Bloom Day - April, 2008 - Gardening for All Five Senses

Carol of May Dreams Gardens invites us to show what's blooming in our gardens on the 15th of each month.

The more that I work in my garden, the more I become aware that the way I enjoy the work I've done goes far beyond appreciating the colors and shapes of flowers.  This is a bit of a revelation to me, as a newer gardener, over the last couple of months, but it has made my experience much richer to realize it.

So this month, as we look at some of the things that are blooming in my garden, I'll consider the many ways that I enjoy the fruits of my labor in my garden.









Sight

The appearance of a plant or of its blooms often plays the strongest role in whether I choose it for my garden.  Whether it's the perfect geometric triangle of an iris (above) or the exotic, vivid orange lobster-claw blossoms of a lotus vine (Lotus maculatus 'Amazon Sunset'  seen below), the colors and shapes of flowers may determine where (or if) it will fit in my garden.



It's no accident, really, that I do most of my photography in macro.  I very much enjoy getting up close to the things I grow and seeing them in fine detail.  The leaf on my thornless prickly pear (Opuntia tuna) is nice, but even more beautiful to me is the intricate detail of the bud; the lacy, almost weightless spider web that strings from point to point; the tiny, almost invisible spines on this otherwise spineless cactus.  Without getting close and looking closer, one might risk a nasty surprise by touching it.



Stopping to get closer helps me to appreciate a plant I might not have thought much about before.  My red yucca (Hesperaloe parviflora) sends up several of these red spikes, covered in buds and blooms.  They're large, but the blooms are subtle until you take a moment to look at them in detail.



Close up, the little bell-shaped flowers are delicate and dainty - really lovely, and not what I would have expected.




Touch

 As we wandered around the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center at the Spring Fling, I mentioned to some of the people in my vicinity that I had started a collection of fuzzy plants.  Alas, none of them are blooming this month, but it reinforces in my mind that I very much garden by touch.  I want to test the texture of the foliage of the things I plant, and one of the best places I can do that is in my growing herb garden.  I love to snag a leaf between my fingers, feel its textures, and smell the herbiness of it.  Take this lavender, for instance.  Lavender flowers are what are generally used for fragrances and potpourri, but the leaves are quite fragrant and interesting, as well.
 



Take, then, the almost velvety smoothness of the edible foliage of the nasturtium.  Its leaves are water-resistant, causing raindrops to bead up and rest in their round centers, like they do on lotus leaves floating on a pond. 



In contrast, the lacy leaves of the Dahlberg daisy (Thymophylla tenuiloba), a native, tickle my fingertips and palm as I brush over them with my hands.




Smell

My herb garden is full of mints and basils and chamomiles, all with distinctive textures and smells.  Some smells, like rosemary, drift in the breeze, while others, like lemon balm, have to be touched to be fully appreciated.

The blossoms of my satsuma tangerine tree, which faded earlier this month, smelled sweet as jasmine, their scent emanating throughout the garden.

Elsewhere, on the rose trellises, my climbing roses smell as lovely as they look.




Another to be touched and smelled, these chives (Allium shoenoprasum) have started blooming in my vegetable garden.

 



Sound

In our busy urban neighborhood, one of the most important ways that we try to make our garden relaxing and hospitable is by masking the sound of traffic nearby.  For us, this is a work in progress.  We'd like to have a water feature, for the soothing sound it would make, as well as to serve as a draw for wildlife, but we haven't had a chance yet.  We'll be installing a rain chain soon, which will give us some sound when it rains (just in time for a hot, dry summer, to be sure).

Wind provides sounds, too, in the jangling of wind chimes and the rustling of tree branches, and in the waving of grasses.

And creatures make sounds, as well, such as the buzzing of the bees that I'm attracting to pollinate our fruits and vegetables with this African blue basil (Ocimum 'African Blue').  Basil is said to make tomatoes more tasty as a companion planting, so this one is surrounded by tomato plants, which aren't seen here, and nasturtiums (yes, that's a tall, broad nasturtium leaf behind the basil), which acts as a lure for pests, drawing them away from my tomatoes.  The tomatoes are blooming, as well, and some of our first tomatoes are already full-sized, though still green.





The pomegranate (Punica granatum) has leafed out and started blooming as well, seemingly out of nowhere.  It seems like just last week, there were no leaves on it at all, and now it's quite full.  The pomegranate, with its fruit and spiny branches, is a wonderful attractor for birds, whose songs and calls are quite welcome in my garden, as well.

     


Taste

And finally, we come to taste.  One of the joys of growing organic herbs and vegetables in my garden is the ability to taste things as I come upon them.  My husband's family was amazed when they visited in March that we had full-grown peas growing already, and they enjoyed being able to shell and eat them right there in the garden.  The shells went straight into the compost, but I admit to eating those, too, on the earliest of peas, much as you would eat snow peas. 

And truly, there's nothing like a homegrown strawberry.  The poor imitations that we've become accustomed to in the supermarkets can't even compare.  Real strawberries are tart and sweet, and they smell heavenly.  (Unfortunately, our dog, whose cultured palate also leads her to pull smelly things out of the compost bin, thinks so, too.)




And, in the interest of delayed gratification, these are the blooms of our potato plants, growing in a new bed on the south side of our house.  I've never had potatoes fresh from the garden, but I'm hopeful that we'll have this experience soon - obviously, the plants are growing like weeds and blooming well.  Internet sources tell me that we can start harvesting new potatoes two to three weeks after they quit blooming.



And that is a taste (and smell and sight and sound and touch) of what's blooming in my garden!  April has been a beautiful month here in Austin, and I'm trying to enjoy the pleasant spring weather before the oppressive heat of summer moves in.