This morning as I slipped out the door leaving Rose and Sugar inside the
house to jump into the car and go careening down the dead end paved road and
up the winding road to work to start watering all the plants at Lowes that I
can in 5 hours, I stopped dead in my tracks and listened and smelled.
Yesterday's scrubbing deluge of five inches of rains with accompanying ozone
releasing lightening has given the whole ridge top a moist, earthy smell.
There is no way to describe it, but anyone who gardens and who has to
suppliment the rainfalls of plants with their own moisture will tell you
it's emblazed into their memory. They have determined that most "deja vu"
experiences are triggered by familiar smells that envoke the memories. I
can attest to that one.

But as I stood there in the driveway next to the car, I started sorting out
the smells. I looked at my watch and saw that I had five minutes to spare
before I HAD to leave to get to work on time. I slowly walked back behind
the car towards what I knew was one of the aeroma's tickling my nose. The
Harlequin Glory Bower had started setting buds last week much to my dismay
but if I hadn't been so distracted and had stuck to at least partial entries
in my journal I would have seen that it was actually TIME for this limbed up
bush/tree to do it's thing for me here.

The leaves smell like peanut butter. An aeroma that was brought to my
attention after reading it in either Horticulture, Fine Gardening or Garden
Design. I can't remember and I ain't nit picking. Just that someone
identified the thick smell to me is gratitude enough. Once I read it, I ran
out and ran my hands over the leaves and sure enough, once mysterious smells
were revealed to me as childhood and present day comfort smells.

The rains had locked the smell of the peanut butter inside the leaves again,
and last nights cooler temperatures helped, but nothing could mask the
unmistakable fragrance of something close to vanilla. There seem to be quite
a few flowers I grow that come close to either vanilla or warm honey around
in the fairy beds. The creamy stars were popping open and releasing their
enticing smells of vanilla that almost dripped off the flowers, and in
testimony to it's enticements, I discovered in the pre dawn light that a
bumble bee had fallen asleep on one open flower and was immersed in it's
perfumes.

Thru the smell of the newly opening Glory bower blossoms, cut thru a most
floral and amazing perfume that was unmistakable. I am gifted in that I
appreciate the delicate but strong perfumes of trumpet lilies and some of
the fragrant orientals. But I had forgotten that I had planted a Regale
lily over in the NSSG (not so secret garden to anyone unfamiliar with me or
newbie) and this year it has wowed me by producing it's first three
blossoms. So heavy they needed to be drapped over the pink butterfly bush I
plugged in next to the varigated dogwoods and near the emerging remnants of
Kerria japonica 'flora pleno' that had totally dissappeared on me three
years prior. I still miss it. Given a few years it will come back and I
will have one heck of a bush critter. I wonder if the Kerria and Butterfly
will co-exist? I hope so. How wonderful would that be? A buttery yellow
double buttered popcorn bush in early spring loaded with those flowers, and
later on, pink flowers that are almost two foot in length that smell of warm
honey that will bloom long after the japonica is thru with sporatic spots of
yellow blossoms on and off all summer. I so hope it will.........updates
later if it fails or succeeds.

Back to my quick but intense summer scents encounters. The Regale lily was
unmistakeable, and I realized that among my olfactory experiences as I
walked outside, the first one actually was the pink butterfly bush and the
Regale lily.

The other familiar and comforting smell now is the night scents of my yellow
and magenta 4 o'clocks that I thin out each year but not totally. I will
always have 4's if I can help it. It's as common of a scent for summer as
some think roses are.

Other fragrances that I mentally noted but didn't follow thru with because I
knew time flew by when enraptured by the fairies and the flowers is the
minty smell of the bee balm that struggled thru the invasive Korean spirea
that is intent on taking the eastern end of the raised gardens. I will
remove half of it this fall when everyone is finished. It will be less cruel
and will recover in time for next spring's arrival. I have lost the
"butterfly" white lilies I've loved for so long because of this sprawling
and eating of soil bush. Beautiful as it is, I can't allow it full lead
anymore. It will have to learn dicipline and boundaries.

There are other pungent smells as I would have worked myself thru the tangle
of plants and jungle towards those three lilies, like the Blue Egnima salvia
absolutely smells of sage. As does the Bog sage that draps itself over the
electric pink asters that have been blooming now since first week of July,
way way too early.

When I make my way down the steep slope to the cleared woods spot where I
planted the Yoshino cherry tree and the Twisted Filbert, the smells of Lemon
balm rise up and caress my knees as I rub past the self seeded plants that
trickle down the slope towards the dry woods. I am not pulling anything up
because I want to see who makes their way to my woods. This years surprise
was the loosestrife. Nothing would have surprised me more but that it's so
far from any possible source tells me that Mom Nature's breath and life
giving rains played a part in this seed to get from the front of my house
all the way down to the western slope almost half an acre away. It sits
lone in the middle of the overgrown weeds not three feet from a raised bed
of odd plants. I will relocate it later.

If you were to follow me down that slope you would have stopped at one of
the last flowering lilies that I had hoped I hadn't lost this year but was
unaware of it's arrival until it was not only up, but had buds and had
started without me. It was a pink open faced one resembline a pinker
version of a Star Gazer, or what they're selling this year as a "Mona Lisa"
but mine is tall. It gets at least five foot. And because it's not getting
enough sun due to the Pawlonia tree limb that grew over the whole side yard
this year, it wasn't strong enough on it's own to hold the seven blossoms,
so I draped it over the Salix limbs that are starting to bud out. Nothing
like summer lavender........now if it only had the fragrances of it's common
name.

One other odd flower smell is the Cat's Whiskers as I love to call the
Cleome Spinosa. It has a slight minty smell as well.

On the blooming side, stand back, here's the run-down: (east to west and
northward)
Jackmanii clematis again, Japanese anemone, Russian sage, St. John's wort
hybrid, Regal lily, Glory bower, perennial begonia, Lobelia "Ruby slippers"
(more royal grape red than ruby), Pink sensations bee balm, various late
daylilies of interesting faces, Ruby spice Clethera, grape bee balm, Korean
spirea, magenta 4's, Helianthus, Heliopsis, yellow 4's, zinnia's, pom pom
dahlia's, two kinds of wave petunia's that work nicely together. Lamb's
ear, and it's kissing cousin Stachys that is green puckered leafed and has
pink bottle like flowers rising up a foot above it. Seems the pink obedient
flower is getting those little corn looking blossoms ready. Bright eyes
coreopsis, moonbeam coreopsis, Tequila sunrise coreopsis with a burgandy
ring around each center.

Two colors of tall phlox that pop up where they want to, and old fashioned
Tiger lilies scattered in four places because I seem to remember seeing
fairies with bulbils running thru the raised beds and dropped them in odd
places. Cleome's in three colors, pink, rose, and pale pinkish white. No
white ones yet. One red castor bean plant against the chain link fence that
came from who knows where as I never found the red castor seeds Helen sent
me. Magenta asters, Bog sage, white obedient plant, yarrows of three
colors, Wine and Roses weigelia has three blossoms, and the Crispa spirea is
putting out a few flowers, but the Lime spirea in the fig bed is covered in
pink flowers. And the fig tree is loaded this year, I will be in ripe fig
heaven soon. First time in quite awhile for this and I await their ripening
impatiently.

Black eyed susans, a few left over triple Quanzo daylilies, and the blue
lace cap hydrangea is still making flowers. The improved Stella d.Oro and
Ruby Stella, a couple of sedums and hawortia have screaming pink and orange
tubes rising above the main plants on ethereal stems in the pots on the
deck. And the Bengal Tiger cannas, the old fashioned Indian shot green
cannas have red flowers, soon the dark one will have an orange flower
emerging. Two double Althea's planted butt to butt. The beauty berry under
the deck is blooming, and I spotted odd return flowers on the two toned red
and yellow scotch broom the other day when I was off. Enough Queen Anne's
lace to make doilies for everyone's furniture, a few hens and chicks are
pulling up buds which means the mother's demise but those pink stars are
soooo neat. And that reminds me to check the Raspberry sedum for buds, as
the Kamchaticum sedum has yellow stars on it in the pot.

