English Dogwood

Bordering the back property line of our flat, long-neglected, wildflower and mushroom filled backyard runs an old, misshapen, fairly ugly chain link fence. Growing in, through and among the fencing are volunteer trees and brambles and rambling plants. The hubs began whacking back the growth last winter but gave out and gave up way before spring. Thankfully. Because two rambling plants turned out to be English Dogwood.




Regular readers may recall this discovery last year as well as a shout-out asking to help identify these flowers. Since we'd recently moved all my gardening books were packed up and I'd no way to ID these beauties. My "Twinnie," Carroll shot me an e-mail, telling me that these grew in her grandmother's house in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. Her grandmother Bess called them English Dogwoods, and by cracky that's exactly what I have growing in my backyard.



These two English Dogwoods of ours are blooming this week like crazy. Each one is at least 10-12 feet high, cascading overhead, dancing on the wind and covered in white blooms. They are so beautiful and captivating. I've fallen in love with them and have given them names - Hattie and Bess, after Carroll's grandmother Bess in Hattiesburg.




The blossoms carry very little to no scent. There are no thorns. When the blooms fade the towering greenery provides a soft green background.



Wednesday morning Carroll sent me an e-mail. "FYI. Today is the anniversary of my grandmother, Mom Bess's death in 1968. Tell Bess and Hattie I am thinking about them today."

I did just that, and took these photos to share. Because I always photograph these beauties this time I tried to channel Georgia O'Keefe as much as possible.




My usual MO is to take closeups of the blossoms but I want to try to give you an idea of their overall beauty. Above is Bess, whose shape is really the best because the hubs never got far down the fence line with his whacking. If you look closely you can see Baylee meandering to the left.




A garden bench would be perfect beneath either or both. Delicate limbs support a gazillion white flowers overhead, texturing the ground beneath with dimpling, dancing sunlight. A perfect place for reading, journaling or pondering.




I found a delightful article about English Dogwoods on Al.com by Debbie M. Lord. If you have time and are interested in knowing more about these plants she offers terrific background on them and shares their wonderful history. "Whatever Happened to English Dogwoods?"





On this day the breeze was cool and blustery, and during the rare times of stilled wind the sun was warm on my face. Because this was Grandmother Bess's birthday and these plants are named in her honor the time spent with them felt sacred and special. I thought of Carroll, knowing how she would have loved to have been with me, sharing stories of Bess and her family, her childhood.




However, knowing Hattie and Bess are just outside, in the backyard, visible from my windows, lends a connection to my friend in joyous fashion. One simply cannot be wistful when Hattie and Bess are blooming their hearts out. I'm reminded instead of glorious walks in gardens, adventurous road trips and heartfelt conversations for hours.




Friendships are such gifts. I feel blessed to have found such wonderful women all over the county, the world, who teach me so much. Sharing plants, sharing stories connect women. There are the occasional man who enjoys the practice as well, so I should not generalize. However, my experience has been that women trading plants connect them on a cosmic, organic level.




English Dogwood is reported to be easy to grow in the South, and by the looks of these thick, green, wildly-blossoming examples I would say that's true. These look like they were planted and forgotten. Indeed, pruning is not necessary and I dare say would spoil the natural beauty of its dancing branches. I can personally attest to this plant growing in extremely poor soil, in mostly shady conditions, forgotten completely by whomever planted them. Likely, you could plant one and then just stand back, grab a glass of wine and watch it grow.

English Dogwood. My new favorite plant.

Shibui

A watercolor artist friend of mine signed me up to a twice-weekly newsletter that I am really enjoying. The newsletter's author, Robert Genn, is an accomplished artist. As well, his style of writing is thoughtful, intelligent and wide-reaching. This is more than a newsletter for the painting artist, but is an insightful, thought-provoking, teaching newsletter that covers all spectrum of the creative. I've learned so much, including terminology that apply to arts of all kinds.

Like "shibui." From Mr. Genn's May newsletter "Shibui is a broad term that can mean irregularity of form, openness to nature, roughness of texture, and the naturalness of daily life. Also known as Shibusa, it refers as well to the Japanese "Seven aspects of being," which are simplicity, implicitness, modesty, silence, naturalness, roughness and normalcy. It's seen in raku pottery, architecture, folk crafts, haiku, gardens and painting. Shibui is worth thinking about no matter where you are or what your art."

