Summer is the time for gardens, even here in Texas. It’s hot, but mornings and evenings are lovely, if a bit sticky, and a shady garden is a welcoming place to spend some time. My back garden, in contrast with my sun-blasted front garden, is mostly shade. A few spots in the garden enjoy hours of sun and that’s where the back garden flower-power resides. June is in the rear window and it’s thoroughly July with its endless sunshine and no break from the heat, but a busy few weeks and poor blogging management means that this June post is late!

The northeast corner of my garden resides mostly in shade, only bits of dappled light reach this garden. The cheery chairs are comfy to rest in, provided the birds haven’t delivered too much poop upon the seats!

Easing out of the chairs, the pathway takes me to the pond and on to surrounding gardens.

We built the pond in 2008 and I’ve never regretted its addition to the garden.

I thought it would be a high maintenance addition, but a once-per-year cleaning is the only work involved, aside from adding regular water during the hottest time of year. The pond is the focal point of this back garden. Bubbling over limestone rocks from the small fall, lush green lilies and Pickerel Weed, Pontederia cordata, which shade fish and provide for pollinators, cooling, reflecting water, the fish that swim and the birds that bathe, in addition to the critters that visit during the night hours, all conspire to bring together the important qualities of a garden. It is both restful and alive.

Only one lily, ‘Colorado’, bloomed this day.

June is daylilies month. I don’t know the name or history of this variety; these particular ones descend from a few that my mother-in-law gave me years ago. Orange has never been a favorite color, but I adore these lilies: cheery, gaudy and eye-popping! Over time, I’ve added other plants that bloom orange and each have settled in as favorites. I guess that indicates, at least in a garden setting, orange is a favorite color!

I used to grow a patch of these lilies in the front garden; they sat in morning sun and afternoon shade and delivered seasonal orange crush. When that patch lost its afternoon shade, the poor lilies fried, so I moved most to the back garden pond area,

…and others to the opposite end of the back garden. Both areas receive about five hours of sun during the summer months, though at different times of the day.

Mexican Feathergrass, Nassella tenuissima, grow alongside the lilies in both areas and the two together–the silvery feathergrass and the lilies, with their Kelly-green grassy foliage, is a wining combination. The slender lily stems and brilliant pops of orange are a welcome sight every June and occasionally in late summer when there’s significant rain.

The pebbled path skirts the pond, then curves to this spot, where I stand, garden in front of me, limestone patio under my feet and enclosed catio at my back.

A few steps to my right and I have a good view of the central and largest area of my back garden. I focused this garden for autumn color and texture, so late spring and early summer mostly showcase foliage. The pink blooms are the mallow flowers, Rock Rose, Pavonia lasiopetala.

The musical Bewick’s Wren family who nested in a house at this spot in spring were still active with chick rearing in early June. This adult, meal for its chicks firmly held in beak, often perched on the metal hose stand, prior to taking the chicks’ meals to their house. I don’t know that the adults loved my presence, but they didn’t seem to mind me too much. They felt quite differently about the cats (and expressed themselves vociferously), who were safely stowed away in the catio!

Birds safe, cats entertained!

The pathway turns left from the catio, borders the main garden, and heads toward the back corner of our property where the honeybees live. I grow lots of Turk’s Cap, Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii, in both the front and back gardens. The wide leaves are lush all summer and crimson “caps” attract many kinds of pollinators, including the honeybees.

The pink blooms in this photo are Four O’Clocks, Mirabilis jalapa. A non-native, hardy perennial, these beauties open late in the day, closing by noon the next day, and attract a variety of pollinators, with particular benefit to the night time pollinators.

The central garden is book-ended by the pond (not visible) and the patio-to-beehive pathway. The back of this garden hosts several small, native trees: Roughleaf Dogwood, Cornus drummondii, Yaupon Holly, Ilix vomitoria, and Retama, Parkinsonia aculeata. The mix in the garden are native perennials with some evergreen, non-native Giant Liriope, Liriope muscari.

Many, if not most, of the plants I grow are pass-along plants, meaning that someone, at sometime, shared a seed, or cutting, or clump of plant with roots. As well, most, if not all of my plants are tough, requiring little care or irrigation. My biggest problem is that lots of my plants seed out with great gusto. Weeding is ongoing, and a tolerance for a certain level of serendipity is a must. My garden “style” is akin to an English cottage garden, so the tumble of foliage and flowers is appropriate, though I try to keep things in check. Or, so I tell myself…

On the other side of the pathway at the southwestern section of the garden, the summer blooms bask in afternoon sun.

