Saturday, May 31, 2008

Who'd've Believed It

A seriously black flower has always been like the elusive Holy Grail. You read about them, see them promoted in catalogs, but they are never truly black, just a really dark something else. That was my impression. Maybe I don't get out enough.

My impression has been proven wrong.




Everything around it has crumbled and turned to dust. The hearth at its feet looks precarious. Some mighty winds roar through this gap consistently. Trees snap in half. This chimney still stands.




Plants that I did not know existed on this mountain appear out of nowhere. And then some more show up when I start looking.




The first Daisies, Leucanthemum vulgare have begun to bloom. It means summer is here, that I have been here for a full year, a full gardening season. This was a dominant flower upon my arrival to the low spot on a North Carolina mountaintop last June.




I still get to see what I missed last year. Columbine are everywhere. I mean everywhere.



Only the stragglers were still blooming last year in mid June.




Through a first cold winter I stacked rocks to keep myself busy, the plastic covered floor of a cabin above me. The months moved along at their own pace, not really dragging, but slowly enough to make a whole house seem a distant, vague illusion.

A new phase has begun.



The roof section for the front living room end of the cabin is rising from stacks of lumber.



Who'd've believed it?



There really is a seriously black flower.

9 comments:

Blackswamp_Girl said...

So a full year in NC... that's all it took you to get sucked into the roses, eh? ;)

Seriously, I can't believe all that you've accomplished on your cabin in that time... not to mention all the fun we've had in discovering the resident gardeners' gardens along with you.

And yeah, that's a seriously black iris. Wow.

Frances, said...

Hi Christopher, what a difference a few boards make. To see the pitch of the roof, means the completed project can be really seen, beyond just a vision in your mind. Your black iris is so elegant. I have superstition, the older black, but there are newer, blacker ones, is that what is growing there? Columbines covering the mountain? Magic!

Christopher C. NC said...

Kim I hope this rose thing doesn't take a turn for the worse. It has been a real pleasure for me to discover the resident gardeners collections. "It's 2008, do you know what your parents have been up to for the last twenty years?"

I'll have to ask if the name of the black Iris is known Frances. I will breathe a real sigh of relief when the two roof sections are lifted onto the cabin and set in place.

chuck b. said...

Isn't there some widely known black iris from Louisiana?

As a daily reader, I can see in these pictures how the quality of light has changed dramatically of late outside Clyde.

Chrisss said...

Wow, you're right it's a black iris. Glad to see your cabin coming along nicely.

Annie in Austin said...

That year was so full of discoveries - no wonder it went fast, Christopher. Your mountain is so lovely - thanks for sharing it with us!

I am totally smitten with that black iris. I sure hope Barbarella can find out the name.

Annie

Christopher C. NC said...

I asked. Bulbarella has no clue what the name of the black Iris is.

Annie I don't think a whole year is enough time to get to know this place intimately. More will be discovered I am sure.

Annie in Austin said...

The only semi-black one I've seen growing was 'Superstition'. I just went over to Schreiners and saw 'Midnight Oil' and 'Old Black Magic'. They'd fade so fast here it would be seriously stupid to try, but so tempting.

At least I can grow those little black violas in winter.

Enjoy the discoveries, Christopher- and it's easy for me to relate to the resident gardeners delighting in you seeing everything unfold.

Annie

Christopher C. NC said...

Annie some more questioning revealed the black Iris came from Schreiners! I can tell the resident gardeners are very pleased and surprised a bit I think, by how well I am adapting and seem to belong here.