Don’t tell anyone but I am not a big fan of potted mums. For weeks now they’ve been popping up on doorsteps everywhere and plopped pot-and-all into every other foundation bed, and I can’t help yawning. They’re just so… municipal. Now, you know me – I’m all for whatever gets people buying plants and out in their gardens/yards, but mums? Really? There are so many other things that are more interesting – including …  mums.

Hardy Chrysanthemum – or Dendranthema or whatever the kids are calling them these days – are so much lovelier than the ones that are forced into bloom only to die from neglect or stress a few weeks later. Hardy mums have a looser more graceful form – extra loose if we forget to cut them back in June – and they live for practically ever and tend to be generous spreaders. Sheffield Pink is our grandmotherly favorite, spread along the edge under the dawn redwood hedge in the Display Garden and borrowed with something blue in the Rose Garden. I don’t know and haven’t been able to find the name of the sweet yellow and red one in the Rock Garden. Anyone recognize it?

It should be noted that some of the potted mums for sale are hardy mums in disguise. Neither Gail nor I remember planting the deep-pink mum in the North Garden and have credited a wedding decorator. (We toast the happy couple every fall.) Over the last few sunny days, it has been as covered with different species of bees, flies, wasps, etc as any aster. And that right there is reason enough to plant the hardy mums – they’re a great late meal for pollinators.

Potted mums have become part of people’s -non gardeners and gardeners alike – fall tradition but wouldn’t it be great if growers started forcing Cuphea micropetala instead? Aside from being an outstanding tender perennial worthy of a position in the garden from June on, the late summer-into-fall flowers look just like candy corn. And I know at least one nursery owner who puts luminous Plectranthus ciliata on display in the fall. I’m sold. How about you? Do you buy potted mums or have you made another late-fall flower part of your garden’s tradition?

Being surrounded by beautiful flowers, interesting foliage and delicious fragrance is great and all but I think the best reason to grow a garden might be for the privilege of sharing it with a few of nature’s other creatures. This morning in the pollinator garden I came nose to nose with a hummingbird (who obviously, was much quicker than I…) Our little moment together would have been fairly unlikely had I been standing on of an expanse of lawn instead of in the middle of a garden full of his favorite flowers. Plus where else can you, if you train your eyes to see, easily find praying mantis hanging out?

And honestly, is there anything better than a bucketful of frogs? Blithewold’s Camp Sequoia kiddos have been monitoring the frogs’ progress all summer from tadpole to poliwog (froglet?) to today’s wee teensie frogs. They’ve been finding all sorts of other creatures in their nets too like dragonfly larvae and water striders. Any garden that mimics nature the way the water garden does will be full to bursting with activity. Fascinating to watch – and catch.

Of course nature will occasionally send a message that a close encounter can be too close… For all we cultivate and maintain, gardens are still wild places. – Or so the bumblebee told me on Monday. But for anyone who isn’t fatally allergic, a little pain and swelling is a small price to pay for getting such a good view of their way of life.

It seems like the activity in the gardens is ramping up to a frenzy (or maybe the critters all think a hurricane is coming) – have you had close encounters of the natural kind lately too?

I’ll use the excuse of Garden Bloggers Bloom Day (generously hosted as always by Carol at May Dreams Gardens) to show off a few more of the attractive plants in and around our pollinator’s garden. It’s been really fun talking to visitors about all of the activity and noticing who goes in for a closer look and who takes a few apprehensive steps back. The bees and wasps don’t seem to mind either reaction, they’re so intent on taking it all (the nectar and pollen that is) in. Would you go in for a closer look at all the busyness or are you more comfortable with a little distance between you and any insect activity?

Click on pictures for larger view or mouse over for captions.

There are lots of names for July’s full moon, which was full in the wee hours of this very morning, but Full Thunder Moon seems the most appropriate this year. (Full Buck Moon and Full Hay Moon are other choices…) We’ve been lucky enough to have had a couple of good storms within the last week and the gardens are loving the infusion of rain – almost 3″ last Friday and another 1/2″ish Wednesday night. This last storm broke the heat wave and I can’t ever remember more heavenly July days than these last two. It’s not too hot or too humid – it’s juuuuust right. I hope you’re getting to enjoy a Goldilocks-perfect mid-July too!

I’d say it’s easy to plant a garden full of attractive plants except that it isn’t so easy. There’s way too much to choose from and what qualifies as attractive changes, for me at least, by the day. Some days it’s green flowers; other minutes it’s spectacularly enormous leaves; sometimes it’s blue foliage or anything orange. But it’s very easy to find plants that are attractive… in other ways … to other garden visitors, such as insects and birds, bees, wasps and butterflies. And planting those plants turns the garden from a pretty picture into an experience.

Every year we change the Display Garden around a bit. Some years we focus on flower colors (green, blue, anything that amazing apricot shot through with magenta…), sometimes we play more with texture (giant leaves… you catch my drift) and I have never known these gardens to not hum – audibly and visually – with activity. The gardens look alive because we plant such a variety that there are always plenty of plants for the insects and birds. But this year we tried to plant, in the big display garden bed in particular, ONLY what would be attractive to pollinators.The garden is buzzing! And lucky for us and for all the garden’s human visitors, we didn’t have to leave aesthetics out of the design equation.

The hands-down busiest (and hands-off busiest if you have any healthy respect for bees and wasps on a mission) is the sea holly (Eryngium planum). There must be an easy dozen different species on it at any given mid-day moment. And it’s highly attractive to me too, fulfilling the blue foliage (and flower) category so handsomely along with having an excellent architectural prickliness. When the sea holly goes by, the more subtly lovely (green) flowers on the mountain mint (Pycnanathemum muticum) will likely draw the most visitors.

But the butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa), which is a stunning shade of brilliant orange that incidentally looks amazing with sea holly, not only attracts all sorts of bees, wasps and butterflies to its flowers, the plant itself is the only larval food source (along with every other member of the Asclepias/milkweed family) for the beloved Monarch butterfly. It’s always great fun to attract butterflies to the garden, and it’s even better to give them a reason to stay. At least 4 generations will go from egg to caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly over the course of the summer in a garden with an Asclepias restaurant. When Gail and I started researching plants for this garden we were thrilled to note that a lot of the best nectar sources are also popular host plants for all sorts of butterfly and moth caterpillars – like goldenrod (Solidago), Aster, false indigo (Baptisia), Joe Pye weed (Eupatorium) and even Zinnia.

Do you plant anything specifically for bees and butterflies? What are the most attractive plants in your garden?

There’s no doubt now that this is the week for narcissists at Blithewold. Even if daffodils aren’t your thing (perish the thought!) you’d have to admit that so many open all at once is a sight for sore eyes. (And didn’t our eyes get sore this winter?) There’s just something about their cheerfulness – about as subtle as a smiley – even on an otherwise dreary day like today. (Pictures were taken in yesterday’s sun.) William Wordsworth said it best, “A poet could not but be gay, in such jocund company”.

As much as I enjoy staring into the faces of daffodils (conceitedly wishing they loved me back), I’ve also been noticing the hopeful, happy-making changes in the wider landscape. I can’t help but ogle the reverse striptease of the trees as they begin to put on lacy lingerie. So lovely. And yesterday we saw the first bumblebees of the season – they must be last year’s queens buzzing flowers to feed a new brood; and noticed that the frog chorus is suddenly out in full voice.

What’s catching your attention? Are you being narcissistic too?