Roses Everywhere

Roses in full bloom.  Last week we went to the Biltmore Estate specifically to see the rose gardens.  It was the weekend for the International Rose Trials.  And we were not disappointed.  The day was quite hot, overcast, and humid.  For the first time in my memory there was not even a small breeze.  But we were not there for the weather.  We were there for the roses.

Kahlil Gibran said,
The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns,
The pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious to the roses.

We were not oblivious to the roses.  And since one is obviously forbidden to touch them, we didn't even think about thorns.  In the age of digital photography, one cannot stop taking pictures.  Far too many to share, so I will show you a sampling of the gardens.

One single beautiful rose

 I especially love the "old world roses."  The roses in this part of the garden are from centuries-old stock.

  

 Lots of climbing roses, displayed in beautiful forms

Roses

Roses everywhere

Of all sizes and colors

And each one lovely

 We wandered above the rose garden and found more beautiful flowers.

 I especially loved the pansies.  Such sweet little flowers

A person could spend hours admiring the gardens

Despite the oppressive weather, we had a great time.  And the weather made the ice cream all the more delicious.  After all, what's a visit to the Biltmore Estate without a stop at the dairy bar?

Don't Forget the Greenhouse

Easter egg hunts fill the weekend all over the country.  Perhaps the largest one around here takes place at the Biltmore Estate.  The children dash about picking up the eggs all over the lawn.  Story tellers and magicians provide additional entertainment.

Photograph from The Asheville Citizen-Times

Photographer: John Fletcher

Regular readers know that we visit the Biltmore Estate frequently.  We tend to focus on outside activities or the "special" guided tours.  On a recent visit we decided to go through the greenhouses.  While all the plants are impressive, the orchids grabbed my attention.

I love orchids and have grown them (one at a time) in the past.  They bloom for a very long time.  But then they stop blooming for a very long time and the plants without blossoms are not all that attractive.  My neighbor has a perfect place for growing orchids.  It's a bay window and she had the contractor put a large sunken area with a shallow sink in the window sill.  The sink has a liner containing rocks and water.  Fifteen or more orchids sit on these rocks and thrive.  At any given time she has so many of them blooming that one totally overlooks the other plants.  I'm glad she grows them.

I'm not a golf fan.  I never watch more than recaps of shots on television.  But you just have to love it when a man named "Bubba,"  a Floridian who went to college in Georgia, who never took a  golf lesson in his life, wins the coveted Green Jacket of the Master's Tournament.

A Visit to the Bass Pond

Regular readers know that we often visit the Biltmore Estate in Asheville.  Because we go often, we usually focus on one area.  For our visit last week, we decided to take the easy hike (more like a stroll) down to the Bass Pond.  Of course, we had to stop in the garden to see the mums so beautifully planted.

A glimpse through the gate gives a hint of what's in store.

 A profusion of mums in all different colors.

 The cypress knees look like a scene from a Tolkien novel.

 The water is calm and lovely.

 Some trees are bare but some color remains.

 Even the spillway is a work of art.

The arched bridge is also a work of art.

There were dozens of places one could have stopped and just sat, drinking in the color and the beauty of this magnificent and peaceful place.  We are indeed fortunate to have access to this wonderful place in all seasons.

Every visit to the estate brings the question of where we will have lunch.  In spite of the really great places to eat, we always wind up at the same location every time.  Where is that?  The Dairy Bar, of course.  Fresh ice cream made on the grounds.  It hardly gets any better than that.

Just a note about football and the Green Bay Packers.  They remain undefeated although Sunday's game gave us a bit of a fright.  Quarterback Aaron Rodgers threw touchdown passes to four different receivers and completed 21 of 26 passes during the game.  Right now there is not a better quarterback in the NFL.  We have nearly forgotten the previous Packer quarterback...Brett something or other.  [A note to Brett:  We're just fine if you go into the Football Hall of Fame with your #4 Viking jersey.]

