Saying Goodbye to the Year of Weird

hibiscus flower in champagne

It wasn't my imagination, the weather stats bear it out, this year was weird. It was the second wettest year in Chicago history (at least since record keeping started in the late 19th Century). But the precipitation seemed to come in several large blasts: the February snowstorm that boasted the most snowfall in one day (13.6''), contributing to the season ranking third for most snowfall, the flooding rains of summer (count 'em, all three), with the heaviest single-day rainfall on record of 6.86" on July 23, gusts up to 90 m.p.h. in June, and the freak severe storm that left us without power for nearly a week in July.

there's a redbud under there somewhere

Then there was the blast furnace of July, with five consecutive days in the 90sF, concluding with 99-degree highs on the 20th and 21st, making this July the third hottest. As a grand finale, we had a warm fall and start to winter. And that's just the weather.

In the garden, more poppy seeds than ever germinated, but many got tracked to other parts of the garden, including one that ended up in the Nanoprairie.

Papaver somniferum and Penstemon 'Pike's Peak Purple' July '11

That will not happen next year; I'm sowing all the seeds into containers. They also were not what I expected, lavender singles rather than double black, not that I'm complaining....

Then there was that wacky Colchicum 'Zephyr' 'Poseidon' that decided to bloom in spring

April 16, 2011

and again in fall.

Well, I'm out of time, so I'll just wish everyone a Happy New Year.

On Snowdrop Watch

It happens every few years, the snow doesn't come, the ground doesn't freeze, and the Galanthus elwesii, the giant snowdrop, begins to bloom early. It has been unusually warm recently, with highs in the 40sF, with occasional days of highs in the 20sF. Up and down, flirting with the melting/freezing point goes the thermometer, confusing the poor plants. But Galanthus don't mind. They do what they always do, only now, there's no snow to conceal buds transforming to blooms. Any day now...

A New Bird

Happy Boxing Day! As you probably don't recall, I got a heated birdbath for Christmas last year. It worked for about two months, then mysteriously gave up the ghost. I debated about putting it up this winter without the heater working because I want to attract birds to my garden. I can't put up bird feeders because the squirrels always tear them down. Well, conundrum solved -- I got a birdbath heater for Christmas, so hopefully this will be more durable and last at least one winter.

This aberrantly warm December has meant lots of bird activity in the garden, even without a birdbath. One foggy morning, I noticed a flock of birds in one of the trees. I suspected they were starlings (boo!), but with a smidge of optimism, I got out my camera to photograph them through the zoom lens to determine whether they were.

I got a very pleasant surprise; instead of starlings, they were Cedar Waxwings.

I'd never before seen a Cedar Waxwing, much less had a flock of them visit my garden. Singly and in pairs,

they swooped down to the crabapple tree to munch on the shriveling fruit.

The flock has since moved on to more abundant pickings, leaving the few remaining fruits to the more desperate of the squirrels.

Cedar Waxwings are year 'round residents of Illinois and most of the northern United States. They eat only fruit. According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, "Because they eat so much fruit, Cedar Waxwings occasionally become intoxicated ... when they run across overripe berries that have started to ferment." Had I know this at the time, I would have stayed to see whether any of them were guilty of FWI (flying while intoxicated).

Christmas Wishes

May the season bring you sweet memories.

May you be filled with childlike wonder at the beauty of life.

And may the season of new hope shine its light upon you.

Wishing you and yours the best,

Spiky Frost: a winter meditation

Cotinus coggygria 'Nordine'

Malus 'Prairiefire'

Eupatorium 'Phantom'

Daphne burkwoodii 'Silver Edge'

Cornus alba

Panicum virgatum 'Northwind'

December Bloom Day '11

The little Fuchsia I've managed to keep alive for several years now is back in bloom, just in time for Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, hosted by the ever-inventive Carol of May Dreams Gardens. We're experiencing unusual warmth here at Squirrelhaven, with highs in the 40sF in recent days (54F/12C yesterday) and lows above freezing. The warmth comes too late for the garden, however, after a low of 9F/-13C with no snow cover last weekend. Consequently, we must look indoors for blooms.

