September's Song

Hummer drinking from
the honeysuckle on the arbor
It is that time of year when the gardens begin to change, when perennials begin to slowly prepare themselves for winter's rest. Sunlight is now angled low across the woodland gardens. It is romantic light which illuminates the gardens in warm hues and throws shadows which camouflage imperfections like airbrushing the landscape.

I like to sit on my favorite garden bench in the late afternoon and study the light while the squirrels and birds play among the cedars, some looking for bulbs and peanuts they have long ago hidden. I am sure the squirrels are anticipating their next treasure hunt. Soon we will plant more groupings of hardy dwarf tulips, muscari, and crocuses. They view crocuses much like my husband views molten chocolate cake!

Last year we found ourselves deluged in early winter rains before we had finished planting the fall bulbs. Bags of tulips and daffodils were placed in the garage inside their darkened bags until late February when we remembered them. Sure that we still had 6 weeks of cold weather ahead we pulled them out and planted hundreds of bulbs in several huge garden pots instead of digging the cold winter earth. April brought masses of color and a valuable lesson - we will do the same thing this year. Using pots for tulips keeps the gardens from looking so messy when the blooms are spent. Pots are easy to remove to a secluded area in back where no visitors go. We still have daffodil bulbs in the gardens which have naturalized and return each year so the springtime landscape will continue to be sprinkled in gold and the spattering of red from the few tulips which also remain.

Soon we will be making an annual trip in search of fall color. Sometimes we drive along the Skykomish and Wenatchee Rivers in the Cascades where one of the rivers is only a few feet from our car; other times we travel along Puget Sound from Skagit County to Bellingham through a variety of elevations overhanging the water. One of our favorite drives is south to the Columbia River Gorge in Oregon where shades of yellow and gold seed the shoreline in shimmering threads of light. Along the winding fjords color mixes with the emerald fir trees as the river rolls across its rocky path between the craggy cliffs.

Until autumn splashes vivid colors throughout the landscapes of our city, I will spend a few more weeks enjoying the summer gardens, looking through the photographs of our summer bounty and recalling the moments when we welcomed every bloom with open hands and hearts. The rewards of hard work and our intense love of nature's mysteries keep us busy in spring and summer. In September we rest a bit, smell the burning wood, bake apples, enjoy the purple asters, take evening naps under warm throws, and remember...


"The winds will blow their own freshness into you,
and the storms their energy,
while cares will drop away from you
like the leaves of Autumn."
John Muir
Click on each photograph below to enlarge the image.

The Steller's Jay below, the cobalt blue bird with the black crested head,
has been summering here for 5 years. He was born on the property.
When he was young he rode around the gardens on our shoulders and heads and ate peanuts from our hands.He even knocked on the glass door to come inside, once slipping in and stealing something white which I could never identify!
Here is a photograph of his most recent offspring, not quite fully feathered.
We are always eager to see our Steller's Jay each spring!
While he is less tame now, he still follows us around the gardens,
sits with us when we are planting, glides low to get our attention,
and responds to our voices.

All photographs are from our personal collection and may not be used without explicit and written permission.

Just the Goldfinches and Us

When I gaze upon the ocean and find the blending of color as water meets sky I often feel suspended in time and space. No other thoughts distract me when the ocean speaks her rhythmic language. I am completely still in that moment, content with the way my body responds to the soothing sensations moving through me. And so it is that we are compelled each July to make one of usually 2 annual trips to the Pacific Ocean. We need this retreat where we live only in the present, where life becomes simple again, filled with sensual pleasures. It is not often that we are guided so perfectly by sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch.

The central Oregon coast with her alcoves of natural wonder always delivers the ultimate visual pleasures. Driving south we explored old, familiar sights. Boiler Bay reminded me of our first trip to this central coast when my husband sat on a fence overhanging the Pacific while I photographed him. As we headed to Depoe Bay we noticed harbor seals lounging on the shore at Otter Rock. Sometimes they look as if they are smiling at us; other times a face will remind me of a shocked Casper, the ghost, the cute cartoon character from my childhood! We chuckled at these adorable faces seeming to express emotion. They lolled on this cloudy day, sprawled in all directions, each taking rest from the work of swimming and avoiding natural predators.

