"Pay attention to the world." -- Susan Sontag
 

Winter Shapes: Jasmine Blooms and Rose Leaves

From “Lalla Rookh” by Thomas Moore in The RHS Book of Flower Poetry and Prose by the Royal Horticultural Society:

Plants that wake when others sleep —
Timid jasmine buds that keep
Their fragrance to themselves all day,
But when the sunlight dies away
Let the delicious secret out
To every breeze that roams about.

From “My Neighbor’s Roses” by Abraham L. Gruber in The RHS Book of Garden Verse by the Royal Horticultural Society:

The roses red upon my neighborโ€™s vine
Are owned by him, but they are also mine.
His was the cost, and his the labor, too,
But mine as well as his the joy, their loveliness to view.

They bloom for me and are for me as fair
As for the man who gives them all his care.
Thus I am rich, because a good man grew
A rose-clad vine for all his neighborsโ€™ view.

I know from this that others plant for me,
And what they own, my joy may also be.
So why be selfish, when so much thatโ€™s fine
Is grown for you, upon your neighborโ€™s vine.


Hello!

It’s always fun to uncover splashes of color among the winterized branches and bushes. Below are a few photos of tiny jasmine blooms, the first I’ve seen so far as we try to wrap up winter. The blooms — even the fully opened ones — are barely half an inch long, but still glow with some very bright yellows.

Below the jasmine photos are some early rosebush and rose vine leaves. They have quite a few large and thorny thorns, mostly, I believe, to protect them from photographers who like to stick their faces and lenses into the bushes — but also to ward off plant-eating predators.

Thanks for taking a look!








Winter Shapes: Salvia, Sagebrush, and Spirea

From Garden Flora: The Natural and Cultural History of the Plants In Your Garden by Noel Kingsbury:

SALVIA (Lamiaceae): With a name derived from the Latin, salvare (โ€œto healโ€), it is clear that some of the sages have a significant medical history. All have a powerful aroma, very clearly that of Lamiaceae to any reasonably experienced gardener or botanist, but also very different from each other. Indeed, it would be fair to say that there is probably as much difference in aromatics from sage to sage as among the scents of any other genus. The range of colour is also unrivalled….”

From The Standard Cyclopedia of Horticulture (Vol. 1) by Liberty Hyde Bailey:

ARTEMISIA: A large genus of aromatic and bitter herbs and small shrubs, mostly in the northern hemisphere, and most abundant in arid regions. Leaves alternate, often dissected: heads small and mostly inconspicuous, numerous and generally nodding, with yellow or whitish florets… In the West, many of the species, particularly A. tridentata, are known as sage brush.”

From Garden Flora: The Natural and Cultural History of the Plants In Your Garden by Noel Kingsbury:

SPIRAEA (Rosaceae): Once upon time this was a large genus, but the splitters have had their way, so Spiraea is down to around 80 woody plants found across cool temperate North America and Eurasia…. Spireas are deciduous shrubs of woodland edge and open damp habitats. All are long-lived clonal competitive shrubs, and some are able to sucker strongly to form thickets…. [The] plants contain salicylates and so have analgesic qualities. The genus is named after the Greek word for a plant used in making garlands.”


Hello!

Spring must be on its way: bits of color are starting to appear!

The salvia (in the first six photos) has begun making new leaves, shedding purplish winter ones for freshened up green. Spirea (in the last six photos) has popped out some of its tiny white blooms, while showing off their bright yellow collars. Sagebrush (in the middle) doesn’t really have much color, but I liked the fluffy silver look mixed with some shadowy blues — the closest we ever got to ice-on-plants this year.

Thanks for taking a look!









Winter Shapes: Big Trees and Little Grasses

From The Architecture of Trees by Cesare Leonardi and Franca Stagi:

“We often think of trees as things, as objects. We perhaps see them as providers of shade, but mostly we think of them as things we can use, shape, and force into restricted spaces….

“Trees are victims of their own immobility — they are anchored in place. We forget that they live with us on this planet and that the planet, indeed, was theirs for tens of thousands of years before it was ours. They grab on to the planet… unshakeable and strong and able to regenerate, to begin again from the beginning, leaf after leaf….

“We forget that they breathe every day, leaf by leaf. We forget about their unique and extraordinary ability to draw food and energy from light. We overlook their constant and vital contribution to the life of the planet as they produce oxygen and supply it to other creatures. The fact that trees provide oxygen is such an acknowledged and accepted fact that it loses all meaning. It is an obvious notion — something we learned in school as kids — so we forget it….

“Knowing trees means rediscovering this.”

From “The Serenade” in Poems by William Cullen Bryant:

I saw from this fair region,
   The smile of summer pass,
And myriad frost-stars glitter
    Among the russet grass.

While winter seized the streamlets
   That fled along the ground,
And fast in chains of crystal
   The truant murmurers bound.

I saw that to the forest
   The nightingales had flown,
And every sweet-voiced fountain
   Had hushed its silver tone.


Hello!

Here’s something a bit different; or at least partially a bit different. We had very few sunny days in January, but I did slink out into the neighborhood on one of them, and in addition to aiming my camera toward the little things I usually photograph, I took these pictures of some of the giant trees that populate the grounds at Oakland Cemetery. With the trees still sporting their winter leaflessness, the views of them and beyond them were quite fantastic. As is often the case with wide-angle-zoom images, it can be difficult to interpret the scale of what is shown; but for comparison, I will say that the cluster of pointy pine trees is thirty to forty feet high.

The two buildings I zoomed in on (in images nine and ten) are about two miles from the grounds, if a straight-flying crow headed in their direction. The silver cylinder on the left is the Westin Peachtree Plaza Hotel, known for its glass facade and its 360-degree view of the city from a restaurant on one of the top floors. The building to its right is 191 Peachtree Tower — an office tower with matching art-deco structures at its top, with an overall design that somewhat mirrors a building it replaced, the Majestic Hotel.

The grassy photos were experimental — or whatever! — because I was aiming 300mm of zooming at a few blades near a fence, from six feet away. The wisps kept moving in the breeze — as wisps do — but I got a few I was satisfied with, and their backgrounds are somewhat pleasant.

Thanks for taking a look!