The Black Knight and lavender with orange eyed butterfly bushes, and the
tri-colored one I got this year is still blooming. given time it will
hopefully amaze me. I planted a Nanho Blue one beside the bed near the
woods. Purple loosestrife, Blue Egnima salvia, and soon enough there will
be Autumn clematis, Autumn Joy sedum, regular house leek sedum with those
pinkish white stars that entrall the bees and wasps. Zebrina's are getting
their second wind but since I cut the trunks of the large plants, their
children have made up for it by returning in smaller, thinner plants.

Rosea, Bright eyes, Lime Rock Ruby coreopsis as well as the varigated phlox
is blossoming, and Joe Pye is making buds. Gaura in a pot has returned
strongly when I wasn't paying attention and the pink butterflies hover above
the mound of burgandy leaves. Part the "hair" of the moonbeam coreopsis I
planted in my mom's concrete urn planter and then as an after thought, a
Commander Hay sempervivum reveals the coreopsis has grown thru and around
the semp almost obscurring it from sight until you see a flash of somber
burgandy purple/green and parting the fine foliage reveals the hens and
chicks and makes you smile.

A spagatti pot strainer planted in assorted types has revealed a persistant
sowing of columbine. I will leave it. Next year it will tickle me to see it
blooming in the pot hanging off the bent rebar five foot above the bed's
soil.

There are more, but my mind slips and I am tired. This is enough for now. I
hope you enjoyed my brief but rambling sharing of late happinesses. Thanks
for allowing me the time to share this with you. Until later, I hope
everyone's gardens are doing wonderfully. (I have tomato's in the pot on
the deck!)
always yours, madgardener, up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking a stormy English Mountain, mist and cloud enshrouded Douglas
Lake in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36 (if it's not 36, let me
know now since I've changed to 7 instead of 6b)

Your great essay on the scents of summer are a delight to the imagination.
The only time we have five inches of rain in our area occurs in the winter.
I did appreciate the inch of rain we received the past week and the
resultant renewal of green in the area. We had almost a month of drought
with 90+ temperatures, and brown became the predominate color. My scents of
summer have been the odor of Repel to keep off chiggers, stinking shoes, and
arm pits from sweating when I worked outside to keep up with the moisture
needs of my plants. G

Today was a reprieve, but it was punctuated by cleaning up from the storm
that swept through the area, flattening hibiscus and other tall plants as
well as littering the yard with debris from the oaks. We actually had a day
of Minnesota summer weather with another predicted for tomorrow. I'd almost
forgotten how delightful summer can be.

Yes, your deutzia along with four brethren are thriving. You'll get it soon.
It rather surprised me how well they've doing when the usually easy rooting
shrubs refused to root.

John




"madgardener" wrote in message
.. .
This morning as I slipped out the door leaving Rose and Sugar inside the
house to jump into the car and go careening down the dead end paved road
and
up the winding road to work to start watering all the plants at Lowes that
I
can in 5 hours, I stopped dead in my tracks and listened and smelled.
Yesterday's scrubbing deluge of five inches of rains with accompanying
ozone
releasing lightening has given the whole ridge top a moist, earthy smell.
There is no way to describe it, but anyone who gardens and who has to
suppliment the rainfalls of plants with their own moisture will tell you
it's emblazed into their memory. They have determined that most "deja vu"
experiences are triggered by familiar smells that envoke the memories. I
can attest to that one.

But as I stood there in the driveway next to the car, I started sorting
out
the smells. I looked at my watch and saw that I had five minutes to spare
before I HAD to leave to get to work on time. I slowly walked back
behind
the car towards what I knew was one of the aeroma's tickling my nose. The
Harlequin Glory Bower had started setting buds last week much to my dismay
but if I hadn't been so distracted and had stuck to at least partial
entries
in my journal I would have seen that it was actually TIME for this limbed
up
bush/tree to do it's thing for me here.

The leaves smell like peanut butter. An aeroma that was brought to my
attention after reading it in either Horticulture, Fine Gardening or
Garden
Design. I can't remember and I ain't nit picking. Just that someone
identified the thick smell to me is gratitude enough. Once I read it, I
ran
out and ran my hands over the leaves and sure enough, once mysterious
smells
were revealed to me as childhood and present day comfort smells.

The rains had locked the smell of the peanut butter inside the leaves
again,
and last nights cooler temperatures helped, but nothing could mask the
unmistakable fragrance of something close to vanilla. There seem to be
quite
a few flowers I grow that come close to either vanilla or warm honey
around
in the fairy beds. The creamy stars were popping open and releasing their
enticing smells of vanilla that almost dripped off the flowers, and in
testimony to it's enticements, I discovered in the pre dawn light that a
bumble bee had fallen asleep on one open flower and was immersed in it's
perfumes.

Thru the smell of the newly opening Glory bower blossoms, cut thru a most
floral and amazing perfume that was unmistakable. I am gifted in that I
appreciate the delicate but strong perfumes of trumpet lilies and some of
the fragrant orientals. But I had forgotten that I had planted a Regale
lily over in the NSSG (not so secret garden to anyone unfamiliar with me
or
newbie) and this year it has wowed me by producing it's first three
blossoms. So heavy they needed to be drapped over the pink butterfly bush
I
plugged in next to the varigated dogwoods and near the emerging remnants
of
Kerria japonica 'flora pleno' that had totally dissappeared on me three
years prior. I still miss it. Given a few years it will come back and I
will have one heck of a bush critter. I wonder if the Kerria and Butterfly
will co-exist? I hope so. How wonderful would that be? A buttery yellow
double buttered popcorn bush in early spring loaded with those flowers,
and
later on, pink flowers that are almost two foot in length that smell of
warm
honey that will bloom long after the japonica is thru with sporatic spots
of
yellow blossoms on and off all summer. I so hope it will.........updates
later if it fails or succeeds.

Back to my quick but intense summer scents encounters. The Regale lily
was
unmistakeable, and I realized that among my olfactory experiences as I
walked outside, the first one actually was the pink butterfly bush and the
Regale lily.

The other familiar and comforting smell now is the night scents of my
yellow
and magenta 4 o'clocks that I thin out each year but not totally. I will
always have 4's if I can help it. It's as common of a scent for summer as
some think roses are.

Other fragrances that I mentally noted but didn't follow thru with because
I
knew time flew by when enraptured by the fairies and the flowers is the
minty smell of the bee balm that struggled thru the invasive Korean spirea
that is intent on taking the eastern end of the raised gardens. I will
remove half of it this fall when everyone is finished. It will be less
cruel
and will recover in time for next spring's arrival. I have lost the
"butterfly" white lilies I've loved for so long because of this sprawling
and eating of soil bush. Beautiful as it is, I can't allow it full lead
anymore. It will have to learn dicipline and boundaries.

There are other pungent smells as I would have worked myself thru the
tangle
of plants and jungle towards those three lilies, like the Blue Egnima
salvia
absolutely smells of sage. As does the Bog sage that draps itself over
the
electric pink asters that have been blooming now since first week of July,
way way too early.

When I make my way down the steep slope to the cleared woods spot where I
planted the Yoshino cherry tree and the Twisted Filbert, the smells of
Lemon
balm rise up and caress my knees as I rub past the self seeded plants that
trickle down the slope towards the dry woods. I am not pulling anything up
because I want to see who makes their way to my woods. This years
surprise
was the loosestrife. Nothing would have surprised me more but that it's
so
far from any possible source tells me that Mom Nature's breath and life
giving rains played a part in this seed to get from the front of my house
all the way down to the western slope almost half an acre away. It sits
lone in the middle of the overgrown weeds not three feet from a raised bed
of odd plants. I will relocate it later.

If you were to follow me down that slope you would have stopped at one of
the last flowering lilies that I had hoped I hadn't lost this year but was
unaware of it's arrival until it was not only up, but had buds and had
started without me. It was a pink open faced one resembline a pinker
version of a Star Gazer, or what they're selling this year as a "Mona
Lisa"
but mine is tall. It gets at least five foot. And because it's not
getting
enough sun due to the Pawlonia tree limb that grew over the whole side
yard
this year, it wasn't strong enough on it's own to hold the seven blossoms,
so I draped it over the Salix limbs that are starting to bud out. Nothing
like summer lavender........now if it only had the fragrances of it's
common
name.

One other odd flower smell is the Cat's Whiskers as I love to call the
Cleome Spinosa. It has a slight minty smell as well.