We crossed paths with our first Muscovy duck in a pond near the beached seals. Quite unattractive with his bright red wattle and large nasal opening in his beak this duck with black, blue, and white mottled feathers was nonetheless fascinating with his strangely textured red beak and head . We called him a turkey-duck for lack of knowing what he truly was. We hurried along. We had heard that Newport's Nye Beach planned a clambake, and we hoped to find clams covered in seaweed and baking in a deeply dug pit on the beach. Upon our arrival we decided to find a good seafood restaurant instead - the clams were being replaced by hot dogs! It seems in our lazy state of mind we were rather late for lunch! Sitting in a restaurant overlooking the sea I drank a frozen Margarita as we waited on our lunch and watched the fog dance across the elevated crags of the nearby shoreline. The deep mossy green of vegetation was easily contrasted by the orange raw edges of earth eaten away by wind and sea. Vaporous fog swirling across the tops of the headlands lent a mystical atmosphere to this scene and kept our attention until lunch was served. At that moment nothing competed with the grilled salmon covered in champagne butter over bay shrimp risotto (mine) and wild mushroom ravioli with a tomato cream sauce, reggiano cheese, and threads of basil (his). Freshly baked bread and butter and grilled broccoli with cheese sauce completed our meals.

Drizzly rain began to fall just in time for the 4th of July firework display, but we were happily ensconced inside a fancy restaurant on Siletz Bay, the area from where the display would begin. Dinner was delicious in this restaurant which offers a full view of the bay through its wide glass windows moving along the semi-circular wall. Residents whose homes also line the bay joined in the celebration and shot their own fireworks from locations all around us. Flaming colors lit the sky in every direction! Even the servers were mesmerized. When we returned to our room we found a few guests at the hotel busy shooting their fireworks across the Pacific Ocean from bunkers they had dug in the sand. This is a favorite beach activity every July 4th and never seems to draw attention or penalty from the local police even though it is against the law. Since tourists heavily feed the local economy we assume they ignore the infractions. I was glad the rain had come late in the evening. The smoke from the fires built along the beach were noticeable from our balcony before we left for dinner. By the time we returned everyone had gone inside but the firework enthusiasts.

Driving north the following day we followed the scenic drive of the 3 Capes leading us to Cape Kiwanda, Cape Lookout, and Cape Meares. We have driven north before but had only been along part of this coastal route once when we followed Hwy 101 from Tillamook to the northern beaches in 2004. This time we picked up the route much earlier and saw jet skiers splitting waves in the heavy white foam of an active sea at Cape Kiwanda and Tierra del Mar. Headlands of tightly packed orange, sandy earth jutted out into the surf, and beachcombers gathered for picnics, wind sailing, shelling, and dog walking. There was an empty beach volleyball court beside the ocean front pub at Cape Kiwanda. Further north we found Oceanside, a small beach town with no city activity, but there was a beautiful home overlooking the Pacific which I would love to own!

Cape Meares with its lighthouse and 2 vista overlooks catered to some serious bird watchers who eagerly shared their knowledge of the birds inhabiting the area and roosting on boulders in the sea. The true GOLDEN egg of this trip, however, was Cape Lookout at Oswald West State Park. We had not seen it since 2004 when I stood at the same overlook so stunned by the view I could not speak. In high elevation along a curved Cape jutting out into the surf, the vista overlooks seem to place the viewers behind the waves which move in foamy curls to the shoreline. A backdrop of mountains rise behind this coast, and Tillamook Bay can be seen off in the distance. This is one of two of the most beautiful seascapes on the Oregon coast. The other is just south of this place, a short distance from Cape Kiwanda where an overlook offers views north to Cape Lookout. (See photograph in header above.) Both of these magnificent scenes touch the senses in such a deep place that words become unimportant.

