The Colors of the Season--What's Trending (Growing) Now

Red Rose and Sun Drop hosiery compliment flow blue high heels.

It's Fashion Week here in the Blooming Hill Gardens.  Come to think of it, every week is fashion week here from early spring to frost.  Okay, okay--it may not be exactly what we all think of when it comes to fashion week but the warmer months, especially June, bring out the season's brights, pastels, prints and textures that rival even the best of the couture designer's ideas.  Perhaps, because designers often rely on Mother Nature for inspiration, especially when it comes to color and style.

African Daisies are never posers!

Although the buzz around Blooming Hill by those in the know, so to speak, is all about the color lavender.  It's the reason for the season, the icing on the cake, the bees knees, (ohhhhh, you know what I mean) and, the Grande Dame is just about to make her appearance here.  So, naturally, there many other flowers who want to take advantage of center stage before her entrance into summer and some even dress in the chosen color, too!  And, why wouldn't they?!  It's the color of royalty, rich and deep and, the crowning glory to my gardens.

 So, the floral stage is set and the lighting is just perfect to highlight the rainbow regatta while the audience here is getting ready for a fantastic flower fashion show to usher in summer. Sit back and enjoy the scenery tinged with lavender and accessorized in puffs of pink, glittery silvers, ruby reds and velvety chartreuse as petals and blooms sashay down the grassy, green carpet....

Pretty striped petunias make a wide-brimmed sun hat.

'Crystal Palace Gem' Garden Geranium wrap the statuary  in style.

Asiatic Lilies flaunt themselves in orange.  What's old is new again.  

Blushing begonias.

Butterfly Weed for only the most discerning of fluttery creatures. 

A zesty and sassy Nasturtium blossom.

Subtle Sea Holly.

 Rose Campion atop silver-fringed stems.

An urn all decked out for the media.

Madame Mandevilla, I presume.

Pale pink 'Melissa' lavender beginning to make her entrance, not wanting to miss a thing and fit for  a bridal bouquet. Oh my!

 Petite Lobelia paisley-shaped petals.

Dahlias for day into evening.

Oakleaf hydrangea for the office.

Guara, great for weekend wear.

 Daylilies and Coreopsis whisper together while peaking through the crowd.

Martha Washington geraniums can always dress up a garden party.

Brilliant, tiny Brachyscome.

Youthful, dewy Sun Drops emerge twirl in their emerald green petticoats!

Uh, oh! Here come the lavender brides, at last!


There is so much more to the floral fashions of summertime-- kissed by the sun, coiffed by raindrops and fluffed by soft breezes highlighting the colors and patterns of what is trending (growing) now at the outdoor showrooms of Blooming Hill. Everyday brings new fashions to the show designed by Mother Nature, herself.  What's debuting in your garden runways?

We Are Not Alone!

Last week, my friend Kim, sent me an article about the appearance of Garden Gnomes as decorations at the 100th Anniversary of the Chelsea Flower Show in England.  The article, published in the New York Times, talked about how many British gardeners (I'm sure they consider themselves gardening purists at heart) were shocked and horrified that something as silly as a simple garden gnome could be allowed in such a sophisticated and historical event, while other Brits were glad to see a little whimsy and good humor finally make their debut into the stiff, upper-crust crowning glory of the British gardening world.  It's hard to believe that garden gnomes seem to have no place in the traditional English garden when the country itself is steeped with legend and lore about creatures such as these.  You know--like fairies and elves and leprechauns.

Gnome Ranger and his trusty frog.

Gnome Rider and his dependable turtle.

According to some, the gnome is often said to be the actual caretaker of any garden it inhabits, helping out with at least some of the smaller garden chores, once the lights of the house have gone out and everyone has gone to bed. I'm pretty sure we have all experienced a plant or two placed thoughtfully in the dirt without our assistance while more than a few weeds somehow got pulled when we were not looking and, quite frankly, I'm glad for the help mystical, whimsical or just plain practical.  Gnomes are said to enhance the harvest and help any and all creatures, great and small, that live in the garden.

An acorn-capped  happy little elfish gnome.