On the blooming side, stand back, here's the run-down: (east to west and
northward)
Jackmanii clematis again, Japanese anemone, Russian sage, St. John's wort
hybrid, Regal lily, Glory bower, perennial begonia, Lobelia "Ruby
slippers"
(more royal grape red than ruby), Pink sensations bee balm, various late
daylilies of interesting faces, Ruby spice Clethera, grape bee balm,
Korean
spirea, magenta 4's, Helianthus, Heliopsis, yellow 4's, zinnia's, pom pom
dahlia's, two kinds of wave petunia's that work nicely together. Lamb's
ear, and it's kissing cousin Stachys that is green puckered leafed and has
pink bottle like flowers rising up a foot above it. Seems the pink
obedient
flower is getting those little corn looking blossoms ready. Bright eyes
coreopsis, moonbeam coreopsis, Tequila sunrise coreopsis with a burgandy
ring around each center.

Two colors of tall phlox that pop up where they want to, and old fashioned
Tiger lilies scattered in four places because I seem to remember seeing
fairies with bulbils running thru the raised beds and dropped them in odd
places. Cleome's in three colors, pink, rose, and pale pinkish white. No
white ones yet. One red castor bean plant against the chain link fence
that
came from who knows where as I never found the red castor seeds Helen sent
me. Magenta asters, Bog sage, white obedient plant, yarrows of three
colors, Wine and Roses weigelia has three blossoms, and the Crispa spirea
is
putting out a few flowers, but the Lime spirea in the fig bed is covered
in
pink flowers. And the fig tree is loaded this year, I will be in ripe fig
heaven soon. First time in quite awhile for this and I await their
ripening
impatiently.

Black eyed susans, a few left over triple Quanzo daylilies, and the blue
lace cap hydrangea is still making flowers. The improved Stella d.Oro and
Ruby Stella, a couple of sedums and hawortia have screaming pink and
orange
tubes rising above the main plants on ethereal stems in the pots on the
deck. And the Bengal Tiger cannas, the old fashioned Indian shot green
cannas have red flowers, soon the dark one will have an orange flower
emerging. Two double Althea's planted butt to butt. The beauty berry
under
the deck is blooming, and I spotted odd return flowers on the two toned
red
and yellow scotch broom the other day when I was off. Enough Queen Anne's
lace to make doilies for everyone's furniture, a few hens and chicks are
pulling up buds which means the mother's demise but those pink stars are
soooo neat. And that reminds me to check the Raspberry sedum for buds, as
the Kamchaticum sedum has yellow stars on it in the pot.

The Black Knight and lavender with orange eyed butterfly bushes, and the
tri-colored one I got this year is still blooming. given time it will
hopefully amaze me. I planted a Nanho Blue one beside the bed near the
woods. Purple loosestrife, Blue Egnima salvia, and soon enough there will
be Autumn clematis, Autumn Joy sedum, regular house leek sedum with those
pinkish white stars that entrall the bees and wasps. Zebrina's are
getting
their second wind but since I cut the trunks of the large plants, their
children have made up for it by returning in smaller, thinner plants.

Rosea, Bright eyes, Lime Rock Ruby coreopsis as well as the varigated
phlox
is blossoming, and Joe Pye is making buds. Gaura in a pot has returned
strongly when I wasn't paying attention and the pink butterflies hover
above
the mound of burgandy leaves. Part the "hair" of the moonbeam coreopsis I
planted in my mom's concrete urn planter and then as an after thought, a
Commander Hay sempervivum reveals the coreopsis has grown thru and around
the semp almost obscurring it from sight until you see a flash of somber
burgandy purple/green and parting the fine foliage reveals the hens and
chicks and makes you smile.

A spagatti pot strainer planted in assorted types has revealed a
persistant
sowing of columbine. I will leave it. Next year it will tickle me to see
it
blooming in the pot hanging off the bent rebar five foot above the bed's
soil.

There are more, but my mind slips and I am tired. This is enough for now.
I
hope you enjoyed my brief but rambling sharing of late happinesses.
Thanks
for allowing me the time to share this with you. Until later, I hope
everyone's gardens are doing wonderfully. (I have tomato's in the pot on
the deck!)
always yours, madgardener, up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking a stormy English Mountain, mist and cloud enshrouded Douglas
Lake in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36 (if it's not 36, let me
know now since I've changed to 7 instead of 6b)

Thanks for a great essay. Smells are the stimulants that seem to
bring back the most vivid memories.
Lilacs always remind me of going to open up our summer camp. I
leave the creeping thyme in my lawn as it brings back the memories of
a long forgotten apple orchard that I used to play in on hot summer
days.


"madgardener" wrote:


-snip-
The
Harlequin Glory Bower had started setting buds last week much to my dismay
but if I hadn't been so distracted and had stuck to at least partial entries
in my journal I would have seen that it was actually TIME for this limbed up
bush/tree to do it's thing for me here.

The leaves smell like peanut butter.

But peanut butter!. For anyone who, like me, just said - 'I want
one!' - My ancient copy of Wymans has them as Clerodendrum
trichotomum- 20', zone 6.

There is a picture of the plant at
http://www.whidbey.com/mvg/glorybower.htm , and the description say it
will tolerate full sun, but likes a little shade.

The flower & berries are pictured here-
http://www.dinop.com/plants/0054/DSCF3697.JPG .

I love everything about this plant so far. The smell, [one I
love-- and *so* unique for a plant], the habit, the partial-shade
preference. But I'm technically in zone 5, though I'm on a protected
NE facing slope, so I get some leeway. I see the madgardener is in
Zone7. Has anyone tried this plant further north--- or know of a
newer hybrid that might tolerate more cold but retain the same
features?


-snip-
This years surprise
was the loosestrife. Nothing would have surprised me more but that it's so
far from any possible source tells me that Mom Nature's breath and life
giving rains played a part in this seed to get from the front of my house
all the way down to the western slope almost half an acre away. It sits
lone in the middle of the overgrown weeds not three feet from a raised bed
of odd plants. I will relocate it later.

Sadly, it will relocate on its own. Loosestrife is one of NYs top 20
invasive species.
http://www.ipcnys.org/pages/top%2020.htm

I have mixed feelings on it myself, as it is a beautiful plant. But
I've seen a 100 acre wetland that supported maybe 100 different
plants, [plus large turtles, fish, & other critters that like water
1-2 feet deep] converted to a 100 acre field of loosestrife.

-snip-
always yours, madgardener, up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking a stormy English Mountain, mist and cloud enshrouded Douglas
Lake in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36 (if it's not 36, let me
know now since I've changed to 7 instead of 6b)

Thanks for the walk through your estate-- Hope you weren't late for
work.

Jim

I think I am zone 6b here in NE PA...am I correct about that? It's about
100 miles, maybe 50 miles North of Philadelphia.

Bebra

NE PA
zone 6b?


"B & J" wrote in message
...
Your great essay on the scents of summer are a delight to the imagination.
The only time we have five inches of rain in our area occurs in the
winter.
I did appreciate the inch of rain we received the past week and the
resultant renewal of green in the area. We had almost a month of drought
with 90+ temperatures, and brown became the predominate color. My scents
of
summer have been the odor of Repel to keep off chiggers, stinking shoes,
and
arm pits from sweating when I worked outside to keep up with the moisture
needs of my plants. G

Today was a reprieve, but it was punctuated by cleaning up from the storm
that swept through the area, flattening hibiscus and other tall plants as
well as littering the yard with debris from the oaks. We actually had a
day
of Minnesota summer weather with another predicted for tomorrow. I'd
almost
forgotten how delightful summer can be.

Yes, your deutzia along with four brethren are thriving. You'll get it
soon.
It rather surprised me how well they've doing when the usually easy
rooting
shrubs refused to root.

John




"madgardener" wrote in message
.. .
This morning as I slipped out the door leaving Rose and Sugar inside
the
house to jump into the car and go careening down the dead end paved road
and
up the winding road to work to start watering all the plants at Lowes
that
I
can in 5 hours, I stopped dead in my tracks and listened and smelled.
Yesterday's scrubbing deluge of five inches of rains with accompanying
ozone
releasing lightening has given the whole ridge top a moist, earthy
smell.
There is no way to describe it, but anyone who gardens and who has to
suppliment the rainfalls of plants with their own moisture will tell you
it's emblazed into their memory. They have determined that most "deja
vu"
experiences are triggered by familiar smells that envoke the memories.
I
can attest to that one.

