I have a garden and stuff is growing in it. Some of it is blooming, too. The peonies I planted three years ago bloomed this year — it’s my fault that I did not protect the buds from freezing in past years, but live and learn.

The late hard frost meant very few lilacs this spring. The frost was hard on the iris, too, but some made it into bloom before and some after; those caught in bud in between suffered the most.

The yellow rose that has been in my yard since godnose how long — maybe as long as the house has been here — has been poorly since I moved in. It’s a nasty rose, covered with grasping thorns, and somehow I was just never quite sure what to do with it. Each year it pumped out some blossoms then faded into a white-fly ridden mess of faded leaves.

But this year I decided, “OK, rose, you bloom every June no matter what. I’m cleaning the ground around you, I’m going to fertilize you and do something about your parasites. I hope you end up happy about it.” She’s very happy.


The downside of the rose (beyond the thorns) is that it spreads like a son-of-a-bitch, as does everything else — aspen, lilac and elm. It’s a war out there, I tell you, a war. This is the season of pulling minuscule elm-trees out of the places they don’t belong. You have to give it to elm tree, though. They bloom first and with an inspiring ferocity. “Nobody likes us. We gotta’ get out there and on that ground before anyone else and before the humans notice.” I know they think this.

baby elm trees

I’m not a great gardener. I’m just a person who putzes around the yard. I like best the gardens that grow on their own hook out there in “nature” (it still seems weird to me that “nature” is a place apart from my house and yard, but there it is). I am attempting such a garden in my yard. I bought wildflower seeds and followed the directions for sowing them. I do not think that the people who wrote those directions expected the results I have gotten. At the back, near the fence, I planted a Colorado Columbine. This thing is a dense mass of sprouts which I have thinned and thinned. Still…


Even Bear, seeing this as a cool place to lie down after a walk, had no effect on its determination to grow like crazy. I’m very eager to see what the flowers will be — I recognize some of the plants — sweet alyssum, flax, cornflower and California poppy — but what else is there???

Another seed I planted is Love in the Mist. A few years ago one or two came up after I scattered wildflower seeds in a small garden. I had never seen such a lovely thing before. I bought seeds — 1/4 pound — and shared with everyone around, so maybe it will be a big winner in my literal corner of the world.

Love in the Mist

Last but not least — though no blossoms, yet — is my little veggie garden. Tomatoes, basil, chard and zucchini.


After all…

Garden sign:mine

12 thoughts on “Blossoms…

  1. What a wonderful garden you have. I can imagine your plants have to make up for lost time growing so high up and now you have solved the mystery for me of my disappearing iris flowers. I usuall have at least 10-20 and this year I only got one. We had a late frost and that probably killed most of them in the bud.

    • Thank you! They do have to make up for lost time and the altitude affects what can grow and it’s very dry, but they all grow with a passion. There are some beautiful gardens in my town — my next door neighbor’s is really like a magazine. I’ll take a photo in the middle of the summer and write about it.

  2. Lovely!

    Here, if you go in May to the tops of some of our nearby mountains, (7-8000 ft.) you’ll find meadows covered in wild irises. The wild roses usually prefer elevations of 4-6000 ft. After a good year, the hillsides are covered in poppies and lupin.

    OTOH, our roses at home shrivel away at 100+ heat for weeks at a time.

    • I know — I remember hiking up to the Lagunas to see the wild iris in bloom. Actually, I had favorite spots in the chaparral park in San Diego (Mission Trails) where I knew I would find shooting stars and Johnny jump-ups and I made it my mission to go see them. I loved the California poppies in bloom and owl clover and so many other amazing wild flowers that you don’t see unless you go out to what a lot of people think is “nothing.”

      I miss some things about Southern California (I moved back to Colorado three years ago) but I don’t miss the heat. The last year I lived there and was packing stuff, I was getting up at 4 am so I could get a few hours work in before the heat hit at 9. I remember waiting for it to cool off to 90 before I went outside and rode my stationary bike and I started my hikes at 6. Now I’m struggling with adjusting to 4 rather than 2 seasons.

      Say hi to the black sage and all the other things for me. I miss their fragrance.

  3. Peonies and lilacs don’t grow in my area–it doesn’t get cold enough. Yours are beautiful. I have one big slate in my back garden that says simply, “Grow Dammit.”

  4. I think YOUR rose is related to OUR roses which, as I have mentioned, are the equivalent of live, growing, barbed wire. pretty roses — pink and red (they should be blooming!) — but vicious!

    • That’s very possible — I planted some barrier roses in CA, Rugosa roses. Their thorns were so nasty — worse than this thing, but who knows? Maybe when she’s healthy her thorns will get worse. :p

Comments are closed.