rhodies

mist maiden

The dry shade of our woodland garden is not an easy master. I have learned that when a plant is labeled as "tolerates shade" it does not mean it thrives in shade. It means that it copes. Usually it becomes anorexic, clings to life for a couple seasons and turns to compost. I stopped expecting massive, showy blooms and became satisfied with mere survival. The ones that do pull through, grow at a glacial rate. It seemed that we always had room for more plants and I have been plugging in new ones every spring. I was a member of the local horticultural society and bought tissue-culture rhododendrons, tiny plant sprigs, a half-dozen at a time. This year we have finally gained some momentum and are getting a payout on our patience.

percy wiseman

henry's red

vinecrest

rolling in clover

The bright green of spring doesn't last long. Right now the leaves are still perfect; soft and as yet uneaten by the borers and miners of summer. A new carpet of lawn has been rolled out all over the dingle park and the shutters have been drawn on the ice cream stand below the tower. Jigs makes a beeline for it every evening so I have an excuse for finding myself in line for a double-scoop of cookies and cream.