But as I stood there in the driveway next to the car, I started sorting
out
the smells. I looked at my watch and saw that I had five minutes to
spare
before I HAD to leave to get to work on time. I slowly walked back
behind
the car towards what I knew was one of the aeroma's tickling my nose.
The
Harlequin Glory Bower had started setting buds last week much to my
dismay
but if I hadn't been so distracted and had stuck to at least partial
entries
in my journal I would have seen that it was actually TIME for this
limbed
up
bush/tree to do it's thing for me here.

The leaves smell like peanut butter. An aeroma that was brought to my
attention after reading it in either Horticulture, Fine Gardening or
Garden
Design. I can't remember and I ain't nit picking. Just that someone
identified the thick smell to me is gratitude enough. Once I read it, I
ran
out and ran my hands over the leaves and sure enough, once mysterious
smells
were revealed to me as childhood and present day comfort smells.

The rains had locked the smell of the peanut butter inside the leaves
again,
and last nights cooler temperatures helped, but nothing could mask the
unmistakable fragrance of something close to vanilla. There seem to be
quite
a few flowers I grow that come close to either vanilla or warm honey
around
in the fairy beds. The creamy stars were popping open and releasing
their
enticing smells of vanilla that almost dripped off the flowers, and in
testimony to it's enticements, I discovered in the pre dawn light that a
bumble bee had fallen asleep on one open flower and was immersed in it's
perfumes.

Thru the smell of the newly opening Glory bower blossoms, cut thru a
most
floral and amazing perfume that was unmistakable. I am gifted in that I
appreciate the delicate but strong perfumes of trumpet lilies and some
of
the fragrant orientals. But I had forgotten that I had planted a Regale
lily over in the NSSG (not so secret garden to anyone unfamiliar with me
or
newbie) and this year it has wowed me by producing it's first three
blossoms. So heavy they needed to be drapped over the pink butterfly
bush
I
plugged in next to the varigated dogwoods and near the emerging remnants
of
Kerria japonica 'flora pleno' that had totally dissappeared on me three
years prior. I still miss it. Given a few years it will come back and I
will have one heck of a bush critter. I wonder if the Kerria and
Butterfly
will co-exist? I hope so. How wonderful would that be? A buttery
yellow
double buttered popcorn bush in early spring loaded with those flowers,
and
later on, pink flowers that are almost two foot in length that smell of
warm
honey that will bloom long after the japonica is thru with sporatic
spots
of
yellow blossoms on and off all summer. I so hope it will.........updates
later if it fails or succeeds.

Back to my quick but intense summer scents encounters. The Regale lily
was
unmistakeable, and I realized that among my olfactory experiences as I
walked outside, the first one actually was the pink butterfly bush and
the
Regale lily.

The other familiar and comforting smell now is the night scents of my
yellow
and magenta 4 o'clocks that I thin out each year but not totally. I
will
always have 4's if I can help it. It's as common of a scent for summer
as
some think roses are.

Other fragrances that I mentally noted but didn't follow thru with
because
I
knew time flew by when enraptured by the fairies and the flowers is the
minty smell of the bee balm that struggled thru the invasive Korean
spirea
that is intent on taking the eastern end of the raised gardens. I will
remove half of it this fall when everyone is finished. It will be less
cruel
and will recover in time for next spring's arrival. I have lost the
"butterfly" white lilies I've loved for so long because of this
sprawling
and eating of soil bush. Beautiful as it is, I can't allow it full lead
anymore. It will have to learn dicipline and boundaries.

There are other pungent smells as I would have worked myself thru the
tangle
of plants and jungle towards those three lilies, like the Blue Egnima
salvia
absolutely smells of sage. As does the Bog sage that draps itself over
the
electric pink asters that have been blooming now since first week of
July,
way way too early.

When I make my way down the steep slope to the cleared woods spot where
I
planted the Yoshino cherry tree and the Twisted Filbert, the smells of
Lemon
balm rise up and caress my knees as I rub past the self seeded plants
that
trickle down the slope towards the dry woods. I am not pulling anything
up
because I want to see who makes their way to my woods. This years
surprise
was the loosestrife. Nothing would have surprised me more but that it's
so
far from any possible source tells me that Mom Nature's breath and life
giving rains played a part in this seed to get from the front of my
house
all the way down to the western slope almost half an acre away. It sits
lone in the middle of the overgrown weeds not three feet from a raised
bed
of odd plants. I will relocate it later.

If you were to follow me down that slope you would have stopped at one
of
the last flowering lilies that I had hoped I hadn't lost this year but
was
unaware of it's arrival until it was not only up, but had buds and had
started without me. It was a pink open faced one resembline a pinker
version of a Star Gazer, or what they're selling this year as a "Mona
Lisa"
but mine is tall. It gets at least five foot. And because it's not
getting
enough sun due to the Pawlonia tree limb that grew over the whole side
yard
this year, it wasn't strong enough on it's own to hold the seven
blossoms,
so I draped it over the Salix limbs that are starting to bud out.
Nothing
like summer lavender........now if it only had the fragrances of it's
common
name.

One other odd flower smell is the Cat's Whiskers as I love to call the
Cleome Spinosa. It has a slight minty smell as well.

On the blooming side, stand back, here's the run-down: (east to west and
northward)
Jackmanii clematis again, Japanese anemone, Russian sage, St. John's
wort
hybrid, Regal lily, Glory bower, perennial begonia, Lobelia "Ruby
slippers"
(more royal grape red than ruby), Pink sensations bee balm, various late
daylilies of interesting faces, Ruby spice Clethera, grape bee balm,
Korean
spirea, magenta 4's, Helianthus, Heliopsis, yellow 4's, zinnia's, pom
pom
dahlia's, two kinds of wave petunia's that work nicely together. Lamb's
ear, and it's kissing cousin Stachys that is green puckered leafed and
has
pink bottle like flowers rising up a foot above it. Seems the pink
obedient
flower is getting those little corn looking blossoms ready. Bright eyes
coreopsis, moonbeam coreopsis, Tequila sunrise coreopsis with a burgandy
ring around each center.

Two colors of tall phlox that pop up where they want to, and old
fashioned
Tiger lilies scattered in four places because I seem to remember seeing
fairies with bulbils running thru the raised beds and dropped them in
odd
places. Cleome's in three colors, pink, rose, and pale pinkish white.
No
white ones yet. One red castor bean plant against the chain link fence
that
came from who knows where as I never found the red castor seeds Helen
sent
me. Magenta asters, Bog sage, white obedient plant, yarrows of three
colors, Wine and Roses weigelia has three blossoms, and the Crispa
spirea
is
putting out a few flowers, but the Lime spirea in the fig bed is covered
in
pink flowers. And the fig tree is loaded this year, I will be in ripe
fig
heaven soon. First time in quite awhile for this and I await their
ripening
impatiently.

Black eyed susans, a few left over triple Quanzo daylilies, and the blue
lace cap hydrangea is still making flowers. The improved Stella d.Oro
and
Ruby Stella, a couple of sedums and hawortia have screaming pink and
orange
tubes rising above the main plants on ethereal stems in the pots on the
deck. And the Bengal Tiger cannas, the old fashioned Indian shot green
cannas have red flowers, soon the dark one will have an orange flower
emerging. Two double Althea's planted butt to butt. The beauty berry
under
the deck is blooming, and I spotted odd return flowers on the two toned
red
and yellow scotch broom the other day when I was off. Enough Queen
Anne's
lace to make doilies for everyone's furniture, a few hens and chicks are
pulling up buds which means the mother's demise but those pink stars are
soooo neat. And that reminds me to check the Raspberry sedum for buds,
as
the Kamchaticum sedum has yellow stars on it in the pot.

The Black Knight and lavender with orange eyed butterfly bushes, and the
tri-colored one I got this year is still blooming. given time it will
hopefully amaze me. I planted a Nanho Blue one beside the bed near the
woods. Purple loosestrife, Blue Egnima salvia, and soon enough there
will
be Autumn clematis, Autumn Joy sedum, regular house leek sedum with
those
pinkish white stars that entrall the bees and wasps. Zebrina's are
getting
their second wind but since I cut the trunks of the large plants, their
children have made up for it by returning in smaller, thinner plants.

