juneSCENE IN OUR GARDEN: A Farewell to August

A Farewell to August

The flowers on these hosta are a very light lavender color.

Their color doesn't show up so well in the photos.

This plant (I once knew what it was) is FILLED with buds!

Right now its flowers are few and far between...

The sedum and mum DWARF the blue bowling ball!

This mum may be one of the few I have that will bloom properly.

The others are awfully "leggy"...

These columbine seed pods stand with dignity--beautiful in their own right.

"August rushes by like desert rainfall,
A flood of frenzied upheaval,
Expected,
But still catching me unprepared.
Like a matchflame
Bursting on the scene,
Heat and haze of crimson sunsets.
Like a dream
Of moon and dark barely recalled,
A moment,
Shadows caught in a blink.
Like a quick kiss;
One wishes for more
But it suddenly turns to leave,
Dragging summer away."
- Elizabeth Maua Taylor

8 comments:

MariAugust 29, 2011 at 9:52 AM
It's sad to see August coming to an end. I see your sedum is starting. I do enjoy seeing that!
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Sunray GardensAugust 29, 2011 at 10:41 AM
Some beautiful choices. Your Hosta is looking fantastic for this time of the year and of course the Sedum is one of our most reliable.
Cher Sunray Gardens
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creekside rummagerAugust 29, 2011 at 12:49 PM
Amazing that fall is only a few weeks away. Your plants are still looking very healthy and fresh.
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RebeccaAugust 29, 2011 at 1:29 PM
...all thanks to recent rains and cool evenings.
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DeeAugust 30, 2011 at 7:40 AM
A beautiful farewell...
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tinaAugust 30, 2011 at 8:05 AM
You guys who got rain are so lucky! Your garden looks so lush for late August-soon to be September!
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AnonymousAugust 30, 2011 at 2:36 PM
Hello Rebecca .. you have great mums ! I don't like the leggy ones either so I have given up for a while until I find the right ones .. are those Halcyon hosta ? I have a few and they are really pretty aren't they ? I love the bowling ball .. it is a beautiful blue and blends in so nicely .. a quirky but very pretty touch : )
Joy
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Blu-I'd-BlondeAugust 30, 2011 at 8:49 PM
I remember my mom, a fantastic gardener, would pinch back the newest growth on each stem before they had blossoms, and they wouldn't get as tall and bloomed like crazy.
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To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony. William Henry Channing 1810-1884

Irises come in many forms, shapes, colors and sizes and the sword-like foliage is attractive when the plant is not in bloom. The genus Iris is a large genus of bulbous and rhizomatous perennials.

The Iris was named after the goddess of the rainbow because of its many colors.
A flower on the Sphinx is considered to be an Iris, and another appears on a bas-relief of the 18th Egyptian dynasty.
Pliny also knew the Iris and praised its medicinal virtues.
The Iris was also a favourite flower of the Moslems, who took it to Spain after their conquest in the 8th century.

Bought at a local plant sale, Spring of 2009 Feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium; syn. Chrysanthemum parthenium (L.) Pers., Pyrethrum parthenium Sm.) is a traditional medicinal herb which is found in many old gardens, and is also occasionally grown for ornament. The plant grows into a small bush up to around 18 inches high, with citrus-scented leaves and is covered by flowers reminiscent of daisies. It spreads rapidly, and they will cover a wide area after a few years. It is also commonly seen in the literature by its synonyms, Chrysanthemum parthenium (L.) Bernh. and Pyrethrum parthenium (L.) Sm.

I'D PICK MORE DAISIES
If I could live my life again
I'd be a little lazy
I'd stop this rushing to and fro
And stop and pick more daisies
Through all the lovely summer months
Though days be clear or hazy
No more to fret over tasks undone,
I'd stop to pick a daisy
Not so important what I did
This fact time now discloses
While running through life's garden green
I'd stop to smell the roses
If I could hold my little ones
The children in my care
I'd scold them less and love them more
With so much love to share
If I could pass this way again
Though folks might think I'm crazy
I'd work and worry less, but I'd
Take time to pick a daisy
The rush of life has passed me by
Now I have leisure hours
But time has taken such a toll
It's too late to pick the flowers.

Mildred F. Rowe

MEASURE YOUR HEALTH...by your sympathy with morning and spring. If there is no response in you to the awakening of nature, if the prospect of an early morning walk does not banish sleep, if the warble of the first bluebird does not thrill you--know that the morning and the spring of your life are past. Thus may you feel your pulse. (Thoreau)

"God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, but on the trees and flowers and clouds and stars." (Martin Luther)

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded." (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

The soul of a child is the loveliest flower
That grows in the garden of God
It's climb is from weakness to knowledge and power,
To the sky from the clay to the clod.
To beauty and sweetness it grows under care
Neglected, 'tis ragged and wild.
'Tis a plant that is tender, but wondrously rare,
The sweet wistfull soul of a child.

Be tender, O Gardener, and give it it's share
Of moisture, of warmth and of light,
And let it not lack for th painstaking care
To protect it from frost and from blight.
A glad day will come when it's bloom shall unfold,
It will seem that an angel has smiled,
Reflecting a beauty and sweetness untold
In the sensitive soul of a child.

...Author Unknown

Thy Word is like a garden, Lord,
With flowers bright and fair;
And every one who seeks may pluck
A lovely cluster there.
Thy Word is like a deep, deep mine,
And jewels rich and rare
Are hidden in its mighty depths
For every searcher there.

Thy Word is like a starry host:
A thousand rays of light
Are seen to guard the traveler,
And make his pathway bright.
Thy Word is like an armory,
Where soldiers may repair,
And find, for life's long battle-day,
All needful weapons there.

Oh, may I love Thy precious Word,
May I explore the mine,
May I its fragrant flowers glen,
May light upon me shine!
Oh, may I find my armor there!
Thy Word my trusty sword,
I'll learn to fight with every foe
The battle of the Lord.

(Edwin Hodder, Thy Word Is Like a Garden, Lord)