Category Archives: Flowers
To the Red Barn, Fernwood Nursery, and John’s Ice Cream
Yesterday was a finest kind of day, even though it was hotter than heck—in the 90s. For Mother’s Day, Shannon gave me a gift certificate to the fabulous Red Barn––thank you, Shannon!—and our first stop was lunch. I had one of my favorite things—a delectable lobster roll—and Clif had fish and chips and a side order of onion rings.
After that, it was on to Fernwood Nursery in Montville, where I met my blogging friend Denise Sawyer and her husband Rick. A note about blogging friends in general and Denise in specific: Blogging has enhanced my life in unexpected and utterly delightful ways. In this country and in many others, through blogging, I have met a wonderful, creative group of people who inspire me. You might even call this a far-flung community of kindred spirits.
I met Denise in a roundabout way, through an Irish blog called The Aran Artisan. As it turned out, Melissa, of the Aran Artisan, is originally from Maine, and Denise, one of her followers, lives in Maine now. Hence the connection. Denise found out I was Franco-American and very kindly sent me a book about Franco-Americans. I discovered Denise and her husband own a nursery that specializes in shady plants.
I have a shady yard and gardens with, ahem, a few holes. As Fernwood Nursery is within driving distance of where we live, Clif and I decided to make the trek to Montville after our Red Barn lunch.
What a treat to visit Denise, Rick, and their delightful nursery tucked in the woods. Truly, it felt like Clif and I were connecting with old friends, even though we had never met. Despite this being a very busy time for Fernwood, Denise graciously took time to talk with us and to give us advice about planting in dry shade. I came home with a Solomon’s seal, just perfect for that aforementioned hole in the garden.
Denise also told us a little about herself, about how she came from an old Connecticut family that dates back to the 1600s. Rick is from the Lewiston/Auburn area, and they own about twenty acres of land in Montville, which not only supports the nursery but also provides about 85 percent of what they eat.
Most of the land remains wooded, and Denise is quite rightly proud that they get so much out of a small footprint, their livelihood as well as a lot of their food.
As we sat outside in wicker chairs, I heard the clucking of chickens in a nearby pen, big with plenty of room to peck and scratch. In the background came the melodious song of large wood chimes, and it almost seemed as though the woods were singing.
Denise and Rick have what can only be called a flair for making their nursery a lovely place. Green, green, and green, so bright yet soothing. Lots of little containers tucked with different varieties of hens and chicks. Double-blossom white trilliums. Arresting sculpture.
Here are some pictures of Fernwood Nursery.
As Denise noted, “It’s a good place to be.”
It most certainly is, and we look forward to visiting again.
Now, you might be wondering how in the world we ended the day that would be in keeping with seafood and a delightful nursery.
Following Denise’s suggestion, we went to John’s ice cream.
As the sign indicates, the ice cream is handmade and oh so delicious.
What a good life we have!
Up Close and Personal with a Sunflower
Bee-Dazzled!
Oh, that purple flower and those gossamer wings. Every once in a while a photographer gets lucky, where the light, the focus, and the subject all come together. A very happy Sunday for me.
Hydrangeas, Rose Petals, and Little Red Apples: Late Summer in Maine
Summer is winding down, and as always, I have mixed feelings about this. The days are getting shorter, and already I miss the extra light. In the summer at day’s end, Clif and I like to sit on the patio, have drinks, and chat. Only a month or so left where we’ll be able to do that. Our time for barbecues and grilled bread is also winding down. The gardens are looking ragged.
On the other hand, this summer has been very hot and humid, and I am ready for cooler weather. By late afternoon, both Clif and I are zapped. It’s been this way in Maine for several years—quite unlike summers when I was young—and it’s my guess that this is the new norm for Maine. The bonus: September has become utterly delightful, almost like “old” August, and this means we can squeeze in a few more patio gatherings than we could in year’s past.
Whatever the season, there is always something interesting to see by the lake where we park the car when we go on our bike ride.
Looking out onto the lake.
Oh, hydrangeas!
A closer look.
Closer still.
Hanging rose petals.
Little red apples. (In the spring, I took a picture of this tree when it was a froth of white.)
A Curve of White Through Yellow, a Leg Full of Pollen
Summer is winding down, and so are the gardens at the little house in the big woods, which are at their best in June and July. Still, despite their raggedness, there are still things to admire and find in the garden.
This curve of white through yellow.
This leg full of pollen.
The crickets sing, the grasshoppers buzz, and the yellow jackets, out in force this year, pester us when we eat on the patio. (Not everything is sublime at the little house in the big woods.)
Such a sweet, sad time of year, when the dark comes earlier and earlier. I love fall and the crisp energy it brings, but I am always sorry to say farewell, for another year, to the flowers and the hummingbirds and the loons.
Raindrops on Flowers but No Whiskers on Kittens
Flip the Calender and Raise a Glass
Flip the calendar to August. Say goodbye to July and to the evening primroses, whose bright yellow made the gardens positively glow. But hello to the black-eyed Susans and daylilies. For the gardens at the little house in the big woods, this will be the last burst before fall. After that, the plants have a tattered, tired look. They have given their all, and by the end of the month they are exhausted, bloomed out and chewed by slugs, snails, and beetles.
But oh, the first of August, when my favorite daylily blooms. Such a red beauty.
However, the other daylilies are lovely, too.
Less showy but much appreciated are the black-eyed Susans, and sometimes I even catch a little inhabitant of the garden.
Another little inhabitant.
The crickets have begun their song of late summer and fall. Such a lovely but sad chorus, a harbinger of dark, cold days when the flowers are gone and there are no more patio days.
But enough of that! We have at least one more month of summer, where we can spend much of the time on the patio. Last weekend, our friends Dawna and Jim cane over. She brought her delectable margaritas, and we raised our glasses high as we said farewell to July and toasted August, one of the most beautiful months in Maine.
Too bad we couldn’t trade the tiresome, irksome month of March for another month of August. How would that work? It wouldn’t, of course.
Only in my dreams.
Little Winged Visitor
Oh, I wish I could hold one of these ethereal beauties in my hand and feel the wings tickle my palms. I never will, of course, as it certainly wouldn’t be good for the bird. Still, I like to imagine it as I watch the birds come to my garden.
Of Blooms and Maya and the Book of Everything
At the little house in the big woods, in mid-July, the gardens went into a slump after the glorious burst at the beginning of the month. But now they’ve gathered themselves again with the bosoming of the daylilies. (Eliza, so sorry you missed them! But flowers will be flowers, and they bloom in their own time.)
I am also happy to report that we—Clif and me—are making great progress with my YA fantasy book Maya and the Book of Everything. All the material for the first part—synopsis, blurbs, and other necessary information—is done and ready to go. Clif is designing an oh-so-lovely author’s website for me. I know. I am lucky to live with a computer geek who also has terrific graphic sensibilities. However, I did have to ask him to remove the flying saucer he put in over the castle. (There are no flying saucers in Maya, but there is indeed a castle.)
I have ideas brewing for a presentation, if I am fortunate enough to be asked.
Busy, busy, busy! But in such a great way.
Soon, I will be sharing the cover.
