In the Pasture

Lobelia

Poke berries

Ironweed

Lobelia and Black-eyed Susans

 

On the Roadsides

Soapwort (Bouncing Bet)

Chicory

Phlox

Queen Anne's Lace

Bee Balm

Five common wildflowers blooming on our western North Carolina roadsides just now.

Can you guess which are native and which are introduced? The  introduced ones probably arrived with the earliest colonists hundreds of years ago. 

Here's  a hint -- three are introduced.  I'll give the answer in the comments later in the day...

Out and About

The unseasonably warm weather has brought out a Northern Water Snake, 
warming himself at the feet of the crane . . .
.
 The clematis are blooming . . .
 
Last year's collards are bolting -- pretty yellow flowers signalling the end. 
Time to pull them up and give them to the chickens, making room for new plants. 

The asparagus are shooting up -- needing to be picked almost every day.

I'm encouraging them with a nice thick mulch of shaving and horse manure -- courtesy of Ruby, our tenants' horse, and of John, who brought it up to the garden

Willa and Ali enjoy digging holes. 

Miss Susie Hutchins watches in smug superiority.

William relaxes.

That isn't a weed, there on the edge of the asparagus bed.

It's Blue-Eyed Grass -- a tiny wild iris. The bloom is about the size of my little finger nail.

The thrift, aka creeping phlox, is beginning to fade.

Lilies of the valley -- one of my very favorite fragrances-- are blooming.

In the same shady woodland garden, a Wake Robin peeks out.

I think these are Spanish Squills -- but they could be English wood hyacinths...

This below is a native yellow trillium.

I cleared out the old collards and kale and broccoli, John tilled up the box beds,
 and I got some seeds in -- hoping for rain soon

This rhododendron starts out with coral buds, opens pale pink, 
and eventually becomes a pretty pinkish-yellow.

Another wild iris -- Crested Dwarf Iris grow at the edge of the woods. 

 

Dent de Lion

Is it a weed or a wildflower? Dandelions are showing their cheerful sunny faces all over our farm just now.

Its jagged edged leaves, which account for the name “Tooth of the Lion,” pop up in gardens and lawns everywhere. Perfectionists deplore the dandelion but herbalists  value its diuretic powers. (An old name for dandelion was ‘Piss-a-beds.') 

In earlier times, the young leaves were a welcome Spring addition to the diet as a salad (or 'sallet' in the old time speech)or briefly sautéed with bacon and seasoned with a little vinegar.

And, of course, there's dandelion wine. It sounded so magical-- all summer in a bottle--in the Ray Bradbury tale of the same name but was truly foul in my one (failed) attempt at making it years ago.

Have any of you ever tasted -- or made dandelion wine?

 

Summer Solstice

The wheel of the year turns again. (This morning's sunrise was hidden in fog and cloud so last year's solstice sunrise will have to do.)

The wildflowers of summer time adorn the fields -- Queen Anne's Lace . . .

. . . the tiny two-petaled Day Flower -- the blue of a summer sky . . . and many-flowered mullein. The Brits grow a tame version called Verbascum but we are fortunate to have these stately (almost six foot) volunteers popping up everywhere.

Onward into summer -- which looks to be a hot one.