Ann Mackay: Inspired by Nature

Things are Starting to Buzz…

March 9, 2025March 9, 2025 Ann Mackay15 Comments

NB: A note for WordPress Reader users – you need to click on the title of the post again to come out of the reader and go to the post itself. This allows you to see the whole of the top photograph. (Otherwise you may see just a tiny section!)

The sudden warmth in the sunshine over the last few days has brought more life to the garden. The birds have been singing and busily getting ready for spring for a little while. Now they’ve been joined by the first of the butterflies (peacock and brimstone so far) and both bumblebees and honey bees.

I hope the insects won’t be caught out by cooler temperatures next week and some sub-zero nights yet to come. Last year was a bad one for bees and butterflies here, so they really need better conditions this year to boost their numbers. While there’s not much that I can do to protect them from a change in the weather, I can at least try to provide early-flowering plants so that they have something to feed on.

Currently there aren’t very many plants that are in flower here. The viburnum bushes still have their pink flowers and there several hellebores and some snowdrops and crocuses. But there could be more. Yellow winter aconite for instance, or blue Siberian squill. Chionodoxa (‘glory of the snow’) is another that offers blue flowers. Both it and Cyclamen coum come in a range of other colours, including pinks and white. These would all flower very early and provide food for insects at a time when it can be hard for them to find enough.

There have been a lot of changes in the garden over the last couple of years and I’ve lost a lot of small bulbs (mainly crocuses) by accidentally digging them up while moving plants or changing the layout of borders. I’m hoping that I’ll now have areas settled enough for bulbs to be reasonably safe. One of these areas is where I’ve planted a number of fruit trees. Early spring bulbs should grow well there and enjoy the sun before the leaf canopy appears. I want it to work because our little insect friends need a bit of help. 🐝

purple crocuses with a honey bee — A honey bee enjoys crocuses that have opened in the sun.

A Liminal Time

March 2, 2025March 1, 2025 Ann Mackay11 Comments

Frosted seedhead of wild carrot (Daucus carota)

For the last week or two it has felt as if winter is ending, but spring is not quite here. This is a time of transition, and of hope inspired by the resurgence of nature. In fact, March 1st is the start of meteorological spring in the northern hemisphere, so technically, spring is here. (Unless you go by the astronomical definition, which says that spring starts at the Vernal Equinox, around March 20th.)

As far as our garden here is concerned, spring is just starting to show the first signs, but the cold of winter isn’t far behind us. There are still frosts on some mornings; enough to coat the grass but nothing as spectacular as the seed heads here. (These wild carrot seed heads were photographed back in January, when we had several days of heavy frost.) It may be tempting a chilly fate to say that winter is definitely over, but it feels like it is.

Frosted honesty (Lunaria annua) seed head lying on frosted grass — An honesty (Lunaria annua) seed head was caught in one of the last frosts of the year.

So winter appears to be gone…but spring isn’t entirely here. We’re at a threshold, where the season is neither one thing, nor yet the other. I think of it as ‘pre-spring’. It’s a short time when the approach of spring is eagerly looked for and plans made to welcome both new growth and new life.

Being poised on the brink of spring is an exciting time for me, and other gardeners too I’m sure. Everything starts to get busy now; the gardening year takes on a new urgency as we try to keep up with the rush of returning life that spring brings with it. And now it is time for this blog to put the frosty photographs away…I hope!🌱

Young and Old: Hellebores

February 23, 2025February 21, 2025 Ann Mackay17 Comments

A question in response to last week’s post about hellebores has prompted this one. Linda (who blogs at https://shoreacres.wordpress.com/ ) made this comment: ‘What really surprised me was finally figuring out that the green was a sign of aging rather than a sign of ‘youth.’ I assumed the petals were green at first, and then turned rose. But from what you’ve said, the fresh petals are cream colored — is that right?’

In my reply to Linda I said that the flowers turn green as a part of the aging process. Sometimes, however, there is a slight blush of green on the younger flowers too. (That green shows that there is chlorophyll present, which contributes to the plant’s overall photosynthesis.)

