The April Garden

I am blessed to have been planted in the same soil for over twenty five years and to have had the opportunity to grow my garden almost from scratch, out of the devastation wrought by a tornado in 1990. The garden is more beautiful now than it ever was before the tornado. But it has taken time. Every spring and fall I planted new trees, new shrubs, new perennials, designing new garden spaces as the years passed. Season after season, year after year the garden took shape. I watched tiny Japanese maple and other seedlings mature into beautiful specimens. I transplanted old finds, like these columbines planted by the original owner of our house:Columbine loves the areas adjacent to the mulched paths wandering through the front garden. Every year I find seedlings to take the place of older ones that die away. I started with six plants; now I have many more. It is my favorite flower, and the bees love them, too!I watched things die, and I fretted until I learned to get over it. I discovered a lot about gardening along the way. Now the death of a plant is an opportunity to do something better.

That brings me to now. Our bitter winter killed a palm tree in the woodlands and the row of Pavonia Hastata that edged our patio. I replaced the palm tree with golden Anise 'Florida Sunshine', and I am bordering the patio with roses and colorful flowering companions. The wonderful Confederate Jasmine that covers the arch leading onto the patio was a close call. All of the leaves died, and we decided to cut it far back, only to discover that the old, rusty arch was completely broken. It was being supported by the jasmine and not the other way around! So we had a new, solid iron arch made: it will outlast us! No jasmine is showing in the following photo, but be assured it is there. The old plant on one side is beginning to show signs of life, and I planted a companion jasmine on the other side.

You can see a section of the new arch here:

April really is the most beautiful month in my garden! Here are some more photos taken around the front garden:

This view looks toward the front garden from the patio. Blue ajuga and perennial verbena grow at the foot of a table we refurbished:
There are assorted azaleas blooming in the front garden:

Here are a couple of current scenes in the woodland garden. The weeping Japanese maple in the top image is 'Waterfall':
The red flower in the above right hand photo is Silene virginica, a native wildflower also called fire pink.

Several years ago I planted some native azaleas in the woodlands, and I have waited patiently for them to bloom. Rhododendron austrinum 'Florida Flame' has finally rewarded me. It has a deliciously fragrant flower. These shrubs once were called Honeysuckle, until the infamously invasive Hall's honeysuckle, Lonicera japonica, arrived from Japan and stole the name. When the afternoon sun shines through the flower, I can see it glowing from the other side of the woodland garden!

From various parts of the garden, here are more April flowers:Clockwise from top left: Variegated Solomon's Seal; Phlox divaricata, also called woodland phlox; Iberis, or Candytuft; Dianthus 'Bath's Pink'; Cornus florida, our native dogwood; Primula sieboldii; A white flowering form of Epimedium; Dicentra eximia, a dwarf Bleeding Heart that blooms all summer.

Flowers can't take all the compliments! I always admire lovely leaves, so I will end with a small sampling of April foliage:Clockwise from top left: Juniper 'Saybrook Gold'; Caryopteris 'Sunshine Blue'; Japanese Painted Fern; Carex 'Everillo'; Bronze Dutch Clover; Native Holly Fern.

I hope you enjoyed looking at my April garden. Have a great week!   Deb

Early Spring in Deb's garden

Redbud trees are blooming.But the garden is a mess. Bales of pine straw are waiting to be spread. A large heap of mulch and sacks of sand and soil are off to one side. Heavy pavers for a new walkway are stacked upon a pallet. Projects are being attacked that should have been completed already but haven't been, because who wants to work in the icy temperatures that we were having until recently?

It is all very exciting, and my garden juices are flowing like the river that rushes over Niagara Falls; and I go headfirst, tumbling till I hit bottom and realize I can't do this. I am fortunate to have Lou, who is retired and is an eager helper. So I am the supervisor, and we will get it done when we get it done.

Every year is like this, and I wonder if the time will come when everything is completed, and all we have to do in the spring is to tidy up, then sit back on the patio and drink refreshing drinks while we listen to the birds chirp. I doubt it, for there is always another project on the horizon, whether or not we know it. When we become too feeble for gardening, then we will pass the garden to younger souls with stronger bodies and new ambition. Or maybe it will simply die away, a lost garden choked by weeds and held alive only in fading memories. I can accept that.

But for now, I still feel the rush. Washes of color are showing up in the gray landscape. The bright orange of flowering quince:

The magenta-pink and white of Jane magnolia:

The bright yellow of forsythia and the lavender-pink of redbuds:

Below left, the hellebores are fading but still beautiful; and though many of the daffodils have finished blooming, there are still lovelies out there, including the pristine white one below right:

Early spring in my garden is busy, busy, busy. We must get so much accomplished before summer's heat puts a stop to it. Yet what is that worth if we don't appreciate the beauty, if we don't watch the bluebirds and hawks and geese flying overhead, if we fail to hear the songs of nature or to smell the rich perfumes in the air? So I take time to sit with a refreshing drink, and I thank God for the earth He has given us to work upon.