Welcome to rose pruning season. Before the sequiturs sever the umbilical stem between flowers and their mother plant, vases are filled with water on the counter. Making bouquets for friends is how I work up the nerve to clip away.
These bouquets are not 12 of this and 7 of that. They are simply compositions of what roses refuse to take a seasonal siesta in the Southern California's gentle climate.
The flirty single flowers of 'Betty Boop' didn't quite fill out the vase, so some stems of scented geranium clippings and rose hips from the towering 'Graham Thomas' were inserted into the arrangement.
In delivering flowers to our friend, Trisha, Edda and I picked up a candy bouquet for her grandson, Matthew. Everyone was happy.
With temperatures in the mid-80's this week, it is important to roar through the pruning. As the last time I rushed this job, I ended up with a broken arm (don't ask) it is really nice that a college student from Cal Poly both likes gardening and making a bit of spending money. There is absolutely no way 'Cinco de Mayo' can be ruined- so that is where Sal's training began. Someday he'll make a fine engineer- but for now he is an absolutely delightful shadow in the garden- one who quadruples the amount of work which gets done in a single day.
There are orchids potted up about the garden- but there is one magical spot where the flowers leap higher and more voluptuously than even 3 foot away.
To my snow-bound friends and relatives- reaching for citrus from your garden is just as delicious as it sounds.
Sal noticed this hawk watching us prune. Soon the hawk was watching just Sal prune. I deserted my pruning post in a race to dig my camera out of my study, rearm it with my telephoto and hunt the bird of prey with my lens.
Mr. Hawk was soon annoyed with all the attention and flew off.
There is a different kind of magic in the garden when the moon rules. The magnolia 'soulangiana', it was love at first site, when as a newlywed in Lakewood, there was one lovely specimen in a garden on my short commute to Cerritos.
The loveliness of the pink and magenta flowers - they define the difference for me between yard and garden.
The path between my husband's shed and the patio is dominated by the angel trumpet (brugmansia versicolor) trees. We planted one. The other just popped up. When the sun rules- the air is abundantly alive with the buzzing of bees. At night, these coral beauties fill the air with their scent. Their perfume beckons moths from miles away, seducing the winged creatures into the ritual of pollination.
|A garden is not complete without artwork|
My husband, was carpenter and woodworker. He built my shed with our sons; framed and mounted the window. He then engineered a standard solar lighting kit to light the window from inside. In my nightly pass to close up the house for the evening- this act of extra thoughtfulness illuminates the short sojourn in the garden.
|A small stained glass globe just outside the living room window rests atop a pedestal made from 4 small trellises|
Color. Texture. Pattern. The melding of house to home. We've belonged to this house and garden since 1986. Our intent was to shape this place into our vision. The reality is it shaped us.
Linking to May Dream's Garden Blogger's Bloom Day and
My Romantic Home's Show and Tell Friday