The arrowwood viburnum are finally blooming happily, and those little green things curving away are "Ruby Spice" summersweet, which may not bloom this year but will be spectacular when they do.
|Viburnum dentatum "Blue Muffin" in close-up|
Last Saturday brought the addition of three fothergilla in addition to the summersweet. They've quit blooming for this year, but next spring their white bottlebrushes should light up the dark area under the white oaks. (Eventually, they may get big enough that I can finally make myself take out the privet.)
Speaking of bottlebrushes, the bottlebrush buckeye that something snapped off near the ground two years ago has come back and will bloom this summer, joining the two in the upper yard.
It is painfully obvious from all the undergrowth visible in these photographs that I am excessively lax about removing volunteers, even those that we Do Not Want, like Bradford pear, the ubiquitous landscape tree that has forgotten that it was supposed to be a sterile cultivar. Periodically, I cut a swath through the unwanted vegetation to save all the water and soil nutrients for the plants we do want, but the squirrels, birds, and wind keep bringing the volunteers, anyway, and the roots do keep the dirt from washing away in the downpours that seem to be our typical rain these days.
It's also nice to be able to share. So many dogwoods have sprouted that we give them away, and a colleague is waiting for me to pot up some white oak seedlings.
Other inhabitants of the wooded glade include recent transplants. As much as I am not a fan of hosta, those left by the deer have been divided and some moved to the dry shade near the evergreens. The shade-tolerant white asters that seem to sprout everywhere they're not wanted are being forcibly migrated to the glade, along with the goldenrod that seems not to need too much sun. More ferns are headed that way, along with violets and mint. The single jewelweed passed along by a friend two years ago has produced a hundred or so offspring, so some of our glorious wild impatiens has been moved to FernGully. Being too impatient to wait for color from the late jewelweed, I couldn't resist a young flame azalea, currently strutting its stuff near the middle of the slope.
Our little patch of the Great Eastern Woodland is on its way to being a happy, healthy ecosystem.