More garden photos

 

Arctic barren strawberry plant

Hosta stems forming 

Narcissus

Hyacinths

Scilla 

Grape hyacinth

Crocuses and alumroot (Coral bells) in front of birdbath and statues

Spring in my garden

I got an early start in my garden this year, after a rather amputated season last year due to my surgery. The weather has been cooperative for the most part, so I was able to start garden cleanup in late March. That involves clipping dead stalks and raking leaves; the former filled six large garbage bags, the latter ended up in the compost bin. You would think there wouldn't be that many stalks to be clipped, but there are. My garden is about 1000 square feet, so there are a large number of plants waiting for their spring trim. The garden refuse is taken to a nearby recycling station where it is processed into mulch and compost. Nothing goes to waste. The leaves that I've added to the compost bin will be soil when late autumn comes. 

April sees the blooming of snowdrops. I have spread bunches of them around the garden and they grow and spread like wildfire. They are so pretty when they bloom. After that come the scilla, crocuses and hyacinths, including the grape hyacinths (muscari) that are so lovely. And then come the tulips, forsythia and cowslip. I've also planted one perennial (arctic) barren strawberry plant (does not produce berries), which has lovely yellow flowers. I often forget where I planted tulips in previous autumns, so it's always a surprise to see where they turn up! They too multiply underground, like allium plants. 

I'm posting some garden photos from the beginning of April until now. Enjoy!

Snowdrops

Cowslip

Forsythia

Tulips

More tulips and magnolia tree behind them

Cherry tree 

Wisteria blooms forming 

Bergenia (aka elephant-eared saxifrage or elephant's ears)

Snapdragons, rose mallows, pumpkin and zucchini in the greenhouse

Gardening and my relationship with the earth

For most of my adult life, I have been searching for something to 'complete' me. I don't think I really reflected fully upon this while I was working. There were too many projects and deadlines and the like. In my free time, I wrote poetry, and when I look at some of what I wrote circa twenty years ago, I realize that I was searching for connection. Not with people, because that part of my life is fine, but with nature and the earth. That was sorely lacking. I was stuck indoors for most of the workday, five days a week. It's not as though I didn't get outdoors to walk or bike or just enjoy the sunny days that came our way; it's more that I had no personal connection with the earth. I was missing that in my life. It wasn't until I began to garden that I realized what I had been missing. 

There is nothing that makes me happier than working with the earth, in the literal sense (planting seeds and plants) and in the figurative sense (aligning myself with what the earth can and cannot give). People talk about mindfulness and how important that is in our age. It is. A garden offers many opportunities for mindfulness, from weeding for several hours to pruning bushes and trees, to watering what you've planted, and finally to harvesting what you've planted (if one has planted vegetables and fruit trees). There are many gardeners who dislike weeding. I am not one of them, although I wouldn't want to do it on a daily basis since it's backbreaking work. What weeding has taught me is patience and perseverance. Weeds persevere; they come back in every which way no matter how often you remove them. They're survivors and they adapt to the conditions around them. I understand that they need to be removed because they choke the life out of the plants they surround and intertwine roots with. I need only think of skvallerkål (ground elder in English, Aegopodium podagraria in Latin). It spreads like wildfire in the garden. But at the same time that I'm removing them, I'm marveling at their ability to survive and spread. I admire that ability in all plants that are designated as weeds. I would not remove them if they were not so invasive and threatening to other plants. 

I've written about gardening many times before, but that's because I am ever grateful for a pastime and passion that centers me. The world around me can be literally going to hell in a handbasket, but I am happily oblivious to that when I am in my garden. I am more concerned with what the garden needs to be happy. Most gardeners feel the same way. I know that my own lone voice will not change the world situation at present (many voices can do so, so I understand the need to participate and vote), but once I do my civic duty, I am free to pursue my relationship with my garden. I am free to put my hands in the earth, to see the earthworms moving about in the soil, likewise the little pill bugs that remind me of little armadillos. Little spiders have made their home in my greenhouse, and every now and then they peek out from behind a ceramic pot to see if the coast is clear (is she still here?). I love watching the sparrows chattering, singing and quarreling with each other, or taking common baths in the birdbath. Every now and then my robin friend comes for a visit; I wish he'd stay longer, but I guess he has other gardens to visit too. 

My relationship with the earth is multifold. It is with the earth, literally, with my garden, as well as with the life in the garden. I've learned to appreciate all life in the garden, no matter how small. Each living thing has its job to do. It's immensely comforting to know that. Their purpose is by design, and I tend toward believing that it is a divine design. When you look at the intricacies of garden life, how everything is interwoven with everything else, it's hard to believe otherwise. 

My little garden friend

I've been feeding the birds in the garden for the past two weeks. It's gotten harder for them to find food. There hasn't been any snow, but it's been cold and frost has formed on the grass, plants, and bench, and the ground has become quite hard. 

