Monday, December 9, 2024

Collecting, and the art of noticing

A recent Garden Rant post by my friend Lorene Edwards Forkner had me thinking about the things I focus on when I walk, walks around the neighborhood, on a beach, or in a city we've traveled to. Chances are during that walk I'll stop to pick something up, occasionally it ends up in my pocket (sometimes it's not enough just to see it, I need to live with it too).

Lorene's blog post reviewed the book Still, by Mary Jo Hoffman: "STILL began as a daily project where Hoffman would photograph a piece of nature collected from the landscape surrounding her home in Shorewood, Minnesota, then post the image to her blog by the same name. That was January 1, 2012, and every day since has found the artist adding to her collection."

Reading those words I glanced to my left, at a collection of shells and beach glass from our outing to Port Townsend, WA, back in August.




More from Lorene's review: "The power of observation pins our attention, slows time, and grounds us in place. We are what we pay attention to, and what we pay attention to becomes a part of us. Hoffman writes, “What four thousand images (and counting) have shown me is that the daily discipline of looking at the world eventually becomes the habit of living in the world.”" 

Gerhard recently commented on one of my posts saying: “You manage to see things that most people wouldn't even notice,” I took that as a great compliment. 

This seedhead (from an Arisaema consanguineum) has been moving around the house for a couple months now. I'm still not done looking at it.
Ditto for this flat white rock from the trip to Port Townsend, along with the tiniest horse chestnut I've ever seen, picked up when I went to collect a plant (a rooted piece of Parthenocissus henryana) a local blog reader generously offered me.

This wooden dish holds eucalyptus bits I brought back from our recent trip to the Los Angeles area...


As well as the final "hairy balls" from the Gomphocarpus physocarpus I grew last summer, they've dried and split open to reveal their seeds.




I'm hoping to plant those seeds this spring and have a nice crop again next year.
In the corner of our dining room there's a built-in with 3-shelves where more found items I've collected have ended up. I did a selective purge a couple years back and took a flat of interesting things to Françoise Weeks (I can’t think of a better place for them to end up), but more have followed me home.

I picked up those ginormous acorns on a garden visit in Austin, TX, the banksia seed cones came from a visit to the Davis, CA, Arboretum with Gerhard.


That's one of our magnolia's dried seed cones, vintage matchboxes I bought in a Paris flea market, and a metal car that belonged to my uncle.

Also can't help but keep every protea flower I've ever purchased, they dry so well!

Dried leaves from Lyonothamnus floribundus ssp. aspleniifolius - Santa Cruz Island Ironwood.


I have a feeling this collection of dried and dead things (there is a jaw bone in there), might give some people the heebie-jeebies.

Yep, that's a dead dragonfly.

I've been stashing things in this ceramic planter for years now. I'm sure there's some forgotten treasures at the bottom.

On the left the dried seed head of the only bloom I ever got on my Pachystegia insignis (in the small brown vase), and a fluffy seed head from a clematis bloom, along with Andrew's artwork.

So what about you? Are you a details person? Do you find yourself stopping every few feet on a walk to admire something from the natural world? Are you tempted to collect these things? 

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All material © 2009-2024 by Loree L Bohl. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited and just plain rude.

Friday, December 6, 2024

The Story of Seeds, Unit Study Book No 152

I discovered this little booklet at a used bookstore in North Hollywood, CA. It's a shop Andrew always enjoys visiting, and they have a decent garden section.


I'm a sucker for vintage garden books and love ones with drawings, this one ticked both those boxes.







Have you ever seen a plant sprout in a bird's nest? I have not, but now I'll be paying extra attention.

I had a datura in a container on the patio at my house in Spokane, one of its big seed pods burst and I watched ants carrying the seeds away, down into the cracks of the patio. I'd hoped maybe they'd manage to store one or two of them in a place where they'd burst and grow in the spring. I don't know if it ever happened because I moved to Portland.




A sign in the woods that says "Do Not Pick"? 




I hope you enjoyed some of the pages from this little booklet as much as I did. It's now been passed on to its next owner, my friend Ann, lover of seeds.

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All material © 2009-2024 by Loree L Bohl. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited and just plain rude.

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Six rocks, three agaves, two palms...

