South Carolina Botanical garden » The Enchanted Earth

umbrella

May 282010

I met this magnolia at the South Carolina Botanical Garden earlier this week, and strange as it sounds, I actually guessed part of its name just by walking beneath its canopy.

Meet Magnolia tripetala, commonly known as the Umbrella Magnolia. Maybe you can see why “umbrella” leaped to mind just from the photo above.

The tree itself is not shaped like an umbrella, but its vast leaves are arranged at the branch tips in distinct, overlapping groupings, and they certainly deserve the name. It is a very unusual-looking shade tree, made more so whenever the wind kicks up and the umbrellas bob and sway on their long, flexible handles.

A bizarre, Dr. Seuss-like image came to me as I considered it, of many people standing apart from each other, all resting beneath the scalloped shadow cast by their exclusive umbrella on the tree, chit-chatting away while wearing strangely modern versions of Victorian clothing, sipping tea from unmatched, antique tea cups with deep, “tremble” saucers… and appearing to do a strange dance every few minutes as the locations of their parasols changed.

I could see why lovers, in particular, would prefer a traditional shade tree with a large, enveloping canopy. This tree provided shade for the individual only — and only if she didn’t wish to sit down, but to remain on her feet and respond whenever the wind mischievously moved her cover a foot north.

The sun was just a little past its zenith when I went under the edge of one of the groups of beautiful leaves. It may have been an atypical shade choice, but it was delightful to take a cool break beneath a colossal, kelly green parasol that hung over the path.

My eye muscles relaxed; I hadn’t even realized I’d been squinting against the bright light. After all, I was wearing sunglasses.

It really must be summer here now. The sun is fierce enough to welcome the temporary refuge of an unorthodox shade tree during the heat of the day, and sometimes sunglasses are not enough protection from its brilliance.

For this Memorial Day weekend (today through Monday), F. and I are going on a teeny little getaway. Everyone needs a break, a refuge from everyday life now and again. It won’t be a major vacation, like the all-encompassing embrace of an old oak tree where you can doze the afternoon away. More like a little individual-sized portion, a breather, a pause under a pretty parasol conveniently propped over the path.

If it’s a holiday for you, too, I hope you also enjoy a sweet little interlude in the midst of your regularly scheduled life. If it’s not a holiday for you, well, enjoy your weekend anyhow, and maybe check by here for the couple of posts I’ve scheduled in advance.

I’ll see you when I return!

PDF

name that plant

Discoveries 26 Responses »

Mar 232010

In my wanderings recently, I’ve found two unlabeled beauties worth remembering, one a small tree and one a ground-hugging shrub, and I was thinking that with all the expertise and horticultural passion of my reader base, I could probably get some answers by posting photos and just, ah… asking.

Do you recognize either of these individuals? (Now I feel like a cop.)

Here’s the tree, seen at the South Carolina Botanical Garden:

And here’s a detail of the way those delightful little flowering branches dangle:

And a closeup of the flower form, just upon opening (unfortunately I have not been back to see the blossoms at peak):

And here’s a more artistic shot:

I know that last one was completely unnecessary for any kind of i.d. purposes, but I had to put it in because it’s so pretty. You may recognize this tree from two more artsy shots of it (also useless for identification) that ended up in the St. Patrick’s Day post.

Don’t forget that if you need to enlarge any of the photos to get a better view when making your decisions, you may just click on the photo itself or right-click and select “open in new tab” to see the photos at their original size.

And now here’s the shrub, found blossoming in early March in an area of forest near a lakeside park which may or may not be landscaped. It was one of those places that generally looks to be untouched forest except for a few obvious plantings beside the parking lot — but it might have been done so expertly that the woodland plantings just blend in with the natural surroundings.

Initially, while still far distant, I mistook the shrub for a young forsythia blooming — although I thought it was weird because the forsythias were not yet in bloom in the area. As I approached, I could see that the shape and buds and bloom form were all wrong, and that the little flowers themselves were a much darker golden color than forsythia.

Buds in focus

The sun was sinking in the west and gilding everything brightly — which is wonderful for a romantic walk along the lake with your husband, but not so great for photographing flower details. Especially yellow flowers. When backlit, their portraits tend to be experienced a bit like staring into the sun. I actually did not linger long with the camera; my eyes couldn’t take it.

Besides, F. was waiting for us to continue along the path together.

Flower form.

Blinding; aren’t they?

So do you recognize either the tree or the shrub? Or have any ideas? I can hardly wait to learn their identities, or at the very least be set on the path to discovery by a few crucial clues and hints.

Either way, your comments will be most appreciated, as always.

PDF

spring green

Life Lessons, Seasons 16 Responses »

Feb 232010

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

– Robert Frost

I almost missed my first glimpse of the season’s transitory flash of gold, arising at my feet on the path’s edge near a garden bench at the South Carolina Botanical Gardens.

Many of the first signs of spring seem to be showing up outside my normal line of sight; looking up, the silhouettes of buds show stark against the sky, and looking down, the blades of crocus and new baby moss are quietly and confidently announcing spring’s arrival.

The view outside my window now is drab sepia, rust, and brown, with a blue-grey backdrop. It’s hard to imagine that soon that spring green with golden highlights will dominate the landscape… especially when the weather man is promising us an “arctic blast” with lows of 28 degrees F on Thursday. This year’s winter has developed an irritatingly clingy personality.

I am determined to spend a little bit more of this summer sitting and enjoying the garden, which means I am currently on the lookout for more comfortable garden seating. In my porch-level container garden, the plan this year is for flowers and herbs instead of tomatoes, so that I can sit and watch the butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds visit from a more close-up and relaxed vantage point. I’ll also be able to look down on the main kitchen garden plantings.

The big question is, how will I ever be able to sit still when I see weeds and unharvested fruits and a million other gardening tasks left undone?

There is always something more one could do in the garden at peak season.

What am I saying? Already there is more than I have time to do in the garden. Although in this season, it is due to the heavy rains making the garden a muddy, unworkable mess, or to cold spells that make the work unpleasant and difficult, sometimes downright impossible.

I guess I’ll just have to choose to take time to relax out there knowing that there will always be more work, but there won’t always be bright blooms and delicious scents and colorful visitors around to enjoy. That’s a lesson I need to learn over and over again in so many areas of my life, it seems.

Impermanence. “So dawn goes down to day,” as Robert Frost sagely reminds us. So often I fall into a kind of walking trance, busy with all of the other stuff, numbing the awareness of truth with habit and rote behaviors, and I forget.

Let’s make today the one day we don’t forget impermanence, don’t forget to revel in the beauty and joys we have access to now.

Namasté, y’all.

(p.s. Did you realize that Victory Garden Redux is in the process of changing addresses and titles and generally undergoing a whole new makeover? Come visit its new incarnation, The Enchanted Earth, at theenchantedearth.com.)

PDF

Older Entries Newer Entries

umbrella

name that plant

spring green

Quote of the Week

Recent Posts

From the Archives

Who am I?

Where does my garden grow?

My Gallery of Photographs: Postcards and Prints Available

Blogroll

Categories

Archives

Need to find something specific?

Tags