The swarming ruby-throated hummingbirds are declining at the feeders. Most mornings there’s still a small cluster hovering around or guarding the nectar. At just the right angle the morning sun bounces off their ruby throats like … well, rubies.
Nearby the bird feeders are bookended by two cherry trees whose leaves are turning a flame red and gentle gold. And to think the red was there all along and only the absence of chlorophyll causes the green to recede, revealing the bright red color.
Then there are the spider lilies. Year after year “where they grow nobody knows.”
This fall a clump of the red lovelies dot the surrounding woods. It caused us to wonder, “What is that red in the forest?” Discarded coke cans? Potato chip bags?
More spider lilies sprung up in the raised flowerbeds, the perennial garden, and a few in the flowerbed by the garage. A single spider lily rises up in the middle of what I call the serenity garden. It stands like a conscientious objector to quiet and solitude. I discovered more spider lilies that have not yet sprouted beside the native cactus I’ve been trying to whack out of the flowerbed.
The prickly pear cactus has a beautiful yellow flower with petals like a rose and a center ringed in red. Besides being beautiful, it is native, so transplanting it seemed like a good idea, but planting the cactus in a flowerbed was a big mistake.
The butterfly book said the dotted skipper will visit the prickly pear cactus for nectar and that deer and rabbits will eat the pads, though I don’t know how. Although I’ve had missing hydrangeas I’ve never had missing cactus pads. Supposedly wild turkeys, some songbirds, and other rodents will eat the fruit and seeds. The brownish-red berry is the fruit, but who wants to attract more rodents?
I have a few native cacti in pots, but never again. Even Sam has caught a few spines when rounding the corner a bit too fast. It is near about impossible to move cactus without finding spines embedded somewhere in your body. I’ve tried heavy leather gloves, rubber gloves and handling the plant only by the roots, which does not protect your skin from the teeny tiny hair-like stickers barely seen with the naked eye.
So for the job of removing the cactus now planted in the flowerbed, I whacked the proliferating pads with a hoe while avoiding the spider lilies, then dragged them out. Possibly there were some roots left, but I’ll deal with that next year. The plant book said, “Only a determined gardener, a bulldozer or repeated fire will defeat this plant.” We shall see.
Left were the soon-to-bloom spider lilies, the blue Prairie petunias, the salvia and some pinkish four o’clocks. All were blooming, and I’m hoping they will all spread like wildfire.
As for the fuchsia-red crepe myrtles, they are just past peak but still appreciated.
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