Flower for the Day Columbine 5-31-19

This has not been a banner year for columbine. We had a few and they were colorful

but our usual regulars have not shown up so far. These filled a large area. I remember them because they were so brilliant after my cataract surgery.

                    

It is pretty for a hybrid. I prefer the naturals.

Here is another.

           

Glowing in her bonnet-
Glowing in her cheek-
Glowing is her Kirtle-
Yet she cannot speak.

Better as the Daisy
From the summer hill
Vanish unrecorded
Save by tearful rill-

Save by loving sunrise
Looking for her face.
Save by feet unnumbered
Pausing at the place.

Emily Dickinson

Flower for the Day Peony III 5-30-19

Here are the last of the peonies, this time from the Lake House.

         

         
         
         


      

          

I am surrounded by peonies.

Flower for the Day Peonies II 5-28-19

Its also been a great year for peonies. They are winding down now. Known for drooping, the unrelenting storms 

have battered them. Here is a bush before the droop.

This one started out beautiful and transformed into spectacular.

          

It lasted a week in a Steuben dish that we got for a wedding present. Not too many of those left.

Peonies

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open–
pools of lace,
white and pink–
and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away

to their dark, underground cities–
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again–
beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?
        Mary Oliver  

Flower for the Day - Iris Eye Candy 5-27-19

Its been a great year for Iris. Here are some oldies but goodies.

          And here is a new one.


         

          

Flower for the Day The Gnome Garden 5-21-19

The gnomes are excited to be back outside after wintering in the garage. They have a great sense of humor and never stop smiling.

If you gnu what the gnomes gnu you would smile too.

Don's Blog - Bob Dylan's Lyrics as Poetry

We have been looking at lyrics as poetry. Here are the Lyrics to a Dylan song called,

Your'e Going to Make Me Lonesome When You Go

I've seen love go by my door
It's never been this close before
Never been so easy or so slow
Shooting in the dark too long
But something not right, it's wrong
You're going to make me lonesome when you go

Dragon clouds so high above
I have only known careless love
It has always hit me from below
But this time around it is more correct
Right on target, so direct
You are going to make me lonesome when you go

Purple clover, Queen Anne lace
Crimson hair across your face
You could make me cry if you don't know
Can't remember what I was thinking of
You might be spoiling me with too much love
You are going to make me lonesome when you go

Flowers on the hillside blooming crazy
Crickets talking back and forth in rhyme
Blue river running slow and lazy
I could stay with you forever and never realize the time
Situations have ended sad
Relationships have all been bad
Mine has been like Verlaine's and Rimbaud
But there is no way I can compare
All those scenes to this affair
You are going to make me lonesome when you go

You are going to make me wonder what I am doing
Staying far behind without you
You are going to make me wonder what I am saying
Make me give myself a good talking to
I will look for you in old Honolulu
San Francisco, Ashtabula
You are going to have to leave me now I know
I'll see you in the sky above
In the tall grass in the ones I love
You are going to make me lonesome when you go

Oh, you are going to make me lonesome when you go
Oh, you are going to make me lonesome when you go
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
You are going to make me lonesome when you go
Songwriters: Bob Dylan
You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go lyrics © Ram'S Horn Music

Now listen to the song and follow the lyrics

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&ved=2ahUKEwi5gd3P-enhAhUD7awKHc_zDVkQyCkwAHoECAgQBQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DI2wvaWTTmz8&usg=AOvVaw1-EfBbCdnnJCljked9rBl9

"I'll see you in the sky above

 In the tall grass in the ones I love"

How about that?

Flower for the Day First Peony 5-16-19

My first peony is also my favorite. I remember it clearly from growing up. Can I ever get beyond those memories? Its the depth of the red that does me in. They don't last very long but they do fulfill my joy.

You could mistake them for a rose.

But not for long - no bloom is quite so rich and exquisite.

Spring River Flowers Moon Night

The river is smooth and calm this evening,

The peony flowers bloom.

The moon floats on the current.

The tide carries the stars.

— Qian Qi (Tang Dyanasty)

Peonies at Jixing Temple

Springtime radiance, gradually, gradually where does it go?

Again before a wine jar, we take up a goblet.

All day we've questioned the flowers, but the flowers do not speak.

For whom do they shed their petals and leaves, for whom do they bloom?

–Emperor Yang (Sui Dynasty)

Flower for the Day Wall Flower 5-15-19

When spring arrives there is a bright orange color in the wildflower gardens that catches your eye from afar.