Last year around this time, I became aware of the presence of a sweet little robin, a European robin. They are much smaller than their American counterparts. He would fly to the bird feeder while I was filling the holders with seeds, and just sit there, watching me. Sometimes he was an arms-length away from me. He was curious about me and unafraid. If I moved to another part of the garden, he would fly to where I was and watch me intently. It seemed as though he and I were to be good friends. But then my life took another turn. 

My last visit to the cold winter garden was in mid-February, after which I battled influenza and then had surgery for a faulty cardiac mitral valve. I didn’t return to the garden until late May, by which time the birds were finding their own food, so feeding them was no longer necessary. Still, I kept feeding them. My little robin friend did not show during the summer or autumn months. But I kept hoping he would. 

One day last week, he suddenly reappeared, and it was as if he had never left. He perched at the feeder, patiently waiting for me to finish filling it. When I sat on the bench in front of the greenhouse, he flew over to be close to me, strolling across the frost-tipped grass near my feet. Then he hopped onto the bench and let me take a few photos of him. Here's a photo of him posing. He's a cutie. 

Garden update

I've been working in my garden since mid-May. I tried doing garden work a couple of weeks after I came home from the hospital in mid-April, but I became dizzy and had to stop. Now, almost three months after my operation, I'm back to working in the garden for hours at a time. But I take precautions--sun umbrella up, wearing a hat to protect against too much sun, drinking a lot of water and resting when I get tired. We've had intervals of sun and rain, which has been very good for the garden, especially the berry bushes. There will be good harvests for black currants, gooseberries, raspberries, and strawberries. I've planted a cranberry bush that is thriving, and my Norwegian blueberry bushes are also happy. The American blueberry bushes, less so, so I ended up transplanting them to a sunnier location. 

Yellow loosestrife has overtaken a large area of one of my perennial spaces. I cut it back but it just keeps on coming. It's beautiful, but I need to keep it in check or else it will take over the entire space. That seems to be my job this year--keeping growth in check. Everything is doing well and I can't complain. But maintenance of the garden keeps me busy. I'm very glad that I decided to aim for a (mostly) perennial garden, because I don't have to worry about buying a lot of annuals each year. The bushes that have grown the most since I planted them three years ago are the forsythia bushes. I cannot believe how large they've become. Ditto for the lilac bush. And of course the ninebark bush, which resembles a tree at present. I could clip it right down to the base, and it would grow back happily. I don't do that though; I clip a number of branches to keep it in a certain shape. And the Japanese maple tree is thriving as well, which makes me happy; it is so lovely. 

The wild cherry tree that decided to take root from seed in my garden (I didn't plant it) has grown quite tall. It produces sour cherries, but not as many as the cherry tree I bought and planted. The birds (blackbirds, brown thrushes, sparrows) are eagerly waiting for the red currants to be ripe; each year it's a contest between humans and birds to see who gets the most red currants. Last year, we managed to pluck half of the berries, but the birds got the other half. They don't seem to go after the other berries as much. I don't know why. 

My garden is thriving, if a bit overgrown in places. I like it that way. It's as though I enter my own private secret garden when I arrive there. Except for the formal garden entrance (an arch covered with white clematis), the other three sides of the garden are 'walled-in' by growth along the street fence, tall raspberry bushes, and black currant bushes plus a 'krossved' (Viburnum opulus) bush.

Here are some garden photos from May and June.......enjoy!

Beautiful wisteria 

Japanese maple

Irises

Rhododendron

Ninebark bush

Blooming peony plant

Loosestrife 

This is me (wanting more plants)

 

Making friends with a little robin

One of the best things that ever happened in my life so far was being gifted an allotment garden in 2016. It changed and enhanced my life in so many ways that I never thought possible. I always had an appreciation for nature, for plants and flowers, and for birds and the wildlife around us, but I never had daily contact with them in the way that I do now. As many of my readers know, I have a soft spot in my heart for honeybees, bumblebees and birds of all kinds. One of the images that will forever stand out in my mind is the memory of the honeybees and sparrows side by side on the birdbath rim, drinking water together during a particularly dry Oslo summer (2018 if I remember correctly). I have captured those incredible moments in photos that I treasure.

Fast forward to the present. I have written about the new bird feeding station that I bought for my garden so that I can feed the birds during the winter months. I go to the garden every couple of days now to fill the different feeders. It didn't take long for the small birds to discover the feeding station; after a couple of days, they are waiting in the tree branches for me to fill the empty feeders, that's how fast they eat the seeds. The little birds that frequent the feeders are the sparrows, the blue tits, and a singular robin. The robins that you see here in Norway (European robins) are much smaller versions of their American counterparts, and they are amazingly cute. I read online that it's usually the male robin who stays put during the winter months at the location where he and his mate hang out during the summer months. So I'm assuming this little guy that I see each day is the male; I don't know if he has a mate and where she may be if he does have one. In any case, I'm becoming friends with him little by little. He is not afraid of me at all. Today, when I arrived to fill the feeders, he landed on one of them right in front of me and proceeded to start eating. He looked at me, then at the food, then at me, and then at the food again. He is the first one there when I arrive, and if I move away from the feeder to another part of the garden, he follows me. He is just so freaking cute. When I was in the greenhouse today, he was in the ninebark tree to the left of the greenhouse, just sitting in the branches. When I started to talk to him, he started to warble. I have heard his song before in previous springs, and I have seen this little guy before because he has been hanging around my garden for a couple of years. I'm glad that he chose my garden in which to hang around. 