The ‘petals’ of a hellebore are actually sepals. That’s the part of a flower that is normally green and leaf-like, and sits behind the petals. The hellebore sepals turn green after the flower has been pollinated. Some hellebores have sepals that age and darken to a peachy-pink shade, as you can see in my top photo. Whatever their colour, the flowers can last for weeks, with the sepals being more robust than normal petals.

You might be wondering why the hellebore has no true petals. In fact, they’re still there, but over time have evolved into the tubular structures arranged in a ring in the centre of the flower. These are the nectaries, which produce nectar to attract any of the wild bees and other insects that may be active during winter or early spring. In the photo above, you can see the ring of nectaries is still on the old flower, but the stamens have dropped off after pollination.

In the bottom photo, you can see that the nectaries have now also fallen off this old flower. That leaves just the carpels that contain the developing seeds in the centre. How different the aging flower looks compared to the younger ones below it! Those still have both their stamens and their nectaries. (In this case I think the nectaries very pretty, like little ruffles with delicate pink stripes inside.) This particular plant does have a greenish tint to the cream flowers, which later become a vivid green.

Oh, and just to confuse things a little, there are green-flowered hellebores. Helleborus viridis and Helleborus foetidus are both native to the UK and have green sepals throughout their flowering period. Then there’s the Corsican hellebore (Helleborus argutifolius), also known as the holly-leaved hellebore because it has spiny leaves. This one has attractive lime-green flowers and I’m tempted to try growing it, both for the novelty of green flowers and for the handsome foliage.

Time to Awaken

February 16, 2025February 14, 2025 Ann Mackay18 Comments

It’s been wet and miserable outside for a few days, so there’s not much temptation to go outside. However, now there’s a little treat for every time I venture out into the garden. The slight rise in temperatures has encouraged the hellebores to begin to bloom, giving some bright colour under the grey sky.

The photos here are both of the same hellebore – ‘Rosali’ – although the flowers look rather different. (I’ve used photographs from previous years because the flowers of this one are still just in the process of opening.) Looking at the flower colours, you might think they’re different plants, but no, they’re the same one. I must admit, I did wonder if they could really be the same, but last year’s post of Rosali’s flowers convinced me.

I think the difference in appearance is due to a combination of things; variations in the plant from year to year, flower age, and the effect of lighting. The flower in the bottom photo is aging, and you can see the green creeping into what had been the cream colour of the petals. On the other hand, the top photo is of a fairly newly-opened flower, which will probably become more cream as it develops. In the photo, the crimson which usually just edges the petals shows through the whole flower. Probably this is because of the way the strong sunlight is lighting the flower from behind, carrying the deep colour of its reverse right through it.

Earlier I went out to check on this hellebore and was delighted to see a generous mass of dark-coloured buds, with just the first few starting to unfurl. Soon it should have lots more flowers open – enough to make a winter day feel brighter and spring just a little bit closer!

Pink and cream flower of Hellebore Rosali — Hellebore ‘Rosali’ in flower in late winter.

Thawing…for now!

February 9, 2025February 7, 2025 Ann Mackay15 Comments

We still have some below-zero nights forecast, but it feels as if the worst of the cold is over. Of course, that feeling may turn out to be entirely wrong, because there’s still plenty of time left for more wintry weather. Despite that, the sight of the early daffodil leaves poking up through the soil and the first hellebore flowers makes it feel like spring isn’t so far away.

Thawing frost created several opportunities in the past few weeks for me to get busy with my camera. The tiny meltwater droplets looked especially clear and they glittered where the sun struck them. Other drops, in dark corners where the defrost was slower, were still half-frozen.

clear drops of thawing frost — Sunshine brings out the sparkle on the drops of melted frost on Euphorbia mellifera leaves and the seed heads of a Miscanthus grass.

Thinking about that clarity in the drops of melting frost made me wonder if they were purer than ordinary raindrops. After all, raindrops pass through the atmosphere, collecting any pollutants along the way, whereas frost is formed from condensed water vapour. So, like a distilled liquid, they should be free of impurities…well, that’s my theory, anyway! In any case, I enjoy seeing the plants here all decked out in these sparkling little beads.

