It's time to seed in the summer meadows and divide the perennial mums, but I'm feeling as stuck as the bullfrog who tunneled into the greenhouse and now is hunkered down in a pot of crinum seedlings — from where he can see our little pond. Dealing with medical issues changed my life fast, but I’m adapting — though I could use a little help, especially from night owls.
Finding Solace in "Light Duty" Work
We have a funky, very energy-efficient greenhouse that is half-sunken-in-the-earth. Frogs get in. But it’s a cozy place to do the "light duty" work of taking cuttings and potting up. Momma and I excel at snipping and sticking. Being with her so much lets me see her changes, so I love this time. We hope someone will be in the market for a thousand salvia and a hundred of Ruth's Georgetown Tea roses because if light duty is all we can do, we're doing it.
Delving into the Wonders of Gardening at Night
The new book is progressing well, but I could use some help from y'all. Over the next ten days (surgery soon) I'll have lots of writing time. I'm focused on refining one particularly fascinating chapter: Gardening At Night.
I'm captivated by photoperiodism and the intricate ways plants respond to changing light hours. But that's real geek stuff. From a hands-on perspective, I don't garden at night except to wander with a black light, checking out moths and seeing flowers in a whole new "light" (UV, that is - check out my photo below!) I do love Night Blooming Jasmine’s scent, and I wrote an ode to her in Funky Little Flower Farm.
But, I need stimulating ideas from you, late-night horticulturists.
Calling All Night Owls: Share Your Nocturnal Gardening Experiences
So, my request to you night lovers is this. Would you tell me what draws you out? A favorite nocturnal bloom? Frog songs? Moon shadows? Do you wear a headband light? Tinker with solar lamps? Have you had a Cerus party? Do you wait for certain fragrances of the midnight air?
Leave a comment below and regale me with your tales of nocturnal gardening. Your story might just find its way into the pages of my new book, or better yet, I might call you to learn more about the secrets you've uncovered while gardening at night.
I'm not much of a night owl as the years roll by. As a child, I became fascinated with the Night Bloomin Cereus that was perched on grandmother's back porch. It was splayed in every direction with it huge white blossoms. If I remember correctly, it is a cactus from Central and South America.
Moon vines a special night blessing!