Last night we were blessed by a badly needed gentle rain during the early morning hours.
The flowers were just beautiful, all lush and gorgeous dressed in their diamonds. I went out to enjoy a little photography, and when I came back in the house my camera said I had captured 44 images. I believe I also had at least that many mosquito bites….
So, this is what I gave my blood for this morning.
I swear it almost looks like the audience of day lilies is applauding the solo performance of Cleome with her back up singers the Scarlet Crocosmia. Maybe I’m anthropomorphizing.
These gals look good enough to eat.
Actually, day lilies ARE edible. I hear they are quite tasty done tempura style, or lightly sauteed in butter. I don’t know, I can’t bring myself to pick them and bring them inside, they are just so beautiful out in the garden.
Here’s another edible one, this is Thymus microphyllus, a creeping thyme that is established out in the scree slope garden.
That whole wave of thyme that is breaking on the rocks is only a couple of inches long. (Yes, I have been playing with the super macro function on my camera.) Here’s a closer look at those tiny blossoms. They are about 1 mm across.
Here’s another edible one: Gladiolus. I have never tried this one, either. It is rumored to taste like lettuce.
Looks like a delicious dish of sherbet, doesn’t it?
Skullcap (Scutellaria integrifolia) lives in my prairie garden. It is a member of the mint family, which probably accounts for how successful it is. It is useful as a medicinal herb, used as a sedative, nerve tonic and antispasmodic. It was used to treat rabies, epilepsy, insomnia, neuralgia, etc. According to my Peterson Field Guide, “Scutellarin, a flavonoid compound in the plant has confirmed sedative and antispasmodic qualities.”
I’m not sure how tasty this flower is, but it would certainly add a beautiful blue note to any salad you put it in. The bumblebee seems to be enjoying it.
Inside, you can find the golden zucchini, sliced and lightly salted, waiting for the saute pan. Once it has sat this way for a bit, you rinse the salt off and then braise it in butter with minced garlic. Garnish with chopped tarragon and you have a dish fit for the gods on Mt. Olympus, at least in my humble opinion. I really could eat this every day.
For some reason this post has made me hungry. I believe I shall go do a bit of foraging.
May all your meals be tasty and beautiful today.
your photos, as always, are wonderful
Thank you. I have inspirational subjects who pose for hours without complaint.
I will say, all the flowers certainly look good enough to eat. But I’ll be content just ot feast my eyes on those colors. Why is it, though, that everyone else’s zuccini is untamable, and mine can’t be persuaded to stay alive pst a week? (Can it be late planting? No, no…must be the weather…)
Squash has its enemies. When it first comes up, it is susceptible to cut worms, and of course rabbits think the little seedlings are God’s gift to them. Later on, if you have bean beetles, they can infect the squash with a bacterial wilt that is absolutely devastating: one day you have gloriously burgeoning squash, the next day it has wilted and died, the following day it turns into a disgusting soupy mess. You must burn these infected vines, not put them in your compost.
Later in the season, a squash vine can go into a sudden decline caused by the squash vine borer.
And weather, of course, does have its effects as well.
Thank you kindly for the advie.
(though I think that not watering them immediately after I planted on a hot day may have caused issues…)
Well, seedlings really DO like to be watered when young….
The tiny thyme flowers are exquisite. Who knew?
They are quite amazing when looked at close up. From a distance, they are just a wash of pink on top of the creeping plant. This reminds me of a time back in my checkered past when my husband and I went up on Mount Vision in Point Reyes and consumed mushrooms. The resulting afternoon was one of joy and amazement as we focused on the tiny tiny plants that were coming up everywhere, some of them only a quarter of an inch long, all furnished with exquisite blooms. Or were they all figments of our drugged imaginations?