I am very much looking forward to spring; now I’m longing to see new growth and feel the sun warm the air. At the same time, I realise that I should take care to notice winter’s small details and the way that the natural world changes through this period of cold weather. Soon enough, the changes will be those of approaching spring…🌱

Frost thawing on rose leaves. — Thawed frost forming drops around the edges of rose leaves.

Pennies from Heaven

February 2, 2025February 1, 2025 Ann Mackay21 Comments

Apparently honesty (Lunaria annua) has around 25 common names. (According to the RHS, you can see their list here.) That’s a lot of names, probably because it’s a plant that has been in our gardens for a very long time. It is known to have been in cultivation in the UK since the sixteenth century and is mentioned in Gerard’s Herbal at that time.

Among these names are several that relate to money, including ‘St Peter’s pence’ and, in an interesting contrast, ‘Judas’s penny’. The names ‘money flower, ‘penny flower’ and ‘silver dollar’ have their origins in the way the seed pods look like coins. The name ‘money-in-both-pockets’ was probably given to the plant for the same reason, but to me, the pods also look like tiny pockets with the coins – seeds – inside. That the seeds are visible through the outer layers of the pods has given rise to the name most of us know it by, the familiar ‘honesty’.

The money-inspired names gave me a fair excuse for the title of this post. (Finding new titles can be hard at times!) But there are many names with other inspirations. ‘Grandpa’s specs’, for instance, which makes me smile, while ‘matrimony’ makes me wonder. (A hopeful name, arising from the plant’s associations with both honesty and prosperity, perhaps?) ‘White satin’, ‘silver leaf’ and ‘satin pod’ are all very descriptive of the central membrane that is left when the outer layers of the seed pods fall away.

But the names that appeal to me most are those that refer to the moon-like appearance of the pods. There’s the Latin name, of course – ‘luna’ means ‘moon’. Then there’s ‘moonwort’ and ‘moon seed’, both of which make me imagine honesty’s tiny papery moons gleaming in the reflected moonlight of an autumn evening.

The seeds have been gathered from the seed pods photographed here, and sprinkled where I’d like the plants to come up in future. Now only the silvery central discs are left and are dripping with slowly thawing frost. To me, they look even more like tiny glowing moons. I see them as little wintry moon-pennies.

In the spirit of honesty, I must admit that I’ve never actually heard anyone use the names mentioned here. Lunaria has always been ‘honesty’ to me. It’s a little sad for old names to die out and be forgotten. They’re part of our culture and the history of our relationship with plants..

Frost melting on honesty (Lunaria annua) seed heads

Small Changes

January 26, 2025January 24, 2025 Ann Mackay15 Comments

A lot of changes in the garden take place slowly, sometimes without being noticed until they’re complete. But frost, and the way it changes to semi-frozen beads before melting into glistening droplets has been a very visible feature here recently.

The top photograph shows the process of the thaw caught mid-way. There’s still an icy ridge of frost crystals running along the seed head, but below it the sun has melted the rest. It was the first time that I’ve photographed these Miscanthus seed heads – the frost added something extra to give interest to the image. (And they do tend to blow around in any breeze, so very still weather is needed for a decent photo.)

You can see the seed head at its most frost-covered in the image above. It didn’t stay that way for long because the Miscanthus is growing in the area that gets the first sun of the morning. Any frost on this grass melts away very quickly. It’s only because we had several days of very low temperatures that there was this build-up of frost crystals.

Those frost crystals soon thawed in the sun and became the icy little drops that are seen in the photo below. But this wasn’t the only change taking place as I photographed the Miscanthus. I was surprised to see how quickly the hairs on the individual grass seeds fluffed out in the sun. (You can see how dry and airy-looking they’ve become in a very short space of time.)

I suppose the seeds must be programmed to wait until there’s some warmth before opening out their hairs and getting ready to fly away in the wind. Later on, when it was cooler, I noticed that they had closed up again. Since that morning, I’ve seen the fluffiness appear in the sunshine and disappear as the hairs close when it’s cold. Perhaps this is a way of protecting the seed-hairs in bad weather, so that they don’t get bedraggled, and allowing them to stay dry enough to let the seeds float away when the time is right. It’s an intriguing little change that had gone unnoticed here before.