Seascapes were not our only entertainment. We did some bird watching on the Siletz River where American Goldfinches played along the banks. They are the state bird of Washington, but we always see more of them in Oregon than here at home! Often seals are seen swimming along these banks, but in the quiet of this early evening it was just the goldfinches and us. The morning skies were filled with colorful kites each day, kites which are difficult to fly. What happened to the ones of my youth, the paper ones shaped like baseball diamonds on light weight cross-bowed frames which were connected to twine we wrapped around a stick? Those flew with beautiful rag-tails sailing below them! They no longer exist! Now kites are high tech and require two hands and much steering! We had crashed ours into the sand more times than I could count during another coastal adventure so we are now kite-flying spectators. The beach always held surprises. In the stillness of a very early morning, long before the beach became alive with shell seekers and dog walkers, an artist sculpted a huge sea turtle from sand just outside our balcony. Creativity, nature's gifts, and playful strangers always kept our attention and brought joy.

Seafood became the delicacy of each day. In restaurants both old and new we ate salmon, halibut, petrale sole, razor clams, Dungeness crab, prawns, and Ling Cod, all prepared in a variety of delectable ways and served with grilled veggies. Never having eaten razor clams before we were surprised to find them the size of our palms! They were freshly dug in Tillamook Bay and our first taste insured we would eat them again! While in the Willamette Valley we stopped at the Tillamook Cheese Factory to buy several large blocks of cheese and to satisfy my husband's addiction to the freshly made ice cream they serve each day. My ice cream junkie made a 2nd trip to the area for a few more scoops before leaving Oregon!

As we drove toward Astoria where the great Columbia River spills into the Pacific I wondered about Lewis and Clark's trip, how they felt when they reached the mouth of this river and saw the ocean before them. Jetties divide these 2 bodies of water. They extend from the ocean's shore almost as far as the eye can see since the river is hugely swollen at its mouth. There is another place outside of Portland, the Columbia River Gorge, where I once wondered what Lewis and Clark thought as they paddled through the fjords. Mountains rise on both sides of the Columbia River creating a narrow, curving passage of extraordinary beauty as the river winds through the Cascades. I learned later that this 90 mile run of the Columbia was the most dangerous part of their NW trip and was filled with deadly rapids and wild water unlike anything they had ever encountered! There was little time to appreciate natural beauty with survival the central focus.

After we had delicious, grilled salmon (his blackened) in Astoria we crossed the Columbia River en route to Washington via the Astoria-Megler bridge, the longest continual truss bridge in North America (and perhaps the world). There was a break in Hwy 101 until it was built, so it completes the highway system traveling the coast from Canada to Mexico. Our drive along the river on the Washington side was lovely. It would have been even lovelier had we not gotten a speeding ticket (hubby) and a no-click seatbelt ticket (me) shortly after crossing! I had unbuckled to get some meds from my purse and had settled back in with my bottle of water, still unbuckled when suddenly we were hit by the laser. Guilty and caught in the act, a big, fat "two for one" for the nice, young state patrolman! We have applied for deferment, an option in Washington that allows you to pay the ticket but have the violation remain unreported to the insurance company as long as you have no other violation within the next 12 months. Fortunately, we let it go as we drove home watching a beautiful sun setting on the horizon where water joined the sky. Even a $240 fine was not going to ruin our glorious day.

All photography is from our private collection and may not be used or displayed in any manner without our explicit and written consent.

The last 3 images above in order from left to right:

Siletz River Snags, July, 2008

Sunset at Lincoln City, Oregon, July, 2008

Cape Meares Shoreline, July, 2008

That Yellow Balm Called Sunshine

Ocelot Bearded Iris
It was the coldest spring of my life. Well, except for that Saturday in May when it shot up to 95 degrees and burned the buds of our bearded irises after it burned my face. Spring flowers do not thrive in temperatures that high. We were all stunned here in western Washington. After that day it was cold enough for shawls and sweaters, and if you are especially cold-natured like my husband you wore your winter jacket most days and nights. The positive side of a cool spring is that the flowers stay on the stems longer and the colors are more vibrant. The negative side is that the plants don't grow quite as large and everything blooms more slowly. If you add in the heavy rains we had in early June you can expect some plant and stem damage. The weight of the rain falling on large flower heads often bends the stems to the ground. As a result, our bearded irises quite often fell flat. I rescued several stems which still bring golden yellows and purples inside the house in a bouquet mixed with canary yarrow. I missed seeing all the irises open together this year in their expansive wash of color in different corners of the gardens. There was no spectacular show of tall stems bursting into color along the walkway. We have waited a full year to see the various colors of the new irises we bought in Oregon last summer. We are still waiting for many to open.

I had wondered if the tuberous begonias we planted would rot before they could rise above the soil line. These are lovely in shady areas as an understory to ferns. They were impossible for me to grow in the hot, humid weather of Atlanta, so it is a treat to live in an environment well suited to these beautiful flowers. In the woodland gardens the mauve California mallow has opened her petals and is thriving in her new home. We found her near Schoolhouse Beach along the northern California coast and decided to bring her back to the Pacific NW where she lives happily among new friends: ligularia, hydrangeas, and hardy amaryllis and orchids.

Having worked in the chilled spring air for several weekends puzzle-piecing flagstone into a pathway through the woodland gardens, we recently decided to take a summer's day break on a sunny June afternoon. We traveled by ferry along Puget Sound to a couple of islands dotting the waterway. The sun warmed our shoulders as we traveled southwest down narrow, rural lanes exploring unfamiliar territory. We revisited Seabeck Harbor along Hood Canal, a beautiful old milling village which was once a vibrant seaport. Little is left but a conference center and a couple of community stores. Homes, many in the several million dollar range, are now perched above the shoreline overlooking the Olympic Mountains, the majestic backdrop to the salty, lapping water of the Sound. This place is one of my favorites of the western Washington shoreline. Scattered sunlight formed a haze across the horizon where mountains meet sky, draping the Olympics in a film that forbade sharp, clear photography. The truth of this astounding beauty would have to be told another day. As we ferried out to yet another island we saw seals, sunning lazily on bright red buoys, reminding us that sunshine, in correct proportion, can be a healing balm for most living things. We turned our faces to the warm air and headed into our next discovery.

The Spring Garden

Click on each photograph to enlarge. All photographs are from our personal collection and may not be displayed or used in any manner without our written permission.Collage above from left to right on each row: Blue Sky Columbine, Lavender Rhododendron, Black Barlow Columbine, Sappho Rododendron,Key Largo Rose, Purple Sensation Alliums, Darcy's Choice Bearded Iris, Midas Touch Rose

Five Dollars Will Buy You a Rainbow

Friday's sunshine lit my face leaving a warm tinge across my cheeks. I tossed my shawl across the back seat so the light could fall across my shoulders as we drove. We headed north into a beautiful spring day of blue skies, eager to reach the tulip fields in Skagit County. These fields are grown only for the bulbs which will be sold. One day they will be blooming in gardens across the country. We have been visiting these tulip fields for years, even before we married. It is a special occasion for us when we make this pilgrimage north.

This is the first year we could not have our annual picnic of delicious Dungeness crab sandwiches. The crabmeat is shredded across bread which has been drizzled with some kind of yummy relish spread. Plain, simple, and delicious. Reidel's, where we bought these sandwiches, has been torn down; the right of eminent domain toppled a store where we shopped every time we were in the valley. Yes, even Skagit county is growing. Busy lives demand wider highways for quicker access. Visitors to the tulip and art festivals in the area and those headed to Anacortes which sits west of Burlington on the water probably created traffic jams. Now we are unable to find the saltwater taffy, garden whirl-a-gigs, windchimes, homemade Chow-Chow, pepper jellies, and BBQ sauces. They are all GONE. Berry preserves, mustards, marinades, and salad dressings that once lined the shelves along the back of the shop can't be found in local stores. We must order Chow-Chow from Dillard, Georgia and pay for shipping. We had said Goodbye and were prepared for this void since we learned about the plan last year after a whale watching trip to Anacortes, but we were sad to see the stark asphalt now storing only highway equipment instead of hosting our favorite general store.