Here's a very short video of him:

My early July garden

I'm happy with my garden this year--happy with the way it looks, with the different plantings, with the perennials that have now grown high and wide. The latter take up space and fill in the gaps. I will probably need to divide some of them next year. Despite a chilly and rainy June, the garden is thriving. That's because it got off to a good start during May when it was warm and sunny. By warm I mean temperatures in the mid-70s. The pumpkins are the only plants that have been slow to grow. I doubt there will be many pumpkins this year, but there will be a good amount of zucchini, potatoes, and garlic. I tried two different kinds of garlic for the first time, and the plants are doing well. We picked a lot of strawberries and we'll have a lot of raspberries, gooseberries, black currants and red currants. I'm especially looking forward to harvesting the black raspberries; they always take longer to ripen than the regular red and yellow raspberries. 

As far as flowers go, I experimented a bit and put together flowers that I might not have put together otherwise. I cut down on vegetable growing since our growing season is so short, and used the extra space to plant an allium garden, which the bees love. I also planted astilbe, anemones, cornflowers, dahlias, lilies, sanvitalia, and rose mallows in the vicinity of the allium plants, and bladder campion flowers (wild) have grown up in the vicinity as well. It's a nice mixture of different flowers. Plus I had planted loosestrife a few years ago, and it has just taken off, so I'll have to control its growth in the coming years. But it's lovely. 

My garden is my happy place, and it's where you'll find me most days when the sun shines. Here are some recent photos......

the beautiful loosestrife

black raspberries growing in a cluster 

From winter to summer, just like that

We're now in summer mode here in Oslo, even though the summer season hasn't officially begun. All it takes is a few warm days when the sun shines brightly and the temperatures hover around 70 degrees F as they have done for the past few days. That's the signal for everyone to exit their apartments in order to be outdoors. Restaurants, cafes and bars with outdoor seating are packed and the lines of people waiting to be seated are long. 

I always enjoy this time of year--May and June--because those are the months when my garden takes off. Up until around two weeks ago, we were still experiencing chilly winds and chilly temperatures. And then suddenly, whoosh, they're gone, replaced by warmer temperatures that define summer in Norway. We rarely if ever get temperatures in the 90s, nor is it very humid here. That's good in one sense, because even though summers in New York were/are warm, they could often be brutal due to the humidity that made it hard to breathe. My family and friends in NY keep me updated on the weather there, among other things. Interestingly, we've had similar unstable weather patterns this year, especially in April--some chilly and windy days, followed by warm days, then chilly again. It's rained more there than here; last year we had a very wet July and August. We'll see what this year brings. 

I worked in the garden for the entire month of April, cutting down dead plants, pruning the fruit trees, cleaning and raking. I did some planting as well (potatoes) as well as starting seeds in the greenhouse. I'm always amazed each year at the miracle that is a garden. The perennials return at the same time every year (hence their name); you see the new growth amid the dead stems that have been cut down very low. The snowdrops, crocuses, daffodils, tulips, hyacinths and forsythia make their appearance in April and usually bloom until around mid-May. The forsythia bushes are now turning green. The magnolia tree is blooming, and I see buds on my wisteria. This past week I planted my zucchini and pumpkin seedlings outdoors; so far they're doing well. Night temperatures hover a round 45 degrees F, which is fine. As long as there is no frost, they'll survive. 

Here are some recent photos of the garden. Enjoy.......

Snowdrops are the harbingers of spring

I can't wait for this miserable winter to be finished, done, over, caput. Hopefully it will soon be a distant memory, once spring comes and I can return to my garden. Today is a beautiful sunny day that reminds of spring. In the garden, the harbingers of spring are the humble snowdrops--so beautiful. It will be a while before they pop up in the garden (most of the snow has to melt first), but they don't seem to mind the chilled ground. 

I'm posting a a very nice little poem about snowdrops and a photo of them that I took some years ago. 

Have you heard the snowdrops ringing

Their bells to themselves?

Smaller and whiter than the singing

Of any fairy elves.

–Sydney Thompson Dobell (1824–74)

Autumn garden update

Autumn is upon us. In truth, it was already upon us at the end of August in terms of how the garden behaved at that time. The pumpkins, potatoes, and tomatoes were finished growing by then. I've never had pumpkins turn orange that early; they were however quite small. I think the plants understood that there had been too much rain this summer and not enough warmth and sun. In order to grow in size, vegetable plants need warmth and sun. Not this summer.

The perennials and annuals did well, however. I'm not even sure why, because we had so much rain in July and August that I felt sure that there would be a lot of root rot, problems with mold, and other similar problems. There wasn't. Of course I'm very happy about that. The flowers grew quite high and seemed to do quite well. Go figure. Every time I think I understand how it all works, I understand that I don't. The old adage is true--you learn something new every day.