They Grow Wild Here in the Mountains

What comes to mind when you hear the word "Magnolia?"  Chances are, you are visualizing Scarlett O'Hara, the characters in "Steel Magnolias" or other individuals from the deep south.  It is not likely that you are thinking of the mountains of North Carolina.  In truth, we have our own magnolias here in Western North Carolina mountains.  Scattered thoughout the forests, these lovely fragrant blossoms add an unexpected pleasure to a mountain hike.  Magnolia Fraseri, more commonly called Mountain Magnolia or Fraser Magnolia, was named for John Fraser (1750-1811).  A botanist, Fraser traveled from his native Scotland to the Appalachian Mountains collecting specimens of native flora.  The wild magnolias grow on rather spindly trees, not the stately lush green trees we see in southern yards.  But the blossoms are just as lovely.

This magnolia is growing on our property.

It has a sweet fragrance similar to the Southern Magnolia.

We are blessed to be surrounded by such a variety of trees and we especially appreciate those whose fragrance catches the breeze.  As my tee-shirt says, "Life is Good."

All the Days are Golden

Thanks for your positive thoughts for our injured player.  I am pleased to report that he is well on the road to recovery.  We couldn't be happier with his progress.  In no time at all he will be hiking the trails and life will return to our normal here in the mountains...and life is indeed better in the mountains.

Every February I keep a careful watch on one of my favorite plants.  Arnold's Promise is a beautiful witch hazel that brings bright golden blossoms here in the dead of winter.  The blossoms are a cure for the winter doldrums.  I cannot tell you what uplifting sight it is.  This February magic never fails to excite me.  As an added treat, the refreshing aroma fills the air with the slightest breeze.  When I open the front door I can smell the witch hazel and every year it is a breath-taking moment.

In addition to such a great outcome for the injured player, and Arnold's Promise fulfilled once again, we have had several days of record-breaking warm and sunny weather.  Life is good.  So very good.

We set up a temporary office for the injured player in the dining room.  The Golden Girls have maintained faithful vigil.  No matter where he chooses to sit Nurse Ellie and Nurse Lucy lie as near to him as possible, alert to his every need.  [OK, they are at least there if not so alert.]

We feel truly blessed with every single golden day.  In fact, even the cloudy days are golden to us right now.

There's Always A Swallow

I often wish PBS would do the "News Hour" at a different time. Watching the reports of news around the world often makes me a bit uneasy in the evenings. I find the in-depth reporting disturbing as I learn more and more components to big business and political madness. So afterwards I try to find ways of relaxing my brain and soothing my troubled spirit.

Many evenings I go down to a nearby lake and just sit and watch the swallows. I love the way they dip and zip and skim over the water snatching insects. Watching them is especially nice this time of year because they have nests full of little ones.

There are about six nests in this shelter so there is plenty of action. Watching the swallows go about their work is somehow soothing to me. It affirms that perhaps things may be all right after all. In a very short time, this spot will be filled with fluttering fledglings and what a sight that will be. It's comforting to know that year after year the swallows return to nest here and provide an evening's entertainment.


As I turned to leave the lakeshore, I stop to admire the Rose of Sharon. Not a rose at all, it is nonetheless a lovely bush that flowers all summer long.

So while I can't stop watching the news, I can still find peace at the lake and let my mind drift away from the troubling news of the day.

Mother Nature Will Win Every Time

When you live in the woods, you live close to nature. We have no grass and have carefully selected our plants. We have plants that are native to the area and generally not attractive to the deer, rabbits, and other nibblers.



There is an exception. I love camellias. I have loved them all my life. We live in an area that is not ideal for camellias. They are not native to the area. But I love them so we have them.



Every year we have tons of buds on our camellias. And every year they freeze, turn brown, and fall off. Fortunately, there are almost always three or four buds that make it to flower and warm my heart as winter comes to an end. This year we have six or seven flowers and more buds that might open.

The leaves of the camellia are a lovely green so even if we have no flowers we still enjoy the bushes. Not this year. I was too late with the deer deterrent and the lovely little beasts spent the evening munching on my camellia, stripping one side of this bush. I'm sure the leaves will return with no permanent damage.