Even though it seems each year that there are less tulip fields than we once found in La Conner, we are always so stunned by the vivid colors which await us that volume seems insignificant. Snow covered Cascades rise in the background, and fields of tulips and daffodils dance lightly in the currents of air which move into the valley from the Sound. Flower pickers create bouquets for tourists to purchase at small stands near the fields. Five dolllars will buy you a rainbow. Photographers stroll along the paths, enthralled like we are with the colors and shapes. The way sections of color move into another is like waves in the ocean becoming one body of water. A wide pathway seems headed straight into the northern Cascades. Country barns decorate the distant fields, and large stands of trees and grassy meadows surround the purples, pinks, reds, and yellows. It is surreal. It focuses you on the magical gifts of nature. It compels you to come back each year.

Along the way we found a public garden across from one of the tulip fields and decided to explore. We were alone in the garden. In the stillness of the late afternoon we found a very old cherry tree with withered, tangled arms still pink with blossoms. Beyond it other trees leaned in odd angles to the ground, beautiful in their asymmetry. A wooden bench invited meditation and silent appreciation. Early blooming rhododendrons, tulips and daffodils were scattered about the garden. Pure serenity, a quiet treasure, this perfect gift of nature brought another perspective to the day's journey.

Springtime lights the country in magnificent colors, but the Pacific Northwest is remarkably radiant at the moment, and we love to watch her glow! Consider a visit and see for yourself.

All photography is from our private collection and cannot be reproduced or used in any manner without our explicit and written permission.
Photographs were taken in La Conner, Washington
in the Skagit Valley region of the state.

Before A Departure In Spring - Merwin

Before A Departure in Spring

Once more it is April with the first light sifting
through the young leaves heavy with dew making the colors
remember who they are the new pink of the cinnamon tree
the gilded lichens of the bamboo the shadowed bronze
of the kamani and the blue day opening
as the sunlight descends through it all like the return
of a spirit touching without touch and unable
to believe it is here and here again and awake
reaching out in silence into the cool breath
of the garden just risen from darkness and days of rain
it is only a moment the birds fly through it calling
to each other and are gone with their few notes and the flash
of their flight that had vanished before we ever knew it
we watch without touching any of it and we
can tell ourselves only that this is April this is the morning
this never happened before and we both remember it

W. S. Merwin



W.S. Merwin was born in New York City in 1927. His mother was orhphaned and eventually lost her brother and her first child; loss was prevalent in her life. His father grew up in an abusive home where violence was displayed. Sentiments of these influences are found in Merwin's work, especially in his early poetry. He grew up in Union City, New Jersey, and in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Merwin attended Princeton University and traveled throughout Europe working as a tutor and later found work as a translator. While living in England Merwin and his second wife, Dido, were friends with Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath witnessing both the disintegration of that marriage and Sylvia's dissent into suicide. He has resided all over the world, finally making his home in the Hawaiian Islands with his wife, Paula, whom he married in 1983. Merwin now works to restore his land to its natural state of native forest and practices Zen Buddhism in addition to writing and making public appearances.

The recipient of many esteemed poetry honors, awards, and prizes, Merwin is a Pulitzer Prize winner for Poetry and a past Chancellor of the Fellowship of the Academy of American Poets.

Photograph of Merwin taken at the University of Arkansas in 2007 by Johnathon Williams.

Around the Corner

February is always filled with surprises. Early in February chilled winds blow through our evergreens reminding us that winter is not finished with the Pacific Northwest. By mid-month we usually begin to see traces of sunshine again, days with bright, warm light filtering through the green boughs. Vitamin D in its natural form awaits me as I approach the courtyard of our home to bask in the light which for months has shone itself in someone else's gardens.

