Osmocote Advertisement

From the Editor - MarApr 2018


I often worry that my neighbors think I’m lazy. Yes, they may see me on my hands and knees, covered with dirt, and they may see me mowing the lawn and dumping out bags of grass clippings, but more often they’re likely to see me just standing in front of my plants. Looking. Staring.

This begins around the middle of March when I venture forth daily to check if anything has broken dormancy. Rummage around the clump of lady’s mantle and there, by golly gee whiz, is a half-inch folded pale green leaf. Yes! The plant’s alive and already on its way to blooming in a couple months. And here’s a crocus. That shoot wasn’t here yesterday, but now it’s up at least an inch. Tomorrow, will there be a flower?

In summer you may catch me staring at the Home Run Red rose. This is a super hardy plant with flowers whose color changes ever so slightly after 24 hours. To see it in its full glory, you have to catch the blossoms on the first day they’re open. And then you hang around for a second (and third) look, mesmerized.

This November the best autumn color came from my blueberry bush with its red leaves that virtually glowed in the setting sun. Such a color. Unique really. So how could I do something mundane like go inside for dinner when there was such beauty still to be appreciated in the great outdoors? Stand and stare. Food could wait.

As the blueberry finally faded away, the ‘Gold Pillar’ barberries came into their own. They had been yellow throughout the growing season but the last week of November, their leaves turned a majestic flame red. I had no idea barberries could be so beautiful. Every plant has its 15 minutes of fame.

Your mother may have told you not to stare, but there are exceptions. A while back there was an article in the Sunday New York Times that included a passage about the Impressionist painters. “They were people who spent time staring, though the world tapped them on the shoulder with all the distractions of life,” wrote Taffy Brodesser-Akner (“Travel”, Nov. 26, 2017). “They stared and stared at a singular scene or object until they knew it well enough to interpret it. They stared until they understood it.”

In other words, the Impressionist painters were people who knew how to look. Can the same be said of us?

A new gardening year is beginning, and we will soon be surrounded by beauty, some of it even of our own making.

Of course we need to make a point of slowing down to smell the roses, but let’s also remember to give our eyes a workout. Look at what’s around you, then stop, and look again.

categories

popular

Article Thumbnail
Columns
Conference Call

PRESS RELEASE: The Mike Nowak School of Really Awesome Learning and Stuff (MiNoSoRALaS) announced that in anticipation of the …


Article Thumbnail
Blog
A Bulb Like No Other

A few days ago it was cool enough to go outside and see the red needles calling me. It was my fully open haemanthus, a ...


Article Thumbnail
Columns
Something is in the Eye of the Beholder

You know you’ve made it in the world when you have your own Wikipedia entry. There’s something about the bracketed phrase ...


Article Thumbnail
Columns
The Gardening Zone

You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of soil, a dimension of blight ...


Article Thumbnail
Blog
A Plant for Neatniks

You know who you are. You’re the gardeners who keep your lawn perfectly edged and weed-free, the ones who maintain an ...


questions

Can I grow asparagus from seed? I saved the little red berries from my plants.

I have a hoya houseplant that has been growing happily for eight years. It had flowers when I received it, but it hasn’t bloomed since. What am I doing wrong? Can I get it to flower?

I have two 20-year-old pine trees whose needles are turning brown on the west side of the plants. On the east side I have a compost pile.

I live in the St. Charles region and my soil is mostly clay. What is causing the browning? Should I get rid of the compost? How do I correct the damage?

ChicagolandGardening Advertisement