Pollinators!

                                                                                    

Thanks Again, Martha!

• They always catch me by surprise -- one day a bunch of tight green buds and then suddenly a glorious explosion of deep pink. And I always think of Martha Stewart and the article in her magazine about her bed of tree peonies that inspired me to acquire one of these magnificent shrubs.

I'd love to have more--but they aren't cheap.

And maybe I wouldn't appreciate this one so much if there were more.

Whatever. But once again I raise a silent toast to Martha S.

 

She Has Outdone Herself!

Around thirty blooms on the tree peony greeted me yesterday.

They will be short-lived, as it's rather warm.

But the honeybees are making the most of this explosion of beauty.

 

She's Back!

                                                                                      

Possibly my favorite flower--at the moment, anyway, the tree peony has outdone herself this year with over 20 blooms.

In past years, late freezes have been hard on her, and I've been thrilled with four or five blooms. But this year, the weather was kind.

I'd never heard of tree peonies till some years ago when an article in Martha Stewart's magazine spotlighted Martha's gorgeous collection of these beauties.

They don't die back, like the more common herbaceous peonies, and they bloom much earlier. 

Such a beauty!

An Extra Day

Once every four years we get an extra day. Seems like it ought to be something special--a national holiday for running around and howling at the moon. Or whatever fun and foolish endeavor one might be drawn to.

Back in high school, we had Sadie Hawkins Day, on which girls asked boys to a dance called Twerp Twirl. It was kinda a big deal--the girl made a corsage for her date--of vegetables rather than flowers--and, if possible, took him to dinner before the dance. 

In our senior year, I took John. We double-dated, as we often did, with our friends Stephanie and Steve. I don't remember anything about the dance or the corsage, but I do remember that we splurged and took our dates to a really nice steakhouse called Steve's (different Steve) Rustic Lodge on Lake Thonotosassa.

Stephanie and Steve didn't endure as a couple, but John and I will be celebrating our 64th Sadie Hawkins Day together. We might howl at the moon--if we're still awake when she rises.

 

Tree Peonies--Be Still My Heart

 

Thank You, Martha!

Months go by without Martha Stewart crossing my mind. Now and then I might recognize that I'm having a Martha Stewart moment -- when I iron the linen hand towels, for example, or when I spend half a day carefully swabbing the dust and scale residue from a ficus tree -- leaf by tedious leaf. (One of those trees has been with  me for over forty years, the other almost thirty so I do tend to baby them.)

Nope, now that I no longer subscribe to her magazine, Ms. Stewart lives her life and I live mine. BUT, when the tree peony at our entryway bursts into glorious bloom as it did on Wednesday, I send up a heartfelt 'Thank you, Martha!'

Because, until an article in her magazine some years ago, I'd never even heard of tree peonies. As it happens, they differ from their herbaceous brethren by blooming about a month earlier, by holding their flowers up rather than needing staking, and by not dying back to the ground every winter.

                                             

Martha, being Martha, had an impressive array of these beautiful plants at her home. And she made them sound easy and relatively trouble free. I was convinced and went forth and purchased two locally -- this red one and a pale pink one which has gotten overpowered by surrounding bushes on a lower slope. It didn't bloom this year -- probably because of those bushes shading it -- but this is what it looked like when it did.                            

Obviously, it's time to get serious about pruning back those bushes.

But this red one proves Ms. Stewart was right -- it's chugged along, producing more blooms every year and (and this is HUGE) not getting eaten by the deer that snack on the azalea that is its nearest neighbor.  

I think I need more. Perhaps a white or a pale, pale lavender to begin with. . .

You can see some of the many varieties HERE . . .

After the Ball...

 Sun and Rain and Wind -- all have had their way with the tree peonies,

Those brazen huzzies -- weary and bedraggled . . .
 
Silken finery, drooping, fading . . .

 Reduced to crimson tatters . . .

That linger briefly but, at last, must fall.

 

Tree Peony

I've been following her progress over the past two weeks . . .

She starts out shy, sealed tight in gray-green, but as the sun caresses her
she slowly unveils a tantalizing glimpse of pink silk . . . 

She is helpless to resist his heated demands . . . 

Every day she grows bolder, spreading her petals . . .  

Wider and wider till her golden inmost parts smile back at the sun  . . .

Her sisters are equally shameless . . .

Garden floozies, the lot of them . . .

 

Oh, you torrid tree peonies!