On Thanks Giving

For Hale Mana

 

For warm sunshine that lights up my bling.

For the 'Aina

For all it gives.

For elbow room

And lasting monuments.

For a beautiful afternoon

Before winter arrives Tuesday morning.

For a Holiday Tree that channels the heaven's fire. Thanks giving.

 

Light Quality

I'm not home most days when the sun finally rises high enough to light up my Holiday Tree. Should there be sun. If calling it the Holiday Tree offends you, just get over it. There are a lot of holidays between now and when it leafs back out around May Day.

I have a tree full of bling for every occasion. The truth is my Japanese maple collided with a chandelier that shall remain nameless. 

Most days I get home to a deep blue shadow after the sun has shined on all my bling.

I got home a bit earlier today when the shadow wasn't so dense. That makes a big difference in what the camera sees and the mood of the garden in pictures.

The light keeps changing.

There are many moods in a garden in motion.

And many moods in time.

 

Watching

I have done some light editing of skylights and will brush the fallen leaves off the evergreens as I wander about in the blue light of a mountain's shadow.

For the most part, the Lush vanishes on its own.

I wait. I watch.

I marvel at the eerie beauty of decay. A day will come, after the first snow perhaps, when select remnants will get chopped down. The Under Garden of winter is near ready to come out. I'm not quite ready yet.

The Decay

It is most fascinating to watch another garden being born.

November's Flower

I could have gone hunting for leftover asters and mums. I did have some fall blooming crocus last week. But in November I know where to look for fresh flowers. There is a hint in the right side edge of this picture.

The native Witch Hazel, Hamamelis virginiana, blooms now. It is the very last flower of the year. A cold front was incoming and the wind was blowing rough. I was lucky to get one picture in good focus. That is my flower for Bloom Day.

I did get a few gardening chores done this weekend before the wind blew in. The roadside vegetable garden was tidied. I still have beets, parsnips, carrots and potatoes to dig. That needs to coincide with an urge to cook which continues to prove problematic. Sister #2 keeps insisting I could handle boiling some water. It does seem reasonable enough.

Do dried flowers count? I left one big clump of ironweed standing just for the sculptural effect.

It's about to turn coldish for the week. The Witch Hazels will finish blooming. All will be ready for winter. There won't be any more fresh flowers out there until mid to late January when the snowdrops and hybrid Witch Hazels start to bloom. Yes in January.

December shall remain the one bloomless month of the year. Now I have a sign to remind me. They'll be back next year.

Incoming Under Garden

The light has changed.

By the time I get home most days, the garden is fully shadowed by the mountain across the byway.

The decay is ongoing and will be enhanced this week by several freezing mornings, as if winter might arrive. The Under Garden is coming. Let's go wander about.

Fall Remnants

After one killing frost and a few weeks of dry, the decay of the tall flower meadow is well under way.

The barren time draws near.

The bits of color that remain are quite colorful. The Rough Bark Japanese maple had enough time to make color this year. Sometimes it gets frozen brown before that can happen.

It is joined by two oak saplings. Oaks are the last to color up and drop their leaves. The mountains are currently red, orange and barren.

Hurricane waters #5 is scheduled to begin in the night and be a flood watch until Thursday evening. Could be some big waters.

That will probably knock all the rest of the leaves off of things.

The Fothergilla will be done until it blooms in late April.

Blue Mondo berries will get eaten.

Wind, more rain and further decay, the meadow will be pressed and chopped back into the earth from which it sprang.

It won't be long. The Under Garden will soon be out for the winter.

The Christopher Mello Tree

It wouldn't be fair to completely blame my tree glitter on him.  He did have some influence. 

 

I have not been to Christopher's West Asheville garden in several years. It may be gone. He was anticipating the sale of the property.

But I know where he lives and I knew there would be a new garden one day, sooner rather than later. Christopher Mello is a gardener. That's what we do. I've heard things. I should invite myself over this spring.

The truth is I come by my tree glitter naturally. I have been decorating gardens with trinkets and bling, found objects and rocks forever. I have objects in my possession found when I was a teenager.

When I moved here, for the first time in my life I owned my own garden. I didn't have to consider any other opinions on my landscaping and decorating. Then I went to Asheville.

 

And it was filled with garden glitter. Yes, you may too.