Purple Oxalis or Shamrock

 

I first fell in love with oxalis, when I discovered all the variety in this genus.  The purple three-leaf Oxalis  triangularis is the one pictured here. This post was inspired by a comment from Tatyana about my deep purple leaf.  I am enchanted with every aspect of this plant. It's leaves have a number of different shades of purple on their leaves. Each leaf is a triangle and they close like an umbrella when the sun shines on them or night comes.

  

  

The genus hails from Mexico, South Africa, and Brazil, but has spread to many countries. It grows year round here, but doesn't flower in the heat. It is also called wood sorrell and is edible, although I've never eaten it. Perhaps it would do in a salad, having a somewhat bitter taste. I love looking at it so much, I've never thought to eat it.

   

Its blossom is lavender, although it's a little hard to tell in this photo.  The blossoms also close at night and in the sun.  Mine is so used to Southern California now that only a week after a heat wave and temperatures  now in the 80s, it has started to bloom again.

 

 This is the small bed they live in with a cyclamen, impatience, and heather. As it gets cooler I'm going to add more oxalis to this bed, but two different varieties. I'll share those with you after they're up.

 

Peace in the Garden

 

Now that the fires are under control and heat has abated, a peace has permeated the garden.

The stress for the plants is less and they seem to breathe out and relax.

The garden spirits are back at their daily work, rather than trying to sustain the plants in difficult times.

 

The mornings are cool; there is even a breeze from the ocean.

Listening into the silences between the leaves and hearing the plants talk to me is possible.

  

  

  

  

 I can hear the voices of garden spirits whisper, giggle, and sigh.

The peace reaches into all aspects of garden life.

I feel I can talk to my plants in admiration and love for their beauty.

They love to hear these things and flourish.

 

  

We are all ready for the fall to overtake us and fill the garden with a new kind of life.

Wordless Wednesday

 

  

 
 

  

 

Praying Mantis

It was a special moment! To find the graceful, yet most unusual form of the mantis by my door.  Excitedly I ran indoors to get the camera to capture this special visitor to my garden. They are welcome visitors to the organic garden, as they consume insects that prey on our plants.  They dine on aphids, moths, crickets, grasshoppers and are even fast enough to catch mosquitoes and flies. I hope this one has laid eggs in my garden.

"I am the praying mantis. I have come to care for your garden.  With my grace and stealth I will protect your plants from insects that would harm them. I only visit gardens I want to save."

The word mantis in Greek means "prophet" or "fortune teller."  They are called praying mantises, because their front legs often bend as if in prayer.  Images of mantis in praying gesture.  In Europe the word praying mantis is used to refer to a specific species.  They are from the family of Mantidae.  They are masters of disguise, as you can see from the above photo, where the mantis has chosen foliage close to his/her color to inhabit.

 

Comparing the two photos one can see the movements of the head.  They can move their heads as much as 300 degrees.  And they have large eyes to aid their powers of vision.

  

" I can see all you are doing, but know that you do not want to harm me. I know the human admiration and awe of my form. You are welcome to observe me." I almost feel that a wise creature speaks to me out of this mantis. It carries the aura of wisdom. 

I caught a number of images of the mantis preparing for and cleaning his foot. If you want to see it even closer, you can see his tongue and mandibles cleaning the end of his segmented foot.

 

 

Cleaning his foot

 

The joy at finding this special creature in my garden remained with me all yesterday afternoon.  An insect so otherworldly, yet so helpful to the garden is a welcome, very special visitor.

" I will come back again, when you least expect to help you care for your garden. Farewell, human." Farewell, little beast. I will look for your return.

Scotch Pine

From Christmas Tree

to

Large Bonsai Shape

 

Most of the trees branches bend toward the West.

  

Placed outside in its Christmas pot,

it burst through the sides.

Only to find the sun striking it from the West,

behind the fence and house.

So it grew toward the sun,

branches curving bonsai-like.

But no hand wrought this tree.

It bent to seek the Sun

and found its own beauty.

Who But a Gardener

Who but a gardener would have the interest to see the garden ornaments I have or tchotchkes, as the man about the house calls them.  He took great glee in laughing at me as I carefully set up the shots.  So, I ask you, where else can I share all of this with any hope of interest? And I love each one and take great joy in sharing.  No visitor to my garden ever seems to notice, except the very few, who are interested in only one. Thank goodness for the blotanists and any interlopers. Just note that you can read my comments or simply enjoy the pictures, as you would at a gallery showing.

One of my favorites, the garden gargoyle. Is he thinking,drowsing? I believe he sees all behind his closed eyes. He's my greatest protector from bad spirits, as on the Gothic churches.

The next two are griffins, also from Gothic churches, with the body of a lion and the head of an eagle. They are reputed guards of treasure, which is my garden, of course.They both have such character. The one clinging to the shelf is an eccentric characteur--I love it! And I place them carefully in the garden to take full advantage of their powers.

 

A few odds and ends to give you an idea of the variety of my non-plant additions.

 

 
  

 

 

 This representation of the Italian winds was a gift that has happily found a place in the large square garden, my first effort at gardening when I moved here.

 

My only conventional garden statue, St. Francis, near the bird feeders, since he talks to the birds. The Mayan calendar, below, is a little worse for wear since the squirrels decided to teeth on one side.

 

A sundial, above, that doesn't tell the correct time, alas. And my Genesa crystal, that is specially made from an old design to pull the air in and out rarefying it. There is a clear quartz in the center to bring more harmony into the garden. I do find my garden more peaceful since its arrival. They come in copper, too, but that's a good deal more expensive.

Thank you for taking the time to look at my little treasures. Hope I haven't overwhelmed you.
Perhaps you were inspired by some of them. 

They do that to me daily, which is why I have them.

I've looked back over this post and found it a bit long, but what can I leave out. I've just gone a little nuts over this blogging. The Man doesn't seem to mind that I've something I can obsess over. And I am just pouring my heart out.  Finally, a place where I can share about my crazy obsession with gardening and find companions to this lovely insanity.

Dreams of Autumn

LET US CELEBRATE ORANGE PAST AND PRESENT  The fall color of the north does not come here until November and December.  Even then it is moderate. But having lived in mid-state New York for near on 20 years, I still feel autumn start now.  Even though I don't miss the winters, I do miss fall.  So I celebrate orange today.

 

 Pumpkins are the center piece.  Even though orange flowers are few in my garden's pastel palette, they are ones that are remembered here.

 The bird of paradise is magnificent when it blooms.  Soon I will have two new blooms. Even though it is the LA flower, it was brought over by settlers from South Africa.  It didn't seem real to me before moving here some 8 years ago. That's why I had to have one in my small garden. Now that it's grown, I have to prune it often, lest it impede the narrow walkway.

The miniature rose and small zinnia blossoms bring orange to my eyes in pleasant array.

Two shades of orange from the same rose bush enhance the vision of autumn.  In the North there would be leaves of this color, which I can only imagine here.

  

More pumpkins, these from last year.  Dreams of an autumn I only see in those few trips to New York in the fall.

A walk in a Ukranium camp in October 2006.  One of my last tastes of the lovely autumn in the North.