The wall flower returns each year bringing me pleasure. The birds have spread it around to different areas. In the mustard family this western wall flower is Erysimum capitum. It is named for growing well near stone walls.

This image shows various stages of petal formation.

Flower for the Day Iris 5-8-19

We have had incredible iris for several weeks. New ones bloom daily. They have been battered by the rains. Here are a few iris pictures which speak for themselves.

My Dream Of Iris

I dreamt I cast an overarching path
Of coloured scales
Thriving on the solar rays that play upon
The waning of the storm –

I’d thrown a filmy avenue to reconnect
Empyrean with humankind!

Elated, I flitted through refracted hues –
Those from watery spheres that
Fan the iridescent prism.

And more: shimmering sprites in dance atop the spray
Conveyed adieus to gods
Departing for their hallowed visitation…

I woke and pined anon,
Begging Iris: ‘Be so kind and

Take us on your wing to new endeavours –
Show that nothing in the ether tempers you!
And every time you render us a rainbow,
See it fires a lust for zest anew! ’

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

Flower for the Day May Apples 5-5-19

Yesterday we climbed the hill to  a concert in the Kirkwood Park Amphitheater. It was a pleasant

concert with music from the 70's by the band, Rosewood.

On the way down the trail we noticed a huge colony of may apples (Podophyllum peltatum). 

These plants are easy to identify because of their sheltering leaves which resemble a ducks foot. The flower comes off at a branching stem and blooms in May while the eponymous  fruit matures later in the summer.

 Close up I find the simple bloom enchanting.

 

          Mandrakes

Down in the shady woodland
Where fern fronds are uncurled,
A host of green umbrellas
Are swiftly now unfurled.
Do they shelter fairy people
From sudden pelting showers
Or are the leaves but sunshades
To shield the waxen flowers?

Minnie Curtice Wait

Sugar Creek - Kirkwood Park

Several days ago we walked in Kirkwood Park. It has been raining for several weeks. As you can see we are all leafed out.

The creek is on bedrock and as you can see with running water it is beautiful.

 

Flower for the Day The Joy of Gardening 5-3-19

One of the joys of gardening is the continual wonder of plants emerging in the spring. Last fall we put in over 60 tulip bulbs in our front berm garden. In expectation I bought a tulip flag.

 

Not one tulip came up. It was probably the bulbs or the weather but could have been squirrels. What saved the day was that I had replaced some old allium with a whole new crop of bulbs which came in simultaneously. They are magnificent.  I still miss my tulips but I love my new flag.

Allium is Latin for garlic and apparently my plant eaters (squirrels, rabbits, deer) do not like the smell and taste of its bulbs. It is in the amaryllis family and is a trusted perennial.

The flowers of the Globemaster Allium are striking.

In Praise of Allium

by Denise Levertov

 

No one celebrates the allium.

The way each purposeful stem

ends in a globe, a domed umbel,

makes people think,

'Drumsticks,' and that's that.

Besides, it's related to the onion.

Is that any reason

for disregard? The flowers – look –

are bouquets of miniature florets,

each with six elfin pointed petals

and some narrower ones my eyes

aren't sharp enough to count,

and three stamens about the size

of a long eyelash.

Every root

sends up a sheaf of sturdy

ridged stems, bounty

to fill your embrace. The bees

care for the allium, if you don't ­–

hear them now, doing their research,

humming the arias

of a honey opera, Allium it's called,

gold fur voluptuously

brushing that dreamy mauve.

Don's Blog Discovering a Jewel 5-2-19

It is always exciting to find a jewel. Recently I gave my talk, "Exploring the North West Passage", to some fishermen from a local club. The venue was the pleasant discovery - Westover Farms - which is south of Steelville, Missouri, in the Mark Twain National Forest in Crawford County about an hour and a half from St Louis.

In 1854 James Westover settled on what is now Dry Creek and built a mill house. The mill flourished providing

grain, sorghum and molasses to the surrounding area. A small town, Westover, grew on the property with a post 

office, blacksmith shop, General Store and school. The mill house burned in the early 1980's.

Utilizing the cold clear water from the natural springs on the property the owners created a trout fish hatchery in the early twentieth century. The town faded away but the property has been re-vitalized into a fly fishing destination for rainbow trout. 

Westover Farms is on Route BB south east of Steelville. There are vintage log cabins and a conference center where I gave my talk. There are also springs with ponds, an Inn, a barn, a fish hatchery house, a cave and a cemetery. 

The cabin that I stayed in, Mill House, was built on the foundation of the original mill house. The cabins are built from original hand hewn timber and stone homes that have been transported from around the state and are exceptionally modern inside. 