Here the Miscanthus seed heads have suddenly opened up and become fluffy.

Asleep in the Shade

January 19, 2025January 17, 2025 Ann Mackay21 Comments

During the run of frosty mornings this week, I spent a lot of time photographing plants in the garden. While busy in amongst the icy foliage, I looked down by my feet and noticed that even the hellebores appeared to be frozen. I haven’t seen them frosted before because the areas they’re in are usually too well-protected by nearby shrubs. To my fanciful imagination, they look as if they’re all tucked up, sleeping soundly and waiting for warmer weather.

These hellebores manage to be in flower very early in the year and their presence reminds me that winter won’t be here forever…spring will come! As it happens, the flowers appear to have emerged slightly earlier than they have in previous years. (Up until now I’ve seen them in flower here at the start of February. Perhaps the earlier flowering is because the plants are now becoming more established.) It was still less than halfway through January when I photographed them, so there is likely to be more cold weather for them to face.

Freezing temperatures don’t seem to bother these tough little plants, despite their glamorous appearance. I’m grateful for their resilience. It would be wonderful if all the rest of the plants in the garden could be relied upon to come through winter so well. (But I can only blame myself for the less hardy plants chosen for here. And what would life be without the excitement of a little bit of risk…?)

Winter Leaves

January 12, 2025January 11, 2025 Ann Mackay15 Comments

The leaves here are mostly long gone, but the few that remain can give an interesting texture to the frosted garden. The gently curving leaves in the photograph above are those of Mahonia eurybracteata ‘Soft Caress’. This small shrub is in a very sheltered position, so this is the first year that I’ve seen frost on it.

This Mahonia is very different from the larger one (probably a Mahonia japonica) at the back of our garden. ‘Soft Caress’ is smaller (3 to 4ft high) and not as hardy. It’s a cultivar that doesn’t like to be in a hot, dry position, so I’ve planted it where it is shaded by other larger shrubs.

Unlike other varieties of Mahonia, the leaves of this one aren’t prickly (hence the name), so it’s a much ‘friendlier’ plant to have around. I like the effect of its foliage so much that I’d like to grow it elsewhere in the garden too, but that will be if I can find a suitable spot for another one. (Most of our garden is likely to be a bit too hot and dry in summer.)

The second set of leaves are those of a fennel. We have lots of bronze fennel in the garden (it spreads very easily from seed), but I notice that this one is green. I think a bee must have brought in some pollen from a green fennel and that this is a cross between it and one of our bronze plants. We’ll probably end up with more green ones, but I’ve been getting rid of a lot of the self-sown seedlings. If I didn’t, they’d soon take over the garden! But I would never get rid of them all. They look far too good when frosted for me to do that, and I love to photograph both the leaves and the seed heads. (As you may have noticed…you can see a couple of my favourites on this post.) ❄

frosted fennel leaves — Fennel leaves become a delicate tracery when the frost gets to them.

A Cold Start

January 5, 2025January 3, 2025 Ann Mackay14 Comments

Frosted clematis flowers (Clematis cirrhosa 'Landsdowne Gem')

January usually means a change to colder weather here. December can be quite mild and often doesn’t feel particularly wintry to me, but the start of the new year tends to bring a drop in temperatures.

True to form, we have frosty weather here now, so it’s a good time to get busy with the camera. The images here, though, are not from this winter but were taken a couple of years ago. We don’t often get such a heavy frost, so on that glacial morning I photographed everything I could find. (I’m still processing the photos now!) It could be a long time before frost encrusts everything as heavily again. The freezing weather doesn’t last long enough – this was the result of several icy-cold nights.

Right now, the frost is coming and going and I seize the chance to take a few photographs on those cold mornings. It does look as if we might have a run of several sub-zero nights in the coming week, so perhaps the frost will have a chance to build up…I’ll have my camera ready just in case.

(The plants here are Clematis ‘Lansdowne Gem’, which flowers in winter, and the seed heads of Potentilla recta var. sulphurea (sulphur cinquefoil). If you’d like to see what the clematis looked like before the frost got to it, there’s a post about it here.)