These are my favorite months in the garden. So many things are in bloom. Here are a few…
These are my favorite months in the garden. So many things are in bloom. Here are a few…
All winter I dream of June and green foliage, garden centers, freshly unfurled hostas, and deep red poppies. I dream of lilacs and budded hydrangeas, of marigold flats and petunia pots, of warm days and evening rains.
And, now I’m here. In June. The heat hasn’t yet squatted on the gardens. The peonies are blooming, nodding now under the weight of heavy blooms and last night’s rains. Winter’s toll has been tallied, mourned, and ultimately dismissed. There will always be more plants. The marigolds are in the ground and the petunia pots are nestled in their more attractive garden pots. And all the bees have awakened. It is late spring when the days are almost as long as they will be and house sparrows chitter in the bird house.
This June brings a few surprises. One is the mock orange. It’s never kicked out very many bloom, but that may have been because the McFarlane lilacs I planted with it bullied MO into a dark corner. Last summer the lilacs got a good pruning.
And MO is now covered in blooms. I planted it for its scent, but the lilacs still give off a headier perfume than MO. Mock Orange (Philadephus) was brought to European gardens from the Ottoman Empire in the 1500’s. It is often used in park plantings because it is such a reliable bloomer and some species are very fragrant. Unfortunately, mine is a less fragrant variety. I assumed all MO’s were heavily scented so I didn’t pay attention to the species I purchased. And, I vaguely recall I bought it late in the season when everything was on sale, so the price was more intoxicating than the fragrance turned out to be.
Another surprise wasn’t so much a surprise as it was a fruitful anticipation. A year ago I attended the Garden Bloggers’ Fling in Toronto and saw so many gardens with tall allium growing. Some of the gardens were formal and understated. Others were free flowing narratives of color and texture. But most had tall allium. I knew I wanted to see those beautiful globes of tiny flowers in my gardens, so I ordered a number of varieties online. But the giant allium were the most spectacular. I know I want more of them!
Well, first, I got my dates muddled and thought the 15th was on a Monday. What’s really annoying is the fact that I essentially loafed around the house yesterday and could have written this post. My excuse is that I’m coming off a big concert and am still going through post concert recovery. I know that sounds a bit weird, especially since I’m only on stage for about an hour. But there’s something about that process, the warm up, the lining up, the standing up that leeches energy. And, it’s worth it. I do want to say that besides all the performance stuff, and I’m one of 130 singers, I bake cookies for each performance. Baking, boxing, carting, and setting up take time and energy. That’s worth it, too.
But, it’s also my excuse for not posting.
Our cool wet spring continues. In fact, a couple days ago we saw snow flurries and a frost advisory was posted. I’ve checked the hostas and so far most of them look ok. I have a couple in pots that may have gotten nipped. I’ll know more about damage in a day or so.
The big bloom news is the tall allium that I planted last fall. I’ve mentioned before that we saw a lot of allium in Toronto during the Garden Bloggers’ Fling. I ordered a number of different varieties, but only the tall globe “Purple Sensation” are starting to bloom. I think the cool temps have kept the flowers from fully unfurling, but it will be worth the wait. And, there are more allium that will bloom throughout the summer. I’m definitely planting more this coming fall.
The “Blue Winky” columbine are blooming, too, as are the two bleeding hearts.
The older I get the more sensitive to cold I become. That means our chilly spring has kept me out of the garden. And, though the sun has been shining a bit today, it’s still cool, especially when the wind kicks up. The old cherry tree is beginning to fade.
The cherry tree is beginning to lose its blooms and there are small green cherries taking their places. But there are enough pollen-filled flowers to attract native beens like the mason bee above. I bought a solitary bee house last June when I got back from the Garden Bloggers’ Fling in Toronto, and noticed this afternoon that one of the chambers is full. To learn more about native bees click here.
We’ve had a lot of rain this spring and our latest deluge knocked most of magnolia blossoms to the ground. I did manage to get a shot before the day turned gloomy again.
But when the sun was still shining, it caught June Fever with some lovely backlighting.
It’s been a long time coming. A week ago there were five inches of snow on the ground. The hellebores, though in full bloom, bent double under the weight of the snow. But those hearty plants are built for Michigan springs. They are the only thing in bloom right now.
It used to be that I hated all insects. And, I confess, I dislike the majority of them even today. I usually wear gloves when I garden so that I don’t have to accidentally touch a worm, slug, or bug. But over the past few years I have come under the spell of bees, especially bumblebees and carpenter bees. I didn’t know much about them, nor was I particularly compelled to learn more. If I kept my distance, both I and the bees could maintain a manageable level of comfortableness.
I knew about bumblebees and carpenter bees. I got stung by a wasp once. And, I remember my mother telling me that “sweat bees” were harmless. And, I knew that moths and butterflies also pollinated flowers, but that was the extent of my knowledge. It was during the Garden Bloggers’ Fling in Toronto in June that I learned more about native pollinators. When I found out that a “Buzztini” was on our Fling agenda and that there would be a short presentation, sponsored by Burt’s Bees and the Fairmont Hotel, I was prepared to ask why we were spending so much effort saving honey bees when they are not indigenous to North America. But, I didn’t have to ask that question. The short presentation respected the role that honey bees play, but it also focused on mason bees and other native bees and how wonderfully efficient they are at pollinating. In fact, they are often more efficient than honey bees. And, at a number of the gardens we visited during the Fling, I spotted native bee “hotels.” You can learn more about the Fairmont’s worldwide efforts to support native and honey bees here.
