The shady front yard gives way to the sun as the morning
progresses. Due to the cooler mornings now, I go outside later. I wait for the
temperature to warm a little and the dew to dry more on the grass.
The season is winding down. There’s less deadheading to do.
The lilies have one more blossom and the hibiscus not many more. The rose of
Sharon still has a few buds. The cosmoses have quite a few buds, too, but the
stalks are all turning black. I’ve already cut a lot back. The daisies are mostly
cut back except for the leaves.
I can’t help but see something to change during the early
daily walkabout to check the gardens. As the plants grew throughout the summer,
some now need to be divided. The foliage overtook pathways. Things shifted, and
now that the deadheading is almost over, my gardening time is spent in coming
up with new ideas.
Creating gardens on this property has been a challenge
because the land was built up with fill and rocks. Roots, mosses, and various
grasses have dug in making digging difficult. But I manage a little at a time,
sometimes getting help from friends and neighbors which I appreciate.
The new plants are the tall ones at the top of the photo |
The other day I was given some taller than me plants (she
thinks they’re helianthus) and because they seem to be a wildflower like
black-eyed Susan’s, I decided to put them in the garden near and parallel to
the road. I’m not sure they’ll blossom this year, but they should come back
next year.
A couple days later, after deadheading, I decided to set a
couple more stepping-stones more solidly in the ground along the front of the
house. (I’ve been setting them on top of the ground until I decide exactly
where to put them.) Now that plants are matured for the summer, the original
paths I’d started are crowded. I don’t like brushing against plants to get by.
Right now, I have to squeeze by the false indigo, and two
steps farther, in the middle of where I have this current path, is one of the
original azaleas that was here when I moved in. There are four, none of which
have done much in the four years I’ve been here, and they took a beating this
past winter which flattened them out – but then, Leo helped with that. I’ve caught
him sitting in the middle of the plants. (What’s with that? I’ve never seen a
cat do that before.)
Plant on the left is the azalea I moved |
I decided to move this one to the new stump garden. This way
I could continue the path. I got the shovel and dug all around the plant. Thankfully,
the roots weren’t deep, and I was able to pry the shrub out of the ground (do
you still call it a shrub when it’s a tiny thing?)
Turns out it was wider than tall, and it wasn’t easy
carrying it to its new home. But then came the hardest part of the job –
digging a new hole twice as wide and deep as the roots. The ground of this new
garden, in front of old stumps, is full of roots and the soil is hard and
rocky.
I pounded and pounded with the shovel. It took a lot of
effort to break through that root and get the hole just barely big enough. Yeah,
it probably needed to be deeper and wider, but I’d done all I could. I squished
the roots in the hole and held the plant as upright as I could while I filled
in the hole. It’s now not as flattened as it was in its original place, and it actually
looks happier.
I took a break to research dividing or transplanting false
indigo. What I read said these plants do not do well if moved. I guess I should
be thankful I was able to transplant it from Bradford when I moved here. I love
this plant as it was one my mum and I chose together, and I don’t want to lose
it. What I can do is cut back some of the stalks that are too near the path.
This will leave the majority of the plant intact. It’ll all get cut close to
the ground before winter.