Playing with color

We continue to have beautiful snowfalls snowy arbor

followed by melt, thaw and freeze. On gray winter days, there is nothing more satisfying than gathering colorful pictures of the garden together to create a story.April arbor

 In one way, it is looking back at the previous year’s triumphs in the garden stone steps in the mistbut in another, it is a way of tracing the exploration of an idea over a long period of time.

Even as I gradually transform the garden into a more pollinator friendly place, I will probably never let go of a few of those plants that inspired me to garden in the first place. I have removed hundreds of plants in my garden in the past three years – those that were invasive or did not serve the eco-system that I am trying to build – and added hundreds of others that contributed to life in the garden. But roses (click on any photo to see a larger image)

daylilies, peonies, lilies, and others

– many of which are interlopers in the North American landscape – still have their place in my heart and I’ve kept those I love the most and which do no harm.  My garden behind the fence is still arranged by color and I continue to play in that most ephemeral of paintboxes.

A few weeks ago, I collaborated with a group of gardeners on YouTube to create our own videos of how we interpreted the Art of Gardening, then sharing links to each other’s videos. I immediately gravitated to playing with color – it is something that looks good on the screen and people in the northern hemisphere are desperately hungry for color during our long gray and white winters. Creating short garden videos has become a new form of expression for me – I continue to learn and refine my skills while working to add new techniques. My instincts proved correct – my collaboration video has gone a bit viral and gives me encouragement to pursue this avenue of expression. Enjoy a feast of color for the eyes, spring is not far off!

All text and images @2024 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved (excepting the collaboration photo)

The beauty of letting go

How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs

We had a glorious autumn this year. Each day, the colors shifted from green to gold to russet and burgundy, slow steps into the final leaf fall.

The hillside remained handsome for longer than expected while the leaves in the woods began their slow shift into the colors of fire.

Pixie loves the smells of autumn and the fun of running through crisp leaves.

The rosy pink blossoms of Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ glowed beneath the gold of the bitternut hickory leaves, a column of unexpected colors. The trees in the surrounding woods slowly crescendoed from a murmur of pale gold  to a full-throated song of orange and russet red.

Yesterday morning I walked through the garden, now quiet and hushed except for the crackle of fallen leaves on the path and the calls of a few winter birds. The leaves lie on the ground and pale winter sunlight has replaced the mysterious shadows and deep colors of autumn. The fall symphony has come to a close and winter waits in the wings, a new season carrying its own quiet beauty.

You can see the beautiful progression of color and leaf fall here – enjoy!

Autumn teaches us the beauty of letting go. Growth requires release – it’s what the trees do. ~ka’ala

A moment of balance

On September 23, the light on this planet will achieve a moment of perfect balance, a moment when there is a period of equal light and darkness throughout the world. And then it will tilt on, ever changing over the seasons until the next equinox. Like the planet, I experience my own moments of balance, especially when I’m in the garden.

Life is a balance of holding on and letting go. ~Rumi

I’ve devoted this year to improving my health so that I can continue to garden. Daily attention to the foods I eat and working to build strength has improved not only my mobility but my balance, allowing me to weed a hillside or traverse the stone steps of the garden without fear.

When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way. ~Wayne Dyer

Once again I can dance with the garden, a pas de deux that seems to leave us both pleased. I supply the plants and the support system, she responds with beauty that nourishes my soul and living creatures who fill the garden with color, movement and sound. We’ve become old friends, my garden and I – we have found our rhythm in this slow dance of flowers. (Click on any photo to see a full size image)

Last year, I focused on replanting the outer garden to grow more native plants, to support more pollinators in their life cycle. The results were all I hoped for, as the more naturalistic planting style fit our wooded lot and the upswing in insects and birds was notable. This scene was transformed from the foxgloves and peonies in May to the blooms of betony (Stachys) and milkweed in June, along with the emergence of native grasses.

July was filled with the graceful wands of tufted hair grass (Deschampsia cespitosa) and the raspberry red flowers of bee balm (Monarda didyma).

The walk through this little garden is filled with the sound of bees and birds

though quiet on misty mornings.

You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you. ~Isadora Duncan 

This year, I took the same approach to the inner garden, letting go of many non-natives, especially many daylilies which found new homes

 and replacing them with plants that support wildlife at every stage of their life cycle. Next year, those changes should be more evident in the number and diversity of insects and birds yet still add beauty and balance to the garden.

The balance of nature is not a status quo, it is fluid, ever shifting, in a constant state of adjustment. ~Rachel Carson

All the flowers of summer, from June to mid-September, are featured in this short film, with Miss Pixie gracing the garden from time to time. I was inspired by the beautiful soundtrack recording of Satie’s Gymnopedie #1 recorded on cello.

Bill and I celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary a week ago. The cake decorator got a little confused about the number – we’re still practicing how to pronounce 44nd  🙂Pixie decided to erase the error by breaking her year-long record of no counter-surfing; she was feeling left out of the festivities and grabbed her own piece of cake. Honestly, it was a day of hilarity and celebration, from the time we removed the cake from its box and started giggling, toasted the day with Prosecco, reminisced over our wedding album photos, and laughed at Pixie’s antics. Forty-four years of loving and laughing has brought its own point of equanimity to our marriage.