Mill House is on Dry Creek which begins near the property and 'T'-s into the Huzzah Creek about four miles downstream. The Huzzah flows into the Meramec River which ultimately enters the Mississippi River just south of us. 

Springs were literally bubbling up from the ground as we walked around. This is Westover Spring Pond which is bursting with water cress.

The water from the spring is directed partly to Dry Creek,

and partly into raiseways which are part of the original 1920's fish hatchery. Currently rainbow trout eggs purchased in south western Missouri are placed in the Hatch House and as the trout get larger they are let into one of the raiseways. This is one of the raiseways by the Fly Shop.

Here are some juveniles.

  
Of course a fly fisherman's dream is to catch fish. Here is a friend fly fishing near the Fly Shop. He 'reportedly' had caught a 17 1/2" rainbow the day before. The veracity of fisherman is seldom questioned.

 

I on the other hand 'shot'  this wildflower, Dames Rocket (Hesperis matronalis), which was growing

in profusion spurred on by the spring rains.

 

Flower for the Day Lily of the Valley 5-1-19

My experience with my garden through the years has shown that what really produces results is a seasonal change along with sun and rain. We have had a little sun but certainly bountiful rains. The aquifers seem to be filled to overflowing and the rivers from the west and north are causing flooding. My gardens are beginning to explode.

My Lily of the Valley (Convalleria magellis) is very healthy this year. These plants form extensive colonies which are connected to each other by underground stems called rhizomes. The flowers have six white tepals fused at the base in a bell shape.The corolla of a flower is formed by petals (specialized leaves) which are surrounded by sepals which are also leaves.When the petals and sepals cannot be differentiated they are called tepals.

Lilies of the Valley

Lilies of the Valley (Ландыши), is a poem written by Tchaikovsky in December 1878 while he was in Florence.

Reproduced from Alexander Poznansky, Tchaikovsky. The quest for the inner man (1993), p. 336-337.

When at the end of spring I pick for the last time
My favourite flowers— a yearning fills my breast,
And to the future I urgently appeal:
Let me but once again look upon the lilies of the valley.
Now they have faded. Like an arrow the summer has flown by,
The days have grown shorter. The feathered choir is still,
The sun more charily grants us its warmth and light,
And already the wood has laid its leafy carpet.
Then when harsh winter comes
And the forests don their snowy cover,
Despondently I roam and wait with new yearning
For the skies to shine with the sun of spring.
I find no pleasure in books, or conversation,
Or swift-rushing sledges, or the ball's noisy glitter,
Or Patti, or the theatre, or delicate cuisine,
Or the quiet crackling of smouldering logs on the fire
I wait for spring. And now the enchantress appears,
The wood has cast off its shroud
And prepares for us shade,
And the rivers start to flow, and the grove is filled with sound,
And at last the long-looked-for day is here!
Quick to the woods!—I race along the familiar path.
Can my dreams have come true, my longings be fulfilled?—
There he is! Bending to the earth, with trembling hand
I pluck the wondrous gift of the enchantress Spring.
O lily of the valley, why do you so please the eye?
Other flowers there are more sumptuous and grand,
With brighter colours and livelier patterns,
Yet they have not your mysterious fascination.
Where lies the secret of your charms? What do you prophesy to the soul?
With what do you attract me, with what gladden my heart?
Is it that you revive the ghost of former pleasures,
Or is it future bliss that you promise us?
I know not. But your balmy fragrance,
Like flowing wine, warms and intoxicates me,
Like music, it takes my breath away,
And like a flame of love, it suffuses my burning cheeks.
And I am happy while you bloom, modest lily of the valley,
The tedium of winter days has passed without a trace,
And oppressive thoughts are gone, and in my heart in languid comfort
Welcomes, with you, forgetfulness of trouble and woe.
Yet now you fade. Again in monotonous succession
The days will begin to flow slowly, and stronger than before
Will I be tormented by importunate yearning,
By the agonizing dream of the happiness of days in May.

And then someday spring again will call
And raise the living world out of its fetters.
But the hour will strike. I shall be no more among the living,
I shall meet, like everyone, my fated turn.
And then what?—Where, at the winged hour of death,
Will my soul, heeding its command, soundlessly soar?
No answer! Be silent, my restless mind,
You cannot guess what eternity holds for us.
But like all of nature, drawn by our thirst to live,
We call to you and wait, beautiful Spring!
The joys of earth are so near to us, so familiar—
The yawning maw of the grave so dark!