This florist's Cyclamen is a bit of a cheat. I just got it the other night. It had been a decoration on the stage for the girl's Christmas choir concert. The school asked parents to purchase the plants for the decorations, which could be taken home after the concert. My track record with this type of Cyclamen has been uniformly dismal. I'll enjoy it through the holidays, then it will probably need to be euthanized. The Amaryllis is still blooming and has a second bloom stalk that's nearly ready to open.

Outside this morning, I did manage to find one bloom.

the last pansy

Were this unusual weather to hold, there would be snowdrops for Christmas.

Galanthus elwesii

However, there's already a change in the weather, and the temperature is beginning to head back down to normal. Now I'm just hoping for a white Christmas.

Happy Bloom Day!

Mossy

The more I garden, the more I come to appreciate moss. Especially in winter, in the absence of snow, the moss beckons one to get down low and feel the verdant velvet. This is just a small patch in the garden, under a shrub. During the growing season, it rarely even registers on my radar, but now that the killing freeze has put an end to blooms outdoors, anything green and growing stands out starkly.

Once the kids' play set is no longer in use, I'd like to expand the bed to create a little moss garden there, with the above clump and other little patches of moss as the starting point. The little Labrador violets (Viola riviniana) need to be removed for the pure, mossy experience. Sumptuous, luxurious moss, that appeared on its own, requires nothing of me beyond weeding.

Coyote Hungry

"Come here, look at this," urged my husband. It was bitterly cold Saturday when I rushed to his side at the patio door. "Is that somebody's dog ... or is that a coyote?" I confirmed that it was, in fact, a coyote. Despite coyotes making their home in the nearby forest preserve, I hadn't seen one near my house in a long time. What made this sighting even more remarkable was that it was during the day and the coyote wasn't just passing through. Instead, we watched a small drama unfold.

The coyote circled the frozen pond on the neighboring common area,

then approached the drainage pipe.

After investigating the interior,

the disappointed coyote gave up and left around the other side of the pond.

I suspect that this coyote ventured this far into the neighborhood because the cold was keeping everyone inside. Coyotes generally stay away from people. Coyotes have adapted to suburban and urban environments, and have even been spotted on the streets of Chicago. Coyotes have spread across the country eastward, filling the niche created by the extermination of wolves. Most of the time, coyotes co-exist well with people, especially if people take reasonable precautions, such as not leaving food outside and supervising young children and small pets, even in a fenced yard. However, when coyotes become accustomed to people, they can become aggressive and even attack small dogs on leashes. It is only when they lose their fear of humans that they become a problem and need to be trapped and killed.

Fortunately, I don't have small pets or small children, so I welcome the presence of coyotes. They eat rabbits, voles, squirrels and even deer. Sadly, the Squirrelhaven squirrels were conspicuous by their absence on Saturday, and the coyote had to search elsewhere for its meal.

The End of Endless Autumn

the last of the Chrysanthemum 'Sheffield Pink'

With the flip of the calendar to December, it's now meteorological winter, but some plants refuse to acknowledge this fact. While this is standard procedure for the mum, and not a complete surprise for Geranium 'Bob's Blunder',

it is unusual for Campanula persicifolia 'Telham Blue'.

There even are a few buds coming along.

Demonstrating the impact of microclimates, Sutera a/k/a Bacopa continues with a profusion of blooms in the front porch pot.

The Sutera in a container on the front walk, just a few feet away, has already given up the ghost. This is the first time I tried this annual. Its incredible cold-hardiness has earned it a place in next year's containers.

But what is most strange about this year is evident from the following photo, in an existential problem sort of way:

note the complete absence of willow leaves. For the first time in recent memory, the weeping willows by the retention pond dropped all their leaves before snow covered the ground. I was able to rake them up, to the benefit of the back lawn. This pleases me greatly, as the sight of willow leaves on top of the snow just grates.

The last of the mulch has been spread, the ground is starting to freeze, and this week's forecast calls for lows in the 20sF every night. It's time to turn to indoor gardening and getting ready for Christmas.

I love that the same garden is different every year, with new surprises for me. Sometimes the surprises are more in the nature of a cold shock, but at least it's never boring. I wonder what next year's garden will bring?