

And here's our new hive. It's so fun to watch the bees and see where they are each day. They were very busy on the crab tree a few weeks ago. Yesterday they were all over the patch of mourning-widow geranium. Usually I deadhead the geranium a bit early so it doesn't self-sow all over, but this year I'll be waiting for the bees to finish. And I'm planning to put some more plants in just for the bees. Then maybe they won't mind sharing their honey with me at the end of the summer.

Birthday wishes

Spring means birthdays for my two sisters. L has an April birthday. When I was a little girl I was enthralled and envious of her birthstone. Diamond! Like so many little girls, I dreamed of Wedding and all that goes with it. I remember a long family car trip to Montana. I sat in the 'way back' sketching out wedding dresses and bridesmaid dresses on little scraps of paper that my father brought home from shop. And my sister's birthstone was tangled up in my wedding reverie. L did not have a birthstone ring, but it was enough for me that her birthstone is diamond. Lucky duck.

My other sister, C, has a May birthday. Oh, yes, I had a reason to be envious of her birth month as well: her flower is lily of the valley. Muguet des bois. The most beautiful of all the spring floral scents. And the perfume! Oh how we loved that perfume. The scent of lily of the valley and the greening of spring and my sister with the blonde hair that I ironed for her . . . .

Sweet memories of a shared childhood. Flowers and car trips and daydreams . . . . and my little envious wishes for me have turned into many many joyful wishes for you, L, and for you, C.

Happy birthday sisters.

I Heart Fritillaria

Here and there in the garden are fritillaria. These little checkered lanterns dangle in the shade right next to the hellebores.

Another fritillaria, this one from Turkey, has beams of light along its edge.

This must be the night light for the garden fairies -- a soft green glow cast onto the earth.

I heart fritillaria.

From the garden

Skeletonized magnolia leaf and poppy pod = Garden 2008
Chionodoxa 'Pink Giant' = Garden 2009

Buying spring

OK, it's not funny any more. We had snow again last night and spring seems as far away as ever.




But I get to buy spring -- that is, I buy flowers and plant spring container gardens for a couple of our clients. So here's what I found today: hydrangeas, osteospermum, and stock. I've already purchased pansies, dwarf daffodils, and grape hyacinth. And now my cold back room looks like spring. Cheery!

April showers

After a day of snow and then lots of rain,



the garden looks a bit chilly . . . . and quite soggy.

But spring is here.

I'm glad.

Another walk in the garden

Hydrangea 'Blushing Bride'


Buddleia 'White Knight'



Elephant ear


Love-lies-bleeding


Caladium




Nicotiana + Verbena bodnariensis


Which one is your favorite?

Regrets at Summer's End

Where does the summer go? I feel a bit of melancholy at the end of summer. Long days seem to slip away so fast.

And now we're at summer's end, looking toward the next season. The list of projects I wanted to complete is long. And I just want to be in the garden, sharing its beauty and plenty with Mr. Chippy and Mr. Toad.

Here's an early summer project still to be completed: ATCs for my two sisters. Ack, ack! And the theme was my selection this time: Strawberry. Note the due date: June 16. Why, that's just last week, no? No?!


I will make the cards. . . . very very soon. Promise.





If anyone is looking for me, I'm in the garden.