Rosea, Bright eyes, Lime Rock Ruby coreopsis as well as the varigated
phlox
is blossoming, and Joe Pye is making buds. Gaura in a pot has returned
strongly when I wasn't paying attention and the pink butterflies hover
above
the mound of burgandy leaves. Part the "hair" of the moonbeam coreopsis
I
planted in my mom's concrete urn planter and then as an after thought, a
Commander Hay sempervivum reveals the coreopsis has grown thru and
around
the semp almost obscurring it from sight until you see a flash of somber
burgandy purple/green and parting the fine foliage reveals the hens and
chicks and makes you smile.

A spagatti pot strainer planted in assorted types has revealed a
persistant
sowing of columbine. I will leave it. Next year it will tickle me to
see
it
blooming in the pot hanging off the bent rebar five foot above the bed's
soil.

There are more, but my mind slips and I am tired. This is enough for
now.
I
hope you enjoyed my brief but rambling sharing of late happinesses.
Thanks
for allowing me the time to share this with you. Until later, I hope
everyone's gardens are doing wonderfully. (I have tomato's in the pot
on
the deck!)
always yours, madgardener, up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking a stormy English Mountain, mist and cloud enshrouded Douglas
Lake in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36 (if it's not 36, let
me
know now since I've changed to 7 instead of 6b)

"Jim Elbrecht" wrote in message
...

Thanks for a great essay. Smells are the stimulants that seem to bring back
the most vivid memories.

I tend to agree with you Jim..... and I have been terribly delinquent in
writing to the newsgroup lately. Just too tired.....and distracted here in
Fairy Holler.

Lilacs always remind me of going to open up our summer camp. I leave the
creeping thyme in my lawn as it brings back the memories of a long forgotten
apple orchard that I used to play in on hot summer days.

This year was my first year after I hard pruned a beloved lilac that a
friend gifted me of eleven years ago. When I said I didn't have any, he
pulled out a three gallon pot with five stems in it and said "I took
cuttings from my mother's lilac that is out front, help yourself, plant the
whole pot" And I moved it five times in it's short life. It was moved,
planted in what I assumed was a safe spot and then farmer mentality mowed it
to nubbins. Then I dug it up and plunked it into a galvanized tub that
didn't have a bottom and kept it there until we moved from the farmhouse
three and a half years later to here, and I planted it in the wrong spot. I
then moved it twice more until the spot where it now resides wheather I like
it there or not. But after it started hogging the flower bed I'd built next
to it, I pruned out a third of the branches last year "be damned if I lose
all the flowers next year" and son of a gun if this year the flowers were
the largest and most fragrant I've ever seen it have.



I am leaning towards fragrant and textural and colorful leafed plants now to
fill in for the lack of flowers at the other times. You should see my oak
leaf hydrangea!! I took a slower more "stoned" walk around the whole area
that I've planted so far and it amazed even me............I've done more
than I realize, and nothing at all...........



"madgardener" wrote

-snip-

The Harlequin Glory Bower had started setting buds last week much to my
dismay but if I hadn't been so distracted and had stuck to at least partial
entries in my journal I would have seen that it was actually TIME for this
limbed up bush/tree to do it's thing for me here.



The leaves smell like peanut butter.



But peanut butter!. For anyone who, like me, just said - 'I want one!' - My
ancient copy of Wymans has them as Clerodendrum trichotomum- 20', zone 6.



There is a picture of the plant at
http://www.whidbey.com/mvg/glorybower.htm , and the description say it
will tolerate full sun, but likes a little shade.

Mine is on the east/south corner of the NSSG (not so secret garden, or maybe
we should say CISSG....Crammed into small space garden G) it gets dappled
eastern sun in the morning thru the black cherry tree that has always been
here and is huge and is the true point of the "shade" part of the two
gardens. It gets hard southern sun and indirect scorching western sunlight
and droops and sulks in the heat. But once the worst of the heat is past and
dusk is approaching, it perks up wonderfully. I tend to pamper it when we
have drought like last year. It would droop and I'd water it in the late
afternoon. If you want to try it, plant it on your south-western spot in a
sheltered area where it will get some dappled shade to help it thru heat.



The flower & berries are pictured here-

http://www.dinop.com/plants/0054/DSCF3697.JPG .



BOY are THOSE the berries!!!!! When I first saw the picture of this berry
in the Holbrook Farm catalog back in 1995 when it was still open, I remember
saying " I GOTTA HAVE THAT PLANT FOR THE BERRIES ALONE" When the original
owner decided after 15 years to close the incredible and inovative nursery
down and move on to other things, I remember thinking it wasn't fair,
especially when I had just discovered it. But as luck would have it I was
able to obtain three of my major players and bones in my original plantings
despite everything I moved over here seven and a half years ago. The bush
variety of St. John's Wort or Hyperion I think. Incredible bush with yellow
pom poms that look right off a very feminine lady's dresser (like a powder
puff only yellow) and a perfect shape. Moved that one three times before
getting it where it really loves it. on the northeast edge of the lip of
the slope where I have crammed in so much on the east side of the house.
It's very happy but is being shoved now by the RUNNERS of the GLORY
BOWER..........you want a few seedlings??I could dig a couple in the fall
and send them and you can pot them up and see how they do where you are if
you're game, I have a thicket going on at the moment.



The other plants I got at Holbrook Farms was a "Twig-Leaf Dogwood" that
turned out to be a Cornelian Cherry tree. These both cost me $1.50 for a
four inch pot. the third one I treasure is the Glory Bower and it cost me
more, $3.00 for the quart pot.



I love everything about this plant so far. The smell, [one I love-- and *so*
unique for a plant], the habit, the partial-shade preference. But I'm
technically in zone 5, though I'm on a protected NE facing slope, so I get
some leeway. I see the madgardener is in Zone7. Has anyone tried this plant
further north--- or know of a newer hybrid that might tolerate more cold but
retain the same features?

If you would like to try a sapling or two and pot them up and let them
acclimate to your climate, your more than welcome to try it like I said.
E-mail me if you're interested. The worst you will do is kill them, and I
can afford to have the whole area turn into a thicket. The Glory Bower is a
suckering shrub/tree and I also have a Sorbaria which ALSO is a suckering
shrub, they're fighting it out at the moment with the Sorbaria gaining
fast.........but the Glory bower is just gaining in height. I will though
have to move the Mexican jasmine bushes before I lose them to lack of light.
they prefer more sun than they're now getting.



-snip-

This years surprise was the loosestrife. Nothing would have surprised me
more but that it's so far from any possible source tells me that Mom
Nature's breath and life giving rains played a part in this seed to get from
the front of my house all the way down to the western slope almost half an
acre away. It sits lone in the middle of the overgrown weeds not three feet
from a raised bed of odd plants. I will relocate it later.



Sadly, it will relocate on its own. Loosestrife is one of NYs top 20
invasive species.

http://www.ipcnys.org/pages/top%2020.htm I have mixed feelings on it
myself, as it is a beautiful plant. But I've seen a 100 acre wetland that
supported maybe 100 different plants, [plus large turtles, fish, & other
critters that like water

1-2 feet deep] converted to a 100 acre field of loosestrife.

I agree, I was amazed and horrified to see how much it had eaten Michigan's
wetlands when I as last there and I'm sure it's much worse now. that's where
I got the hunks I have now. But it's a shadow of itself compared to what it
is up there in the loose, rich sandy soil and high water table. Mine pretty
much behaves in the clay soil, and the Japanese beetles eat it down to bones
which is what they're doing right now.......I will update everyone on my
more sedate walk tomorrow. It was incredible.......thanks for the
encouraging words.........

madgardener in Eastern Tennessee



-snip-

always yours, madgardener, up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking a stormy English Mountain, mist and cloud enshrouded Douglas
Lake in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36 (if it's not 36, let me
know now since I've changed to 7 instead of 6b)



Thanks for the walk through your estate-- Hope you weren't late for work.



