I came to a shocking realization this past weekend: Even though it still feels like summer, the signs are all around us that fall is about to begin.
Jump back, calm down and move on: Good advice for encounters between gardeners and beneficial reptiles found lurking in out-of-the-way places.
I've noticed a common characteristic among us gardeners. As we go through the year, our favorite plants in the landscape and garden seem to change from week to week.
September was my least favorite month when I worked, because Labor Day was the last day out of school until Thanksgiving.
In competition gardening, it's only partly what you know or your skills that gets the prize. It's also a willingness to jump through hoops.
Several weeks ago, I wrote about looking forward to the time of year when ornamental peppers start strutting their gorgeous fruit colors.
There's little more disheartening than tending a bed or potful of homegrown food this sultry time of year. There are tricks to help pull it off, but they won't ease the angst.
Earlier this year, I wrote about an outstanding landscape plant, the Rose of Sharon.
A garden is much more sensory than mere looks; sometimes more memorable features can be found -- eyes closed -- right outside the door.
While visiting my parents in Tennessee this weekend, my dad asked why one of their Annabelle hydrangeas was blooming while another -- growing just 5 feet away -- was not. He asked if I had some special fertilizer or bloom juice that could be applied.
Can I have a Hail State? How about a Hotty Toddy or Roll Tide? Sports seasons roll around with, it seems, greater frequency than Christmas and Easter.
How have we already turned the corner into August?
Call me hard core, but these old muscles appreciate the differences between my shovel and spade.
A marvel of modern inventions is digital photography, which helps us pay closer attention to and share our gardens easily with others.
The last few weeks have been hot and humid, and many of my gardening friends are ready for fall's cooler temperatures.
These dog days have me in a funk, all but beating the joy out of my little garden.
Because of the oppressive heat and humidity in my coastal landscape and garden, I spent the weekend in the air conditioning, of course.
Is a herb a herb, even if you don't use it as one?
As we continue to plow through this hot and humid summer, keeping our plants -- and ourselves -- hydrated is critical to maintaining the summer garden and landscape.
Pardon my getting maudlin, but how do you get rid of old plants that you've carefully nurtured for decades? Those that aren't ready for the compost pile?