Compost Is Pretty Too

Gardens are pretty.

Flowers are pretty.

Foliage is pretty.

A compost bin  is pretty, too.  Especially when adorned with Passion Vine, Passiflora caerulea.

I planted the vine on the other side of the lattice, planning for coverage of some, if not all, of the wooden lattice, to limit the view of the compost bin from the garden.


Alas, Garden Fates formulated other ideas.  First, this guy,

…dug up one of the two Passion Vine plants.  Several times.  Afterwards, the surviving vine travel up the trellis and then over and along the top of the compost bin, rather than covering the front the side of the trellis, as I originally intended.

Okay, lushly foliaged and flowered fencing will not be. No matter. I’m not so set in my ways that I can’t be garden-flexible and I understand the plant’s need to reach for as much sunshine as possible.

Now as I dig out compost which is ready for the garden,

…and add organic waste for production of more of the same,

I pluck the creeping tendrils and redirect as necessary, while appreciating the lovely blooms,

…and the Gulf Fritillary butterflies who use this vine as their nursery.

Beautiful compost for beautiful plants.


Spring Vignettes

As my interest in and experimentation with photography evolves, I find that I am engrossed in the process of photography in macro mode.  It’s the profile of the bee in flight with clearly defined grains of pollen and fine hairs on which that pollen attaches or the intricacies of the parts of flowers–pistil, anther, pollen, petal, taken in a wisp of breeze, that rivet and challenge me these days.

I am a novice and have a lot to learn. I harbor no ambitions beyond improving this new hobby and skill.  I don’t currently own a macro lens and don’t know that I’ll invest in one. However, I accept every photo session as a tutorial in translating what I see, or think I see, to the still and silent screen.

Regardless of my current focus on photography (and ceramics, but that’s another conversation), I am, first and always, a gardener.  My garden reflects an avid interest and deep affection for plants and their animal partners, as well as a sense of personal space and expression. My garden is an established one–I’ve gardened in this allotment for well over 20 years.  Whew! That’s a long time.  That space isn’t static though–not one bit.  I wish I had better visual records of my garden through the years, but alas, I don’t.  You’ll just have to trust me when I say that my garden, like any is alive and breathing, has evolved and adapted over the years in response to changing conditions, plant preferences, gardener whimsy and sometimes, gardener impatience.

Because of my passion for plants and their workings, in short, a plant geekiness, I don’t often take photos of my gardens in full shots. I favor selection of subject, not always the full palette. But this bountiful spring, I see my garden with its perennials abloom and mementos in place, not differently, but in its entirety: lush, growing, and life-sustaining.   Come and take a virtual walk with me this lovely spring day to see a garden created by someone who loves her plants-n-critters.  Mine is an attempt to heal a small part of the world by primarily working with what belongs here: a collaborative-effort garden between the gardener and her surroundings.

The back garden,


...and the front garden, where I rarely take photos.

It’s not a stylish or designed garden.  It’s just a garden.

But it’s my garden.