Purple Coneflower, Echinacea purpurea, charm this garden, a worthy companion to the daylilies. This year, the coneflowers and daylilies flowered together–which is the goal–though often, one species blooms ahead of the other. The gardener works toward synchronicity, the garden plants do as they please.

Except for some rain this past weekend (Yay!), the dog days of summer have arrived. So what’s next for the garden? There will be blooms during the remainder of summer, quite a few, but many plants are settling in for their summer siesta: plenty of foliage, blooms resting. I’ll prune and shape plants that benefit in autumn from that effort, then relax and enjoy the blooming beasts of this hottest time of year.

The perennial garden is just that–perennial. There’s always something happening, always growth and change, always life renewing.

Longer days are bright with sunshine, interrupted occasionally by appreciated rainfall; the spring blooming season is here. With each passing day, sprouts emerge, previously shy blooms unfold, and the landscape’s winter muted tones segue to varieties of green, sparkling with rainbow colors. On a recent cloudy, humid early morning a few spring things caught my eyes.

Crossvine, Bignonia capreolata, is an early blooming vine here in Central Texas. Though the flowers were ready for them, pollinators were scarce; it was too early and too flush with the promise of rain. Orange-yellow flowers are open for pollinators and will bloom, at least for a time. In my garden, native bees are prime visitors to these pretties.

Crossvine doesn’t have a long bloom season. There is the initial, which lasts a few weeks, then usually a second crop later in spring. I see scattered blooms throughout summer.

My very old Texas Mountain Laurel, Dermatophyllum secundiflorum, is on its way out of this life. Most of the top portions are bare, dead wood, but at the base where most of the foliage resides, a flush of blooms have danced their way to opening, purple bliss in color, grape soda in fragrance. The Laurel was one of the first things I planted decades ago and its been in decline for a while.

I’m pleased with my Laurel’s purple clusters this spring and the flowers are in sync with other laurels; all around Austin the Texas Mountain Laurels have been especially gorgeous these past weeks. I guess they really do like drought! I won’t remove the tree until all hope of foliage and flowers is gone as birds like to perch on the branches for safety, squirrels like to nibble their meals up in the tree, and the gardener admires the old tree’s legacy and hardiness.

I love the unwieldy, silver-leafed Wooly Butterflybush, Buddleja marrubiifolia. Throughout the year, it stands as a signature specimen, a welcome change from greens in the garden. Interestingly, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center’s link mentions that the shrub is deciduous (looses its leaves during winter) and needs protection from hard freezes. Not so, mine! I’ve never protected it from any of our sporadic hard freezes and it stands full and grey/silver in all weather. It’s located facing west and near the street, so may it sit in a warmer micro-climate and is thus protected and ever full of foliage.

The Butterflybush’s darling petite flowers perch on terminal balls and attracts many kinds of butterflies, big and small. I typically see the pollinators for this plant later in the year.

Another rangy plant which is a neighbor to the Butterflybush, are two specimens of Agarita, Mahonia trifoliolata. I’ve always wanted Agarita in my garden and finally planted these two 5 years ago when my front area became full sun. Each has grown apace, producing early yellow blooms for bees, followed by yummy fruits for birds and mammals. Humans also enjoy the berries, which can be made into wine and jelly, though this human is glad to leave the fruits for the critters.

The small flowers are honey-sweet and attract honey and native bees. The only thing I don’t like about the Agarita are its spikey, ouchy, leathery leaves! I’m not a fan of plants that hurt, but I’ve made an exception for the worthy Agarita!

A super early bloomer this spring is one of the annual Blue Curls (or Caterpillars), Phacelia congesta. I have gobs of these annual spring wildflowers that re-seed themselves, but they don’t usually bloom until late March or April. Popular with the pollinators, I’m always amazed at the great variety that show up when these cute things are blooming. If you look carefully, you can see what look like two ants in one of the top blooms. I can’t tell from the photo, but it’s possible that these insects are tiny native bees. Once the blooms set their tiny seeds, migrating birds munch those seeds and help spread these beauties to other places. I see volunteer Blue Curl plants all over my neighborhood in lawns. Sadly, I’m sure most of those plants are mowed down well before growing tall enough to bloom.

Iris blooms are ubiquitous to spring gardens everywhere and mine have begun their frilly floral presentations this week. I don’t know the variety as these bulbs were here in the garden when we moved in. In addition to being lovely and large flowers, they are a fragrant addition to the garden.

Our winters are short and not too difficult, save for a week here, or week there. Even so, when the green-n-color production begins, it’s hard not to be grateful for nature’s cycles and bounty. Spring is all about renewal and life, so go outside and enjoy!