When I awake tomorrow, the earth will be poised on its seasonal moment of balance. May you find joy and balance in your days ahead, no matter what comes your way. Happy Equinox!

All images and text ©2023 Lynn Emberg Purse except where noted

Life in a garden

We need beauty because it makes us ache to be worthy of it. ~Mary Oliver

I stepped outside at dawn this morning to a tuneful chorus of birds in the trees above me. After days of torrential rain, the birds seemed to celebrate being able to hear their own songs again. But the rain was welcome after a month of heat and drought and the garden is lush and green again.

In my garden, after a rainfall, you can faintly, yes, hear the breaking of new blooms.” ~Truman Capote

I sometimes wonder how life can be this beautiful, this life in a garden. As I continue to leave behind the intention of striving for success in the world, I am content to allow the garden to rule my imagination and inner life. Last night I dreamed of orange poppies and purple alliums but walking through the garden this morning was more beautiful than any dream.

Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers, where I can walk undisturbed . . . ~Walt Whitman

In late May and early June, the irises rang out color through the garden – bearded and Siberian iris are well known flowers and create bold imagery. (click on any thumbnail to see full size images)

Our less well known native Iris versicolor

<em>Iris versicolor</em> 'John Wood'

and Iris virginica

<em>Iris virginica</em> with <em>Tradescantia ohioensis</em>

bring a quiet and subtle grace to the garden.

Watching the iris,
the faint and fragile petals –
How am I worthy? ~ Amy Lowell

On the cusp between May and June, peonies and allium bloom outside the fence where the herds of deer ignore them. My favorite peony is ‘Krinkled White’ whose single flowers expose the inner parts that feed the bees and yet resist falling to the ground after a rain.

It is a fairy flower. Can you see it, touch it, smell it, and not love it? . . . The next time I live I wish I might be a single white peony so that people would . . . involuntarily catch their breath at the sight of me. ~Ruth Stout

As June arrives, foxgloves and native iris join the peonies in the front garden to create a peak moment of bloom and offer more food for pollinators.

The roses lead into early summer, heavy with perfume and transcendent beauty that catches the light as the earth spins toward the solstice. The simple pink blossoms of rose ‘Complicata’ adorn the arbor above while geraniums and peonies add color underfoot.The single rose flowers catch the sun and spread their sweet scent in every direction.

Rose, O you completely perfect thing, always self-contained and yet spilling yourself forever . . . ~Rilke

The lush blossoms of a David Austin pink rose throw a June garden party with Penstemon ‘Dark Towers’ and Clematis ‘Comtesse de Bouchaud’

while the rich color and heady fragrance of ‘Rose de Rescht’ captures the eye and the nose.

. . . when I am alone I can become invisible. . . I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing ~Mary Oliver

The native white Hydrangea arborescens has begun its long summer bloom cycle as it surrounds the bench where I often sit in the shade of the woodland.

Pixie, sweet and ever present garden companion, just celebrated her second birthday.She asked if she could help me with garden chores. So grown up.

I filmed a slice of life in my garden from May into June filled with color and light. I invite you to walk with me through the garden that I love and treasure –  may you find pleasure in the shared journey.

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light. ~Mary Oliver

All photographs, video and text ©2023 by Lynn Emberg Purse except where noted, All Rights Reserved.

The golden hour

In photography, the golden hour is the period of daytime shortly after sunrise or before sunset, during which daylight is redder and softer than when the Sun is higher in the sky. ~Wikipedia

We had three glorious days of sunshine this past week, probably a first for this year. The garden reveled in the sunshine and bloomed gloriously at the height of daylily season. pinkhems2

The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts. ~Marcus Aurelius

Pink daylilies bloomed with abandon

as did the purple and plum colored ones.

Flowers with eyes seemed to follow me with their gaze wherever I went in the garden

while the deepest colors added bass tones to the floral orchestra.

Without black, no color has any depth. But if you mix black with everything, suddenly there’s shadow – no, not just shadow, but fullness. You’ve got to be willing to mix black into your palette if you want to create something that’s real. ~Amy Grant

According to local weather tracking, only 29% of the days this year have been without rain or other precipitation. Like any gardener, I treasure rain but it has been a dark and gloomy summer. After those few glorious days of sunshine, the rain returned with a series of furious storms that pounded the garden with wind, water and spates of lightening and thunder for most of the day. Dozens of roads were flooded in the area; after a summer of heavy rain, the soil simply could not absorb any more.

The rain began again. It fell heavily, easily, with no meaning or intention but the fulfilment of its own nature, which was to fall and fall. ~Helen Garner

dewyroseleaf

In late afternoon, the rain stopped and the sky lightened. By early evening, sunlight unexpectedly sifted through the trees and turned the garden into a golden land.

treelight

While many of the flowers were battered and sodden, their color sang to me from below as I stood at the top of the hill.  The battle with weeds and soggy garden beds were forgotten. The world was glowing.

I stood transfixed as the garden seemed to turn to me and say “See? We are fine. Stop worrying about neatness or perfection and join us as we revel in this golden hour.” rosedereschtrain

Once in a golden hour,
I cast to earth a seed,
And up there grew a flower,
That others called a weed. ~Tennyson

All text and photos ©2019 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved except where noted.