Jim

"B & J" wrote in message
...
Your great essay on the scents of summer are a delight to the imagination.
The only time we have five inches of rain in our area occurs in the
winter.
I did appreciate the inch of rain we received the past week and the
resultant renewal of green in the area. We had almost a month of drought
with 90+ temperatures, and brown became the predominate color. My scents
of
summer have been the odor of Repel to keep off chiggers, stinking shoes,
and
arm pits from sweating when I worked outside to keep up with the moisture
needs of my plants. G

thanks for the uplifting words. I apologize for lack of communication with
you and everyone here in the "backyard" but it's been rather distractive
since starting the job at Lowe's. It will slow down soon and they'll cut my
hours and ya'll will be tired of me soon enough! The rains have moved out
and now it's more like July again and I'm back to wearing the sunscreen and
taking massive bottles of GatorAid with me to prevent any more heat
dehydration attacks (I had heat stroke twice a bit back before the storms
came in) which isn't hard to do in the outside nursery area with the
concrete and full sun exposure.

Today was a reprieve, but it was punctuated by cleaning up from the storm
that swept through the area, flattening hibiscus and other tall plants as
well as littering the yard with debris from the oaks. We actually had a
day
of Minnesota summer weather with another predicted for tomorrow. I'd
almost
forgotten how delightful summer can be.

That was Wednesday and Thursday we had that perfect weather. .......

Yes, your deutzia along with four brethren are thriving. You'll get it
soon.
It rather surprised me how well they've doing when the usually easy
rooting
shrubs refused to root.

Can it stand a little semi-shady? I am tempted to put it further down the
steep slope nearer the woods despite that I haven't cleared out what I need
clearing. One woman ain't enough and Squire's knees have given out which is
why he's not as likely to do much outside..........I need to starve him and
knock off about 100 pounds off his bones! g talk to ya later, will send
pics.............
madgardener

John




"madgardener" wrote in message
.. .
This morning as I slipped out the door leaving Rose and Sugar inside
the
house to jump into the car and go careening down the dead end paved road
and
up the winding road to work to start watering all the plants at Lowes
that
I
can in 5 hours, I stopped dead in my tracks and listened and smelled.
Yesterday's scrubbing deluge of five inches of rains with accompanying
ozone
releasing lightening has given the whole ridge top a moist, earthy
smell.
There is no way to describe it, but anyone who gardens and who has to
suppliment the rainfalls of plants with their own moisture will tell you
it's emblazed into their memory. They have determined that most "deja
vu"
experiences are triggered by familiar smells that envoke the memories.
I
can attest to that one.

But as I stood there in the driveway next to the car, I started sorting
out
the smells. I looked at my watch and saw that I had five minutes to
spare
before I HAD to leave to get to work on time. I slowly walked back
behind
the car towards what I knew was one of the aeroma's tickling my nose.
The
Harlequin Glory Bower had started setting buds last week much to my
dismay
but if I hadn't been so distracted and had stuck to at least partial
entries
in my journal I would have seen that it was actually TIME for this
limbed
up
bush/tree to do it's thing for me here.

The leaves smell like peanut butter. An aeroma that was brought to my
attention after reading it in either Horticulture, Fine Gardening or
Garden
Design. I can't remember and I ain't nit picking. Just that someone
identified the thick smell to me is gratitude enough. Once I read it, I
ran
out and ran my hands over the leaves and sure enough, once mysterious
smells
were revealed to me as childhood and present day comfort smells.

The rains had locked the smell of the peanut butter inside the leaves
again,
and last nights cooler temperatures helped, but nothing could mask the
unmistakable fragrance of something close to vanilla. There seem to be
quite
a few flowers I grow that come close to either vanilla or warm honey
around
in the fairy beds. The creamy stars were popping open and releasing
their
enticing smells of vanilla that almost dripped off the flowers, and in
testimony to it's enticements, I discovered in the pre dawn light that a
bumble bee had fallen asleep on one open flower and was immersed in it's
perfumes.

Thru the smell of the newly opening Glory bower blossoms, cut thru a
most
floral and amazing perfume that was unmistakable. I am gifted in that I
appreciate the delicate but strong perfumes of trumpet lilies and some
of
the fragrant orientals. But I had forgotten that I had planted a Regale
lily over in the NSSG (not so secret garden to anyone unfamiliar with me
or
newbie) and this year it has wowed me by producing it's first three
blossoms. So heavy they needed to be drapped over the pink butterfly
bush
I
plugged in next to the varigated dogwoods and near the emerging remnants
of
Kerria japonica 'flora pleno' that had totally dissappeared on me three
years prior. I still miss it. Given a few years it will come back and I
will have one heck of a bush critter. I wonder if the Kerria and
Butterfly
will co-exist? I hope so. How wonderful would that be? A buttery
yellow
double buttered popcorn bush in early spring loaded with those flowers,
and
later on, pink flowers that are almost two foot in length that smell of
warm
honey that will bloom long after the japonica is thru with sporatic
spots
of
yellow blossoms on and off all summer. I so hope it will.........updates
later if it fails or succeeds.

Back to my quick but intense summer scents encounters. The Regale lily
was
unmistakeable, and I realized that among my olfactory experiences as I
walked outside, the first one actually was the pink butterfly bush and
the
Regale lily.

The other familiar and comforting smell now is the night scents of my
yellow
and magenta 4 o'clocks that I thin out each year but not totally. I
will
always have 4's if I can help it. It's as common of a scent for summer
as
some think roses are.

Other fragrances that I mentally noted but didn't follow thru with
because
I
knew time flew by when enraptured by the fairies and the flowers is the
minty smell of the bee balm that struggled thru the invasive Korean
spirea
that is intent on taking the eastern end of the raised gardens. I will
remove half of it this fall when everyone is finished. It will be less
cruel
and will recover in time for next spring's arrival. I have lost the
"butterfly" white lilies I've loved for so long because of this
sprawling
and eating of soil bush. Beautiful as it is, I can't allow it full lead
anymore. It will have to learn dicipline and boundaries.

There are other pungent smells as I would have worked myself thru the
tangle
of plants and jungle towards those three lilies, like the Blue Egnima
salvia
absolutely smells of sage. As does the Bog sage that draps itself over
the
electric pink asters that have been blooming now since first week of
July,
way way too early.

When I make my way down the steep slope to the cleared woods spot where
I
planted the Yoshino cherry tree and the Twisted Filbert, the smells of
Lemon
balm rise up and caress my knees as I rub past the self seeded plants
that
trickle down the slope towards the dry woods. I am not pulling anything
up
because I want to see who makes their way to my woods. This years
surprise
was the loosestrife. Nothing would have surprised me more but that it's
so
far from any possible source tells me that Mom Nature's breath and life
giving rains played a part in this seed to get from the front of my
house
all the way down to the western slope almost half an acre away. It sits
lone in the middle of the overgrown weeds not three feet from a raised
bed
of odd plants. I will relocate it later.

If you were to follow me down that slope you would have stopped at one
of
the last flowering lilies that I had hoped I hadn't lost this year but
was
unaware of it's arrival until it was not only up, but had buds and had
started without me. It was a pink open faced one resembline a pinker
version of a Star Gazer, or what they're selling this year as a "Mona
Lisa"
but mine is tall. It gets at least five foot. And because it's not
getting
enough sun due to the Pawlonia tree limb that grew over the whole side
yard
this year, it wasn't strong enough on it's own to hold the seven
blossoms,
so I draped it over the Salix limbs that are starting to bud out.
Nothing
like summer lavender........now if it only had the fragrances of it's
common
name.

One other odd flower smell is the Cat's Whiskers as I love to call the
Cleome Spinosa. It has a slight minty smell as well.

On the blooming side, stand back, here's the run-down: (east to west and
northward)
Jackmanii clematis again, Japanese anemone, Russian sage, St. John's
wort
hybrid, Regal lily, Glory bower, perennial begonia, Lobelia "Ruby
slippers"
(more royal grape red than ruby), Pink sensations bee balm, various late
daylilies of interesting faces, Ruby spice Clethera, grape bee balm,
Korean
spirea, magenta 4's, Helianthus, Heliopsis, yellow 4's, zinnia's, pom
pom
dahlia's, two kinds of wave petunia's that work nicely together. Lamb's
ear, and it's kissing cousin Stachys that is green puckered leafed and
has
pink bottle like flowers rising up a foot above it. Seems the pink
obedient
flower is getting those little corn looking blossoms ready. Bright eyes
coreopsis, moonbeam coreopsis, Tequila sunrise coreopsis with a burgandy
ring around each center.

