lilacs

The Lilac

We have an aging lilac, probably twenty years old, in the path of some house repair. My hard edged assessment is removal. After all, it's running along the foundation, suckering as it goes. At some point it is a weed that is very hard, nearly impossible really, to yank. For what? Two or three weeks of lightly scented flowers? 

I am not a fan of shrubs up against a wooden house, if for nothing other than the inconvenience to repair and the humid environment they create near all that wood. So what is slowing me down? Shouldn't have this old, rangy lilac been cut down months ago? 

What would you do?


More information: the tree has a pretty sizable knot of 4" stems at its base. On the left is the septic electrical and the right the gas line. The septic electric wire definitely crosses the lilac without proper protection as I found when digging for the landing piers just a few feet away. Digging will be treacherous. Hmmm. I may transplant one of the many suckers and take it out without removing the roots. Too bad this has to play itself out with nearly all of the foundation plantings. 


The lilac in the back has been blooming for a few weeks now, for about as long as we've been busy getting the estate sale ready. Now that is done, the weather was perfect and we sold quite a few of Rex's old things. The dealers and collectors, they came early or last, buying up Americana for upselling or decorating their homes with wood, fabric and cast iron. Our place, hidden from the road as it is, wasn't great for pulling in customers, although those brave enough to turn in were treated to woods normally seen from without and at a distance.



A Subtlety


We returned at midnight from a week-long trip to southern New Mexico and Arizona. The following morning, the sun reflected not grey or brown of twigs and branches, but emergent bright green leaves of the lilac. Later, strong southwesterly winds carried thunderstorms and heavy rain and a chorus of frogs heralding the arrival of spring.



The following day, in the great wetland, shrub willows bloom. Although the oaks reserve their enthusiasm, there are buds or blooms on red maples, willows, and basswood.



 Colorful catkins decorate the woodland floor.



The earliest and predominant herb is garlic mustard, Alliaria petiolata. Invasive precisely for this reason, getting it's start before the snow has departed, gaining ground in the leafless sunshine of early spring. The woods is an impeccable example of humanity and forest, neither untouched or wholly impaired, unintentionally altered to the benefit of some species over others. Should we remain here, its condition will be the project of my days. 



It will be helpful to identify some of the earliest plants, some of which may be detrimental to the spring ephemerals and some that may be the ephemerals. Minnesota shares several native plants with New York, so I am not completely out of my league, however at the earliest stages of growth, identification becomes quite a bit more difficult. This plant, above, is growing in the sunshine, in the garlic patch, in the woods, everywhere! It has blue-green, mildly glaucous leaves and reddened glaucous stem. My first guess is in the direction of buttercup, Ranunculaceae. Does anyone recognize it? Please, comment if you do.



Another early riser, looking more like columbine or possibly a meadow rue, Ranunculaceae?



This looks familiar, but I haven't found a good web source for early growth characteristics, Minnesota woodland plants, etc. etc.  Only so much time in a day.



Not garlic mustard, but what?



Ahh, something a different, lanceolate grey-green leaves. Asteraceae?



This grass, throughout the woods but primarily on paths, has been up since early March. Clump forming and flowering now, I'm guessing a sedge, maybe Carex pensylvanica.

____________________

Understanding what lies underfoot, what calls over the wetland, what tree is more likely to fall is quite a bit of my task now. Despite having visited here for a dozen years, although mostly in winter, I have yet to witness much of what happens. For this reason I temper my big ideas and ambitious projects, settling instead to witness the changes before me. Time is short, yes, but I keep asking myself if the ideas I do have would be any better than what is already there. So I watch, taking in as much as I can, and see my own ideas transformed in the process.



Farmers' Market Prospects



Entirely strange way to enter Prospect Park, and having done so felt its soft transgress.



Above, I spied a white redbud. I wasn't aware of this expression.



Departing the carriage road for the market, so many bins of vegetable scraps. I wish I was making my own compost and I do miss the city's free stuff (to which this does not contribute).



There were nettles (and hops), and many things free should you take the time to hunt and pick them.



Like ramps, which I grabbed, for spring's pasta with all things green. 



And quite a deal on lilac bunches at ten dollars for nearly as many branches; so one for us and one for grandma's Mothers' Day visit.



BBG Tuesday



We walked from our place, across Prospect Park, to BBG to sniff the lilacs. We were not alone -Tuesdays the sniffing is free.






I sniffed a female carpenter bee (I think), unknowingly. Fellow sniffers, bee careful. We did notice a lack of honeybees.


I had recently received emails and envelopes touting the newly renovated native plant garden. So we headed in and I began to wonder which component had been renovated. Did they mean the trees that were taken out by recent storms were cut and carted (not completely)? Hmm. Maybe I just don't get here enough to know and see the difference. Above: Heart-leafed Groundsel.


Or did they mean the not yet finished Pine Barrens garden? I love the idea, or I think I do. I wish they did this at the Queens Botanical Garden. BBG is stealing their fire, figuratively and maybe literally because real pine barrens need fire to self sustain. Well, either way, I always love the native plant garden (which has plants from several eco-types and regions) because I always discover and rediscover there.


High bush blueberry in bloom.


Someone knows what this plant is (red stem, geranium type flower). The label said, falsely, Wild Columbine.


Ladyslipper (iphone cameras hate yellow).


The long, cool spring and lack of rain has promoted a late, leafless canopy. Some plants, like this Virginia Bluebell were in sun, under the trees. Other plants, like the May Apples, were wilting under the high sun where they would normally be in shade. This was made especially difficult by the sudden loss of full grown trees last fall.


2nd Chance

There are many varieties of lilacs in bloom here at Weir Farm. More than I could possibly want to photograph. Its been breezy and their scent...