Sharing this particular newsletter topic with my road trip buddy, Carroll, she began lamenting that she had zero artistic tendencies. I vehemently disagreed. She is a fabulous cook, putting the term "shibui" into play with each dollop of cream or sprinkle of herb. Rarely does she use a cookbook, choosing instead to pull culinary masterpieces together from what's in the cupboard on any given day. She does this successfully day after day with yummy results. THAT is artistic, as are her cottage gardens that are delightful paintings of blossoms sprouting up randomly and sporadically through flagstone pathways. Man...can you get any more artistic than that? I think not. Cooking and gardening are shibui in action.

Had I known of this term before I might have titled my blog "Shibui." Many of you are aware of the inner struggle I'm having with whether to keep my blog random or reign it in to one subject. However, Life blesses me with so many lessons each day that I just can't hold it all in. One day I'm compelled to write about a family member and another day some bold insight comes to me during a walk and I have to share it. My thought process is irregular in form. Obviously, I'm extraordinarily open to nature. I'm drawn to roughness of textures, whether tree bark, surfaces of stones or pollen covering a bee's legs. These details and patterns tell a deeper part of nature's stories and reflect the naturalness of daily life.

My blog is an artistic outlet for me. Blending music and photos with writing feeds a need deep within my soul. Further, communicating with like minds and meeting people around the world deposits another layer to my personality and character. My blog shall remain random and will remain Giraffe Head Tree as the concept of shibui will always be in the back of my mind.

If you are interested please do check out The Painter's Keys and sign up. I promise you will not be disappointed.

Peace.

The sign on the door reads...

Three years of drought and no real spring and injuries and no gardening all came to a screeching halt several weeks ago. We have had the most glorious, perfect, exhilarating Spring we've seen in a long, long, long time. Folks, I had to go out and garden! I've hauled rocks for new borders, I've planted roses, lantana, geraniums, tomatoes and herbs. We've cleared the bank and are preparing it for the native azaleas. I've weeded and mulched and pruned and created paths. Every day I hit the garden before dawn and worked most of the day. I simply could not sit down in front of a computer - it was not possible!

Today, it is raining so I have to stay inside and do indoor stuff....hence my first post in weeks. I've taken a few shots and will take many more in days to come.

My front porch with the ferns, coleus and geraniums and sedums and dwarf alberta spruces, fresh mulch, new rocks. Time to pressure wash the ole' sidewalk, I see.

I love the way the sweetspires cascade over the sidewalk. These long white blooming tassels attract all manner of butterflies, especially the Red-Spotted Purple swallowtails which I've not seen yet but watch for them with great anticipation.

This is one of two baby Rainbow Knock-Out Roses. They bloomed on the second day after planting and have bloomed every day since! These will be exquisite when they're fully grown. This particular rose will only get up to 4' high and wide, is completely resistant to black spot, mildew and rust. How perfect is that?

My guilty pleasure - sedums. I blew too much money early this spring on sedums simply because I love them. The kind of cabbagy looking plant in the tall blue pot is called "Hobbit's Foot," which is all I had to read - that was going in my yard in some capacity. The green pot upper left is a Silky Dogwood received for free from TVA upon attending a seminar on riparian zones. That will go on my bank along with the native azaleas. Most of the rocks I'm still in the process of placing came from a bank next to Wheeler Dam and are filled with all manner of fossils.

These are Virginia Sweetspire "Henry's Garnet." They are indigenous, sporting chartreuse leaves and white tassel blooms in spring. The word "garnet" comes into play during the winter, as the leaves shed to expose these amazing reddish-purple/burgundy stems. They turn 5 years old this year, and this is the prettiest they've ever been. They are literally stopping traffic. If I'm outside people ask what they are. Why they're not planted more I'm not sure. They do tend to colonize, so I'm constantly uprooting new shoots, but they root easily and I sell them in the Master Gardener annual plant sale. And give to friends! They're great on our banks.

Just so you all know that I'm still alive. In fact, I'm more alive than ever and outside playing in the dirt! (excuse me..."soil," for all you master gardeners out there - LOL!)