Skip to main content

Late January blooms

Late January and the weeds are flourishing in my garden. It seems that they do best in winter when there's hardly any competition from the plants that the gardener actually wants to grow. I've been spending a lot of time lately digging them out, but so far I'm losing the battle. They grow faster than I can dig.

 Even so, it's not all weeds in the garden as we head into February. The garden is beginning to stir from its short winter nap and some plants are even blooming. 

My little Tazetta narcissus plants (I think this one is called 'Texas star') are just beginning to bloom. They seem to get earlier every year.

Not many actually have open blooms yet, but it's a start and enough to lift my spirits.

Seeing the flowers of the gerbera daisies always lifts my spirits.

And the little violas continue to bloom from pots around the patio.

The loropetalum is not in full bloom yet but it will be soon. Its fringy flowers reveal its relationship to witch-hazels.

I do like the sweet little flowers of the feverfew blooming by my back porch.

Out by the garden shed, the 'Peggy Martin' rose is getting an early start on its bloom year.

'Peggy's' cluster of blooms form a natural nosegay.

The Carolina jessamine is just beginning to wake up. Its flower buds are swelling.

This one is just about ready to open.

No flowers in the little goldfish pond. The water lilies are all resting now. All that greenery is just a reflection of vegetation around the pond, among some floating fish food pellets and a reflection of the bright blue winter sky. The goldfish provide the complementary orange as they bask in the sun.

 Spring arrives early and usually in a rush here. By this time next month, we likely will be seeing its clear signs. For the moment, the signs are beginning to show - we just have to look a little harder for them.  
Labels:

Comments

  1. JayneJanuary 30, 2019 at 2:47 PM

    Weeds (or at least Bermuda grass, as taken over our island beds too. I have nothing blooming at all. Lovely to see the color in your garden.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 30, 2019 at 3:31 PM

      Bermuda grass is insidious. It can take over a bed before you even realize it is there, regardless of the season. The war against it is constant and ongoing.

      Delete
  2. CarmenJanuary 30, 2019 at 4:31 PM

    Your blooms are a sight for sore eyes. Right now we're through snow squalls with almost zero visibility. Tonight and the next two days will be brutally cold. :-o

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 30, 2019 at 5:56 PM

      Stay safe and warm and be glad you are not in the midwest.

      Delete
  3. Arun goyalJanuary 31, 2019 at 11:32 AM

    Your feverfew is a delight to eyes,my narcissus could take another month to come into bloom..have a great weekend

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 31, 2019 at 1:05 PM

      The narcissus blooms on its own schedule, doesn't it? Well, all plants do, I guess.

      Delete
  4. Judy KruegerJanuary 31, 2019 at 11:55 AM

    I have a few things blooming: lantana, african daisies, and a couple of those little lilies. I have seen roses around town. I don't grow roses. I love them but we don't get along. Spring should be wondrous here because we have had a good bit of rain. In fact it is raining again today!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJanuary 31, 2019 at 1:07 PM

      Same here. We've had a very rainy fall and winter. Good for refilling the aquifers and so that the trees can drink deeply, storing moisture against the trial of our long, hot, and usually dry summer.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...
19 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...
6 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...
24 comments
Read more