Two colors of tall phlox that pop up where they want to, and old
fashioned
Tiger lilies scattered in four places because I seem to remember seeing
fairies with bulbils running thru the raised beds and dropped them in
odd
places. Cleome's in three colors, pink, rose, and pale pinkish white.
No
white ones yet. One red castor bean plant against the chain link fence
that
came from who knows where as I never found the red castor seeds Helen
sent
me. Magenta asters, Bog sage, white obedient plant, yarrows of three
colors, Wine and Roses weigelia has three blossoms, and the Crispa
spirea
is
putting out a few flowers, but the Lime spirea in the fig bed is covered
in
pink flowers. And the fig tree is loaded this year, I will be in ripe
fig
heaven soon. First time in quite awhile for this and I await their
ripening
impatiently.

Black eyed susans, a few left over triple Quanzo daylilies, and the blue
lace cap hydrangea is still making flowers. The improved Stella d.Oro
and
Ruby Stella, a couple of sedums and hawortia have screaming pink and
orange
tubes rising above the main plants on ethereal stems in the pots on the
deck. And the Bengal Tiger cannas, the old fashioned Indian shot green
cannas have red flowers, soon the dark one will have an orange flower
emerging. Two double Althea's planted butt to butt. The beauty berry
under
the deck is blooming, and I spotted odd return flowers on the two toned
red
and yellow scotch broom the other day when I was off. Enough Queen
Anne's
lace to make doilies for everyone's furniture, a few hens and chicks are
pulling up buds which means the mother's demise but those pink stars are
soooo neat. And that reminds me to check the Raspberry sedum for buds,
as
the Kamchaticum sedum has yellow stars on it in the pot.

The Black Knight and lavender with orange eyed butterfly bushes, and the
tri-colored one I got this year is still blooming. given time it will
hopefully amaze me. I planted a Nanho Blue one beside the bed near the
woods. Purple loosestrife, Blue Egnima salvia, and soon enough there
will
be Autumn clematis, Autumn Joy sedum, regular house leek sedum with
those
pinkish white stars that entrall the bees and wasps. Zebrina's are
getting
their second wind but since I cut the trunks of the large plants, their
children have made up for it by returning in smaller, thinner plants.

Rosea, Bright eyes, Lime Rock Ruby coreopsis as well as the varigated
phlox
is blossoming, and Joe Pye is making buds. Gaura in a pot has returned
strongly when I wasn't paying attention and the pink butterflies hover
above
the mound of burgandy leaves. Part the "hair" of the moonbeam coreopsis
I
planted in my mom's concrete urn planter and then as an after thought, a
Commander Hay sempervivum reveals the coreopsis has grown thru and
around
the semp almost obscurring it from sight until you see a flash of somber
burgandy purple/green and parting the fine foliage reveals the hens and
chicks and makes you smile.

A spagatti pot strainer planted in assorted types has revealed a
persistant
sowing of columbine. I will leave it. Next year it will tickle me to
see
it
blooming in the pot hanging off the bent rebar five foot above the bed's
soil.

There are more, but my mind slips and I am tired. This is enough for
now.
I
hope you enjoyed my brief but rambling sharing of late happinesses.
Thanks
for allowing me the time to share this with you. Until later, I hope
everyone's gardens are doing wonderfully. (I have tomato's in the pot
on
the deck!)
always yours, madgardener, up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking a stormy English Mountain, mist and cloud enshrouded Douglas
Lake in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36 (if it's not 36, let
me
know now since I've changed to 7 instead of 6b)

"madgardener" wrote in message
...


Can it stand a little semi-shady? I am tempted to put it further down the
steep slope nearer the woods despite that I haven't cleared out what I
need
clearing. One woman ain't enough and Squire's knees have given out which
is
why he's not as likely to do much outside..........I need to starve him
and
knock off about 100 pounds off his bones! g talk to ya later, will
send
pics.............
madgardener

I'm sure it can because the parent shrub was in a lot of shade. It was
blooming at the time but rather sparsely. The blossoms were pretty, but they
were white without the pink tinge they were supposed to possess. I won't
send it next week but sometime the following week because we're heading to
Minnesota. You can plant it in a gallon pot when it arrives and save it for
fall planting.

I'm sure that your work schedule is about to slow considerably in the garden
center and give you more time to pursue other interests. I don't believe you
when you say you're going to put Squire on a diet. You're too good a cook!
GRIN

John

Hey!
Same here. Loved the smells. I was right there with you!
As to the drought that B& J are going through, I'm going nuts with it as
well, and I live in central B.C. Haven't had rain for a month and the temps
are getting worse. 39 degrees celcius and a low of 31.God, how I long for
a good thunder storm!
J.Lane
"madgardener" wrote in message
...

"B & J" wrote in message
...
Your great essay on the scents of summer are a delight to the
imagination.
The only time we have five inches of rain in our area occurs in the
winter.
I did appreciate the inch of rain we received the past week and the
resultant renewal of green in the area. We had almost a month of drought
with 90+ temperatures, and brown became the predominate color. My scents
of
summer have been the odor of Repel to keep off chiggers, stinking shoes,
and
arm pits from sweating when I worked outside to keep up with the
moisture
needs of my plants. G

thanks for the uplifting words. I apologize for lack of communication with
you and everyone here in the "backyard" but it's been rather distractive
since starting the job at Lowe's. It will slow down soon and they'll cut
my
hours and ya'll will be tired of me soon enough! The rains have moved out
and now it's more like July again and I'm back to wearing the sunscreen
and
taking massive bottles of GatorAid with me to prevent any more heat
dehydration attacks (I had heat stroke twice a bit back before the storms
came in) which isn't hard to do in the outside nursery area with the
concrete and full sun exposure.

Today was a reprieve, but it was punctuated by cleaning up from the
storm
that swept through the area, flattening hibiscus and other tall plants
as
well as littering the yard with debris from the oaks. We actually had a
day
of Minnesota summer weather with another predicted for tomorrow. I'd
almost
forgotten how delightful summer can be.

That was Wednesday and Thursday we had that perfect weather. .......

Yes, your deutzia along with four brethren are thriving. You'll get it
soon.
It rather surprised me how well they've doing when the usually easy
rooting
shrubs refused to root.

Can it stand a little semi-shady? I am tempted to put it further down the
steep slope nearer the woods despite that I haven't cleared out what I
need
clearing. One woman ain't enough and Squire's knees have given out which
is
why he's not as likely to do much outside..........I need to starve him
and
knock off about 100 pounds off his bones! g talk to ya later, will
send
pics.............
madgardener

John




"madgardener" wrote in message
.. .
This morning as I slipped out the door leaving Rose and Sugar inside
the
house to jump into the car and go careening down the dead end paved
road
and
up the winding road to work to start watering all the plants at Lowes
that
I
can in 5 hours, I stopped dead in my tracks and listened and smelled.
Yesterday's scrubbing deluge of five inches of rains with accompanying
ozone
releasing lightening has given the whole ridge top a moist, earthy
smell.
There is no way to describe it, but anyone who gardens and who has to
suppliment the rainfalls of plants with their own moisture will tell
you
it's emblazed into their memory. They have determined that most "deja
vu"
experiences are triggered by familiar smells that envoke the memories.
I
can attest to that one.

But as I stood there in the driveway next to the car, I started
sorting
out
the smells. I looked at my watch and saw that I had five minutes to
spare
before I HAD to leave to get to work on time. I slowly walked back
behind
the car towards what I knew was one of the aeroma's tickling my nose.
The
Harlequin Glory Bower had started setting buds last week much to my
dismay
but if I hadn't been so distracted and had stuck to at least partial
entries
in my journal I would have seen that it was actually TIME for this
limbed
up
bush/tree to do it's thing for me here.

The leaves smell like peanut butter. An aeroma that was brought to my
attention after reading it in either Horticulture, Fine Gardening or
Garden
Design. I can't remember and I ain't nit picking. Just that someone
identified the thick smell to me is gratitude enough. Once I read it,
I
ran
out and ran my hands over the leaves and sure enough, once mysterious
smells
were revealed to me as childhood and present day comfort smells.

The rains had locked the smell of the peanut butter inside the leaves
again,
and last nights cooler temperatures helped, but nothing could mask the
unmistakable fragrance of something close to vanilla. There seem to be
quite
a few flowers I grow that come close to either vanilla or warm honey
around
in the fairy beds. The creamy stars were popping open and releasing
their
enticing smells of vanilla that almost dripped off the flowers, and in
testimony to it's enticements, I discovered in the pre dawn light that
a
bumble bee had fallen asleep on one open flower and was immersed in
it's
perfumes.

