When I saw these shots from scattered spots around the garden on the thumbnails page, I wished that I’d put them all together in one place in the garden, too. The whites and purples work well together.
Or ‘Cuisse de Nymphe Emue’. Ask Delphine for a translation, and you’ll understand why the rather staid Brits changed this rose’s name to ‘Maiden’s Blush’. Unfortunately, these bloomed too late to enter in the Gardening Gone Wild rose photo contest. Oh well. Last year’s blooms were larger, not so rain-soaked.
Wet and stormy week. Those lovely volunteer grass patches I posted about a week ago went down. So did my Scotch thisltes, which has never happened before. (But that happenstance has me working on a Plan B pruning plan that could transform Scotch thistles from an architectural skyscraper of a plant to a prostate groundcover. More on that later.)
Gotta go weed…
Late blight — a very destructive disease of tomatoes and potatoes (yeah, the same disease that caused the Irish potato famine) — has appeared here in New York earlier and more widespread than ever before.
Go check your tomatoes and potatoes for signs of the disease. If you’ve got it, there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’s important that you seal up the infected plants in a plastic bag to prevent its spread to other gardens or commercial farms, and report it to your local Cooperative Extension office.
You can find details on the Cornell University Department of Horticulture blog. Meg McGrath, Cornell plant pathologist has excellent images of the disease in her photo gallery, and Amy Ivy, horticulturist in Clinton and Essex Counties has a podcast on the subject.
The twist on this one: Late blight doesn’t overwinter up here. Its spores are usually carried up from the South on storm fronts. This year, it appears that one source of spores are from infected plants shipped in from production facilities in the South.
One of my favorite views of the garden is from our second-story bathroom window. Looking for a better view of the mystery bog grass the other day — looks like it’s American Manna Grass, Glyceria grandis (thanks Lisa) — I tried something a little different that gives me a similar high-angle view:
I fully extended my monopod, set the timer on the camera, and held it up over my head. I’m guessing that puts the camera up around 14 feet or so above ground level. Here are some other high-angle garden scenes.