Six rocks, three agaves, two palms, white gravel, lawn and some flat stone. Simplicity, symmetry. Low maintenance. 

Those palms, they're the only thing in alive in this planting. The agaves are plastic.

So is the lawn.

I saw this installation in a semi-rural location in the greater Portland area. It certainly stood out. I felt a little awkward about stopping to take pictures. But I had to, you know it was the agaves. I wasn't even certain the lawn was plastic until I got closer.
I thought about this a long while before posting. Here's the thing I kept coming back to, these folks have done something with the front of their property that must make them happy. That's better than not doing anything, isn't it? Do I hate fake lawn? YES! It's plastic for Gods sake, we do NOT need more plastic. Those agaves? Well, I appreciate they're agaves, but real live plants instead of plastic ones is always the better answer. 

Would it be better if the whole thing was an asphalt parking area? No really. I'm curious. If that was the alternative would it be better? We're not all blessed with the time to tend a garden. We're not all in love with watching plants grow and change and bloom and die. It doesn't look like these people are up for tending the real thing (although those palms are healthy and well cared for). They've made their statement, what's yours?

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All material © 2009-2024 by Loree L Bohl. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited and just plain rude.

Monday, December 2, 2024

My garden, now

We had our first frost early this morning with a brief low of 27F, it really is winter now (meteorological winter begins on December 1). I'm still trying to be better about embracing the garden in all seasons, so, to that end, here are a few photos taken at the end of November/beginning of December. We start in the front garden...

The always sexy bark of Arctostaphylos x densiflora 'Harmony', this is the most coppery in color of all my manzanitas...

Mahonia x media ‘Charity’ takes its job of feeding the hummingbirds very seriously.


Mahonia nervosa wins for fabulous cool-weather foliage color. That's another shot of A. x densiflora 'Harmony' in the background.

The Fuchsia procumbens has lost nearly all it's leaves, but there are many colorful berries left behind, I wonder how easy this plant is from seed?

Both Trachelospermum asiaticum ‘Red Top’ in my garden have colored up as never before. 

Myriopteris tomentosa / Cheilanthes tomentosa (I think? I get these dryland ferns mixed up). The texture of these fronds is like a million tiny pebbles glued in place.

The driveway plantings feel so bare to my eyes.

I was the lucky recipient of a bag of black mondo grass a neighbor had dug from her garden, so it's hanging out in the stock tank until next spring, when I'll plant it out around the garden.

Winter color of Schefflera (Heptapleurum) delavayi.

The upper back garden, as you walk past the schefflera.

 Looking to the left, Arachniodes simplicior 'Variegata'.

Rhododendron 'Ebony Pearl'

Hedera colchica 'Sulphur Heart', winter color.

This area along the back of the house has really benefitted from increased light after last winter took out parts of the Callistemon viridiflorus and knocked the Callistemon 'Woodlander's Hardy Red' back to the ground.

Athyrium niponicum ‘Godzilla’

That color!

Another painted fern, one whose specific name I lost track of a long time ago.

Edgeworthia chrysantha ‘Akebono’. The rest of those leaves (last year's) will soon fall but the blooms won't open until March.

The potted pseudopanax/carnivorous plants that filled the bench in the summertime have moved to protected spots, now it's all about the pyrrosia.

Behind the bench, Polygonatum kingianum.

Those little curly hooks send me, how cute are they?

There's fruit too!

Hakonechloa macra

Close-up of the previously mentioned pyrrosia...

Fantastic pyrrosia variegation.

Loquat (Eriobotrya japonica) blooms, another hummingbird favorite.

Looking over to the shade pavilion in it's greenhouse form.

The leathery leaves of podophyllum in their autumn colors.

The stems that held the flowers, and then the fruit, almost look like they might start moving about, like under-sea creatures.

Mahonia eurybracteata 'Indianola Silver' backed by small M. eurybracteata 'Cistus Silvers' and M. x media 'Marvel'.

And the golden fronds of Osmunda regalis wrap up this post.

If you happened to notice I didn't do my full "garden tour" posts this fall (it's an annual tradition), I just wanted to mention they're coming! I took lots of photos but haven't gotten around to editing them down. I think maybe January will be the time to look back at the garden that was.

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All material © 2009-2024 by Loree L Bohl. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited and just plain rude.