A View From Robin's Nest
Planning a Garden
Robin’s Garden
The Months of a Garden Variety
Robin Hoselton
Anna Lee wants to visit me this summer to see my plants and flowers. An ex-work colleague, she’s heard enough over the years of my blathering about native plants and birds-and-butterfly flowers that she finally decided to see them.
I look forward to showing off my garden. Naturally, it’s a work in progress so Anna won’t get to see a “mature” landscape. It’s too bad she can’t come in April when the goldfinches at my feeders are such a cheerful sight.
She can’t come in May either when all the Daylilies will be a mass of blooms. And I’m sorry she’ll miss the fragrance of the butterfly gingers in June. Anna thinks she can come in July, but it will be so hot and muggy that it won’t be pleasant strolling through the yard. Of course, I have to explain the history and idiosyncrasies of all my plant children, like the hot pink geranium I rescued from someone’s garbage. That way she can garner full appreciation of each one. I don’t want her to get sunburned by the time we’re only at our 189th plant.
I suppose she could put it off until August. The pond looks good then since I no longer have to keep the net over it to catch the shedding tree blossoms, but last year we got heavy rains from a tropical storm in August. In September, I could give her sweet potato cuttings but she probably doesn’t want to be inundated with those invasive chartreuse leaves either. October might be a good bet although I’ll probably have a cluttered yard then. I always succumb to nursery chrysanthemums at that time of year but never succeed in overwintering them so chances are I’ll have pots of unplanted mums scattered helter-skelter.
In November, I’d be embarrassed at my litter. The neighbor’s sycamore leaves always cover my yard four inches deep and I can barely keep up with the raking. December is a messy month because I’ve lugged so many plants, like the mums, inside the porch for freeze protection. Other perennials are dormant in January and I don’t want her to see them when they’re brown and dead looking. She’s liable to think I killed them.
February is a lovely month since the scent of orange blossoms will be in the air and the kumquat tree will be full of orange fruit, but not much else will be blooming. March might be okay but, as I said earlier, if she waits just one more month, she’ll come in time to see the goldfinches.
The time of day makes a big difference, too. If she comes in the morning, she’ll miss the striking white moonflowers that bloom at night. And if she comes in the afternoon, she won’t see the vivid blue spiderwort which only blooms in the morning.
If she lived here, she could see everything at the most opportune time. My solution is to send her an e-mail: “Dear Anna Lee, when can you move in?”