We spent some time in our gardens on Sunday, walking through to examine new growth, welcoming the green stems and leaves peeping through the mulch. A beautiful purple crocus had opened, the first of the season! Many others are close behind, and the lenton rosebuds should open within the week. Heather shimmers in pale pink and lavender throughout the gardens as it spreads in horizontal clumps.

We pruned the roses growing against the courtyard wall and were delighted to see the dwarf irises breaking ground in front of them. We love these tiny lily-like yellow flowers that bloom in profusion among hyacinths and tulips each spring. Our early blooming mauve rhododendron is budding. It blooms with the daffodils and the purple and rose tulips nearby making a beautiful lavender and pink swath across the front of the gardens. The silver gray leaves of the dusty miller, a perennial here despite our garden zone of 7, form beautiful contrasting color to the shades of pink.

I can hardly wait for the George Tabor azalea to bloom. I spent 1 full year trying to get this azalea along with its cousin, the purple Formosa, shipped here. They are grown in southern climates and are found no where here in the Puget Sound region despite the temperate winter climate we have. A local nursery was finally able to arrange shipment of both, a task made difficult by the strict shipping regulations mandated in the west in an effort to prevent Sudden Oak Death, a disease spread via woody stemmed shrubs. Only nurseries which have been physically inspected by the USDA and certified as compliant with regulations related to Sudden Oak Death are allowed to transport shrubs in and out of the area. I have enjoyed my George Tabor so much that I want 8 more and hope the local nursery can assist me once again. The blooms look like orchids, pink with magenta throats.

Our spring garden project will be to lay the flagstone pathway through the woodland garden area. We purchased the stone last year but found no time to lay it before the damp chill of late fall forced us to retreat to our recliners and fireplace. This pathway has its challenges since it winds among huge evergreens with tangled roots above ground in many places. Consequently, we will be unable to dig out the path and will have to lay it above ground and fill in around it with sand and mulch, raising the level of the gardens in that area. This pathway will lead to a bench on one side of the woodland gardens and to a seating area with a small table where we can have tea or late, summer morning breakfasts at the other end of the path.

Soon the palette of spring colors will splash itself across the landscape and move quickly through the cycles which bring summer to our home. Bulbs will burst open in shades of purple, pink, yellow, lavender, white, red, and blue. It begins with the L-shaped bank of the courtyard as the candytuft opens in white and joins the blue lithodora blooms. Beyond it a magical show will begin, first with primroses, lenton roses, daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips. Next we'll see the dwarf irises and hardy dwarf tulips open in yellows and oranges followed by the early rhododendrons. Daphne O'doro's fragrant white blooms will perfume the air as will the Tea Olive shrub we've planted in memory of my uncle. We are drawn to the aromatic fragrance and pause often to take it in.

Huge clumps of purple heather form a background to spring blooms,and later to the bearded irises. These irises, many 30 inches tall, will grab our gaze along the pathway as they line the walk along the sunny trail. In mid May the azaleas and rhododendrons will bloom in masses of pinks and purples throughout the gardens. One blood-red rhodie demands our attention, and we will admire it until its last bloom falls. In late May the hydrangeas will throw their huge mopheads along the pathway shadowing it in pinks, whites, and blues while tall stalks of Asian lilies reach 5 feet tall across the path. Finally the perennials, dressed in every color on the wheel, will burst open in a fiery colored river that moves along the rocks and fills in all the empty spaces in the gardens. These blooms mix with more silvery-gray dusty miller, clumps of blue fescue, and the silvered thin leafed lavender plants with their swaying stems of purple flowers. Rich, green ferns contrast the textures of the gardens and bring a lush, almost tropical look. No wonder we are gardening addicts! How could anyone resist such results? It is a quick fix for those of us who suffer the color deprivation of our long, drizzly winters. And, this show doesn't end until October!

Spring, we are ready for your renewal!



"Spring has again returned.
The Earth is like a child who knows many poems..."
Rainer Maria RilkeSonnets to Orpheus, XXI

All photography is from our private collection and may not be reproduced or used in any manner without our explicit and written permission.