Hypertufa

I had a combined Mah Jongg-Hypertufa party on July 1. My buddies made planters while I made a tabletop. I did try to make a planter following a Martha Stuart recipe because I wanted a large planter with a basket weave surface: I bought an old wicker hamper at a yard sale and wrapped it with duct tape and created a foam insert as a form. It was difficult to make the walls uniform as I pushed the cement/peat moss/perlite mixture around the hamper interior. Although I know the curing of cement is a chemical process and cement can cure underwater, I saw a marked difference in the curing of the planters vs. the curing of the duct tape-wicker-foam sandwich. End result is my hamper planter never attained any robustness and crumbled into bits. But my table top is fairly gorgeous and I hope the edges grow moss. Actually, I may attempt the yogurt moss blender method to expedite the growing of moss. Of course, that experiment has never worked for me the past five times I have tried it, but garden hope springs eternal.

Butterflies!

Yes, there are many bees and wasps and other miscellaneous pollinators in my garden, as well as a lady beetle (Did you know there are hundreds species of lady beetle in Maine? I have a poster in my classroom I can check tomorrow for the exact large number...). But these are the butterflies, my favorite visitors this week, aside from a spotted fawn. This is why the milkweed and the goldenrod and mint are invited to come and stay.

In order of appearance below: American Beauty, Fritillary on zinnia, Fritillary among daisies, Monarch on milkweed and Summer Azure on forget-me-not. Summer is very sweet for all of us.

I Can't See My Feet

I'm not complaining, I'm just saying: I can't see my feet, there is too much happening. Myosotis is blooming bright blue between the stepping stones along with white alyssum and I am careful to step over both. The Alaska daisies are four feet tall and white seems to be the current predominant color given all the daisies, yarrow, feverfew and chamomile.

Yes, there is also Rudbeckia, Artemesia, lambs ears and lavender, but it is the color white that repeats itself throughout. I took this next picture by the rain barrel just to indicate the height of it all. Two days of heavy rain and high wind has slanted quite a few stems in a catty-wompus fashion but the pollinators don't care. They enter the blooms from whatever direction necessary. You can also see the "garden" at the back of the house adjacent to the wild side which begins with a field of Comptonia.

My thrill for the coming week is to watch the Unknowns bloom and then identify them. I did sow at least ten packets of seed last May. I have come to believe the geese ate all the marigold seedlings but what about the cockscomb? the zinnia? I wander around spying clenched flowers buds with hints of color within and I think: "What are you?" Next week, I'll know.

Name This Plant

Buddies and I were walking in Fort Point State Park in Stockton Springs July 8th when we happened upon this plant which reminded us of Queen Anne's Lace on steroids. We tried using the Audubon New England Nature Guide App to identify the plant to no avail. We then tried the simple key on https://gobotany.newenglandwild.org/ and no items matched our description. Then we googled the phrase "giant Queen Anne's Lace." Aha! We made an immediate match - our plant is giant hogweed. Heracleum mantegazzianum, also known as  cartwheel-flower, giant cow parsnip, hogsbane or giant cow parsley is a plant in the family Apiaceae.  It can grow up to 14 feet high and have flowers that measure a foot across. The plant can cause painful irritation, permanent scarring and, in rare cases, blindness. It is phototoxic which means if you get the sap on your skin  and then expose the skin to light, you may have a  response resembling a third degree burn. Giant hogweed is on the federal invasive list. Next step is to call  the cooperative extension so the plant can be treated by professionals.

Lush-ness

When considering the glass half empty/glass half full debate, I am prone to say I am glad I have a glass. Therefore, I will not enumerate the many days of lower than average temperature this past April and May. And June. I am glad I have a garden. And the plants don't want a sweatshirt and a hat - they are getting taller and wider and greener with the extended Spring. Now the color begins.

The Progress of Seedlings and Cages

Do not be fooled by the white blurs in the background. Yes, there are white bags of yet-to-be-distributed horse manure. But the featured white blobs are sleeping geese. They are pretending to be bucolic. My network of lobster boat propeller cages and topiaries and wastebaskets keeps the geese at bay enough for Great Growth to occur. I thank the gods for the long photoperiod of Downeast Maine which, combined with the recently arrived warmth, grows my garden exponentially each day. Any seedling that is small however needs its own cage to survive.

Not Exactly Waiting

Knowing the forecast held three days of rain, I was active yesterday afternoon and this o'dawn planting my seeds. My perennials continue to thrill me in a very green way - everything in my garden is a shade of green. The weigela has buds, the peonies have buds. Yes, the ladies-in-a-bath and columbine are both actually blooming. But the blooms themselves are sparse and not photo worthy. There is not enough CONTRAST to qualify as color. Then I checked the mail. One side of driveway is spectacular with bunchberry. The other side of my driveway has hints of Indian Cucumber-Root with hundreds to follow. I love Spring. Oh, did you say it's June 4th? I say, "It's Maine."