In any case, whether you believe or not, in the existence of gnomes, fairies and other mythical folk who mysteriously move around in the garden at night or in the day--things/movements that we see from the corner of our eye for a fleeting moment--we cannot deny the beauty of a garden and it's attraction of all things magical.  According to legend, gnomes are woodland creatures that represent the spirit of the earth.  They are said to bring good luck to the garden and the gardener who invites them in.

Next year, the Chelsea Flower Show will revert back to it's No-Gnome policy--at least no gnomes in the strict statuary sense, as we all know they are always out there, travelling through our neighborhood gardens and reaching far beyond our hometowns to points unknown, in search of the perfect poppy to sit and read under or count the birds and the butterflies flitting through the flowers--all very important tasks that fall into the realm of the cosmos, you know.

So, perhaps the powers that be of the Chelsea Flower Show should lighten up and welcome these decorative wee folk, in stone or terracotta, often painted in gay colors and sometimes not, especially since garden gnomes came to England way back in the middle of the 1800's from their homelands in Germany and Scandinavia, which means they have been gracing the English countryside and all over the world, including the good old U.S.A., long before the Chelsea Flower Show became the icon of "high-garden society."  Gnomes are here to stay and in plain sight or not, their presence is acknowledged and appreciated for their uniqueness, just as each bud, leaf, branch and flower are welcomed upon their arrival in the garden.

A gnome in the (garden) zone!

Spring Farm Tour--You Meet All Kinds!

Just finished up being one of the many venues on the Annual Loudoun County Spring Farm Tour.  We welcomed over one hundred and fifty visitors to Blooming Hill, this past weekend, in spite of the gloomy weather.  It just goes to prove that inquiring minds do want to know!  I've come to the conclusion that you meet all kinds of people at these types of public events, like the lady who announced as she walked past the sweetly fragrant Miss Kim Korean Lilac, in full bloom, that my backyard "Smelled just like a funeral parlor."  Of course, I know she meant it in only the nicest possible way.  

Then there was another lady I found meditating, with eyes closed, peacefully sitting crossed legged by the fountain and not wanting to be disturbed.  I know that because I offered her some lavender-blueberry ice cream and she glared at me in a sort of "Zen state."  And then there was the man who asked me, "What kind of a plant it was that he was looking at, in just about all of the garden beds?"  I calmly replied, "It's called lavender." Every last one of these visitors was an absolute delight to have as a guest here at Blooming Hill as they were polite and respectful and appreciated all of the beauty the gardens and flowers had to offer.

I served up countless samples of blueberry-lavender ice cream and people enjoyed lavender sugar cookies, lavender frosted cupcake truffles and all natural lavender soda.  It was a glorious weekend filled with welcoming new friends to Blooming Hill and trading gardening war stories, weather observations and, of course, adventures in growing lavender.

One of the most popular attractions on the property, to my surprise, was the lone Ponderosa lemon hanging from the small tree placed on the patio.  Just about everyone who passed it with a camera in hand, stopped and not only took a picture of it, but also had someone take their picture with it--it's the little things in life, you know.

Thankfully, the peonies made their spring debut, too, since the lavender isn't quite in season, just yet. It seemed that one pink variety, in particular caught everyone's eye.  It is an heirloom variety with a heavy sweet scent and a rich pink color.   Aside from that, I think our Farm Tour visitors were just out to enjoy the spring day and we were fortunate enough to be able to share it with them, right here at Blooming Hill.

Welcome, Fair Stranger

May is certainly a month to relish as the freshest shades of green surround a rainbow of pastel blossoms opening up and welcoming spring as I walk, each morning, along the country roads here in Western Loudoun County.  While the cherry blossoms have all but gone away and the dogwood trees begin to leaf out, even the lilacs are giving way to the blooms of warmer weather, the gently bowed heads of wisteria flowers reflect calm and balance to a world that seems to be hurrying along.  Front yards and roadsides are graced with the white, purple and pink chandelier earring-like blossoms decorating these elegant vines that, over time, can grow into frilly bushes and trees spilling over with lacy petals.