When I first heard Flingers talk about mason bees, I thought they were using another name for carpenter bees. Silly me. Mason bees are a different species and are solitary, meaning they do not nest in hives, but, instead, in single little tubular compartments in trees and buildings. One of the first things I did when I got home from Toronto was order a solitary bee abode.
It arrived within a few days and when I was hanging it in the cherry tree, I looked for other places in the tree that might house mason bees and other wild native bees. Sure enough, I saw one going into a round hole in a scar where a large limb had fallen the summer before. Cherry trees limbs sometimes snap under the weight of fruit. No one has set up housekeeping in my solitary bee house, but it went in late, probably after prime egg-laying season. My hope is that next year a few females will find it attractive enough to lay eggs. I have noticed some sweat bees flitting in and out, but I think that is more about curiosity than house hunting.
There are 130 different varieties of mason bees in North America!
Female mason bees find holes created by other insects, including carpenter bees, or in cavaties hollowed out by woodpeckers. They also use hollow reeds. Once a bee has found a suitable nesting place, she gathers pollen and nectar that form a pillow from which a solitary larvae feeds as it grows. The mother bee partitions that chamber with a plug made of plant material (hence the name “mason” bee). The plug becomes that back wall for another nest. Bees destined to be female are in the back chambers. Those destined to be males are in the chambers closer to the outdoors.
Mason bees and carpenter bees are usually better pollinators than honey bees.
Honey bees were introduced in North America by colonists in the 17th century. In fact, English colonists took bees to New Zealand, Tasmania, and Australia, making the honey bee a world-wide species.
But, honey bees are not always the most efficient pollinators. They don’t forage during cool, wet, or windy conditions. Native bees, however, do not seem to mind that kind of weather. Though honey bees can transfer pollen via the hairs on their bodies, because they wet pollen and and store it in “bags” on their legs, less pollen falls off of them when they are moving from flower to flower. Large commercial bee companies transport hives from one growing region to another, which puts stress on those honey bees and further impedes their abilities to pollinate. Solitary bees cannot be transported, which makes them unattractive to commercial bee outfits.
Honey bees get a lot of glory, but native bees should not be ignored. Their presence means less stress for over-taxed honeybees. And, mason bees are far better orchard pollinators, for example, because they emerge from their nests in early spring, just in time to pollinate fruit tree blossoms. They also flat out do a better job. In fact, one mason bee can pollinate as much as 70 honey bees. Blue orchard mason bees look a bit like a fly with their iridescent blue/green bodies , but they are bees. For more images of mason bees, click here.
Leaf cutter bees are darker than honey bees and have off white stripes on their abdomen.
They get their name because they chew off sections of leaves and use them to partition off spaces, much like mason bees do with the mud they create. They, too, carry dry pollen on the hairs of their bellies. Pollination occurs when the pollen from one flower is dropped on another. They are also not aggressive.
Carpenter bees look very similar to bumblebees, but are generally larger and do not have much hair on the top of their abdomen. They also do not collect pollen on their legs, but carry it on the hairs underneath their bodies.
Paul Zammit, the Nancy Eaton Director of Horticulture at the Toronto Botanical Gardens, talked to Flingers briefly about the importance of native and honey bees. He asked us what color bees are drawn to the most. I thought it would be red. Others thought it might be yellow. It turns out bees are drawn first to white flowers. I should have known. When I want to try and photography bees in my garden, I go first to the Tardiva hydrangea. Because it blooms later (hence the name Tradiva), it provides pollen and nectar to all sorts of pollinators including wasps and butterflies.
Below are pictures of other pollinators that visit my gardens.
Thank you again to May Dreams Gardens for creating the Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day meme. Check out her website for links to gardens all over the world. Scroll down to see what is blooming in mine.
Wandered through the gardens yesterday, camera in hand. Here’s how the light played.
It is has been a rough winter for me, one full of inflammatory arthritis, or rheumatoid arthritis, or something painful that has impaired my mobility and dampened my spirits. On top of that, I had surgery a month ago and still haven’t bounced back. But this lovely warm day in May pushed me to take camera in hand and survey the gardens. I’m not able to do much gardening for a while, so I’ve hired someone to do some of the early spring chores.
This bed under the cherry tree needs some revisions. There’s an elegans that needs serious division and a slightly new location. It’s too big for the spot it is in and since I have to hire someone to do the heavy lifting, I’m going to take advantage of that extra muscle.
The bleeding heart with its lovely heart pendants, is popping out in the little bed outside the dining room. Dicentra, or Lamprocapnos, were introduced to English in the mid-1800’s. Native to Siberia, northern China, Korea, and Japan, this plant has found a happy home in West Michigan.
The entrance garden also needs some serious help. Every year I wage fierce battle with snow on the mountain. I never win. I just keep trying to get a firm grip on a green clump and hope that I can gently remove it and a bit of the root network below. Another garden demon, one that is also bothering the coral bells, is star of bethlehem, an invasive bulb. I never win that battle, either.
But the cherry tree is in full bloom. The bees love it and so do I. Last year another large limb fell under the weight of all the cherries, something that happens every couple of years. The birds and squirrels get most of the cherries and I’m happy to share.
One of my favorite May events is the flowering of the old Magnolia tree in the front garden. It’s limbs are so graceful, and beneath those love branches are some of my favorite hostas. They are calling for thunder storms tomorrow, so I suspect this lovely blossoms will be all but gone after the storm.
The Secret Garden, too, needs work, especially the bed next to garage. There is a heather plant that for the longest time I considered charming. But now it is unruly and I think I’m going to ask my hired muscle to remove it. That whole bed needs re-thinking.
One of the wonderful things about spring is that neighbors venture out. That means I get to chat with Wendell, my next door neighbor, whose imagination and creativity tell me that hope lives in the world.