Columbine

COLUMBINE

Whomever lived here in this house before me, loved pale pink. And they have done a magnificent job of matching the pale pinks that come through in the Spring. The cherry. The azalea. The columbine. I have come to love them perhaps just through the appreciation for the skill of whomever chose this combination. My guess is that it was the 50’s so they are old varieties.

But the columbine. Re-seeding itself everywhere. Delicate and gently aggressive all at once. ‘

But the columbine. Is not the one the hummingbirds love. I have been wondering what they eat in Spring (drink??). I heard last week that they were migrating North. In New Jersey and making their way up to us. 

But what will they eat?

The columbine. The native columbine. The one I have never planted because the orangey-red and yellow color palate is hard to match with the pinks and brash daffodil yellows of Spring.

I bought one (#gotmineatbutterflyeffectfarm). Planted it in by the front door where it could grow in my woodruff and clash with my tulips and offset my budding amsonia. More Pollack than Monet at this point.

My four year old and I were messing around in the garden. Digging something. Talking about popsicles. And two hummingbirds arrived, from NJ, and wove in and out between us and were frantically bumping in to each other as we froze. Starstruck.

It’s the columbine.

I need five more. Or ten more. Or 1000s more. 

(it’s dark as write this from the front porch but I can hear the flurry of those hummingbird wings as we speak). - Westport MA, May 6th

History

Growing Tips

Red Maple

The Red Maple in my backyard is covered in pale-green lichens. Covered. Really covered. I wouldn't say the tree is doing particularly well - someone has done a poor job cutting limbs in the past, signs of rot, and breaking branches.

A swing hangs from one of the branches. It's sturdy. But I worry.

The birds use it all the time, of course.

It is a wetland edge, moisture-loving tree. A keystone specie for the region. We bought the house for this tree. It is regal, and massive, and peaceful and rotting.

If it goes, the backyard would be transformed. The light in to the house would be transformed. I imagine I would grieve for years, even as I appreciated the sunshine pouring through the western facing windows.

It is one of the first trees to 'bloom'. A critical source of nectar for pollinators.

Plant them. Plant one. Plant many. please....

Red Maple: Acer rubrum
Red Maple: Magical Properties
Red Maple: About
Red Maple: Planting
Red Maple: Cultivars

photo thank you to Brian Pfeiffer who is doing fascinating work and well worth a follow…

On Winter Jasmine

“I’ll tie the universe of stars to the net with green garden twine, which has that dusty, dry smell I love so much.”
— Jasmine, "Dust to Seed" by Marc Hamer

It would be this time of year, that they are blooming, in Ireland. It is such an inherently unruly shrub. There is no ‘training it’, taming it. It huddles and skulks, overflows and droops and just wants to be wilder than most will let it be. When you grab it, to tie it up against a barren, block wall - it does indeed struggle against you - like a wild and unruly galaxy would, I imagine. It IS a galaxy - of winter blossoms, slight fragrance. Its the harbinger of the harbingers. It’s one of the shots of sunshine yellow that nature, whomever she may be, gives us as we muddle and drag our way through the depths of winter darkness. Followed by gorse. Forsythia. Daffodils. Remember, she says, what sunshine looks like and feels like and smells like. Even that coconutty fragrance of the gorse - the smells of summer and sunscreen and the tropics. She knows…we struggle. With the cold and dark and sometimes forget - spring is almost here. Summer will come again. The light will come. 

photo credit to Bug Woman London