These enchanting blooms dangle effortlessly on seemingly never ending and always twisting vines.  They embody warmth and welcome and playfulness and in the language of flowers, wisteria symbolizes the beginning and beauty of spring--Welcome fair stranger!  Wisteria vines braid themselves up the sides of trees as well as attach to any willing trellis, pole or side of house in dramatic fashion and freely share their lovely fragrance with every passerby.

Wisteria is a genus of flowering plants in the pea family (Fabaceae).   This woody climbing vine is  native not only to the Eastern United States, but also China, Korea and Japan and quite often depicted in Oriental art.  In Feng Shui, blue and purple wisteria flowers represent balance and calmness by creating harmony in mind, body and spirit.  So, even though their delicate beauty makes them appear fragile, they are a resilient flower that stands up against the unpredictable forces of springtime weather.

I am fortunate to have a pink wisteria growing on an arbor in the front of my home.  It has taken its own sweet time, over the years, to mature and bloom as it would stubbornly turn green without rewarding me with any flowers, almost as if to say, "Wait, the best is yet to come. Just wait."  This type of coy behavior can be very common as it is often that a wisteria can take years to produce its first blooms. In this case, it took over 12 years!   However, seeing the soft chains of pink petals poking and then cascading through tangle of leaves has now made waiting, all of those years, worth it as this fair flower, a herald of spring, announces its presence.

Pieces of a Rainy April Morning

The Herb garden, greening up.

The cafe cutting garden will be ready for tables very soon.

Planting seeds between the existing rows of salad greens.

I spent the better part of this morning taking advantage of the heavy mist that has been falling since yesterday and worked in the gardens.  I potted up small lavender plants that are ready for sale, planted seeds in between the rows of green lettuce and colorful radicchio in the salad portion of the parterre garden, added plants to the cafe cutting garden, lingered in the herb garden and pulled weeds out of the nice, soft dirt in every garden.  By lunchtime, I was feeling fairly damp myself, with hair plastered to my head, clothes splattered with mud and soggy, wet feet.  It was a glorious morning to be outside and enjoy the weather...Truly!...if you are a gardener.

The pink dogwood tree looks like a Mother's Day corsage.

I could just live in these branches filled with pink!

I glanced at the pink dogwood, in full bloom and shining brightly in the gloom of the drizzle.  It reminded me of a beacon in the night welcoming sailors, coming home from sea duty, as they look toward their port for familiar lights to greet them after many months away.   It looked happy, all tangled up in pink blossoms and relishing the raindrops!

Bittersweet beauty, blooming heart.

I really like the color pink!

Another piece of this rainy April morning was the bleeding heart bending and drooping gracefully, catching raindrops and hiding fairies under it's fanned-out and pointed leaves.  The rain, lending these flowers a certain sleepy peacefulness, created an almost bittersweet aura about them.  Bleeding heart owns a quality of humility that many pretty flowers simply do not possess.  Yet, in the language of flowers the bleeding heart represents elegance and fidelity.

Lavender lilacs - truly lovely!

Lilacs budding out

The deep purple and very tight buds of a Miss Kim lilac bush.

And then, within the the deepening green of the pine trees, I spied from the corner of my eye, puffs of lavender nestled in the arms of heart-shaped leaves--lilac blossoms beginning to unfold on this rainy morning and scenting the air with their sweet fragrance.  Lilacs were my mother's favorite flower and, if you grew up in the Midwest, like I did, you would know why.  Lilacs love the cold, harsh winters and cold springs of that area, more so than they do here in the mid-Atlantic, making them a spectacular flower--big and fluffy and showy in their lavender, pink or white splendor.  They can be very lovely here as well, although they never seem to display quite the panache as I remember them when I was a little girl in the suburbs of Chicago.  Perhaps because lilacs are one of the first blossoms of spring in the Midwest making them part of garden royalty there.

In any case, the lilac bushes in my yard are lavender conveying the first flutterings of  new found love--love of rain and spring and flowers galore.  This springtime morning was certainly glorious and, because of the much needed rain, nothing could dampen my spirits.