Clover

The big one this week: clover. Around day #4 after planting, I noticed the tiny seeds bursting open, and wee green babes stretching out of their shells. I tried taking a picture every other day to capture the sequence of growth.

Rain has been, if not consistent, then at least frequent enough to keep the ground moist, as needed by the burgeoning clover. It is wonderful to let nature take point on flora maintenance.

Unfortunately, I’ve noticed the footprints of our mail delivery person (so much love to the workers of USPS), who takes a shortcut across my yard. It wasn’t a problem when the ground was barren, but the seedlings may not survive being crushed. Ideally, I would like to create a stepping stone path that is sufficiently winding for my whimsical tastes, while also providing a direct enough route for our guest. (Take note of dirt footpaths through grass, sometimes near sidewalk intersections, where multiple pedestrians often unconsciously create a more direct walkway, quite literally cutting corners. Effective urban planning requires consideration of human psychology and movement patterns.) If I am unable to devise such a course, I may need to block entry to the garden on one side, perhaps with a row of raised garden beds. To be determined.

Moss Phlox

At the front of the garden, the moss phlox is overall flourishing, with a great number of perky white flowers, as well as a few sections of brown, dry, dead stems.

Irises

We also have a mixed bag of success with the irises. My planted bed of new bulbs last autumn seems unlikely to bloom this year. It could be normal, with some irises not flowering the first year, but I strongly suspect the cause to be either insufficient sunlight or insufficient ground freeze this past winter. I’ll need to decide if I want to keep them in situ or move them out of the shaded area.

In the sunnier section of the garden, my transplanted irises are starting the bloom. The deep purple that seems to be coming in brings me untold joy.

Hyacinths

The nearby hyacinth flowers are decidedly dying, which whiplashed me into despair. But my neighborhood walkaround revealed this wilting to be naturally occurring among all the hyacinths at this time of the season. With any luck, we will see and smell them again next year.

Fig Trees

Death and desolation be here. The fig tree guru says that all of the parent plant had leafed out weeks ago, yet my offspring has nary a green bud upon the branch tips. Diagnosis: a lost cause. Bugger.

Tradescantia Zebrina

The inchplants, while severely depleted and sickly, are not entirely gone. This year I am pursuing new techniques, namely wind treatment and very active pruning. I trimmed sections from the dying plants, plopped them in propagation water, and placed those jars on a windowsill with the window open. I have high hopes that this new generation will grow thick and bushy. What luck that I have had the opportunity to fail, in order that I might learn and do better!