I owe pictures from other days, all of which tend to blend together when you take pictures of the same kind of thing every day. I seem to remember setting a goal for myself to photograph something memorable each day. Were the zinnias that memorable on seventeen separate occasions? No. No, they were not. On the other hand, the idea of having a post devoted just to zinnias on a given day made more sense in light of another original goal: taking roughly 1 (one) picture each day. Ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaa. One. The upshot is, you have been and will continue to be bombarded with a ramshackle documentation of the same plants from bud to bloom to long, slow senescence.
Funnily enough, on July 15th, I only took one picture. And what a picture it was, too. That’s later in this entry.
July 13th pictures:
These are all from the shade garden and the regular garden next to it. (Oops, sorry to imply that you’re irregular, shade garden.)
An uncharacteristically pink echinacea
The bishop’s weed is taking a beating in this heat. There is a border of them in my shade garden and part of one of our hillside gardens in the backyard is consumed with them, and they are now consumed with brown.
The gardening side of me is sad; the picture-taking side is happy, because you know of my torrid photographic love affair with leaves that look pathetic.
I could say this picture was taken in the fall and this is one of those little spurts of life you sometimes get even in fall in this part of the world. But no, the crab apple is just losing leaves prematurely, and my love-in-a-mist is making infinitesimal progress.
I feel like this picture, more so than others I’ve taken this year, gets a little closer to capturing the “mist” effect implied by the name of the plant. It’s like a little cloud of bracts.
The milkweed’s seed pods are developing.
As always I am intrigued by the poppy seed pod.
Some of the echinacea develop quite strangely, with uneven color patches. Some develop one type of flower first, some, the other; some at the same time, like this one.
And sometimes the echinacea appear to have been cartwheeling through mud puddles.
This picture will have to be the soul testament to the ‘Blue Boy’ bachelor buttons, which reached their zenith almost sight unseen, hidden by the echinacea. I thought the buttons would get taller. Oh well.
I feel the urge to take pictures of everything I concoct that is more complicated than a bowl of cereal. I snapped this picture with that in mind and it ended up being the only picture I took that day. So now I am compelled to share it with you to make this journey complete.
I lied when I implied that the 15th’s was an exciting picture. Can you ever forgive me?
It’s a beet/barley/goat cheese/beet green salad. Take some beets. Nice if they’re fresh and have greens. Wash them, or don’t. NPR said you should eat more dirt (verbatim). So, be cavalier like that if they’re from your own garden and you don’t live on a toxic waste dump. Cut the beets off and stick ’em in a thing and fill the thing with water and put it in the oven for a while with foil on the thing. Take ’em out later and take the skins off. Meantime do some barley on the stove. Then take that off and dump this in a bowl and dump your newly chopped beets in and then rip up the beet leaves toss those in and then dump in some olive oil and then dump in some balsamic vinegar and then stir it together and then put it in the fridge. Then put some cheese on it. Like goat cheese. Then eat it. Eat all of it. I should have a cooking blog.
These are all from the backyard.
There is a corner overrun with globe allium, which irritates me a little as so many news ones come up every year and they’re a bit hard to get rid of. The flowers last a long time, though, and they look great in profusion. They also like quite pretty with some old rusty garden ornamentation.
Oops, something in the mesclun mix bolted. But the flowers are pretty, so it’s okay.
The anise is starting to bloom.
Hey, a friend.
Have you paid much attention to a snail’s face before? No? Why, just because it doesn’t really have one? That’s kind of nightmarish, actually.
One of the Chinese lanterns, gone before its time.
Another Chinese lantern, looking better.
Bee balm has something like a monk’s hairstyle.
They just have this halo of flowers left. A bit extravagant for a monk, admittedly.