Just got another email alert about a plant being promoted alluringly as the 2020 Something of the Year. There's always something.
In the gym this morning, I noticed there were many, many more people exercising than usual. It struck me that these folks were following through on their New Year's resolutions to improve themselves for 2020 -- at least for a while.
Don't know when or why, but somewhere along the line I stopped being an "even" numbers guy. Now I'm a happily odd guy, at least when it comes to symmetry in the garden.
As we bid farewell to 2019, I've been reflecting on gardens and gardening in general. I wrote several weeks ago about the changing attitudes and current perceptions that home gardeners have about their landscapes and gardens.
The problems started with a bit cooler and much wetter spring season.
Good tidings from the South's winter garden! I plucked a fistful of super fragrant paperwhite daffodils last week, the first of my cherished winter flowers -- a week before winter officially started.
I'm continuing to catch up with my landscape and garden work after an extremely busy fall and early winter season.
My yard is now a better garden, in the medieval sense of the word. A new custom-designed entry gate has created a special feeling of being set apart from the outside. As it should.
Winter is finally here, whether you go by the meteorological date of Dec.1 or the upcoming astrological date of Dec. 21.
My leaf and compost pile is breaking my mind's heart. Heaps of once-had-to-have plants have been left to rot into more useful soil amendments.
I love when the calendar strikes Dec. 1, because it means we are officially in the Christmas season.
I'm already missing autumn's dazzling display of colors, while right in the middle of one of the best in memory.
For cool-season color, you can't beat the old-fashioned plants our grandparents called Johnny jump-ups.
To rake or not to rake is something that comes up every autumn, with proponents of both the pros and cons rarely offering a literally middle-ground solution.
I am thoroughly thankful I made the move to coastal Mississippi a dozen years ago.
Far as I know, there isn't a formal word for what happens when frozen summer plants melt into a greenish glob. But botanically and practically, it's nasty.
Raking fall leaves can seem like a chore and a never-ending one, at that.
This past weekend, I had the privilege and pleasure of being an invited speaker at the Gardening for Life Symposium hosted by Magnolia Plantation and Gardens in Charleston, South Carolina.
Twilight time in the garden doesn't have to be gloomy or dangerous.
Earlier this year, we were enjoying a cool and wet spring, and then one day, wham! We were thrown into a full-blown hot and dry summer that seemed never-ending.