Thru the smell of the newly opening Glory bower blossoms, cut thru a
most
floral and amazing perfume that was unmistakable. I am gifted in that
I
appreciate the delicate but strong perfumes of trumpet lilies and some
of
the fragrant orientals. But I had forgotten that I had planted a
Regale
lily over in the NSSG (not so secret garden to anyone unfamiliar with
me
or
newbie) and this year it has wowed me by producing it's first three
blossoms. So heavy they needed to be drapped over the pink butterfly
bush
I
plugged in next to the varigated dogwoods and near the emerging
remnants
of
Kerria japonica 'flora pleno' that had totally dissappeared on me
three
years prior. I still miss it. Given a few years it will come back and
I
will have one heck of a bush critter. I wonder if the Kerria and
Butterfly
will co-exist? I hope so. How wonderful would that be? A buttery
yellow
double buttered popcorn bush in early spring loaded with those
flowers,
and
later on, pink flowers that are almost two foot in length that smell
of
warm
honey that will bloom long after the japonica is thru with sporatic
spots
of
yellow blossoms on and off all summer. I so hope it
will.........updates
later if it fails or succeeds.

Back to my quick but intense summer scents encounters. The Regale
lily
was
unmistakeable, and I realized that among my olfactory experiences as I
walked outside, the first one actually was the pink butterfly bush and
the
Regale lily.

The other familiar and comforting smell now is the night scents of my
yellow
and magenta 4 o'clocks that I thin out each year but not totally. I
will
always have 4's if I can help it. It's as common of a scent for summer
as
some think roses are.

Other fragrances that I mentally noted but didn't follow thru with
because
I
knew time flew by when enraptured by the fairies and the flowers is
the
minty smell of the bee balm that struggled thru the invasive Korean
spirea
that is intent on taking the eastern end of the raised gardens. I
will
remove half of it this fall when everyone is finished. It will be less
cruel
and will recover in time for next spring's arrival. I have lost the
"butterfly" white lilies I've loved for so long because of this
sprawling
and eating of soil bush. Beautiful as it is, I can't allow it full
lead
anymore. It will have to learn dicipline and boundaries.

There are other pungent smells as I would have worked myself thru the
tangle
of plants and jungle towards those three lilies, like the Blue Egnima
salvia
absolutely smells of sage. As does the Bog sage that draps itself
over
the
electric pink asters that have been blooming now since first week of
July,
way way too early.

When I make my way down the steep slope to the cleared woods spot
where
I
planted the Yoshino cherry tree and the Twisted Filbert, the smells of
Lemon
balm rise up and caress my knees as I rub past the self seeded plants
that
trickle down the slope towards the dry woods. I am not pulling
anything
up
because I want to see who makes their way to my woods. This years
surprise
was the loosestrife. Nothing would have surprised me more but that
it's
so
far from any possible source tells me that Mom Nature's breath and
life
giving rains played a part in this seed to get from the front of my
house
all the way down to the western slope almost half an acre away. It
sits
lone in the middle of the overgrown weeds not three feet from a raised
bed
of odd plants. I will relocate it later.

If you were to follow me down that slope you would have stopped at one
of
the last flowering lilies that I had hoped I hadn't lost this year but
was
unaware of it's arrival until it was not only up, but had buds and had
started without me. It was a pink open faced one resembline a pinker
version of a Star Gazer, or what they're selling this year as a "Mona
Lisa"
but mine is tall. It gets at least five foot. And because it's not
getting
enough sun due to the Pawlonia tree limb that grew over the whole side
yard
this year, it wasn't strong enough on it's own to hold the seven
blossoms,
so I draped it over the Salix limbs that are starting to bud out.
Nothing
like summer lavender........now if it only had the fragrances of it's
common
name.

One other odd flower smell is the Cat's Whiskers as I love to call the
Cleome Spinosa. It has a slight minty smell as well.

On the blooming side, stand back, here's the run-down: (east to west
and
northward)
Jackmanii clematis again, Japanese anemone, Russian sage, St. John's
wort
hybrid, Regal lily, Glory bower, perennial begonia, Lobelia "Ruby
slippers"
(more royal grape red than ruby), Pink sensations bee balm, various
late
daylilies of interesting faces, Ruby spice Clethera, grape bee balm,
Korean
spirea, magenta 4's, Helianthus, Heliopsis, yellow 4's, zinnia's, pom
pom
dahlia's, two kinds of wave petunia's that work nicely together.
Lamb's
ear, and it's kissing cousin Stachys that is green puckered leafed and
has
pink bottle like flowers rising up a foot above it. Seems the pink
obedient
flower is getting those little corn looking blossoms ready. Bright
eyes
coreopsis, moonbeam coreopsis, Tequila sunrise coreopsis with a
burgandy
ring around each center.

Two colors of tall phlox that pop up where they want to, and old
fashioned
Tiger lilies scattered in four places because I seem to remember
seeing
fairies with bulbils running thru the raised beds and dropped them in
odd
places. Cleome's in three colors, pink, rose, and pale pinkish white.
No
white ones yet. One red castor bean plant against the chain link
fence
that
came from who knows where as I never found the red castor seeds Helen
sent
me. Magenta asters, Bog sage, white obedient plant, yarrows of three
colors, Wine and Roses weigelia has three blossoms, and the Crispa
spirea
is
putting out a few flowers, but the Lime spirea in the fig bed is
covered
in
pink flowers. And the fig tree is loaded this year, I will be in ripe
fig
heaven soon. First time in quite awhile for this and I await their
ripening
impatiently.

Black eyed susans, a few left over triple Quanzo daylilies, and the
blue
lace cap hydrangea is still making flowers. The improved Stella d.Oro
and
Ruby Stella, a couple of sedums and hawortia have screaming pink and
orange
tubes rising above the main plants on ethereal stems in the pots on
the
deck. And the Bengal Tiger cannas, the old fashioned Indian shot
green
cannas have red flowers, soon the dark one will have an orange flower
emerging. Two double Althea's planted butt to butt. The beauty berry
under
the deck is blooming, and I spotted odd return flowers on the two
toned
red
and yellow scotch broom the other day when I was off. Enough Queen
Anne's
lace to make doilies for everyone's furniture, a few hens and chicks
are
pulling up buds which means the mother's demise but those pink stars
are
soooo neat. And that reminds me to check the Raspberry sedum for
buds,
as
the Kamchaticum sedum has yellow stars on it in the pot.

The Black Knight and lavender with orange eyed butterfly bushes, and
the
tri-colored one I got this year is still blooming. given time it will
hopefully amaze me. I planted a Nanho Blue one beside the bed near
the
woods. Purple loosestrife, Blue Egnima salvia, and soon enough there
will
be Autumn clematis, Autumn Joy sedum, regular house leek sedum with
those
pinkish white stars that entrall the bees and wasps. Zebrina's are
getting
their second wind but since I cut the trunks of the large plants,
their
children have made up for it by returning in smaller, thinner plants.

Rosea, Bright eyes, Lime Rock Ruby coreopsis as well as the varigated
phlox
is blossoming, and Joe Pye is making buds. Gaura in a pot has
returned
strongly when I wasn't paying attention and the pink butterflies hover
above
the mound of burgandy leaves. Part the "hair" of the moonbeam
coreopsis
I
planted in my mom's concrete urn planter and then as an after thought,
a
Commander Hay sempervivum reveals the coreopsis has grown thru and
around
the semp almost obscurring it from sight until you see a flash of
somber
burgandy purple/green and parting the fine foliage reveals the hens
and
chicks and makes you smile.

A spagatti pot strainer planted in assorted types has revealed a
persistant
sowing of columbine. I will leave it. Next year it will tickle me to
see
it
blooming in the pot hanging off the bent rebar five foot above the
bed's
soil.

There are more, but my mind slips and I am tired. This is enough for
now.
I
hope you enjoyed my brief but rambling sharing of late happinesses.
Thanks
for allowing me the time to share this with you. Until later, I hope
everyone's gardens are doing wonderfully. (I have tomato's in the pot
on
the deck!)
always yours, madgardener, up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler,
overlooking a stormy English Mountain, mist and cloud enshrouded
Douglas
Lake in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36 (if it's not 36, let
me
know now since I've changed to 7 instead of 6b)