I needed a free-form trellis for the back corner of the carport.
That is where my favorite Spy Chair is positioned.
It’s hard to spy in plain view.
Last year I hung a tacky mixture of things for Climbing Okra to cling to.
This year I wanted all circles. I had some peony support circles and some needle-work frames.
I found more bamboo circles on the internet. I connected all these with zip ties.
The vine of choice this year is Flying Saucer morning glories.
My neighbor Nancy saw me constructing my Spy Blind of circles to hide behind.
“What if I’m talking about you?” she asked. “I’ll listen.” was my reply.
We joke about reading each others mail, too.
This title seems like the post will be about wines.
Instead it is the last post about my many amaryllis blooms.
Long ago Red Lion was one of only a few choices.
There were whites without names.
Now there are dozens of hybrids to choose from.
Picotee has the quiet beauty that compliments the reds and the whites at our small pond.
This is another favorite of mine. It deserves a closer look.
The reds and whites are my oldest amaryllis. Not showy, but steadfast.
Picotee is a new addition to the collection.
My neighbors do not like wildlife.
They really hate Canada geese and their babies.
So in addition to caution tape and reflectors along their shoreline,
They have added two fake/dead/stuffed coyotes from McNeely Pest Control.
We have real coyotes here, so I am excited to see how this turns out. I may have to get out the Critter Cam.
I could not let May end without mentioning my foxgloves.
I consider them fascinating.
Each thimble is designed to guide a bee into it.
The spots inside are like little landing lights.
The tall spikes of blooms and fluffy leaves below create perfect balance.
I have planted them many places from which they disappear, only to reappear somewhere else.
Seeds sown in the fall will sprout in spring and bloom a year later.
They are self-sowing biennials. Enjoy them wherever they choose to grow.
Sarah waits patiently while the other peonies finish their performance.
Her buds have been on hold for the signal to start.
Then they all open almost simultaneously.
They start in attire of white with taffy edges.
The petals slip into a ballet slipper pink as the blooms open.
She is worth the wait.
Sarah Bernhardt is the star of my garden.
May is definitely circus month for my Amaryllis.
The clowns are putting on their biggest show ever.
Monte Carlo has on its brightest red and white costume. Pink Surprise is pretty in flashy pink. Apple Blossom is the rice between spice.
Minerva has formed a crowd above the stone wall.
Charisma has toned down the contrast of its costume with a blending of pigments.
Monte Carlo refuses to blend in with the surroundings.
Apple Blossom has too much dignity to clown around and show off.
I consider it the amaryllis for all locations.
I love each amaryllis for its own character.
Stay tuned. There are more beside the pond surrounded by ferns.
The show will go on!
I know that I have referred to these as my garden clowns.
They are too big and too bright to fit into the landscape.
The truth is they are crazy happy outside and grow bigger and better than they ever could in a pot.
I give myself a different one each Christmas.
I have lost some in the past, until I developed a method of planting that protects them from rotting or being eaten.
The secret is lava rocks. I make a nest of rocks around each as I plant it.
This “lava rock nest” improves drainage and discourages diggers and munchers.
Now they survive and thrive in the garden.
All the other flowers pale in comparison to these show-offs.
I need their audacious blooms in the winter, so I keep collecting them.
They continue to grow and multiply and upstage the other flowers in May.
I do love my bold and beautiful garden clowns.
Stay tuned for more clowns and a famous actress.
I was given a few pieces of this epiphyllum years ago.
It has grown slowly.
It hangs in my sewing room among the drying laundry during the winter.
In the spring, it gets moved into a Crepe Myrtle.
It is stingy with its blooms, but each is spectacular.
The bloom is lovely from every angle.
I see why it is called an “orchid cactus.”
I blog about these same poppies every May. I hope that continues.
My poppy population gets smaller each year despite my efforts to save and share seed.
I would hate to lose these treasured flowers from an old friend who is no longer here.
Bill Troutman gave me these seeds decades ago.
The singles bloom first, only a few doubles have appeared so far.
I cannot imagine a more beautiful plant, bud, bloom or seed pod.
This is one of my most valued plants.
I hope it will continue to dazzle me every spring forever.