Visions of Flowers Dancing in My Head

Lilacs in April

It is a little cool this morning (47 degrees), but sunny, so I'll have to get out in the yard this afternoon.  It is still too early to put out bedding plants on the mountain so I'll just pull a few more weeds that have popped up.  I was going through my flower photos from the last few years and thought this was a good time to enjoy looking back on our Mountain Springs flower gardens.  Every year is different to some degree, but the lilacs are one of my favorites.  Probably because they are among the first to bloom each spring.



Wild azaleas at Wildflower Falls



The wild azaleas bloom in the woods behind the house every May.  They grow all over the woods and their fragrance fills the air!  I pick a bouquet for the house each year.  Watch out for bees!!!  They love them too!



Mournful Thyris moth on Butterfly Weed

June at Mountain Springs is a "sight to behold"!  The weeds are still under control and the garden is usually at it's peak. I looked up the little moth in my butterfly/moth book and this is really his name.  There is absolutely nothing "mournful" about his little fellow.  He brings happiness to my garden.  I think I will change his name to "Cheerful Thyris".



                                       July in the Garden

plethora n: an excessive quantity or fullness: also; PROFUSION

This word aptly describes my July garden.  Hot, dry weather, but a "plethora" or profusion of flowers, bees, butterflies, and birds.
(I think I will introduce Jack Henry to "plethora".  He loves words.  His latest is "hypothesis".  He can use it correctly, but I can't spell it correctly--thank you, spell check!)




August "volunteer" sunflower

The birds "plant" our sunflowers all over the yard.  We let them grow where ever they are planted.  I guess they are doing some gardening of their own which helps increase the birdseed supply.
Oh my! So many flowers---so little space!  I'll have to do this again!



 

I know a little garden close,

Set thick with lily and red rose,

Where I would wander if I might

From dewy morn to dewy night.

                                          William Morris