About Me!

My photo
Central, FL, United States
I am a former teacher, aspiring artist, inveterate traveler This blog is about my Florida garden experience and its expression though poetry, philosophy, photography and art. It includes my other creative endeavors. Here can be found posts about travel to other gardens around the world. My garden is a half acre in zone 9a which includes a large water garden. I have mostly a shade garden because of the huge live oak. To keep things easy, I love to grow bromiliads,ferns,gingers and other tropicals. I need to have a low maintenance garden. In the summer we usually have plenty of rain and it transforms into a jungle. I have converted my swamp into the water garden where I grow irises, waterlilies, papyrus, radigan, spikebush and swamp lily. I also grow citrus (lemon,key lime,grapefruit,tangerines,pineapple,and loquats). Me?...Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses. (Ovid)

Jun 28, 2012

easy breezy airplants

la femme paresseuse du jardin

  

In this first shot you can see my amazing success with the Spanish variety of moss...heehee.



I  used driftwood as a base for some small bromiliads 

Lazy women and men love airplants.....especially with blackspot on roses and waterlogged orchids!


 


I  just made this Tailansia tree and I hope it will fill out!

\\



Jun 11, 2012

thanks to rain...June is busting out all over





Hydrangea macrophylla "Taube" lace-cap
If you are into razors ,you'll love these....Billbergia 'Breauteana'

Blood lily




The big picture

These new cultivars are as large as a luncheon plate
These orchids are the first ones I've ever had that had an amazing perfume.Now, to keep her alive!
Her name is  Brassavola
 
Wisteria Woman 
 gif
by Lisa Shields
Violet lavender drug
slipping beneath my skin,
shucking off the stale air
of too long shut in,
too long shut away
whispering to me
to breathe deep and be.


The clothes fall away
till I stand like mother Eve
two bites before the apple.
Lips blush to rose,
and the tongue tastes
of sweet tart pomegranate,
while a wisp of wind
carries hair to frame my face.



All I have been is pollen dusted,
oh the wisteria sweet
kissing deep,
till I feel the promise of fertile,
drooping fat on a vine
petals that promise nothing,
but hint at all.

A month from honeysuckle still to come,
but I can taste the nights,
raise my eyes to the mantle of sky,
suddenly clad in the skin
of every moonlit woman,
and beckoning with my being
for you to dance beneath
the far flung sky
in the arms of a Wisteria Woman