The Midnight Garden

Ahh, this time of year, greenhouses are full of such stuff as dreams are made of.  I’m not sure how I resist as well as I do.  Perhaps I realize that the more I buy during the course of the weekend, the more I must work to get them situated, in the ground or in easily-managed containers.  Part of that realization includes understanding that I may not be capable or interested in hurting myself by the end of the day, so three cheers for me.

But you shouldn’t think I can resist temptation entirely.  At that particular nursery, I only walked away with a quartet of moonflower seedlings.  I’ve not had particular luck with them from seed the last couple of years, so I thought I’d give pre-started ones a chance this year.  I have confidence there’ll be NO lack of morning glories, so I’m not worried about them coming along, but some lovely moonflower blooms would be nice as an evening counterpoint.  Until it gets warmer, though, they have a home on the kitchen windowsill.

And the weekend brought plenty of other plants into my “sphere of influence.”  By the weekend’s conclusion – thanks to our plant-swap party and the kindness of a visiting neighbor who brought divisions from her Connecticut garden – I also had some helianthus, lemon mint, centauri, sweet woodruff, asiatic lilies, a couple of irises and a few not-clearly identified things it will be fun to sort out as the season races along.

PLUS, I was not entirely able to resist a four pack of (UGH, this annual’s name starts with an A and – despite our long relationship – lives in a perennial dark spot of my mind…not allyssum, or agastache, or agapathus, or allium, or amaranth, or agave, or…AH HA!) ageratum, and a large six pack of some hot magenta dianthus.

Here they both are, potted for the deck with a bit of sweet woodruff.  The rest will find their way into the garden soon.

Meanwhile, the lilacs are in full bloom.  I can see that they are and once or twice I’ve had my nose up close enough to enjoy that fragrance.  But our weekend turned windy and chilly, which is whipping away any of the fragrance the plants are exuding.  This evening, I’ll cut some to bring inside and enjoy.

Their season, like our own, is all too brief.