I don't blame the deer. I'm sure they are grateful for the delicious treat I provided. They will no longer be interested in my camillias when I spread the deterrent and I will enjoy the few blossoms I have. Logic would tell me not to grow these lovely plants in our area. But logic doesn't appreciate my love for them. Every day I go out to admire the few blossoms. And sometimes, that is enough.

Spring Wildflowers and Another Sign of Spring

There are so many reasons to go walking through the woods. One can always find such interesting things. At this time of year, I am particularly searching for wildflowers. When nothing else is green, these beautiful flowers blossom every spring.

Another important sign of spring! A little garter snake, basking in the sun.

I've always loved garter snakes. A garter snake was my very first gift from a boy. We were ten and on a school field trip. My friend found a little green garter snake. He gave it to me. We decided the best place to keep him from the eyes of the teacher would be in my lunch box. So we stuffed some grass and the snake into my lunchbox.

----------When I got home from school that afternoon, I was excitedly telling my mother about the field trip. Before I got to the best part, she opened my lunch box to clean it. She screamed and dropped the box on the floor, spilling out the grass and the snake. My mother insisted I take the snake (whom I had already named Jake) outside and set it free.

----------The lunch box smelled terrible! Apparently Jake did not like the enclosure and being tossed around as I carried the box. He had secreted his famous foul smell. That was the end of my favorite lunch box.

----------Perhaps if I had introduced Jake under better circumstances, my mother might have let me keep him as a pet. But I doubt it. She was not fond of snakes or lizards and certainly didn't want them in the house. I made certain that my own children had snakes, lizards, salamanders, polywogs, and turtles as pets. We kept them for observation and then released them. Afterwards, the children were certain they could identify the very reptile or amphibian they had released when we came upon them in the wild.

The Great Divide

Recently our community garden club held its annual "Great Divide." This event provides an opportunity for neighbors to share perennials they have divided. Anyone is invited to bring plants, but bringing a plant is not required. Each person is allowed to take at least one plant, regardless of whether or not they brought anything.

The event is held at one of our parks and is always well attended.





There were displays of specialty plants and demonstrations of maintaining bonsai and other plants.

I particulary enjoyed the various birdhouses, handmade and donated by local residents. They were available for sale, with the profits going to the garden club.

There were demonstrations and displays by various organizations. The Department of Natural Resources provided information and displays of forest animals.

A pigeon breeder brought his pigeons and was very happy to talk about them.

I was amazed at the beauty of these birds. I asked the breeder why these pigeons are so lovely and the ones I usually see seem like nuisance birds. He had an immediate and simple answer, "Good nutrition and lots of love."

My husband and I each selected a plant. Here are the plants we chose last year. They are thriving and we have really enjoyed the fall blossoms.

I hope this year's selections do as well as these. In the spring we will divide the begonia, which has really taken over its space.

We enjoyed the day at the Great Divide. It's a wonderful opportunity to gather with neighbors and friends. We learned a great deal about plants that do well here in the mountains.

Oh, and did I mention they had wonderful refreshments?

Bits and Pieces

We share the environment with lots of deer. That said, my neighbor has been determined to grow lilies. As most of you may know, deer think of lilies as the best dessert around. They often pull off the large buds, not waiting for them to open. My friend has carefully watered, fertilized, and regularly spread deer deterrent around and on her lilies. They were beginning to bud when she left for a long vacation. She asked me to water her plants and care for her lilies.

The lilies are in full bloom, and I doubt they will still be blooming in another two weeks when my neighbor returns. I took my camera over and made a few photographs of her gorgeous lilies. At least she will have the pictures to enjoy.

Walking back to our house, I saw this butterfly, enjoying the Bleeding Hearts.

I came back and sat on the deck for half an hour, hoping to catch the little Pileated Woodpecker make a try for the suet feeder. No such luck. But I did turn around to find an obliging hummingbird.

Sometimes beauty comes at unexpected times.