Garden Art

For many years, I planted my garden using no decorative ornaments of any kind. No statues. No benches. No fountains. Even the birdbaths were selected with only function in mind. The plants provided all the ornamentation needed in my garden.

Then one day, I was walking down the street and came upon pile of picket fencing lying along the curb -- the flotsam and jetsam of someone's new landscaping. The sections of fencing were gently aged and nicely proportioned. I selected two of the sections and with some difficulty, I got them home, where the pickets looked perfect standing among the mayapples and columbine and Solomon's seal. After that, I began thinking about garden art.

Last month, I commissioned a garden sculpture from a young artist from Winston Salem. I didn't have a particular design in mind but I wanted the piece to be interactive with birds. The artist sent me a drawing through email and I liked it immediately. When the artist came to install the piece, he told me that he had made it at his grandfather's house. He had enjoyed working with his grandfather, welding, nailing, painting. Grandfather, grandson, working side by side. There is love in the creation.

I hope their creativity will spawn pro-creativity among the birds who live in my garden. Two different generations working together to encourage new generations in my garden.

Crossvine

For half its life, my orange and yellow crossvine (Bignonia capreolata) was planted at the base of our mailbox at the end of the driveway where it was drowned by runoff from spring rains, seared by hot Southern sun and poisoned by our next door neighbor.

Eventually, I moved the crossvine to the dying oak tree at the edge of the front garden. Having little faith in its recovery, I planted a plain orange one beside it and tied both to the tree with strips of old cotton cloth, which eventually rotted away as the crossvine wove its way to the top of the tree.

The oak was in decline and as it slowly died, the crossvine enjoyed more and more sun. After it climbed to the top of the tree, stormy winds and climbing creatures would knock the vines off the branches, eventually draping the trunk in a twisted mass. Later, the branches themselves would fall, becoming suspended in the tangled vine, which fell 80 feet down to the trailing verbena below.

A plant with attitude, a great humping mass of crossvine, magnificent in bloom.

Hummingbirds

My hummingbird flowers are blooming and yet no hummingbirds are to be seen. It is as if I lay a feast on the table and no one came. Here is what they are missing

Aesculus pavia

The large blooms of the red buckeye look striking with the white azalea. You would think a hummingbird would notice.

Rhododendron austrinum

This Florida azalea has a spicy sent. Irresistable, to me at least.

Rhododendrons

Many of azaleas in my garden declined to bloom this year, but these Asian hybrids are making an effort. Too bad the hummingbirds do not appreciate it.

Gelsemium semper virens

Carolina jessamine invites people and birds to the back garden.

Mertensia virginica
These Virginia bluebells planted themselves in my back garden.

Early spring garden, eagerly waiting for hummingbirds.